Full Frame
18
Dating and Dancing
“Ronda” by Sandra Schram, ID26689129 licensed from Shutterstock.com
MY DREAM of walking with two beautiful girls snuggled up against me was quickly dispelled. As soon as we were outdoors and I put an arm around Christine, Ronda put an arm around her from the other side.
“At least I’m going to be warm going home,” Chris giggled. And so, we walked the five blocks with Chris sandwiched between us. It wasn’t that Ronda avoided contact with me or me with her. She poked me in the ribs a couple of times and I grabbed her hand once as she shook a finger at me over some stupid joke I’d told. Chris mostly just laughed at us.
Then we got to Ronda’s house and walked her to the door. I’m not exactly sure how it came about, but before I knew it, Chris and Ronda were in a clinch and kissing each other. It looked pretty intense. Then they broke apart and Chris whispered, “Wow!”
Ronda looked at me and then surprisingly gave me a little kiss on the lips. “You can get the rest of that from Christine,” she said. “’Night, you two.”
Christine and I walked the rest of the way to her house just as close together as she’d been with Ronda on the other side. When we got to her door, Chris turned in my arms and hugged me.
“Ronda said she’d teach me how to give you a better kiss,” Chris whispered. “She did.”
“It looked like you were really into kissing each other,” I said.
“She told me that was the best way to learn. Want to learn from me?”
“Christine, you know I’d love to kiss you.” With that, I pulled her to me and kissed her.
Then the surprises started. I really liked kissing Christine, but when her tongue touched my lips, the intensity went up about 100%. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I licked at her lips a little and then her tongue touched mine. And we stayed like that for a long time, our tongues just lightly touching and gliding across each other.
“I really liked that,” I whispered when we pulled back a little.
“Me, too. I think I’d like to do it again.”
We kissed some more.
“My lips are going to get chapped out here in the cold if we do any more of that right now,” she whispered. “We’ll save more for next time.”
“Want to go out next weekend?” I asked.
“Can’t next weekend. Why don’t you ask Roxie out next week? I’ll go with you to see the new movie that’s opening the weekend after. Okay?”
“Um… Okay. But why would I ask Roxie out? I’d rather just wait for you,” I said. After that kiss, I wasn’t really interested in anyone else at all.
“Because we aren’t going steady, right? If you don’t go out with anyone else, no one will ask me out. I mean, not like I want to just date every guy in school, but I just started dating and I’d like to see what it’s like before I tie myself down to just one guy. Is that okay?”
I wasn’t sure. The thought of Christine dating another guy or kissing him made a knot in my stomach. Then I thought of her kiss with Ronda and thought maybe she wasn’t talking about a guy. I sighed.
“I’ll give it a try. I guess there’s nothing much else to do.”
“Okay. Then give me one more of those delicious kisses and walk home thinking about me,” she said.
That kiss was even more intense than the others as we started really exploring each other’s mouths with our tongues. We were both panting when we finally parted and she whispered, “Good night.”
Thinking about her on the way home? My cock was pointing straight out showing me the way. I went home and opened my album of private pictures to the one of Christine topless, gesturing to me to come closer. I scarcely had to touch myself before I exploded.
I hadn’t been prepared for my US History test Friday and Coach Hennessey scowled at me when he handed it back Monday.
“If you can’t pay attention in class, try at least reading the textbook,” he said.
I knew I was falling behind in some of my homework. I was spending way too much time in the studio. Mom would throw a fit if my grades all went in the toilet. I’d be lucky if she let me keep the studio at all. I went back to my calendar and found some of the people who had scheduled senior retakes. I went to a couple of them and rescheduled for a little later. Like next month. It wasn’t urgent to have the photos in until April, so I had time for that. I knew they were worried about what pictures they were going to buy, but I really had to do some studying.
I hated to take up all my studio time with the seniors, but I rescheduled everyone for weekends. I’d had a good session with Joe Smiley on Sunday. I hadn’t done a guy in the studio before and was a little unsure of what he’d want.
He looked like he came straight from church, dressed in a nice dark suit, white shirt, and striped tie. He was pretty thin and had light brown hair. He wore squarish black rimmed glasses. It was a pretty common style in school. I welcomed him and invited him to look over the gallery while I set the blue backdrop and lighting. He had a smile when he returned to the stool.
