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From: "Nobby Nobbs" <nobby.nobbs@virgin.net>
Subject: {ASSM} RP {NobbyNobbs} "Finally Claire" [1/2] (mf, rom)
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This story was first posted in October 1998 by me under a diferent name. Since
then I has moved on with my life. I have moved in with my girlfriend, moved to
a new town, and got a new job. I feel that a change in pen name is appropriate.
**Disclaimer (Robert De Niro gangster voice)
What d'you means you ain't old enough to read this? If you ain't old enough,
then why you reading it? You stoopid fuck. Let me explain something to you.
Are you listening to me? I'm trying to explain something. In whatever country
you happen to be, there's a law telling you how old you have to be to read
something which contains graphic depiction's of sexual activities. You might be
old enough to do it, but that ain't necessarily old enough to read about it.
Besides, sex is nasty, horrible and dirty. If you go reading shit like this,
you'll end up like me, sad and depraved. So if you ain't old enough, go and do
something healthy, like playing "Quake".
What? Now you saying you are old enough, but that this sort of thing offends
you. Then stop reading now! Stoopid fuck. Go on! Fuck off. Let us pervs have
our fun. Go and read a 'mills and boon' novel or something.
Finally Claire Part 1 of 2
Revision 1.2
Original posted in October 1998
Comments can be sent to nobby.nobbs@virgin.net
**Special note
I'm English not American, but still, with the bombardment of American images
that we receive in this country on TV and in films, I get confused from time to
time. It's not my fault, blame the media!!! The name Nobby Nobbs comes from the
Discworld(R) series of books by Terry Prachett.
<------------------------------------------------------------------->
Finally Claire(1/2)
by Nobby Nobbs
(c) Copyright 1998 Nobby Nobbs
This story is kind of a fantasy. Although the main characters are real, only
part of this story is true. Up to a certain point the events did take place,
but after that, they only happened in my dreams. Wet dreams. I could tell you,
dear reader, at which point reality ends and fantasy starts, but that would be
no fun, and make me look even more sad than I already am. It's left to you to
decide where the change occurs.....
You see it's been five years since I left sixth form having completed my 'A
levels'. About time for a reunion you might think. Not a chance. I'm only in
contact with one person from my time in sixth form. It did get me thinking
however. Most of the people from that time of my life I don't particularly care
to see again, but there are one or two....
(Fuzzy Vision - cheap TV trick to indicate a memory coming on....)
(Screen wobbles.... wobble, wobble)
We'd been at the same school for five and a half years before I first noticed
Claire. She'd been on the opposite side of the timetable to me for the first
three years, and when we finally shared a couple of classes the lines of
friendship groups had already been drawn. If we exchanged two words with each
other that would have been a major conversation. When I started going out with
one of her friends, Claire became one of the many girls my new girlfriend was
talkative with, but basically just a face in the crowd. A cute face, but just
one of the crowd.
I heard all the rumors. All the talk of the huge number of guys that had asked
Claire out and been rejected. She said "NO" to everyone. Even the really
popular guys got knocked back by Claire. I heard the stories, but couldn't put
a face to the name.
I first took any real notice of Claire just after Christmas in the first year of
sixth form. I was seventeen, and had just broken up with my then girlfriend
(who is the one person I am still in contact with now, go figure), and I had
taken it really hard. I say 'just broken up with' but it had been three or four
months, more accurately I'd just about gotten over her. I was just about ready
to admit that maybe girls were worth all the hassle and hurt after all.
The school management had organized a group photo for the whole of years 12 and
13, and there we were in the school hall, all lined up for the shoot. The tall
ones stood at the back, the mid-size ones in the middle, and the short munchkins
sat on chairs at the front. The photographer announced that there was a problem
with the camera he had set up for the group shot, but the cameras for the
individual photos were working fine, so if the first row go and line up on the
far side of the hall he would be very appreciative.
The front row, which was made up of all girls, stood up in unison and trooped
over to the cameras in single file. The tallest guy in the class, stood on the
back row, called out "Hi, Ho." His intent was to signify the lack of height of
the girls, and it raised a chuckle from most of the assembled masses. I've
always been sensitive about my height, being a short arse myself, so while it
was funny at the time, I did sympathize with the poor girls now being ridiculed.
I knew most of them pretty well, but I noticed Claire more than any of the
others.
