Thursday – The Lady's Dressing Room
I only had two school days left on The Program. I couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. On the whole, I'd have to say that it was really pretty good. I realized that when I was getting ready for school and something was missing. It was that familiar feeling of dread I'd had getting ready for school every morning since moving to Hastings.
I had a good time the night before. Was getting laid what had put me in a good mood? That was pretty shallow. It was also pretty accurate. Actually, that wasn't really all of it. I'd made some friends. Pam wasn't a girlfriend, but on the other hand, it was pretty nice I had someone I could have an occasional bout of steamy sex with. I also enjoyed talking with Linda.
It was odd that I hadn't been able to make connections with any guys in Kansas. Karen was a good friend of mine even before we'd started going out, but most of my closest friends back in Amherst were guys. I suppose Frank Richards was a friend, but there was such an age difference, we weren't really close friends. It was more like we shared an obsession.
Not everything in the week had gone well. There was the fiasco with Amy. That was still a raw wound that hadn't scabbed over yet. I suppose I couldn't expect everything to go my way. I was in a really good mood, anyway. I'd lost the edge of my anger at Amy. True, she'd treated me in a pretty crappy manner, but I'd bet she was off-center from breaking up with John. I still felt hurt, and maybe some regret or wistfulness, but I thought I'd be able to deal with it.
When Shelly was ready, we drove off to school. There was a cold rain sleeting down on us and freezing on the roads. That wasn't nearly enough to get me down today. Ending my long dry spell would keep me warm and dry through the foul Kansas storm.
We passed several accidents on the way to school, but I drove much slower than usual and with extra caution. All in all, it was a pretty uneventful morning. I undressed and made my way to homeroom.
English Lit. was the first class of the day that I had with Jake. While I desperately wanted to talk to him and apologize, I thought it was probably best to wait until after English. He didn't seem to have any problems getting up in front of class and reading the most outrageous poetry, but if the talk didn't go well he might be upset. I wanted him to read his poetry selection with his usual poise. That was another admirable trait of his. I could deliver reports to the entire class, but I had to force myself to do it. I always hated it and couldn't wait until I could sit down with the rest of the herd. Jake, however, seemed actually comfortable standing in front of the class reading pretty suggestive poetry, and doing it buck naked.
That was something else I'd been thinking about quite a bit: Jake buck naked. I'd wait to talk to him, but if he asked for relief, I was going to enthusiastically volunteer. If he picked me, I'd do my best to give him the world-class blow job that I'd been fantasizing about. On the other hand, if he didn't pick me, I'd be sure to smile with encouragement. One of the things that bothered me most was the loony way I'd flipped out. The terrible thought in the back of my mind was that maybe that crazed, possessive bitch was the real me, and I was just kidding myself about who I really was. I mean, who really thinks of themselves as a crazed, possessive bitch? If I really was one, I'd have found some way to rationalize it, right?
Mr. Larsen asked Jake and Linda if they'd like relief. They both said no. Then he called Jake up to begin the day's poetry recital.
“My poem for today is a moldy oldie,” Jake began. “Jonathan Swift wrote this way back in 1732. This is The Lady's Dressing Room.”
hours, (and who can do it less in?)
By haughty Celia spent in dressing;
The goddess from her chamber issues,
Arrayed in lace, brocades, and tissues.
who found the room was void
And Betty otherwise employed,
Stole in and took a strict survey
Of all the litter as it lay;
Whereof, to make the matter clear,
An inventory follows here.
first a dirty smock appeared,
Beneath the arm-pits well besmeared.
Strephon, the rogue, displayed it wide
And turned it round on every side.
On such a point few words are best,
And Strephon bids us guess the rest;
And swears how damnably the men lie
In calling Celia sweet and cleanly.
Now listen while he next produces
The various combs for various uses,
Filled up with dirt so closely fixt,
No brush could force a way betwixt.
A paste of composition rare,
Sweat, dandruff, powder, lead and hair;
A forehead cloth with oil upon’t
To smooth the wrinkles on her front.
Here alum flower to stop the steams
Exhaled from sour unsavory streams;
There night-gloves made of Tripsy’s hide,
Bequeath’d by Tripsy when she died,
With puppy water, beauty’s help,
Distilled from Tripsy’s darling whelp;
Here gallypots and vials placed,
Some filled with washes, some with paste,
Some with pomatum, paints and slops,
And ointments good for scabby chops.
Hard by a filthy basin stands,
Fouled with the scouring of her hands;
The basin takes whatever comes,
The scrapings of her teeth and gums,
A nasty compound of all hues,
For here she spits, and here she spews.
But oh! it turned poor Strephon’s bowels,
When he beheld and smelt the towels,
Begummed, besmattered, and beslimed
With dirt, and sweat, and ear-wax grimed.
No object Strephon’s eye escapes:
Here petticoats in frowzy heaps;
Nor be the handkerchiefs forgot
All varnished o’er with snuff and snot.
The stockings, why should I expose,
Stained with the marks of stinking toes;
Or greasy coifs and pinners reeking,
Which Celia slept at least a week in?
A pair of tweezers next he found
To pluck her brows in arches round,
Or hairs that sink the forehead low,
Or on her chin like bristles grow.
virtues we must not let pass,
Of Celia’s magnifying glass.
When frighted Strephon cast his eye on’t
It shewed the visage of a giant.
A glass that can to sight disclose
The smallest worm in Celia’s nose,
And faithfully direct her nail
To squeeze it out from head to tail;
(For catch it nicely by the head,
It must come out alive or dead.)
Strephon will you tell the rest?
And must you needs describe the chest?
That careless wench! no creature warn her
To move it out from yonder corner;
But leave it standing full in sight
For you to exercise your spite.
In vain, the workman shewed his wit
With rings and hinges counterfeit
To make it seem in this disguise
A cabinet to vulgar eyes;
For Strephon ventured to look in,
Resolved to go through thick and thin;
He lifts the lid, there needs no more:
He smelt it all the time before.
As from within Pandora’s box,
When Epimetheus oped the locks,
A sudden universal crew
Of humane evils upwards flew,
He still was comforted to find
That Hope at last remained behind;
So Strephon lifting up the lid
To view what in the chest was hid,
The vapours flew from out the vent.
But Strephon cautious never meant
The bottom of the pan to grope
And foul his hands in search of Hope.
O never may such vile machine
Be once in Celia’s chamber seen!
O may she better learn to keep
“Those secrets of the hoary deep”!
mutton cutlets, prime of meat,
Which, though with art you salt and beat
As laws of cookery require
And toast them at the clearest fire,
If from adown the hopeful chops
The fat upon the cinder drops,
To stinking smoke it turns the flame
Poisoning the flesh from whence it came;
And up exhales a greasy stench
For which you curse the careless wench;
So things which must not be exprest,
When plumpt into the reeking chest,
Send up an excremental smell
To taint the parts from whence they fell,
The petticoats and gown perfume,
Which waft a stink round every room.
finishing his grand survey,
Disgusted Strephon stole away
Repeating in his amorous fits,
Oh! Celia, Celia, Celia shits!
vengeance, Goddess never sleeping,
Soon punished Strephon for his peeping:
His foul Imagination links
Each dame he see with all her stinks;
And, if unsavory odors fly,
Conceives a lady standing by.
All women his description fits,
And both ideas jump like wits
By vicious fancy coupled fast,
And still appearing in contrast.
pity wretched Strephon blind
To all the charms of female kind.
Should I the Queen of Love refuse
Because she rose from stinking ooze?
To him that looks behind the scene
Satira’s but some pocky queen.
When Celia in her glory shows,
If Strephon would but stop his nose
(Who now so impiously blasphemes
Her ointments, daubs, and paints and creams,
Her washes, slops, and every clout
With which he makes so foul a rout),
He soon would learn to think like me
And bless his ravished sight to see
Such order from confusion sprung,
Such gaudy tulips raised from dung.
Ouch! I'd noticed that Jake picked poetry that either meant something to him or reflected something he was thinking about. Was he referring to me? Was he that angry with me? Did he think of me as fake and superficial? I hardly wore any makeup. A little eye-liner and, occasionally, some perfume. Was he thinking of Pam? She usually wore more makeup than I did, but she was pretty good. She made it look like she didn't wear any. Maybe he was cynical about girls, in general?
“Yikes!” Linda exclaimed. “That's pretty harsh. Are women really like that?”
“Well, you've got to remember that Swift wrote that in 1732,” Jake replied. “Personal hygiene was much harder to come by. You're sitting there completely naked. You can't hide anything. Celia was considered a goddess, but she was trying to make herself up to look like you actually do.”
“Yeah,” I said, “so we don't paint ourselves up to that extent, but isn't it the same thing – just a matter of degree?”
“Sort of,” Jake agreed, “but remember, I've seen you naked too...”
“More than just seen her naked,” someone snickered in the back of class. I ignored it.
“... and you're not making yourself up to be anything that you're really not. You really are the goddess that Celia was trying for.” There were a few more snickers from the back of the room.
That was an amazingly nice thing for Jake to say. He was probably still angry at me, but he managed to be sweet, anyway. Maybe there was some hope?
“Maybe it's deeper than purely physical,” I continued. “We pretend to be other than what we are to make ourselves more attractive. When you look behind our facade, we're cheap and ugly. That was a good line: we're just 'gaudy tulips raised from dung.'”
“I see your point,” said Jake, “but I think you're only seeing one side of it. We're all pretty disgusting, men and women – that's just the human condition. We sweat, we smell, we fart, we belch; we're hairy and nasty. That's just the way we are. It's not a crime to make yourself presentable. The person with the problem is Strephon. He can't bring himself to look beyond the superficial. He bought into Celia's facade, so when he finds out that it is a facade, he can't see that while, yeah, we're all wallowing in dung, Celia really is a tulip.”
“Still, it sounded like she was pretty gross, dude,” John said. That was a first. He'd hardly said anything in English Lit. all year.
“It's not gross,” replied Jake, “it's pure, raw sex. It's far more real than all that true-love-and-yearning crap in most of the poetry we've been listening to.”
“Watch the language, Mr. Bergman,” Mr. Larsen said.
“I dunno,” Don Marquis chimed in, “I'm with John, she sounds nasty, not sexy.”
“You've had sex, right?” Jake said. “It's not clean and antiseptic. There are viscous fluids, sweat, and odors. It's nothing like clean. That's what real sex is – it's earthy and primal. If you don't end up covered in your partner's juices, you're just not doing it right.”
That got to me. The image of Jake, when I had grabbed fistfuls of his hair, his face covered with my juices, flooded past all the barriers in my mind. I could even smell him. I was wet. If I could have gotten away with it, I would have jumped him right there.
“Ever noticed that another word for 'sexy' is 'dirty?'” Jake continued. “Haven't you ever wanted to do something really dirty? Do it in the mud, or covered in pudding, or whipped cream, or honey. Get nasty and rut like animals. What you're doing is completely destroying the sterile facade and coupling directly with the person you desire.”
I could tell I was flushed. I looked around the room and saw I wasn't the only one. Several girls in the class were staring intently at Jake. Pam had a particularly predatory look. There was going to be a fight to service Jake in Civics class the next period. If he didn't ask for relief, we'd gang together and rape him.
Beth walked with me to Civics class. “That was another interesting episode of Jake's Dirty Poetry Show. I'm going to miss it next week,” she said.
“Yeah,” I said, “I got a bit hot and bothered by it. How about you?”
Beth looked uncomfortable. She loved talking about intimate details of her friends' encounters, but she had trouble facing her own needs. She didn't really have any experience with guys. It was easier for her to bury herself in schoolwork and books.
After a moment, Beth said, “Yeah, I guess. I kind of got a little horny also.” That was like a breakthrough, for her to admit that.
“Good for you,” I chuckled. “Now you've just got to find someone to help you take care of that.”
“Like that's going to happen,” she lamented.
“Anyway, speaking of Jake,” Beth continued, “I had a chat with Pam before first period Spanish. She certainly had a nice evening last night.”
“She went out with Jake last night,” I said.
“Yes, but how did you know that?” asked Beth.
“Well, I couldn't apologize to Jake in school yesterday afternoon, so after dinner, I drove over to his house. His sister told me he was on a date.”
“You didn't!” Beth said. “You're, like, stalking him now.”
I had to laugh. “It's nothing like that. I'm not following him around. I just stopped at his house to talk to him – that's hardly stalking. You know, Beth, I think one reason you're so intimidated by guys is that you put them in a completely different category. They're just people. You wouldn't be scandalized if I stopped by your house to chat, would you?”
Beth shook her head no.
“Anyway, I asked Shelly not to tell Jake I stopped by, so he shouldn't feel like I'm overly persistent. So, you were saying, Pam had a good time with Jake?”
“A very good time, I was led to understand,” Beth said. “Pam said that Jake is 'dreamy.' That's an exact quote: 'dreamy.'”
“'Dreamy?' She sounds like they went to a 1950s Sock Hop, or something.” I said. “Anyway, good for them. Someone should be jumping his bones.”
“You don't fool me, Amy Nyland,” said Beth. “You want to be the one doing the jumping.”
