Young Love

More teen dating stories although this one is a little lighter.

When I moved to D.C. there was this girl who lived in my apartment complex. We gradually became friends. We'd hang out in the lobby or the basement or the roof. We'd watch television together in the afternoons, hang out in the drug store down the street. She was my first regular interaction with the female species and already I was deep in the friendzone.

I could live with that until a friend of mine from Jersey came to visit for a few days and they ended up making out. I upped my game only to discover I didn't really have a game yet. I do remember one weird afternoon with the three of us lying on a bed intertwined passing a bottle of Harvey's Bristol Cream. My friend later managed to rhyme Harvey's Bristol Cream in a love poem he wrote her so kudos to him.

After he left I was determined to make my move. Sometime later that summer, we were in the kitchen (mine I think) eating cereal when out of nowhere I kissed her. We started making out like crazy. It was kind of like when Andrew McCarthy finally makes the move on Ally Sheedy in St. Elmo's Fire, except they were good looking.

We became inseparable after that. We'd fool around in the laundry room (once she took my leather key chain, jammed it down her pants, rubbed it around and gave it back so I'd have her scent...jeez, how do kids think of these things?), the janitor's closet, the roof, and, of course, our own apartments. She also did a fair amount of dog walking in the building which gave us access to other strange bedrooms as well.

Of course, all we were doing was making out. I may have discovered Penthouse Forum, but I was not yet able to summon the courage to put those reading lessons into practice. For all her bluster and maneuvers with keychains, she too was still pretty innocent. Once we were fooling around in someone's bedroom and her head disappeared under the covers. I thought: pay dirt! At long last I would experience the joy I'd only read about. I waited. A few minutes went by. I kept waiting. A few more minutes went by. There was a hand down there fumbling around, but that was about it. A few minutes later (although it seemed like hours), I felt a single solitary lick. Then her head popped back up and she said, "phew, I didn't think I'd be able to do it."

Now, I had nothing to compare that to, but I was pretty sure from the literary works I'd been reading by college freshmen in small New England colleges that what I had experienced was not what they were describing. Unfortunately, it would be another few years until I was able to receive confirmation of just how shortchanged I had been.

Our relationship petered out when school started in the fall. There was one aborted attempt at intercourse in the bushes along the side of our building but technical difficulties prevented us from achieving liftoff. I've always been grateful that we failed because it would've been pretty awful and could have only led to disaster.

I don't know what happened to that one. The Google searches don't turn anything up. Although, to borrow from Bruce, she wasn't a beauty but hey she's alright, I was no prize either. There were worse ways to spend a summer.