Chase
“Hey, aren’t you Chase Richards?”
I looked up to find the taxi driver who’d picked me up from the bus station staring at me in the rearview mirror. I slammed the door, blew out a long sigh, and said, “I used to be.”
“Man, that was just awful, that wreck, I mean.”
He hunched over the steering wheel as if he thought I might bring him bad luck, and shook his head. I heard him say it several more times as we sat waiting for a break in the traffic so we could pull out of the bus station parking lot.
“Just freakin awful, man.”
“Yeah, just freakin’ awful,” I said quietly, turning my eyes to look out the window. He didn’t say anything else as he pulled into the heavy afternoon traffic and took the interstate south out of Birmingham. I guess maneuvering the heavy traffic required all of his concentration. Thank God.
After thirty minutes of stop and go traffic, we took the Centerville exit and ten minutes later we were on Main Street, ten minutes from my mom’s house on Fern Street.
We passed my old high school and I immediately thought of Mollie. I remembered the first time I spoke to her. She was taking the football team picture for the yearbook and we were all clowning around like testosterone-infused idiots. The coach had to rein us in like little kids at a birthday party.
I remember how serious she looked, fiddling with the camera and doing her best to be patient with us. When I smiled at her she frowned and quickly looked away. I still don’t know why, but I was immediately smitten. Maybe it was because she was so different from the other girls I was used to hanging around with.
Mollie wouldn’t have been caught dead in a cheerleader uniform. She wasn’t a blonde bimbo who would blow me under the bleachers in the gym or let me shove my clumsy hands in her pants when we were making out by the lockers.
Mollie was different. Mollie wasn’t a bad girl. She didn’t drink or do drugs or sneak out at night. And she knew exactly what she wanted out of life. Maybe that’s what made me fall in love with her: her strength, determination, and independence. And those tits, oh man, those tits…
Mollie had her whole future mapped out and knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to be a teacher. She’d go to college, graduate, come back to Centerville, get a job at the middle school, find some nice guy and settle down and have a houseful of kids. For a long time, she thought that nice guy was me. Turned out I wasn’t such a nice guy after all.
She was smart and funny and beautiful, with her curly red hair and freckles across her nose. She never wore makeup because she didn’t need it. She kept her hair pulled back in a ponytail most of the time because she said it had a mind of its own.
She never wore short skirts or Daisy Dukes or halter tops or anything that showed off her body. I didn’t know just how rocking her body was until the first time I saw her naked; which was a few months after we started dating, the night of my last high school football game.
She gave me her virginity that night and I gave her my heart. When I close my eyes and I can still see her lying next to me, naked in the warm night air, spread out on a sleeping bag in the bed of my dad’s old truck.
Mollie had told me over and over that she intended to save herself for marriage, and I had every intention of honoring her wishes, I never pushed, but that night was special.
We were leaving our teenage lives behind and heading to college in the fall. We were adults now, or soon would be. It was time we started acting like it.
Mollie must have felt it, too, because she was the one who initiated the sex that night. We often parked by the lake and spread the sleeping bags out in the bed of my dad’s old truck. We’d lie back there for hours and make out till our lips gave out and stare up at the stars, making wishes and talking about our future.
That night, Mollie pulled back from kissing me and, without a word, sat up and pulled her t-shirt over her head, then unhooked her bra and let it slide down her arms.
I couldn’t believe her tits. I’d touched them, but I had never seen them. They were full, round, milky white in the moonlight with pink areolas and thick nipples.
She didn’t say a word. She just smiled at the shocked look on my face. She lay on her back and shimmied out of her jeans and panties, then told me to do the same. She didn’t have to tell me twice. I was out of my clothes before she could blink.
I lay down beside her and started to caress her breasts as I kissed her full lips. Our tongues meeting seemed to bring a new spark. I swear, I could smell ozone in the air.
I felt her hand go down my chest, across my stomach, and finally – FINALLY – her fingers closed around my cock, which was stiff as a board. She was a little clumsy at first, we both were, but soon she had her fingers sliding up and down, milking me as I sighed at her touch.
I squeezed her full right breast and moved my mouth to her nipples. I suckled at her right nipple as my hand slid down to her pussy. I held my breath when my fingers reached the thick pubic hair above her clit. I’d learn later that her pubes were the same shade of red as the hair on her head. Yes, the carpet does match the drapes...
I gently rubbed her clit with my thumb and she moaned in my ear. My fingers slid down to her pussy. She was soaking wet and hot to the touch. I gently slid a finger inside her and heard the breath catch in her throat.
Her hand was pumping me, quicker, quicker. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer. I looked into her eyes and asked, “Are we…”
“Yes,” she said, sighing through her dreamy smile. “Just be gentle.”
She never let go of me as I moved on top of her. She spread her legs wide and guided me into her opening. I slid in slowly, until I felt the resistance. Mollie bit her bottom lip and gave me a little nod.
When I pushed through the thin veil of tissue protecting her virginity, she gave a little cry, but then put her hands on my hips to set the pace, guiding me back and forth inside her.
Less than a minute later, we orgasmed for the first time together. It would be the first of many orgasms we’d share over the next two years.
Mollie gave me the greatest gift a girl could give a boy that night. There was pain, a little blood, and a few tears, but in the end, there was pleasure, so much pleasure.
When it was over, she kissed me deeply and simply said, “Love you.”
The taxi hitting a pothole jarred me from my memories of that night. In the fall of that year we both went off to the University of Alabama, her as an education major and me majoring in football. My degree path was in physical education, but I majored in football.
Mollie and I shared an apartment off campus, though our moms never knew that we were living together. They would have shit bricks had they known. Both our dads had died years before. I think that was another thing that helped bond us together.
We were blissfully happy for two years, then I left college at the end of my sophomore year to enter the NFL draft. The Atlanta Falcons picked me up in the tenth round.
We made love the night before I left for training camp in Atlanta. I rented us a room at the Airport Hilton so we could be together until the minute I stepped on the plane.
I broke up with her over the phone just a couple of months later. I know, it was a dick move, but at that time, I was a dick; full-fledged and proud of it.
That was two years ago now. I’m not so much of a dick anymore. I am just a pathetic asshole.
And to my regret, I haven’t even spoken to Mollie since.