Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Nothin' Good on TV

I got to Mona’s house at 6:30 Wednesday and found that her homemade dinner was running late. She had been delayed at work and got home later than planned. It was no big problem, she wasn’t making anything elaborate. I helped out in the kitchen and we were sitting down to eat by 7:30. The wine, a bottle of burgundy, was more to my liking this time. It was nearly eight o’clock when we finished dinner. Mona said we should just leave the dishes and go to the living room with our wine. Sounded good to me. We sat on the couch, drank a little, and soon started kissing. After a few minutes she pulled back and said she wanted to freshen up. It had been hot at work… she had raced home… cooked dinner… she felt like she needed to get cleaned up a bit. Fine with me.

I watched her go towards the hallway bathroom. She was wearing a black skirt, beige sweater, and heels. It struck me that she always looked good. Even on that long drive to Louisville in her Camaro last year she looked good. Part of it was natural, but part of it was attention to detail. I heard the shower go on and figured she might be a while. I turned on the little TV perched on a shelf in the living room. Little House on the Prairie—hmmm, no. Some drama show about a broken family on another channel--- keep lookin’. That’s My Mama on the other station—I don’t think so. Wednesday night wasn’t good for TV I guess. No Sanford & Son… no Odd Couple…no Bob Newhart. Oh well. I shut it off. I looked for something to read but there weren’t any books in the room. Some magazines were on the cocktail table. Vogue had a cover photo of Bianca Jagger. Might be something worth reading. I flipped through it and it was mostly ads. Pretty ads, but nothing to hold my interest for long. An out-of-date TV Guide with a story about a young actor, Michael Douglas, in a show with Karl Malden. I read enough to know he wasn’t the son of Mike Douglas the talk show host—he was Kirk’s boy. Hell, the show wasn’t even on yet.

Finally, about a half hour after she disappeared, Mona came back in the living room. She was wearing the short, blue, satin robe she had worn back in Louisville that Saturday morning. It had given me a hard-on back then and it hadn't lost any of its magical powers in the intervening months. It just barely covered her ass. She came up to me, leaned over, and gave me a kiss.
“Sorry that took so long, sweetie… I feel a thousand times better though,” she said.
“Good. You smell great, that’s for sure… and you look even better,” I said.
“Thanks sweetie. Let’s not stay out here, OK?” she said.

And off we went to her bedroom. Just like Sunday night it was clean and clutter-free. A couple of nightlights plugged in the wall gave it a warm glow. The bed was turned down and looked very inviting. We stood and kissed standing next to the bed. I had her sit on the edge with her bare feet on the carpeted floor. I gathered up all four pillows and piled them behind her back. I slid the robe out from under her so she wasn’t sitting on it, pulled the belt loose, and opened it. She was wearing dark colored lace panties but no bra. I got on the floor in front of her and slid the panties off, tossing them on the bed as she reclined into the pillows. I spread her knees apart with both hands, then I moved closer and put my finger tips on both sides of the center line of her thick, dark bush.

It strikes me that there could be young men reading this who have been engaging in cunnilingus for over a decade and have never confronted anything resembling a natural pussy. Now I don’t want to sound like the old guy who talks about having to walk five miles to and from school, uphill both ways, every day, but eating pussy is a lot better with today’s feminine grooming styles. I’m sure that Mona, and millions of other girls back then, used scissors to make sure they didn’t have stray pubic hairs peeking out from their bikini bottoms in the summer. But there wasn’t much trimming done beyond that. In fact, if I had removed Mona’s lacy undies and found a smooth bald pussy I would have been shocked and probably would’ve asked her what was wrong. Even the landing strip look wasn’t around when I was “dating” Mona. So, when I say I put my fingers in the center of her thick, dark bush I mean I was on a search mission for the treasure I knew was there, but well hidden.

I parted her lips with my fingers and ran my tongue along both sides of her opening. I tongue-teased her from south to north and back again. Over and over again. I could taste her juices and knew she was warming up to my advances. It was the first time I had eaten her and I was taking my good, sweet time. I knew from Sunday night that she liked rough fucking and she could handle a helluva lot of cock pounding, but that didn’t mean she didn’t like to have some oral attention too.

