The BIG date

For our first major date, Kathleen and I settled on a movie followed by a trip to the local malt shop next door afterwards.  Since neither one of drove yet, it was agreed that my mom would take us there and her dad would pick us up.  On the appointed day, I spent approximately two-hundred hours getting ready.  The date was to be at six PM, so I began preparations around three-thirty immediately after getting off the school bus.  This was an acknowledged ‘special night’ because we were still in school and it was a Tuesday; a school night.  Kathleen and I walked home from the bus stop, me carrying her books (back then, our school busses had five designated stops in our nine-block community – they didn’t stop at every house on the route for us kids.  We were expected to meet at the stops for transportation to and from school).  By this time, other kids had stopped their hooting and hassling so we walked in peace.

As I was now fourteen, clumsy, and without a lot of social graces, I felt completely overwhelmed when Kathleen appeared at her front door for our date.  I can still remember exactly what she wore:  a blue summer skirt and a matching, button down the front, blouse with little flowers over her left breast, a thin blue band in her hair, and darker blue flats on her feet.  I have no clue what I wore, probably a fresh animal pelt that I had just skinned off a saber-toothed bunny.

With a whisper of nylons against a slip she slid into the back seat of our car.  I was socially conscious enough to at least hold the door for her and caught an altogether too short glimpse of shapely leg on her way in.  We arrived at the theatre unexpectedly soon because I was working up enough nerve to actually take her hand.  I was about ready to make my move when my mom announced that we were here.  What a drag.  “Once more around the block, Jeeves” wouldn’t have worked.

I sauntered up to the ticket booth, bought the tickets, and escorted her into the darkness.  I was, even at that early age, developing myopia, so to avoid having to wear completely dorky glasses which would absolutely guarantee I would never find a mate; we should have sat near the middle or front of the house.  She, on the other hand directed me to one of the last rows in the theatre.  This, according to local legend, was where the ‘make outs’ sat.  Did she know this?  I have to assume so because she smiled and pulled me into the very last row.  I began sweating (perspiring is for sissies, I was sweating) heavily as we sat down until the air conditioning kicked in and cooled me off.  I offered popcorn, which she took and began feeding kernels back to me from her hand.  When her fingertips touched my lips I lost track of time.  I stared into her hazel eyes and was gone.  No fourteen year-old should have to go through this but it seems that each and every one of us does.  Somehow we make it out the other side.  There is an absolute defining moment when you realize that girls can make you feel like an idiot and a knight at the same time.

The movie that night was called “Drum Beat” with Alan Ladd.  The usual cartoons and previews preceded it and, by the time the movie actually started, Kathleen and I had consumed our entire stock of popcorn.  I started to get up to buy more, but she held my hand tightly and told me it didn’t matter.  Didn’t Matter!  What heresy was this, no popcorn for a western; had she blown a fuse somewhere in her moviegoing circuits?

I was in the dark (literally) after she said that, but was illuminated immediately when she pulled my arm over the seat back and dropped it lightly over her shoulders.  Now, here was a situation that hadn’t been covered by the guy’s handbook – at least not the chapters I had been allowed to read yet – so what was I to do now?  Watch the movie, dummy, reverberated through my brain cell (note the use of the singular).  She shifted closer to me in her seat and reached for my other hand.  I was trapped!  Ahhhh-oOOo-gah!  Danger, danger!  Cue the shortness of breath, and clammy hands.  Focus my eyes and attempt, above all, to be cool. Here I was thirty years away from multitasking but multitasking I was.

A short time into the movie, she dropped her head onto my shoulder.  I didn’t feel it at first because my arm had gone completely dead from the neck down to my fingers on that side.  When attempting to shift slightly to allow blood flow again, she turned towards me at the same exact time I turned towards her.  Planned or not our lips met.  Oh, NO!  What the hell was I going to do now?  We’d have to get married or something I was sure.  My instinct was to bolt directly out of the seat and begin swinging from the chandeliers like an idiot.  In reality, I simply kissed back, like a knight.  Her lips were soft and inviting.  I could even taste the very light lipstick she was allowed to use for this date.  My heart began singing, my legs turned to rubber, and I completely lost the plot of the movie.

