This discussion about missionaries [which I can’t even fucking find now] and the guy who answered the door nekkid reminded me of something that happened long ago in Junior High.  In Idaho Junior High = grades 7, 8, and 9. High school was 10, 11, and 12.

I was a smart, fat little toad in gradeschool and 7th grade. Then a miracle happened in the summer between 7th and 8th grade. I grew 4 inches, developed a waist and hips and even some pert little boobs. It was amazing. Puberty hit hard and fast for me, so when I went back to school in the fall, it was a whole new world.

Boys were suddenly very important and I went from being a shy fat little egghead to a, oh hell, I don’t know what I became. But I talked to boys, and flirted with them, led them around by their collective cocks (with a special penchant for teasing the Mormon boys) and was VERY forward and did all manner of things that “good” girls would not do. It was heady and invigorating.

I had a couple of friends, one of whom was as horny as I was all the time. We were shameless in our pursuit of power through pussy. I haven’t decided yet if I can tell some of the stories. It would be rather Cringe-making, I think.

Anyway, back to the nekkid missionary story and the point to this windy post: The guy who answered the door was in a band called the Dreamchildren. The Dreamchildren were the very zenith of cool around the area where I went to school.

The lead singer was named Cliff. He had long blonde wavy hair and was quite beautiful to my lusty little teenaged and hormonally saturated eyeballs. I wanted him.
One afternoon the Dreamchildren gave a free concert at the YWCA which was directly across the street from the high school and not far from the Junior high. I went over with friends, and we sat on the floor in the front row, no doubt reeking of girly pheromones. Cliff sang Pretty Woman, and at one point, bent down to me, lifted me by the hand and then kissed me on the lips during the song. It was surreal. I nearly passed out from the thrill. And it made for a vivid memory.

I married the drummer later but that’s a whole different story.