JiMC

Title: Lucky Stiff

WARNING

This story is copyright © 2003-2005. All rights are reserved by the author, including that of publication. Posting on-line is only allowed when permission is explicitly granted by the author, and then only for the complete story, including this disclaimer. Contact the author at jimc-author@excite.com for more information, referring to this story (“Lucky Tickets 2: Lucky Stiff”).

I explicitly grant permission to post this story as a work in progress on StoriesOnline.net and asstr.org. Those two sites also have explicit permission to post the completed stories as well.

The following is a work of fiction and is just a fantasy. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and entirely unintentional. There may be references to people in a historical context, but they are not really characters in this story.

This is a story that describes sexually explicit situations in a fictional universe that only vaguely seems similar to the one we live in. Most of the characters in this story are under aged. However, the target audience is adults (people over the age of eighteen) with broad minds.

* * *

This is a sequel to the story “Lucky Tickets,” and as such, you may want to read that story first to get a better introduction to the characters present in both stories. Like a lot of sequels, it’s not really meant to be read out of order.

* * *

Prologue

Sometimes, in a person’s life, an event happens that seems very innocuous at the time, but is destined to have a big impact on his or her life.

One such event in my life happened on a sunny day in August, 1974. I was walking with my friend Jack through a vacant lot at the corner of the street where I lived. I managed to stumble upon a roll of purple tickets with the legend “Lucky Tickets” printed on them. Those tickets turned out to be quite magical.

I soon found out that if I pulled a ticket off the roll and handed it to somebody, I could make a wish of the person receiving the ticket. The wish has to be within the power of that person to grant the wish. That means I can’t wish for, say world peace, unless that person is somehow able to achieve it. There were some other limitations with the tickets, but they were still very powerful. Imagine handing a girl a ticket and make her to think that you’re the sexiest guy in the world. Suddenly, her whole world image would change. You’d really be the person that she thought she was waiting for her entire life, seemingly of her own volition.

I was almost sixteen years old when I found those tickets, and my life started changing almost immediately. For one thing, as my example in the previous paragraph indicates, I discovered girls. I mean, I really discovered them. Thanks to those tickets, any girl would allow me to explore her body, and would want to make love with me.

I actually did things like that at first. I discovered that I could really mess with people’s minds, take something from somebody, and even exact revenge upon people for perceived injustices.

Alas, it turned out that what I had thought was a blessing could turn out to be a curse. After a couple of childish acts of revenge, I found that I started to regret making some of my wishes. I found it very difficult to undo the effects that such wishes created. It also turned out, much to my surprise, that I had a conscience.

As a result, I spent a lot of time trying to make up for stupid and immature mistakes and I eventually decided to tone down my use of the tickets. I promised myself that I would only use them in circumstances that were within a reasonable set of boundaries or in emergencies.

I couldn’t bring myself to abandon the tickets, so they were always around and I found myself thinking of them constantly. Of course, that also meant that temptation was always close to me. I am only human, and even with the best of intentions, I find that a teenager is still prone to make mistakes.

This is the second story in the “Lucky Tickets” saga.

Chapter 1—Sherry Jordan

Look out now, ‘cause she’ll break your heart again

No one sees what the years have failed to mend, yeh.

Standin’ there beneath the streetlights.

Telling secrets in the darkest night.

Heaven’s just a stolen kiss away.

Chicago

Nothin’s Gonna Stop Us Now

Since the beginning of my sophomore school year, I found myself the object of attention from a few of the girls in my class. This was a new situation for me—I had rarely attracted any notice from members of the opposite sex before.

The thing that was different this year, of course, was that I was now dating Kristen Swift, my little blonde Goddess. Kristen was a senior, had a long mane of lovely blonde hair, blue eyes, and a killer body. Her family was rich, and I was definitely from the “other side of town.” For some reason, Kristen attended public high school, and I had known of her for a few years, mistakenly thinking that she was responsible for my losing the friendship of somebody that I had once been close to.

Kristen was also eighteen months older than I was. That in itself was unusual in high school. Usually, it was older boys that dated younger girls. Girls seemed to look for maturity in the guys they dated, and they associated maturity with age. The fact that Kristen and I were going steady was atypical to say the least.

Apparently, this new situation seemed to make some girls give me more than a casual glance as dating material. After all, if somebody like Kristen found me interesting, there might be more to me than was immediately apparent. The level of my perceived maturity rose proportionately due to the fact that Kristen thought I was dating material. Kristen was no longer the leader of her own clique of girls at school, but she was well known enough that my stature in school naturally rose until I was pretty much known on sight by just about everybody.

Being naive, I didn’t know exactly how to handle this new attention from the girls, so I simply tried to ignore it. Some girls saw my reaction and set their sights elsewhere. A couple of girls saw my reluctance as a personal challenge. Somehow attracted by my attitude, they went on crusades to ensnare me.

One of these crusaders was Sherry Jordan, a sophomore like me that I had known since seventh grade. Sherry’s brown hair was very curly and was so fine as to look fragile. Her breasts were on the smallish side. She wasn’t the most beautiful girl in the world, and I always thought of her as a shy girl in junior high. Every time I saw her, she looked like she was concentrating on something or other, a look that I guess I associated with studiousness. Like most of the girls at that time, Kristen being the notable exception, Sherry wore what I thought was too much makeup—heavy on mascara and eye shadow.

I discussed the attention I was receiving from Sherry with my good friend Patty, who was a senior at the school. Patty was a red-headed friend that I introduced to Kristen. Patty was mildly amused about the way I described Sherry’s actions, understanding that the girls my age were still going through emotional changes themselves. She explained to me how they were just trying out their new wings, so to speak, and how the air of sexual permissiveness of the mid-1970s probably had a lot to do with their attitudes as well.

It was nice having somebody like Patty to talk to. I found her to be a remarkable source of insight into other people’s feelings. What Patty told me made a lot of sense. In fact, in the past year or so, I had seen some of my male acquaintances start to notice members of the opposite sex, a complete 180 degree reversal from their previous attitudes.

However, as I mentioned, I already had a girlfriend, and I was very much in love with Kristen. I had no desire whatsoever of doing anything that would jeopardize my relationship with her. Therefore, I found myself getting into the habit of trying to avoid Sherry’s attentions.

Of course, this only seemed to make Sherry more determined in her targeting of me.

I was therefore a bit nervous when I saw Sherry approach me in history class, one of three classes that we had together. After all, as I said, Sherry was one of those girls that didn’t give up their pursuit of me very easily.

“Hey, Jim!” Sherry said, batting her painted eyes.

“Um… hi ya, Sherry,” I answered, looking at her the way that Superman would eye a bar of Kryptonite.

Sherry continued to bat her mascara-covered eyes, and pushed out her smallish breasts just a little. “You ready for the quiz tomorrow?”

“The homework was easy enough,” I said noncommittally.

“I can’t get it, though,” Sherry said. “All of those dates.” She shuddered at the thought of actually having to remember something. “Maybe you could help me?”

“I’m going out after school…” I said. “With Kristen,” I added, to emphasize my loyalties.

I saw a strange look pass in her eyes briefly. “That’s all right. We both have fourth period lunch. We’ll meet then.” Without giving me time to object, Sherry gave me a sweet smile and walked away toward her desk, wiggling her ass a bit more than I had ever seen her do before.

“Wow, man. That chick’s hot!” a classmate of mine named Fred offered to me.

“Yeah,” I agreed, thinking if something is hot enough, it will burn somebody eventually.

I figured that fourth period lunch would be a good time to deal with Sherry. After all, both Kristen and Patty also had lunch during that period, and I usually ate with the two of them. Sherry would find me surrounded by two twelfth grade girls. I snickered to myself, congratulating myself for having gotten away from Sherry yet again.

As I walked from third period music to the lunchroom, I smiled in anticipation of Sherry having to deal with Patty and Kristen in order to talk with me at lunch.

Suddenly, I felt somebody tap my shoulder.

I turned around and my heart dropped as I saw Sherry standing behind me. “Hey, Jim!”

“Um… you wanted to meet at lunch, right?” I asked.

“Oh, the lunchroom is so noisy. The music room is empty this period and I’ve heard that Mr. Proilet has allowed you free rein to come and go into that room as you please. Isn’t that right?”

“Well…”

“I brought my history book,” Sherry continued, holding the book in her hand. “We could discuss tomorrow’s quiz in relative quiet.”

“I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on!” Sherry said, tugging my arm back toward the music room.

Oh, fuck. Kristen and Patty were definitely going to notice my absence in the lunchroom. Moreover, on more than one occasion, Kristen and I met in that music room for a little rendezvous during lunch period. It wouldn’t be unlike Kristen at all to check on that room to see if I was just spending time working on arrangements for the jazz band.

“This isn’t a good idea,” I said to Sherry who simply ignored me, continuing to pull me into the music room.

Sherry wasn’t a member of the band, but she seemed to know the layout of the music room. As we entered the room, she found the Do Not Disturb switch that connected to a red light outside the room, indicating that nobody should enter the room.

This confirmed to me that Sherry’s intentions had nothing whatsoever to do with History.

“Sherry, I don’t think you should have…”

“Oh, shut up, Jim,” Sherry said, exasperated. Now inside the room with the door shut, she simply turned around and pulled my head down to hers.

Sherry’s kiss surprised me. I attempted to say something, but she kept my face on hers, and as I opened my lips, she simply slipped her tongue into my mouth.

Despite my not being a willing participant in this action, I found Sherry’s actions were making me aroused. I was more than a little surprised when I felt one of her hands leave my neck, quickly moving to my crotch.

Sherry cooed as she felt my erection, and she started to lower my zipper. I tried to muster all my will power to say “NO!” to her, and finally wiggled away from her.

“STOP!” I said, rather forcefully.

Sherry looked at me, dumbfounded. Apparently, it didn’t occur to her that I would really refuse her affections. Boys just didn’t do that!

The two of us were breathing heavily. I saw frustration in Sherry’s eyes, as she contemplated her next move.

I had to move fast, so I did.

Luckily, I had my attaché case with me. I fumbled with it and hastily opened it and pulled out a ticket from my ever-present roll, handing it to Sherry.

Sherry looked confused, but took the ticket, and intoned the words, “You have one wish.”

I pointed to one of the practice rooms, and said, “Go into that room, and don’t make any noise. Wait patiently for me to return.”

“Your wish is my command,” Sherry intoned, and she obediently moved to the practice room.

Whew. That was close. Now, what should I do with her?

I needed to talk with Patty. She already knew about Sherry, although she had doubted that Sherry would actually get as explicit or as obvious as she had just acted. I needed Patty’s ideas right now. I walked out of the music room, and headed for the lunchroom.

I heard a familiar voice call out, “Jim!”

I looked up and saw both Kristen and Patty. “Um… I was looking for you two.”

Kristen looked beyond me and saw the Do Not Disturb light was on. “Oh?” Kristen asked, knowingly. “Both of us?”

I sighed. Kristen thought that I had planned a little rendezvous for the two of us.

Apparently, Patty thought the same thing, and started to excuse herself.

“No, Patty. Wait.”

Both girls looked at me in surprise.

“Come into the music room. I need to talk with the two of you.”

We entered the room. I saw Sherry’s book on one of the seats, reminding me that she was still waiting patiently for me in one of the practice rooms.

“What’s this about?” Kristen asked.

I turned to Patty. “Patty, remember when I told you about the girls in my classes and how their feelings toward me have changed recently?”

Patty nodded, confused.

Kristen also looked confused. I hadn’t told her about this—I hadn’t wanted to get her upset. I now realized that I didn’t have much choice.

“Kris, I only told Patty so I could get advice,” I explained. “Since the beginning of school this year, girls seem to be more interested in me. Patty and I worked it out that because you seem interested in me, and that Wendy, Patty, and Patrice also hang out with me, that I might be somebody worth looking into.”

Patty nodded, remembering our conversation.

“You’re not thinking of leaving me, are you?” Kristen asked. I saw from her amused expression that she didn’t seem upset at this revelation.

“No, Kris,” I assured my love, “you’re my one and only.”

“So, what’s this about?” Patty asked.

“Well, there’s one girl that has been a bit more persistent than the others; one that doesn’t want to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“And you want advice?” Patty asked.

“Or do you want me to kill her?” Kristen asked, still not completely serious.

“No,” I answered, “I just want you to understand.”

“Understand what?” Kristen asked. She sounded as if she was getting a bit exasperated.

“Give me a second,” I said, sighing. I took my attaché case and went into the room where Sherry was still waiting.

The two girls watched me enter the practice room. I saw Sherry simply waiting there. She went to say something as I handed her another ticket.

“You have one wish.”

I exited the closet, pulling Sherry behind me.

Kristen’s bemused expression turned dark. “You have a girl in there?”

“Wait, Kristen,” Patty said. “Look at her.”

“He’s got her in the power of a ticket!” Kristen spat.

I turned to Kristen and said, “Trust me, Kris.”

Kristen’s expression didn’t soften, but her mouth closed.

I returned my attention to Sherry and said, “Until I say the phrase ‘Truth serum off,’ you are obligated to tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You will simply stand there and answer my questions, ignoring everything else.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Turning my attention back to the two seniors, I said, “You both know that she cannot lie right now. I’ll ask her right now if I have betrayed you, Kristen. Or do you trust me?”

Kristen looked me in the eyes, and her expression finally softened. “I trust you, Jim.”

“I was thinking about using a ticket to take her mind off me, but I wanted Patty’s advice—and yours—before I did so. You both know how tricky these tickets are.”

Both girls nodded.

“Anyway,” I said, turning back to Sherry. “I still want to set the record straight. Sherry, why did you come into this room today?”

“I came here to kiss you, Jim,” Sherry intoned. “I was going to fondle you and make you shoot off. If I had to, I would give you a hand job.”

“But why?” I asked, almost automatically.

“My cousin said she’d pay me a hundred dollars if I did that here in the music room.”

“Your cousin? Here in the music room?” I asked, not understanding.

“I saw you come in here last week with Kristen,” Sherry explained, still using her monotone voice. “I put my ear to the door and heard what you two were doing in here. I told my cousin, and she dared me to do it with you. She even told me that she’d pay me another hundred dollars if Kristen walks in and you’re naked. If not, she wanted me to steal you away from her, and I could use the hand job as blackmail material to make you leave Kristen.”

“Why would your cousin want that?” Patty asked.

Sherry didn’t answer. My wish had only been for Sherry to answer my questions, and to ignore everything else.

I turned to the other two girls and saw a look of shock on Kristen’s face.

“Kris, I didn’t know how far she was willing to go. This thing about Sherry’s cousin has thrown me for a loop.” I turned back to Sherry. “Who is your cousin?”

“Dale Hardy,” Sherry answered.

“Oh, shit!” Kristen said, and ran out of the room.

I looked at Patty in shock at Kristen’s outburst. “What just happened?”

“Dale Hardy was the girl that Kristen got kicked out of high school, Jim.”

“Oh, fuck!”

“Jim, I need to talk with Kristen. I’m afraid she’ll do something drastic.”

I nodded dumbly at Patty.

Patty went to leave and said, “You’ll need to get Sherry out of here. Um… make her think she failed, that you don’t seem to like girls that come on too strong. Have her forget what happened in here.”

“OK,” I said, but Patty was already out of the room. “So,” I asked, turning to Sherry knowing that the two of us were alone, “do you love me, or were you just putting me on?”

“I love you, Jim,” Sherry said, her voice losing its monotone and becoming more animated. “I’ve wanted you to be my first boyfriend, my first lover. I’d have come with you in here even if Dale hadn’t offered me money. Dale just gave me the idea.”

“Love me?” I asked, surprised. “You hardly know me!”

“Not true,” Sherry said. “I’ve watched you in earth science and English last year. You didn’t notice, but I liked you. I saw you playing the piano here at the high school for ‘Annie Get Your Gun’ last year. I bought a ticket for every performance. I think I’ve been in love with you since seventh grade.”

Oh, shit. I didn’t need another person falling in love with me.

However, there was something about Sherry, and the fact that I knew that there was no way that she could be lying to me, that made me consider what she said.

“So, why am I getting the attention now? Because of Dale?”

“I saw that you were going with Kristen,” Sherry spat. “I hate her! She has everything in the world! She fucked over my cousin! Now, she’s taken the one boy that I always wanted! You didn’t seem interested in anybody last year, but now you’re going out with her, probably because of all her money.”

I looked at Sherry, stunned by her venomous remarks. Did she truly think that I was only interested in Kristen’s money? Is that what other people thought?

I sat quietly, looking at Sherry standing with her tear stained face. Somehow, I would need to clean up this mess, and I had no idea how to do so.

“Truth serum off,” I said.

Sherry shook her head and looked at me. “Did… did what just happen… really happen?”

I sighed, and handed Sherry another ticket.

“You have one wish,” Sherry intoned.

“I wish that you will forget what happened in this room,” I said, remembering Patty’s instructions. “Instead remember that you tried to kiss me, but found that I was repulsed by your heavy handed tactics. And…” I let my words drop off, keeping Sherry from “finalizing” the wish.

I paused, thinking about what Sherry just told me. Had she really been infatuated with me for all that time? I never noticed it if she had.

I realized that Dale probably knew about Sherry’s infatuation and simply used it to get to Kristen. Sherry wasn’t really the one at fault here. There was something else. I couldn’t let Sherry think of herself as a failure. She seemed so… so vulnerable.

“And,” I continued, “as you leave this room, you will turn and give me a tender kiss. It won’t last too long and it will just be our lips touching.” I felt that I had to give Sherry something for baring her feelings to me the way she had done.

“Your wish is my command.”

Sherry blinked again, and said, “Um… I’m embarrassed. I’m sorry I touched you like that…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said, feeling like I had somehow done something wrong to bring this problem on myself.

“I… I think I should leave,” Sherry said, quietly.

I nodded.

Sherry moved toward the door, but stopped as she walked next to me. She moved upward and pursed her lips for a kiss.

I looked at Sherry for a couple of seconds, and realized that my wish was preventing her from actually touching me with her hands. I needed to bend down to kiss Sherry.

I did so.

It was not a very romantic kiss. There were no tongues, and no touching of either of us, except for our lips.

Nevertheless, the kiss moved me.

After Sherry left, I sat alone in the music room for a few minutes and pondered the situation.

* * *

When I returned to the lunchroom, neither Patty nor Kristen were there. That worried me a bit. I knew that Kristen could easily go off the deep end and do something stupid. Knowing that Patty was with her (at least, I hoped she was) gave me a bit of hope, since I knew that Patty had a good head on her shoulders.

I was somewhat surprised to see Camille in the lunchroom. Camille was a lovely cheerleader in twelfth grade and was one of Patty’s closest friends. I knew that she didn’t have fourth period lunch. Camille saw me and started heading right for me.

“Jim!” Camille said.

“Cammy, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve got a substitute teacher in physics class,” Camille explained. “My National Honor Society card allows me to go to the library. I wanted to talk with Patty at lunch, but when I saw her, she was with Kristen. She told me that I should talk with you.”

I hadn’t known that Camille was in the honor society. After all, I knew her predilection for skipping class. She was also a cheerleader to boot. National Honor Society material? I was a bit amazed. “Talk about what?” I asked her.

“Patty said something about a girl named Sherry. In addition, I noticed that Kristen looked furious at the mention of her name. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

I sighed. “Do you know Sherry Jordan?”

“She’s a small girl, the brunette with the permanent perm?” Camille asked.