I sucked on her outer lips until they were full, crimson, and swollen. I slid the middle finger of my right hand in, palm up so I could curl it and work it along the front wall inside her warmth. With a finger in her I concentrated my lips and tongue on the north end of her opening. All along Mona had let me know how things were working out with her moans and groans and sighs and gasps. When I got on her hot button with my mouth she pulled her knees back towards her head. With my left hand I pressed her right knee even further back. I pulled my finger out and then went right back in with two fingers, twisting inside of her as I lapped, sucked, and nibbled at her just above where my fingers were buried inside her. She put her right hand on top of my left and put her left hand in my hair—pulling me into her. She was panting, and begging for hard cock, but I wasn’t about to stop eating her.

Then I felt a wave go through her. It was like she had given herself over to something. A shudder, and then her hand let go of my hair and I lightened the tongue and mouth pressure while still working my fingers in and out of her—twisting in her with three fingers as far as I could go now. Then her hips bucked a bit, she pushed at my hand and I pulled my fingers out of her wet cunt.

I pulled myself up onto the bed next to her and flopped on my back. I was hard from it all. She rolled over against me and put her hand on my chest.
“Fuck. I never get off from that. Damn.”
“You liked it?” I said.
“Fuck yeah.”
“Good,” I said.

My erection was starting to go away. I didn’t think that was a good idea. I got up and collected two of the pillows and put one on top of the other a foot or so from the edge of the bed. Then I got Mona off her side and put her face down with the pillows under her tummy. She figured out where it was going and raised up a bit on her knees. I moved her a bit to make sure her pussy was reachable with me standing next to the bed. She put her hands on the bed and raised up a bit. I reached forward and took her right wrist and pulled it behind her back. I did the same with her left. Then I pinned both wrists against the small of her back with one hand while I grabbed her panties off the bed. Using the panties as a short rope I bound her wrists tightly together.
This maneuver had caused me to reacquire my hard-on and I quickly buried that dick into her pussy. In one stroke my balls were up against that thick, natural bush.

I pushed down on her lower back to tilt everything just right and then I flat-out jack-hammered that hot snatch.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Hey! What if...?

Mona was on her knees in front of me. With her right hand wrapping my cock she had put her left on her bare ass. The view from above was spectacular. She was working magic on my cock and the last thing I wanted was to shoot my first load so early. I pulled her away and fell back into the big overstuffed chair. She immediately popped up onto the ottoman, got on her knees, leaned down and went back to stroking and sucking. I got her hair in both hands and gathered it up until none of it was falling down. I had it all pulled up into a topknot in my left hand. I didn’t push her down onto my dick or pull her off it. I just had it all up out of the way so I could watch her mouth on my hard cock. There is no better sight on earth for a guy than seeing your own stiff rod being worked on by a beautiful woman. Her oral skills were prodigious. She was so good at sucking dick that I, again, worried about an early cumshot.

I didn't want it to stop, but finally I pushed her up and off my cock. I stood up.
“Get on the bed,” I said.
She moved over onto her bed and got on her back with her ass at the edge and her legs open.
“No. Flip over,” I said.
She turned over and started to move across the bed away from me. I grabbed her just above the hips with both hands and jerked her back to the edge of the bed. She put her feet on the floor and stretched her arms across the bed with her head turned to one side so her nose wasn’t against the sheets.

I slipped a few inches of cock into her pussy. She was warm and slippery.
I gave her ass a hard smack with my open right hand. Then the other cheek got it from my left. Her butt was taut and firm. I slid the rest of my dick into her and leaned forward putting my left hand down on the bed. I got her long black hair wrapped around my right hand and pulled her head off the bed. Her hands were grasping at the bedspread as I ground into her from behind. I got into her just as deep as I could get.
“Oh gawd… do me hard you nasty fucker…” came a low growl from deep in Mona’s throat.
I backed it out slowly until just the head of my cock was still inside her soaked cunt. After a pause to take a good look at this beautiful woman I drove it all back in with one solid stroke.

We went at each other for the next few hours including a few breaks to catch our breath. She was absolutely the wildest fuck I'd had up to that point in my life. I chalked it up to her advanced age and experience.
It was nearly time for me to go home and we were reclined next to each other in Mona’s bed, spent.
“You should come over Wednesday night. I’ll make us dinner,” she said.
“OK,” I said, “What time?”
“Make it six-thirty.”
“Wil, this was great tonight. Thanks for coming over. I think we’re a good fit,” Mona said.
I didn’t know what all she meant by that but I agreed that certain parts fit together real well over the past few hours. I assured her that the pleasure had been mine.