I noticed a few disappointed faces when Jake declined relief in Civics. Linda, however, said that she would like some assistance. Did anyone want to service a naked, gorgeous, horny cheerleader? Of course. Every guy's hand was raised, and the air stunk of testosterone as they each imagined what they'd like to do. I was intrigued that a couple of girl's hands went up, also. Showing much better taste than she'd had on Tuesday, Linda picked Jake.
As Jake was walking up, Pam caught my eye and winked at me. I knew exactly what she meant. We had a new member of the club. We'd have to show her our secret handshake after her initiation.
Jake put his head next to Linda's ear and whispered something. I couldn't hear what he said, but Linda laughed and slapped him playfully on the shoulder. Jake grabbed the hand that hit him and kissed her lightly on the inside of her wrist. He kissed up her arm to her neck. Linda closed her eyes and sighed. Jake worked his way down to her breasts and Linda moaned, spread her legs, and slid down in the chair a bit.
Jake knelt between her legs and started the main event. I didn't have a front row seat this time. I had to judge what went on by Linda's reactions.
Linda closed her eyes and grabbed Jake's head. She gasped, moaned, and made soft cries. Her chest heaved as she panted. She arched her back, threw back her head, and shoved her pelvis into Jake's face as hard as she could. I noticed that Linda was completely covered in sweat. Jake's hands were busy moving in and out of her. Linda brought her hands to her breasts and started twisting her nipples.
After a few moments, Linda started bucking her hips and shaking her head from side to side as her moans rose in pitch and volume.
I leaned over to Beth and whispered, “Was I anywhere near as loud as that when Jake went down on me in class?”
Beth chuckled and said, “Oh yeah. You made Linda's orgasm seem tame. People in the classrooms next door said they heard you.”
I turned beet red, but I was sure nobody noticed since Linda was still heaving from her orgasm.
I was also as wet and horny as I'd ever been.
When I walked into the cafeteria I noticed Beth Robertson was walking a bit ahead of me, also headed toward the lunch line. I wondered if Beth had accepted my apology for embarrassing her earlier in the week. She was very shy, so it was hard to tell if she was pissed at me. She was a good friend of Amy's; perhaps she was pissed at me because Amy was.
Then Beth made two innocent mistakes that were probably pretty traumatic for her. I mentioned she was shy? She appeared to be especially shy around guys. Beth seemed to be looking around the cafeteria for someone and she bumped into Tom Williams. No big deal, right? Well, Tom was the junior class guy who was on The Program for the week, so when she bumped into him he happened to be buck naked.
Beth's hand grazed Tom's dick and she put her hand against his chest. It was all innocent and accidental, but being inches away from a nude guy and touching his cock seemed to be terminally embarrassing to Beth. She gasped, “Oh! Sorry!” and turned fire-engine red.
The second, and far more serious, mistake was that Beth did this right next to the football player/cheerleader lunch table. They sensed weakness like sharks sense blood in the water, and they moved in to attack. While the table was laughing at Beth's embarrassment, Dirk Wayland and Greg Trumbul got up and walked over to her.
Greg moved closer and closer to Beth, stepping inside her personal space until he was inches away from her. Beth was fairly petite, so Greg, who was a six-foot, 250 lb linebacker, towered over her. Beth looked down at the floor, hoping he would go away.
“Hey Beth, you like to rub up against guys?” Greg said. “Maybe you'd like it better if I was naked?”
“Hah!” Sherri Fenton, another cheerleader said, “You wouldn't know what to do with a naked guy, would you, Beth?”
“Yeah,” Cindy chimed in, “when you touched Tom's cock, that was probably the most you've ever done with a guy.”
“You should take your chance with Greg now,” Sherri teased, “nobody else is going to want to do anything with a mouse like you.”
Beth was still staring at the floor. She was too intimidated to move away from Greg. She just stood there, shaking and hovering on the verge of tears.
I'd had enough of that crap. I walked over to them and gently pulled Beth back away from Greg. I stepped in front of her.
“What the hell do you think you're doing?” I roared. “You're twice as big as she is, you asshole. And the rest of you... “
“I wasn't bothering her,” Greg said, “She was rubbing dicks. I was just standing in line so I'm next to have my cock rubbed.”
“I think you misunderstood,” I said. “If she says you're thick, Greg, she's not talking about your cock.”
“Oh look,” Dirk said, “It's the naked defender. Where's your cape? Oh yeah, you don't have one because you're naked.”
What a lame idiot he was. Apparently some of the cheerleaders didn't think so, because a number of them snickered as if he'd said something witty. I decided to paraphrase something Winston Churchill said.
“At the end of the day,” I said, “I'm putting my clothes back on and I won't be naked anymore. You, on the other hand, will still be a moron.
“You guys are pathetic. There couldn't be more contrast here. Beth is sweet, cute, and probably the smartest person in this school. She'll leave South Bumfuck High behind on an academic scholarship to Harvard or Yale. And look at you... you've spent your entire high school years climbing the social ladder until you're at the peak. This is it, probably the pinnacle of your pathetic lives and what do you do? You spend it picking on anyone who, unlike you, is getting out of this podunk town.”
“You don't know shit, you stupid faggot,” John said. “Me and some of the other guys, after collage ball, we're going straight to the pros.”
“Our football team finished fifth, in a weak division,” I said. “The only way you fuckups are getting anywhere near college football is if you clean the locker room.”
“You dickless asshole,” Cindy spat. “You better have fun while you're on The Program because after the way you've acted this week, the only action you're going to get is from your right hand. You've pissed off the entire cheerleader squad. You're not going to get anything from a frigid bitch like Beth. You've even managed to piss off that stupid cunt, Amy.”
“Your being pissed off doesn't bother me a bit,” I replied. “And, as I showed you yesterday when you begged me to fuck you, I'd rather get nothing from Beth, or be rejected by Amy, than have sex with you.”
“You don't have to worry about Amy,” said a soft voice behind me.
I whirled around. It was Amy.
Sometimes I can be a real idiot. I was so angry at those assholes, but when I turned and saw Amy, it just drained out of me. I was embarrassed that she saw me get mad. And the last thing I wanted was to get into another argument with Amy in front of those other assholes. I could usually think of some flip comment for cover. Not then. Words just failed me. So, I just left. I didn't literally run away, but I fled the scene, nevertheless.
I started to apologize, in front of everyone, and Jake just took off. He gave me an astonished look, like a deer in the headlights, and then fled. I felt a pang of anguish that I must have really hurt him. I also felt frustrated, and like I was a complete fool. Cindy was smirking at me. She couldn't do a math problem to save her life, but if I was even a little friendly with a guy, she turned into a goddamned Sherlock Holmes. I didn't care. All I wanted was to apologize and fix things with Jake.
I went through the lunch line with Beth, and dragged her over to a table by ourselves.
Beth was pretty shaky over her run-in. It was yet another occasion where Jake proved what a great guy he was. We rehashed it a few times and thought up a few wickedly cruel lines Beth could have said that would have crushed those assholes, if she'd thought of them at the time, and had the guts to say them. I thought they weren't any better than the things Jake had actually said.
Then we talked about ways I could apologize to Jake. I had to do it. I couldn't think of anything else. I wasn't going to be able to function properly until I got that out of the way. After a while I settled on an idea.
“Beth,” I said, “you're with me on this, right?”
“Amy, I'm not sure this is such a good idea,” she whined.
“Beth, you promised.”
“Oh all right,” Beth agreed, but she didn't look happy at all.
“Remember,” I said, “we've got to get to him before any other girls. We've got to get our Reasonable Request in first.”
“Our Reasonable Request?”
“Okay, mine. But if you get to him first, and I think you probably will, then it's you who's going to have to ask.”
“What makes you think it'll be me?” Beth whined some more.
“Because I have a plan.”
“I hate plans,” Beth said. Uh-oh, this was starting to fall into a familiar pattern.
“This one is simple.”
“You always say that,” Beth said. “Is this one going to get me grounded?”
“Of course not,” I said.
“Sure. We've already satisfied your curiosity about whether cow tipping is an urban myth,” Beth said rather petulantly. “Is this plan going to get me injured?”
“Beth...” I began.
“'Cause you know that sometimes does happen. Like your great idea about mud sliding in the ravine.”
“You know you had fun.”
“Until I sprained my ankle. I also know I was on crutches for a week, and limping for a month.”
“Yeah,” I asserted, “but it also got you out of gym for two months. And Dennis Walker carried your books a few times, too. You liked that a whole lot. Anyway, you know this is nothing like that. Why do you always have to rehash everything?”
“He carried my books a couple of times,” Beth said, “until Cindy picked him up, then dumped him the following week. So why do you always choose me for your great adventures? Why not pick Cindy, your best friend?”
“She's certainly not my best friend, or any other kind of friend, anymore,” I replied. “She'd never do anything exciting that might cause her to break a nail. You know she was only interested in guys and parties. And, Beth, I'm sorry I hung out with her so much. You two never could do anything together, so I kept having to choose between you and her, and I'm ashamed I usually chose her. I'm really sorry if it bothered you.”
“I was mostly envious,” Beth said. “I knew why. With her, you could meet guys, go out on dates, and party. I wanted to go, but I was always too scared.”
“Oh Beth,” I sighed. “We've got to get you over that.”
“I know this is important to you. Tell me about your plan.”
“It's simple,” I said. “We'll catch Jake the way they used to bag big game.”
“You want to dig a big pit in the gym and cover it over with leaves?” Beth asked sarcastically.
I gave her a don't-be-a-smartass look. “No. They used one group making loud noises to drive the game toward another group of hunters: I make the loud noises, you're the hunter. He's avoiding me, so I walk toward him. If he goes the other way, which I'm afraid he probably will, he'll walk right into you. We win either way.”
“You do know he's not stupid, don't you?” Beth asked.
“That's one of the things I like so much about him,” I replied. “But, you know, he is kind of dumb about some things. I just want to apologize to him. If he wasn't acting so stupid, he'd realize that and stop avoiding me.”
“I don't think you just want to apologize to him,” Beth smirked. “I think your 'bagging big game' analogy was pretty accurate.”
“Beth...” I said with exasperation.
“Okay, okay,” she said, “I'll help.”
Oh man, I had to crap! The Program was inherently embarrassing; that's its basic nature, part of it's infernal design. Perhaps the most embarrassing part, however, was when I had to answer a basic call of nature in the girls' bathroom. There was simply no way to sit in a stall in a bathroom full of girls and not be extremely conscious of the noises I made while excreting. There was no way to make it silent. The only thing that had occurred to me, and I admit that I spent a fair amount of time trying to figure out a way to make this less embarrassing for me, was to do something like take an air horn into the stall with me and blast away to conceal my own noises. That was just too ludicrous, even for me.
I'd realized, however, that no matter how embarrassing it was for me, it was tremendously more embarrassing for the girls in the bathroom. If, while I was going to the bathroom, a girl made a small fraction of the bowel moving noises I made, she would be completely mortified when she opened the door and saw me. Even if the girl in the stall next to me made the daintiest of tinkles, if I said “good morning” as she left the stall, she'd be unable to make eye contact with me for days.
Once I made this fundamental observation, I was King Of All Girls' Bathrooms. I could enter the bathroom, head held high, and my subjects would bow to my dominion. Girls who entered the bathroom when I did would be unable to use the facilities, even if all they needed to do was to change a tampon. The girls fixing their makeup in the mirror would hastily finish and leave. They would flee in fear of my royal displeasure.
If I made the noisiest of flatulent bowel movements, no matter. A girl who left a stall before I did, simply thought I was one of them and left me to take my anonymous shit. If we left the sanctuary of our stalls at the same time, rather than consider my obvious human frailties, the girl would inevitably revisit every real or imagined noise or odor she was responsible for. My own indiscretions went unnoticed once she noticed my royal scepter and orbs.
I was a benevolent monarch. I never took advantage of my subjects' fears and insecurities. I knew my presence made them unable to even operate the tampon dispenser, so I smiled, used the facilities expeditiously, and left my people to carry on with their lives. It was good to be the king.
After I fled from Amy in the lunchroom, I wandered the halls for the rest of my lunch period rehashing my failure over and over in my mind. I thought of several things I ought to have said. I counted the days until graduation when I'd never see her again and therefore could do a much more thorough job of fleeing from her. I wondered if the French Foreign Legion still existed. At that moment, I was quite willing to March Or Die. I wandered the halls until I realized that I had more urgent things to take care of. I really had to take a crap.
I hurried to the nearest girls' bathroom, found an unoccupied stall, and evacuated. One thing I'd realized about walking around in the nude, was that it left you completely naked. You see, while I was King Of All Girls' Bathrooms, my rule only extended to the bathroom itself. Once I left it's sacred walls, I was just another naked guy. What I'm getting at is that when you were on The Program, you really had to be especially fastidious in the bathroom, or you'd leave visible traces of your activities. It's not like the bathroom had a bidet. I didn't give a damn what almost everyone in the school thought of me. That doesn't mean, however, that I was anxious to open myself for public ridicule.
