From: indexhtml@netscape.net   
      
   Story: Mindy	   
   	   
      
      
      
   My name is David Teller, but everyone calls me Dave.  I consider myself   
   very lucky the way my life has turned out, the love that my wife and   
   I share, the beautiful children we're raising together.  Let me start   
   at the beginning though.  I suppose I should describe myself.  I have   
   brown eyes and light brown hair that goes down to my collar, at least   
   it does these days.  Back then, when my story starts, it was cropped   
   pretty short, as my mother liked it.  I've always been on the slender   
   side, always a little too thin, but not overly so.  I was a very active   
   kid, and that translated to an adult who exercises quite a lot.  The   
   year was 1977, and the place was Bevel Heights, Montana.  A small,   
   sleepy little town whose best asset was a power plant and the county   
   hospital, and over half the town's population worked at one or the   
   other in some capacity.  My father was a tall, lanky fellow who delivered   
   the mail to everyone, for it was his job, he was a mailman.  Mom was a   
   nurse at the hospital, and a darn good one, too.   
      
   At the tender age of eight, I kissed a girl for the first time.  And not   
   just any girl, but Mindy Simms, my "girlfriend" and playmate.  Mindy lived   
   next door to me and had been my best friend since we were toddlers.  Mindy   
   was, at that age, a very pretty girl, or at least I thought so.  She was   
   shorter than me, but not by much, and she had long flame red hair that   
   was very fetching on her.  Her bright blue eyes and infectious smile could   
   warm the heart of anyone, alive or dead.  My parents and her parents had   
   known each other in high school apparently, and had moved next to each   
   other after college.  So Mindy and I had known each other since we had   
   became self-aware practically.  So here it was, the day of Mindy's birthday   
   and we'd gotten some private time alone together, which wasn't strange by   
   any means, since our parents, either hers or mine, were always on hand   
   somewhere nearby.  We were sitting in her room, playing a board game that   
   she had just gotten that day for her birthday, and I asked Mindy if she'd   
   gotten everything she wanted for her birthday and she blushed a little and   
   hung her head shyly, nodding her head no.   
      
   I asked her what else she wanted, and she told me that she wanted me to   
   kiss   
   her like our Dads kissed our Moms.  I blushed too, when she told me that   
   and then looked into her eyes.   
      
   "Really?" I asked her.   
      
   She bit her lower lip and nodded her head.  I don't know who was the more   
   nervous between us, her or me.  I screwed up my courage and pecked her on   
   the lips quickly, then sighing with relief, having gotten through it   
   without some dire catastrophe happening.   
      
   But she wasn't satisfied with that, not a chance.  "Not like that, a real   
   kiss!"   
      
   She leaned forward, her determination giving her courage, and pressed   
   her soft   
   lips against mine, kissing me gently.  That kiss lasted for what seemed   
   like   
   ages, and after it ended, and we pulled back from one another, I found a   
   completely new purpose in life.  I now understood why my Dad liked to kiss   
   Mom so much!!   
      
   Kissing Mindy was a blast!!   
      
   We must have kissed for almost an hour before we got hungry (it was almost   
   dinnertime by the time we stopped to look at the clock) and went into her   
   kitchen where our parents were and proceeded to eat dinner.  Over the next   
   few weeks, as spring blossomed around us, we stayed indoors completely   
   ignoring it, either in her room at her house, or in my room at my house   
   quietly kissing each other, while we "officially" playing board games.   
      
   Our parents never once questioned our sudden great interest in monopoly   
   when   
   we would usually be out playing with our friends outdoors.  Being only 8   
   years   
   old, thoughts of sex and even open-mouthed kissing were far from our young,   
   eager heads.  We were simply addicted to our long, tender, closed   
   mouthed kisses   
   that so thrilled us.   
      
   Alas, good things must come to an end, and so eventually summer came and   
   I had   
   to go to summer camp.  I tried to get out of it, not wanting to spend the   
   entire summer away from Mindy, but my parents were insistent, and they   
   packed   
   my bags and sent me off to camp on a hot day at the end of May.   
      
   I'll remember the day that I went off to camp for the rest of my life.   
   Mindy   
   was to start taking ballet lessons that summer and was very excited   
   about it,   
   even though she too didn't want me spending the whole summer away at camp.   
   The day was extremely hot, forcing me to wear the cut off pants that my   
   mother   
   so loved to see me wearing, yet I hated because I looked silly in the   
   things.   
   I remember going off to the bus station with my Mom, and Mindy being along   
   for the ride, and her sneaking me a quick kiss when Mom was talking to the   
   bus driver.   
      
   After the long bus ride that bored me to death, I finally arrived at camp,   
   and like the year before, it was exciting; very fun.  As the days flew   
   by, I   
   hardly ever thought of home or Mindy although I did on occasion.  I even   
   wrote a letter home like we always do as part of camp activities and I   
   included a letter sealed in its own little envelope just for Mindy that I   
   told my Mom and Dad to give to her, and only her, as it was private.  Only,   
   she did...oops sorry, almost got ahead of myself.   
      
   Camp was fun, because I got to do all sorts of neat things like hiking,   
   fishing,   
   and camping outdoors, that made the weeks fly by.  One day when we were   
   hiking,   
   I tripped and fell a little ways, scraping my knee pretty bad.  Now, getting   
   scrapes was certainly nothing new to me, as I was a pretty overactive   
   kid, but   
   this particular scrape burned itself in my memory not because of the little   
   bruise itself, but from the camp nurse that treated me that day.  It   
   happened   
   like this.  We had been hiking up a steep hill and I slipped on a loose rock   
   and suddenly found myself spiraling down the hillside.  Thankfully, one of   
   the councilors was nearby and caught me before I went too far, but not   
   before   
   nearly scraping the skin off my left knee.   
      
   The head councilor scooped me up in his arms and carried me back to camp and   
   to the nurse's office.  He left me there and after a few minutes, the nurse   
   came in and said hello, smiling at me.  My heart skipped a beat because she   
   was so pretty.  She looked just like one of those ladies on 'Charlie's   
   Angels'   
   on TV.  She had long blonde hair that was done up in a big pony tail and she   
   had enormous boobs.  I had never in my short life seen a lady with bigger   
   boobs, well except for my Aunt Ruthie, but she was big all over, so it   
   doesn't   
   really count.  Anyway, the nurse came over to me and inspected my   
   injured knee   
   and continued to wash it and rub some kind of ointment on it before putting   
   a bandage on it.  What got my attention was, the whole time she was bent   
   over   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
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