After The Parade

After the Parade

By Thomas Blaine
(thomasblaine@yahoo.com)

The fall of my sophomore year in high school was one of the hottest anyone around could remember, especially the first half of October. At a time of year when we could normally see our breath and had to bundle up against the cold, people still wore shorts and only brought a coat in case it rained in the afternoons.

Every year during the second week of October, my hometown has a celebration to commemorate it’s founding. It starts on Monday with a concert, and a fair and other events continue throughout the week. Everything is concluded with a large parade on the Saturday night after the week is over. It starts at seven o’clock and usually goes until ten or ten thirty. I played trumpet in band so I marched in the parade every year.

The parade was simple enough, but we always had a lot of fun. Normally, we were all thankful that our heavy band uniforms keep us warm in the cold weather during the parade. But just the opposite was true during that warm October because we had to wear the same heavy uniforms. The uniform consisted of black pants and jacket. An orange stripe (our school colour) ran down the side of the legs, and the closed-front jacket with a choker collar had eight gold buttons down the front. We wore black hats with an orange band around it. They were the flattop military style hats that people always see military officers in. Finally, we wore white gloves and shoes; the contrasting colours made the movements of our hands and feet appear more together.

Fortunately, we were granted a temporary reprieve and weren’t required to wear the long-sleeve band tee shirt under the jackets. I just wore a thin shirt. Before the parade, some of the parents handed out bottled water donated by a local grocery store and advised us to drink as much as we could to keep from getting dehydrated. (But we were told not drink so much water that we couldn’t make it through the parade without taking a bathroom break.) The same parents followed behind the band in case anyone passed out from heat exhaustion.

Finally, the parade began and I seemed to forget about the heat once we started marching. The headband inside the hat didn’t soak up as much sweat as I’d hoped and it felt like a river was running down either side of my face. In addition, I could feel the sweat running down my chest beneath the hot jacket and down the sides of my legs. The uniform would definitely need to be dry cleaned after the parade. Halfway through, I noticed the smell following the band, it reminded me of a locker room.

Fifty minutes later, we crossed the bridge that marked the end of the parade and filed off in two columns to walk back to the staging area. We had to keep our uniforms on and buttoned-up until we were dismissed, and I think that made everyone walk just a bit faster.

Back in the staging area, the band formed up in a circle so the band director could tell us what she thought of our performance. She congratulated us for putting up with the heat and then dismissed us. Most people had their jackets off before I could blink and eye and mine was quick to follow.

I didn’t get my driver’s license until my junior year so I still needed to ask around to find a ride home after band functions. Usually there were two or three people who were headed my way but, for some reason, only one person was headed north that night, Kristin Winters, a junior and a flautist. Kristin had given me a ride home a couple of times before and lived only a few blocks away from me.

"Just drop your shit in the trunk," Kristin said, tossing me her keys. "I need to get something back from Jake."

I assumed she was talking about one of the drummers. I walked over to her car, opened the trunk, and put my trumpet case, jacket, and hat and gloves inside. As Kristin walked past me, I tossed the keys up in the air and she caught them.

The parade closed most of the downtown streets so we had to take a longer route north. Kristin and I talked about the parade and the heat and anything else. As we talked, I glanced over at her a couple of times.

It must have been the way the light from the streetlights we passed reflected off her sweaty skin, but Kristin had an angelic look about her. I had noticed how attractive she was before, but there was something different about her that night. As she shook her long, blond hair out of ponytail, it fell down across her shoulders. She wore a tight, red sports bra beneath the suspenders of her uniform pants that made her round breasts stand out from the rest of her body. It might have just been the light, but I’ll swear I saw a slight bulge from the nipple of one breast stand out through the bra for an instant. I wondered what it would feel like to touch those smooth breasts, to push her bra off and play with her hard nipples.

And that’s when I noticed the foul smell in the car. I sniffed the air a couple of times and said, "we stink."

"I was sweating like a pig," Kristin said.

"So was I," I replied. "And I’m definitely need to take a shower when I get home." I was silent for a moment before slumping back in my seat and letting out leasing an audible sigh and swore under my breath.

"What is it?" Kristin asked?

"I can’t take a shower at home, the water pipe busted this afternoon and my dad can’t fix it until the hardware store opens on Monday."

"You can always come back to my place," Kristin offered. "My shower works fine."

"Thanks, I greatly appreciate that," I said. "But won’t your parents mind?"

Kristin shook her head. "They’re out of town this weekend."

"So you’re staying at home by yourself?" I asked.

Kristin nodded and then looked over at me, noticing the big, sarcastic smile across my face.

"Yea right," she exclaimed. "You can just wipe that look off your face right now."

We both laughed and Kristin turned a corner to drive to her house.