I recognized her as being in my maths class, and tried to place where she sat in
relation to me. Even though the maths class was small, only about 10 students,
there was a group of us in the same class for all subjects, and we tended to
stick together. Couple this with the fact that Claire also had her little group
of friends in the class, and she came across as quite shy and quiet, and it is
easy to see why I hadn't really taken much notice of her before. Looking at her
now I couldn't understand why I hadn't noticed her, she was gorgeous. She had
an indefinable quality, something I couldn't put my finger on.
Over the next few weeks I started to talk to Claire on occasions. I had the
perfect way in, we were both in the same maths class, and so had the same
homework to do.
Now phrases like, "Have you done you homework?" or "Could you answer question 2,
'cause I thought it was hard?" are not generally considered to be chat up lines.
Certainly no girl would guess you had an interest in them if that was how all
your conversations started. But that was how most of my conversations with
Claire did start. It would get us talking about work, and then lead to other
topics. We spent many hours in the library during free periods talking about
nonsense or, just sometimes, actually doing work together. Well I say doing
work together, it was mostly me doing the work and Claire saying things like,
"Oh yeah, I get it. What answer did you get again? That's what I got too."
She was basically copying my work, but I didn't mind. It pleased me just to
have the pleasure of being around this lovely creature, and she was happy to
have more time to spend on her art.
I must admit that what first drew me to her, drew most men to her, was her
looks. She had the silkiest black hair, which frequently changed style. Deep
blue eyes that she tried to hide either with make up or simply by not looking
directly at people. She was on the short side, and wasn't particularly well
endowed in the chest region either, but she had the cutest face, no, cute is not
the right word. She was just really pretty. And she carried herself in a way
that just added to her appeal. I can't think of any appropriate words to
describe it, maybe there aren't any. Her shyness definitely added to the whole
image. There was a gothic air of mystery about her. She acted closed off, hard
to reach, and there is just something about that that I, and many others, found
sexy. She also dressed really well. At our school the sixth form didn't have a
uniform, but an "agreed standard of dress" instead. This meant that we were
supposed to wear office type clothing , within the colour scheme of white, gray
and burgundy. The guys didn't have much choice in what to wear, gray suit,
white shirt and tie. The girls however could get away with most things. Skirts
were either burgundy or gray, and varied in length from "down by the ankles" to
"all up her arse". Claire's choice of style was understated. She wore a dark
gray, mid-length skirt, white blouse and dark gray cardigan. It doesn't sound
all that special, and some might wonder why I bothered with the description, but
you must understand that everything about Claire, when taken alone, seemed
ordinary, but she put them all together in a way..... I just can't do justice
to the aura she projected with words. She couldn't be described as anyone's
dream girl, but everyone who met her, wanted her.
Time wore on and I found myself becoming quite good friends with Claire. We
even began to flirt a little. She didn't think anything of it because I flirted
with most of the girls I knew anyway, but I was more attracted to Claire than to
any other women in my short life. The problem was that I was going through a
period of major self doubt. I had no confidence in myself, or my abilities.
And I certainly didn't consider myself attractive to the opposite sex. Sure I
flirted with just about all the girls, but it was an act, a way of defending
myself.
Claire and I began to find more things in common than just maths homework. We
played pool in the social area, talked about politics in the library. She began
to show something of herself to me, and I liked what I saw.
In free periods we knew where to find each other, at a table in the children's
corner of the library. We were hardly ever alone there, there was always
someone else doing work at the table or relaxing in the comfy chairs with a
newspaper. I would always try and be first to the library, and first to get
hold of the paper.
Like most people I hated for people to read over my shoulder, but I would always
share the paper with Claire if she wanted it. It meant that we had to get close
to each other, into each others "Space". If I was at the table she would come
up behind me, one hand on the back of my chair, the other on the table as she
leant over me. If I was on one of the low comfy chairs she would kneel down
beside me. Whichever it was she was as close to me as we ever got. I could
smell her, the heady mix of her own scent and the perfume she wore, and it drove
me wild. But all the time I kept a cool exterior, keeping my desire hidden.
About halfway through that first year of A levels the friendship groups began to
shift. I found myself pulled into a group that included Claire, and my
ex-girlfriend. She had got a new boyfriend, which made things awkward, but we
both got past that. (These days my ex, Tracey, is one of my best friends. I
don't know what I'd do without her sometimes.) As a group we began going out,
to the cinema and to nightclubs. Claire and I began to flirt more and more, and
it became obvious to some that I fancied her rotten. But with my confidence as
low as it was, I was convinced that there was no-way she could ever fancy me
back. I never even considered asking her out on a date alone. And as long as
we were going out in a group, nothing was going to happen between us.