I'd wondered how nudists dealt with this issue. I'd searched the internet without finding any useful information, at least not on this topic. One thing the internet did not lack was sites dedicated to naked people. Separating the nudist sites from the porn sites was tough, but still left a vast amount of information for me to get lost in. I never found what I was looking for.
Fortunately, I'd realized all this during the first time I was on The Program in my old school in Amherst and had figured out a convenient solution. I carried handy-wipes in my backpack, which met my needs perfectly. I thought about offering to endorse the product, but doubted the handy-wipe manufacturer would approve.
On my way to my next class, I noticed Linda walking in front of me. I must have been particularly sensitized from my recent trip to the bathroom, or else I must have been paying very close interest to Linda's rear. Linda had the most delectable ass. Shapely, firm, and mesmerizing, her ass drew my eyes as she walked.
“Hey Linda,” I called. She turned around. “Sorry I missed you at lunch today. I ran into some unexpected problems.”
“Yeah, I heard,” she said. “You did great. They make me ashamed of being a cheerleader.”
“Thanks, I have a partner support issue I'd like to talk to you about.”
“Oh,” she said, “Problems with Pam? Or is it Amy? Cindy says that Amy's been, well, she says it in an extremely unflattering way, but she says that Amy is interested in you.”
“No, nothing like that. It's...” The hallway was pretty crowded. We needed to be alone for this.
“Follow me,” I said. I took her hand and led her to the nearest girls' bathroom. There were a couple of girls working on their makeup, but my royal presence cowed them and they packed up and left.
“Linda,” I said, “you have probably the most beautiful butt I've ever seen, so I couldn't help noticing... You've got a little piece of, I dunno, toilet paper maybe?, stuck to your ass. It's right up there on your asshole. I don't want to embarrass you, but I figured it would probably be less embarrassing if I pointed it out here, rather than someone shout it out in the halls or class.”
For the first time since I'd met her, Linda's serene composure was broken. I handed her a handy-wipe.
“It's really not a big deal,” I said. “It could happen to anyone. It's just that nobody but us is naked so who'd know?”
Linda ducked into a stall and came out a moment later. She turned her back to me and bent over. “How does it look now? Did I get it all?”
I looked down at her firm ass, spread before me. “Linda, if you keep bending over like that, I'm not going be able to stop myself from fucking you and then, yeah, you'll get it all.”
Linda laughed, did a quick, sexy wiggle for me and stood up. She gave my hard cock a quick squeeze and said, “Thanks.” Then she walked out of the bathroom, her composure back in place.
I turned to leave for my next class when I saw, written on the bathroom wall, among the initials that heart other initials, dick size reports, and other graffiti, a little poem.
Ode To Jacob Bergman I saw him give fantastic head, I want that boy to share my bed, I need someone to cure my ache, I crave his cock, so give me Jake.
Underneath that, someone else had scrawled,
Dream on, you ho!
We shared the big gym with the guys again that day. We were still doing our interminable volleyball section, the guys were trying their best to kill each other playing dodgeball. As the period was winding down I caught Beth's eye and motioned her toward the other side of the gym. There were a couple of other girls who were in our English Lit. class that I thought had looked with more than casual interest at Jake that morning. Pam was also there. Cindy probably had her fill yesterday, but I wouldn't put it past her to get in my way out of sheer perverseness. Let them fool around with him tomorrow, I needed to corner him so I could apologize and make things better between us.
I may not have been a great judge of character when it came to best friends or boyfriends, but I sure knew the girls in my class. When the whistle blew, all the girls would normally head to the locker room. And that's what most of them actually did, but not all. Five or six girls did what Beth and I were doing; we headed the other way toward the guys' side of the gym. Five or six? Jake was getting more attention than most jocks on The Program got. I suppose it was because he put on such a good show with Linda, Pam, and me. Defending Beth from the football players and cheerleaders in lunch today may also have made him a more romantic figure. It probably didn't hurt that they should make his tongue a National Historic Landmark.
It started to work the way I'd planned it. I walked toward Jake, who saw me and walked to the other side of the gym, in Beth's general direction. Then Jake noticed that several girls were headed toward him with very determined looks on their faces. He looked around and found safe haven: Pam. Jake made a beeline for her.
I couldn't help thinking that this was like some stupid game of tag. It looked like I was going to have to find some other way to apologize to him. I could see that he was going to get to Pam before Beth reached him. That's just what happened. We all converged upon Jake, but he reached Pam first. I could see the relief in his face.
“I'm glad to see you, Jake,” Pam said. “I have a Reasonable Request to make. I want you to take a shower with Amy.”
What? Did I hear her right?
Jake had a stunned, betrayed look. This was simply absurd. I had to laugh.
“Jake, you don't have to treat this like an ordeal,” I said with a smile, “I just want to talk to you. You've been avoiding me, so I had to corner you. Let's take a shower. Who knows, you may even enjoy having a naked girl apologize to you.”
I grabbed his hand and we walked into the girls' locker room. I think Jake realized that he'd made too much of this, but he didn't look overjoyed to be with me. We stopped at my locker. I took off my gym clothes and Jake removed his jock strap. I handed Jake my towel, and I grabbed my soap and shampoo. He hung the towel on a hook by the shower. I led him to a shower and started lathering him up.
“Jake, I need to apologize to you,” I started. “I've been a total bitch to you. You've been really nice, a good friend, and a gentleman. You've been completely in the right, and I was horrid. I know that my behavior has been inexcusable, but I'm going to ask you to forgive me, anyway. It would mean so much to me if you could forgive me.”
Jake looked surprised. Even though I told him I was going to apologize, I don't think he actually believed it.
“It was terrible of me to pick a fight with you in your car Tuesday,” I continued. “But the worst thing was when I was nasty to you here in the shower yesterday. There's no excuse for what I said to you. I was angry with someone else, and hurt you, instead.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I gave the impression that you were a reject. Jake, I'd never reject you.”
I finished washing his chest and underarms. I moved behind him and started washing his back.
“You must still be mad at me,” I said. “I just hope you can forgive me, eventually.”
I was on the verge of tears. Jake must have heard my voice catch. He turned around and took my face in his hands.
He smiled gently. “I forgive you.” Then he gave me the softest, gentlest kiss I'd ever had. I felt a huge weight lift. There must have been fifteen other girls in the shower, but it felt like the two of us were all alone. I just stared into his eyes for the longest time without saying anything. He had the most powerful gaze I'd ever seen.
Beth was in the next shower, smiling at us. I motioned her to come over.
“I think Beth would like to thank you for standing up for her at lunch,” I said.
I handed Beth the shampoo and motioned for her to do him. I hoped that if she was busy doing something she might be able to talk to him even though we were all naked. It didn't work particularly well. Beth washed his hair but the only thing she could do was to weakly stammer, “Thanks.”
“Beth's kind of shy,” I whispered. “I'm sure she'd rather talk later.”
I'd continued washing him while Beth was shampooing his hair. I was washing his cock, which was totally rigid.
“Jake,” I said, “The way you ate me in class Tuesday was wonderful. I'd really love to return the favor. Would you mind?”
“Look, I'm not mad at you, anymore,” he said. “You don't have to bribe me to forgive you.”
I did think for a moment about why I wanted to do this. The idea of giving him a blowjob in the shower with other girls looking on was kind of weird. I would have preferred to get him alone and have my way with him, but I supposed it wouldn't be any worse than giving him relief in class.
I leaned close to Jake and whispered, “Jake, I've been dying to do this. Would it be okay?”
He looked at me and nodded. I knelt in front of him.
It occurred to me that this wasn't going to be exactly what I'd hoped for. I'd fantasized about giving him the mother of all blowjobs, but here, in the shower with less than twenty minutes until the next class, I couldn't take the time to do it the way I'd like. There also weren't a horde of girls watching in Jake's fantasy blowjob, but that didn't bother me much. It added a bit of spice.
“Okay, Jake,” I said, “this has to be faster than I'd prefer. I suppose that just means that I'll have to do it right some other time.”
There I was, with Jake's erect dick staring me in the face. It was moment-of-truth time.
I liked Jake's dick. It was maybe a little bit longer and thicker than average, perhaps seven inches long. The important point about that was since I didn't have that much time, and since it wasn't a monster cock, there was something that I could do that I was very proud of.
I kissed up and down his shaft for a bit, spent a little time with the head and underside, then slid it into my mouth. I bobbed up and down a few times, took a deep breath, then swallowed as I slowly slid the entire thing into my throat. As my lips touched his pubes, I looked up. Jake's faraway expression changed as his eyes widened. I think he was impressed. Damn straight, he should be impressed, I had his entire dick in my throat. This was certainly more than a peck on the cheek.
I worked him in and out, gradually getting faster as I got into the rhythm of when I breathed and when I swallowed. Jake moaned, gasped, and put both his hands on my head. I was glad that I could make him feel so good.
Pretty soon I felt the muscles in his ass tense and quiver. He moaned and thrust forward and started pumping his warm cum down my throat. I continued to bob up and down and swallowed everything he had to give me.
Jake was breathing hard and still had his hands on my head. When I was sure he'd finished, I moved off of him. I smiled up at him and gave the head of his dick a quick kiss. He smiled down at me. I had a warm feeling in my gut, almost as if I'd just swallowed a high-proof liqueur.
“That was great – well, actually it was quite a bit better than great. It was fantastic,” Jake said.
I smiled up at him, then stood up. I kissed him on the cheek and patted his butt. “Go ahead, and use my towel, just leave it hanging where it is. I'll be along in a bit.”
The blowjob made this an unusually long shower, but none of the girls in the shower had left. Apparently, hummers could surpass figure skating as the nation's number one spectator sport for women. Someone should tell ESPN.
I walked up to Pam. “I'd like to thank you for that, Pam,” I said. “But how did you know? Why did you do that? I mean, I think it was really wonderful of you, but why?”
She smiled. “I'd have to be blind not to know. I've seen the way you've been acting around Jake all week, and I also see the way he's been looking at you. I pay a lot of attention to him, you know.”
“Yeah, but aren't you... you know... aren't you having sex with him?”
“Oh yeah. In ways you couldn't even imagine,” said Pam. I was trying to be grateful and nice, but she was a bit of an arrogant bitch. Like she was the guru of fantastic sex. When I got my chance, I would fuck him until he'd have trouble standing erect – and that would be the only thing he'd have erect for days. The next blowjob I gave him, I'd have him so deep into my throat that I'd suck the marrow from his bones.
“Okay,” I said, “but why did you do it?”
“Because I like him,” She said. “I like him a whole lot. I've thought about trying to keep him. I'll bet I could. But I don't think that would really make either one of us happy. I do want to keep fucking him, but I just don't want to be anyone's girlfriend, not even his. So I thought it would be better if you two had a chance.”
“Well, thank you, it was a really nice, selfless thing to do.”
“Oh, it wasn't selfless,” she said, “I've kept my own interests at heart. I do like him, so if he feels like he'd be happier with you, then I'd like him to have that chance. But there's more to it than that. He'd probably wonder 'what if,' and I don't want my guys to have regrets when we're together. I suppose what I really mean is that I don't want him to think of me as his consolation prize. Also, you'll probably screw it up. Most relationships don't work out, you know. And I'll be there to pick up the pieces. If you guys time it right, Jake can take me to the prom. I'd like that.”
What a conniving bitch! She could take a wonderful, selfless act, and turn it into something completely underhanded and devious. Before I could decide how to respond, Pam continued.
“Well, I've enjoyed our little chat, but I have to catch up to Jake and show him that I still love him,” Pam said.
“You... you love him?” I stammered.
“No, I didn't mean that literally,” she said. “But you know him, he's likely to think that I wanted to give him to you as a way of dumping him. I need to show him that I still want him.”
I watched Pam walk away while I tried to decide if I hated her. Nope, I couldn't bring myself to despise her. She wasn't what I would normally call nice, but she was refreshingly honest. She was smart, pretty, and she liked Jake. That was a very dangerous combination. I didn't really understand her, either. She'd gotten to Jake first, and apparently didn't mind if I got involved with him. But no matter how she put it, she was putting Jake's feelings first, and that said a lot about her character.
And she was wrong about one important thing. I'd certainly screw Jake every chance I got, but I'd do everything I could not to screw up our relationship. Sigh. Once we had a relationship, if we ever did.
Beth was waiting for me by my gym locker.
“Did you see me back there?” she said, “I could barely stammer 'thanks.' He stood up to those asswipe bullies for me and all I could say was 'thanks.'”
“You did wash his hair,” I replied. “I'm sure he liked that.”
“Don't be flip,” she said. “Yeah. Like, I washed his hair and you sucked him off. I'm sure he's pleased to have clean hair.”
“Everyone appreciates clean hair.”
“You're a real bitch, you know. Have I ever told you that?”
Beth said, “I'm serious. I hate it that I can't talk to guys. I know that Jake's a nice guy. He's certainly proven that to both of us. There's no reason I should fall apart every time a guy is around, especially a non-threatening guy like Jake.”