When we got back to Kristin’s house, I left my stuff in her car and followed her inside. It was a relatively large house, larger than mine anyway, with hardwood floors and French windows. The house was old, but it must have been restored a few years earlier because the fine woodwork appeared to be in excellent condition.

We entered through the kitchen in the back and, as we passed the refrigerator, I noticed a lengthy list or rules her parents had posted there. The fifth one read "No boys" (underlined twice).

Kristin pointed to the sheet and said with a devious smile, "I guess I’m breaking the ‘No boys’ rule?"

We both laughed.

"Come on, I’ll show you where the shower is."

I followed Kristin around the corner and upstairs. She walked a few steps in front of me, placing her derrière right at my eye level. Even through the trousers of her band uniform, it looked firm.

The bathroom was across the hall from her bedroom and right next to the master bedroom. She led me in and turned on the lights.

"There are towels in here," she said, opening a drawer and pulling out a folded towel. "An you can hang your uniform on the back of the door."

She grabbed a bottle of shampoo from the cupboard. "This is my shampoo, but you can use it. There’s already soap in the shower. Just leave the shampoo out, I’ll take my shower later tonight."

"Come on," I said with a smile. "That’s wasting water. Haven’t you heard the saying: ‘Save water, shower with a friend?’ I though you were suppose to be an environmentalist."

Kristin rolled her eyes and handed me the shampoo.

"My love of the environment goes only so far," she said behind a sarcastic smile.

She laughed as she turned and walked towards the door. As I turned to put the shampoo bottle in the shower, I heard the door close. I was trying to subtly hint at something sexual, just to see if I could get somewhere with her. I wouldn’t mind having sex with Kristin – I’d fantasized about it often enough – but I honestly didn’t expect to get anywhere. Either I was so subtle that she didn’t notice, or she did figure out what I was hinting at and didn’t want to do anything. I had lost what appeared to be my last chance to do anything with Kristin that night, so I gave up and began undressing to take my shower.

Suddenly, I became aware that someone else was in the room, someone standing behind me. Two thin arms reached around my body from behind and feminine hands pressed tight against my chest. I felt warm breath against my neck and the sound of a pair of lips by to my ear.

"I guess you appealed to the environmentalist in me," Kristin whispered. "I think I’ll join you after all."

I turned around and wrapped my arms around Kristin, holding her body close to mine. The warmth of her body radiated into mine, and her heart pounded inside her chest.

"The things we do for the environment," I joked softly. "But are you sure you want to do this?"

She answered with a deep, French kiss. I took it for a "yes."

After a few moments with our lips locked in a kiss, I turned her around so we both faced the same direction and slid my hands beneath her arms and across her breasts. Kristin stretched her arms up over my head and wrapped them around the back of my neck, arching her neck back onto my shoulder. I kissed her neck and tenderly caressed her breasts through the red sports bra. Slowly, I slipped the suspenders to her uniform trousers from her shoulders and unzipped the fly. With a gentle push of my hands across her hips, the trouser fell into a black heap on the floor around her feet.

We stood facing the mirror and our eyes joined through the reflection. I slid one had beneath her bra and moved the other one down her abdomen and slid it onto her white panties. The moisture created by the moment was seeping through the silk. Slowly, I pushed my hand into her panties and across her shaved genitals. With gentle movements of my fingers, I played with her clitoris and pinched the lips of her labia together.

A rush of pleasure surged through her body as I pushed one finger into her vagina. Kristin closed her eyes and leaned her head back on my shoulder again. I pushed my finger deeper and deeper inside her and pressed the fingertip along the roof of her vagina until I found an area that was slightly rougher than the rest, her g-spot. Kristin gasped as I gently stroked the g-spot with one finger inside of her and slid another around her clitoris. The muscles of her warm, wet vagina contracted around my finger in an erratic rhythm and her body shivered and began to sway, as if riding a wave of erotic pleasure.

After a few minutes of stimulating her like this, I pulled my finger out and she turned around, placing her hands on my chest.

"I never told anyone this," she whispered. "But I’ve been watching you since we first met. I wanted to be with for a long time." Her hands pushed up my shirt and her finger ran across my bare chest. "I’ve wanted to feel your body on top of me, to feel your fingers inside of me." She pulled off my trousers and slid her fingers into my briefs to touch my erect penis. "To feel this inside of me."

Slowly, she ran her long fingernails along the shaft and around the tip. Now it was my turn to gasp in pleasure as she wrapped her fingers around my penis and began to stroke, slowly at first, but then harder and faster as the seconds passed. My hands naturally fell onto her breasts and continued to caress them.

A few seconds later, the rest of our clothes lay in a pile on the bathroom floor and Kristin and I stood under the warm water in her steam-filled shower. I held her tight against me and we kissed deeply. With her large breasts pressed tightly against my chest, my erect penis pressed against her abdomen.