“You sure get some cute girls up here,” he said. “I want a photo like that.”
I cringed a little. I wasn’t sure what it was he might want.
“Let’s get the yearbook photo out of the way and then we can go from there,” I said. I could see right away from his proofs what the problem was with his photo. There was glare on his glasses and you couldn’t see his eyes at all. I knew I could take care of that. I seated him and adjusted the lights so there was no glare from the glasses.
The prevailing style of yearbook photos was to have the subject looking off somewhere other than at the camera. I changed that up a little and had Joe look straight at me with his shoulders canted a little to the right. He had an easy smile and we took several variations before I asked him what he had in mind for his Attic Allure photo.
“Like a secret identity,” he said. “Someone no one would expect was me.” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but he grabbed his hat—an old fashioned fedora—and pulled off his tie. Then he unbuttoned three buttons of his shirt and turned his jacket collar up. He took off his glasses and put them with his tie. Then took a position in a kind of slouch, looking at the floor. I snapped a photo, but I saw what he was going for.
“Let me change to the black backdrop,” I said. I found a streetlamp decoration among the storage things that looked like it had been for a window display. It was a little short, but I put it on a box to raise it just above his head height. Then I went about finding the right way to set the lights so it looked like he was standing in the light of that one street lamp.
He saw what I was doing and nodded. He pulled off his jacket and shirt and stripped out of his undershirt. Then he put the shirt back on, unbuttoned to about mid-chest, and left it hanging outside his pants. He got up beside the lamp and started to lean against it, then realized it wasn’t that stable. He just took a pose that looked like he was casually leaning against it. Things were beginning to look right. The tricky part of this would be to make it look like his face was backlit by the street lamp, but still have enough fill from the front that you could make out his features.
The sum total was that I got great pictures of him in what was obviously the Attic Allure style. I would be asking for permission to put that photo in my gallery. I’d need a special permission for limited display since he wasn’t part of my model crew.
Anyway, I was clear for photos and could study all week until my next sessions on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. So, when I spotted her in the hall on Wednesday, I asked Roxie if she’d like to go out this weekend. She agreed and we decided to go to a play called Our Town that was being produced by the high school in Huntertown.
I shot another retake on Saturday afternoon and then got ready to go on my date. Chris had come to do makeup for the senior and when she left, she grinned at me and put a hand on my cheek. I thought she was going to kiss me, but she just said, “Have fun on your date.”
Roxie looked nice. I stopped and met her parents before we left. She was wearing a short skirt, sweater, and black shoes with bobby socks. I hadn’t noticed how cute she was, mostly because I hadn’t been looking at any of the other girls in our class. Maybe I was getting jaded by the number of girls I’d seen naked.
Roxie never hesitated when she got in the car. She slid right over to the center seat so she could lean against me. I had to concentrate on keeping my hands on the wheel instead of wrapping an arm around her.
“It’s so cultured of you to take me to a play instead of a movie or bowling or something,” Roxie said. “Is this what you do in Chicago for dates?”
“I never really went on dates in Chicago. Sometimes a bunch of us would meet to go get a hamburger, but mostly, we went to school dances like we do in Tenbrook. I guess some of the older kids would go into the city if they wanted something cultured like a play or concert. That was nothing I could ever afford to do.”
“Then I feel really special.” She made a kissy noise at me, but she didn’t try to actually kiss me while I was driving.
When I got to the Huntertown school and parked, I ran around to her side to open the door. She scooted over and stuck a leg out, exposing herself all the way to her pink panties. She didn’t seem to notice, or to mind if she did notice. She just took hold of my hand and held it as we went to get tickets.
It was a pretty good show, but kind of sad, I guess. I mean the kids grew up next door to each other, fell in love, got married, had kids, and then she died. The whole last act was set in the graveyard with her among the dead people.
About the time the lights went down for the second act, Roxie pulled at my hand and leaned into me.
“You can put your arm around me,” she whispered.
I guess the invitation wasn’t quite enough and she pulled my arm around her shoulders. Every once in a while, as George and Emily prepared to get married, Roxie gripped my thigh or reached over to touch my chest. At the beginning of the third act, Roxie pulled my hand down off her shoulder and under her arm to hold with her other hand against her side. Like just barely below her breast. It was kind of hard to concentrate on the last act.
