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This is a question Will you go out with me?

"Bloody Kraut, a" asks, "How did you get your current flame to go out with you? If they turned you down, how bad was it?"

Was it all romantic? Or were the beer goggles particularly strong that night?

(, Thu 28 Aug 2008, 17:32)
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My Childhood Sweetheart
She had large brown eyes and long wavy hair worn in plaits tied with navy blue ribbons.

When she smiled the room lit up and when we all played kiss-chase she never ran from me.

We were both five when I proposed and from that day on for two years each morning we could be found sitting on the steps outside our classroom repeating the same words to each other –
“I’m going to marry you when I grow up”


When we were seven and the allure of an older woman who owned her own jumbo sized pencil-sharpener became too great I faltered.

My lovely brown-eyed fiancée was told that I was going out with Clare H now and I no longer loved her in her pencil-sharpenerless state.

She cried and I felt like a heel.

Even stories of Little Black Sambo who outwitted the tigers and ate pancakes for tea couldn’t cheer me up.

Each time I glanced around the classroom her large brown eyes would find me and silently plead with me but my hand was held fast in a sweaty embrace with Clare and our love was sealed by her placing her pencil-sharpener into my pencil case.

Young love is a fickle beast and soon my relationship with the sweaty-handed Clare was over and I was once again single and sharpener-free.



I was always one of the lads and my days were taken up with football and playing Superheroes.

All of the girls refused our pleas to be our Wonder Woman or Bat Girl.
The girls wanted to play house under the rhododendron bushes, collect the fallen blossom or play strange clapping games.
A few fast and loose ones would entice you into a rhododendron house, lie on the beaten earth and lift their skirts so you could see their knickers.
None of us lads were interested in their cotton undies with the days of the week printed upon them – these could not match our pants with ThunderCats emblazoned upon them.

One girl finally accepted our offer to be Wonderwoman, to eschew the draw of flowers, house and other girl games, one girl saw how good the Superhero game was - the girl with the large brown eyes and wavy hair; she would be Wonder Woman for me.


Soon we were nearing the end of our long days in Primary school. We had all been split up, girls no longer talking to or sitting with boys, separate games lessons, boys smelled and girls were bitchy.

One girl was always in trouble with the teachers.
One girl was to be punished for her constant chattering to other girls.
She was to be sat next to a boy as surely the conversations would cease.

And so it came to pass that my wavy haired, brown eyed girl sat next to me.

Each Monday morning would be spent in giggles as I re-enacted Saturday night’s ‘Jim’ll Fix It’ for her with the aid of my novelty cigar biro pen.


Each Monday afternoon would be spent in detention – each of us smiling gently at the other.


And then the end came – off we went in separate directions to different schools – she to an all-girls’ grammar and I to a mixed comp.


I had been at my new school for a few weeks when I saw Diana – she was fifteen, blonde and stunning.

I found out that she lived in my village and I began a determined effort of stalking her. I followed her each Friday evening when she went to the youth club. I played pool with my friends and Diana, lovely Diana disappeared behind the back of the youth club hut and smoked with the local bad lads.


Then quite out of the blue I received a telephone call.

It was from the girl with the large brown eyes and wavy hair.

“Hello Richard. I’mgoingtoadisconextFridayeveningwouldyouliketocomewithme?”

“Um….”

“……”

“I’ll have to ask my mum. I’ll ring you back.”

Friday nights were Diana’s.

Diana had big bouncy breasts and smoked cigarettes.

I phoned the girl with the large brown eyes and wavy hair; I told her I had to visit my Aunt on that Friday, but thanks anyway for the invitation.


She never called again.


Another year passed, I grew by six inches and my mates sent me into the Offie for cans of Stella.

I still went to the Youth Club with its twin attractions of Diana and the pool table.

Then one evening Diana invited me around the back for a fag.

She leaned forward and kissed me gently, her lips were damp and her breath was heavy with Silk Cut and cheap cider.

My mates stood and watched, each drawing deeply on their cigarettes and laughing about Diana’s friends in their short skirts and large thighs.

I slid my hand up her white blouse until I could feel the silken smoothness of her bra. I kissed her deeper, my virgin tongue slipping in and probing her warm wet mouth. My hand cupped her lacy clad breast and my engorged cock began to nudge against her thigh. Her tongue began to respond to mine by twisting and circling in a way that I thought was sexy in a HotPoint kind of way. I kneaded and pulled gently at her tit, feeling her hard little nipple dance in my inky fingers. Diana’s fingers were playing with the waistband of my jeans, sharp fingernails were scratching my stomach and I could bear it no longer. I took her hand and shoved it down onto my rock hard pork sword and as her cool fingertips made contact I spluffed into my boxers.

“Will you go out with me?” I groaned to Diana as my brain began its slow journey back up to my skull.

“Nah. You’re cute right. But I like a man who can go all night. Wanna fag?”


Fifteen years passed.

During that time I shagged my way through Uni and across the world.

Diana I found out now had four kids and a loyalty card for IceLand.

That summer I received an invitation to a wedding of an old mate I’d studied with in Uni – a bit of a bastard if I’m being truthful, but it was the opportunity to get drunk at his expense, catch up with old mates and maybe even get laid.


I expect you can guess who the bride was…when I saw the invitation I did a double take – she has a very unusual name the girl with big brown eyes and wavy hair.


I went to the wedding and watched my first love walk up the aisle.

I watched her marry a man whom I know is a bastard.

I watched her marry a man whom I know was unfaithful to her during his stag night – I know because I was there right along side him as we both screwed working girls for £60 each.



After the ceremony I finally got chatting to her, my wavy haired, brown eyed girl.

I reminded her of her promise to marry me when she grew up. She laughed and just as when she’d been a child, her laughter and smiles lit up the room.


And finally I had the courage to say to her what I should have said long ago,

“Will you go out with me?”


She laughed again and told me that if ever things went wrong with her marriage I’d be the first one she’d contact.





Six months later she called me.
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 16:39, closed)
That's beautiful
So have a click!
*click*
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 16:55, closed)
Dunno whose sock-puppet this is
but I like. Keep writing these.

Eventually I'll figure out your real user name. *grin*
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 16:59, closed)
And?
Can't write a story like that and then keep me in suspense.

What happened?

(Click by the way)
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 17:10, closed)
Great story, but...
I wouldn't have been that persistent myself.

Mind you, I'm a pessimistic bastard anyway, so what do I know?

*slopes off ranting about the futility of it all*
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 17:19, closed)
A lovely story
... have a *click*
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 17:24, closed)
*clicks*
Yes, but, and...?
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 17:35, closed)
by twisting and circling in a way that I thought was sexy in a HotPoint kind of way
truly splendid

*realises has been bettered and never posts again*
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 17:51, closed)
^^
Is first to call spimf a big lying cunt.
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 17:59, closed)
goddamn
I have a really short attention span.

I ultra-fast skim read it but all I retained was the word "nipple", about half way down.

Synopsis, anyone?
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 17:59, closed)
^^No.
Read it, as one of the few stories that is truly well written.
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 18:25, closed)

That was incredibly nice. :) /clicck.
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 18:36, closed)
I did a little tear
Beautiful :)
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 20:36, closed)
Surreal
Reading this while listening to Beloved's Sun Rising...surreal, yet fitting...and lovely story too.

What happened next if I may enquire?

Oh, and *click likes*
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 21:02, closed)
Nice one!
Have a click.

And what happened????
(, Mon 1 Sep 2008, 22:58, closed)
please, PLEASE tell me
you are together now?
i imagined the whole thing happening in a 50's b&w movie style.
(, Tue 2 Sep 2008, 19:52, closed)

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