Camille’s description brought a quick smile to my lips. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“Isn’t her cousin Dale Hardy?” Camille asked, her eyes getting wide. “Uh, oh… I think I’m beginning to get the picture.”

Camille led me to a set of tables that were empty so we could sit and talk in relative privacy.

I brought Camille up to date. “Sherry’s been in love with me since seventh grade, she told me. Dale offered her money for her to get me into a compromising situation with her and have Kristen find out. She even told Sherry to try to blackmail me into dumping Kristen for Sherry.”

Camille whistled. “Shit. Dale doesn’t take prisoners. Dale and Kristen used to be close, though. What’s going on with them?”

“Kristen’s dad got Dale thrown out of school,” I explained. “I think he arranged for her to attend St. Jude’s Catholic school on a ‘scholarship’ in order to get her out of here. I thought she was no longer an issue.”

“Dale doesn’t forget, Jim,” Camille pointed out. “Dale was a friend of my sister’s, you know.”

Actually, I hadn’t known that. Ages before, when I was quite younger, Camille’s sister Debbie used to baby sit me, although I couldn’t really remember much about that. “I’ll take your word for that. Anyway, Sherry’s in the middle. She really has feelings for me. Moreover, she hates Kristen because of what she did to Dale, and because Kris and I are going together. On top of all that, she thinks that I’m only in love with Kristen for her money.”

Camille was silent for a minute.

“How do you know how she feels? Did she tell you? Could it be she was just telling you in order to get you to go along with her?”

I shook my head. “Camille, you know that I can be very persuasive when I want to know something. What she said is the truth, without a doubt.”

Camille looked at me solemnly and after a few moments, she nodded her head. I didn’t think she knew about the tickets, although she had once been under their influence. I figured that she simply considered me a very persuasive person, a thought that I didn’t try to discourage. Camille continued to think silently, and I waited patiently.

The expression on Camille’s face showed that she just had an idea. “What do you know about Sherry? Did she do any sports in junior high? I think I remember her doing something like gymnastics.”

“Yeah,” I said. “She was pretty good on the gym team. The school came in third in the regional tournament—almost good enough to qualify for the All State tournament. I think she did floor exercises.”

Camille’s face turned into a grin. “I think I can handle Sherry for you, but we’ll need to talk with Patty.”

“What’s your idea?” I asked.

“It’s just the germ of an idea now, Jim. Let me think on this a bit.”

“I guess,” I said, a bit disappointed that Camille didn’t want to confide in me.

“Oh, you!” Camille said, playfully rubbing the hair on my head. “OK. Let’s say Sherry has two problems: her unrequited love for you, and her hatred of Kristen.”

“All right.”

“You have a problem with Sherry. You seem to think you’re responsible for her feelings.” Camille looked up at me, sharply. “Um, Jim… you aren’t, are you?”

I shook my head. “No, Camille,” I said, wondering why she would ask that.

Camille looked into my eyes and then nodded. “All right. Kristen has her own problems with Dale. Patty is probably working on that problem with Kristen right now. That leaves just you and Sherry. Maybe the two of us can fix that problem.”

“How?”

“Well, you’re not about to leave Kristen anytime soon, right?”

“Not a chance,” I said emphatically. “I love Kristen.”

Camille smiled. “I know you do. Therefore, if Sherry wants to get closer to you, she’s going to have to change her mind about Kristen. You’ll need to do that.”

I found myself nodding at Camille’s advice.

“You can’t force Sherry to like Kristen, Jim,” Camille warned me. There was a look in her eyes that showed concern. “You cannot mess with her feelings.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, wondering what Camille knew about me.

“I mean, you need to show Sherry reasons why she should like Kristen. You love Kristen, so that should be easy for you.”

I looked at Camille, but I didn’t see anything that suggested that Camille knew about my tickets. “What about you?”

Camille grinned. “Sherry’s other problem is that she’s too fixated on you. I will help her find another focus for her life.”

“Another boyfriend?” I asked, shaking my head. “I don’t think that will work.”

“Perhaps we could find her another boyfriend, but maybe I can help her find some better ways of spending her time.”

“Like how?” I asked, intrigued.

Camille furrowed her brow. “Well, you could break the ice by mentioning her gymnastics if the three of us ever get together.”

“You, me, and Sherry?” I asked, smiling. “That’s not likely to happen anytime soon.”

Camille shot me a mischievous grin. “You can never tell.” The class bell rang, and the two of us found ourselves having to end our conversation.

“Gym class, Jim,” Camille said, giggling. “Say ‘hi’ to Coach Dillard for me.”

I gave Camille a look while shaking my head. I still remembered the time that Camille barged into the boys’ locker room looking for me—as we were dressing—much to the chagrin of the coach, not to mention the boys that were dressing!

* * *

I thought about Camille’s suggestion. She was right in that I needed to do something to change Sherry’s mind about Kristen.

Of course, the first method that sprang to my mind was the lucky tickets. Although they had never failed to make people change their minds, I was a bit reluctant to use them in that way. Using them as a “truth serum” was usually pretty safe, but I found that occasionally, something unexpected would happen when a wish would go further than I actually expected.

An example of wishes having unintended consequences involved Kristen, who was now the love of my life. A few weeks before I really knew Kristen, I had been of the opinion that she was a self-centered bitch and that she had been responsible for my losing a friend many years before. I had been wrong in that characterization of Kristen at the time, but in a fit of revenge, I used the tickets in anger to attack Kristen sexually.

I offhandedly made a wish that she would be addicted to my dick and sperm. To my horror, I found out that I accidentally managed to turn her into a strung out junkie in less than a day. Fixing this problem and others like it turned out to be surprisingly difficult. I found out that no ticket could be any more powerful than any other ticket. That means that I can’t use a ticket to override the effects of a wish that I had already made. I thought long and hard about trying to fix Kristen’s addiction, and I think that I was able to lessen its effects, but had never been able to remove them completely.

I decided that I was not about to make that same mistake with Sherry.

In gym class, I was relieved that inclement weather forced us to play dodge ball in the gymnasium instead of football outdoors. It was a no-brainer exercise, and I was able to give Camille’s advice about Sherry some serious thought.

It didn’t take me long to come up with the obvious solution for dealing with Sherry: talk to her! We had English together in eighth period at the end of the school day. I could make it a point to talk to her then.

Having successfully dealt with Sherry for now, my mind went to other things. I was worried about Kristen’s reaction to finding out that Dale Hardy seemed to want to go after her. I was glad that Patty was around to help her deal with it—I couldn’t think of a better person for somebody to confide in than Patty.

Thinking of Patty brought Camille to mind. Camille was a cheerleader in twelfth grade, and one of Patty’s closest friends. She had hair similar to Kristen’s, long and blonde, but Camille’s face was more oval than Kristen’s was. In fact, it was amazing how much Camille looked like Marcia from the Brady Bunch television show.

Camille liked to joke about sex, and on more than one occasion, hinted that she’d like to have some recreational sex with me. Camille had recently toned down that kind of joking with me, and I had recently come to decide that sex should be an intimate act between lovers. For that reason, I tried to avoid Camille, since it was obvious that she didn’t seem to feel the same way. Another good reason was that Kristen had a jealous streak. Being skilled in the martial arts, Kristen could seriously injure Camille while in a fit of jealous rage.

When Patty’s aunt passed away, Patty joined her mother in New Jersey to attend the funeral. During that time, Patty arranged for Camille to take her place temporarily as my personal adviser and confidante. In the week that Patty was away, I actually grew to know Camille more and our friendship blossomed. Her hints for a sexual liaison lessened, although she continued to occasionally make outrageous puns involving lewd sexual acts. She actually described herself as a slut!

I found Camille to be a very smart person and a good friend. She, like Patty and Kristen, treated me as their equal, despite the fact that I was two grades lower than them in school. In the absence of Patty, Camille was a person that I could turn to if problems came up. She was discreet, intelligent, and quick-witted.

I noticed Camille’s lack of wisecracks during lunch. That alerted me to the fact that she thought the situation with Sherry, Dale, and Kristen was serious. I made a mental note to take extra care with Sherry when I talked to her later.

As I was thinking about these things, a red ball approached me, and I didn’t even notice it until almost the last second. I knew that I didn’t have a chance in hell of catching the ball, so I twisted my body to prevent any damage to important organs as the coach blew his whistle calling me out. I headed to the sidelines, content to pretend to watch the other boys play, while trying to continue to think up ideas on how to handle my end of things with Sherry.

Seventh period came, and I survived a pop quiz in French class. I filled in the answers automatically, and I was getting concerned that I still hadn’t come up with any concrete ideas for dealing with Sherry. The part of me that likes to procrastinate was thinking about waiting until tomorrow, but I quickly shrugged off that idea. It was obvious that I needed to do something because the situation could easily get worse if left alone.

The bell rang, signaling us that we needed to head for eighth period. About halfway to class, I noticed that Sherry was in front of me. I quickly moved toward her, and said “Hi, Sherry.”

Sherry looked at me and her eyes opened. “Oh, Jim. I’m really sorry…”

I cut her off. “No need to apologize again, Sherry. It wasn’t entirely your fault. You need to realize, though, that I am in love with Kristen. We’ve only been going out a few weeks, but it is very serious between us. I’m not after her money, and you should know that.”

Sherry looked at me, surprised. “I never said that you were after her money!”

Oh, shit. I had told Sherry to forget what happened in the music room, and I now realized that this included her outburst about me. “No, I just wanted to assure you that the two of us really love one another. I can see how somebody could get that idea if one doesn’t really know Kristen.”

“Oh,” Sherry said, looking a bit guilty. “I know that the two of you are dating, but…” Her eyes dropped again, and she let the sentence hang.

We were near the English class, and the bell was about to ring. I steered Sherry into the classroom and said, “Sherry, let’s talk about this later. I think the two of us really need to talk to one another. I like you… I really do, and I want us to be friends. Close friends.”

Sherry had a shocked look on her face as I walked to my desk.

The topic for that day was exposition writing, or, as my English teacher, Ms. Taylor put it, writing to persuade. I thought it an appropriate topic, actually, considering my need to persuade Sherry about some things.

During the class, I stole glances at Sherry, who looked disturbed. Maybe I laid it on too thick in my last remark to her, but I needed to get Sherry to stop hating Kristen. To do that, I needed to become a friend to Sherry.

I considered whether my actions were honorable. After all, I was seeking Sherry’s friendship with an ulterior motive in mind. My motive was to prevent a bad situation between Kristen and her. As I mentioned earlier, Kristen knew martial arts and she also had a jealous streak—two things that made for a dangerous combination. I didn’t want Sherry hurt, emotionally or physically.

Something in Sherry’s revelation to me earlier that day tugged at my heart. I had been completely unaware that she had been infatuated with me for so long.

Now, just because a girl has had a crush on me doesn’t mean that I really have any obligation to her; that sort of thing didn’t strike me as being fair.

On the other side of the coin, however, I had not known that about Sherry’s feelings, and I realized that part of the reason that I didn’t know was my own fault. I knew that I used to be more than a bit self-centered and conceited back in junior high, and I probably still had traces of both of those character flaws. Recently, I started changing my outlook from just thinking about me, to thinking about Kristen and the new friends that I was now making.

Now I had Sherry suddenly thrust into my world. I didn’t know her very well, and I realized that I would probably have to rectify that. Of course, I would have to let Kristen know my intentions and motives as well, or things could get even worse.

I didn’t know if Sherry’s infatuation with me would interfere with the two of us being friends. I had never dealt with anything like this before. I knew that I needed to talk with either Patty or Camille about this in more detail, but Camille told me that she might be able to help Sherry somehow find another focus. I had no idea what Camille meant by that, or if she really had anything planned. Either way, I was determined to do right by Sherry.

When the bell rang to signal our release from school, I saw Sherry bolt for the door. I think I might have frightened her with the things that I said earlier. I was closer to the exit, however, and managed to catch up with her easily.

“Sherry, can we talk for a few minutes? School is over now, and I feel we really need to talk.”

Sherry had an uncertain look on her face and she shook her head. “Sorry. I have to get home. My mom’s expecting me…”

“It will be a few minutes before the buses leave. Let me at least walk you to your locker.”

Sherry shrugged and we walked down the hallway. It was crowded with students in three grades looking to escape from the school another day.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable before,” I said. “You’ve been willing to talk to me in every class up until today. What’s changed?”

Sherry looked at me. “I made a fool out of myself with you. You don’t like me.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know you. I think if we get to know each other, we would probably like each other. Is that so difficult?”

We stopped at Sherry’s locker. Patty saw me, and noticed Sherry, who had her back to her. “Excuse me, Jim?”

“Yeah, Patty?”

“I’m going to be getting a ride with… a friend. Cammy said she’d be happy to give you a ride.”

Patty was telling me in a coded way that she was going to be going home with Kristen alone today, and that Kristen wouldn’t be giving me a ride. Instead, I’d be getting a ride in Camille’s red Toyota.

“Cool, Patty,” I said, smiling. “See you around.”

“Who was that?” Sherry asked.

“Patty Nadal. She’s a friend of mine.”

“You seem to hang out with a lot of seniors,” Sherry remarked.

“Well, Camille—the girl Patty was talking about—used to baby sit me with her older sister. Camille is Patty’s best friend.”

Sherry nodded. “I guess. So, do you still think that I don’t know you? You’re Jim Crittenhouse, the music whiz. You used to hang out with Jack Williams, although I don’t see the two of you together much anymore.”

I smiled ruefully. “Jack and I don’t have any classes together. His sister is a close friend, too.”

Sherry shook her head. “You’re a regular Lothario, aren’t you, friends with all those senior girls?”

“Maybe they see in me what you see in me, huh?” I shrugged.

Sherry blushed crimson and didn’t answer.

“But at least I know those girls. You seem to know me. What’s my favorite color?”

“Blue,” Sherry said automatically.

I was stunned. How did Sherry know that?

“Hmmm, then what’s my favorite band?”

“The Beatles are your favorite of all time, but your favorite performer is Elton John. I heard you do Honky Cat over and over in Mr. Thurd’s music class after school once, and you told whoever it was with you that he’s your favorite keyboardist.”

I was completely shocked. Sherry really did know a lot about me. Finally, I said, “You definitely seem to know me. What should I know about you?”

Sherry once again looked uncertain. “Jim, I need to get to the buses. My mom expects me home in a half hour.”

Camille found me just at that time. “Hello, Jim. Who is your friend?”

Sherry looked up. “I’m Sherry… Wait… Is this the Camille that your friend mentioned—Camille Lombardi on the cheerleading squad?”

Camille’s smile was broad and unforced. “Here, I am… the one and only!”

“I’m Sherry Jordan,” Sherry said shyly as she offered Camille her hand.

Continuing to smile, Camille shook Sherry’s hand and said, “I’m really glad to meet you.”

Sherry finally smiled. “Well, excuse me, but I really need to get to the bus…”

“I’d be happy to give you a ride, Sherry. I was just here to find out when Jim wanted to leave. I’m driving him home as well.”

“Oh, I can’t…”

“Sure you can. How far away do you live?”

“About five minutes away.”

“Piece of cake,” Camille smiled. “How long does the bus take?”

“Um… about twenty minutes.”

“Fine. I’ll find the two of you in the parking lot in ten minutes. You’ll be home in plenty of time.” Camille smiled a truly lovely smile and left.

Thank goodness for friends like Camille. I now had an additional ten minutes with Sherry.

Sherry didn’t seem to know what hit her. “You didn’t tell me that you were friends with Camille!”

I laughed. “I told you that Camille was Patty’s friend. You mentioned that she was a senior, so I thought you knew who I was talking about. However, this points out something interesting. You don’t know everything about me, do you?”

“Point taken,” Sherry said, continuing to smile.

“Let’s walk to the bench outside the school, shall we?”

Sherry nodded and the two of us walked to one of the benches just outside the school. Luckily, they were all mostly empty, most kids wanting to spend as little time at the school as was humanly possible now that school was over for the day.

“So, you were about to admit that you don’t know a thing about me,” Sherry said, taking the initiative.

I shook my head. “That’s not entirely true. About a week after school started, I started getting attention from girls in my class, including you. One of the guys today referred to you as ‘hot,’ by the way. Did you know that?”

Sherry blushed, and said, “Well, I noticed you before you were going out with Kristen, actually.”

“Yes,” I said, now getting into my prepared speech. “I guess I was a bit conceited and self-centered before. I admit that I never really noticed you. More is the pity, actually.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe the two of us would have been friends last year. I’ve found in the past few weeks that having friends is very important. I used to think that I knew everything, but talking—actually talking—with people like Kristen, Patty, and Camille, I found out that other people know many things that I didn’t know; things that were important.”

Sherry nodded, not knowing where I was going with this.

“One thing that I learned is that if I have an opportunity to become a friend to somebody, it’s an opportunity worth taking.”

I didn’t have much more prepared, so now I was going to have to wing it, depending on how Sherry reacted.

“I see,” Sherry said, slowly. “This is the ‘let’s be friends’ speech, isn’t it.”

“No, Sherry,” I said. “I’m not breaking up with you. I want to get to know you better. It wasn’t until I really knew Kristen that I realized that I loved her. Don’t you deserve the same chance?”

Sherry’s eyes lit up. “You mean…?”

“I’m not making any promises, Sherry,” I said, wanting to make that perfectly clear. “I’d like to get to know you. You said you had problems with History, I might be able to help you with that.”

“I, um… lied about that,” Sherry said. “I got an A in both quizzes so far this year.”

I smiled. “I know. I do want something from you.”

“What’s that?” Sherry said, looking suspicious.

“I want a friend. I don’t want a girlfriend on the side. One thing that can destroy a friendship is jealousy, and treating you like a girlfriend wouldn’t be fair to you, or to Kristen. Right now, Kristen is my girlfriend, and she’s done nothing wrong whatsoever to deserve to be treated unkindly.”

“She’s done nothing wrong?” Sherry said, a bit emotional. “I know some of the things that she’s done.”

“To you?”

“No…”

“How about to me? Is she hurting me by dating me?”

“No, but my cousin…”

“Your cousin is Dale Hardy, right?”

“Yes, and Kristen got her kicked out of school.”

“Because Dale tried to blackmail Kristen,” I said, arguing Kristen’s case. “Dale was spreading vicious rumors about Kristen. Did you know that?”

Sherry shook her head at me. “You don’t understand.”

“No,” I admitted. “Dale is your cousin, and deserves your loyalty. Likewise, Kristen is my girlfriend, and until you give me something specific, I want to remain loyal to her. I also got my information from Patrice Williams and some of the boys that heard Dale’s rumors.”

Sherry was silent, but I knew that she still had feelings about this.

“You see, Sherry, there are two sides to every story.”

“Maybe,” Sherry said, still not sounding convinced.

Camille came over and found the two of us at the bench. “Are you guys ready to roll?”

“Sure,” the two of us answered together.

Sherry and I followed Camille into Camille’s red Toyota station wagon. I intentionally maneuvered so that I was sitting in the back seat of the car. I was still curious as to what Camille’s ideas were for Sherry.

Camille started the engine, and asked Sherry where she lived.

“I live on Rogers Street,” Sherry said.

“Near the park?” Camille asked.

“Yeah.”

“Cool. You’re right, only five minutes away, and it’s in my neighborhood!”

Sherry smiled.

I remembered Camille’s suggestion from lunch period. “Cammy, Sherry is on the gymnastics team.”

