Dinah Part Seven Of Ten

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Analplug

My name is Marcus Veovin. I’m a guy with a lot of stories to tell and all the time in the world to do so. In my time, I’ve done a great many things including – but not limited to – bagging groceries, attending college, writing and reporting, supervising at a shipping company, and even seeing the horrific underbelly of the world from a perspective people would never believe even if I did tell the entire story in graphic detail. Lately, I find myself sitting back and doing a lot of reminiscing. For starters, I was raised by a loving family and had plenty of friends growing up. Unfortunately, most of my family has passed on and I’ve lost contact with ninety-nine percent of my old school buddies, but the memories remain and will always make me smile. I’ve had many good years in my lifetime that I wouldn’t give up for anything, and it’s times like those that one can never get back.I’ll never forget how back in the “good ol’ days,” we used to go “cruisin’ for chicks.” I had one friend who was always hornier than a flock of rams. Huh. Funny I should think of rams since he always talked about the many different ladies he wanted to “ram.” He even had a fascination with a lady from history who was quite fond of wearing a tiara with ram horns, but before I digress too much, I can officially say that Midtaune was something else and always succeeded at making the rest of us laugh.I should probably back up and explain myself a little better. We weren’t a group of guys looking for a bunch of fast and easy chicks – well, with the exception of Midtaune, of course – but no, we were far from it. Most of us just wanted to have a good time and didn’t need to find a woman willing to “go all the way” just to have our fun. “Crusin’ for chicks” was usually just code for going out and driving all over the city to kill a boring weekend night. Rarely did our adventures end with us actually meeting anyone whom we stayed in contact with in the long run. Looking back on those days, one might think we wasted a lot of time in our youth on those goofy drives, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Back then, I always considered those misadventures to be bonding time with the guys…even if we did fall out of touch over the years. I’ll always cherish my time with my old buds.In those days, I can truthfully say that if one of our adventures had actually borne fruit, I don’t know how much it would’ve mattered. I knew at an early age that I liked girls very much and I’ve appreciated the female form since I learned how to walk. While growing up, I had always dreamed of finding the perfect woman to marry and lose my virginity to, but sometimes fate has a weird way of countering our plans. Sometimes, we have to work with the cards we’re dealt in an abstract way in order to come out on top.I turned nineteen during the summer before my final year of school. At the time, I was actually looking forward to the coming school year because knowing it was my last one made me feel like I was a big fish in a small pond. Even though it’s been years, I still remember our silly slogan: “One and done: It’s our last year!” I still laugh at it because it sounds like something a bunch of smartass teenagers would say because they thought they had life all figured out. Guess I shouldn’t laugh too hard since that was exactly the case, but it is ironic to look back on that time and think about where people are now. As I previously mentioned, I fell out of contact with most of my friends, but with the “blessings” of modern technology and the internet, it doesn’t take much for one to go online and discover what became of most people. I can honestly say I rarely use those web pages and platforms, but when I have, it’s brought me nothing but pain and misery. It really sucks to see what Bolu Escort befell some friends…and to discover that some ended up passing on at early ages without my ever being the wiser. I think it’s sometimes better to remain blissfully in the dark.In spite of everything, over the summer before my final academic year, I was hanging out with one of my older female friends quite a bit. She was this beautiful, busty blonde woman by the name of Freya. She had graduated a year ahead of me, and we had been friends throughout most of our time in school. Some people were even under the assumption that we had dated at one point since we could so often be seen together, but I honestly saw her as a close friend instead of a girlfriend. Looking back on it now, I realize we probably could have made more of what we had if I hadn’t been so oblivious around members of the opposite sex and simply asked her out, but I just never saw Freya in “that way” at the time. It would be something else to be able to speak to her nowadays, but I’m not sure that fate would be so kind.Anyway, when I was younger, I had no sense whatsoever for when a girl was being flirtatious. About ten years after graduating, one of my closest friends, Welch, used to tell people that I was a “babe magnet” during our