I pressed Kristin tight against the tile wall and kissed a trail down her neck and onto her bare breasts. My tongue traced circles around her hard nipples and she gasped with pleasure as I gently nursed on them. Slowly, I kissed a trail down across her abdomen to her genitals.

"Oh, God!" she exclaimed as my lips closed around her clitoris. She laced her fingers behind my head and pulled my face deeper into her vagina. My tongue slid between her labia and around her clitoris. Kristin raised on leg and put it over my shoulder, opening her body up more to my tongue.

The first time I gave oral sex to a girl, the taste disgusted me. However, the amount of pleasure it gave her made me do it again. It is an acquired taste and I don’t mind it anymore, plus cunnilingus is a quick way to bring her closer to orgasm. But I don’t do it unless she’s shaved; I don’t like picking the hair out of my mouth.

I stopped after a few minutes, knowing she was close to orgasm, and stood up, holding her close to me again. We swayed back and forth and Kristin pressed her hips tight against my erect penis. She took it in her hands and ran the tip of it over the entrance to her vagina several times, pressing it into her slightly more with each stroke. I lowered my hips slightly to get a better angle and slowly pushed inside of her. The feeling of a warm, moist vagina closing tightly around an erect penis is so pleasurable that few words can describe it. Kristin obviously felt the same sensation I was and closed her eyes.

"Oh yes!" she gasped as I pushed in a little further. "Oh God yes!"

Slowly, ever so slowly, I pushed deeper and deeper into her. Kristin’s breathing became heavy and I could tell her heart rate had greatly increased. I wanted to slide into her all the way, to thrust deeper and deeper until I climaxed in her, and she climaxed around me.

But, at that moment, a warning light went off somewhere in the back of my brain. I tried to ignore it at first, but the warning became more intense and I couldn’t suppress it. Kristin and I weren’t married, what would happen if I got her pregnant. I was only a sophomore in high school. I was only sixteen-years-old. She was only a year older than I was. If I got her pregnant, it would ruin both of our futures. Apparently, the same warning light went off in the back of Kristin’s mind.

"Wait," Kristin whispered. "We can’t do this without protection, we don’t have a condom."

"I know," I said, pulling out. "We’d regret it later. But there are other thing’s we can do."

Kristin’s eyes met mine and I could see the question in her gaze. I placed my hands on her hips and turned her around so we faced the same way. I covered her breasts with both hands and then slid them down her body to her genitals, roughly pressing them against her clitoris and sending another wave of sexual pleasure through her body. Either consciously or unconsciously, Kristin leaned forward at the hips and pressed her rear tight against my penis. While one hand caressed her breasts and the other hand manually stimulated her genitals, I pushed my penis between her buttocks and pressed the tip against her anus.

Kristin gasped as I pushed through and into her body, but this gasp was a mixture of pain and pleasure. Her anal canal was tight around my erect penis, much tighter than her vagina; it was a sensation that she increased by repeatedly contracting her muscles. It was an involuntary action and she gasped with every one. I slowly pushed deeper into her until my penis was all the way inside. As I thrust into her body from behind, my fingers slid into her vagina in the front and brought her back to the verge of an orgasm by rubbing her g-spot and clitoris.

"Oh, God!" Kristin gasped again.

The orgasm built deep inside of me, but I fought it back as I rubbed Kristin’s G-spot to bring her closer to orgasm. I knew the longer I fought the orgasm back, the more pleasurable it would be when it finally climaxed. The closer we got the more Kristin and I lost awareness of everything around us except for each other. Even the hot water falling onto our naked bodies was a distant, detached sensation. The urge to ejaculate was powerful and it eventually overcame me. I couldn’t hold it back anymore and the warm, thick semen shot deep up her anal canal.

"Oh my God!" Kristin gasped again; it was a gasp bordering on a scream. She was near orgasm and I rubbed her g-spot harder until she climaxed onto my hand.

We held each other for a few moments before I slowly pulled my penis out of her body, causing her to gasp again. She turned around to face me and I saw the redness in her cheeks and heard her heavy breaths over the falling water. She placed her hand against my cheek and I leaned my head to one side to kiss it.

"I’ve never done that before," she whispered.

I smiled and replied, "Neither have I. But it felt good."

"It was incredible," Kristin said.

We held each other tightly and kissed for several more minutes. Finally, as the glow of the orgasm subsided, we set about doing what we originally intended to do in the shower: clean our selves. That in itself was an erotic experience and the shower lasted another hour until we ran out of hot water.

Kristin and I soon began dating and eventually ended up getting married (happily married for almost fifteen years, I might add). Throughout the years we’ve known each other, Kristin and I have had sex more times than either of us can recall, and each and every one of them was a memorable event than the last.

But neither of us will ever forget what happened that night after the parade.

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to living persons or actual events is entirely coincidental. This story may not be redistributed without permission from the author.