“Really?” asked Camille.

Sherry turned beet red and nodded. “You knew that?” she asked me.

“See,” I said, smiling. “I do know some things about you.”

Sherry smiled a bit nervously, and she nodded her head again.

Camille took the cue. “You know, Sherry, the cheerleaders are having mid-season tryouts pretty soon. If you need a sponsor, I’d be happy to put in a good word for a gymnast.”

Sherry laughed. “Me? Do you really think I could be a cheerleader on the varsity squad?”

“Jim says you are on the gym team, right?”

Sherry gave me a glare. “Well, yeah.”

Camille continued, “You’ve got the build, you know the basic moves, and you know how to memorize routines. You are also used to wearing uniforms that don’t hide much. You could be a perfect cheerleader.”

“You really think so?” Sherry asked.

“I know so. I’ll talk with Lynette Robbins tomorrow.”

“Groovy,” I said. “Now I’ll have two cheerleaders for friends.”

Sherry turned toward me and playfully punched my in the shoulder. “You pig!”

“You know what they say about cheerleaders?” I said, flashing Sherry a big smile.

“No, Jimmy,” Camille said, emphasizing that nickname I disliked to let me know that I may not have said the right thing. “They just say that about me.”

That broke the three of us up, but I got the message from Camille to be careful about what I said.

Sherry pointed out her house on Rogers Street, and Camille pulled into the driveway.

“Thank you for the offer, Camille,” Sherry said. “Let me think about it tonight.”

“All right. When do you have lunch?”

“That would be fourth period.”

“Cool. Jim does, too. Tell Jim your decision tomorrow, and he knows how to get in touch with me or one of my friends.”

“Thanks again,” Sherry said, getting out of the car. “And thank you, Jim.”

“For what?” I asked.

“For wanting to be a friend,” Sherry smiled.

I watched Sherry enter her house. I felt that Camille and I had successfully averted disaster with Sherry.

“You’re serious about the offer?” I asked.

“I’m totally serious about cheerleading, Jim,” Camille said. “I wasn’t kidding. A gymnast like her would be more qualified than most of the untalented bimbos that we normally have as candidates. That’s why we require sponsors.”

“All right. I just don’t want her to get hurt.”

“I know, Jim. I know how much you care about people. It didn’t take Patty to convince me of that, you know.”

For some reason that I could not describe, I really felt great hearing that from Camille. I was silent as Camille drove me to my home.

Chapter 2—“Oogie” and Merry’s Birthday

The simple things that come without a price,

The simple things like happiness joy and love in my life.

I’ve seen it all from so many sides,

And I hope you would agree,

The best things in life are the simple things.

Joe Cocker

The Simple Things

Immediately, my mother noticed something out of the ordinary. “Where’s Kristen?” she asked.

It struck me that Kristen and I had developed a schedule of the two of us having dinner at her house once a week, and at my house once a week, on weekdays. Other weekdays, we’d eat at our respective homes alone. On Friday and Saturday nights, Kristen and I would usually go out for dinner (mostly Vaughn’s with Kristen paying), and then spend the night at her house together.

Today was supposed to be the night that Kristen ate at my house.

“Camille dropped me off,” I said. “Kristen was upset about somebody at school, and she went home with Patty.”

“Did you two have a fight?” my mother asked. “I don’t mean to pry…”

“No, mom. It’s nothing like that.”

“So, is she coming over?” my mother repeated.

“Let me call her.”

I went into my father’s study and picked up the phone. I was confused, and really hoped that Kristen wasn’t still angry with Sherry.

Edgar picked up the phone on the second ring. When he heard my voice, he didn’t wait for me to introduce myself, but simply said that he would put Kristen on the line.

About half a minute later, I heard a click as Kristen picked up the phone.

“Jim?”

There was another click as Edgar disconnected his extension.

“Yeah, Kris. I was wondering how you were feeling.”

“I’m much better now. Patty is here with me, and she’ll probably spend the night.”

“My mom wanted to know if you’re coming over for dinner tonight.”

There was a pause and then I heard Kristen curse. “Shit! I forgot all about that.”

“OK. I’ll let my mom…”

“Wait, Jim. Can you hold a second?”

“Sure.”

I waited as I heard muffled voices over the phone. Apparently, Kristen had her palm covering the handset.

“What’s your mother making for supper?” Kristen asked as she came back on.

“Why?” I asked, smiling. “Have a better offer from somebody else?”

“Please, Jim!” Kristen pleaded.

It was easy to tell what Mom was making. You could smell it all through the house. “Spaghetti and meat balls,” I answered.

“Think there would be enough for Patty, too?”

My mom usually made enough for leftovers for a few nights. “That shouldn’t be a problem, but let me ask my mom.”

“Sure thing.”

I put the handset down, and bounded into the kitchen. “Mom, Kristen wanted to know if Patty could have dinner here, too.”

“We’ll have to get the leaf out for the dining room table,” Mom answered.

“No problem. I’ll have Merry help me with that, and we’ll put on the big tablecloth.”

My mother continued to be amazed at the transformation that I had undergone in just a month or so. “That’s thoughtful of you, Jim.”

“I’ll let Kristen know.”

I ran back into the study, and found that my step-sister had picked up the phone and was talking to Kristen.

“Hey, Shortcake! I was using that!”

“Don’t worry. Your Goddess is still on the other end.”

Goddess? When did Merry ever hear me refer to Kristen that way?

Merry laughed when she saw my reaction, and handed me the phone.

Kristen was still on the line. I told her that it was all right if Patty came, too.

“We’ll be there at five thirty,” Kristen said.

“Thank you, Goddess!” I emphasized the last word as I hung up the phone. At the same time, I tried to burn a gaze at my cute and adorable step-sister, the Mata Hari in training.

Merry blushed at that, and started to leave. “Wait, Merry.”

“What?”

“We’ll need to put the leaf in the dining room table. Could you please help me?”

“Sure.”

We went into the closet where the extra leaves were for the dining room table. We selected one, and the two of us quickly inserted it into the table. We put a plastic tablecloth onto the table, making sure the ends were all even, since my mother was a stickler for details like that, especially with company.

“Jim?” Merry asked.

“What?”

“If Kristen is your Goddess, does that make you God?”

I sighed and answered with an old joke. “No. God’s name is Harold.”

“Harold?”

“Yeah. You know: Our father, who art in heaven. Harold be thy name…”

My step-sister looked at me as if I had two heads, but then broke out in giggles.

Good, I thought. I now have her vulnerable. I decided to spring the trap. “And where did you hear the name ‘Goddess,’ anyway?”

Merry blushed again, but didn’t answer.

I realized that I was going to have to watch out for that little spy.

Both Patty and Kristen had eaten at my house before, but never had they done so together. They arrived together at 5:30 exactly.

It only took me a second for me to see that Kristen was back in good spirits. She was smiling as I opened the door, and I welcomed her with a big kiss. Not wishing to have Patty feel left out, I gave her a small kiss as well.

I have described Kristen Swift as my “little blonde Goddess.” I believe the first time I ever used that expression was when I was describing her to Patty. Kristen was gorgeous in a classical sense. She had a round face, similar to the images you see of Cupid, except her cheeks weren’t as pudgy. She had long, straight, blonde hair that I just loved running my fingers through. She was about five feet, seven inches tall, and had a cute body with medium sized breasts. She exercised regularly, and her legs showed firm muscle definition, almost like a dancer’s legs.

Patty Nadal was Kristen’s and my best friend. She was a red haired senior and was one of the nicest people that I knew. I mentioned earlier that she had marvelous insights into other people. She was also a very caring individual, although she seemed to be moody occasionally.

When I first became friends with Patty, just a month or so before, she confided in me that she had suffered a traumatic rape in tenth grade that had once caused a lot of damage to her self-image. In a way that I still don’t completely understand, I helped her come to terms with those memories, and she was even starting to consider dating again.

I invited the two girls into the house, and Kristen noticed Merry immediately, smiled, then kissed her.

“We’re having noodles and sauce,” Merry announced.

“Jim told me,” Kristen replied.

“Hi, Merry,” Patty said, approaching my sister.

“Hi, Patty! Are you here for dinner, too?”

“Yeah. Your mom invited the two of us over tonight.”

Since Patty had Merry’s attention, I pulled Kristen with me, and we both went upstairs to my room.

Once my door closed, I asked Kristen the question that was worrying me all day. “How are you feeling?”

“I was boiling mad at Dale for her conniving manipulation of her cousin, and for trying to put you in a compromising position.”

I nodded, remembering how angry Kristen got when she heard Dale’s plan.

“Patty suggested that I let it go,” Kristen explained. “She pointed out that Dale can make it look like I’m harassing her if I do anything to her. And that would not be good. I’m still mad at Sherry, but Patty says that she really isn’t to blame for being duped like that.”

“Patty’s usually right about such things.”

Kristen nodded. “Time for a quickie?” she asked, looking at my groin.

I shook my head. “No, Kristen. With you, it will never be a ‘quickie.’ I want to make sweet and tender love with you, and never have to worry about time.”

Kristen swooned a bit, and fell into my arms. “I have the sweetest friends—and a most romantic charmer!”

“It’s difficult not to be a charmer with one so sweet as you, Kris.”

That earned me a long and tender kiss from my blonde Goddess.

After we broke off the kiss, I sat her down on my bed. “Kristen, I was talking with Cammy earlier today.”

Kristen nodded. “I know. Patty saw her in the lunchroom and asked her to talk to you.”

I brought Kristen up to date with what I had said to Sherry, and Camille’s suggestion for her to be on the cheerleading squad.

“Camille must have been joking,” Kristen said.

“Camille jokes a lot,” I admitted, “but I’ve never heard her joke about cheerleading. She takes that quite seriously.”

Kristen was thoughtful for a moment and said, “We might want to discuss this with Patty.”

“Good idea,” I agreed.

The two of us kissed again, then made our entrance downstairs.

Dinner was delicious, and both Kristen and Patty insisted on helping me clean the dishes. My mother had long since stopped complaining about guests, even Kristen, helping with chores. After dinner, Patty and Kristen went upstairs with me “to listen to some music,” as I explained to my parents.

My mother had no doubts about what Kristen and I did upstairs together, and she knew that I once had a sexual relationship with Patty. She probably wasn’t exactly sure what the three of us would do together, though—and she probably didn’t really want to know.

At one time, my Mom thought that I was dealing dope, which would explain why pretty twelfth graders were suddenly showing an interest in me, but she hadn’t mentioned anything to me about that in the last week or so. Even so, from time to time, I would notice that things in my room would move, subtly, as if my mother was looking for my non-existent stash. I didn’t have a problem with that, as she was just being a mother and being careful. I had nothing in my room that I needed to hide from my mother—not even Playboy magazines!

Once we got upstairs, Kristen sat Patty and me on my bed, and told me to explain to Patty what I had said about Sherry and Camille. She then knelt between my legs, unzipped my pants, and took out my penis. She then casually started to suck me in front of Patty.

I shrugged at Patty, who understood Kristen’s addiction. She saw Kristen do this before. Despite Kristen’s distraction, I explained to Patty as best I could about my trying to become friends with Sherry, and about Camille’s suggestion concerning cheerleader tryouts.

“Cammy has a good point,” Patty said. “Lynette and Camille have been on a crusade to make the cheerleaders more than just a popularity contest. This year, they have a killer squad. Too bad Cammy and Lynette are seniors. I don’t know who will take up the mantle next year.”

“So, what do you think of our ideas?” I asked Patty.

“Well, Jim,” Patty said slowly. “You can’t play with Sherry’s emotions. If she has an infatuation with you, then Cammy might be correct that if Sherry finds another interest, like cheerleading, she might forget about you, but I really don’t think it will be that simple. You must remember, however, that she might still resent you for ignoring her, and she probably sees Kristen as her competition.”

I winced. I hadn’t told either girl about Sherry’s outburst right after they had left.

“She does hate Kristen,” I said, softly.

Kristen moved off my dick with an audible pop. “Huh?”

“She thinks you hurt her cousin. And she told me that I’m in love with you only because of your money.”

“I thought she would think something like that,” said Patty. “You see, Kristen, you are the bad person in her mind. You stole Jim away from her, even if you had no idea how she felt.”

Kristen looked longingly at my erect phallus, and then back to Patty. “I was right about hating her, then.”

Patty shook her head. “No. Don’t take it personally. Sherry’s reacting to you partly because of her cousin, and partly because of her feelings for Jim.”

Kristen sighed. “Perhaps. So I now have two people to watch out for?”

“Maybe,” Patty said.

Patty looked thoughtful, and nobody said anything for a few minutes.

Kristen saw that my rod was still hard, and resumed her pleasant sucking. Patty watched Kristen’s slow, languorous movements, and said, wistfully, “Now I know how she feels about that.”

Kristen ignored Patty’s remark. She was still a bit angry that I gave Patty a sample of Kristen’s addiction, but having made the mistake with Kristen, I only made Patty’s addiction for a short time period.

“Do you still want me to give you, like, a key word?” I asked Patty, referring to a suggestion that Patty had once given to me about giving her a way to turn such an addition on or off at will.

“Well, Jim… I don’t know,” Patty admitted. “You were probably right to turn me down when I asked. There’s a part of me that really liked feeling that, but I’m afraid if I do it again, the taste will be a big let down. That’s the scary part. I don’t want the let down.”

Kristen gave no sign of hearing Patty and me as her mouth started going faster up and down my cock. Her oral technique didn’t require the use of her hands, except for support on my thighs. Kristen simply moved her head up and down, using her lips and throat to stimulate my organ. Occasionally, she would take me deep, her lips almost touching my pubic hair. She would also vary her suction in a way that really got my balls churning.

With Kristen, sucking cock was an act of love. She didn’t really think about what she was doing, but instead did whatever seemed right at the time, and she’d invariably be correct. She’d react to my responses, alternately going for a quick release or a long, slow, leisurely suck, depending on her mood. She probably had the ability to keep me erect without bringing me to orgasm for hours if she wanted to do so, although I was very happy that she had never tested such an ability on me.

This time Kristen was going for a quick release, although not too quick. I felt my insides turn to jelly as my hips thrust up at her, my release imminent.

Kristen stopped her sucking, pulling her mouth off my penis and moving her head away from my body. The chain reaction she started continued, although I was feeling a bit frustrated as she took me quite close to the edge without actually bringing me to the point of release.

The next thing I knew, Kristen moved a couple of fingers lightly down the shaft of my cock, and the reaction started up again energetically. In less than a second, I was shooting spurt after spurt of my semen into the air. Kristen simply smiled at me, not putting her mouth on my cock, allowing my lap to become a sticky and gooey mess.

Before I could say anything, Kristen returned her mouth to my cock, and started to lick up my seed, using her fingers to push the various droplets onto her tongue.

I looked at Patty, who seemed transfixed by Kristen’s wanton display. Patty saw me look at her, and she said, quietly, “I haven’t seen the two of you doing that since my aunt passed away.”

“We missed you, Patty,” I said.

It took Kristen about five minutes to clean up the mess that the two of us made. Satisfied with a job well done, she put my dick back in my pants and pulled up my slacks. She saw me looking at Patty, and went over to Patty and kissed her. I knew that Kristen still had some of my semen in her mouth, and the two girls kissed for about thirty seconds. I could see from their faces that they were exchanging tongues together.

It wasn’t the first time in my life that I wondered how it would be to have a threesome with Patty. It was a wicked idea, but truth be told, the only vagina that I wanted to sink my dick into belonged to a Goddess with the long and sexy blonde hair.

I was next in line for Kristen’s kiss, and we shared a tender kiss together. I tasted my sperm in her mouth—it wasn’t the first time, and I was getting quite used to it by now.

Patty and I kissed afterward. Again, I could faintly taste my semen in Patty’s mouth as well, confirming my observations.

Suddenly, I had an idea. “Kristen, why don’t you become friends with her?”

“Patty?” Kristen asked. “We’re already friends.”

“No… Sherry.”

“I don’t even know her,” Kristen said. “You said that she hates me.”

“That’s because she doesn’t know you.”

Patty interrupted. “That’s not a good idea. It would be coming unexpectedly, and she’ll be suspicious as hell. Anything that Kristen does now will be suspect in her eyes.”

I knew that my idea had merit, but Patty had a good point. “OK. Then, Sherry will have to make friends with Kristen.”

“How?” the two girls said in unison.

“I’ll give her an incentive,” I suggested. “If she wants to kiss me, it will have to be with Kristen’s blessing.”

“She is not going to kiss you again,” Kristen said firmly.

There was a thoughtful look on Patty’s face. “Jim may have the germ of an idea. I think that Camille may be able to help us.”

“How?”

“First, I’ll need to talk with Cammy,” Patty answered. “I need to see how serious she is about Sherry being a cheerleader.”

Kristen and I looked at one another, a bit confused, but assured by the fact that Patty had a sensible head on her shoulders.

We came downstairs at about eight thirty. The girls thanked my mother for supper, and gave me kisses as they left for Kristen’s house. I watched the two girls drive away in Kristen’s Camaro.

I went back upstairs to do my homework, and went to bed at eleven.

* * *

Kristen picked me up the next morning, and I noticed Patty wasn’t with her. “She took her own car,” Kristen explained.

I nodded. We didn’t say much during the drive to school. At the school, I found Patty talking animatedly with Camille. She saw the two of us and the two girls waved at Kristen and me.

I found Sherry in history class at first period. Our roles seemed comically reversed; I was the one searching her out, and she looked a bit apprehensive when she saw me.

There were a few minutes before the first bell, and I gave Sherry my warmest smile.

“Cammy and I talked about you after we dropped you off,” I told her.

Sherry nodded, and after a couple of seconds, she asked, “Was she serious about me becoming a cheerleader?”

“Camille kids a lot, but not about cheerleading,” I informed Sherry. “She said that she would prefer a girl that knows gymnastics over what she called the untalented bimbos that she normally sees going out as candidates.”

“I’m intrigued by the thought, but I’m afraid she was just being nice.”

“Cammy is a nice person, but when she said you’d be an ideal candidate, I knew that she meant it.”

“I’ll need to think on it,” Sherry said just as the bell rang, signaling the start of class.

* * *

I saw Kristen in the lunchroom at fourth period. I went to our accustomed table and found my blonde Goddess, but Patty wasn’t there. Kristen noticed me looking, and said, “Patty found Camille when she got here. She has third period lunch. Anyway, the two girls left together.”

A few people in my grade passed behind me. “Hey, Oogie!”

“Oogie?” Kristen asked.

I sighed. “He’s in the chorus. I think everybody in the school knows about that session I set up for you the first day. The guys in the chorus started calling me ‘Oogie’ after the ‘Ouga Chaka’ chorus of that song.”

“Oogie. That’s cute!”

“Don’t you start!” I cried, dismayed that even my own girlfriend would sink so low as to call me that.

I looked around the cafeteria for Sherry, but I couldn’t find her. I knew she had this period for lunch.

“Who are you looking for, Oogie?”

I sighed, resigned to the fact that Kristen now had a new pet name for me. At least it was better than that “Jimma” name that Patty had used for a day or two when I first met her and Camille. Patty had only used that name affectionately, and only for a very short period, but even so, I really preferred the name “Jim.”

“I was looking for Sherry. She usually has lunch this period.”

Kristen shrugged. I was glad that Kristen didn’t seem too jealous about Sherry right now.

“I have practice this afternoon,” I told Kristen, reminding her that my little jazz ensemble met after school.