educational run and that the girls were always fawning over Marcus Veovin. He would tell people that I could’ve had a date every single weekend with a different girl every night of the entire school year, but I thought he was crazy. When I called him and some of my other friends out on it one night when we were out reminiscing, the others all agreed with him. I had simply retorted by asking, “Where the hell was I?” Their response: “You were just oblivious.” Wow. Some friends. Had they told me back then, maybe it would’ve opened my eyes a little more and things would’ve turned out differently. Who knows. Life is full of “what ifs” and “might have beens,” I guess.Getting back on track to the summer before my final year of school, one of those oblivious moments took full swing when I was hanging out with Freya one evening. We were at her parents’ house just watching TV in her bedroom in the basement. She lived in a nice house because her dad had hit it big with some invention that did something beneficial for local sewer systems. I know that doesn’t sound glamorous by any means, but he just invented the damn thing…he never had to actually go into the sewers. Whatever the apparatus was, it made their family a boatload of money. Had Freya wanted, she probably wouldn’t have had to work a day in her life because she was technically on easy street, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to head off to college miles away to go to school for nursing. She had a big heart and wanted to help people.Freya was about a month away from leaving for college on the night when she interrupted the movie we had been watching to tell me that she was going to miss all the times we had hung out with our large group of friends. I responded by telling her the same, but she kept cutting me off while trying to reiterate that what she was going to miss the most were the times we had spent together. Like I said…oblivious. It took me a few minutes to realize that she was specifically talking about our one-on-one time that I had no idea she had enjoyed so much.I could go into much greater detail about what happened next, but that’s a story for another time. Suffice it to say, the wonderful woman I had known for the last several years of my life had told me that I was going to make some lucky girl very happy one day, and she wanted me to be prepared for that. We didn’t end up going all the way on that night, but she did do a few things to me that I had never imagined Bolu Escort Bayan possible…and I’ll just leave it at that.I’ll always thank Freya for that incredible moment not just because the memory is still vibrant in my mind all these years later, but also because it did prepare me better for things to come. It’s funny how she was able to instill such confidence in me over the course of a single night, and I think it really helped me to open up to the opposite sex over my final year of school. When autumn rolled around and the new school year started, I met a couple of girls right off the bat in my Astronomy class whom I simply adored. Their names were Cassandra and Rosalind, but I called them Cassie and Rosa for short. In my eyes, they were two of the most beautiful girls I had ever had the honor of knowing…but they both fell victim to a lot of verbal bullying in school.Some of the nastier kids in the school referred to them as “fat and flat.” While Cassie was just a little overweight, I saw her as “pleasantly plump.” She was by no means fat, and the few extra pounds she carried made her adorable in my eyes. I thought she was a real stunner, and after I got to know her better, I had nicknamed her “Cutie Cassie.” It goes without saying that she appreciated the moniker.Rosa, on the other hand, lacked much of a chest. Now, this may sound weird, but flat-chested women have always kind of turned me on. Like any red-blooded male, I love boobs. I love boobs of all sizes. I don’t care if they’re big or small, round or saggy, shaped like papayas or pointed like torpedoes…I adore and appreciate them all. When it comes to boobies, I’m not picky. Rosa, of course, hated the fact that she couldn’t sprout a chest like all of the other girls surrounding her in our school…but when I started drowning her in compliments, she finally forgot about the jibes from the other kids and became a lot more confident in herself.I should probably back up a bit. As previously stated, I met both Cassie and Rosa in my Astronomy class on that first day of the new school year. I didn’t know it at the time, but they had both been picked on throughout their entire scholastic lives, and on that first day of class, the insults had been no different. In the years we had gone to school together, I had never taken any courses with either one of them, so I hadn’t met them until that first day of Astronomy class. I’m not trying to sound arrogant or anything of the like, but I had always been fairly popular in school due to the fact that I had friends from every walk of life. I guess that’s what changed things for both of these wonderful girls in the long run because on that