Long Lost Crush


First, I must tell you I never expected to see him again. It had been 10 years since I’d laid eyes on him. Of course, it had been only a few days since I’d thought of him. I’d been watching some tv show that had a student talking about her crush on a teacher. It was close enough in situation that I thought of him (not that it took much). I’d better go back and start closer to the beginning of this story.

Fred started as our student teacher in Band when I was in high school. I was one of those kids who liked to help out, so I and my closest friends were the secretaries and go-fers of the directors. We spent a lot of extra time down around the band rooms, chatting and hiding from the big, wide world of high school. Fred and I seemed to connect almost immediately. Fred was about 22 at the time, and I was sweet 16.

After his stint as a student teacher, he graduated with his degree in Music Ed. and was immediately hired by my school. When he brought his fiance to band camp, though, it troubled me deeply. Not because I had harbored a fantasy (yet) of being with him, but because, in getting to know that woman, I worried that she was not a good match for him. My friends all dismissed my concerns (as did he) quickly, but I knew it would not work out.

I was not someone who dated. I was very involved in church and just never quite figured out how those relationships worked. He was someone who was very easy to talk with. Once in a while he would ask me why I didn’t spend more time with the kids, and I always found some reason close to the truth, but never quite honest. I could not tell him it was just to be with him, could I? Whatever the reasons, we spent a great deal of time together and I was very attracted to him. I remember when I finally voiced my concerns.


“Fred, are you sure you want to marry her?”

“What do you mean, Book Girl? Of course I do. We’ve been dating for 5 years. What else would I do?”

“I don’t know, Fred. She just doesn’t seem like a good match for you. Maybe I’m just being ridiculous, but she doesn’t even have the same sense of humor as you.”

“I guess opposites attract,” he said.


Well, he married that woman despite my concerns and we went our separate ways. I left town to go to college, and after college moved even further away. My closest high school friend, Lucy, ended up working for the band as a dance coach, and I heard news through her. I’d ask how he was doing now and then, but not enough to draw too much attention to the fact. It took about 10 years for that marriage to break up. During that last year, I saw him at my friend’s wedding.


I looked fabulous in that wedding. It was the thinnest I’ve ever been, and I was deeply tanned. The dresses were very nice, classic lines (even if they were pink). The dresses were nearly backless, too, but I was young and perky enough not to even have to worry about a bra. We danced at that wedding.

I remember the feel of his warm hand in the middle of my back. I remember the softness of his other hand in mine. If I close my eyes, to this day, I can feel the heat from his body as we danced close, our bodies occassionally brushing against one another. I was surprised to feel firm muscles and definition under his suit coat. I remember the sadness in his eyes when he spoke of his failing marriage. I don’t remember how many dances we had, but I remember some of the things we said.

“I’m sorry your marriage isn’t working.”

“You told me 10 years ago that you wished I wasn’t going to marry her.”

“I honestly don’t know if that was foresight or just my crush that made me say that.”


“Oh, come on, surely you knew.” I blushed, I’m sure of it.

“I know we had a very special relationship. You were always different from the others. You know that. I just didn’t know there was a crush involved.”

Being a chicken, I changed the subject subtly.

“Doesn’t Lucy look beautiful tonight?”

He smiled at me with something bittersweet, not falling for my dodge.

“I hear you have a boyfriend, Cat. Why didn’t he come up here with you?”

“He just had knee surgery, which apparently qualifies as a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card in regards to weddings of people you don’t know.” We both chuckled a bit, and he pulled me slightly closer.

“Don’t marry him just because you think you need to after investing time in the relationship,” he whispered into my ear. I had to resist pressing my cheek close to his lips.

“All the really good men are already married, Fred,” I whispered back.

“Not every marriage lasts forever, Cat.” He pulled me closer. We danced slowly, barely moving, our bodies together like long-time lovers. There are no words to truly describe what it felt like to hold his body close to mine, and to be held by him. Even though I was still terribly naive, I understood his implication. I could, perhaps wait for him. His hand shifted on my back. What is a carress? I felt my panties moisten, Sivas Escort thinking of the possibilities with this man.

Then the song ended and we both realized how close we were to doing something we’d regret. Or we chickened out. I’m not really sure which.