“Patty said that she and Cammy would be sticking around after school as well. I’d like to know what Patty has planned.”

“So you won’t be watching our rehearsal? Amy will miss you.”

Amy was a piano player that had recently joined the jazz band on a recommendation from Mr. Proilet. She was a junior whose family apparently just moved into town during the summer. She was short and had black hair with vaguely Oriental looks. She played the piano flawlessly, although her only experience was with classical music. For her “improv” solos, she simply played chords, a trick that I taught her. I hoped that she’d learn to become more creative before our concert. Mr. Proilet, the music teacher, figured that the more fluid styles used in jazz may be useful for Amy.

Amy and Kristen hit it off immediately. Kristen usually sat next to Amy, careful not to get in the way when she was playing. The two talked together softly and unobtrusively when I was focusing on other musicians during practice.

“I’ll try to sneak in sometime,” Kristen said.

* * *

Kristen managed to sneak in about fifteen minutes into the rehearsal. I saw Amy’s eyes light up when she noticed Kristen walking over to her.

One of Amy’s qualities was extreme shyness. She never spoke to me or anybody else—except Kristen—unless she had to answer a direct question, and even then, she spoke as little as possible—just enough to answer the question.

Kristen, on the other hand, seemed to click with Amy. I never asked her the secret in getting through to Amy, and made a mental note to do so in the future.

The band was shaping up nicely, and we had a couple of students working lights and audio electronics. Our concert in a couple of months was destined to be a true work of art.

At the end of rehearsal, I received a couple of other suggestions for songs for the concert, and I turned to the people making the suggestions and asked if they could set up the start of a master score for me. The students weren’t particularly happy about that. I think they expected me to do all the scoring, but if I did that, how would the other students learn, right? I told them that I’d be quite willing to help, either during music class at third period, or maybe occasionally during fourth period or after school. I also mentioned that Mr. Proilet might be able to help.

I finally let the band go, and Kristen ran up to me. “The band is sounding really great, Oogie!”

The nickname earned me some snickers from the band members, who were familiar with that name, but had the good sense not to call me that in public. However, now that Kristen publicly broke the unofficial code of silence, everybody in the band would make it a point to say goodbye to me, as in, “See you around, Oogie.”

“Thanks a lot,” I sighed later to Kristen. “The name ‘Oogie’ will help a lot with discipline.”

“I figured you’d need a challenge, Oogie.”

I sighed, resigned to the fact that this new nickname would probably stick. Why did I have to say anything to Kristen about that name?

Kristen drove me home. Since it was Thursday, the two of us wouldn’t be doing anything together. It didn’t bother me, really. I had Friday and Saturday night to look forward to, with Kristen and me spending real quality time together.

* * *

The next weekend had Kristen and me changing our schedule.

Monday was my step-sister Merry’s birthday, and she was going to have a party on Saturday. The weather cooperated; although it was cool, there wasn’t any sign of impending rain.

Merry invited a few girls from her school to a picnic at the park near our house. My parents were chaperons, and Kristen and I volunteered to help as well.

At first, the other girls seemed a bit daunted by Kristen. She was, after all, about three or four years older than most of them, which was an eternity for budding teenagers. Kristen managed to win them over by being her usual lovely self and I found that she had an impressive mind for remembering all the girls’ names (an ability that I to this day have yet to master).

Kristen brought along a couple of dodge balls and some chalk, and the girls drew “four square” courts in the mostly deserted parking lot. Kristen also had a silver coach’s whistle and volunteered to referee the game.

After watching the girls for a few rounds, I picked up the rules to the game. Kristen produced another whistle for me, and four more girls set up another court nearby.

Merry’s father had the job to start the grill and cook hamburgers and hot dogs. After an hour or so, the food was ready. Kristen and I whistled the girls back to the picnic tables, where my mother had potato salad, coleslaw, macaroni salad, Frito’s, and potato chips set out for the girls.

After lunch, the girls went onto the grass with a couple of Frisbees. I watched in amusement as the girls threw the discs in many directions except for where they intended them to go. Watching that reminded me of Marla and Doreen, the two girls that Jack and I met a month back at this same park. I looked wistfully at the willow tree where I had taken liberties with Marla, and once again felt a twinge of guilt at my boorish behavior back then.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Kristen said, noticing my distraction.

“Oh, I was just thinking back. It was only a few weeks ago that Jack and I used to come here and throw the Frisbee back and forth. Now, I hardly see him at all. I see his sister more than I see him nowadays.”

“Jack? Patrice’s brother?” Kristen asked.

“Yeah. We used to be best friends. Still are, I guess.”

“Let me guess,” Kristen said. “The two of you lost touch with each other when you discovered… um… Patty and her friends.”

I nodded, understanding that Kristen was referring to the tickets that I found in a roundabout way. She had been “wished” to not reveal their existence to others, and I think this was a manifestation of it.

“Feeling guilty?” Kristen asked.

I looked at Kristen sharply, wondering if she knew about Marla, but there wasn’t any suspicion on her face.

Kristen, remained silent, a bit unusual for her. After a minute or so, she broke her silence. “What did you want to do for dinner tonight?”

The change of subject was welcome. “My parents are taking Merry to Vaughn’s tonight. They invited us, but I suggested that the two of us might have other plans.”

“Other plans?” asked Kristen, smiling.

“I remember a place you took me called Emilio’s. I thought we’d go there instead.”

“Oh?” Kristen asked, her smile getting bigger. “Think you’ll get lucky again?”

“Any guy that has somebody as wonderful as you must have all the luck in the world already.”

I’m not exactly sure why I said that. It just blurted out.

“You know, Jim. You are the sweetest guy in the whole world.”

My mother was setting up dessert plates for Merry’s birthday cake, and I got up and volunteered to get the cake from the car. While I was there, I found a little wrapped box that I had hidden in the car as well, and pocketed it.

After I got the cake, my mother gave me a lighter and had me set up the candles. The wind was blowing, but it wasn’t too blustery for the birthday cake.

Meanwhile, Kristen was rounding up all the girls for dessert. I lit the candles and then there was a group of girls surrounding the main picnic table.

Everybody sang “Happy Birthday” to Merry, who squealed in delight when she managed to blow out all the candles on her first try, aided a bit by a lucky gust of wind. My mother allowed Merry to cut the first piece of birthday cake, and then took over the chore of cutting all the pieces for everybody.

There was a stack of presents from Merry’s friends, and she started opening them. Kristen had a couple of bags to collect the discarded wrapping paper, and my step-father kept track of the cards that Merry received.

Most of Merry’s presents were girlish things like brushes, hair ties, with a few plush toys thrown in for good measure. Merry and her friends oohed and aahed as she opened each one, and she thanked each of her friends with a quick kiss before going to the next.

I knew that my parents were saving Merry’s presents for Monday, so when Merry was finished with all her gifts, I pulled out my little box from my pocket.

“For me?” asked Merry. “Thank you, Jim!”

“Open it,” I suggested.

Merry tore off the paper and opened the box to find a silver identification bracelet. I had the name “Shortcake” engraved on it. I had rummaged through my room trying to find enough of my own money to make the purchase.

“Jim! It’s wonderful!” Merry cooed, and ran into my arms to give me my kiss.

“As long as you like the name,” I said to my step-sister. “I know you didn’t like it a few months ago, but you don’t seem to mind it any more.”

“Is it from you and Kristen?” Merry asked.

“No, Merry,” Kristen answered for me. “I took Jim to the mall, but he had his own money for this present. You’ll get my present later on.”

Kristen’s announcement impressed even my mother, who beamed at me in a manner that soon had me cringing in embarrassment in front of nearly a dozen of Merry’s friends.

“Thank you, Jim!” Merry said, and kissed me again.

“Nothing but the best for you, kid!”

My step-father suggested that we start eating the cake, and soon everybody had plates of devil’s food cake with chocolate icing in front of him or her. That particular cake was Merry’s favorite, and the girls soon made short work of it.

The girls’ parents were due to arrive about this time, and I suggested that my parents take the girls back to the parking lot while Kristen and I did the clean up. My mother looked at me questioningly, but I nodded and she shook her head. I think she was impressed in seeing how much I had matured over the last month or so.

Kristen and I worked as a well-oiled machine, and it only took us about five minutes to get things cleaned up. We put everything where they were supposed to go: the trash bag, one of the coolers, or stored in my mother’s picnic basket.

Kristen and I were just sitting at the table when my parents came back with Merry and her friend Beth.

“You did a pretty good job of cleaning up,” my mother commented.

“Well, after you did all the work of cooking and setting up the meal, it was the least we could do,” I explained.

My mother looked at me, and then at Kristen. She smiled.

“Thank you—both of you!”

“No problem, Ma.”

“It was a fun party,” Kristen answered.

“We’re taking Beth home with us,” Mom explained. “Her parents will pick her up from our house at four. Are you sure the two of you aren’t interested in going out tonight?”

“We’re sure,” Kristen answered before I could. “We’ll see you tomorrow at the flea market, all right?”

My mother understood that Kristen was insinuating that I’d be spending the night with her. I had never seen my mother confronted with this fact in any public situation, especially with Merry’s friend nearby.

Mom looked at the two of us and slowly smiled. “All right, you two. Thank you for helping out today.”

The two of us helped my parents load the bags and cooler into the car. I lugged all the garbage to one of the trash bins at the end of the parking lot.

As I got back to the car, it was just starting up. Kristen was waving good-bye, so I did the same. In a minute, my parents were gone.

I smiled at my little blonde Goddess. We now had the rest of the day to ourselves.

I walked to Kristen in the deserted parking lot and pulled her into a deep kiss. Kristen’s embrace was warm and inviting.

As we pulled apart, Kristen said, “So, Jim. Tell me about the girl in the willow tree.”

I think my jaw dropped onto the parking lot pavement. “What?”

“Tell me about the girl in the willow tree. I think your friend Jack was involved, wasn’t he?”

“What? How?”

“Uh, huh. Those are two good places to start. What happened, and how? When and why would also be appreciated, too.”

I was too dumbfounded to answer. I was very confused. How did Kristen know?

Kristen waited patiently for a couple of minutes, and realized that I was too confused to answer.

“Jim,” Kristen said, “A couple of weeks ago, I suggested that willow tree would be someplace nice to be alone. You changed the subject quickly. Today, I saw you glancing at the tree, and when I mentioned it, you started babbling something about your friend Jack. You were definitely leaving something out. What would you not tell me, huh? The only thing I could figure was another girl. Therefore, you had a girl inside the branches of that willow tree, and something must have happened or you would have told me. You mentioned Jack, so he was involved as well.”

It was like having Sherlock Holmes’ sister for a girlfriend!

“You’re pretty smart,” I said in awe, very impressed with Kristen’s deductive reasoning.

“And you’re changing the subject,” Kristen said, her eyes blazing at me.

My “little blonde Goddess” was going to find out, one way or another.

I sighed, and then told Kristen the story—the whole story—about Marla and Doreen, when I first found my tickets. I made Marla fall madly in love with me, and I took advantage of her by making her suck me inside the branches of the willow tree. This was the afternoon before I met Patty and her friends at the mall, and it all happened before I knew Kristen.

Kristen listened to my story, not asking any questions until I was finished.

“So, you were a busy little bee when you found those tickets?”

I cast my eyes down to the ground. “Yeah,” I answered, sheepishly.

“First Patrice, then this Marla. Then there was Patty, Camille, and Wendy. And then me?”

“That’s about right,” I answered.

“That isn’t right. You’ve left out somebody.”

“Huh?”

“When you told me the story about Patrice, you already knew about the tickets,” Kristen pointed out. “You found out that it would work on people and that girls would do whatever you said. You never told me how you figured out that they had these magical powers.”

I didn’t answer, but I felt myself getting redder.

“Oh, shit,” Kristen said, looking at me.

“What?” I asked, surprised at Kristen’s reaction.

“You had Merry blow you, too?” Kristen asked.

“No! Never!” I protested.

Kristen looked at me, and then nodded. “That’s right. You said that Patrice was the first one to do that to you. What happened with Merry?”

I sighed. Kristen was a fucking mind reader!

“I gave her a ticket, and she did the ‘You have one wish’ thing. I thought she was playing a game, so I tried to play along. When it appeared that she was serious, I had her undress. I didn’t make her do anything with me. I mean that!”

Kristen looked at me for a long time. “All right.”

I knew that Kristen suspected more happened with Merry, but she relented.

I felt completely humiliated and embarrassed. It was one thing for me to think myself to be a monster when I was alone in my thoughts. It was another thing to have my past behavior brought into open discussion.

Warm lips met mine; I was surprised as Kristen kissed me. This was a warmer kiss than before—one of Kristen’s patented erection specials. She giggled as she felt my reaction, even as she continued to kiss me.

As Kristen and I broke the kiss, Kristen said, “Don’t be too embarrassed, Jim. I know that you are a good person at heart. You were a kid in a candy shop. I already told you my first time was with Will.”

Will was Kristen’s brother, who was living somewhere in New England attending college.

I nodded at Kristen.

“So, I understand.”

“I guess,” I said.

Kristen kissed my cheek lightly, and then said, “We need to stop at Vaughn’s.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I need to set up my birthday gift for your sister.”

“At Vaughn’s?” I asked, following Kristen to her Camaro.

Kristen and I drove to Vaughn’s, where we ate frequently. The host recognized the two of us, and asked, “Booth for two?”

“No,” Kristen answered. “We would like to purchase some gift certificates.”

The host nodded. “In the amount?”

“The first one is a free meal for three in the name Meredith Cummings. She will be arriving here tonight with her parents. Meredith is turning fifteen on Monday.”

“I see,” answered the host.

“The second is to be a coupon for a Belly Buster dessert that she can use anytime on or after Monday.”

The host smiled. “We actually have Belly Buster coupons like that.”

“Cool. Tell her that if she wants the Belly Buster tonight, it’s on the free meal certificate. The coupon is for some other time, maybe when she brings a friend or two.”

The host said, “I’ll inform her.”

“Great. Here’s my American Express card.”

The host took the card and said, “Certainly, Miss Swift. It will be five dollars for the coupon and whatever the bill is for the meal tonight.”

Kristen smiled. “Add a twenty percent tip for whoever waits on them.”

“No problem.” The host ran the card through an imprinting device and handed the blank receipt to Kristen. She signed her name on it.

“Thank you,” Kristen said.

“Miss Swift? Would you mind if we added candles to her dessert and sang Happy Birthday?”

“I think Merry would be tickled pink!” Kristen turned to me and asked, “Jim, do you have a picture of Merry?”

Actually, I did. I took out my wallet, which had Merry’s school picture from last year in it.

Kristen smiled at the portrait, and showed it to the host. “Do you think you would recognize her? She and her parents will be arriving around six.”

The host looked at the picture and smiled. “This is Meredith Cummings?”

“Yes,” Kristen and I answered together.

The host smiled and he said, “I’ll have no problem remembering her. I’ve seen her here before. Will the two of you be dining with us tonight, also?”

“No,” Kristen answered. “Jim and I have other plans, but we’ll be seeing you very soon again.”

“Thank you, Miss Swift, and Mr. Jim.”

The two of us left. Kristen’s largess impressed me. “I hope that they don’t decide to go elsewhere,” I said.

“Not likely,” Kristen smiled. “Merry told me earlier today that she was looking forward to a Belly Buster tonight.”

I smiled and then remembered something that bothered me. “Don’t you feel worried about signing a receipt without a total on it?”

Kristen smiled. “The manager knows me, and he knows that we eat there a lot. If they try to rip me off, I might tell the police or, even worse, the newspapers. There could possibly be a lawsuit, since my father uses lawyers all the time. People in that line of work know that bad publicity could kill a restaurant overnight.”

“Oh. I didn’t think about that.”

“Actually, I don’t expect him to do anything like that. Since he knows we come in often, he’ll probably wait until I show up at the restaurant in a few days. He’ll then bring me your family’s bill, itemized. He’ll even let me put in my own tip, which will probably be more than the twenty percent that I promised because of his thoughtfulness. I’ll then total the receipt myself. The only reason I gave him my card in advance is procedure. It assures him that I genuinely intend to pay the bill, even if I were to forget about it later. It minimizes the risk to the restaurant. Even if a mistake happens and I am overcharged, I have enough money to cover it.”

“I guess,” I said.

I was learning a lot about money from just being with Kristen. “So, where are we headed now, Kris?”

Kristen smiled sweetly. “Let’s fuck!”

What answer would you expect me to give to that question?

Chapter 3—Kristen’s Request

I’m not tryin’ to be your hero,

‘Cause that zero is too cold for me, Brrr!

I’m not tryin’ to be your highness,

‘Cause that minus is too low to see, yeah!

Billy Preston

Nothin’ From Nothin’

As it happened, we didn’t actually fuck when we got to Kristen’s house. Instead, we ended up playing gin in Kristen’s playroom.

Kristen’s playroom was actually an apartment that was over the garage at her parents’ house. It had a living room, kitchen, bathroom, and a bedroom and was probably big enough for a married couple to live in comfortably. Actually, the only part of the building that was being used by the Swifts was the actual garage, which housed two of Kristen’s father’s cars and Kristen’s Camaro, and Kristen’s playroom. There were other apartments unused in the building.

The walls and furniture of the playroom were beige and brown, and the motif followed with slight variations throughout the entire apartment. For example, the kitchen had more yellow accents, and the bathroom was brighter, like an ivory color.

Kristen’s playroom was a place where she could get away from it all. Before I came into Kristen’s life, she told me she mostly played board games and cards there with her older brother before he left for college. Alone in the playroom, she would play solitaire or curl up on one of the overstuffed chairs and read a book. Kristen also had a Pong game console for her television that she played with occasionally.

Since the two of us started going together, we found ourselves referring to the place as our own, as opposed to just being Kristen’s playroom. Each of us had long ago decided on our favorite chairs or pillows in the living room and the kitchen, and we even had our own sides of the bed when we would sleep together. I never for once actually considered this place as mine, actually, but Kristen took to calling it “our” playroom, and the idea stuck.

When we got into the playroom, we both saw a deck of cards on the cocktail table, and we instantly decided to play cards. From playing against Kristen, I was starting to learn more strategy in the card games we played. Due to the fact that card games still had an element of luck in them, I occasionally found myself winning, although pretty infrequently. Kristen was really an ace at every card game we’ve ever played.

We found out early on in our relationship that playing cards allowed us to talk, and we found out lots of things about each other during those games.

As we played gin, I asked Kristen about her parents. “Kris, can you tell me why your parents don’t seem to mind you dating me? After all, I’m younger than you, and they know that we’re sleeping together.”

Kristen started dealing a new hand and said, “Well, Mom is a bit older than Dad, so it’s not that strange to them.”

“Sherry said something about me only being interested in your money. Surely your folks might suspect the same thing.”

Kristen actually laughed. “Jim, with those tickets, you could probably get me to give you all the money I have and I’d probably be happy doing that for you, even without any tickets. You haven’t done anything like that.”

“But I let you pay when we go out,” I said.

“That’s only because I have money. Who pays isn’t really important.”

“But others…”

“Fuck the others,” Kristen said. “I have the money, so I pay. It’s simple as that. I don’t tell you how to run your jazz band rehearsals and you have never asked me to buy you jewelry or anything else that I can recall. You don’t have much money, and you should be saving up for college. You are lucky that you don’t have to work at Jack in the Box or at some pizza joint to earn spare cash.”

