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.