Old Crush

[bobsloan]

OOC: Howdy, thought I'd stick my toe in the water...

Old Crush

Bob Sloan

I spent high school as an audio-visual club geek, 5'6" and a hundred pounds, with acne like a plague victim and hair like a zombie. I didn't so much spend high school as a virgin, I spent it completely and utterly dateless...I wasn't even rejected, mostly, just too cowardly to ask. Not that I _wasn't_ rejected when I asked, but hey...

I never did ask the girl I really wanted, anyway. Sandra Levin, 5'9", 140 pounds, with a body like a wet dream, long red hair falling down her back to curl slightly just above her perfectly rounded ass, just a hint of fabulous cleavage visible above her tight sweaters...well, as you can see, my crush is alive and well.

The last time I came back to my hometown, I hadn't seen Sandra since high school graduation, ten years before...she was going to the local state school to become a teacher, and marrying the football team captain, and I was going off to, of all things, the Army. After four years at West Point and six in the service, I'd gained a hundred pounds of mostly muscle and six inches, and I didn't shrink from the sight of sexy women anymore. Unless they tried to run me down with Buicks, but that's a story for another day.

It was in early December of 2000 when I walked into the Beartrap, everyone's favorite bar when we were in high school...hell, there were still about a dozen kids with IDs that had to be fake when I walked in the door. But there was one person there, a familiar face, not a girl, but a woman..."Is that Sandy Levin?" I asked as I walked up and sat next to her...

OOC: Sandy's marriage didn't work well at all, and she feels a quickly growing attention for the newly attractive Bob...or so. =)

 

[Daedalus]

Sandy

OOC: I'm not a woman, but I don't see why I can't write from a woman's point of view for this fantasy. If it bothers you, let me know and I'll leave the part for someone else.

I sat at the bar, starting to sip at my third drink. It probably wasn't a good idea to get drunk, but a least I knew good old Jim wouldn't be there to scream about it when I got home. So here I am sitting in the same bar we snuck into on our first date.

I should never have married Jim, even though I was pregnant. I thought everything would work out somehow, but it never did. First the miscarriage, then I had to drop out of college so Jim could finish his degree. I never should have let him work long hours with his new executive assistant, the bitch.

I giggled to myself, then again maybe it was a good idea, no Jim to yell when I get home. Too bad there aren't any studs in this place worth taking home with me. Just the high school kids, two old farmers and an auto mechanic. I can't stand oil stains.

Then soldier boy walked in, six feet of solid muscle. Now that's a man. I watched him in the mirror as he walked over and took a seat right next to mine at the bar.

I summoned up what little courage I had left and turned to him with a smile. "Hey, you're new. I'm Sandy."