I wasn’t too convinced, but Kristen continued.

“Look, at the mall, when you got that bracelet for Merry, I didn’t insist on paying. You paid for it, and because you did so, it meant more as a gift to Merry. Right?”

“Well, of course!”

“It works the other way as well. Dinner isn’t a big fucking deal!”

“I was just worried that your parents might think I was after their money.”

That got a big laugh. “Their money? They have their will set up so that if anything happens to them, all their money goes to Will!”

“Will? Do you mean your brother?”

“Yeah. I don’t need their money. They know it.”

I looked at Kristen as if she had two heads.

Kristen looked confused for a few moments, and then said, softly. “Oh. I never told you.”

“Told me what?”

“Wait a second…” Kristen said, looking at the cards in her hand and picking up my last discard. “Gin!”

“Fuck! Stop changing the subject!”

I didn’t bother counting my points. I was way over the point total.

Kristen pushed the deck away and smiled. “Look, Jim. We’ve established that you aren’t after my parents’ money. Isn’t that correct?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you feel now that I’ve told you that I won’t be inheriting anything from my parents? Maybe the house—I think that Will and I will split that, but he’s not going to be moving back here. I get Mom’s jewelry. Most everything else goes to Will.”

“It doesn’t sound fair, but you don’t seem to want it. Is that what you’re saying?”

Kristen nodded. “Yes, honey. Does that upset you?”

“No. I guess not. I guess I better go to college and land a good job so I can support us.”

That elicited a smile from Kristen. She opened up the cocktail table and deposited the cards inside. “Ever play Uno?”

“Uno? Is that French?”

“The word is Spanish, silly! It’s basically Crazy Eights with a special deck.”

“I’m game.”

“With two people, it’s a quick game. It’s killer with four. I should think of it when Patty and the others come over. I have about eight decks. I even have special rules when we have lots of people.”

“How about the normal game?” I asked, leery about Kristen’s “special rules.”

Kristen explained the basic concept of the game to me. I caught on quickly, and we started playing. Since strategy didn’t help much with only two players in this game, I figured that for once, I might even have a small chance of beating Kristen at cards.

“Jim?” Kristen asked after I won a round.

“Yes?”

“You’re really willing to support me?”

“I’d sail to the moon for you, my Goddess!”

Kristen swooned. “You are pretty romantic. You should write stories.”

“I have enough trouble writing music arrangements. Why would you ask if I’d really support you? Of course I would.”

“I have expensive tastes. I’ve grown up with all this,” Kristen added.

“I’d have to be a pretty serious composer. How much does Leonard Bernstein make, anyway?”

Kristen giggled. “Jim Crittenhouse, ace composer.”

“Yup. West Chicago Story, starring Kristen Swift as the Goddess. And Jim Crittenhouse as Tony.”

“Most musicians don’t earn much. You know that.”

I nodded my head. “Is that why you’re suggesting that I write stories?”

With a shake of her head, Kristen disagreed. “No. You are very sweet and romantic. What would you do?”

“I’d love you with all my heart, my fair lady. We’d live on love and happiness.”

“No idea, huh?”

“Nope. We’re young. We have our whole lives in front of us.”

“What if I told you money wouldn’t matter?”

I sighed. “I’ve been trying to tell you that.”

“No. You were trying to say that we’d learn to live and love without it. I’m saying we wouldn’t have to live without it.”

“We’d borrow it from your brother?”

“No. In fact, if anything, he might borrow money from us.”

“I’m totally confused.”

“In three months, my inheritance is officially mine.”

“You’ve been talking about inheritance. You said you aren’t inheriting anything. I’m getting confused. Are you just confusing me to get my goat?”

“No,” Kristen explained, her face serious. “And I’m definitely not kidding, either. Will inherits most of my parents’ money.”

“Even if your parents die in three months, then, you don’t inherit anything other than the house and some jewelry, you said.”

“Yes.”

I was now confused. Didn’t somebody have to die for someone to get an inheritance? Kristen seemed to be intentionally confusing me. I really didn’t give a damn about her money, really.

I started to play another hand. If Kristen was going to explain herself, that she could do it. I started concentrating on my hand, which had a couple of Draw-Four cards in it. It looked like I was going to win another round.

“Jim, I turn eighteen in three months.”

“So?”

“I’ve already received my inheritance, but it’s in a trust fund.”

“But your parents are alive, and you’re not inheriting anything from them.”

“Yeah,” Kristen said seriously. She put her cards face down on the table. “You see, my grandfather on my father’s side was the one that made the family fortune. My father and he had a bit of a falling out years before I was born, and they didn’t speak to one another for years.”

“Sounds like Mom and my real dad,” I said.

“Well, my grandfather died right after I was born. He had a heart attack, I think, or was it a stroke? Anyway, in his will he had left his money to his wife, who had died a few years before he died, and any living blood relatives with the specific exception of my father. I was, and still am, the only living relative, so the money is now in a trust fund. I get a stipend from the interest of the balance, about two hundred thousand dollars a year, but my mother has it mostly reinvested back into the principal. American Express and my “allowance” come from that, and it’s nowhere near that amount. I get control of the fund when I’m eighteen, although there are some stipulations that prevent major withdrawals until I’m twenty-one, and there are some investments that won’t mature until I’m twenty-five.”

“You mean…”

“Yeah. The money is in a trust account, looked over by a bank selected by the executor of my grandfather’s estate. My dad had money from before my grandfather died. Up until recently, we only used my trust fund for collateral on the loan on our house, but Dad paid that off many years ago. In addition, I bought the apartment where Will lives in Cambridge and promised to pay for his first four years in college. My money’s just sitting in a bank earning lots of interest right now. As I said, the bank pays me an ‘allowance’ of sorts on an annual basis, but I have never really needed much of it. Since my parents already have plenty of money, my mother arranges for the American Express card and some ready cash for me and we redeposit what I don’t need. If I really needed money, I could actually get about sixteen thousand dollars a month. Of course, the interest rates may have changed, and the principal is now larger, but you get the picture.”

Something didn’t add up. “You said that you were the only relative, Kris,” I pointed out. “What about your brother Will?”

“Will’s not a blood relative,” Kristen explained. “My parents didn’t think that they could have children, so they adopted Will. Then, a year or so later, I was born.” Kristen shrugged. “I guess they were able to have children after all. As it stood, I was, and still am, the only living blood relative. I have an Aunt Honey, but she’s a friend of my parents, and not really a relative. I don’t even have any cousins. It’s just me.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Will has been more than a brother to me. He was also my best and only friend for the longest time. I know I told you that he was my first… the first guy I had sex with. We actually did it more than a few times. Last time was a couple of months ago when I visited him in Boston.”

“Oh,” I said, not sure what to say. I had, of course, known about Kristen’s first time with her brother, although I had never asked (nor really wanted to know) about the gory details. Hearing Kristen describe her relationship with her brother, especially the part where it seemed to be ongoing, however, made me feel a bit uneasy for some reason. Why this was, though, I couldn’t put a finger on it.

“Shit,” Kristen said, looking at me.

“What?” I asked.

“I hadn’t told you about all this,” Kristen said, “mostly because you didn’t ask.”

“I told you, the money isn’t that important.”

“But you’re jealous. There is really more that you need to know about me. Yeah, I’m rich. And I’ll take care of Will and my family, if necessary, and still have enough money to live very comfortably just on the interest alone. Will is special—very special to me. Please don’t be jealous. You don’t need to be.”

Jealousy? Was that what I was feeling? I was stunned.

“I’m not jealous,” I protested.

Kristen said, “You haven’t met Will. Maybe I’ll arrange a trip for the two of us to see him in Boston. We have a nice apartment there. I promise you that you’ll like him.”

I didn’t know how to answer this, especially the “we have an apartment” part. I didn’t say anything.

Kristen tried to find the right words. “Will isn’t you, Jim. He was, and still is, a very good friend to me. He is also my brother. I’ve talked to him quite a bit about you. I once thought of him as a lover, but we always knew that we wouldn’t be able to live together as husband and wife, and we both understand that.”

Kristen smiled at me. “Anyway, Will has this mystical way about him. I’ve told him about you and he really likes you, and has told me that he thinks that you’re a ‘keeper.’”

“He called me a ‘keeper?’” I repeated, now smiling. “That’s how Mom described you when I first brought you over for dinner.”

Kristen giggled. “Wow. Talk about coincidences! Anyway, you remember the day you made me a junkie?”

I lowered my eyes. Yes, I remembered that. Kristen didn’t talk about it that often, thank goodness. “Yeah,” I said, dejected.

Kristen knew I still harbored a lot of guilt over that. “I called Will collect that day,” she continued, “but I never got through to him. He was out, I guess. You don’t know how strange that was to me, Jim. It’s as if he always answers my calls on the first ring, as if he is expecting me to call that very second. This was one of the first times in my life that I turned to him and he wasn’t there. I didn’t really know who you were, or how you made me do the things I did. To tell you the truth, even now I don’t know what to make of your damned tickets. Anyway, I was thinking about moving out to Boston to be with him and to get away from you, but the reality was that you had made me addicted to you. There was no way for me to leave. The cravings were horrible! I was stuck here with you. Luckily, things have worked out since, and I’m still here.” Kristen gave me one of her killer smiles. “See! Happy ending!”

I looked at Kristen. She was smiling at me, having forgiven me a while ago. Now, of course, we were lovers.

Kristen picked up her cards, and then played a perfect sequence of Reverse, Skip, Draw-Two cards, then played a Draw-Four, called “Red” and played a red nine. Her hand was empty, and I looked at my hand… the two Draw Fours were one hundred points right there, and I had six more cards from the draw pile on top of that.

“Fuck!” I said, looking at the cards in my hand with disgust. “Some fuckin’ happy ending! My hand looks like a basketball score!”

“Oh, you!” Kristen smiled.

I put my cards down. “So, the interest on your inheritance is sixteen hundred bucks a month?”

“Sixteen thousand dollars, actually, but it may be earning more interest than that, now. A financial manager actually runs the fund, and he has it invested in stocks, bonds, and a few other things. Occasionally I can request specific stocks and investments, sometimes because of suggestions my father makes, but mostly for sentimental value. For example, I have a thousand shares in Disney because I liked Mickey Mouse when I was younger. Or was it ten thousand? I forget.” Kristen smiled. “Anyway, there’s a CPA that does the income taxes and other things, and my mother and I cosign the papers once a year after the accountants tell me what they have done with my money. When the money is officially mine, I’ll set things up so that I have a bit more control of what happens with my money.”

The numbers were simply astronomical for me. “I’d rather just not have to worry about money.”

“Well, it’s not much to worry about. In three months, as I said, I’m entitled to it. The fund manager renegotiates his salary based on the performance of the fund over the past year. That, the annual briefing about my finances, and signing tax forms each year is about as much as we will have to worry about if we don’t want to worry about it.”

I had gotten used to Kristen’s way of thinking that marriage between us was just a matter of formality. I loved her; she loved me. Now we wouldn’t have to worry about money. What more could a guy ask for?

I had an answer to that question. I wanted to be the person that provided for Kristen if we got married. The fact that she had boatloads of money didn’t seem to faze her, but it worried me. How could I provide for her if she was already a millionaire?

Kristen looked at the time and said, “Time for dress-up. Come on, Ken!”

The name “Ken” came from a little game of “Barbie and Ken” the two of us had started playing with each other where we would dress each other up, usually with Kristen wearing risqué lingerie. Actually, I called her “Beautiful Krissie” because of her actual name, as well as the fact that I was madly infatuated with Kristen’s luxuriously soft and wonderful hair. I remember there was a doll named something like “Beautiful Chrissie” back in the sixties or early seventies with hair that got longer… it was a perfect match for my lovable Goddess.

This evening, Krissie was wearing a shocking pink bustier and pantie set that matched an identically colored mini-dress with slits on the sides that ran nearly high enough that it almost revealed the top of the leg of her panties.

For my part, Kristen had started stocking a closet with outfits that she picked out for me, as well as some briefs that looked almost like girls’ panties. As she was pulling the briefs on me, she gave me a pleasant suck that had me shooting into her mouth after about five minutes of her oral attention.

The outfit that I was wearing that night was black pants with a dark gray—almost black—dress up shirt that had a tiny collar. Kristen surveyed the effect of me in the outfit, looking at me from many angles and admiring how it looked on me.

She added a pair of pink granny glasses, which were what she called “window panes” (clear glass; not for corrective lenses), that she said completed the outfit.

I was a bit uncomfortable wearing the glasses, but had gotten used to them by the time we hit Emilio’s. Kristen had made reservations, and the two of us had a great lasagna dinner together.

Later that evening, Kristen and I slept together in “our” bed in the playroom. We made love, which wasn’t something we did very often.

The first time I ever made love was on my sixteenth birthday. Kristen drove me into the city and she lavished me with the sexiest and busiest birthday night that I ever had. Since that time, the two of us slept together every weekend, but didn’t actually have intercourse that often. Kristen was still a bit orally fixated on my penis, and I was very happy to return the favor, usually in a sixty-nine position with her on top.

Sometimes, I would wake up in the middle of the night with my body spooned against hers. I’d carefully wiggle my erect penis between her legs, and I’d start a slow, steady rhythm. Kristen would sigh contentedly, and when we were done, she would shift her body to lick my penis clean. Usually when we did this, neither one of us would achieve orgasm, but just delight in the sensations that we would be feeling and giving to one another.

This night, we made love face to face. The two of us were intent on smothering the other’s face with kisses. This was very intimate, me being face to face with my lovely Goddess.

“Yeah, Oogie. Do it!”

“Oogie?” I said in mock horror that Kristen would use that name during an intimate moment. “I’ll show you an Oogie!”

I lifted my hips so my dick actually came out of Kristen’s warm hole, and without warning, I plunged it forcefully back into her. “Oogie!” I said.

I did this a few times, forcing the word “Oogie” as I pummeled her, and then I heard her saying it with me.

“Oogie!”

“Oogie!”

“Oogie!”

I didn’t have any more willpower, and with one final “OOGIE!” I started blasting my seed within her.

The two of us lay there, still conjoined, my dick wilting within her.

“God, Jim!” Kristen said. “That was fantastic!”

“Want another ‘Oogie?’” I asked, smiling.

“Not now. I don’t think I’d… No. Let’s save those for special occasions.”

“Sure thing. But you’ll get one every time you call me that in bed.”

“Promise?”

I grinned. “I’m serious.”

I resumed kissing Kristen’s face, and then moved off her to start lavishing my attention on her breasts.

Kristen’s breasts were different from most breasts that I had seen. For one thing, she had no tan lines whatever. For another, her aureoles were very dark—so dark, in fact, that it was sometimes difficult to discern where her nipple was except by feel.

Of course, that was my favorite way of exploring Kristen’s breasts. Using my fingers to caress and my lips and tongue to suck, I continued teasing her breasts for a while until I noticed that her breathing was regular and steady.

I looked at her face, and Kristen was asleep.

I was amused, since this was the first time that the two of us had ever fucked when Kristen didn’t suck me off afterward. I wasn’t disappointed, but the strangeness of it intrigued me at the time. My eyes watched the hypnotic rhythm of Kristen’s breasts rising and falling. It didn’t take me long to also fall fast asleep. A few hours later, I felt Kristen’s warm lips encircle the shaft of my cock. Better late than never, I thought to myself, feeling myself grow within her mouth.

Kristen noticed my erection and stopped. “Jim?” she whispered.

“Yes, Goddess?”

“You know what I would really like?”

“What?”

“I’d like you to fuck another girl, and let me eat your sperm from her cunt.”

I didn’t answer. Kristen’s remark stunned me. She usually didn’t get this graphic with me, and I knew that such a situation would probably never happen with us. After all, Kristen had shown signs of jealousy, and she had a fragile ego. Kristen would never allow me to fuck another girl, especially if she were there in the same room.

Actually, that might not be true. Patty was our friend; maybe Kristen was close to Patty, but I also knew for sure that Patty and I had no desires for intercourse with each other. Patty was looking for her own Prince Charming, and even though I was close to Patty, I doubted that the two of us would ever go all the way together.

“My kinky Goddess,” I smiled, humoring Kristen.

“I guess I am kinky,” Kristen answered, and she resumed sucking on my penis. Her action was slow and steady; she could just suckle on my cock for hours, enjoying the taste without making me reach orgasm.

I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up and noticed Kristen was spooned against me. It was our favorite sleeping position. Kristen’s rhythmic breathing told me that she was asleep.

I closed my eyes, and considered how much of a lucky stiff I was to have such a lovely and beautiful person in love with me.

I felt my erection grow, and Kristen instinctively wiggled her ass against it in her sleep.

I sighed, enjoying the feel of Kristen. I was about to move my arm over her body so my hand rested on her delicate breast, and Kristen whispered. “You awake?”

“Yes,” I answered, moving my hand to its intended spot.

Kristen murmured happily as my fingers started to tease her nipple.

“I was serious before.”

“About what?”

“I’d like you to fuck another girl, and then I’ll eat your sperm from her cunt.”

The first time Kristen said that to me, she sounded wistful. This time, however, she sounded adamant. “Whatever,” I said, humoring her some more.

“I mean it. I want it before I turn eighteen. You have three months.”

“Whatever,” I said, hoping that Kristen would forget her delusion in the morning.

“I want you to fuck somebody else while I’m watching you take her, and afterward, I want to eat her out, tasting your sperm inside her.”

Something told me that Kristen wasn’t going to forget this the next morning.

* * *

The next morning, Kristen did remember. She repeated her request to me.

“Is this your fantasy?” I asked her.

Kristen looked thoughtful. “Well… a little.”

“Do you realize how unfair that would be if I were to actually take it seriously?”

Kristen looked incredulous. “Unfair?”

I had stayed up an hour or so that night figuring out what to say. I didn’t rehearse anything, but I knew the gist of what I needed to say. “Yes, it’s unfair. You want me to have sex—no, make love—with somebody that I don’t love! You don’t seem to consider my feelings about whether or not I’d want to sleep with somebody else, whether you were there or not. You know we waited for the perfect time to make love together; I always consider it special. You are suggesting that I cheapen it by screwing somebody I don’t care about, just so you can have this kinky fantasy. You also don’t seem to be considering the feelings of the other girl, as well.”

“You could care for her! You like Patty!”

“Patty is completely out of the question, Kris. We love each other… yes. However, that’s where it ends. It’s not a physical love. Patty wants a romantic love, and we don’t share that kind of love together. It wouldn’t be fair to Patty, and it could destroy whatever it is that we already have together. I won’t do it! Friends are too important to lose.”

Kristen looked at me confused.

“Listen, Kris. Patty was raped—RAPED!—by some ignorant asshole who fucked her and laughingly called her a good piece of ass. It has traumatized her for years. Do you really want me to treat her like a piece of ass myself? Where are your fucking feelings?”

“I didn’t know…”

“No, you didn’t,” I said, a bit softer. “And I might be violating Patty’s trust by telling you. I just want you to understand that it’s not just a simple thing of liking somebody and then hopping into the sack with that person. I’m not like that! She wants romance. She fucking deserves it. She’s one of the nicest people I know, and deserves to be treated like a princess.”

“I’m sorry.”

There was no way that I could continue to be mad at Kristen. “I know, and I’m sorry for dumping Patty’s problem on you.”

I kissed Kristen, and tasted salt.

“I’m sorry if I made you get mad…”

“Ssh,” I said to Kristen, soothingly.