That gave me an idea. The problem was, I couldn't decide if it was brilliant or really stupid. People who know me would often say that I was impulsive. What they never realized was that I knew I was impulsive; I did. But would knowing that you're impulsive actually help? The odds were that it was a stupid idea. That didn't help, either. Any specific idea is much more likely to be stupid than brilliant. If great ideas were commonplace then everyone would be a genius, which clearly isn't the case, especially in South Hastings High. I would have to think about this one for a while.
“Are you really serious about wanting to overcome your shyness with guys?” I asked.
“Absolutely. You should know that.”
“Well, I know something that might help,” I said cautiously.
“Let me get back to you,” I replied. “I have to find out a bit more.”
Beth gave me a puzzled look, waiting for me to elaborate, but I let it lie there. I didn't want to go through our 'I have a plan' ritual again. Once per day was plenty.
I was walking from my locker to Psychology class when I heard a sultry voice from behind me, “Hey there, tall, dark, and naked.”
I turned around and Pam wrapped her arms around me and drew me into an exceptionally non-scholastic kiss in the middle of B hallway. The scent of her soap and balsamic hair filled my nose and I felt myself getting hard, even though I'd just had a marvelous blowjob only a few minutes before. I heard a few hoots of appreciation from other kids in the hall, but I didn't care. I didn't know why, but I felt like I needed that kiss.
We broke our kiss, Pam smiled at me, put her arm through mine, and we continued slowly toward our Psychology classroom.
“So that was a pleasant little shower, wasn't it?” Pam asked slyly.
“Oh all right,” I said, “I'm big enough to admit it. You were right, I was wrong.”
“About what?” Pam asked ingenuously.
“You know about what. About Amy.”
“Say it,” she teased.
“Who's always right about these things?”
Sigh. “You are,” I admitted, “You're always right, Pam.”
“And don't forget it,” she said. “Was it nice? It looked like you enjoyed it.”
Oh my god, she was just the most exasperating minx. I was going to have to either throttle her or rip her clothes off and fuck her right there. “Yes, Pam,” I said, “it was very nice.”
“Good. You need to enjoy yourself. You deserve it, too.”
“Pam,” I said, finally giving voice to what I was avoiding, “I don't think Amy is, um... as flexible and open-minded as you are.” What an ass I was. I despise people who speak in euphemisms, but there I was, unable to say exactly what I meant.
“Oh, she looks pretty flexible to me,” Pam chuckled, “but I know what you mean. Yeah, Amy seems like the commitment type to me, too.”
“You don't mind?”
“Oh, I mind. I like you, Jake. I like you a lot. But I'm not the commitment type. I'll do almost anything with you that you'd like to do in bed – we really do need to make our way to a bed one of these days – but I'm just not ready to make a commitment to you, or anyone. Except for our date Saturday. I'm committed to that. I'm not giving that up to Amy.”
“What should I do?” I asked, more to myself than Pam.
“Follow you heart, Jake. I'll be there for you, no matter what you do,” she said. She reached her hand up behind my head and pulled me into a deep, soft kiss.
From behind me, I heard someone clearing his throat. “Unhum... Mr. Bergman, Ms. Dawson, no PDAs in school.” I looked up and saw that officious prick, Mr. Conway.
The look on Pam's face told me that she was not going to behave. “So, Mr. Conway,” said Pam, “I can give Jake a blowjob in class, but I can't kiss him? Is that right?”
Mr. Conway was clearly uncomfortable. “Well, yes,” he said, “I suppose that's what the rules say.”
“So what's the lesson for today?” Pam asked. “According to The Program, sexual acts are healthy as long as they're not associated with any affection?” Pam had Mr. Conway by the short hairs. The Program was dear to his bureaucratic, conformist heart.
“No... umm... no,” Mr. Conway said, clearly flustered, “that's not it at all. The Program encourages sexual exploration as an extension of healthy human relationships.”
“Last time I checked,” Pam said, “both Jake and I were human. So wouldn't it be appropriate for us to have a healthy human relationship? We can do the sexual exploration part in the first five minutes of our next class.”
“Er, you see... um,” babbled Mr. Conway, “it's just that...” He looked at his watch. “Oh my! I'll have to hurry to make my next class. We'll discuss this later.” And Mr. Conway fled the scene.
“Oh my god, Pam!” I exclaimed, “You made that hypocritical bastard run away! You are my hero.”
We walked into our Psychology classroom laughing our heads off.
After Psychology class, I walked with Jake to Calculus.
“Jake, are you doing anything after school today?” I asked.
“A little homework, that's all. We'll probably have an assignment for Calculus. It shouldn't take too long, though. Why?”
“I was wondering if you'd like to come over to my house after school. We could do our calculus homework there, and stuff.” I said.
“And stuff?” He asked.
I punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Yeah, and stuff.”
He rubbed his shoulder and chuckled. “Sure. It's got to be less painful than walking the halls with you.”
“Are you driving Shelly home today?”
“Nope. She has jazz band. She'll get a ride home with her friend, Joan.”
“Great,” I said. “Could you wait for me after school's over? Out front?”
“I'll be there.”
“It may take me a few minutes, but I'll meet you there.”
Calculus class seemed to go on forever. We were studying asymptotic functions. An asymptotic function gets very close, infinitesimally close to something – a point, or line, or whatever – but never reaches it. That's what the clock did. Calculus was our last class for the day, but it would never end. An eternity passed before the class was half over. The third quarter of the class seemed at least twice as long as the first half. I don't know what moron decided that each class would be fifty-five minutes long. That meant the last eighth of the period was 6.875 minutes long. That was one of the many stupid problems with South Hastings High, you couldn't even sustain an interesting metaphor. I mean, it throws off the entire rhythm of my argument to say that the last 6.875 minutes passed twice as slowly as the previous quarter. I had a beautiful argument leading toward a proof that the class would never end, and that damn fifty-five minute class period screws it all up. Who cares that it was subjective time that I was talking about? When we live through something, it's always subjective.
Okay, class did finally end, but it aged me. I'll bet that after sitting through that I could legally vote, or maybe even drink. I could go to the bartender and say, “Yes, I know that my driver's license says I'm seventeen, but I just sat through a lecture on asymptotic functions. It lasted at least another three years and four months.” I'm certain that if the bartender truly understood how boring it was, then I'd have earned a margarita, if not an entire pitcher.
I grabbed Beth after the bell rang and led her to an empty classroom to chat. “Beth,” I said, “I have a suggestion for you.”
“You were complaining about being afraid of guys, right?” She nodded. “You know that my father doesn't get home until about six, right? Well, Jake's coming over to my house and I plan to finish what we started in the shower today. I thought that maybe you'd like to come and...”
“Watch?” Beth interrupted. “You want me to watch? Jesus Christ, Amy, why don't I just rent a porno video?”
“No, smartass,” I replied, “I don't want you to watch me have sex with Jake. I'm perfectly content to do that on my own. I though that maybe it would help you over your fear of guys if you actually did something with one.”
“What do you mean, exactly?”
“Well, you know Jake's a good guy, right?”
“So you know, at least intellectually, that there's no reason to be afraid of him,” I continued. “I thought that maybe if you, I dunno, made out with him a bit that it would ease some of your fears of the unknown. Because it wouldn't be unknown any more.”
“What?” Beth seemed to be a little shocked.
“It's not such a big deal. You can trust him. I'll be there, too.”
“But Amy,” Beth complained, “I couldn't do that. For one thing, he's yours.”
“No,” I said, “he's not mine. Not yet, at least. You might as well say that he's Pam's or Linda's. Pam has done more with him than I have. I haven't even gone on a date with him. It's not like he's my boyfriend. Maybe he will be sometime in the future, but he certainly isn't right now. Even if he was, if I was there, you couldn't say he was cheating on me.”
“Are you telling me that you asked Jake to come over to your house to make out with me?” Beth was outraged.
“Of course not,” I said. “I just asked him to come over. I didn't say anything about you. It would have been stupid for me to say you'd be there. I wouldn't do that without talking to you first. For one thing I had no idea if you'll actually be there. I still don't.”
“But Amy,” Beth complained again, “I could never do that.” She was getting pretty repetitious.
“Sure you could. But thinking that you can't, well, isn't that the whole problem?” She didn't respond, so I continued, “You remember what Jake did to Linda and me in class and what Pam and I did to him. I'll bet anything that you've imagined that it was you instead of us, haven't you?”
Beth didn't say anything, which I thought was as good as a confession.
“Come on,” I said, “admit it. You've imagined it, haven't you?”
“What if I have?” she asked. “It doesn't mean anything.”
“It means that you're a normal girl with normal desires,” I replied. “Look, I'm not suggesting that you have sex with him. I have to admit that it would bother me a little if you had sex with him before I did. So fool around with him a little. Kiss him. Let him feel you up. Whatever you feel like. I'll be right there, so it'll be perfectly safe. You can't disappoint Jake, because I'll be sure to take care of him. You don't have to worry about not knowing what to do because I'll be there to help. Whaddya say?”
Beth didn't say anything, which I took for acceptance. We got our coats and things from our lockers and then walked to the front entrance where Jake was waiting.
I walked up to Jake and said, “Hey, there,” and gave him a quick peck on the lips. I just loved it that I could do that.
“Jake, could Beth borrow your cell phone for a bit?” I asked. “She's got to make a quick call and tell her mom that she's going over to my house.” I could tell that Jake was disappointed but trying to hide it. He was so cute. He got his phone out of his backpack and gave it to Beth. While Beth was calling home, I took Jake aside.
“You look a bit disappointed, like you broke your favorite toy,” I said.
“Oh, no,” he said, “not at all. I'm happy to go over to your house, do homework, and just hang out.”
“So you don't want to continue what we started in the shower?” I asked. I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I loved having your dick in my mouth. I want to find more places we can put it. Maybe we can find you a new favorite toy.”
“But, well, you know... Beth.” It wasn't his most eloquent sentence, but I knew what he meant.
“We'll have some time alone, don't worry,” I answered. “But Beth's what I wanted to talk to you about. You know she's really shy, especially around guys?”
“Standing up to those assholes for her at lunch was wonderful. I'm really proud of you,” I said. “I think that showed Beth that she can trust you.”
“Okay,” he said, drawing it out into several syllables.
“I was wondering if you would do something for me. Beth's one of my best friends, probably my best friend now, and I feel bad that she gets so tongue-tied and frustrated around guys. So, if you don't mind, I was wondering if you'd be willing to help her.”
“How?” Jake asked.
“I thought that maybe you could, you know, fool around with her a bit that it would show her that she doesn't have anything to worry about. She's awfully scared of sex, and if you helped her get started, well, she wouldn't be too afraid. You're probably the only guy she'd be comfortable with. And I'll be there to help her.”
“Um...” he hesitated, “are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Please, Jake,” I said. “It would mean so much to her. Me too. Would you do it for me?”
Jake just looked at me; maybe he thought it was some sort of test. I tried to give him a combination winsome and approving smile. He paused long enough that I was sure he was going to say no. Oh, I thought, I hope I haven't blown it with him, again.
“All right,” he finally answered.
I drove over to Amy's house wondering what the hell I was doing. Just two days before, Amy had almost chewed my head off for messing around with Pam, and now she was practically dragging me to her house to have sex with Beth? I didn't get it.
What exactly did Beth want, anyway? I wasn't enthusiastic at the prospect. I was almost certain that Beth was a virgin. In fact, I had doubts that she'd so much as kissed a guy. She was cute, but I wasn't lusting after her. The whole idea of having sex with her made me skittish. I wasn't so jaded that I thought that sex, especially a girl's first time, was no big deal. There was a sort of foreplay that was missing – I don't mean the normal prelude to intercourse, I mean the ritualistic duel that a guy and girl go through when they get to know each other and express interest in getting physical.
I will admit that a nasty part of me did like the idea of putting it to the daughter of that antisemitic asshole who called me a Jew boy at the school board meeting. But I was mostly worried that Beth would get hurt, or Amy would get mad, or even more likely, both. Another big problem I saw was that, especially after that scene in the cafeteria, Beth would be crushed by any rejection. This whole thing had such huge potential for disaster, and I couldn't see any way out of it. Maybe I could run my car into a ditch and claim a groin injury?
No likely-looking ditches appeared as I meekly followed Amy's car. I was certain that Amy and Beth were conspiring against me in Amy's damn bright yellow jeep. It was a car that just screamed tomboy/daddy's-girl. It was the perfect car for Amy.
We arrived at Amy's house. The girls must have understood my reluctance because they came over to my car, each of them grabbed one of my hands, and they led me inside. We sat around the kitchen table as Amy got each of us a soda.
The three of us chatted about school stuff, carefully avoiding topics like my fight with Amy, the incident in the cafeteria, and the looming prospect of sex. While I'm sure we all felt the presence of these unspoken issues, it was nice to be able to just talk about normal high school things. For one thing, it was the first time I'd ever heard Beth say anything outside of answers to questions in class. Another thing I enjoyed was having a pleasant conversation with Amy.