12 years later that friend Lucy unknowingly brought us together again at the Adoption Celebration for their first child. I’d driven the 4 hours to my hometown again, packing a lot of activity into the weekend. My brother was in a play that I’d seen on Friday night. The party for baby Alison on Saturday at noon, and my parents were singing in a choir Saturday night. Busy! My head was full of all the activity. Lucy was the only person I knew who would rent a party hall for a child’s first birthday. Of course, for her family, she’d need that space. There were dozens of them.

I pulled into the parking lot telling myself that it’s perfectly alright to be there without my own family. I’d rather not have my husband, as we hadn’t been getting along well for a few years. It was actually, in many ways, easier to go to social functions without his volatile temper. My son (now 8) had chosen to stay with my folks (and their computer) rather than come to some little girl’s party. I had just opened the door to the hall when I heard his voice call out from the parking lot.

“Book Girl!” Oh yes, that is what he’d called me. Ironic that I ended up becoming a librarian. “Book Girl! I can’t believe it’s you!” I smiled out towards him. I had wondered earlier in the week if I’d see him at this party. I had hoped against hope I would.

“Fred! Hello!” I held the door and watched him walk towards me, carrying an enormous package. I laughed, “What did you buy this baby, Fred?”

“I went through the baby toys at the store and chose the most obnoxiously loud and electronic baby toy I could find. It takes 8 D batteries,” he laughed. “But it’s the coolest thing! It’s a keyboard, really. I figure it will be good for her to bang on something other than their real instruments.” I held the door for him and took a good look at his face as he passed me. He had aged, of course, but I’ve always found laugh lines to be very sexy. I resisted reaching out to carress him as he wedged that huge package past me into the building. I sighed to myself, resolving to be “good”. I watched his backside as he went through the next set of doors. Well, there is good, and there is good. He still looked very good, indeed.

We entered the party and put our gifts in the designated corner. It felt oddly more like a wedding shower than a baby’s birthday. There were a lot of people there I’d not seen since Lucy’s wedding 12 years earlier. I hugged them all, sniffed back a few tears, shared quick bios, ate. All those great activities of catching up with people from your former life.

As the baby and mom and dad were unwrapping all the gifts, I stood towards the back of the hall, leaning against a table. I couldn’t help but laugh at all the children, running around like wild animals. I was just sniffing back a few more happy tears for my friends when I heard his voice again.

“So, Book Girl, tell me what you’ve been up to in the last 12 years.” He was standing next to me, speaking while looking straight ahead at the family action. I laughed quietly.

“Hmm – the Reader’s Digest version? I got married about 2 year after Lucy. I got preggers and had a baby 2 years later. I’ve been working for the public library all this time, loving it. I thought of you nearly every day.” There, I’d said it. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and saw his body tense. He unfolded his arms from across his chest and put his hands back behind him, hoisting himself to sit on the table.

“Every day?” He’s always been a man of few, but very significant words.

“Approximately.” Two can play his game.

“Fondly?” I smiled ruefully at his doubt and turned my head to look directly at him. Why not tell the truth? In for a penny, in for a pound.

“I tried to limit questioning Lucy about you to just once per phone call. I know you got divored – I’m sorry. Sounded like you were divorcing around the time I was getting married. Great timing!” I jokingly punched him on the shoulder. He grasped my hand and held it. I know it sounds cliche, but there was actually the feeling of an electrical charge running from his hand to my arm. I turned my head to look at where his hand touched mine.

“I’ve heard that it’s not the smoothest of marriages, Book Girl.” He whispered. I stared at the spot where his fingers held my wrist.

“You’ve heard the truth. In some ways, the longer we’re together the easier it gets, but mostly I just feel lonely.”

“I’ve thought about you, too, Cat.”

“I’m glad to hear the band is doing well.” I tried to avoid a drawn out discussion of my own difficult marriage. My eyes drifted up the length of his arm to meet his. I felt his thumb softly stroke my wrist.

“Cat. I think we need to talk in a less public place.” Our eyes were locked on one another’s, and Sivas Escort Bayan I felt like he could see down into my memories. My mouth went dry and my insides melted into pools of lava.

I nodded, unable to speak (which, if you know me, is a sure sign that something big is happening.)

“Come” he said. I followed quickly, glad that the entire crowd was focussed on the front of the room while we slipped out the back. He had my hand, still, and led me to the hallway where the restrooms were. We passed both rooms and he took me to the 3rd door. Opening it, he let us both in and closed the door behind us.