After a few moments, I said, “Who else? Camille? She’ll go to bed with me. You know that she made offers to me in the past. She hasn’t done so recently, I think because Patty advised her to tone it down. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t really be special to her. For that reason, it wouldn’t be special to me. That would cheapen the entire act. And I’m not sure how Camille would react to having another girl lick her down there.”

“Camille does girls,” Kristen said, softly.

“How do you know?” I asked.

Kristen didn’t answer me.

“There’s one other person that would do it. Sherry. She’d probably drop her pants in a heartbeat. She’s in love with me, and has had some sort of puppy love for me since seventh grade. If I told her to let me fuck her and have you eat her out, she’d probably do it, even if she fucking hates you something fierce. Would that be fair to her? I can’t give her what she wants if what she really wants is me. She’ll resent it, and she’ll resent you even more for making her do it.”

“I hadn’t thought about her.”

“We could go into the city and find a prostitute. But then again, it wouldn’t be special, and it would cheapen the act for me.”

“No. I don’t want that.”

I had nothing more to add.

There was a few minutes of silence before Kristen asked me, “How do you do that?”

“You are mostly right about Camille. And you’re probably right about Sherry, too, although I don’t know her that well.”

I shrugged. “Anyway, it’s my turn to cook breakfast, my dear. How would you like your eggs?”

“The usual.”

“Two Cammy eggs coming up.”

This was a private joke between us, although I told Camille about it. ‘Cammy eggs’ meant ‘over easy,’ the way that Camille usually described herself. Camille loved having a style of eggs named after her.

Kristen didn’t laugh at my joke, but looked thoughtful as I prepared breakfast. She continued looking thoughtful while the two of us ate. I could see that she was considering my response to her request. I certainly hope I explained my feelings to her properly.

Unfortunately, I saw more frowns than smiles on Kristen’s face, and the smiles seemed to me to be a bit forced.

* * *

We met my family at the flea market. Kristen’s dark mood seemed to lighted up as enjoyed the novelty of the place, finding one-of-a-kind things. Once she got the hang of the place, Kristen found that she enjoyed talking with the many vendors, some of whom would remember her from her previous visit. Conversations would continue from the last time she visited.

One thing I noticed about Kristen was the way that she interacted with people. She always treated people with the utmost respect. Despite the fact that she was very well to do, she didn’t assume such affectation of being better than other people are.

I wondered how I had misjudged this wonderful creature all these years. I had originally thought that Kristen was a spoiled brat who looked down her nose at most of the people at school. It turned out that this wasn’t what Kristen was like at all. So how could I have so grievously erred in my original evaluation of her?

Part of the answer was that I had perceived Kristen to be the person that was responsible for turning Patrice against me back when she entered junior high. I recently found out, from both Patrice and Kristen, that this was definitely not the case. If there were one person to fault for this, that person would probably be Dale Hardy. Dale was a person that I admit that I didn’t really know, but I had already formed a nasty opinion of her.

I idly wondered if I was also misjudging Dale the way that I had once misjudged Kristen. All evidence seemed to point to the contrary, but I was now very leery of making uninformed judgments about other people.

It was amazing to see Kristen work the flea market. She wouldn’t purchase much, but she always talked to the vendors. Kristen always seemed to know what topics would interest another person. She would point to some odd doll and recall how she had a similar one when she was younger, and the woman behind the table would explain how she came about it.

I never managed to learn how to talk with other people as easily as Kristen seemed to be able to do. It was obvious from watching Kristen what her secret was: she genuinely cared.

About twenty minutes after we got to the flea market, we ran into my family. Merry noticed us first. She ran and gave Kristen a hug, and she headed for me next. She proudly showed Kristen her “Belly Buster” coupon that she received the night before, and showed me that she was wearing her “Shortcake” bracelet.

My parents weren’t too far behind my step-sister, and they both approached us and thanked Kristen for the meal at Vaughn’s. Kristen shrugged off the thanks, pointing out that it was Merry’s present, after all.

Kristen dragged Merry off to a table we had visited a few minutes before that had something that Kristen thought would appeal to Merry.

My step-father took the opportunity while I was away from Kristen to tell me that I was looking good. He noticed the outfit that I was wearing, which was from Kristen’s growing wardrobe of men’s fashions for me. “Looking sharp, Jim!”

I nodded, a bit embarrassed. “Kristen likes picking out things for me to wear,” I explained.

My step-father nodded.

I started feeling a bit ill at ease; it was as if my parents were starting to think of me as a kept man. Later on in life, I would learn meaning of the term “gigolo.” The concept was foreign to me at the time, although I knew a song that had that word in the title. To this day, I wonder what my parents thought of me at that point in my life.

Changing the subject, I asked, “See anything interesting here?”

“Not today, Jim,” my step-father answered, frowning. “There was this tackle box a few weeks ago that I should have gotten. It was a good price, but…” His voice died off. Apparently, the seller wasn’t there today.

“Well, it really isn’t fishing season anymore,” I pointed out. “Unless you want to go ice fishing in a month or so.”

This earned me a chuckle. “I’m not that hard core, Jim. You know that!”

My mother added, “Did the two of you see anything you liked? Christmas is just a couple of months away.”

“You want me to do Christmas shopping in September? Are you kidding?” I asked in mock protest. For my mother, July wasn’t too early to start Christmas shopping.

“Better to be prepared than to be out at the last minute,” my mother pointed out.

“Well, if I see any tackle boxes or ice fishing gear…”

“No ice fishing gear,” my step-father protested, laughing.

I suddenly remembered why Kristen had left me alone with my parents. “Oh, by the way, Kristen’s parents have invited you over next Saturday for dinner.”

“Dinner?” my mother asked. I could see gears turning in her head.

“Nothing formal, Mom,” I said. “No evening gowns or anything.”

My mother shot me a look, but then smiled. “I’ll trust you on that.”

“I’ll let the two of you discuss it. If you accept, just let me know. If not, I can explain to the Swifts that you have other plans…”

“Oh, no need to discuss it, Jim,” my mother said, looking at her husband, who nodded. “We’d be glad to come.”

Kristen was arriving back where we were with Merry in tow.

“Wow, Mom! They have these OLD dolls over there!” Merry squealed. “Like Pebbles and Bam-Bam, like the Flintstones? They are almost life sized!”

“Not so old,” Kristen protested. “I used to play with them when I was a little girl.”

“Really?” asked Merry.

“Actually, those were my dolls. I donated mine to a charity a few years ago, and one of them at the table had a tiny ‘W’ on the bottom of the foot where my brother had written his initial!”

“Kristen, dear,” my mother said. “Jim has told me that we’re invited for supper with your parents next Saturday.”

“Yes, Mrs. Cummings. Do you need directions to my house?”

I think Kristen asked that as a matter of formality. I think everybody in town knew where the Swift residence was.

“That won’t be necessary, my dear. What time should we arrive?”

“My parents have cocktails at five. And dinner will be served at six-thirty.”

“That’s nice. Please thank your parents and assure them that we’ll be there.”

Chapter 4—Blow Up!

What have I got to do to make you love me?

What have I got to do to make you care?

What do I do when lightning strikes me?

And I wake to find that you’re not there.

Elton John

Sorry Seems To Be the Hardest Word

During the next week in school, I noticed a couple of significant changes. The first change was that Kristen seemed to withdraw into herself.

Kristen’s attitude worried me. During the weeks when I first met her, she had actually managed to be more animated. For the first time in her life, Kristen had real friends, and even invited them to her house and had a couple of pool parties there.

I had no idea why Kristen seemed so moody. The only thing I could think of was the argument we had on Sunday morning, but I had really thought that we had worked it out. Didn’t we? I tried to talk to Kristen during our car rides and at lunch period, but it was to no avail. She was moody, and if she talked, it was only to answer a direct question and with as few words as possible, just like Amy in the jazz band.

Patty also seemed to be trying to figure out what was going on with Kristen, but Kristen seemed to shrug off Patty’s attempts as well.

Kristen didn’t invite me to dinner on Tuesday, nor did she show up for dinner at my house on Wednesday. My family noticed these events, but they didn’t say much, apparently knowing that something was going on between Kristen and me.

Kristen’s mood was contagious, since I guess I spent a lot of time thinking about Kristen’s demand over the weekend and our subsequent discussion about it Sunday morning. Knowing that Kristen was upset about something and didn’t seem willing to want to talk to me was very frustrating.

The second significant change I noticed that week was that Sherry seemed more at ease with me during the classes we shared. I guess I was happy for that. Camille repeatedly sought me out during the week to remind me that cheerleader tryouts were Thursday afternoon, and to make sure that Sherry attended. Since jazz band rehearsal was also Thursday afternoons, I wouldn’t be able to attend with Sherry, but I promised her that I’d be there in spirit.

Jazz band rehearsal brought back the “old Kristen” as she chatted animatedly with Amy as if they were lifelong friends. For some reason, this bothered me. Then, during the improv number, I was surprised to hear a more intricate piano solo than I had ever heard Amy play. I looked over to the piano and was surprised to see Kristen was playing instead of Amy.

I stopped the rehearsal. “Kristen? You can play?”

“Since I was five,” Kristen answered, her face turning sullen when she looked at me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You didn’t ask.”

Kristen then turned away from me, and started talking to Amy, apparently about the improv that she had just played. She effectively dismissed me.

That attitude of Kristen’s finally ticked me off. It was one thing for her to be angry with me, if that was how she was feeling. It was still another thing to disrupt the class and destroy the kind of discipline that I tried to maintain with the band while keeping the rehearsals fun and entertaining.

I called an early end to the rehearsal, and found Kristen outside, heading for her car. Apparently, she wasn’t even going to offer me a ride home. I ran to catch up with her.

“Kristen, wait!”

Kristen turned around, a cold look on her face. “What?”

“I don’t want you to ever do something like that again during rehearsal! If you’re mad at me, fine, but I can’t have you distracting Amy and being rude to me in front of the entire band.”

“Are you saying that I’m distracting Amy?” asked Kristen incredulously.

“Yes, like when the two of you are gossiping about whatever it is you to discuss with one another. Amy is missing important lessons that she could be learning from the other band members and me. She’s in there to perform, not just to gossip with you.”

Kristen turned red. “Gossip? She’s having trouble with doing solos. You know that, and you haven’t done much to help her. She asked me for help, and I’m helping her. She doesn’t have the nerve to ask anything of the great Maestro Crittenhouse.”

“Kristen, if you continue with that attitude and determination to disrupt rehearsal, I will bar you from the music room!”

Kristen looked at me, anger flashing through her eyes. She knew that I did have the power to do just what I said, although I didn’t know if I could actually go through with my threat. I still loved Kristen very much, and didn’t really want to make her not see Amy. I still needed to enforce discipline.

After a few moments, Kristen said, “Fine. I won’t attend your goddamned rehearsals. Good luck with Amy.”

Kristen turned away and entered her car. There was absolutely no invitation from her for me to come in.

I stood there, stunned, as Kristen drove away, leaving tire tracks on the high school parking lot as she squealed away.

Well, I now needed a ride. I knew that Camille would be either on the football field or in the girls’ locker room. Glancing at the empty field, I hoped she was in the locker room and hadn’t left already.

I went as close to the door of the girls’ locker room as was proper for a male, and could hear muffled voices of the girls.

After about ten minutes of waiting, the door opened and a few older girls came out. In the second stream of girls was Sherry, who was smiling and talking to another girl. She saw me and smiled. “Jim! Thanks for telling Cammy about me!”

“No problem, Sherry. Is she in the locker room?”

“She should be right out,” Sherry giggled.

Camille did come out next. She saw me, and said, “Didn’t expect to see you here. Was rehearsal canceled?”

“No. We just had a short one today.” I was still seething inside at Kristen’s actions, but didn’t really want to discuss it.

“Where’s Kristen?” Camille asked.

I stiffened in response.

Camille must have noticed my reaction. “Um, do you need a ride home?”

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“I’m taking Sherry as well. Meet me in the parking lot in five minutes. I need to talk with the other cheerleaders for a few minutes.”

I nodded.

Camille leaned up toward me and whispered, “Sherry is a shoo-in. She’s very talented and she can flip better than most of the other girls.”

“Cool.”

“Don’t tell her, though. We’ll make the announcements on Monday.”

“Sherry is going to be very happy,” I answered. “She thanked me for helping to set this up.”

Camille smiled and walked over to where some of the other cheerleaders were waiting. I knew better than to eavesdrop, which was unnecessary anyway due to Camille’s assurances that Sherry would be on the team.

I walked out to the parking lot and found Sherry. She was sitting on a bench with a good view of Camille’s car. I approached the bench and asked, “Mind if I sit down?”

“Don’t mind at all. Cammy is giving me a ride home.”

“She told me. I’m going home with her, also.”

“Oh. I thought you’d be going with…” Sherry cut herself off.

“Kristen already left,” I said, avoiding the subject. “I’m riding with Camille today, also.”

Sherry nodded.

“So, how did it go?” I asked, knowing already what Camille had told me.

“Well,” Sherry said. “When I got there, they warned me that generally speaking, sophomores usually go into junior varsity cheerleaders, but they are a joke. They’re usually just the girlfriends of the jocks playing junior varsity football. I was the only sophomore at the auditions today.”

I nodded, but was ignorant of the specifics of the sporting program at the school.

“Anyway, during the last couple of years, the varsity cheerleaders decided to hold real auditions for the team, and they opened it up to all high school students. The routine is more difficult, apparently, and they teach it to us once, and have us do it repeatedly for about forty-five minutes. Then they requested us each to do some more advanced moves, like flips, such as the ones we do on the floor exercises in gymnastics. A lot of girls had difficulty with that.”

“So, how do you find out if you make it?”

“They tally points. You get two points if a current cheerleader sponsors you. You get up to five points for the routine, and three points for the more difficult stuff. Ten points and you’re on. They need to fill four spots, so it will really be the top four marks.”

“Only two points to be sponsored by Camille?” I asked.

“Yeah. I think it’s to prevent the team from just being popular students.”

I nodded. That mirrored what Camille had said the previous week.

“Think you’ll make it?”

“If I do, it will be a coup. The last sophomore to make it was Camille.”

I hadn’t known that. “That might explain why she took an interest in you.”

Sherry smiled. “I think it’s also because she’s your friend, Jim.”

I blushed, but didn’t answer.

* * *

Camille drove Sherry to her house, and we waved as she got in her front door.

As she pulled out, Camille did not head for my house. Instead, she pulled into Lake Shore Point. There was still sunlight, so the parking lot wasn’t very crowded.

Camille parked the car and then turned to me. “All right, out with it. What’s up between you and Kristen?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Kristen and you have both been moody all week. Patty tried talking to both of you and you have both stonewalled her. I am keeping you here until you tell me.”

Camille had a serious look in her eyes. I knew that Camille was a very strong willed person, maybe not as stubborn as Kristen was, but I knew better than to trifle with her.

I sighed. “I think the two of us had an argument on Sunday.”

“You think? You don’t know?”

“I thought we worked it out. She seemed normal afterward, and she was even cheerful at the flea market later. Suddenly, Monday morning at school she was moody and she hasn’t said more than a couple words to me until this afternoon.”

Camille noticed that. “What happened this afternoon?”

“Kristen disrupted rehearsal. I told her to either grow up or stop attending. She took off after that.”

“Jim, you need to talk. You’ll need to give me more than three short sentences. How did Kris disrupt rehearsal?”

“Do you know Amy Grant?”

“Transfer student from Wichita, Kansas, right?”

I was amazed. Camille seemed to know everybody in school. “Yeah, her.”

“Amy is as shy as a kid caught stealing candy. What about her?”

“Kristen and Amy seem to be close friends. They talk to one another a lot during rehearsals.”

“Even today?”

“Even today.”

“Let me guess. You got angry that Kris is talking to Amy and not to you. You accused her of disrupting rehearsal, even though she’s been doing that for a few weeks. Did you also threaten to not let Kris go to any more rehearsals?”

I didn’t answer, but I guess my mouth open in shock answered for me.

“I see. I would have told you to go screw yourself. You fucked up big time, Jim.”

My heart sank. “Cammy, I really love her!”

Camille nodded. “Let’s see. Last Sunday, the argument was about sex, right?”

I didn’t answer. I was in shock. Camille was a fucking mind reader.

It was silent in the car for a while. Finally, Camille said, “Yup. You screwed up royally. Let me make some predictions. Kristen won’t talk with you any more. She won’t take your phone calls, and she certainly won’t let you near her house. You’re up Shit Creek without a paddle.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” I protested.

“That’s right. You didn’t do anything. You just told me you love her. When was the last time you told her that?”

Huh? “I don’t remember.”

“Did you tell her since your argument?”

“I may have,” I said, trying to think. “I’m not sure. I definitely told her before the argument—Saturday night.” I said this automatically, figuring that Camille would have read my mind anyway.

“Jim, Jim, Jim,” Camille said, shaking her head. “Where did you learn about girls?”

“I guess it was that day when I was with you, Patty, and Wendy.”

“Kneely Park? That was your introduction to girls?”

“Well, that day, anyway.”

“Fuck, Jim!” Camille said, totally surprised. “I thought you’ve been dating girls before! You seemed quite sure of yourself that night.”

“Kristen’s my first girlfriend.”

“That is puppy love, like Sherry and you. Are you Kristen’s first as well?”

“Sort of.”

Camille looked at me, but got no more information from me about Kristen’s first. She had been around when Kristen had described her first time with a boy—her brother Will—and I think Camille realized that. She turned the key in her ignition. “Fuck, Jim. This is out of my league. Let’s think about this overnight. Either I or Patty will pick you up tomorrow morning.”

Camille didn’t say anything else until we got in front of my house. “Jim, I wish you good luck, but this has probably been fucked up for a while.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are both venturing into uncharted waters. Neither of you have any idea what direction you are going, or where you intend to go.”

“I want to marry Kristen. She wants to marry me.” It wasn’t until I blurted that out to Camille that I had realized that I had truly felt that way.

Camille stared at me. “I’ll give you this. You both definitely love one another. You just have this big mountain between you that you have to climb. If she didn’t hate you on Monday, she does now after your little tiff after practice.”

* * *

I slept fitfully that night.

Camille’s words really bothered me. Did Kristen really hate me? I hadn’t felt this low about Kristen since I found out what the tickets had done to her. I had thought that we were doing so great. I was really learning about her on Saturday. Didn’t she say she wanted me to meet her brother?

What had changed? Whatever it was, Camille seemed to think it might have been doomed from the start. So why had it felt so fucking right?

The way that Cammy had figured out everything indicated to me that I had done something classically wrong. I hadn’t told Kristen I loved her. I got jealous over her helping Amy. Kristen was moody about something, but Camille pointed out that I was moody as well. I accepted the fact that I may have been acting moody, but it was because Kristen was in a bad mood. It wasn’t just me, was it?

I had another sex dream that night. I felt Kristen nuzzling me, taking my dick in her mouth and sucking quietly. I woke up, swearing that the sensation was real, but it was apparently just my overworked imagination.

The words to an Elton John song came into my mind: “Love lies bleeding in my hands.” That was how I felt. My heart was not only broken, but it felt like I was bleeding inside. How could I have been so stupid as to let Kristen get so angry as to hate me?

I got out of bed, and turned on my desk lamp. I got out the first piece of paper that I could find, which was music manuscript paper. I turned it over and wrote on the back:

Dear Kristen,

I’m a complete asshole. I’m sorry.