So I contented myself with the relationship we had. Homework sessions in free
periods became regular, to the extent that we were joined by several others in
the class. We played badminton together in sports class, and formed quite a
deadly partnership. And of course we would still play pool. With each activity
there was some way that we found to flirt. If we arrived at school early to
play pool I would try and give her hints on the best shot, or step up close
behind her to help her line up the shot. While on the badminton court we would
slap each other on the behind after winning a good point, and homework was
filled with innuendo.
But I knew I couldn't ask her out. Several of the more popular guys in sixth
form asked Claire out, and she turned all of them down. Was there any reason
she wouldn't turn me down? After all, surely they were better catches than me,
and she wasn't interested in them. That was the way things stayed for the rest
of that first year.
Summer rolled around and I took a long holiday with the family. We cruised down
the Rhine in Germany, sampling all the Rhine valley had to offer, especially the
wine. I spent most of my time on deck sunning myself and reading all the Terry
Pratchett books I had missed. It was incredibly relaxing, and just what I
needed to get some confidence back. I went back to school a changed man.
That was good, because now we were the seniors in the sixth form. The top year
in the school, a role model for the rest. A new headmaster had taken over the
school, and there was a different atmosphere there. I also found my confidence
boosted by the news that there were a crop of girls lower down the school who
had the hots for me. So what if they were four years younger than me, at least
someone found me attractive.
It was about that time that the staff started to push us into applying for a
university place. They did everything they could to try and convince us. One
thing they did was organize a trip to the local university in Birmingham for one
of the open days. I only mention this because it was on the way back from this
trip that I first realized Claire might like me as much as I liked her.
The trip left early in the morning, and we spent the whole day on campus,
checking out the various departments and facilities. I spent most of the day
with a group of lads who were interested in doing the same degree as me, either
maths or physics. I didn't see Claire except for lunch, when most of our group
got back together in the Student Union building. By the time we got back on the
coach I was really tired, so found a seat on my own, and settled down to try and
get some kip. My sought after solitude lasted just a few minutes. I had sat on
the seats in front of Claire and her friend Melissa. No sooner had we left the
university campus than Claire was leaning forward through the tiny gap in the
seats to show me some postcards she had brought. They were arty prints,
apparently famous paintings, which I had never heard of. When I told her that
she seemed surprised, and came to sit in the seat next to me. She began to give
me loads of information on the pieces, and a brief life history of the artist.
Turns out she was studying him.
I wondered why she was telling me all this, after all the history of art is not
exactly something I'm in to. I was even more surprised when she stayed where
she was sat after she'd unloaded her knowledge onto me. I didn't mind, and
didn't complain. We sat in silence for a while until Claire got hold of an
Italian phrase book from a girl who had spent her day in the modern languages
department. We did the usual thing, looked up the dirty words and such, then
spent a good half an hour chatting each other up in first Italian then Spanish.
It was perhaps the best coach ride I had ever taken.
I knew then that she might be interested, and resolved to ask her on a date as
soon as the opportunity arose. However I had several opportunities and didn't
take them. I'd would get into the situation alone with her and then the words
would stick in my mouth. Self-doubt would overtake me, and demon inside would
tell me not to be silly, that she could never be interested in me, and I would
only make a fool of myself. I had to find a way to overcome this, to shout down
the demons. Things were made worse when Claire couldn't make it to my 18
birthday party in late October. Her own party was the following weekend, and
because she didn't want to work that weekend, she had to work during my party
instead. She apologized, and seemed very genuine. She promised me a birthday
kiss and dance at her party, but it still hurt that she hadn't come to mine.
At her party I did get a dance, and a brief kiss. It wasn't the last dance, as
I had hoped, she saved that for her big brother. It was a smooch to a slow song
though. "Bed of Roses" by Bon Jovi, Claire's favorite tune. The music was loud
and slow. Sensual and sexy. We clutched each other tightly, tightly enough to
leave her in no doubt that I was turned on. We swayed to the music in perfect
harmony, our bodies fitting together like jigsaw pieces. My hands rested in the
small of her back, I dare not go any lower, and hers were up around my neck.
Her head rested on my shoulder, and I leaned my head against hers. I was in
heaven. I wished that the music would never stop. After she had spent most of
the evening with her family, or dancing in a group, this was my time. Just
Claire and I, sensuously moving in time with one of the sexist songs ever
written. As it came to an end we kissed for the shortest time. A "Happy
Birthday" from both of us to each other.