I hadn't had many conversations with Amy, but somehow it felt like I had. I had fun talking with Amy and her father after the movie earlier in the week. Our long talk in my car about our lives, our relationships and how we came to live in Hastings was really great – until it blew up right at the end. Karen was the only other girl I'd ever had such a deep conversation with. I'd replayed each of the conversations I'd had with Amy over and over in my mind, both enjoying the flow, and trying to figure out exactly where it went wrong. Leaving out the disastrously bad parts, I really liked chatting with her. Talking to Amy was always a very lively experience. She kept me on my toes; tossing non sequiturs that made me either laugh or see things from a new perspective.
We chatted for a while about nothing in particular. We spent a while dissecting our Civics teacher, Mr. Conway, trying to determine exactly what his problem was. I told them about Pam making Mr. Conway run away and they howled with laughter. We ragged on some of our other teachers, the school in general, but there was the forbidden topic that we always steered our conversation away from – why we were there that afternoon. Finally, the conversation died, leaving an uneasy silence.
“I have to admit that I feel kind of awkward about this,” I said. “I don't want anyone to get hurt, or mad.” I made a point about not looking at Amy when I said the part about anyone getting mad. She caught it anyway. She was pretty perceptive.
Amy smiled at me in a fond, disarming sort of way. It made me feel much better when she looked at me like that. That was the moment when I realized what a complete sap I was. I was in serious trouble. All she had to do was look at me like that and I would do anything. I knew I'd been having serious misgivings, but I just didn't care anymore.
“Well, I'm not going to get mad,” Amy said. “I think if we approach this honestly, like friends, nobody will get hurt, either. Grab your drinks and let's continue this in my room.” She led us up to her room. I walked in the door and thought, Yep, this is Amy's room. No chance I could mistake it for belonging to anyone else.
There were some girlie things: a couple of stuffed animals, some makeup stuff on her desk, a curling iron, but the room was dominated by her snowboarding posters. She had one of the womans' Olympic snowboarding team. There was a big, signed poster of a woman I didn't recognize with goggles pushed up on the top of her head, holding a snowboard in one hand, the other hand raised over her head in triumph. There was another big poster of some guy I didn't recognize, also holding – what else – a snowboard.
Amy clearly hadn't planned on having visitors. The room, while not sloppy, wasn't completely picked up. She walked around the room with an apologetic look, put her makeup away, picked up a few pieces of underwear and some other clothes and tossed them into a hamper. It was actually more intimate entering her slightly messy room than if it were cleaned up.
I walked over to Amy's desk and looked at her photos. The wall behind her desk had framed photos and there were a couple more on the desk. I saw a picture of Amy and another woman – an older version of Amy. They were both dressed in skiwear, both wearing identical unconquerable grins. The vista from the mountaintop spread behind them. Amy had grown a bit, let her hair get a bit longer, and the horndog in me insisted upon noting, developed her breasts a fair bit more in the years since the picture was taken.
Another photo with Amy, her father, and her mother, with a wooded background was on the desk. The largest frame had a portrait of her mother. Her hair color and cheekbones were identical to Amy's. There was some difference in her mouth. Amy's mother had a more sophisticated smile. Amy's grin was wilder and untamed.
I realized that I'd been staring at the photos for a while. Someone, either Amy or Beth, had said something that I didn't catch. I looked up, with a sheepish expression. Amy was standing behind me with a shy smile. I pulled her to me and kissed her forehead.
“Well, that's a start,” Amy said. She held my hand and walked me over to the bed. She sat down and motioned for me to sit next to her.
I sat, then Amy looked up at me and leaned over, tilting her face up. I kissed her softly. She reached one hand around my back and the other hand up behind my head, running her fingers through my hair and pressing me deeper into her. I closed my eyes as the intensity of our kiss increased. I pulled her closer as our mouths opened and our tongues met. I lost track of time. Our kiss finally ended, and I looked into her eyes. I was scared at what I saw there. I was also relieved.
“Okay Beth,” Amy said, patting the bed on the other side of me, “your turn.”
“Um, Amy?” Beth said hesitantly, “I don't think that if I kiss him it'll be like that.”
“That's entirely beside the point,” said Amy. “The reason we're doing this is to show you that there's nothing to be afraid of. So you can stop worrying about jumping in when the time is right.”
Beth paused for a moment, then sat down next to me.
“Beth,” I said, “you know, we don't have to do this. It's okay if we don't. Really.”
Beth sighed. “No,” she said, “I really think I need to do this. I've been scared for too long. I mean, I really do want to. Sometimes I get so, well, so horny. Lonely, too. But whenever a guy approaches me, I freeze up completely. Amy's right.”
I looked at Amy, and she nodded. I scooted closer to Beth, leaned in, and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. Very chaste. I didn't want to scare her.
“Still okay?” I asked. Beth nodded.
Amy got off the bed and said, “Get comfortable. Lie down.” She motioned for Beth to lie down on the left side of the bed. Beth did, and I lay down next to her. Amy sat next to me, resting her hand on my shoulder.
“Okay, Jake,” Amy said, “kiss her some more. A little harder.”
I did. Beth was very stiff at first, but after a little bit, she relaxed. I kissed her again.
“Tongue,” Amy whispered into my ear, “use a little tongue. But gently.”
I opened my mouth a bit. Beth didn't react at all. I nibbled on her upper lip a little. Beth giggled. That was a pretty good reaction, I thought. I couldn't tell if Beth was enjoying herself, but she couldn't be too uncomfortable. I kissed her again and this time when I opened my mouth Beth did, also. I lightly flicked my tongue into her mouth. I did this several times, then Beth followed suit. We kissed for a while longer. Beth seemed to relax a little more.
“Kiss her neck, Jake,” whispered Amy. She rubbed her hands along my neck and shoulders.
I like women's necks; I always have. There's just something so sensual about soft skin and long lines that draw me from mouth, to earlobe, to collarbone, and finally to suckle on breasts. A woman's neck is a road that takes me to lovely places I need to go.
I took my time on Beth's neck, enjoying myself thoroughly. I'm pretty sure that Beth liked it also. She was breathing more heavily and occasionally I found a spot that made her softly moan.
“Okay, Jake,” Amy whispered, “slowly, caress her breasts. Very gently. Don't spook her.”
This was just too bizarre. I was making out with Beth while Amy sat at my shoulder giving encouragement and instructions. I thought of those cartoons where the protagonist had a little devil on one shoulder urging him on and a little angel on the other shoulder preaching restraint. Amy was a weird mixture of both; she was my angel who was urging me on.
As gently as I could, I reached over and rubbed Beth's breast. She moaned. Amy got up and walked to the side of the bed Beth was on. I felt Beth's bra loosen as Amy unhooked the clasp in the back. Then I moved away as Amy raised Beth's blouse over her head. I lowered my head to kiss Beth's collarbone as I stroked her bare tits. Beth moaned again so I took a nipple into my mouth, sucked, and flicked it with my tongue.
I'm not sure that I was really being fair to Beth. While I was tonguing Beth's nipples, I was concentrating on Amy. On the other side of the bed behind Beth, Amy was watching us and slowly taking off her clothes. When she was done she pulled me off Beth, then pulled off my shirt. Then Amy unbuttoned my jeans, lowered them, then pulled off my pants and underwear. Amy gave me a soft, fast kiss, then pushed me onto my back with my head on her pillow.
“Okay Beth,” Amy said. “It's your turn. Would you like to do something for Jake? You're in charge. Do what you want.”
Beth sat up and looked down at my naked body. “How about I do what you did to him in the shower?”
“That's fine, Beth,” Amy said, “but you really need to use the words. There's nothing scary about this. If you use the words for what you're doing, then you'll face it directly.”
“I'm going to give him a blowjob,” Beth said with determination.
I had images in my mind of Castle Anthrax in Monty Python And The Holy Grail. We'd skipped the spankings and went straight to the oral sex. I fervently hoped a knight errant wouldn't rush in to save me from this torment.
I spread my legs and Beth sat down between them. Amy sat down next to me. Beth hesitantly grabbed my cock and lifted it so it was pointing at her.
“Um, Amy?” Beth said, “I'm not really sure what to do. I watched you, but you had him in your mouth, so I couldn't really see what you were doing.”
What followed was much more embarrassing than standing up in French class and having my various parts labeled. Amy pointed out the most sensitive parts using my dick as a visual aid. And damn me if she wasn't right. I'd known guys that had been completely unable to give a girl an orgasm, and had hated the idea of being sexually inept. So I'd spent a fair amount of time reading and trying to figure out what parts of a pussy were the most sensitive, but I'd never thought about dicks. I'd just kind of figured that it was all good. I hadn't fooled around with all that many girls, but even though some of them weren't very experienced, they'd all gotten me off. Amy had given me an absolutely fantastic blowjob in the shower that day, but I'd figured that it was more mental, that Amy just excited me so much and that made the difference. Well, she did excite me tremendously, but apparently she also had some great technique.
Beth had gotten to a pretty good start. After initially scraping me with her teeth accidentally, she was doing a fine job. What was driving me out of my mind, however, was Amy. After giving Beth pointers, Amy sat down next to me to, I dunno, supervise? Amy was holding my hand, occasionally kissing it, and stroking my chest and head. All very intimate and endearing gestures, but she was doing it while Beth was sucking on my cock. I didn't have the mental capacity for that. I was getting closer and closer. Beth was sucking my cock while Amy was fucking my heart.
Amy leaned over me and kissed me very softly and whispered, “Cum for me, dear.” That was it. I exploded. I lay there for a bit, panting and delving into Amy's eyes. I had this odd feeling that even though Beth blew me, it was Amy who gave me the orgasm. After a moment, I sat up.
“Wow. Are you sure that was your first time?” I asked Beth when I'd recovered. She just grinned.
“Where did you learn all that stuff, Amy?” Beth asked.
“I'm curious too,” I said. “That blowjob you gave me in the shower was the best I've ever had.”
“Well, I was a virgin until John, but he wasn't my first boyfriend. I had a couple of boyfriends back in Boulder. But that wasn't where I learned the subtle art of the blowjob.”
“Okay. So where did you train your oh-so-talented tongue?” asked Beth.
“Al Gore taught me.”
I exclaimed, “WHAT?”
“The Information Superhighway, silly,” Amy giggled. “The Internet. Al Gore would be so proud, doncha think?”
We all had to laugh.
“You did a great job, Beth,” I said. “I'd like to return the favor, but I think that's really as far as we should go today. Okay?”
Beth glanced quickly at Amy who said, “That's what Beth and I agreed. I suppose we should have mentioned it. Sorry. Besides, I'm on the pill, but Beth's not.”
“That's actually a relief,” I said, “It's not that you're not desirable, Beth. I happen to think you're tremendously fuckable. It's just that you might prefer to lose your virginity in a more, well, meaningful way. I'd hate for you to regret this.”
“So far, it's been great,” Beth said. “You guys have taken a lot of the pressure off. Amy's coaching helped a lot. I didn't really know what to do, or where to begin.”
“Sure,” I laughed, “Amy's the sex coach, and I'm just a hard penis. I feel like one of those dummies they use in CPR classes. I'm not just a sex object, you know. Oh, I just feel so used.”
Amy and Beth both smiled, then Beth said softly, “You're not just a penis, Jake. When you were kissing me, and kissing my breasts it felt wonderful. Don't worry, I'll respect you in the morning.”
“So,” Amy said, “he got you nice and horny?”
“Then let's see what we can do about that,” I said. I got up and moved to the foot of the bed. Amy repositioned Beth so that Beth was lying down the length of the bed with her head on the pillow. Before I could even start unbuttoning Beth's jeans, Amy was already tugging them off. We removed Beth's panties together.
“Wow, Amy,” I chuckled, “You are a great sex coach. I'm going to miss your help the next time I have to seduce a girl the old-fashioned way.”
Amy looked at me impishly and said, “You never know. Maybe I'll be there the next time you seduce a girl. Who knows, I might even be the next girl you seduce.”
“I'd like that,” I replied. Amy gave me another one of her smiles that made me weak in the knees.
Beth was completely naked now and spread out before me.
“Beth, you're beautiful,” I said. She was. She had a puckish face, a lean, but obviously feminine body.
Beth didn't react the way I'd expected, though. She looked rather sad.
“What's wrong?” I asked.
“You don't have to say that.”
“That you're beautiful? You are,” I replied.
“I look like a boy.”
“No you don't. You're thin, but curvy. You've got a great butt. And, no you don't have big tits, but they're very nice, and as I couldn't help but notice, they're very sensitive. I think you look great. Your problems with guys aren't because you're not attractive. It's because you're incredibly shy. And, by the way, you should take another look at fashion models. They tend to have bodies like yours, although they're mostly a lot taller.
“There's no need to feel self-conscious about your body. It's great. Anyway, I'm going to stop talking now and use my tongue for something much more important. I'm gonna show you how much I like your body.”
I kissed up her legs and around her pussy. I licked around it, and Beth moaned and raised her hips toward my face. I explored her with my tongue, driving her as close to orgasm as I dared before easing off and letting her come back down. Beth moaned in frustration. Then I started again and slowly brought her to her climax. Beth was the quietest girl I'd ever eaten. She clutched my head to her and just quivered as she came. Her chest heaved as her breathing grew ragged. That was the only indication she was cumming.
