Tuesday, April 28, 2009

The Post-Sophomore Summer Begins

Let’s see, Sherman, where was I?

Oh yeah, finishing up my sophomore year at college and it was all study, study, study. Other than my school work I was studying Linda’s lean frame and Julia’s decidedly rounder aspects. I wish I could report that all was debauchery and merriment but the truth is that Linda and I went from some occasional fucking to me sitting around watching her get high while I drank a beer. That was usually followed by a walk somewhere for something to eat. A bowl of chili at the Big Boy went for 50 cents and when Linda was stoned she lost her worship of the organic and liked a bowl of that stuff. Go figure. I still went over to her apartment by the record store from time to time but my desire faded the more she became devoted to herbs. Before the end of the school year we slipped to a state of friends without benefits—although that phrase was still years away. The terminology of the day was more like, “Hey, Wil, you still ballin’ that hippie chick?” “Nah, we just hang out at and rap.” The very thought of this makes me sad for my generation. While we thought it was all "heavy, man" it was actually lame. Seriously, I should have just kept railin' her. Idiot.


Julia on the other hand was great fun. Nothing but great big fun right through to the last day of final exams. Now I didn’t realize it at the time, mainly because I didn’t know certain things about myself, but Julia was a natural submissive. She had a bubbly, friendly personality. A great sense of style. She smelled great and always looked her best. Her family was apparently very wealthy and politically connected. She loved being a submissive to me. And… she had great big titties.


How the hell did I let her get away?


Funny you should ask. The school year ended and we were still getting along well enough. Which is shorthand for she was blowing me every chance she got—and I made sure she got as many chances as humanly possible. Julia was insistent that we get together over the summer. I wasn't fighting it, but she lived about a two and a half hour drive away. When I got back home after school ended I went straight back to work at the chemical plant for the second of three summers. I couldn’t take time off from work, which Julia never seemed to understand. Towards the end of June I agreed to come over to visit her on a Saturday. They were having some sort of thing at “their club” and she wanted me to attend. Now I wasn’t a complete bonehead, I knew that meant a country club, but I had never set foot at such a place except as an employee. In high school I had worked as a gardener on an estate and I was far more at ease weeding the formal gardens than sipping lemonade poolside.


I’ll make this short because it was painful—I was the pair of brown shoes with a tuxedo my entire day at “the club.” Years later I was quite able to hobnob with the elite but I was out of my element that day. Julia assured me I had done fine, but I knew that her parents were quite disappointed with scruffy, out-of-place me. So, over the summer that all fell apart. I saw her from time to time over the next two years at school and there were a few times where I considered taking another run at her. But it seemed for the best at the time that it ended.


I wasn’t complaining because Sharon had shown up on the radar the first day I went to work that summer at the chemical plant.


Yes, Sharon.


And what an absolutely delightful bit of hell that girl was.