Born Too Late

Inspired by the song "Born Too Late," 14-year-old Nicole passes a love note to her brother's 20-year-old friend. When he responds positively, things accelerate.

Author's Note: This story first appeared on this website early in 2025, but it was removed when the rules changed. Since those rules have since been liberalized, I have made the necessary tweaks so that it now complies with them.

Part One

One of my high school buddies came from a large family. Barry was the second of seven children in the Forrester clan, while I had just one sibling. Therefore, whenever I, Vince Greenwood, dropped by Barry’s house, it was typically chaotic by my standards. I really didn’t pay too much attention to his siblings, but one was apparently paying quite a bit of attention to me.

Barry wasn’t much of a scholar; he saw no point in attending college. Accordingly, Barry quickly entered the working world shortly after he graduated high school. He was blessed with good people skills which helped him do quite well. By the time he was 20, Barry was the assistant manager at a large and popular pizza and pasta restaurant in my hometown.

I, meanwhile, pursued higher education, enrolling in a broadcast journalism program. Barry and I still kept in touch—which was not too difficult because his house was located just two blocks from mine. We’d get together for various outings, watch sports on TV, and basically continue to do the things we did in high school to amuse ourselves.

Whenever I visited Barry’s home, I could be guaranteed that three or four of his younger siblings would be around. It escaped my attention that there was a constant: Nicole, the youngest of Barry’s three sisters, was almost always present.

Nicole was six years my junior. She was a cute girl who had a head of straight, dirty blonde hair that was typically shoulder-length, if not longer sometimes. Nicole was one of those girls who had what I like to call “muted beauty.” If you glanced at her quickly, you noticed nothing particularly special about her. However, if you looked at her long enough you would consider her to be quite appealing. Over the years, she was just another member of the Forrester clan. I was always polite with all the Forrester kids, and Nicole was just another one of them to me.

Part Two

I always had a love for music from the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s. For the most part, their lyrics were upbeat and hopeful. Barry’s parents had a large record collection. When I showed more than an average interest in it, they graciously invited me over for a night of listening to music. As Mr. Forrester accurately stated, “Vince, the simple pleasures in life are always the best.”

Apparently, Mr. and Mrs. Forrester regularly relaxed with the stereo playing their sizable collection of albums and 45-rpm disks. That night they invited me to be their “guest deejay” and select a bunch of songs. I did it in a chronological fashion. I picked a string of hits from the 1950s that I particularly liked. I recall that “Where the Boys Are,” “Hello, Mary Lou,” and “Put Your Head on My Shoulder,” were three of them. Another was “Born Too Late,” a 1958 song by a largely forgotten girl group from Ohio called The Poni-Tails. Barry’s mother was especially pleased by that selection as that song was a favorite of hers, too. It’s about a young girl, desperately in love with an unnamed older man. She laments that he will be elusive because of their age difference.

Anyone in the family was invited to enjoy the music and encouraged to sing along. Even though I can’t sing worth a darn, I always participate in such activities. There’s something magical about singing among friends that has always appealed to me. Apart from Barry, the only other Forrester kid in the room was 14-year-old Nicole. Singing along to oldies turned out to be great fun, so I asked if I could come again sometime. I was told by the Forresters that I was more than welcome to attend another one of their record-playing nights anytime I pleased.

Two days after the singalong, I dropped by the Forrester house on a Saturday afternoon to talk to Barry about something that I have long forgotten. However, I’ve never forgotten what happened as I was leaving. Nicole came running out of the front door carrying an envelope. “Vince!” she called out as I was about to get into my car. “Here’s something for you! Open it up when you get home!”

I had no idea what might be in Nicole’s envelope or even why she had given me a note. It wasn’t my birthday or anything like that. I just said, “Okay, Nicole, I’ll do that. Thanks!”

When I got home a few minutes later, I promptly opened the envelope. Inside it were two pieces of paper. On the first page was a large heart. Inside the heart was written “Nicole & Vince”. Underneath it, printed in block letters, was “I LOVE YOU!” On the second page, Nicole had hand-written the lyrics of “Born Too Late”. I got the message. Boy, did I get the message.