There was ambient light from two smallish windows in one of the walls, and I could see that this must just be a staging area for the parties. There were a few tables around the walls with ribbons and folded table cloths and napkins. I suppose there were other things around, but I didn’t take it in because Fred was still holding my hand and was now looking at me. I bravely met his eyes again.

“Hello, Book Girl.”

“Hello, Fred.”

He stepped toward me, backing me into the door I’d just closed. Closer he came, slowly weaving his fingers with mine as he narrowed the space between us.

“Book Girl” he whispered, his body starting to touch mine as I felt the door against my back. My breathing was shallow now, my palms sweaty. I still could not think of a response. It seemed like hours, that slow, seductive advance. Finally, his body held mine captive. I looked up into his eyes now, felt his breath on my face as he breathed my real name.

“Cat.” His lips lowered to mine, slowly, oh my lord, so very slowly. Torturous weeks it took for his lips to reach mine. My free hand found it’s way to his neck, my fingers riffling through his hair, pulling his face to mine, pleading for the torment of waiting to end.

“Yes,” I sighed into his mouth. Our lips touched gently at first, the sweet and tender carress of long lost friends. My first kiss, and yet it felt so right, so good that I felt I must be back in my familiar fantasy of him.

Our bodies did not wish to delay any longer. Soon, very soon, the kiss shifted to one of great passion, fire and previously unrequited lust. Both of my hands pulled his head into mine, pleading for him to kiss me so hard he left marks. I moved my hips forward, thrusting slightly, to find his arousal pushing into me. I felt his hard rod rubbing over my hipbone as he thrust in return.

“Oh, Fred,” I groaned, coming up for air. “Oh, Fred, I’ve wanted to kiss you for nearly 25 years. I’ve wondered for so long what this would be like. Kiss me again, Fred.” His hands were all over me now, pushing my shoulders into the door, grasping my shirt, feeling my hair, scooping my butt cheeks up with such force my feet nearly left the ground.

My hands traveled, too, over his head, cheeks, shoulders, down his back, clenching his remarkably firm ass, pulling him into me as I ground my hips into his.

Then one of his hands grazed over my left breast and I gasped with the sudden heightening of pleasure. My nipples were instantly rock hard and I could feel moisture dripping through my lower lips.

“I’ve wanted to touch you like this for just as long, Book Girl. It would have been very inappropriate while you were still my student. And then, well, you know the story. I don’t know why I made the choices I did.” He cut off on a moan as he squeezed one of my breasts in each hand through my sweater. I took one hand in mine and directed it beneath the cashmere.

“Touch me everywhere, Fred. Please, I beg you.”

He laughed at that. “Oh, Book Girl, you don’t need to beg.” His warm, gentle hands smoothed up under my sweater, over my belly, to cup my breasts and bra. “May I please take this off, Book Girl?”

“Yes,” I smiled up at him. “Please do.” He slid his hands behind my back and fumbled for a hook. “Fred? It’s in the front.” We both giggled as he found the clasp and released me. We groaned again in tandem as he pulled each nipple in turn, rubbing his fingers over them, playing with them between index finger and thumb. My head went back, now, as I enjoyed the sensations.

“Fred, just promise me one thing. If this is a dream, don’t wake me til we’ve done it all.” I felt his cock quiver into greater hardness against my hip.

“Oh, Book Girl, we shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, still tweaking my nipples. “I just don’t think I can stop.”

“Good,” I breathed up to the ceiling. “Don’t ever stop.”

His hands were still massaging my breasts, rough palms keeping my nipples erect. His head bent to kiss my neck, nibbling a little. Our hips ground together, pulsing and relentless. I cupped his face with my own hands and pulled his lips to mine again. My tongue swept into his mouth, demanding, frantic, finding his tongue and wrestling. We moaned into one another’s mouths. His hair was so soft under my fingers. I was glad he kept it a little long.

His mouth left mine and travelled to my right ear. His breathing was ragged as his tongue rimmed my ear and then dipped Escort Sivas in. His breath caused new sensations on the damp skin. In and out, he gave me a foretaste of that for which our bodies were calling out. Carefully, methodically he licked my ear, sucked on that earlobe while still fondling and squeezing my breasts. My hands left the back of his head and traveled quickly down, finding his butt again.