I was a bit worried that she didn't have a particularly strong orgasm. I'd wanted to give her one she could remember, since it was the first from a guy. After a few minutes, Beth pushed me away from her and lay panting.
“You're really quiet, Beth,” I said. “Was it okay?”
“Okay?” replied Beth, “Oh My God. Amy told me how great it was, but I had absolutely no idea. No, I'm not okay. I'm not sure I'll ever be okay again.”
Amy laughed, “Well, if you're done with him, then it's my turn. Watching you give each other head has made me so hot I can't stand it.”
Amy gently, but insistently, pushed me over onto my back and then straddled my head. She was dripping wet. She lowered her pussy to my face. I could practically feel her need. I could certainly taste and smell it. I grabbed the globes of her ass and pulled her to my face and thrust my tongue as deep as it could go. I licked up her pussy and flicked her clit.
“Oh, yesss,” Amy hissed.
I turned my right hand and used my index finger to massage her tunnel, searching for her G-spot. She was drenched. I wondered how kinky she was. She had to be awfully adventurous, after all I was eating her right after I finished her friend. I stuck the index finger of my left hand into her pussy and got it nice and wet. Then I rubbed it over and around her asshole. Amy squirmed and moaned. Did that mean she liked it? She was pretty close, maybe that's all it was? I'd given her a chance to scoot away, and she didn't. Amy may be many things, but she wasn't shy and demure. If this bothered her, she'd do something. I thrust my finger into her tight ass, and continued to rub her G-Spot. It was the Kama Sutra version of patting your head and rubbing your tummy.
Amy shrieked. She collapsed onto my face. I had to struggle to move my nose so I could breathe. She was rubbing herself against me so hard that all I could do was hang in there and let her ride it out.
After a nice, long cum, Amy collapsed onto the bed next to me. She flung her arm over my chest and one leg over my legs, and then lay there panting. I stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. Amy pulled me into a deep, languid kiss.
Amy lifted her head up and looked across me at Beth. “Why don't you take a shower, Beth?” she asked. Amy gave Beth a meaningful look. “We'll meet you downstairs in a while. Grab a drink or a snack from the fridge. You know where everything is.”
Beth nodded, grabbed her clothes, and left the room.
“Anything else you and Beth planned that I should know about?” I asked Amy.
“No,” she replied. “I told Beth that, after she was done, I needed some time to talk to you. She told me she's got homework in her backpack to finish so we can take as long as we'd like.”
“What did you want to talk about?”
Amy was still lying across me. She was idly toying with my chest hair – I didn't have a ton, but apparently enough to interest her. She leaned over and nestled her head on my shoulder, then kissed up and down my collarbone. Amy was a great conversationalist.
“Jake,” she said. “I'm really, really sorry I was such a bitch to you.”
“You already apologized,” I replied.
“I didn't apologize enough. You've been so great. You've been there when I needed a friend. You listened to my problems. And you always thought about my feelings – even more than your own desires. I can't tell you how much that means to me. And I was so terrible to you.
“I was feeling confused and so angry with John and Cindy. I'm so sorry that I took it out on you. I feel so bad about that. I'm not angry with you, and I'm not jealous about you and Pam – well, to be totally honest, I'm not completely sure how I feel about that. But I don't want you to break your dates with Pam this weekend. You promised and I know you're the kind of person who keeps his promises.”
Amy was crying. Not sobbing, but there was a slow trickle of tears down her cheeks.
“I'm really more envious than jealous. I want you to go, to have fun, and it doesn't bother me that you'll have sex with her. I'd just rather it be me. And I keep thinking about watching you and Pam in class, and you and Beth a few minutes ago. Those were the hottest things I've ever seen.
“I keep remembering the terrible things I said to you. You're the nicest, smartest, funniest, sexiest guy I've ever known. I'm just so sorry...”
I could tell that Amy would have gone on like this for a long time. I interrupted her by lifting my head to hers and kissing her tears.
“I'm not mad at you,” I said. “I was more hurt than angry, anyway. I'm really glad that things are okay now.”
“I want them to be much more than okay,” Amy said softly.
“They always have been, as far as I'm concerned,” I replied. “I've been fascinated with you since I moved here. And this past week that I've gotten to really know you... well...” I paused and looked into her azure eyes. “Amy, I...”
Amy brought up her hand and covered my mouth.
“Wait,” she said. “Wait until your week on The Program is over. You know, it just occurred to me, The Program is a graduation requirement. I haven't been on it yet and neither has Beth. I think what we did today was probably really good for Beth. It'll help her a lot when she's on The Program. You were really nice to her, in school and here. She needed that. You'll pay a lot of attention to her when she's on the program, right?”
“I'm in five classes with you each day. When I'm on The Program, I'm gonna call you up for relief so often it'll make your knees sore and your tongue cramp.”
“You don't have to,” I said. “It's The Program. There'll be guys feeling you up. Pick some for relief. You should feel free to explore. You get so horny that it's almost impossible not to.”
“You are the sweetest, most wonderful guy, you know.”
“I'm not,” I replied, “but I'm glad you think so. Since you brought it up, on Monday, I promised Shelly's friend Trish that if she was on the program before I graduated, I'd pay some attention to her. There's only about a twenty percent chance that'll happen, and she's not shy like Beth, but I think it'd mean a lot to her if a senior paid some attention to her while she was strutting around nude.”
“So cop a feel, go down on girls on The Program. But Jake...”
“I'd really like it if you could do it some when I'm around. I like to watch you.”
I chuckled, “Sure.”
“And Jake... would you please make love to me, now?” Amy asked.
She rolled onto her back and I moved over her. I'd been hard for a while, since our oral sex festival, but after cumming twice that day I wasn't feeling much urgency. Amy guided me into her and I slid down to the hilt. I stayed there, pressed against her, and just looked into her eyes for a moment. She smiled up at me and I could feel us melting into each other. When we kissed, her hands moved up to run through my hair and caress my back. I started moving with long, slow strokes. I don't know how long we stayed like that: slowly moving into each other, soft kisses, and gazing into each other.
Our passion rose gradually. Amy shut her eyes and moaned.
“I can't believe how beautiful and fantastic you are,” I whispered.
Amy smiled. “There's a lot of girls in school more attractive than I am.”
“I don't think so,” I said, “but I wasn't just talking about how gorgeous you look.”
I leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Nobody makes me feel the way you do, Amy. If I could feel any more, I'd burst.”
“So burst,” Amy said. “I've been aching to feel you inside me.” She moaned softly. “Jake, I've never felt this way before. I thought I did, but I was wrong. It was nothing like this.”
She kissed me fiercely, and thrust against me harder. I took the hint and sped up. Amy arched her back and started calling my name.
“Oh, Jake!” she cried, turning the end of my name into a wail. She wrapped her arms and legs around me, holding me close as she thrashed.
She relaxed when she finished her orgasm, and smiled shyly up at me, a little embarrassed at her wild abandon. Then she started kissing my neck, my chest, and my nipples. I went crazy. I pounded into her and she rose up to meet me. Amy shrieked and gasped, while I groaned and poured myself into her. I continued to thrust into her as I softened until her cries stopped. Then I just collapsed beside her, holding onto her tightly.
We lay together, holding and caressing each other.
“Mmmmmm,” Amy purred, “this is nice. I wish we could lay here forever, but we can't. Shower? Wash my back?”
“Second time today? Sure. I always want seconds with you.”
Amy punched me playfully and said, “Shelly is right. You are a big dork.”
We actually did get our Calculus homework done, but it took forever. Amy, Beth, and I spread out our books and notebooks on the kitchen table. We'd be working away, occasionally asking each other a math question when either Beth or Amy would spontaneously break into a giggling fit. One of them would make some sly, teasing comment and it would all start again. Beth asked Amy if she'd measured my slope and it was five minutes before the giggling stopped. Amy was rubbing my calf with her toe underneath the table when she told Beth that maybe they should raise my exponent. I didn't think it was all that funny, but they howled with laughter. I decided that I'd finally had enough.
I scooped Amy out of her chair and walked out of the kitchen, heading toward the stairs. Amy shrieked and Beth almost fell out of her chair laughing. When I got to the foot of the stairs, I realized my mistake. Amy was only a couple of inches shorter than I was. While she weighed a lot less than I did, she was still a hefty armful. There was no way I was getting up the stairs without dropping her or falling down, especially the way she rolled side to side giggling and laughing.
I paused at the bottom of the stairs and Amy giggled and said, “Hey sailor, looks like you're stuck. I don't think you'll manage to haul this sail up your mast.”
“Hah! Scurvy wench,” I bellowed, “prepare for boarding.” I hadn't taken those lifeguard classes for nothing. I flipped her over my shoulder into a fireman's carry. Amy shrieked, but I was up the stairs in no time. Beth stayed down in the living room, hooting with laughter. I carried Amy into her bedroom and nudged the door closed with my butt.
“You know,” I said, “your bedroom reeks of pussy. You're going to have to air it out before your father gets home. Open windows in November is going to be a bit suspicious.”
“I'll take care of it,” Amy said from over my shoulder, “but I'm a bit occupied at the moment.”
“I think we should add to the aroma before we eliminate it,” I said. Then I dropped her onto the bed and dove in after her. I kissed her roughly. Amy giggled through the kiss, but responded. She'd giggle, caress my back and shoulders as she held me close, open her mouth to deepen our kiss, then gasp for breath.
“That's what you get for all that teasing downstairs!” I said.
“Well, if this is what I get,” she said, “I think you're in for a lot more teasing.”
We kissed, groped each other, and went through the basic make-out repertoire when Amy said, “I don't think we really have time for more than a little kissing right now.”
“That's okay,” I said. “This is what I really wanted.”
We kissed some more. I explored her neck and earlobes. Light kisses and little nibbles, just to be sure I remembered their flavor. Amy busied herself massaging my back. She kissed my neck and whispered my name into my ear.
Suddenly, Amy sat up, undid my belt and started pulling my shirt off. “We'll have to make this fast, Jake,” she said.
“I thought we didn't have time.”
“Oh, there's a word for guys like you,” said Amy. “Get a girl all hot and bothered, then refuse to do anything about it.” She tugged off her jeans, and started unbuttoning her blouse. “They call you a pussytease.”
I had to laugh. Amy was tugging my pants off. “But Amy,” I said, “we just can't. I'm saving it for my wedding night.”
“You can't leave me like this, Jake,” Amy said with a straight face. “It hurts. You just can't leave me like this. I've got bluelips.”
“Don't worry, Jake,” she said as she straddled me, inserting my dick into her, “I won't come on your cock. I promise.”
After our second bout, I just wanted to lay there in bed, holding Jake. There was just no time for that; my dad would be home soon. I asked Jake to clean up and tell Beth to get ready to go.
I tidied up my room, opened my window, and made the bed. My initial idea was to change the sheets and start a load of laundry, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wanted to go to sleep that night with my bed smelling of our sex. I made the bed, tightly tucking in the comforter. Nobody would be able to smell it until I went to bed and wrapped myself in our scent.
I went downstairs and found Beth and Jake in the kitchen.
“Beth, can I have a couple of minutes with Jake before he drives you home?” I asked.
Beth looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Sure,” she said, “you can have a couple of minutes alone. That's after almost an hour alone to have sex, then another half hour to fuck, again.” Then she grabbed her backpack and flounced outside. She wasn't really mad. I knew the first thing she'd do when she got home was to run up to her room and call me and pry all the details of my alone-time with Jake.
“That was wonderful, Jake,” I said.
“Well, I'm not sure we got the right answer for problem eight,” He said. I slapped his shoulder and he said, “Oh, you meant the sex. I thought you meant the Calculus homework. Yeah, the sex was great.” I slapped his shoulder again and he laughed. Then he stood very close to me and looked deeply into me for a moment. He kissed me softly, but intensely. I held him tightly and tried to push what I was feeling into the kiss.
“Amy,” Jake said, “this afternoon was amazing. I could lose myself in you.”
“Mmmm... I'm sure Beth won't mind if we go back upstairs for a while,” I said. “When my dad arrives, she can tell him to wait outside with her. I'm sure he won't mind, either.”
“Seriously,” I said, “when you take Beth home I think you should make out with her in her driveway. Maybe finger her. She's probably really horny from thinking about what we were doing upstairs.”
Jake laughed again. “Do you know what her father thinks of me?” He said. “He'd lynch me.”
“Good point. Well, at least give her a big sloppy kiss. Tell her I insisted.”
“Amy, I don't want to lead her on,” Jake said. “I'm the first guy she's done anything with. I could easily hurt her. I'm not interested in her, not like I am with you.”
“Or with Pam.” I could have kicked myself when that slipped out. It was going so well and then I started doing everything I could to ruin it with him.