I was floored. I had no idea that Nicole had any feelings towards me. Of course, her letter was a great boost to my male ego. The fact that it was written by a 14-year-old girl was irrelevant. I sat down and stared at the papers for the longest time. I needed to respond to Nicole somehow, to gently agree with the sad sentiments of “Born Too Late”. I grabbed a notepad and got as far as “Dear Nicole: That was a wonderful letter you gave me, but…” I stopped. “No!” I thought to myself. “Why not make my friend’s little sister a very happy girl for one night?”

I got back into my car and drove the two blocks to the Forresters’ house. Mrs. Forrester was surprised to see me so soon after I had just departed.

“Did you forget something, Vince?” she asked me.

I smiled and said, “No, I’m here to ask your daughter for a dinner date.”

Mrs. Forrester was perplexed. “Christine isn’t here right now, Vince,” she replied. “Besides, her steady boyfriend might not like the idea.” Christine was Barry’s 17-year-old sister. Barry also had an older sister named Carol. She was 22, married, lived 30 miles away, and had an infant child.

“Wrong daughter!” I pronounced. I handed Mrs. Forrester the letter that Nicole had written to me. “I’m here to show my appreciation to the little angel who wrote this unbelievably sweet letter to me. How can I not respond to it favorably?”

Upon reading it, Mrs. Forrester sighed. She noted, “This certainly explains why Nicole played ‘Born Too Late’ about a dozen times on the stereo yesterday. She wanted to get the lyrics right.” She continued, “This is so like Nicole! She acts on impulses without thinking things through. I’m sorry, Vince. You can ignore the letter.” She handed it back to me.

“Ignore it? No way!” I replied. “This is extremely flattering to me. That took a lot of courage for Nicole to open her heart to me this way. I want to thank her by treating her to dinner at Barry’s restaurant tonight. Knowing full well what the answer would be, I paused for a moment and smiled before adding, “Do you think she’ll say yes if I ask her?”

Mrs. Forrester just laughed at the whole situation before responding, “You’re a sweetheart, Vince. Do you know that? You’re a real sweetheart. I think Nicole is upstairs in her bedroom.”

“Please summon her,” I asked.

Mrs. Forrester went to the foot of the stairs and shouted, “Nicole! Come down here, please. You have a gentleman caller.”

“I have a what?” Nicole yelled back, obviously unfamiliar with the old-fashioned term.

“There’s a very fine young man here who wants to ask you something. Come see who it is.”

Nicole took the first three or four steps with a normal gait, but when she saw me, she started taking them two at a time. She had trouble coming to a halt and almost ran into me.

“Over to you, Vince!” Mrs. Forrester said, shaking her head at the whole situation.

I pulled the letter out of my pocket and said, “Nicole Forrester, you sweet girl, that was the nicest letter I’ve ever gotten in my entire life. There’s not even a close second.”

Nicole began to blush.

I then asked in a most gentlemanly fashion, “Miss Forrester, it would give me great pleasure to give you a kiss. May I?”

Nicole’s face lit up. She quickly said, “Yeah, sure, Vince!” I bent down and gave her a tepid peck on her left cheek as if I were her brother.

To my delight and her mother’s horror, Nicole said, “No…not that way!” Then she embraced me and gave me an on-the-lips smackeroo. I liked it!

“Nicole, control yourself!” her mother scolded her. She looked at me and said, “See, I told you Nicole acts on impulses way too much.”

Nicole was happily oblivious to being chastised. With her arms still wrapped around me, she got me back on track. “What did you want to ask me, Vince?”

“Unless a beautiful young lady like you already has another date for tonight,” I said, “may I take you out to dinner at the restaurant where your brother works? It would be a great thrill for me to have the prettiest girl in the city as my dining companion.”

Before Nicole answered in the affirmative, her mother rolled her eyes and editorialized, “Good Lord, Vince! You’re just oozing charm today, aren’t you?”

Nicole looked at her mom and asked, “Can I?”

“Sure,” she said with a dismissive wave of her left hand. “I think you two knuckleheads deserve each other.”

Nicole officially said yes, kissed me again on the lips—much to her mother’s consternation—and started to head upstairs. “Hey,” she suddenly realized, “I’ve never been on a date before. I wonder what I should wear.”