I knew how dangerous it was, but I drove home with my arm around Roxie except when I had to shift gears. That gave us about twelve or thirteen miles with her holding my hand over her shoulder and just at the top of her chest, while she talked about how sad the play was and asked if I believed people don’t understand the value of life when they live it. I could see the point in the play. I thought we tended to get all involved in what we were doing and didn’t take time to see the larger world around us. I was about to comment on the war and what was going on when Roxie spoke.
“That’s why I want to do everything. I want to experience everything and go everyplace and try everything that comes my way.”
She lived out in the country, about two miles north of town on a farm. I pulled into her driveway and parked, turning off the car so I could walk her to her door. As soon as I was parked, Roxie was kind of all over me. She got me turned toward her so we could kiss. That first kiss might not have been as fabulous as kissing Chris, but it was still a real charge.
“Ronda said you could teach me a lot about kissing,” Roxie whispered. “Show me. Show me everything.”
Well, I’m not sure how Ronda would know. And the more Roxie and I kissed, the more I doubted I had anything I could teach her. She was an avid kisser and we worked over each other’s mouth and tongue. I’d had the heat on in the car, so Roxie’s coat was open and I’d slid my hand around her as we kissed so I was holding her close to me. And I can’t describe how it happened, but somehow while we were really involved in a tongue battle, my hand just kind of moved on its own around to cup her right breast and squeeze a little.
Roxie didn’t push me away. In fact, her kissing became even more enthusiastic as I marveled at the very first breast I’d ever had in my hand. And Roxie had an abundant supply of breast to fill my hand and then some.
“Wow! You are some kisser, Roxie,” I said as I looked at her, my hand still planted on her breast. She looked down and then took hold of it, not moving it away, but just holding it there.
“You, too, Nate. Maybe next time we go out, we’ll do more.”
Then she pulled my hand away from her soft sweater and softer breast and started to slide over. I jumped out of the car and held her hand as we walked to her back door. She gave me one more deep kiss and then I went back to the car as she went inside.
Damn! The first tit I ever held!
“Did you have fun this weekend?” Chris asked when she slid into the seat next to me in English class.
“Yeah. It was good.”
I wasn’t sure how else I should answer. I’d done another photo session Sunday and still managed to read the first chapter of The Great Gatsby. This was going to be our major reading for second semester as well as a bunch of short stories. We were going to have a US History series combined with our English class on trends of the twentieth century, focusing on the boom and bust cycles as influenced by the two great wars. I wished Christine was in the same US History class I was, but our schedules were different.
“How was your weekend?” I asked when we had a break.
“Yeah. Good. It was different, but I had some fun. Maybe tell you about it next weekend.”
That was right. We’d already promised to go out together this weekend. I was wondering if I should take Roxie out again. I mean, geez! The girl kissed like a demon and let me feel her up while we were into it. And she’d said we’d do more next time. I wasn’t sure if she meant we’d do more kissing or if she meant she’d go even further. Either way.
Well, I was committed. And when I stopped to think about it, aside from making out, I’d much rather spend time with Christine than Roxie.
“Where are you taking me this Saturday?” Roxie asked when she stopped me in the hall Wednesday. “Or are we just going to go park somewhere?”
“Um… I’m sorry, Roxie. I already have a date Saturday with Christine,” I explained. “I had a really good time with you. Maybe next week?”
The look of utter distaste she gave me dispelled any thoughts I had of going out with her again.
“No more nookie for you,” she spat. I guess that adventure was over.
I went to the basketball game Friday night feeling like I was close to all caught up on my homework. There was a dance afterward and I went, just wondering what the experience would be this time.
And once again, Christine found me and we went out for half a dozen dances before we came off the floor and she went to join the girls. I saw Roxie headed toward me, but before she got there, Ronda stepped up in front of me.
“Time to swing, Nate,” she said. Well, that was all right with me. Ronda was a hell of a good dancer and people actually gave us room on the dance floor to do our thing. We must have danced for close to half an hour.
“Ronda, I love dancing with you,” I said. “It’s so much fun.”