The following week my optimism regarding Claire had turned to gloom. I was once
again convinced that she couldn't be interested in me. Suddenly one Wednesday
in early November I found myself alone with her in the library after school
finished. We were working on some extra maths problems, which was unusual
because normally I was halfway home as soon as the bell went. We had a test
coming up, and had decided to stop in the library, thinking I would get more
work done. When Claire found out she joined me. We worked for about an hour
before calling it a night and packing up. We walked home together until the
point in the journey came when we had to go in separate directions. We parted,
but before I had walked more than a few feet I had a sudden impulse. I turned
around and ran after Claire.
"Claire." I called, "Claire, Wait up."
She stopped and turned around to see why I was shouting her.
"What is it Mark?" she said.
"Urm, I was just wondering," I stammered over my words, unsure of what I was
going to say next. "...I... urm .... nothing. It doesn't matter."
I turned to walk away but she called me back. "No wait. What is it? What were
you going to say?"
"Nothing, it doesn't matter. I was just... It doesn't matter."
"Yes it does. What was it?"
"I was just gonna... I was gonna ask you if you were doing anything later.... I
thought you might want to... I really like you and I was gonna ask you to go
out with me okay. It was silly. You'll say no, I'll get embarrassed, so let's
just forget it okay."
"So then ask me." she said, I didn't notice the way her eyes had lit up.
"Why? So you can laugh in my face? Since I've known you you've been asked out
by all the best guys in school. All the really popular guys. And you've turned
them down. What chance has a nerd like me got. I mean look at you. Your the
sweetest, kindest, most caring girl in school, and by far the most beautiful.
What would you want with someone like me huh? So let's just forget I said
anything. I've said what I wanted to, I've made a fool of myself so now I'm
just going home and lock myself in my room."
It all came out, everything I felt. The floodgates opened and I couldn't stop
it. By the time I realized what I was saying, I'd already finished. I turned
to leave but Claire reached out a hand to stop me.
"Have you ever thought why I turned them all down?" she asked, but didn't give
me time to think of an answer. "It was because I was waiting for someone.
Someone special, someone I really liked, but seem to just want to flirt with me
and every other girl he knew."
It took a while for my feeble brain to assimilate this information, so I just
gazed at her blankly. She came closer to me, taking my hands in hers. I was
still looking at her as our faces came closer. She tilted her head slightly as
she approached. I reached out to her with my lips, and then we were kissing. A
long slow kiss. We started out with just our lips touching, holding hands, bags
dropped on the floor beside us. As I parted my lips slightly she parted hers in
response. We let go of each others hands and embraced, pulling ourselves close.
My tongue snaked its way into her mouth, and was met by hers. As our tongues
wrestled, my hands were on her hips, then in her hair, then back on her hips,
slowly moving between those two extremes, tracing the curve of her body. The
whole thing must have lasted less than a minute, but it felt like an eternity.
I didn't ever want it to stop. When it finally did we just stared at each
other, into each others eyes. She smiled at me, which lit up her eyes, and I
smiled back.
I walked her back to her house, arm in arm. We kissed again briefly when we got
there and agreed to met up later that night. After that I didn't walk home, I
floated, on a cloud of bliss.
We met up later and talked for nearly two hours. The next day at school the
social area was buzzing with the news. Evidently most people had been waiting
for this to happen. My friends all had a good word to say, Claire friends
likewise. People I hardly spoke to were coming up to me saying "It's about
time." Even some of the teachers commented. Finally we were together, and we
were happy. We spent as much time as possible together. We even applied to the
same universities and went to the open days together.
<------------------------------------------------------------------->
**Copyright Notice
This work is Copyright 1998 Mark G. Everitt. You may keep a copy in a personal
archive, electronic or otherwise, as long as it is for personal use only
(Personal being you and friends/family/partner, but not the general public).
Feel free to repost in the newsgroup you found it or any other appropriate
newsgroup, but I would appreciate an e-mail telling me you have reposted :->
This story should not, under any circumstances be used to make a profit by
anyone other than the author and copyright holder.
This story may or may not be based on actual events, real or otherwise. The
names of the people and places involved may or may not have been changed to
protect the innocent and/or guilty. It may or may not be based on material that
the author has or has not read, seen, or otherwise experienced, in the past,
present and/or future. Any similarity between actual people and/or places, real
or otherwise, is probably coincidental, but on the other hand....
----------------------------------------------------
"Of course, just because we've heard a spine-chilling, blood-curdling
scream of the sort to make your very marrow freeze in your bones doesn't
automatically mean there's anything wrong."
-- (Terry Pratchett, Soul Music)
----------------------------------------------------
nobby.nobbs@virgin.net
http://members.tripod.com/~e_space/index2.html
--
If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments
are their only payment. Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is
copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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