“Wear whatever you like,” I told her. “I’ll pick you up at 5 p.m.”

Nicole was out of earshot when I told her mother, “I’ll take her out for some ice cream afterwards, too. She’s a doll. I want to make sure she has a memorable night. When is our curfew, Mrs. Forrester?”

“You can keep her if you want, Vince,” she kidded. “Nicole is becoming more and more of a nuisance every day.”

“I just might do that,” I said with a smile.

Part Three

When I arrived at the Forrester house at 4:55 p.m., I saw Nicole’s face staring out the living room window. She was obviously waiting eagerly for me. I did my part by sprucing up my wardrobe from its usual casual Saturday level. I wore an expensive sweater with dress pants and leather shoes. I even dabbed on a few drops of cologne to smell my best.

Mr. Forrester answered the door. He comically put on an exaggerated act about being a concerned father who was meeting his daughter’s date for the first time. “Good evening, young man,” he began. “I understand you are my daughter’s date for this evening. I don’t want any monkey business tonight—unless you think it’s absolutely necessary.” Then he laughed. A moment later he put a hand on my shoulder and added, “Seriously, Vince, what you are doing tonight is very classy.”

I just shrugged and said nothing. Then I saw Nicole in the distance. I was pleasantly surprised by the beautiful girl I beheld. She was clad in a lovely pale-blue dress that actually highlighted the burgeoning womanly charms she possessed. Nicole wore white knee socks and Mary Jane shoes. She looked like she was going to a formal occasion somewhere.

“My, you look beautiful in that pretty dress, Nicole,” I commented with complete honesty. “Is it new?”

“Not quite,” she said. “I’ve worn it just once before, when I attended a wedding a couple of months ago.” Then she added, “I only wear it on special occasions—or for a special person.”

Those last five words touched my heart. This girl really was a living doll.

When we arrived at the pizza restaurant, there was a cute surprise waiting for us. This was an eatery that generally did not take reservations except for large parties. However, Colin, the employee who seated people, said to me, “Ah, the Greenwood and Forrester couple has arrived! We’ve been expecting you! I have prepared a romantic table for two for you.” He walked us to the secluded area that only had tables for two diners. They were obviously seated there for the privacy and ambiance. Colin pulled a book of matches from his pocket and lit the candle on the table.

“This is great!” Nicole said, clearly approving the romantic touch of candlelight dining.

“Thank you, Miss Forrester,” said Colin. “We hope it meets with your satisfaction.” Then he added, “Mr. Greenwood, I have a note for you.”

He handed me an envelope. It was a missive from Barry, who obviously had been apprised of the situation. It read, “Vince: This is a supremely nice thing you’re doing for my little sister, the junior coquet. It’s way beyond the call of duty as my friend. Have an appetizer on me. If Nicole gets too flirty, you have my permission to give her the spanking she deserves.”

Nicole said, “That’s from Barry; I recognize his handwriting. What does it say?”

I replied, “He says I can give you a spanking if you get out of line. That’s not going to happen, Nicole. Before the night is over, I might kiss you—in fact, I will kiss you—but not spank you.”

Nicole promptly got out of her seat and kissed me on the lips for the third time. This girl was something else!

We enjoyed cheese-covered garlic bread (courtesy of Barry) and had a three-topping pizza along with an icy pitcher of root beer. The smile never left Nicole’s pretty face throughout the whole meal. My good deed was being fully appreciated.

In a moment of seriousness, I decided to talk to Nicole about the letter she had given to me. I said, “You know, Nicole, honey, there is a lot of truth in the lyrics of ‘Born Too Late’, but what it doesn’t account for is a situation like this one. I’m 20 and you’re 14. Obviously, we can’t run off tonight and elope. But in seven years, our getting married is entirely possible. You’d be 21 and I’d be 27. There’s nothing wrong with that at all. So, let’s make a secret deal: If you want to marry me in seven years, just give me a call—and I’ll be at your house in five minutes. What do you say?”

Nicole said nothing. Instead, she got out of her chair again and planted kiss number four on my lips. I took that as a definite yes.

