Kippie Chiquita and Lenora Block could have been twins, in a negative positive reversal kind of universe. Even though I didn’t meet Lenora for years after I first met Kippie.
One hot summer twilight as I was moping, or as a teen I identified it as hanging around, the park bench where I usually socialized. Alone or sometimes with friends at that age. As now, I did some of my best socializing on my own. It was the time of day when the public park had a shift change from younger children and their mothers, to sub tweens venturing out on their own, into the twilight of the teens.
Socializing.
Alone or in packs.
Across the park, through the playground jungle of slides, swings, and even the insidious teeter totter I spied a hint of yellow in motion. A fluid, hypnotic dancing motion of sorts. A very vibrant hint of yellow that moved through the park in my general direction. Almost like the last rays of sunshine of a day.
What began as a slight visual cue slowly blossomed into full tilt visual stimulus. What started as an object of yellow slowly revealed itself and morphed into a person. Not just any person, but a very lithe young woman. Prancing with pointed toes. Cantering with very light blonde curly permed hair bouncing about with an added spin or two for effect. I could barely make out the other person with her. Her accompaniment walked with that sulky directness that could only be identified as mopey.
Just like me.
Unlike me, female.
Unlike Kippie, very nondescript and working very hard at staying that way.
As Kippie danced her way onto my turf details began to take hold. She was wearing a very yellow and bright kind of pant suit halter top combo platter that clung tightly to her shapely legs, around her round behind, and a halter that flounced gingerly over her spare breasts. Clinging just enough to reveal the firm lusciousness which were the Telos of her tits without giving nary a clue to the fullness of those obscured delights. The halter top tied off around her slender neck with a simple hand tied bow that peeped out from under her flouncing blond bob.
Her skin was so white that she almost disappeared under the glare of her yellow jumpsuit giving her overall presence a glow as she flitted about her glum gray friend. This friend always seemed to accompany Kippie in our encounters to come, but she was so forgettable that I am unable to recall her having ever given her name. I can only refer to her as Not Lenora. Nope, indeed Lenora would not appear for quite a few years hence.
Once Kippie and company finished traversing the length of the park it only took moments for her to be chattering away gaily about this and that and the other thing in my ear. Sometimes roaming about my park bench, sometimes sitting either way to near, or way to far on the bench. She spoke of many things. Many things that sent my imagination reeling and put my heart racing. I would focus on her face which shimmered when she spoke. Her expressive eyes of cerulean blue twinkling as the sun set and the night cooled. Her lips had a dash of pink about them as did her cheeks. Either her natural coloring or the lightest touch of make -up were equally suspect. Who knew? Who cared? She spoke and I listened. She laughed and I smiled. She would rise up and again prance on the park path before me and I would follow her movements, not just with my eyes, but with my whole being.
All I recall is being totally enchanted by everything she said or did on that evening, yet unable to reasonably articulate or recount a thing she said because she communicated in a language that was only gilded with words. Her message to me was buried in the sub-carrier vibration that fill the space between all matter and glues all together despite the perceived void.
Her yellow halter hid from me the mysteries I sought. Her tight yellow pants, so shear as to allow her energy to breath in the summer heat while containing all the mystery my young mind could muster. Her blond hair crowned and poised upon her delicate featured face as she shared unrevealed wisdom of all that I could ever wish to know.
Her familiar lurked. Still afoot, though I knew not where. Nor cared. Kippie was this night. In the spotlight of the twilight she touched my cheek lightly. Her charge filled me with light, and she flitted on her merry way, all prance and canter and spin about her lumbering gray host as they left the park. My eyes followed, but I did not. I had not been invited to join on this night.
Kippie would own many a night that summer, but only if Kippie wanted to take possession of that time slot. I would find Kippie in the park at the strangest times. She would come out of nowhere. Almost seemed like she lived in the bushes. She claimed she went to the schools I went to, yet no one I knew knew her. She knew the names of many of my friends and teachers , yet none seemed to recall her. She seemed to know every nook and cranny of our neighborhood. It’s Folklore and rampant rumor of all the goings on in the neighborhood that made up my universe at this time were within her purview. I had no interest in the larger world. She shared my indifference of events abroad in the city other than our immediate location. My indifference inflated as my infatuation grew. I lived for our chance meetings in the park. I learned that the presence of Not Lenora was of no concern to me. She seemed to be there when Kippie wanted, and not when Kippie did not. I was starting to view my existence as such. Kippie. No Kippie . That was all the data I required.
I was beside myself whether lacking full Kippie Chiquita immersion or with her full intention.
It was my digital reality.
1= Kippie.
0= No Kippie.
Was this a healthy state of mind?
Highly unlikely.
Had I found my bliss?
Yes.
I recall spending hours making out on the park bench that summer. Her curvy bottom in her yellow pants wriggling on my lap while we french kissed. Our tongues danced a Tarantella as her yellow halter top loosened enough to tease me with glimpses of forbidden pink nipple. Taut and needy. Our tongues dared each other to submit. Our breath mingled. Or lips pressed. Teased. Introduced. Demurred. Interlocked. Coaxed. Cajoled each other into accepting our desires.
Then feasted.
Devoured each other.
Time passed.
slowly while she posed patiently in the middle of the room. My hand found her cheek gently and caressed down to her neck and slid to the back along her hairline. Because of the height difference she leaned her head back while I bent down to savor our first tentative kiss. Debbie had full pouty lips and I savored their softness as our lips gently pressed. I lingered slowly on her lower lip and realized that this was the first time we kissed. I let my tongue tease those lips as I went back for a second taste, and she parted her lips ever so slightly and exhaled sharply when I pulled back. I cupped her face in both hands. As I looked down into her large brown eyes and now slightly parted lips I felt a passion rise in me that I haven’t felt since my first exploratory teenage kisses long ago. Her lips parted into a smile and I pulled her body close savoring her ample charms as our tongues met and roved freely in each others mouths. I ran my hands over the sides of her glorious tits and found her waist while Debbie’s tongue fully entered my mouth and we teasingly played a game of lovers tag. Feeling her breasts pressed full against me I felt my cock begin to harden as it pressed against her belly. I knew it was time to move to one of the divans. When we finally broke the kiss she placed her tiny hands on my chest and said, “We have to do something about these clothes of yours.”