“Good. Then you can escort me to the Homecoming Valentine Dance.” The school figured it could economize some by having the basketball homecoming dance on Valentine’s weekend. Valentine’s Day wasn’t until Monday, but everyone figured the Saturday dance and party would be plenty.
“Um… Ronda. I mean… thank you for asking me, but I really was hoping I’d be able to take Christine,” I said. I wondered if that was going to get me the same virtual slap in the face that Roxie gave me. I mean, Ronda was truly a knockout, but she’d made it pretty clear that I only interested her as a photographer and as a dance partner.
“Okay,” she said, nodding her head.
“Huh?”
“Okay. You can take both of us. You can ask her when we walk home tonight. Now come with me and let me introduce you to a couple of lonely seniors who really want to dance,” she said.
I wasn’t too sure what just transpired. It sounded like I was walking Christine and Ronda home from the dance again tonight. That was good. Ronda took me over to another group of girls who were sitting on the bleachers.
“Hey, Joan. Have you met Nate? He’s like the official school photographer, but he’s a little shy. He’s been asking about you, though, so I figured I should bring him over and ask you to dance with him or he’d never work up the nerve to do it,” Ronda said.
“Um… Hi, Nate,” Joan said. “I guess I could dance with you, but I can’t do all the fancy stuff Ronda does.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “It’s pretty exhausting and I’d rather not get known for performing all the time. Thank you for dancing with me.” Whatever Ronda’s game was, I was just playing along.
Joan was a nice girl with dark blonde hair, a short skirt that was just a little longer than the minis so many girls were wearing in non-school hours, and the usual kind of tight sweater over a well-armored bra. We danced a couple of numbers and loosened up a little. It turned out that Joan was pretty fun and incredibly smart. It looked like she’d be valedictorian of her class. Yeah, Joan was a senior. I thought I should ask her out, but she declined. I escorted her back to her spot on the bleachers and just turned to the next person on the bench.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know your name. I’m Nate. Would you like to dance?”
“Um… Sure,” she said. “I’m Lynn. It’s nice to meet you, Nate.” We got to the dance floor just as the music slowed down and I took her into my arms. She just melted into me as we shuffled around the floor, perhaps a little more energetically than the other dancers who pretty much just clutched and shuffled, ignoring the music. I was about to ask her out when she pulled away from me.
“Thanks for the dance, Lynn,” I started.
“You’re welcome. Excuse me now, please. My boyfriend is ready to leave.”
Her what? She headed back to her bench to collect her purse and coat and a guy I recognized as having been on the line in football took her hand and led her out of the gym.
Then, Chris and Ronda were on my arms and we began the last dance of the evening.
“I didn’t introduce you to Lynn,” Ronda hissed at me. “Don’t you look at a girl’s hand before you ask her out?”
“Her hand?”
“The engagement ring?” Ronda said. I hadn’t even noticed. “A photographer is supposed to be more observant.”
In a repeat of two weeks ago, I wrapped an arm around Chris from one side and Ronda put an arm around her from the other. We walked home. At Ronda’s door, we paused for that kiss goodnight that I figured Ronda would give Chris.
“Christine, Nate wants to create a scandal at school.”
“Really? That would be fun. What do you want to do, Nate? Post a bunch of girls’ naked pictures?” she laughed.
“No! I wouldn’t do a thing like that,” I protested.
“Well, ask her,” Ronda prompted.
“I wanted to ask you to go to the Homecoming Valentine Dance with me,” I said.
“Of course! I was hoping you’d ask,” Chris said. “That wasn’t very scandalous.”
“Oh, that’s because you’re only half of what he wants. Dear Nate wants to take me to the Homecoming Valentine Dance, too,” Ronda said. I started to protest, but Chris was all over it.
“That would be scandalous! But I see the sense in it. You know, I don’t dance as well as you do, Ronda. So, I guess he’d be taking you to dance with and me to make out with.”
Huh? The conversation was going too fast for me to keep up. Make out with Chris? Anytime!
“Well, I have to have someone escort me to the presentation of the court,” Ronda said. “They’d throw a fit if you did it.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s fine. As long as I get to dance with him sometimes.”
“Of course!” Ronda said. “But wait. Who am I going to make out with?”