I love you. Please forgive me.

J.

It was a simple statement and said exactly what I felt. This was probably all my fault, and the only way I could see my way out of it would be to beg Kristen’s forgiveness. I also said that I loved her; Camille was right in that I hadn’t said that to her in a while.

Of course, I’d never get up the nerve to hand the note to her, even if Kristen would have anything to do with me. Regardless, this was about as much as I could do at this time and place. I folded up the note and put it into my attaché case.

Camille picked me up in the morning, and she wasn’t too optimistic about my chances.

“I’ve decided to tell her that I’m sorry, that I’m an asshole, and that I love her,” I told Camille.

Camille glanced at me impressed, and then said, “She’s going to avoid you. Patty told me to remind you that she’s a little scared of you.”

That was Patty’s way of reminding me that Kristen knew about my tickets. Even though I did not intend to use them like that, Kristen might feel threatened that I might.

I sighed. “I’ll remember that, Cammy. Thanks.”

The two of us didn’t say much more on the drive into school. I noticed Kristen’s car parked in her usual spot, but my girlfriend was nowhere around.

I thanked Camille for the ride, and walked into the school.

Sherry was bubbling over during first period. She was feeling very happy with herself. “I’m in!” she said, excitedly.

“I thought they wouldn’t let you know until Monday,” I said, remembering what Camille had told me.

“There’s a game on Saturday, and they want me there. I got a perfect ten!”

“That’s wonderful, Sherry!” Despite the awful way I felt about my argument with Kristen, I knew that I should be happy for Sherry. At least life was going well for somebody in this world and Sherry was indeed a nice person.

“I just wanted to thank you again!” Sherry said.

I nodded and sighed. I forced a smile and said, “Congratulations, Sherry. It couldn’t happen to a nicer person.”

I took my seat, leaving a partially confused Sherry behind me.

After History class, I put my book into my case and moved toward my math class. For some reason, the idea of sines, cosines, and tangents just didn’t appeal to me.

Sherry caught up to me in the hallway. “What’s wrong, Jim?”

“Oh, Kris and I had a fight. She’s not talking to me.”

I saw a bunch of emotions rush through Sherry’s face. I was about to once again head to math when Sherry asked, “Anything I could do to help?”

I shrugged. This would be interesting. “Yeah. Kristen has fourth period lunch. If you see her, give her this.” I handed Sherry my note.

I had no idea if Sherry would read the note. At this point, I didn’t know what I wanted. Camille’s prognosis about our chances the previous day didn’t seem to be very good, and I guess I was feeling a bit lost.

There was a quiz in math. Surprise! I didn’t even bother answering any of the questions.

I skipped Music class, and hung out in the lunchroom, looking for Camille. She wasn’t there. If I had actually thought about it, I would have realized that she probably used her National Honor Society pass to spend the period in the library. As it was, I didn’t see her in the lunchroom, so I just wandered around.

I managed to evade most of the hall monitors. I wasn’t exactly sure why I was avoiding music class, and I felt a bit guilty wandering in after the class was half over. As it was, I ended up near the music room when the bell rang and the period was over.

I was standing near the doorway when Mr. Proilet noticed me and called me in. I was a bit sheepish, just having been caught ditching his class. He didn’t appear upset over that, however.

“I heard you let out practice a bit early yesterday,” Mr. Proilet told me.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Amy Grant told me that she wants to leave the jazz band.”

“She did?” I asked, taken by surprise. “She has been doing pretty well, actually.”

“She told me that she thought she wasn’t doing very well at all,” my teacher said.

“I’ll see if I can find her to straighten this out. She’s very talented and has been doing great.”

“Are there any problems, Jim? It’s not like you to skip out on music class. Usually the band members have nothing but nice things to say about you.”

I sighed. “I think I’m having girl problems. I’ve been acting stupidly, and it may be affecting other things, like Amy.”

My teacher nodded. “I know you’re young, Jim, but the students look up to you. If they think you’re not happy with them, it will have a bad effect on their morale.”

“I understand that now. I didn’t even think about affecting the other band members.”

This earned me a smile. “Well, you’re learning, and that’s what high school is about. We’re not just babysitters here!”

I forced a smile. “I guess not. Thanks, Mr. Proilet. I think I needed the cheering up.”

“Amy has orchestra practice during seventh period. If you can find time, you can find her there.”

“Thanks.”

I left the music room, and headed toward the lunchroom. When I got there, I didn’t see either Kristen or Sherry. Patty was sitting at our usual table.

“Camille told me about your discussion yesterday,” Patty said, simply.

“Yeah. I guess I’ve been more than a little obtuse.”

“Camille didn’t understand some things about you, and she pointed out to me that with your relationship with Kristen being a first for both of you, it’s easy to make some classic mistakes.”

“I never realized how observant Camille is. She practically read my mind yesterday.”

“Camille is much smarter than she appears. She’s probably going to be the class valedictorian this year.”

“She’s that smart?” I asked.

“Don’t let her blonde hair and good looks fool you.”

“A genius that looks like Marcia Brady,” I whistled.

This earned me a huge laugh from Patty. “Camille would probably kill you for describing her that way, but you’re right. She does look like Maureen whatever from that show!”

I laughed along with Patty. It was good feeling a bit happier, even if only for the moment.

“Where’s Kristen?”

“She was talking with some other student and left. I didn’t get a chance to talk with her today.”

I nodded. I knew that Kristen probably didn’t want to see me, and was avoiding me intentionally. She might be in the library, or she could be just about anywhere else.

After a few moments silence, I said, “Kristen pointed out to me this weekend that you may still have feelings for Toby. Is there anything I can do to help you out there?”

Patty looked at me, and then smiled. “I’m not really sure of my feelings there. Thank you for asking, though.”

Something Patty had told me earlier suddenly clicked. “The girl that Kris was talking to, who was she?”

“I didn’t see her face, Jim,” Patty answered. “I don’t know. She was a younger girl with brown hair.”

I knew that description. “Sherry? She has curly brown hair.”

“Oh, shit! Of course! What was Kristen doing talking with her, especially if she’s mad at you?”

I wasn’t completely sure. If Sherry knew that Kristen and I had a fight, she might see it as an opportunity to wedge herself between us. Just last week, she had been willing to get me into a compromising situation. She appeared happy with me this morning, but that was before I gave her the note.

Why did I give Sherry that note? I realized now that it was a stupid thing for me to do. I could just imagine what she might be telling Kristen now. Of course, Kristen might be of the mind to think the worst of me, despite the fact it was Sherry talking to her. I wondered if Sherry was in any danger, actually.

I put my head in my hands. My problems seemed to be multiplying.

* * *

I told my French teacher that I needed to see another student regarding something about the jazz band. She agreed to let me out five minutes before the end of the period.

At the appointed time, I headed for the music room with a hall pass in hand, in the event that I met up with any of the hall monitors. The “Do Not Disturb” light wasn’t on, thank goodness. I walked in quietly and saw Amy behind the piano. The teacher was working with the cello section, so I made my way to Amy and said, “Excuse me, Amy?”

Amy looked up, startled. Apparently, she had been lost in thought and didn’t expect anybody to be near her.

“Sorry for startling you like that. Mr. Proilet told me that you were considering leaving the band. I wanted to apologize for what happened yesterday. I’m not mad at you, nor am I mad at Kristen. I was being stupid, and I think you are an extremely talented piano player.”

Amy looked at me during my prepared speech, and then cast her eyes down. “I’m not going to figure out the solos.”

“Kristen seems to want to work with you, Amy. She’s probably a better teacher for you than I am. She seems to understand you.”

Amy didn’t answer.

“Please come back next Thursday. You offer the band a touch of class that nobody else seems to have, including me.”

I was aware that I was the object of attention of more than a few band members in the general area. Amy, of course, wilted underneath the spotlight.

A minute passed, and the class bell rang. I sighed, and headed out.

“I’ll be there, Jim,” Amy said quietly, but loud enough for me to hear.

That was two more words than she had ever said to me in all the weeks previously.

I turned back toward her, and smiled. “Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

I headed toward English class knowing that I’d be seeing Sherry there. I didn’t know what to expect. Would she be Sherry the vamp from the last few weeks, or Sherry the friend that I had seen just this morning?

Sherry was already in the classroom when I arrived, just a few seconds before the late bell. She flashed me a big smile.

That was no help; that smile was typical of Sherry’s behavior in both roles.

I went through class, and was glad that the end of school was drawing near. Camille would take me home, maybe park with me at Lake Shore Point and tell me what a jackass I was. I knew I deserved nothing less.

When the class bell rang, signaling the end of the period, I flew out of the room. I already had my homework ensconced in my attaché case, and was curious if I would get a glance of Kristen before she peeled rubber out of the school parking lot again.

Kristen’s Camaro was still in its usual spot, and it was empty. I looked around, and didn’t see Camille or Kristen.

I waited a bit, and felt somebody grab my shoulders from behind me.

“You are a lovable and adorable fool!”

Kristen! It was my little blonde Goddess. “Huh?” I said, not sure where Kristen was coming from.

Kristen spun me around and kissed me on the lips, using one of her unforgettable erection special kisses. Blood ran into that organ that Kristen’s kisses tended to stimulate.

My girlfriend finally broke the kiss and said, “Sherry found me during lunch. She told me you were heartbroken when you were driving home yesterday with Camille. She gave me your letter and told me how much you really love me!”

Sherry did that for me? Why?

I nodded dumbly.

Kristen saw the confusion in my eyes. “You didn’t sign it, but just used your first initial. I noticed that it was on music paper. It was your note, wasn’t it?”

“If it said that I’m a complete asshole, that I’m sorry, and I love you, then yes, I wrote that note.”

“You also asked for forgiveness, you lovable lug!”

“Oh, yeah. It was late last night when I wrote it, actually.”

“So, why are you confused?” Kristen asked. “Sherry told me you gave the note to her to give to me. Isn’t that right?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking when I gave that to Sherry,” I admitted to Kristen. “I wasn’t thinking, actually. She was so happy this morning that I forgot that she might find this a good opportunity to get between us.”

“She told me what you did to get her on the cheerleading squad,” Kristen said.

“Sherry did that herself. She got a perfect ten at the tryouts.”

“You mentioned to Camille about her gymnastics, and then Camille sponsored her.”

I just nodded, unable to correct Kristen about the order in which those things happened.

Kristen turned serious. “You know, Jim, when she showed me that note, I thought, great. It serves you right. You are an asshole. Then, as she told me what you had done, and how much she really liked you, I remembered what you said about her last weekend. I realized that she really does love you. She loves you so much, and she then goes and does something like that; trying to get us back together.”

This was easily the weirdest twisting logic from a female that I had ever heard.

Kristen continued, “It took me a while, but I realized that if I loved you half as much as she loves you, then I would accept your apology, and probably ask for one as well. I was out of line yesterday.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just kissed my lovely blonde Goddess. I tried to make it into the female equivalent of one of Kristen’s erection specials, and I hope that I succeeded. Kristen did sigh after we broke it off.

I heard a smattering of applause, and saw Camille and Patty on the other side of Kristen.

Camille saw me notice her, and came over to the two of us. “Kris, Jim… Can I give the two of you a word of advice?”

“Huh?” asked Kristen, who was surprised at Camille’s boldness.

“Take it from me. I’ve seen girlfriends and boyfriends before, and the one thing that can spoil a relationship is misunderstanding each other. If you’re angry at something, let your lover know. Don’t let it fester in your mind until you say something that the both of you will regret.”

Kristen and I looked at Camille, stunned.

Camille, having delivered her sermon, simply smiled and left. Patty smiled and left as well.

The two of us looked at one another in stunned disbelief for a couple of minutes.

Finally, I broke the ice. “I think we have the nicest friends in the world.”

“Definitely,” Kristen agreed. “The nicest friends in the world.”

* * *

The weekend was upon us. My parents and Kristen’s were going to meet for dinner at Kristen’s house. I pointed out that neither one of us had made a commitment to be there as well. “You know, if we let them have dinner together without us, it will give them a chance to talk about us a bit more freely.”

“So, what do you want to do?”

“Is there anything to do in Madison?”

“Wisconsin?”

“Yes,” I said, smiling. “Do you want to cross a state line with a minor for immoral purposes?”

“Not tonight, Jim.”

Huh? “Oh? Why not?”

“Sherry has her first game tomorrow. Don’t you think we owe it to her to give her our support in the stands?”

“Hey! That’s a great idea! Can we take her to Vaughn’s afterward?”

“Let’s do that,” Kristen said, smiling, “and then hit Madison tomorrow night. That would just be an overnighter, but there are some good restaurants there.”

I sighed. “Damn! I wish I had her phone number.”

Kristen smiled. “I have it. Let’s invite her parents in case they attend the game, too.”

“You have her number?”

“She gave it to me earlier today.”

Later on, when we were at Kristen’s, we made up properly. First, we talked. It seemed that Kristen had been feeling rejected from my reaction to her request on Sunday morning, despite what I told her. In addition, she admitted that her feelings could partly be due to PMS, her cycle having started on Tuesday. For my part, I pointed out that I was actually jealous of her being able to talk with Amy, and I explained to Kristen my conversation with the junior earlier that day.

* * *

We attended the football game. The team lost, but the cheerleaders definitely won. Sherry was in perfect form and looked like she had been on the squad for years. The cheerleaders even featured her in a routine that had her doing cartwheels and ending with a series of end over end flips that culminated in a complete flip, which drew excited applause from the stands.

Kristen and I were proud of Sherry, and we were grateful for how she had played matchmaker to us. Her parents declined our invitation to Vaughn’s, but let her go with us.

Both Kristen and Sherry declined the Belly Buster dessert, even when I offered to help them eat it. Kristen had a carrot cake instead.

Sherry said, when asked if she wanted dessert, “Now that I’m a cheerleader, I’m going to have to watch my figure.”

This elicited laughter from both Kristen and me, and even Sherry was smiling at her comment.

It was time for me to talk. “Sherry, Kristen and I thank you very much. You don’t know how much we are indebted to you for what you did for us.”

Sherry shook her head. “No, Jim. The only thing I did was help you pass a note to Kristen. If anybody should be thankful, it’s me.”

“You?” Kristen asked.

“Me. If it wasn’t for Jim mentioning my gymnastics to Camille Lombardi, I wouldn’t be on the cheerleading team.”

I smiled. “Well, it’s a draw. I still thank you.”

“I thank you, too,” added Kristen.

“I thank you both,” Sherry responded. She paused, thinking for a few moments. “Kristen, I also need to apologize to you. I didn’t like you very much.”

Kristen shrugged. “I’m not always a very likable person. For the longest time, I hung out with the wrong crowd.”

“Not that,” Sherry said. “I mean, I started disliking you this year, when I saw you were dating Jim. I didn’t know you, except for what some people told me, and I guess I was more than a little bit jealous.”

Kristen didn’t answer, but nodded.

Sherry looked from Kristen, to me, and then back to Kristen. “The two of you really like one another, don’t you?”

I nodded while Kristen answered, “We really do.”

“The two of you were so miserable when you were fighting. I hadn’t seen Jim look that way before. I’m glad the two of you got back together.”

I said, “Well, it took somebody like you to help out, and we’re really grateful.”

Sherry nodded, and I noticed the beginning of tears in her eyes.

“You know, Sherry, I said something to Kristen the other day. I said, ‘I think we have the nicest friends in the world.’ And I really mean it.”

The bill arrived, and Kristen handed her American Express card to the waiter without even looking at the bill. He left quickly to process it.

Sherry watched this without comment. I remembered her mentioning that I was only with Kristen because of her money, and I wondered if she still thought that.

When Kristen’s receipt arrived, she glanced at the total, added a tip and signed her name, removing the receipt and all the carbons.

Kristen and I took Sherry home, and then headed north to spend the night and most of Sunday in Madison.

You know, I have always hated when Kristen and I have disagreements. The two of us are both strong-willed and stubborn, and that isn’t a good combination when things start going wrong.

However, there is an up side: making up with Kristen is always lots of fun.

Case in point: on our thirty-hour trip to Madison, we did our best to violate the Mann Act as blatantly and as often as possible. You could say that we made it a point to put the “sin” back in “Wisconsin.”

Chapter 5—A Trip and the Halloween Party

So come to me darlin’ hold me tight.

Let your honey keep you warm.

It’s been so long since anyone touched me,

That I almost forgot what love is for.

Lindsey Buckingham

Trouble

On Monday, Sherry made it a point to be with me before History class.

“I had a great time at Vaughn’s. Your girlfriend is a really nice person.”

I smiled at Sherry’s noticeable change in attitude about Kristen, since it wasn’t that long ago that she had hated Kristen with a passion.

“Yeah. There’s a lot to love about her,” I agreed.

“The cheerleaders posted the winners today. I was on top, just as they told me. There was also a junior and two seniors.”

I smiled at Sherry. “I guess it’s an honor to be picked.”

“I didn’t think so a few weeks ago,” Sherry admitted, “Cammy and Lynette aren’t your typical dumb blondes, though. They’re both deadly serious about cheering, and I’ve heard people say that they are both A students.”

“I know for a fact that Camille makes herself look a lot less serious than she really is.”

Sherry agreed, “Yeah. I got that feeling, too.”

The class bell rang and we got into our seats.

At lunchtime, I was looking forward to spending the period once again with my lovely blonde Goddess. However, when I looked at our usual table, she wasn’t there. Patty was, though.

I put my tray on the table and asked Patty, “You see Kristen?”

Patty nodded, and indicated toward the back of the cafeteria. “She’s over there.”

I looked for a moment, and finally saw Kristen’s lovely blonde tresses. “Oh, yeah.”

She was talking to some other student—nobody that I knew—so I went on the lunch line to get my daily ration of swill.

When I returned from the lunch line, I was a bit surprised to see Sherry as well as Kristen sitting at our table. Sherry was talking animatedly with both of my friends.

“Hi, Sherry!” I said, as I put my tray at my place.

“Hey, Jim!” Sherry answered. “Kris just introduced me to Patty.”

“Price of fame,” I said, grinning. “You’re a cheerleader. Now all the best people want to know you!”

Most people around the table laughed at my comment.

“Better not let Camille hear you say something like that,” Patty said.

“Oh, I think Camille has a sense of humor. She looks at me as a friend, doesn’t she?”

Kristen was one person that didn’t like hearing my self-deprecating sense of humor. She responded by simply kissing me on the lips. It wasn’t a sensual kiss; she just wanted me to shut up.

I watched Sherry interact with all my friends. She was truly a nice girl and it was difficult not to like her. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed her interest in me a year or so earlier.

* * *

The week passed swiftly, and Amy showed up for jazz band rehearsal on Thursday. When Kristen entered the room that afternoon, she greeted me with “Hi, Oogie!”

I could feel the entire band heave a sigh of relief—I think they considered Kristen to be my muse, and the fact that we weren’t fighting anymore seemed to make the entire band feel better.

After rehearsal, I asked Amy and Kristen to stay a few extra minutes. Both girls looked surprised, and Amy looked at Kristen for support.

Kristen just shrugged at Amy, and looked at me. I saw her eyes grow wide as I opened up my attaché case—I think she thought I was going to pull out my roll of tickets.

Instead of my tickets, I pulled out a present for Amy. “Here, Amy. You’ll probably recognize the tune.”

Amy took the sheet music that I had taken a few days to copy by long hand and she looked at it curiously. “Linus and Lucy?” I saw her squint, and she added, “From the comic strip?”