“It's different with Pam.” Then he sighed. “I don't feel for Pam, what I feel with you, but I suppose I have to admit, I do have strong feelings for her. They're just different. I told you that I thought I could have just meaningless sex with her. I was wrong. Maybe I just can't have meaningless sex. When I'm with you, all I want is to be together. But I have to admit that I do have feelings for her, too. And I was with her first, but she doesn't want to have any sort of exclusive relationship. In fact, she wants me to see you. And...”
“It's okay,” I interrupted. “We don't have to work this out right now. Go ahead, see Pam. It's okay. We'll work it out together. Remember, this is your week on The Program. Do what you want with other girls. It's okay. Really.”
I could tell that he was still confused about his feelings. It bothered me too, but it also made me feel warm inside whenever he mentioned how he felt about me. Warm and wet.
We kissed a few moments longer, then he left.
I cooked dinner that evening, even though it was Daddy's turn: Linguine Carbonara, one of my favorites. We chatted over dinner as usual. I just felt so great. I couldn't keep the grin off of my face.
“You're in a good mood tonight,” Daddy said. “Let me guess, you apologized to Jake.”
“Yep.” I said.
“And I take it that it went well.”
“Uh huh,” I said smugly.
We ate for a while without talking when Daddy said, “You may not have noticed it, but you're humming.”
“No I'm not. I don't hum,” I said primly. “It's not ladylike.”
Daddy laughed, then said, “You're humming. When you're not talking you alternate between a huge grin and a smug smile.”
“Well, it must be the weather,” I said. “It was a miserable, rainy morning, and it's cleared up. Who wouldn't enjoy this lovely Kansas winter?” I knew that he knew, but it was fun to joke about it.
“Uh huh,” he said doubtfully. “Want me to take a guess? I'll bet I can tell you exactly what you did this afternoon.”
“Well, you'd be wrong,” I said demurely, “Jake did come over this afternoon, but we did our Calculus homework together and discussed philosophy. Jake has the highest GPA in our class and takes his homework seriously. He's got a very large IQ, you know.”
“He showed you his large IQ?” Daddy said sardonically. “Is that what he calls it?”
“I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about, Daddy.” I said with mock offense. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll clear the dishes like a good girl.”
Daddy rolled his eyes and took his plate to the sink. “Well I'm glad you're getting some use from those birth control pills. Best money I've ever spent...”
After dinner was cleaned up, the phone rang. I was expecting Beth to call again. She had called me right after she got home, but I thought she'd probably want to tell me again exactly where Jake licked her and how it felt and ask me again precisely how it felt when Jake thrust into me, and what we talked about before and after sex. I shouldn't make it sound like Beth was annoying me with her incessant talks about the details of what we did with Jake. It was pretty much all I wanted to talk about, too. And after years of living vicariously through my sex life Beth now had a little experience of her own to share with me. It didn't matter that I'd been there the whole time. She still needed to talk about it. After all, we'd only spent fifteen or twenty minutes talking about what Jake's sperm tasted like. I'm sure we could talk about that topic alone for quite some time.
Jake told me that he was worried that Beth would get hung up on him and eventually get hurt. I didn't think that was a problem. For one thing, Beth was pretty sharp and level-headed. She knew what was going on. I could tell from the differences in the way we talked about that afternoon that I was right. We weren't exactly discussing the same thing. Beth talked about the way a dick felt in her mouth. I talked about the way Jake's dick felt in my mouth.
I answered the phone and was pleasantly surprised after I said hello, I heard, “Amy? It's Jake.”
“Jake! I'm so glad you called,” I said. I'll bet he could even hear the smile on my face.
“I had a wonderful time this afternoon.”
I giggled, which really annoyed me because I'm just not the sort of empty-headed ditz that giggles. I will laugh, chuckle, or even guffaw, but never giggle. Well, I giggled at the sound of his voice and the reminder of his afternoon inside me. My pussy was pleasantly raw – not sore, but I could feel that it had been well used recently. I liked that as well as his reminder. So I forgot for the moment that giggling wasn't my thing.
“Which time did you think was wonderful?” I said in my most seductive voice. That made up for the giggling.
He chuckled, “Both of them. I love the way you taste, also. The way you say my name when you're about to cum makes me hard just thinking about it.”
“Mmmm,” I purred, “I wouldn't mind saying your name that way again. Well, unless there was something of yours in my mouth at the time. It's not ladylike to talk when your mouth is full, you know.”
“That's just why I called.”
“You want to see if there's something I'd like to put in my mouth again? Sure. Anytime.”
“Well, not quite that, but I'm hoping we can find some time for that afterward,” he said. “I wanted to ask you if you'd have dinner with me and go to the school play tomorrow night.”
“I thought you were going with Pam,” I said.
“She canceled. She's got a dress rehearsal, so she won't have time. I'm still going with her Saturday. You're not my second choice,” Jake added quickly. “Please don't get that impression. I said yes to Pam before you broke up with John. Now that I'm free Friday night, I'd like to spend it with you.”
“You don't have to be delicate about it, Jake,” I replied. “I understand. I just wanted to know. Of course I'll go out with you. I'd love to.”
“Oh, one more thing... Since it's at school, I have to be naked at the play. I hope that's okay.”
“Not a problem,” I said. “Want me to get naked, too?”
“I always want you to get naked. It's all I can think of,” he said. Have I mentioned that Jake was the sweetest boy ever? “But it's not necessary for you to go nude. I'm sure I'll have enough trouble beating other guys away from you.”
“I'm not interested in any other guys,” I said. I didn't want to bring up that right now our relationship was a bit asymmetrical, so I quickly added “You know, you're going to see the play Saturday night, why don't we do something else and avoid the naked-at-school issue – that is until the end of the evening when I intend to rip off your clothes and see if there might be some portion of your body that I've overlooked.”
Jake replied, “You're not helping, you know. Every time I close my eyes I see you writhing beneath me. I'm going to have the hardest time getting to sleep tonight. I've got a few things that I'd like to try with you, too.”
“Poor baby,” I said, “come and see me, whenever you're having a hard time. I know a way we can get your mind off your troubles.”
Jake laughed. “But if you don't mind I really would like to go to the play. It's kind of hard to put into words, but I'd like us to go as a show of support for Pam. One reason is that I'd like to move my relationship with her to have more friendship, not so sexual. I do like her, you know. She's a very nice, interesting person when you get to know her. I think that would make things easier for us. Also, I don't think Pam has very many friends. She's got a lot of guys lusting after her, but I don't think she's got many friends.”
“I know what you mean,” I said. “She's alienated some girls in school. I think you're right that she doesn't have a lot of close friends. Okay, we'll go to the play.” Pam had lots of guys to have sex with. Maybe she'd be willing to trade a good friend for yet another sex toy, even if he was the sexiest guy in school. Maybe. I wasn't counting on it, but it was worth a try.
“Where do you want to have dinner?” I asked.
“Do you like Mexican food?” he asked. “There's this little Mexican place over by the university that's really great.”
I had to laugh. Jake was just the perfect guy for me. He even liked my favorite restaurant. Love me, love Mexican food; that's my motto.
We'd already discussed what he called me for, but neither one of us wanted to hang up. We chatted about nothing in particular for almost an hour. We had an old fashioned phone in the kitchen. Daddy wanted a phone that would work if the power went out, so we had one of those old phones with a long cord that attached the receiver to the rest of the phone hanging on the wall. I was sitting on the kitchen counter twirling the cord in my fingers and laughing at something Jake said when my father walked in.
Daddy just looked at me for a while, then shook his head and laughed. He said, “Tell Jake I said hello.” Then left the room chuckling.
I threw an oven mitt at him as he left.
Pretty soon after that Jake said something indescribably sweet as we said goodbye and hung up.
Jake asked me out! I had to call Beth. What do you wear when your date is nude? This was going to take most of the evening. It was a good thing Daddy had a cell phone. He certainly wasn't going to use our other line tonight.
I was normally the most boring, predictable guy. I'd go to school, come home, do my homework, then read a book. Sometimes I'd watch a movie. Occasionally I'd swim laps. That was it. No friends, at least not locally. No girls, at least not ones who had non-imaginary feeling for me. When I lived in Amherst, I'd gotten very good at imagining that girls had feelings for me.
The day had been wonderful. I thought that I'd finally started to get my head together and get some balance to my life. But that couldn't be further from the truth. I had no idea how off-center I was. All it took was an argument with my parents and a phone call to show me how little I knew about what I really wanted, what I really needed, and the difference between the two.
I did know my relationships weren't normal. I was already thinking of Amy as my girlfriend, so of course, I called her up to make sure it was okay that we'd go on our first date to see the other girl that I'm having sex with. I'm stunned Amy didn't dump me before our first date.
After dinner, a dinner which showed me again how abnormal my family was, I was in my room reading a book and listening to music. Actually, I was only halfheartedly trying to read the book. What I was actually doing was replaying my earlier phone conversation with Amy, remembering the look in Amy's face when orgasms wracked her body, and aimlessly fantasizing about things that suddenly weren't completely implausible.
So I wasn't doing anything especially useful when I heard a knock on my door. I yelled, “Come in.”
Shelly, being a typical teenage girl, was the family's self-appointed guardian of the phone. She walked in and handed me the phone. “It's a girl,” she said. Then, holding her hand over the microphone part, whispered, “Not Amy.”
“Hello,” I said.
“Hi Jake.” It was Pam.
“Pam! I'm glad you called. What's up?”
“Oh, just wanted to chat,” she said. “Also, I wanted to make sure you'd be there tomorrow night.”
“I'll be there. I said I would.”
“Yes, but did you get a date?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. But I'd go, even if I went by myself.”
“Amy?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, “just as you predicted, I'm taking Amy to the play.”
“I really like it that I can read you so well, Jake,” Pam said. “You're probably the most complex guy I know; it makes me feel so hot that I'm getting to know you so well that I can read you.”
“Even when it's about another girl?”
“Especially when it's another girl,” she replied. “As I told you, I'm not going to stop having sex with other guys. I want you to see other girls, too. Otherwise you'd start to resent me. But you are special. I'm getting to know you much more than any other guy. That's why I like it so much when I can see what you like, what you want, and what you need.”
“I wish I could read you the way you read me,” I said.
“I do? I don't think so.”
“Sure you do,” Pam said, softly. It almost sounded like she was admitting something she didn't like. “You know my fantasies. You know what I like. And you always seem to know what my body needs.”
I didn't know how to respond to that, so I didn't say anything.
“I've always been the one who chose when and where I'd have sex,” continued Pam. “I'd lead, and the guy would follow. You may not have noticed, but I'm following you as much as you're following me. You're the only guy who leads me into bed, Jake.”
“I'm not sure I'm leading,” I said. “When I'm around you, I can't think about anything except throwing you to the ground and fucking you. You don't want a commitment, but when we're together you own my dick. You play my body like a virtuoso.”
“Would you and Amy come backstage after the show and see me?”
“Okay... but, Pam,” I hesitated, “I'll still have to be naked. Would your parents have a problem with that?”
“No, they understand about The Program,” she said. “But it won't matter, because they won't be there.”
“They won't be there?” I was shocked. Pam had the leading role and the play was probably the most important thing in her life. “How can they not be there?”
“My stepfather is out of town on business and my mother has a tennis tournament.”
“A tennis tournament? But you've had this planned for months.”
Pam didn't say anything, so I continued, “Okay, what about your father?”
“He won't be there,” she said flatly.
“Why not?” I said. She could probably hear my outrage.
“He just won't. He's got his own family now.”
I was really pissed. What assholes. Why did so many parents seem to have something wrong with them? My parents were really odd, but they cared about Shelly and me.
“Jake?” Pam said quietly.
“I'm kind of nervous about the play tomorrow.”
“But you've done this before. You had a leading role in The Music Man last spring.”
“I was nervous before that, too. I always get a case of the nerves the night before,” she said. “Last spring, I hardly got any sleep the night before the show. I just didn't have anyone to talk about it with.”
“I saw the play,” I said. “You were a great Marian The Librarian. Some day I'd like you to put your hair up in a bun and be my naughty librarian. You were so sexy.”
“Marian The Librarian isn't sexy,” laughed Pam, “she's innocent. And I was just okay. I've been working hard on this. I think this time I can be much better than just okay.”
“Pam,” I said, “when you were dressed up as an innocent librarian, it gave me wet dreams for months afterward.”
Pam laughed. “See, you always know what I need to hear.”
“Jake,” asked Pam, without her usual self assurance, “could you come over tonight? I don't want to be alone.”
“Your parents won't mind?” They didn't seem to care that much about her, maybe they wouldn't mind.
“I don't care. I'm not going to ask them and they won't know. Park your car around the corner and come around back. My bedroom is on the first floor. I'll leave the window open.”
I didn't have to think about it very long. “Of course I'll be there Pam. It may take me about an hour, but I'll be there.” I was so pissed at her parents. I couldn't leave her alone if she needed someone.