I was a little surprised and very happy to find he was still in great shape. Pictures of 20 years earlier flashed through my brain. Fred in shorts, running laps around the football field. Fred in his suit, climbing the ladder to conduct the band on the field. Fred and I sitting on the porch of my camp cabin, his eyes meeting mine as he listened to my ramblings.

“I’ve loved you for so long.” The words just slipped out of my mouth on a sigh. I wasn’t sure I’d even said them aloud until he pulled his face back to look at me again.

“Book Girl. I told you at Lucy’s wedding how I felt, didn’t I?”

I smiled softly. “No, Fred, you didn’t really. You implied, but you never said anything clearly.”

He placed one hand on each shoulder and pressed me against the wall, his hips pressing against mine, his back arched a bit so he could look down at me, eye to eye. “Ms. Book, you have been in my fantasies since you were in high school. You are right, and the timing has always been bad. I want you now because I have wanted you for 20 years.” He cocked his head to one side, smiling ruefully. “You are the one who is still married. Are you sure you want to be doing this with me?”

“My marriage has been bad for a while.”

“I’d heard.”

“I have no intention of leaving him, though. I do love him, despite the problems. And I have my son to think about, too.”

“I understand.”

“Please don’t stop touching me, Fred. I’m prepared to deal with the consequences of this meeting.”

“Hehehe,” he laughed. “You sound like a librarian.”

“Well, then, Professor Hill, kiss me again or I’ll start singing!” He laughed at my reference and kissed me soundly on the mouth. His tongue licked my teeth, explored my mouth. I groaned deep in my throat.

“I’ll make you sing, Baby.” He whispered as he lifted my sweater. He held one breast as if weighing it, and looked at it. I watched his eyes darken before he bent his head to lick the nipple. The small touch was electric. I felt the shock over every inch of my skin as he licked me again and again. Shivers cascaded down my spine when he took my hardened, moistened nipple into his mouth and started suckling. Oh yes, this was everything I’d imagined from him, and more. A professional brass musician, he knew well how to use his tongue and lips. I felt liquid drip down between my lower lips again to pool in my already wet panties.

I untucked his shirt and put my hands on his warm back. I felt his tongue lapping at my rubbery nipple now, flicking it up between his teeth. Little sparks of arousal built up the fire inside me. Each flick of his tongue sent a new shimmer through my nerves. His other hand massaged and carressed my other breast. My hands could not stay still, wanting to feel every inch of him, wishing we could disrobe and really be free. I snaked my hands under his shirt again, smothing them across his ribs and around front to feel his nipples. Yes, they were already hard with arousal, and I used my nails to give him some of the sweet ecstasy his tongue was giving me.

He gave off working the one breast and turned his attentions to the other. Again his tongue laved me, making my nipple tingle with the attention. My fingers wove through his hair again as he caused me to groan. He took the nipple between his teeth and sucked in, flicking rapidly with his tongue. He used his teeth to scrape my tender flesh, bringing forth another small moan from me. He latched on, then, and suckled like a babe while his hands moved below to clench my ass through my jeans.

I lowered my hands and clenched his butt in response, pulling him closer. We ground our hips together in a dry hump, doing what our bodies both cried out for.

“I must have you, Fred. Please.” I whispered madly as I unbuckled his belt. He grinned with passion and intent as he helped me push his slacks down to his ankles. The sight of the bulge in his briefs made me drool. I placed my hand over the shape of his hard cock. It looked perfect there, and so very sexy, hidden under the white cotton. “Oh, Fred, how nice.” I stroked my warm fingers over his length and was rewarded with a small groan from him. Gently, I pushed his shoulders back a bit so I could watch what I was doing.

I slid my hands down under his briefs on either hip, moving my fingers to cover his butt again. After one tender squeeze, I pulled my hands back to his hips and started to move his briefs down. Slowly I moved them down his thighs, leaning forward to plant a kiss on Fred’s lips. My eyes watched as his hard cock was caught on the waistband, making the rod move out toward me as if it were bowing to a lady. I bent over and grabbed the elastic carefully with my teeth and pulled it out and over his knob, and then released so I could continue to take his briefs down. When they were past his knees I slowly stood up straight again, trailing my fingers over his skin, up his thighs, until I was cupping his scrotum and cock, one in each hand.

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