Chris and I both faced her and pointed at each other. Then we slowly moved our fingers to point at ourselves. Ronda shrugged.
“Okay. That works for me. Better test it out.”
She quickly closed on Chris and I watched them kiss as my dick became painfully hard in my pants. Then to my surprise, Christine turned and kissed me with just as much passion or more. As soon as we parted, Ronda pulled my head to her and melted my brain with a kiss. Well, Christine said she’d learned from Ronda. Ronda was a true master.
“You don’t taste half bad when you’ve had your tongue in Christine’s mouth,” Ronda said. “I think we have an arrangement.”
Chris and I said goodnight and I walked her the two houses down to her house. There on the porch, we took our time and really poured ourselves into a kiss.
“Ronda’s really fun and a great kisser,” Christine said. “But there’s something about kissing you that just makes me juicy.”
“You know, I didn’t engineer that setup, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah. I could see Ronda’s scheming all over it. You know we’ve lived two doors from each other all our lives. She’s always organizing someone’s life for them. I wish I’d grown up that beautiful.”
“Christine, I know for a fact that you are phenomenally beautiful. Don’t ever doubt that.”
“Thank you, but you know. She’s just so perfect. Like, you’ll be the envy of every boy in school for taking her out,” Chris said, hugging me tightly.
“I’m the envy of every boy in school for taking you out,” I said.
“Mmm. Me, too. I mean of every girl.”
She raised her lips to mine and we spent such a long time standing on her porch kissing that everything but our lips was numb with cold.
“Goodnight, Christine,” I said, as I let her open her door.
“Yeah. I hope your night is as good as mine is going to be,” she grinned. “’Night, Nate.”
If Christine did what I did when I got home, we both had a really good night. Only this time, when I was imagining kissing and holding Christine, I kept having images of Ronda flit through my brain. The orgasm was phenomenal.
Chris came to the studio to help with Angela Wagner’s makeup Saturday afternoon. We had a lot of fun. Angela was a bit of a clown and used a beach ball and umbrella and a huge rubber duck I’d found as her props. She’d come prepared to pose in a bright yellow bikini. I used the light blue backdrop and spread a beach towel I found on top of it for her to lie back on.
Her pose was not unlike one that Patricia had done, though Angela did not lose her top. Still, the shape of her breasts outlined against the blue backdrop and a light I placed that made it look like she was lying in the sun, made for a glamorous photo and I was sure she would like it. While she dressed, I put things away and Chris chatted about what we’d do that night. I would pick her up about 6:30. We’d go for a burger and the movie. Huntertown didn’t get movies as soon as they were released. A Man for All Seasons had been released in Chicago before Christmas, but it just made it to Huntertown.
“That Angela is a sex goddess, isn’t she?” Chris asked as we drove into town.
“She does sell it,” I said.
“I’m surprised you didn’t recruit her to be a model,” she suggested.
“I’m not really recruiting models,” I said. “I haven’t had time to take a picture of any of the models I currently have. I haven’t done anything with Judy and Janice since the pose for Henry’s garage calendar. And they want to do something with Pete, which would be fun. I’ve scarcely seen Patricia since the New Year. I mean, in class, yes, but she and Tony have been disappearing as soon as school is out. I’ve got a session with Pam penciled in for sometime after basketball season. I’m trying to keep up with my classes and am only working in the studio on weekends.”
“I understand. That one combined project for English and US History is going to be intense. Any idea what you’ll work on?”
“I’m intrigued by the kind of rivalry between Fitzgerald and Hemingway. Don’t know exactly where it’s going yet. Fitzgerald had a kind of rich snob approach and Hemingway was in the gritty aftermath of war. It seems like it might work.”
“I’m thinking of doing something about the Great Depression and citing Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath. If I can do it without becoming too depressed myself.”
“That’s always an issue,” I said.
We got to the theater and I held Christine’s hand all the way through the movie. It was good, even though they cut off the guy’s head at the end.
I pulled up in front of Christine’s house at about ten-thirty. She’d ridden all the way back from Huntertown, right up next to me, but I didn’t take my hand off the wheel to put my arm around her. It was enough to know she wanted to be that close beside me. When I was parked, I put my arm around her and she willingly came to me for a kiss.