afternoon, I entered our classroom and saw the two of them sitting in the back of the room alone at one of the science tables…and that’s when I walked over and asked if I could join them.They were both a little shy at first, but they seemed genuinely delighted to have me with them…and we ended up turning the heads of quite a few other kids in the class. I would find out later that my associating with them and befriending them made the bullying stop since our other classmates saw me with them, so I was glad I ended up doing something good for the duo when it was all said and done.Again, this story is going off on a bit of a tangent. I could say a lot more about both Cassie and Rosa, but again, that’s a story for another time. Let’s just say that we became the best of friends, and I actually spent a lot more time hanging out with them than most of my male friends. We were pretty much inseparable by the end of the first semester of that year, and we tried to plan out having some of our classes together for the spring term.It was the first month of a new year when we were Escort Bolu working on a group project for one of our classes when another girl happened to become a part of our studying entourage. I could go into better detail about what happened on that cold, winter afternoon, but again, that doesn’t have much to do with the story I’m trying to tell now except for laying the foundation of what happened next. Let’s just say that things suddenly became a little weird between all of us…and I found myself not hanging out with Cassie and Rosa nearly as much anymore. I still adored them to no end, but we didn’t see as much of each other after a somewhat awkward incident.I was depressed for a while since losing their comradery was not something I had been expecting, but life must and always will go on. I had plenty of other friends to associate with, but I tended to keep to myself when I wasn’t in school. I found myself alone on most weeknights and even on the weekends because I had taken up a new hobby to pass the time: Writing. I don’t know why, but I suddenly became fascinated with the idea of creating my own worlds and jotting them down on paper. I had always enjoyed reading fantasy novels and comic books, so it was easy for me to brainstorm and create my own little realms that were far from reality in every sense of the word. I even started writing a few short stories that I would lend out to friends for feedback, and every time I received a response, I was always told the same thing: “Marcus, you have talent!”I figured some of the compliments were just my school chums being kind, but the more people read, the more they seemed to take to them. I’ve always said that sometimes you can just tell when a person is being truthful by looking into his or her eyes, and I was noticing quite a bit when my works would be returned to me.And it wasn’t just my fellow classmates that noticed my talent for creating.It was a particularly cold day late that winter when my Creative Writing instructor, Miss Mia, asked me to stay behind in class one afternoon. Creative Writing was my last class of the day that semester, and since I drove myself to school, I was in no rush to fly out the door like some of the other students. I simply nodded when she had asked me to do so and said that it wouldn’t be a problem. There were still twenty minutes left in the period that day, so I spent most of the time wondering what she needed to talk to me about. I was always very attentive in class and never caused disturbances, so I knew I wasn’t in trouble for anything. I’ll never forget watching the hands of the clock slowly move toward three o’clock as I pondered what our meeting could be about.Perhaps some context is in order. Most people would probably think nothing of being asked to remain behind for a few minutes after class, but again, I was an impressionable youth with a love and appreciation for beautiful women…and Miss Mia was exactly that. She was probably in her early to mid-twenties. It was her first year teaching at our school, and it wasn’t hard to tell that she was still trying to get the hang of things. She was a little under five and a half feet tall with fair skin and dirty blonde hair that bordered on making her a brunette. She had eyes that I describe as “breen” because they were this amazing mixture of brown and green – creative, I know – and I thought it was adorable how she was the oldest person I knew who still had freckles. She was a truly marvelous female in every sense of the word…and she had two of the largest natural breasts I had ever laid eyes on.Again, I’ve never been fazed by breast size in the way some guys are. I know nine out of ten guys love oversized, heaving bosoms, but I don’t care how big they are. However, on Miss Mia, her chest was truly a sight to behold. Her breasts didn’t go overboard, but they were certainly evident…and when a bunch of teenage boys are sitting in class trying to pay attention, well, it goes without saying that said bosoms become pretty noticeable.

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