On the drive back to my parents' house I was reviewing the events of the evening. The way she looked and smelled... the sweet red wine and her dope stash from Chet... what she said before we went to her bedroom... and the amazing time spent in that bedroom. It was a nicer drive away from Mona’s house than the one back in December. But then a new thought passed through my brain. I had never considered this before, but what if Mona had set up the whole ski trip and party in December to break up Sharon and me? I rolled everything around in my brain as I drove. I tried to remember everything that had happened and everything that had been said. I decided that it was very smug to think she'd do that. But then again, she had just sucked and fucked me within an inch of my young life, so maybe I had a right to flatter myself? Nah. In the end I couldn’t reach any conclusion, but I did realize that it was entirely plausible that nothing back in December had been just exactly as I thought it had been.

I wasn’t upset. I wasn’t angry. In fact, it amused me. One thing I knew for sure, I was having a better spring break than if I had gone to Florida with the crowd. A helluva lot better.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

A Darkened Room

I stepped into the bedroom and leaned back against the door jamb. The bed was turned down. The only lights on were two plug-in nightlights that cast a warm glow in the room. Her scent was evident as soon as you passed through the door. She had prepared for this. I looked around her bedroom and then at her. She had her back to me. Long, straight, black hair, print blouse, light blue miniskirt, white heels, white bracelet. How did I miss that her shimmering white hose were gone? She must have shed them when she took her bra off during her time in the bathroom. I hadn’t missed the bra being gone, but the stockings were a lot more visible and I had completely missed their absence. What else was I missing?

She turned to face me. Her blouse was unbuttoned all the way now. I wasn’t scared, but I was nervous. Plenty nervous. If Mona had said the wrong thing right then I might not have made it. But she did the right thing. Her instincts were perfect-- it wasn't time to challenge me, it was time to make me comfortable. She came to where I was leaning against the door frame and put her hands up on my shoulders. I had left my jacket out in the living room. She moved her hands over my chest and eventually she found her way to my waist. She untucked the Henley shirt and moved her hands back over my skin until she was back at my chest. Then Mona put her head on my chest.
“I think it’s sweet that your heart’s beating so hard,” she said quietly.

I kissed the top of her head. My hands were on her waist. She pulled my shirt up. I helped take it off and tossed it on the floor. She kissed my bare chest. Her tongue played with my nipples as her hands ran across my skin. Then her hands were on my back, holding me close as she kissed my chest... and then my neck... and finally my mouth. We kissed hungrily. I pushed her back slightly and slid her blouse off. Her nipples were hard, dark, and pronounced. I took her left breast in my right hand from underneath, squeezed it up and leaned in. I sucked her nipple, tongued it, flicked it. I opened my mouth wide and took most of her breast into my mouth, the thick of my tongue rubbing on her nipple. I did the same to her other breast. Her head was back, her eyes closed when I snapped a quick slap across her left tit with my right hand. Her eyes popped open. I slapped her firm tit again from the side, slightly from beneath. It was a glancing shot that got all of her big nipple. Next it was the right side with my left hand. She had a smirk on her face as she said, “I knew you were a nasty fucker….”

“Shut up, Mona,” I said.
I put my left hand behind her neck under her hair, gripped her firmly, and walked her over near the only chair in the room—an overstuffed, low, wide chair with a matching ottoman. Still holding her by the back of the neck I undid the button on the back of her tight little skirt, unzipped it, and pushed it down over her hips. It fell to the floor. Not only had she gotten rid of her hose earlier she had taken off her panties too. She stood there, her skirt on the floor surrounding her high heels, with nothing else on but makeup, perfume, a necklace, and some bracelets. I took my time slapping, squeezing and tugging her breasts. I handled her nipples very roughly-- the sounds that escaped her throat told me I was on the right track. I turned her so her back was to me and looked at her bare ass. Mona really was a beauty. I wasn't sure why she wanted to spend any time with me, but she had made it clear what she expected and I sure as hell wasn't going to go limp on her. At least that was my plan. A plan that I was making up on the fly.