Next item on the agenda: sneaking out to have hot sex with Pam. I was such a slimeball. I was deliriously happy that I had a date with Amy – a date? Forget that. I was deliriously happy that I had fantastic sex with Amy, after getting a blowjob from her best friend, and then getting a date with Amy. So what's the next thing I'd do? Run over to Pam's house to comfort her and fuck her senseless. I know Amy said it was all right, but really, how could I have such strong feelings for Amy and still crave sex with Pam? Especially since sex with Amy was so great. I couldn't decide if I was taking advantage of Amy, or maybe taking advantage of Pam. Even if Amy said it was okay, did that make it right? Was I going to ruin things with Amy? I knew that I was going to have to decide between them, and decide very soon.
The immediate thing I needed to decide was how I was going to get to Pam's. I could sneak out. It probably wouldn't be difficult, and I probably wouldn't get caught. Even if I did, it wouldn't be a big deal. I was the only kid I knew that didn't have a curfew. On the other hand, I didn't have a curfew because I was pretty responsible. My parents were going to have to meet Amy, and very likely Pam anyway, I suppose I should just tell them what I was up to. I was pretty sure they wouldn't stop me.
In some ways, I really envied Beth. It must be so easy to rebel against her parents, especially her father. Any time she wanted to do something her father would be against, the obvious reasoning was that he was a racist Neanderthal, so who cared what he thought? Not that Beth was the rebellious type. She had a sharp wit, but she usually kept it hidden. Pam probably got great satisfaction rebelling against her parents because they were so oblivious. That explained a lot.
It was no fun at all to rebel against my parents. For one thing, finding something that I wanted that they were opposed to was pretty rare. I suppose part of it was that I really was a geek. I wanted to get into a good college, so I never had any problems with my schoolwork or fell into other major screwup areas. Without any local friends for most of the past year I didn't have many temptations, either.
The things my parents really cared about were mostly pretty esoteric so there wasn't much opportunity for conflict. My parents didn't mind if I took girls into my room. In fact, they'd tried to bribe me into their way of thinking about moving to Kansas by promising me a bedroom away from everyone else. We lived in a rambling old Victorian house which had a round turret attached to the side. My bedroom was a large circular room at the top of a staircase, pretty far away from the rest of the house. It was a terrible bribe because I'd never had anyone to take to my room, but maybe I finally did.
The conflict with my parents that evening was kicked off, as usual, by Shelly. Shelly could be quite the little tattletale. Pretty much every time I was ever in major trouble began with Shelly's cry “Mom“ and then she'd proclaim my misdeeds. When she said “Mom” she turned it into a two-syllable word. She'd say: “Mom, Jake broke a window,” “Mom, Jake disassembled the lawnmower,” or “Mom, Jake called the rabbi a doddering numerologist.” That last one was a mixed blessing. My father, who agreed with me, raised my allowance – ostensibly for a different reason. My mother, however, made me go to extra Hebrew school over the summer to study the Kabalah (what a total waste of time reading that crap was). Mom also agreed with me, but insisted that I know what I'm talking about when I call someone an idiot.
That evening over dinner, Shelly had kicked things off, “Mom, Jake read Prufrock in class in the nude.” My mother was appalled.
I've avoided much discussion about my parents so far. My family is just too odd to be believed. My father is a mathematician. He's not the absent-minded geek that people expect. He's well read and articulate. Sometimes, though, he does insert mathematical reasoning into daily life as a surreal substitute for common sense. My mother used to be a professor of Literature before she became an administrator. She'd kept her fanatic devotion to the written word, but her advancement to upper levels of university administration occasionally gave her the impression that her authority carries over to other areas.
So Shelly deliberately lit the fuse when she said, “Mom, Jake read Prufrock in class yesterday in the nude.” Shelly was pretty crafty and sometimes a bit protective of me, even though I was older. It could be that she thought it would be better to get this particular discussion out of the way rather than have it pop up when my parents met one of my friends like Amy. On the other hand, Shelly also liked to torment me. In any case my mother was incensed.
You could never count on my parents to be angry at the right things. Having to go on The Program twice didn't bother my parents at all. My father told me, “You'll be in school for about thirty weeks per year for twelve years. That's not even counting college, graduate school, post-doc, or fellowships. If you're on the program for two weeks, rather than just one, you'll still be clothed over 99 percent of the time. It's pretty much the same.” My mother just didn't care about it.
They also didn't care about the inherent unfairness of my being singled out to read a new poem each day. Even if Larsen gave me some sham extra-credit, it was still totally lame. What the hell did I need extra credit for? There was no way I was getting anything but an A+ in that class. No, what appalled my mother was that I read Prufrock nude. She threatened to call my teacher and insist that I read it again while clothed. She wanted me to wear a twill suit, whatever that was. There was some poetry that really should be read naked and others that definitely required clothes, she said.
I was forced to account for my entire week. No, not what girls I'd had oral sex with or fucked, what poetry I'd read. My mother completely approved of my reading Howl naked. She thought it was such a good idea that maybe when they covered it in Literature classes at her university she'd insist that the entire class be naked. She also agreed that it wasn't bad reading The Lady's Dressing Room naked.
“What did you read Tuesday?” Mom asked.
“Um, Phillip Larken,” I said, “a couple of his hort poems.”
“Love Again,” I replied.
“Which one is that?” she asked. “He wrote a lot of short little poems... Was that the one about masturbating?”
“What were the other Larken poems?”
“You probably won't remember it,” I said. “It was This Be The Verse.”
She thought for a moment, “They fuck you up, your mum and dad... That one?”
“You think that your father and I have fucked you up?” Mom demanded. “Is that why you chose that poem?”
“No, I was referring to someone else's father,” I said, somewhat defensively. “But you've got to admit, that our family is somewhat odd.”
My parents just looked at me. I think they thought that it was everyone else that was odd.
“What poem are you reading tomorrow?” my mother asked.
“I haven't decided yet.”
“Jake, it's Thursday night. You don't have much time.”
“I'm thinking about My Last Duchess.”
My mother looked thoughtful for a moment. “Okay, you can read that one naked. But that's the only Browning poem you can read naked. And you can't read any Elizabeth Barrett Browning.”
“You don't want me to read any of her poems in class naked?” I repeated.
“No,” she said, “I don't want you to read any of her poems in class at all. It's nothing but overemotional garbage.”
“Well, okay,” I conceded. I hadn't been planning to read any Elizabeth Barrett Browning anyway.
It turned out that our argument over dinner actually helped me. It established with my parents that I had things under control. I don't know if that was what Shelly intended, but it made thing easier. Shelly does understand mom better than I do.
After Pam called, I went downstairs to the living room where everyone was sitting. Shelly was doing her homework and my parents were reading.
“Mom, dad, I'm going out for a while. I don't know exactly what time I'll be home, but I'll have my cell phone if you need to reach me. I have everything ready for school tomorrow, so that's not a problem.”
“What about Shelly?” Dad asked.
“I'll be home tomorrow morning in plenty of time to drive Shelly to school, as usual.”
Mom asked, “Where are you going?”
“A friend just called me. She's got some things that are troubling her and she asked me to come over.”
“Do we know her?” Mom said.
“Do you know any of my friends?”
Dad said, “Actually, we weren't sure you had any friends here. We've been worried about that.”
“I've made some friends recently. I'm going to Pam's house tonight.”
“Pam Dawson?” Shelly said. I nodded. “What about Amy?”
“I'm going out with Amy tomorrow night. I might end up bringing her home for a while. As long as I'm giving you my schedule, I'm going out with Pam Saturday. She'll probably be over here, too.”
I could see an evil glint in Shelly's eye. She was clearly planning to give me a thorough I-told-you-so the next time we were alone. That was the only downside to patching things up with Amy. I'd have to admit that Shelly was right and I was wrong. I just hated doing that. If Amy became my girlfriend, Shelly would become completely insufferable.
“Two girls, Jake?” my mother asked.
“It's not like some lame sitcom where I've got two dates for the school dance. I'm not leading anyone on, or cheating on anyone,” I said. “They both know I'm seeing the other one.”
My mother didn't say anything, she just raised her eyebrows and looked at me skeptically. I think that mom was keeping count. She was a firm feminist. I could see her insisting that Shelly sleep with at least as many guys just to prove that there was no double standard at our house.
I drove over to Pam's house and saw that the windows were all dark. I knew Pam couldn't have forgotten that I was coming over, it was her idea after all, but I couldn't help worrying. I imagined all kinds of scenarios that stemmed from getting caught sneaking in through her window: handcuffed by police, angry stepfather with shotgun defending his home, wrong window and accusations of burglary or attempted rape.
I parked around the corner and began a leisurely stroll down the sidewalk behaving the way I'd imagine someone would who was not intending to illicitly steal into any houses to ravish any daughters. I kicked myself for wearing a white tee shirt. If I was the least bit cool about this, I'd have a ninja outfit. I walked around the corner and over to Pam's yard. I nonchalantly looked around to make sure that nobody was looking at me and dove into the mulched edge of a large hedge leading along the side of the yard. I stealthily crawled along the underside of the hedge until I was well into the backyard.
Only one of the windows on the lower level led to a lit room. That was a relief. It was just as Pam described. I looked around again. All of the windows had curtains, including the window to the room with lights. I didn't think anyone could see me without moving the curtains aside. I walked beneath the lit window. The window was on the first level, but it was a good four feet over my head. I whispered as quietly as I could, “Pam, it's me, Jake.” Nothing happened. Of course, moron, if you whisper as quietly as you can, it's pretty hard for someone in another room to hear you. I worried that if I spoke louder, I'd wake her parents.
I was clearly not meant for cloak-and-dagger. I was the Nice Jewish Boy that always rang the doorbell and shook hands with the girl's parents. I was the tame, responsible guy who could always be counted on to do the correct, safe thing. I certainly had never attempted to break-and-enter into someone's house before. I would never be James Bond. I would be James Bond's accountant.
I looked around and saw some pebbles lying on the ground and scooped them up. The trick, I thought, is to toss them hard enough for Pam to hear against the glass, but for god's sake, not so hard that the glass would break. I aimed carefully and tossed the entire handful. A few of them hit the side of the house, but most of them were right on target. I'd neglected to notice that the window was open.
Pam's head stuck out of the window and she said, “Hey! You're getting gravel all over my floor.”
I looked around and saw a wrought iron lawn chair. I tried to pick it up. It must have weighed 200 pounds. I ended up dragging it over beneath Pam's window. I saw the grooves I was making into the grass. That would take the guys on CSI about three seconds to figure out. I visualized the computer animation of a stick-figure perpetrator dragging a chair that they'd put on the show.
Standing on the chair, the window was only a few inches above my reach. I jumped, grabbed the bottom of the window, and hauled myself into the room.
Pam wrapped her arms around me and gave me a very welcoming kiss.
“Thanks for coming over, Jake,” she said. “I really didn't want to be alone tonight.”
She led me over to her bed. We sat and kissed for a while. Pam looked up at me; she looked soft and vulnerable. I stroked her hair and kissed her again. Pam broke off the kiss.
“I'm kind of thirsty,” she said. “Can I get you something to drink? I plan on keeping you here for quite a while.”
“Sure. Soda, water, anything.”
Pam left the room, closing the door behind her. A few minutes later she came back to her room with two glasses.
“Hey,” I said, “We need to be more careful. Your parents could have seen you. How would you explain why you needed two glasses?”
“That's not a problem,” Pam said. “My parents aren't home.”
“Your parents aren't home?” I repeated blankly.
“Nope. My stepfather is out of town and my mom's out playing bridge.”
There was something pretty fundamental that I was missing.
“So why did I have to climb through the window? Why didn't you just let me in the front door?”
Pam laughed, “'Cause it's so much more fun and romantic this way, silly. Haven't you always wanted to sneak in through your lover's bedroom window? Of course, if you had half a clue, you'd have stood beneath my window to serenade me. You clod.”
“Right,” I snorted. “If you heard my singing, you'd never have let me in.”
Sex that evening was different than any other time we'd been together. It wasn't hot and passionate. There weren't any games. I stroked into Pam slowly and steadily. She gazed up at me and smiled. We kissed. Pam closed her eyes as a gentle orgasm rippled across her body. Eventually we urged each other faster and harder. Pam cried out and held me tight. I spent myself inside her.
We didn't really separate after we'd finished. I just slid to her side so we were still holding each other, but my weight wasn't on her. I didn't feel the emotional ties that I felt with Amy, but I felt very close to Pam, very protective.
“Jake, would you spend the night, please?” Pam asked.
“Sure, but can you set your alarm clock for five am? I have to get home in time to take my little sister to school.”
Pam nodded, set her alarm clock, and turned off the lights. She snuggled up against me and threw her leg over mine.
“I'm glad you're here tonight,” Pam whispered. “And I'm also glad you'll be there tomorrow night.”
“I wouldn't miss it for anything, Pam.”
It took me quite a while to fall asleep in that strange house, in Pam's bed. Pam felt warm and soft, but I wasn't used to sleeping with anyone, so I felt a little constricted. I was more confused than ever about what I felt for Pam and Amy. It was soothing lying there with Pam draped over me, breathing softly and gently, smelling like balsam and sex. I'd never enjoyed lying awake more.
I wasn't able to relax completely. My problem was that Amy had tied ropes around my heart while Pam had a leash around my dick. I felt the pull from both.