I really didn’t care what any other girl had to offer with her lips and tongue. Kissing Christine was the sexiest thing I’d ever done. She caught my hand as I was slowly headed toward her breast. She looked at me and smiled, so I didn’t think she was mad at me.
“Not yet,” she whispered. “Not that I don’t want to, but I want to look forward to it a little longer. Maybe after prom.”
“I’m sorry, Chris,” I said. “I didn’t mean to just grope at you.”
“I’ve shown you my bare breasts,” she husked. “I can hardly blame you for wanting to touch them. Did Roxie let you feel her up?”
“Um… I don’t… um…”
“It’s okay. Everybody knows she does it. I’d have been a little disappointed if she didn’t let you touch her. I’ll let you, too. I just want to look forward to it a little longer. And… um… I think it would be better for both of us if I wasn’t wearing so many layers of winter clothing. Don’t you?”
I certainly couldn’t deny that. The temperature had dropped to zero while we were in the theater and the car was beginning to get cold.
“I might be really falling for you, Christine.”
“Don’t say it. Not yet. You should look forward to that, too. Just kiss me like you really mean it.”
Oh, I kissed her, all right. And I had the feeling Chris was all in when she kissed me back. I walked her to her door and we had one more short kiss because it was just too cold to stand out there on her porch.
“Goodnight, lover,” she whispered as she went inside.
My reverie was ruined on my way home by a crash of glass from a block or so away. I ran out to the road with my camera in hand and pointed it as someone came running up the street, then turned suddenly and cut through someone’s yard. There wasn’t much light, but I took the picture anyway. I tried to think what else I had on that roll of film and whether I could push it when I developed it. It might be worth a try.
I went into the house and went to bed. A little of my buzz had died, but not enough to prevent me from recalling Christine’s kisses and promise of touching her when there weren’t so many clothes in the way. I looked at that picture of her beckoning me closer and came again.
I did another senior retake Sunday afternoon and settled in to have ice cream and watch TV with the family when the phone rang. Mom had just sat down with her popcorn and motioned me to go answer the phone. I stepped into her study.
“Methodist Parsonage. This is Nate Hart speaking.”
“Um… Nate, this is Kelly Green. You probably don’t even remember me, but I was at the New Year’s Eve party you went to at the EUB church.”
“Sure, I remember you, Kelly. Let me see: You dye your hair, you love to watch professional wrestling, and you have thirty Barbie dolls. Two truths and a lie.”
“Geez! How did you remember that? I still like professional wrestling, but I quit dying my hair.”
“I might not recognize you next time I see you, then.”
“How about this Saturday?”
“Um… Is there another church event?”
“No. This is DAR. You know, Daughters of the American Revolution? Each year, they hold a dinner for the teenage granddaughters. That’s a joke. None of our grandmothers were actually in the American revolution, but they have this ‘patriot’s day’ some time in February each year to encourage their teen daughters to become active members. We’re allowed to bring dates and the event is a lot more tolerable if we do. Um… There will be a guest speaker of some sort who talks about our honorable heritage and mission of service,” Kelly said. I’m not sure she’d taken a breath. “Would you escort me?”
“Oh! When is it again?”
“Saturday at six. The event is usually over by eight or eight-thirty. We could um… maybe go for a drive into Huntertown or something afterward if you’d like.”
“That sounds very nice, Kelly. Let me just check with Mom and Dad real quick to make sure there’s nothing they have scheduled so I can have the car.” I didn’t think they did have. Usually, Mom practices her sermon Saturday night and Dad watches TV. I told them what was up.
“I don’t see a problem with that. Be sure you know how to dress for the event. I understand the DAR is a little formal.”
“Okay, Mom. Thanks.” I returned to the phone. “Kelly, I guess there’s no problem. Can you give me directions to pick you up? And what’s the dress code?”
Kelly gave me all the relevant information. I needed to make sure I put gas in the car. It was a county-wide event and I would need to go south to Huffington to pick her up and then back up north to Huntertown for the event. Then back to Huffington to drop her off and back home. It would be more than fifty miles. She told me I needed to wear a jacket and tie, but it didn’t need to be a suit.