I took my hand from the back of her neck and got her firmly by the hair. I had her at arm’s length so I could take in the view. I tilted her head back so she was looking at her bedroom ceiling. With my free hand I gave her a firm crack across the right ass cheek. She gasped. I backhanded the left cheek. Another gasp.
“Turn around,” I said.
She turned to face me and as she did her hair wrapped more tightly around my left fist.
I put my right hand on her shoulder and pushed down. She knew it was time for her to get on her knees.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Tightly Rolled

I got home for spring break week Friday night. Saturday afternoon I went out to see some buddies. First, however, I stopped at a pay phone and called Mona’s house. There was no answer. I hung out at a friend’s house for a few hours listening to records and getting caught up. On the way back home I stopped at the same pay phone and tried Mona’s house again. This time she was there. She sounded quite happy to hear from me. I asked if perhaps I had imagined or dreamed her call inviting me over… or that maybe she had been really drunk and had a “what have I done?!?” moment the day after she called. She assured me that she had called, wasn’t overly drunk, and definitely had no regrets for inviting me over. She expected me to be at her place the next evening. I told her I’d be right on time.

And, the next evening, there I was ringing her doorbell at exactly the appointed hour. I’m a punctual kind of fellow. Mona opened the door and I was slightly surprised by the way she looked. Her hair was longer, straight, and she had dyed it jet black. She was wearing dark eye makeup and her lips looked sort of frosted. I guess I was used to college girls in jeans, sweaters, and no makeup. She was about four or five years older than me and had been an office worker for about eight years already. I mean, she was a grown-up, not a college kid.

Now remember, this was the mid-70’s and fashions for working women had taken an ill-advised turn to man-made materials and pantsuits with wide flared legs. Mona was wearing a robin’s egg blue jacket with a matching short skirt. It was made of some sort of polyester I guess but the miniskirt made it work for me. Her hose were a sort of shimmering white and they went all the way down to a pair of white high heels. She had a print shirt in some shiny fabric with a huge collar that extended over the jacket lapels. She also had white earrings, and bracelets. I commented on how good she looked—very Springlike. (Oh, me? I was wearing a nice pair of blue jeans, boots, a dark brown Henley shirt and a tweedy sport coat that I had gotten at an estate sale. Classy!)

She had new living room furniture, an “L” shaped sectional sofa deal, and she invited me to have a seat. I watched her walk out to the kitchen and I thought my heart might pop out of my chest it was beating so hard. When she was asking me what I wanted to drink about all I could think of was how the edge of her white bra was visible when she stood a certain way and her shirt, unbuttoned one button too far, stood away a bit. The only other thing I could think of was “don’t stare at her tits you fuckin’ moron.”

Mona brought out two glasses of red wine and sat down to my left around the bend of the “L” and we both tasted the wine. It was way too sweet for my tastes but I wasn’t about to complain. It was what she liked to drink after all. We had a nice conversation-- both of us seemed to be trying to avoid talking about Sharon and her sister. On the way over the thought had crossed my feeble mind that Sharon and her sister were about the only thing Mona and I had in common. That thought had made me consider the notion that I’d be there about twenty minutes before we both figured out that whatever we were doing together wasn’t going to work out very well. But, actually, the conversation never lagged. She was interested in lots of stuff I could talk about and I was interested in her work, her family, how she decided to dye her hair black and so on. What the hell, we were getting along. It was going very well, and so was the wine. I still didn’t like the taste of it but I did like the slight buzz from it. The next thing I knew she had brought the bottle out and poured the last of it into our glasses. We had knocked off that bottle pretty quickly and I reasoned that maybe she was a bit nervous too when we had started out. I think we were both at ease now, however.

Mona opened up a carved wooden box on the square cocktail table in front of us and took out a tightly rolled joint.
“Care to join me?” she asked.
I shook my head.
“Nah, I’m alright. But feel free,” I said.
She fired it up, drew in a lungful and held it a long time while I sipped some wine.
“Doesn’t everybody at your college get high?” she asked.
“Pretty much. I’m not against it or anything. Just don’t do it often,” I said.
She smiled and took a second hit.
“I hadn’t smoked in years but Chet gets this really good shit and gives me some,” she said.
"Interesting, I thought, "Chet's still in the picture."