From time to time, we turned and kissed again.  Each time it was easier and more natural.  Once she even raised a hand and held my cheek as she kissed me.  I raised a hand myself, moved it over towards her chin, but somehow she moved slightly and I missed.  I ended up nudging her breast.  Not hard, but enough to establish firm tactile contact.  I snapped my hand back, narrowly missing her jaw, and tried stammering out an apology.  She said nothing at all, but reached over, grabbed my hand, pulled it over and placed it firmly on her breast again.  Not only that, but she held her hand over mine to keep it there.

I found at that moment that any male teenage palm contained millions of sensors capable of detecting heat, topography, clothing type, and other tactile data.  I knew, for instance, that she had very firm breasts, they were warmer than my hand, and that they were covered by her dress on top and a bra underneath it.  The term today would have been ‘steerable array of sensors’ as the actual antenna doesn’t move.

She sighed deeply (probably thinking “what is it with this guy, is he retarded?”), held my forearm, and caused my palm to circumnavigate her breast.  By that time, I was emboldened enough to try flying solo so I began using my fingertips to do some exploring.  First, I caused my left hand (the one over her shoulder), which was now completely awake, to rise up over her shoulder, head towards to her collarbone and dip down into the neck of her blouse.  The fit was a bit tight, but since the bones had disappeared from my hand it wasn’t a problem.  I slithered downwards until I encountered the top of her bra with the tip of one fang, er, finger.

Now, while this was taking place, predictable things had been happening to me:  my skin had gone very clammy, I began sweating again, and I had an erection.  Not just any old erection, but one that you had to look around to see the screen.  They say that a diamond is the hardest thing in nature, but I disagree.  A fourteen year-olds first major erection is harder.  Smaller ones in the privacy of your own bedroom cannot be compared to anything like what occurs in the presence of a well-rounded girl; and especially if you happen to have your fingers on her breast.  She appeared to be not aware of my plight though as her eyes steadily remained on the screen.

Directing your attention back to the bra (yoo hoo – over here), I soon discovered that there was enough room to slide my fingers between the cloth and her skin – which I did.  I soon had several inches of warm breast covered by my fingers.  Then she made a move I will never forget: she lifted her hand and unbuttoned the top three buttons on her blouse.  How this was done with one hand is a mystery but, then again, how they manage to take off a bra completely using one hand is another, but I was deeply grateful as my access was now unlimited.  As I moved deeper and deeper into her bra cup, she loosened a couple of straps that held the whole thing up.  For all practical intents and purposes she wasn’t wearing it any more.  My fingers dropped down until I encountered a very firm nipple.  I put my palm directly over it and stopped, holding it, and her breast, firmly in my hand.

She sighed again, and we watched the movie for a while.  My erection, however, had not abated one bit.  It was beginning to be a bit uncomfortable actually.  As quietly and with as little movement at all, I tried mightily to adjust it.  No matter how I pushed or prodded, I couldn’t find a comfortable position.  I gave up and tried to watch the movie.

As the movie came close to ending, and before the house lights came up, I reluctantly removed my hand from her breast and she closed up all the straps and buttons.  We turned towards each other and kissed deeply one more time.  Mercifully, my erection had subsided to a dull ache so that when the house lights did come up, I could stand without embarrassment (or doubling over in pain), and we exited the theatre.  Our next stop was the malt shop.

I have no clear recollection of anything that happened after that wonderful moment in the movie.  I replayed that petting scene in my head until the tape was worn out.  My one thought was that the sensation was wonderful and I was eager to learn more.



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2 Responses to “The BIG date”

  1. Davis Says:

    Ahh, the memories of the awkward teen years. Makes me appreciate more what my 17 year old is going through now

  2. tom1950 Says:

    Kathleen was known as a “forward” girl. Mostly tomboy, but changed rapidly in front of my eyes. This was THE defining moment in my young life. I can sympathize – and identify – with your 17-year old even after adding 50 more years to this date with Kathleen.

    Male or female go gently on them. They have a load of pressure already. My two children were girls and they both made it out the other end of the gauntlet just fine.

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