April and I first met at UCLA during our sophomore year. Spring had arrived and it was a beautiful day, one of those days designed by nature herself to just sit out on the campus lawns and observe potential mates. That was exactly what I was doing when April came into my life and sat down beside me.
“Hi. I’m in your Sociology class. I’m April,” and she held out her hand after setting down a ratty, overly used, red backpack.
“I’m Cleo. Just call me C. J.” I candidly advised her as we shook hands. Adding, “I hate the name Cleo…”
“My own name, April, has a few drawbacks to it, too. There’s always some wise-ass calling me, Ape. It gets old, fast. I just ignore it.”
April was wearing a short white skirt and the way she settled down on the grass had left her naked crotch exposed. I’m nowhere near being a prude, but I did point out to her, “Your vagina is showing, April.”
“Oh. Damn it!” she exclaimed as she smoothed out her hem to cover herself, “Thanks, C. J.”
“No problem, April. I’m not wearing panties either. I love the sense of freedom and it makes me feel sexual. Doctor Spenser loves it when I sit in front of his desk.”
“What does he teach?”
“Oh, I almost took that class! Isn’t that Philosophy?”
“Yeah. It’s all about the golden rule and all that.”
Two boys walked past us just then and were animatedly talking about mathematics — at least I heard the word triangle; maybe they saw April’s crotch (or mine)? They were hot and I said so to April, “I’d like to pull out Blondie’s p*nis and measure it — just for fun.” April laughed loud and easy.
April is available at major ebookstores.