She held it out to me and grinned.
I shrugged, took it from her and tried it.
“Careful sweetie. It’s creeper weed. It sneaks up on you,” she said.
I passed it back, she took a third deep toke, and gave it back to me.
“I’ll be back in just a bit, OK?” she said.
“OK,” I said.
As she went down the hallway I knew she had gone into the bathroom from the sound of her heels suddenly clicking on the tiled floor as she stepped off the carpeted hallway. I put out what was left of the roach and left it on the edge of a heavy glass ashtray, finished my wine, and slouched back on the couch. I had a good feeling about how things were going and my wariness about coming to visit Mona was completely gone.

She came back in the living room after what seemed fifteen minutes. Then again, it might have been five minutes and the creeper had kicked in. As she walked towards me I noticed that she had taken off her jacket. She came up to where I was sitting, right where the sections of the sofa met. I looked up at her and could tell she had re-applied her lipstick, brushed her hair, and her perfume was more noticeable than before.

“Scooch over, sweetie,” she said as she bumped her leg against mine to show me which direction I should be scooching. Sitting low in the sofa I was about eye level with her thighs. (They looked very nice, by the way.) I sat up as I moved over a foot or so and reached up to put my left hand on her waist to guide her down next to me. As she tumbled into the sofa cushion, right up against me, I put my left arm around her shoulders. She turned into me and our lips met without any hesitation. It was gentle. A nice long, soft, first kiss. We broke and looked into each other’s eyes. I hoped she wanted more of that. I moved slightly towards her and she met me more than half way. This time the kiss was probing and hungry.
My right hand went to her shiny smooth blouse and slid up from the belt on her skirt until I felt her left breast. Her nipple felt as big and hard as a cat's-eye marble through the rayon. Our tongues were dancing and darting together, my left hand holding the back of her head as I undid two more buttons and got a handful of her firm, bare breast with my right. When she was in the bathroom she had taken her bra off.
“Now I know what took you so long in the bathroom,” I said, my lips just inches from hers.
“I like the way that feels,” she said.
We started kissing again but were both grinning so much we just bumped our teeth together. Which made us both laugh. But we got back to kissing, and I got back to playing with her bare tits in short order. After a lot of kissing and groping Mona shifted around until she was almost facing me. She pushed me into the back of the sofa and wrapped her arms around my neck. She put her left cheek against mine and said quietly in my ear, “That little bitch used to confide in me, Wil... she told me everything you guys did. I know the first time you fucked her was in this room on the floor in front of the sliding door... she told me about every time you two fucked... I now about her sucking you off in the parking lot when you left her at the dance club. She told me so much about your dick sometimes I think I’ve already sucked it.”

“I’m certain you haven’t,” I said.

“Not yet. But I'm going to. When we were all in Lousiville that first night I heard you two fucking like animals in the next room… it drove me sooo crazy… I wanted this big cock so much that night Wil.” Her left hand had found its way to my jeans and she was rubbing me through the denim. “She always talked about how nice you treated her… and then she fucked you over anyway…"

I didn't really need to hear any more about Sharon. But I sure as hell wanted to bone Mona at this point-- even if she was going to be disappointed since Sharon had exaggerated so much.

"Wil, not every girl wants to be treated too nice all the time.”
“No?” I said.
“No. Some of us like it real fucking rough some times. Some of us like to have our ass spanked. We like a guy who tells us what to do in the bedroom. Some times we need to have our hair pulled and a hard dick rammed in us from behind."
“Yeah?” I said. "I've heard stories about stuff like that. Ya know, it kinda sounds like you're talking about yourself, Mona."

"Can you handle that, Wil?"

"I think I can handle you, Mona," I said.

She stood up and led me down the hall to her bedroom. I wasn't worried. I'd always been a quick study.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

I Answered The Phone

We made the trip to that big college town up north the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Our favorite drinking establishment there was a funky little bar with live music and a nice mix of townies and college students. Given that school was out there were more locals and fewer students this time. The place was set-up with long tables so, unless you were with a group of eight, you sat with people you didn’t know. There were four of us and we were put at a table with four girls. It turned out that they were all friends with one another and two of them actually came from a town about ten minutes from where we lived.