I told Nicole to ignore the restaurant’s dessert menu because we were going to a nearby ice cream parlor to cap the night’s dining. It occurred to me that Nicole was perhaps overdressed for such a venue. “Oh, maybe that’s not such a good idea,” I said. “I’d hate to see you get an ice cream stain on your beautiful dress, sweetheart.”

She looked me straight in the eyes and replied just barely above a whisper, “That’s not a problem, Vince. I could always just take it off.” Nicole gave me a sexy smile. I was surprised how arousing her comment was. I could feel my pulse rate increase.

“Your brother and mother are right, Nicole,” I replied with a chuckle. “You really are quite a flirty girl.”

When we went to the ice cream parlor, it was a busy place. There were no parking spaces available, so I parked my car in the empty lot of a hardware store some 50 yards away. It was closed for the day. Nicole made the enigmatic comment, “That was a good place to park, Vince.” I was starting to get a picture of the dessert I might be getting from my 14-year-old date.

We had to wait for a while to get a table, but it was worth it. I had a delicious hot fudge sundae. Nicole chose strawberry. When we had finished eating, Nicole took me by the hand as we headed back to my car, which was cute.

To make conversation, I asked her, “Did you like tonight’s date, sweetheart?”

“So far,” she replied. “It’s not over yet, though.”

When we got to my car, the hardware store lot seemed even more desolate than before because the crowd at the ice cream parlor was noticeably shrinking.

Like a gentleman, I opened the passenger side door. (My car had just two doors.) Nicole did not get in the front seat. Instead, she slid across the bench back seat immediately behind where the driver sits. She got to the point quickly. “I didn’t spill anything on my dress, Vince, but I can’t wait seven years. I’m taking off my dress right now!”

In a great show of physical dexterity, she slid out of her dress very easily—and very sexily. She pulled her shoes off next. She was lying there wearing just her socks, a pair of frilly pink panties, and a small brassiere that she was starting to undo.

She motioned me with a wave of her left hand to join her. She said longingly, “Please come here, Vince. I just have to have a fuck with you!”

In retrospect, I’m not surprised that I succumbed to Nicole’s youthful feminine charms, but I was surprised that I didn’t even consider that what Nicole was offering me was forbidden fruit according to the law. I remember saying, “Absolutely, Nicole. I’ll get undressed out here first.”

Within half a minute my fancy clothes were tossed onto the front seat while I leapt into the back seat to enjoy my friend’s 14-year-old sister in the most intimate way possible. By that time Nicole was completely nude—and eagerly waiting for me to do something about it.

The confined space of a car’s back seat—even the bench variety—doesn’t generally allow for a lot of sexual maneuvering, so I spent most of the time on top of my flirtatious companion. I caressed her small boobs. They had large areolas. Nicole’s nipples became hard very quickly. I licked and sucked on them with great pleasure. I began to finger her nearly hairless vagina—which was a magnificent thing—sliding my middle finger inside it while I sucked on Nicole’s succulent breasts.

Nicole had her hands free, so she began fondling my scrotum with both of them. I groaned with pleasure, so Nicole took that as a sign she was doing well at sex—and she was. We managed to position ourselves so I could lick her virgin pussy, which was a treat for both of us, apparently. Nicole’s vagina became very moist very fast.

I decided to give Nicole the passionate kisses she had given me all day, but I was 20 and I couldn’t control my ejaculation forever. “I’m going to fuck you now, Nicole!” I warned her.

“Please do, Vince!” she acquiesced.

I mounted her as best I could, considering the small confines. I set my phallus in the appropriate place and shoved it in as slowly as possible as not to hurt Nicole and to prolong my pleasure. Eventually, it entered her fully and I began to move it in and out of my youthful lover’s pussy with a nice rhythm. Nicole was groaning softly as my manhood probed her most private part. I had absolutely no intention of pulling out. I let out one enormous groan and fired my load. I could feel rope after rope of my hot jism fill Nicole’s vagina. The feeling was sensational!

“You are a great fuck, Nicole,” I said between long breaths. “Thank you so much for sharing your tight pussy with me. It was terrific. Honestly, I’d like to fuck you every day of the week.”

“So, I must have been good at sex?” Nicole asked me in all seriousness.

“Superb,” I said. Then I added, “Nicole, you weren’t born too late at all!”