I was confident that I was all caught up on my studies and was ready for whatever came the next week. It was a real surprise to me when Ronda caught my arm after school on Wednesday and practically marched me out to her car.
“Hey, what’s up?” I asked. “Not that I object to spending time with you, but this isn’t usual.”
“I need a picture,” she said. “It’s kind of urgent.”
She drove straight to the back stairs up to my studio, grabbed a bag from her back seat, and almost pushed me up the steps to get unlocked and inside.
“Would you tell me what’s up so I can at least get the right camera and film and set up?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’m really sorry, Nate. I’m just so flustered. Somehow the message that all the homecoming court needed pictures of themselves in their formals didn’t get to me. They’re supposed to be on display by Friday. I think someone was just trying to be mean and not tell me.”
“Okay,” I said. “I’m going to use my new camera. What color is your dress?”
“Blue.”
“Good color for you.” I pulled down the red backdrop. I could either filter to get a light contrast or for an almost black background. I went into the darkroom to get my good camera out of my safe. I loaded it and came back out to see Ronda standing there with her dress in one hand and wearing nothing but her panty hose.
“Jesus Christ, Ronda!” I said. I knew I should turn away, but I was transfixed. Her breasts were full and still didn’t sag. Like her pale blonde hair, her nipples and the ring around them were almost transparent. She was a wet dream fully dressed. Naked—or nearly so—I sprang a boner in record time.
“I need your help getting…” she looked up at me just staring at her with my mouth open. “Jesus! Boys! Okay, Nate, just look and stare for a minute.” She tossed the dress aside and held her arms out, then slowly turned in a circle. What an unbelievable ass. Her nude-color panty hose showed no sign of hair on or above her slit. She was full of bravado, but was blushing furiously.
“I’m sorry, Ronda. I didn’t mean to stare at you, but Jesus!” I said.
“You now belong to a very small and select club of boys who have seen me naked. A club of exactly one. Do I need to tell you what I will do to you if you ever tell anyone what you’re still looking at?”
“No. Ronda, I’d never tell anyone. What do you need me to do?” I shook myself into action and went to her dress.
“It’s got a very tight bodice and I’d never get it up over my hips. I need you to drop it down over my head. Wait. Now.” She raised her hands above her head which did incredible things to her breasts. I got the dress over her head and watched as they disappeared. As soon as it was on past her head, she dropped her arms and grabbed hold of the front to keep it from falling. “Now zip, please.”
I found the zipper in back which only came down to exactly her waist. She was right. She’d never get that tiny waist pulled up over her hips. I pulled the zipper up and tried to keep the dress smooth as I did. I closed the little hook and eye at the top and then tugged the waist down just a bit to straighten it out. She was adjusting the front.
Her boobs just filled the top to overflowing.
“It has a built-in bra, which is why I took mine off. With the back cut like it is, anything I put on under this would show.”
I looked at her and could see the sparkle of a tear forming in her eye. She really hadn’t meant to expose herself to me. I grabbed a tissue and carefully dabbed at the corner of her eye.
“Don’t mess up your makeup. You know you always look perfect,” I said gently. “Do you have your brush handy? Let me smooth out these ends that got loose when we put your dress on.”
She looked at me strangely and then grabbed her brush out of her bag. She looked at it and then handed it to me.
One thing I’d learned from watching Chris work on the hair of my senior retakes was that most girls did things under the surface of their hair—ratting it, I think they said—and you had to just smooth out the top. I didn’t think Ronda did much in the way of ratting, but I didn’t dig in with the brush anyway. I just smoothed out the bits that had popped loose when they were caught on the dress.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Why don’t you step into the bathroom and make sure we didn’t smear any of your makeup?” I said. “You might want to refresh your lipstick.”
Contrary to what Avery had been wearing, Ronda’s lipstick was rather pale and it just served to accent her delicate features. She returned from the bathroom looking refreshed and like herself.
“Now let’s just get you in front of the screen and adjust the lighting to work a little of the Attic Allure magic,” I said. The depth of the smile she broke out was stunning. I knew she’d want at least one full-length picture, but the real beauty of this dress was from the waist up. Her waist was so tiny that I thought I could almost wrap my two hands around it and have the fingers and thumbs touch.
I used a couple of different filters, but it really only took one roll before I knew I had what I wanted.