We were all getting along pretty well, having a few drinks and a chuckle or two, when one of my pals decided to tell the girls the story of my experience with Sharon and the Christmas Party at Mona’s. I didn’t find it entirely amusing to have that embarrassing tale told but it was all part of the drill with the guys—we never gave each other a break. All four of the girls, hearing what happened that night, agreed that I had gotten involved with a cunning stunt. One of the four, Ronnie, had my full attention all evening. I was hoping for a good rebound, ya know? Several weeks later I would find out that one of them, Ann, had her full attention on me. But I’ll get to that tale later.

Once I was back at school I dug in for another term of hard study and easy living in my cool apartment way outside of town. One of the electives I was taking was a creative writing class. I figured that it wouldn’t hurt a Radio/TV major to be able to write better. The professor was a great guy who believed that the best way to learn how to write was to actually write, not just talk about it. So we wrote tons of stuff and then we critiqued everything we wrote in class. It turned out there was an absolutely outrageous character in that class, a sophomore girl called Sparkle. Her real name was the same as a famous TV comedienne but everyone knew her by her nickname. Of course, her nickname wasn’t Sparkle, that’s her “Crack The Whip” name, but her real nickname was something similarly flashy. There’s going to be a lot to write about Sparkle soon, and Ann too for that matter. Alas we won’t be writing about Ronnie (that’s her real name, too, not her CTW name) since she found it easier to just reject my advances than to go out with me and dump me later.

But first, let’s close up a loose end… or cauterize a bleeding wound...

Zipping forward a couple months to early March, I was sitting at my kitchen table studying around 10 o’clock on a weeknight when the phone rang. It was Mona. I hadn’t heard her voice since the night I walked out of her house back in December but it was instantly recognizable to me—even if she sounded like she’d been drinking a little. I was wary. Mona had always been nice to me but it was at her house that Sharon had dropped her bomb on me so I had trouble trusting Mona completely.

I asked her outright if she was calling on behalf of Sharon as I wanted nothing to do with her. She said that not only was she not calling me on her behalf but that she had fallen out of favor with Sharon’s sister and no longer talked to either one of them. This certainly piqued my interest. I started to ask her about what had happened but she said she’d rather tell me later—it upset her too much. She got to the reason for her call.

“Wil, are you going to be up this way over spring break?”
“I guess so. I can’t afford to go to Florida or anything,” I said.
“Good. Ummm, do you think we could get together when you’re home?”
And, like a stone effing idiot I actually said, “Why?”

Mona laughed and said, “I just thought it'd be fun to see you again.”
“OK. Sure,” I said.
“When do you get home?” Mona asked.
“Friday night,” I said.
“Cool. Why don’t you come over here Sunday night, say about seven?”
“OK. There won’t be a big party going on, will there?” I said with a laugh.
“No, sweetie, I’ll be here all alone.”

I hung up, got an Old Chicago out of the refrigerator and plopped back onto the chair at the kitchen table.
“Hoooleey Fuucckkk,” I said to my empty apartment.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Pause For Music

I have thrown out, given away, or sold thousands of vinyl LP's from my collection over the past fifteen years or so. But I still own hundreds of those black slabs-- a few hundred I can't part with that sound so good even with a few pops and clicks.. Of course I also have a bunch of CD's and one of these days, I swear, I just might download some tunes too.

You might say I enjoy music. Through the tales I've related here I mention a few artists I like and a few I don't. But the other day it dawned on me that I've never mentioned the musician whose albums and CD's make up more of my collection than any other. Nope, I've never mentioned this great:

No, not The Lace Panty Girls knucklehead!
Look closer...

That's better.

Although, Miles probably would've liked this fresh, young artist too, come to think of it...

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Ski Bums

Mona’s driveway was full of cars and there were many more than usual parked on the street also. As I walked up to her front door the noise from the party was unmistakable. It was 8:30. I wasn’t late according to when Sharon said I should arrive. But it was pretty clear the party was several drinks ahead of me. There wasn’t any reason to ring the bell or knock—I just walked in. The living room was packed with people I’d never seen before. Mona’s co-workers, I imagined. A few looked at me. A few even smiled. I scanned around looking for Sharon, or Mona, or anyone I knew.

