This is a true story. Slightly exaggerated. But ultimately true. Names have been changed to protect identities.

Ok. So my name is Dale. I was 20 at the time this all happened. I’m about 5’11 give or take an inch. I’s quite thin at only 140 lbs. I have blonde hair, some tell me strawberry blonde but I don’t see it. Sometimes it changes to a light brown or maybe a darkish blonde during the summer thanks to the sun. I also have grey eyes. They change frequently with my moods however and usually have a greenish tint. At the time I had been at my job working at a dollar store about thirty minutes from home. I lived with my aunt at the time, in an apartment above her garage. It was spacious with about three- or four-hundred square feet or so of floor space. It had a bathroom and three closets, all of which you practically had to crawl into.
I set the living area next to the staircase. There was a couch and a futon. My 32 inch flat screen piece of shit tv. My Xbox 360. My desk sat next to that with my laptop. A fridge and microwave claimed the corner next to my desk. Behind one of the couches I had a small dining table with four chairs. Behind that was my bed. I also had two racks for my clothes and a dresser near my bed. There were rugs on the floor. The whole room had a pleasant dark/light brown color scheme. It was home.
Now at my job there were quite a few occasions where employees would switch around stores. Sometimes, although most frequently, I would be transferred out. Within six months I had gained a bit of fame in our district. I found out that I was called “Miracle Worker” behind my back. When someone needed something done, I was sent. There were also many permanent transfers between stores when people moved. Around the end of May, we received a transfer employee. Her name was Mary Carson.
She was beautiful. Although she had her flaws like anyone else. Her most striking feature was her height. She was only four foot ten. She had beautiful brown hair and deep brown eyes. I tried not to look in them too often lest I get lost. She also had really crooked teeth. Not like really bad but very noticeable. She had very nice curves. Her breasts were a 32C and her ass was perfect. So perfect she all too often caught me staring. She had a very cute southern accent and a very…different attitude.
I have always been shy. Quiet and reserved, I always enjoyed watching other people rather than interacting with them. She was different. Somewhere I managed to find the courage to ask for her number. And to my surprise she gave it to me. That started us texting and talking daily, almost all day.
She was very abrasive, not afraid to say what was on her mind. And somehow, that made me want her more. After about a week of talking, I told her my aunt was cooking dinner. I asked her if I could bring her some after she got off work. She agreed. I was ecstatic. I showered and shaved. I put on my best clothes; some semi-tight jeans, a white and green plaid button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and my green converse. (If it isn’t clear yet, green is my favorite color. It is also, in my opinion, the color that looks best on me.)
My aunt was excited for me as well. She cooked chicken alfredo (the best I’ve ever had). She even made a picnic basket. Bowls of alfredo, bread, glasses, sodas, and silverware. All in a true picnic basket. She wished me luck as I left.
I could barely keep myself from speeding to the store she was at to wait for her. I arrived at 9:15. She came out shortly after and smiled at me. I returned the smile and asked her where she wanted to have our picnic. She led me to Wal-Mart. We parked far back in the parking lot and sat on the trunk of my car to eat. We talked while we ate, saying nothing important. When we set the bowls aside, she scooted closer to me and looked me in the eyes. I could only keep the gaze for a second, looking away and blushing. She laughed.
She nudged me and I looked back at her, avoiding eye contact as best I could. “Why do you avoid looking me in the eye?”
I shifted my gaze to her eyes. “Because I lose control. And I don’t like being out of control of myself. My emotions. My instincts. My…urges.”
I blushed again and looked away.
“Virgin,” she said.
“What?” I asked, looking back at her.
“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”
I looked away and shifted my body away from her slightly.