“I’m going to process this right away and I’ll have the proofs for you by tomorrow morning. I’ll be in the darkroom if you want to go ahead and get changed,” I said, heading for the darkroom.
“Um… Nate?” I turned to look at her. “I kind of need your help getting out of it, too.”
“Oh, geez. Okay. I’ll… try not to look.”
“Don’t bother trying. It’s my fault. I can’t blame you for being a boy.”
I unzipped the dress and she held her arms up as I lifted it over her head. It was all I could do to turn away from those mesmerizing breasts and lay the dress neatly on the bench. I stepped toward the darkroom.
“Nate?” I turned. She was still standing there in just her pantyhose. “Do you want a picture?” She was panting slightly and her breasts were rising and falling more rapidly than when she was first exposed. “I know you have a picture of Chris. You might as well have both your Valentines.”
“I really liked… No, I loved looking at you. I feel like I’ve received a treasure that is beyond value. You are so beautiful and perfect. Thank you. But you don’t need to push it any further. I know you don’t really like guys. This was just between you and me as friends. To the rest of the world, it never happened.”
She jumped at me and pressed her lips against mine and her tongue into my mouth. That left her bare breasts pressed against my shirt and my hands caressing her bare back as we kissed. She quickly turned away and grabbed her bra. I turned my obscenely pointing dick to the darkroom and started processing the film. I expected Ronda to be gone by the time I got out.
She wasn’t. She was fully dressed again, but was just sitting at the table reading. She looked up.
“Did they turn out okay?”
“The negatives look good. I’m going to print a contact sheet and look at the proofs then I can bring that to you with my recommendation.”
“Can I wait?”
“Really? Sure. You can watch if you want to. We’ll be in a dark room together,” I said, trying to sound spooky.
“Okay.”
She came into the darkroom with me and watched as I cut the negatives into strips and laid them out then I got the box of paper and switched out the light, changing to the red bulb.
“Red doesn’t affect the photosensitive paper,” I explained as I lined up the negatives.
“I don’t really hate guys,” she said as she watched. “I can even imagine that one day in the distant future, I’ll want one to have a baby with. But honestly, Nate, have you ever seen anything more beautiful and appealing than a naked girl?”
I laughed.
“You’ve got me there. You’ve probably seen many more than I have, but I admit I find them—including you—beautiful and appealing.”
“Thank you. You were really a gentleman. I can’t think of any other boy in our class who wouldn’t have just grabbed hold of my tits as soon as he saw them. Except maybe Kent. I’m pretty sure he’s queer. But you… Well, I can’t blame you for staring. I’d have probably been staring if, say, it was Christine. But you just went about helping me get dressed and then took care of my hair and makeup.”
“Ronda, believe me it was a struggle to control myself.”
“It seems like since I was twelve years old, every boy I know has been trying to look up my skirt or down my blouse.”
The conversation lagged as I turned off the enlarger and moved the paper to the first developer tray.
“You know, I’ll fight you for her,” Ronda whispered.
I looked around at her under the red light. It didn’t affect the exposure of the photo paper, but it played across her blonde hair and her face in an eerily pleasant way.
“As appealing as having a little wrestling match with you sounds, I’m not going to fight you,” I said.
“You’ll give her up?”
“No.” I moved the paper into the rinse tray. “I think we’re going to have to learn to share.”
Ronda looked at me intently in the ghostly glow of the red light. I moved the photo paper to the fixative. When I turned back to her again, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me again.
“You should probably expect more of those,” she said as I panted. “I’m pretty sure there will be a bunch of times in the future when our tongues will be trying to get into the same space at the same time.”
I turned on the light and took the print to the bathroom for a final rinse in the sink. Then I laid the picture on a drying glass and squeegeed off the bulk of the water. I brought the print to the table and we examined the twelve proofs, even using the loupe to get a good close look. When we’d looked at each one, we both reached out and pointed at the tenth shot.
“That one,” we said together.
“I’ll print it up tonight. Four copies, you said?”
“Yeah. I need to give one to the committee Friday, one for me, and I want to give one to my boyfriend and one to my girlfriend,” she said. “Thank you, Nate. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She didn’t kiss me again; she gathered her things and left.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