From just past the foyer I could see the kitchen. Sharon was sitting on a bar stool at the counter with her back to me. She had a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Some guy I didn’t know was facing her, his right forearm on the counter, his big mug about two feet from Sharon’s face. His eyes were locked on her as she talked and laughed. I thought he might drool on her. Standing next to "Biff" was another guy I didn’t know talking to a beautiful girl. I didn’t quite understand the scene in front of me. The noise in the living room kept me from hearing anything coming from the kitchen. The beautiful girl in front of the sink looked at me. It was Mona. Suddenly she realized who she was looking at and a look very near horror flashed across her face. She excused herself and came hurrying towards me. Sharon never turned around on her bar stool.

“Wil! It’s great to see you, sweetie! I didn’t know you were coming,” Mona said.
I looked puzzled I’m sure.
“Sharon invited me. Didn’t she tell you?”
Mona glanced towards the kitchen and said she must have forgotten.
“Here, let me introduce you to some of my work friends… and, uh, I’ll show you where to put your coat,” Mona said.
She led me to the hallway to the bedrooms.
“Who the hell are the guys in the kitchen, Mona?”
“It’s not what it looks like, sweetie. They’re just a couple of guys who we’re going skiing with tomorrow so I invited them to the party,” Mona said.
I could feel the blood coming up in my neck and head.
I must have been turning red.
Mona got between me and the kitchen in her hallway.
“Sweetie, I didn’t know Sharon invited you. She never told me. I don’t know what’s going on with her but please, please don’t blow up here!” she was pressed up to me and whispering—loudly over the crowd noise.
“I work with these people, Wil. I can’t have them talking about the Christmas Party that turned into a brawl,” Mona said.
I nodded and walked out the front door without a glance at the kitchen.
I had left my car on the street about a block away. I was pretty sure Sharon wouldn’t be chasing me down the street to jump in and give me a blowjob like Thanksgiving weekend.

I drove around until about 11PM. I went from furious, to angry, to pissed, to finally something close to humiliation. I pictured Sharon getting up in front of the crowd in the living room and, after quieting them down, saying:

“You may have seen a guy here a few minutes ago. He wasn’t a party crasher. He was just some loser I used to go out with for the past four months. (The assembled party-goers went "ahhhh" in sympathy for the poor girl.) Well, he’s gone now and won’t bother us anymore. Meanwhile I want to introduce you to Biff who is taking me skiing this weekend. And by skiing I mean we’re going to play in the snow for an hour or two and the other 46 hours he’ll be fucking me six ways to Sunday. Thank you for your attention. Party on!”

Fuck. I hated parties as much as I hated skiing.
I stopped at my favorite tavern and pool hall to see if anyone was around. Nobody I knew. I called my buddy John on the pay phone. A half hour later he was sitting there having a beer with me. I told him the whole story—except the imagined monologue from Sharon.

“I don’t know what to make of that Billy boy,” he said.
I nodded.
“Seems like there are nicer ways to dump a guy than to rub his nose in the new boyfriend. Hold it, that didn’t come out right,” he said.
“It’s OK. I got the point,” I said.
“On the bright side, this frees you up to make a run up north with us next week.”
(A “run up north” was a trip to one of the biggest college towns in the country about an hour or so north of us.)
“School’s out. Things will be dead up there,” I said.
“There’s always something going on there, dipshit. Besides, you got sumpthin’ better to do? Hey, why don’t you go back over there and have Biff and his buddy beat you to a pulp. Then we can come see you in the hospital instead of going up north when school’s out, asshole.”
He had a good point.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009


The trip back to school Monday was an adventure. The snow and ice made things treacherous on the highway. The atmosphere inside the car was chilly too since Sharon couldn’t understand why I didn’t just tell Penny that there wasn't room to take her along. We finally made it to Sharon’s campus and had a brief good bye at the front door of her sorority house. Penny, who hadn’t had much to say on the trip so far was chatty the rest of the way.

The two weeks of classes and exams between Thanksgiving weekend and Christmas break flew by. I got one letter from Sharon during that period. That’s the problem with sending someone a letter nearly every day when a romance is young—it’s noticeable when the correspondence falls off. I suppose the same is true about texting, e-mails, IM’s, tweets, Facebook befriending or whatever Facebookers do with each other, and so on. But back then it was either letters or long distance phone calls and I could barely afford stamps let alone telephone calls. In the one letter I did get Sharon was very upbeat and looking forward to getting together over the break. She wanted me to call her when I got back home. No problem, I was looking forward to seeing her too.

The morning after I got back to my parents’ house for Christmas break I gave Sharon a call and we went out to a movie that night. She was excited about a ski trip with Mona “and some other people” that weekend and wanted me to come. I had a family-oriented conflict for the weekend in question. She seemed genuinely disappointed. I was too, but not because I was a big fan of skiing. Snow is best experienced through a window or in a painting. Sliding down a mountain on a pair of waxed slats isn’t a sport I have ever appreciated sufficiently. My preferred orientation is more equatorial than arctic.

The next afternoon Sharon called and asked if I could make it to a party at Mona’s the night before their ski outing. It was a Christmas Party Mona was throwing for her work friends. That sounded like it might be fun. She said to meet her at Mona’s house at 8:30PM Friday—she was going over earlier to help out with party preparations. No problem—my car knew the way to Mona’s house.

Yep, this would be a fun party. Nothing bad has ever happened at an office Christmas Party, right?

Monday, October 5, 2009

November Snow

As we drove away from the dance club it began to snow. It was a heavy, wet snow and was coming down in giant flakes. I had no idea where to go next-- hell, the blood was just beginning to get back to my cranium. Sharon suggested we go over near her parents’ house. So I drove that way, my little two-seater fishtailing all the way. When we got to the country club community where she lived she gave me directions to a place where we could park out of view from the road. We sat in the car with the lights off and the engine and heater running, watching the snow come down in the ambient light.

My car had bucket seats but no console so Sharon turned her back to me, stretched out as far as she could and leaned back against my chest. We quietly watched the snow for a while until I started nibbling on her right ear. We kissed. We kissed a lot. I fumbled with her pants until I got access to her panties and the contents therein. Hoping my hands weren’t too cold I slid a finger between her lips as my left arm pulled her tightly to me. It felt warm and increasingly wet as I worked my way into her. With my middle finger slipped inside her I rubbed the joint of my thumb across the north end of her pussy and talked very softly in her ear. When she started to get close to the edge she grabbed my left hand in both of her hands and took my fingers in her mouth one at a time, sucking at them as she had sucked my cock an hour earlier in another parking spot.

About a half hour later I dropped her off at her house. I was to pick her up at 1 on Sunday afternoon. I had promised to take her back to college. It was out of my way and would add about 2 or 3 hours to my drive but that was the least of my concerns. No, my problem was figuring out how I was going to get all of her stuff into my little car. It was still snowing as I drove over to my parents’ house.

I woke up at about 9AM Sunday to fourteen inches.

I’ve always wanted to write that sentence and have it be the truth! You’re ahead of me though-- we had gotten fourteen inches of snow overnight. By 11 Sharon called to see if we were still leaving at 1PM. Since I couldn’t even get the car out of the garage due to drifts about 3 to 4 feet tall I thought that was unlikely. Even if I could get out of the garage I couldn’t get through our driveway. The road in front of the house wasn’t plowed and the interstate was closed. Other than that it was smooth sailin’. Sharon seemed to blame me for this—well, at least partially.

As the day wound on the highway patrol was still telling people to stay off the roads. There was no way I was driving anywhere until morning and even then I would have to take the family car. My little Italian rust bucket would never make it. At least that saved the problem of where to put her luggage. I told Sharon I’d pick her up at 8AM Monday and with any luck she'd be on her campus by noon.

Late Sunday night the phone rang. My mother handed it to me and with the mouthpiece covered she mouthed, “It’s a girl.” Mom knew Sharon’s voice so I was pretty sure it wasn’t her. It turned out to be Penny Neal. I didn’t really know Penny. She was three years behind me in high school and I didn’t even know she went to the same college I attended. Her problem was simple. Her dad was supposed to take her back to school Sunday and couldn’t because of the snow. He had to work Monday and she was stranded so she was calling people she knew went to the same school hoping someone might be able to give her a ride. Since I was driving the big family sedan, and since I’m a friendly sort of fellow, I told Penny I’d pick her up at about 8:15 in the morning.

She was ecstatic. I do love making women happy, I confess.

But I wasn’t certain that Sharon would think it was a great idea. Admittedly, sometimes my kindly nature can be a problem. But, dammit, a fellow needs to help other people in need!

Oh, did I mention that Penny Neel had been the Sophomore Princess for our football homecoming my senior year in high school?

I left that part out?

Shame on me.