I nodded. “Yes. Try to play it.”

The student opened the sheet music and put it on the stand on the piano. The first few bars were just bass notes, and she fumbled with the first bar until she recognized the tune. She looked up at me.

“It’s from the Peanuts Christmas special,” I said. “It’s a good number to practice for getting the feel of the genre.”

Amy was silent, and simply looked down at her hands. Finally, she asked, “By myself?”

“No,” I promised. “The original score is a trio. I believe it was a string bass, piano, and drums. Let me have Sam and Derek work with you. The song is more closely associated with Peanuts than Christmas, so it might not be a good number for the Christmas concert. We could add other instruments, though, but the song really focuses on the piano.”

There was another long pause. “Can I practice it over the weekend?”

I smiled. This was the most that Amy had said to me at one time, ever. “Take until next Thursday. You may be able to find the song at the record store if you need to hear the original. If you need help, please let me know—or Kristen.”

Amy looked from me to Kristen and then back down at her hands. After yet another pause, she said, “Thank you.”

Kristen offered Amy a ride home, but Amy lived close enough to the school that her walk was only a couple of minutes.

“That was very thoughtful of you, Jim,” Kristen said.

“Thank you, Kristen,” I said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you how you manage to get Amy to speak to you when she very rarely says anything to anybody.”

“You’ve found the secret, Jim,” Kristen answered. “You just need to talk to her.”

I nodded. It sounded so simple and obvious hearing Kristen’s explanation. Seeing Amy’s face light up in recognition of the tune reminded of the reason that I loved performing myself. I loved seeing how I was able to make people happy just by playing instruments or leading a band.

* * *

The next weekend, Kristen and I decided to spend two days in Madison. Although Madison was an hour further away from where we lived than Chicago was, it was smaller and seemed a bit more friendly to us. It was also much more scenic. I had gone there a couple of times with my parents, but after last weekend’s overnight trip, Kristen and I were starting to think of Madison as our own special spot.

Kristen and I arrived quite late Friday night, and we had McDonald’s on the road for dinner. We found a cute little lodge just outside the city where we crashed for the night.

We didn’t have much time the previous week to really check out the city, and we had never gotten around to visiting the Madison Art Center, which is where Kristen really wanted to go, so that was our destination on Saturday. I wasn’t as fascinated by the exhibits as Kristen was, but the two of us still had a great time together, and I found Kristen to be quite knowledgeable about certain of the artists currently featured at the museum. I actually managed to learn a few things about Kristen’s favorite artistic style, called impressionism.

After the Art Center, the two of us had wine, ginger ale, and cheese at a little pub that had a fire burning in its fireplace. Later on, we had some excellent schnitzel and potato pancakes at a place called Wein und Käse that, unfortunately, is no longer in business today.

Saturday night, we made love like infatuated bunnies back at that lodge outside of town. We spent Sunday morning at a park near one of the lakes, and drove home Sunday afternoon.

* * *

Our lives proceeded quite nicely into October.

Neither I nor Merry wanted to go trick or treating this year, since we figured it was for younger kids. Kristen solved our problem by deciding to have a costume party at her house and invited all of our friends, including Merry. Kristen also decided that costumes had to be of famous people throughout history, so the Incredible Hulk and Frankenstein would not be included.

On the Monday before the party, Camille approached me.

“Hey, Jim! I haven’t seen you around for weeks! What have you been doing with yourself?”

“I’ve been doing fine. You are coming to the party on Friday, right?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

“Cool!” I exclaimed. “By the way, have you heard from Wendy lately?”

Camille nodded. “Yeah. We have a couple of classes together. I guess you haven’t seen her much, have you?”

“No. Kristen takes up most of my free time.”

“Don’t I know it?” Camille pointed out. “I’m glad the two of you got over your bump in the road.”

I wasn’t going to pass over this opportunity to thank Camille once more. “Cammy, if it wasn’t for you, Kris and I would probably have been past history. I didn’t realize how I was acting, until you put an ugly mirror to my face.”

Camille smiled, and said, “I’m glad you guys were smart enough to be able to deal with it. You two are so much in love, and I know that you’re a good person, Jim. You may not be perfect, but then I don’t think anybody would be able to stand somebody who was.”

I nodded. “So, what’s up?”

“The football team has a bye the day after Halloween. We’re going to initiate the rookie cheerleaders that afternoon.”

I had no idea what happened during those initiations. My mind started thinking about the reports of fraternity hazing that happens at colleges. “Sherry won’t get hurt, will she?”

Camille laughed. “No pain involved, Jim. I promise! The juniors and sophs will have a separate initiation from the seniors, which is a bit more rowdy.”

My mind reeled with thoughts of a rowdy initiation for the seniors.

“It’s easy to read your mind, Jim,” Camille laughed. “It’s not that bad!”

I laughed. “So, isn’t the initiation supposed to be secret?”

“It usually is, but I think I can trust you.”

Those words touched me for some reason. “Thank you. Would you mind if I told Kristen? We don’t have too many secrets from each other.”

“Sure,” Camille smiled. “I trust her as well. Besides, Sherry will probably tell her all about it on Monday.”

I sighed. “I’m glad you’ll be at the party. Kristen and I both owe you big time.”

Camille moved over and kissed me. It wasn’t an innocent kiss, nor was it quite a romantic kiss. I found myself enjoying every second of it. In my mind, I flashed back to an image of Camille completely nude at my birthday party. I found myself getting excited, but managed to hide my reaction.

After Camille pulled away, she smiled and said, “I’ll see you on Friday night.”

I watched Camille walk away afterward, and thought about Wendy. I realized that I might want to start paying more attention to my friends, rather than spending all my free time exclusively with Kristen.

* * *

A few days later, a dark haired and dark complexioned girl approached me.

“Jim Crittenhouse?”

“Yes?” I answered. The girl looked a bit familiar, but I couldn’t place her name at all. I only knew that she was a junior.

“I’m Jackie Lombardi,” the girl said.

Lombardi. Isn’t that Camille’s last name? It was! “Are you Camille’s cousin?”

“That’s me!” Jackie answered, flashing me a radiant smile that made me stare at her face a few seconds.

“So, what’s up, Jackie?” I finally asked.

“I just wanted to thank you and Kristen for inviting us to the party on Friday.”

I was confused. “Us? Do you mean you and Camille?”

“Yeah. As well as the rest of the cheerleaders. It sounds like a killer party.”

Were all the cheerleaders going to be attending the party? This was news to me.

“Um, you’re welcome. I think you want to thank Kristen. I didn’t know that you were a cheerleader.”

“I just got in during the last tryouts.”

“Oh. Sherry told me that a junior made it.”

Jackie shook her head. “Yeah. I got a nine. Did you know that Sherry got a perfect score?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Sherry was so proud she was bursting when she found out.”

Jackie giggled. “She is, like, fantastic. She does those running aerials perfectly. She’s a gymnast.”

“I know,” I said, smiling, not knowing exactly what an “aerial” was, but thinking it must be something great. “Camille figured that she’d be perfect for the team.”

There was a bit of an awkward silence. “Jim, the reason I’m here is that I wanted you to thank Kristen for me.”

“Kristen? She’ll be around any minute. I’m getting a ride home with her.”

“I figured that. However, she may not want to talk with me. She hasn’t since the beginning of the school year.”

I suddenly remembered that Jackie was a former member of Kristen’s old circle of friends. I shrugged my shoulders and said, “You should try to talk to her at the party on Friday. She has changed, but she’s a wonderful person.”

Jackie cast her eyes downward. “Yeah. We all were a bit stuck up.”

“You know that Patrice is coming, right?”

Jackie looked surprised. “She is? I didn’t know she was invited.”

“Well, Patrice is a friend of mine from way back, and she’s still friends with Kristen. Her brother Jack is also going to be there. I don’t think Kristen is avoiding her old friends, Jackie; she’s just avoiding her old attitudes. Try talking to her at the party.”

Jackie thought this over and said, “Maybe. I guess it can’t hurt.”

I watched the cheerleader walk away. She was a cute girl, a bit smaller in stature than Camille was. Jackie’s face looked a lot like Camille’s; I imagine she’s what Camille would look like with darker hair.

* * *

On Friday, the day of the party, I noticed that Sherry seemed a bit nervous about something.

“Hi, Sherry,” I said, smiling at her. “What’s up?”

“Um… can we talk in private during lunch?”

“Sure,” I said. “What’s up?”

“I’ll tell you then.”

The class bell rang and History class started. I found my seat and forgot about Sherry as I concentrated on the Holy Roman Empire.

At lunch, I saw Kristen and after we kissed, she said, “Sherry wants to talk to you, alone. I know what it’s about, and I have no problem with it.”

“You have no problem with what?” I asked.

“I’ll let Sherry tell you. But just remember what I said.”

I was confused. Kristen hadn’t said much of anything. I spied Sherry as she entered the lunchroom, and Kristen told me to go over to her.

“Hi, Sherry. What’s up?”

“Can we go, like, to the music room?” Sherry asked, nervously.

“I guess so,” I said. I was a little apprehensive, since I usually associated lunchtime music sessions with other people to have a more romantic theme, but since Kristen told me she had no problem with whatever Sherry wanted, I decided it would probably be safe. If not, I had a good explanation if I had guessed wrong.

Neither one of us said anything as we walked to the music room. A hall monitor spotted us, and I pulled out my Music Room pass, and told the monitor that Sherry and I were going to the room to practice. I figured that the monitor wouldn’t know whether or not Sherry was in the band.

The monitor gave a quick glance at my pass and let us continue.

After we got out of earshot of the monitor, I giggled to Sherry. “Probably anything typewritten on something that looks like a pass would be accepted, but I never had the nerve to try that.”

Sherry gave a nervous giggle in response.

I wondered why Sherry was so nervous. Was there something happening with Dale?

We got to the music room, and I let Sherry in.

I was somewhat anxious to find out why she was so nervous. “So, what’s up? You’ve been acting very jittery today.”

“I found Kristen yesterday before your band practice, and talked with her while my bus left. She then offered to drive me home, and we finished talking.”

I nodded, getting a bit impatient. “What were the two of you talking about?”

Sherry hemmed and hawed, and then finally said, “I need to invite a boyfriend to a thing with the cheerleaders tomorrow.”

It suddenly dawned on me that tomorrow was Saturday; the day that Camille had told me was the cheerleaders’ initiation. “Um, I’m not really your boyfriend, Sherry.”

“I know. Camille suggested that you were pretty trustworthy.”

So, both Camille and Kristen knew about this. “What do you need a boyfriend for?”

“They won’t tell us, not even Camille. She said it’s a tradition. Jim, can you keep a secret?”

“I try to.”

Sherry sighed and said, “It’s an initiation for the rookie cheerleaders. The juniors and the sophomores have theirs in the morning here at the school. I’m not supposed to tell you any more than that, but I couldn’t even if I wanted since I haven’t been told anything more, either.”

This sort of fit in with what Camille told me, and pretty much explained why Camille had told me about the initiation. She was preparing me for Sherry asking me to be there with her. I wondered what Camille and the other cheerleaders were planning.

I also now understood why Kristen had said that she had no problem with it. If she hadn’t told me that, I would have declined Sherry’s invitation, since I knew that Kristen had a terrible jealous streak.

I mulled these things in my mind for a few moments, and came to a decision. “I’ll go with you.”

Sherry looked relieved. “Camille is giving me a ride, tomorrow. She said she could pick you up as well.”

This confirmed to me that Camille definitely had something in mind. I figured that I’d have a talk with her at the party tonight.

I nodded to Sherry, and she looked at me uncertainly. I moved over to her and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Thanks for thinking of me,” I quietly said.

Sherry reddened just a bit and nodded.

I said, “Let’s go back to the lunchroom. I’ll let Kristen know about it later.”

“Before we leave, could you do me a favor?” Sherry asked.

“What, Sherry?”

“I love hearing you play. The practice rooms are empty. Could you play me a song?”

“Which one?” I asked.

“Can you play Harmony from Goodbye Yellow Brick Road?”

I actually knew that song. Thinking about it, I realized it was a wonderful song for a single piano. “Sure.”

I sat down at the piano and played the first C-major seventh chord.

Hello, baby hello.

Haven’t seen your face for a while.

Have you quit doing time for me?

Or are you still the same spoiled child?

Sherry watched me play the song, and I saw an expression of amazement on her face.

The only place where the song seemed lacking to me was near the end, where I couldn’t duplicate the vocal harmonies from the record.

“I’ve always loved that song,” Sherry said. “I’ve never heard you play that song before. I had hoped you knew the song.”

“Actually, I know the song, but I never played it before,” I admitted.

“That was your first time playing it?” Sherry asked me, now shocked. “It sounded like you’ve been playing it for years!”

I shrugged. “I picked out the first chord, and it sounded right. The other chords just followed. There are only two verses to the song and the chorus, and I have sung along with the record a few times.”

I got up from the piano and started to walk back to the lunchroom.

“Wow,” was all Sherry could manage. She followed me to the lunchroom. About halfway there, Sherry remarked, “I’m glad the song was in your range.”

I laughed. “As I said, I sometimes sing along with the album. The words to that entire album are on the cover of the record, so it’s easy to sing along. Two years ago, Roy Fennel, the guy from the chorus, taught me how to add falsetto to my range without making it sound like I’m trying to sound like a cartoon. I notice that a lot of British singers like Paul McCartney and Elton John use that technique all the time.”

“How did you know the first chord?” Sherry asked.

I shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me,” I finally admitted. “The start of that song was just a chord. I just knew instinctively that it was a C-major seventh. I know that sort of the same way you can tell that the color of your shirt is pink.”

Sherry corrected me. “It’s mauve.”

I stopped in the hallway and stared at Sherry. She looked at me confused, and then she suddenly understood what I was talking about. We both laughed for about a minute. Luckily, we were just outside the lunchroom.

There wasn’t anybody in the food service line, so we managed to get our food. I just got a juice and a small bag of chips. Sherry got a slice of pizza.

Kristen looked at the two of us and smiled. “I take it everything went all right.”

Sherry blushed and said, “Yes.”

“So, what gossip did I miss?” I asked, changing the subject.

* * *

Kristen picked Merry and me up for the party at five. We were going to be part of Kristen’s party set-up crew.

Merry had a curfew of ten o’clock, but I told my mother that Patty had to be home by eleven and, since I had to stay at Kristen’s until the party officially ended at midnight, Patty had offered to drop Merry off.

“There won’t be any alcohol, will there?” Mom asked.

“I told you before. No. Just cider and soda,” I assured my mother yet again.

“You didn’t mention cider before!”

“Kristen got a few gallons at a farm stand. I don’t think it’s going to be anything harder than you get at the grocery.”

My mother considered this and finally relented. “All right. Just make sure that you watch out for your little sister.”

“All the boys there will have dates. Merry will be fine.”

“All right.”

The doorbell rang, and the conversation ended. It was Kristen. She had a lovely “Horn o’ Plenty” filled with fruits and nuts, which was wrapped in yellow cellophane.

“Hello, Mrs. Cummings,” Kristen said. “This is for you. Happy Halloween!”

“Oh, Kristen! That looks huge!” my mother gushed.

I took the present from Kristen and moved it onto our dining room table. It matched my mother’s fall pattern tablecloth, which was apparently Kristen’s intention.

My mother looked at it, and complained, “We didn’t get you anything!”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I just wanted to thank you for allowing Jim and Merry to come to my party!”

“It’s lovely!”

Merry had come downstairs when she heard the doorbell, and she gushed over Kristen’s present. “Wow!”

Neither Merry nor I had our costumes. Kristen has promised us that she’d have costumes ready for us when we got there—they were going to be a surprise. Kristen kept on kidding me for weeks about what my costume would be. At one point, she said I’d be going as Adam and wearing only a fig leaf.

One time when she had said that, I answered, “If I’m Adam, will you be Eve? If so, what size fig leaves do they have in those naughty catalogs that you have?” That remark earned me a playful smack from Kristen.

Kristen drove us to her house, and at the gate, I noticed a large pail hanging nearby underneath a miniature street lamp. Kristen looked in it and smiled. She noticed Merry and I looking at it as well and she explained, “We fill this with Hershey bars and Snickers candy. There are instructions on the bottom of the pail explaining how to contact the house when it’s empty. We did this last year. A couple of kids got greedy, but not as many as you’d think.”

“Neat,” said Merry, who ran out of the car and snagged a Snickers for herself.

We drove past the gate and Kristen parked her car in the garage.

When Merry and I got to the playroom, we both whistled at the transformation.

The entire apartment now sported a Halloween theme with cobwebs along the ceiling. The overstuffed chairs were gone, replaced by some beanbag chairs. A stereo and some large speakers were on the side of the room, and there was a stack of LP records on a record changer. In the center of the living room was an open area where people could stand or dance.

The redesign of the apartment extended into the bedroom as well; the bed was completely gone, as was the door that led to it. Where the bed had been were some beanbags, a stereo, and a twenty-one inch television that would be set to the local station that had promised twelve hours of scary movies through the night.

We had told our friends that there would be dancing and scary movies, and I was quite happy with the alterations, although I privately wondered where Kristen and I would sleep that night, after the party. I didn’t worry too much about it; Kristen seemed to have everything planned perfectly.

One of the things I realized was that Kristen’s redesign gave people few places to spend alone in private (actually, only the bathroom). Kristen had told me that she had hired some off-duty police officers to work as security guards and to ensure when people left the apartment, they went home and didn’t wander around the property.

Kristen’s parents had their own party to attend, and were already gone. However, they seemed to approve of the arrangements that Kristen made.

The three of us had a meal of turkey sandwiches that were conveniently stored in the refrigerator among cases of soft drinks like Coke, Pepsi, Tab, Seven-Up, and Dr Pepper.

In the kitchen was a fountain that had the dark brown cider bubbling inside it. There were paper cups around the fountain, and garbage bins conveniently placed all throughout the apartment.

There wasn’t much for Merry and I to do; Kristen seemed to have done a great job in the two days since I had last been at the apartment.

Our guests would start arriving between six and seven o’clock. Kristen went into the bedroom, fetched out a box, and handed it to me. “Merry and I will change in the bedroom. You can change in the living room. Your outfit is in the box.”

When I opened the box, I smiled. I knew from my History class that this was a Roman tunic. It was brown with sequins and rhinestones. There was also a cape that matched the tunic, and instructions that identified the rest of costume as being arm guards and leg guards. There was also a surprisingly heavy sword (it was very dull—I tested it!), and a very fancy helmet with a red plume on top. Inside the box was also a pair of sandals and a paper bag.

I put on the outfit and then looked in the paper bag. There was something hairy that I finally figured out was a beard and something called “spirit gum” and “spirit gum remover.” There were enough instructions on the spirit gum to indicate that I used this to fasten the beard to my face. Since I didn’t have a mirror, I didn’t put on the beard.

I look at myself. The toga fit nicely; it was apparent that Kristen had the outfit tailored for me, since she knew all my sizes.

I put my street clothes into the costume box, closed it, and then waited for the other two girls to arrive from the bedroom.

After a few minutes, I got restless. It took a lot of willpower for me to avoid going toward the bedroom, mostly out of respect for Merry’s privacy. I instead turned to the stereo and put it on. I didn’t know which record was on the bottom of the stack, so I switched it to the receiver and quickly found a station playing ”Monster Mash.”

I found the beanbag chair relaxing, and was startled when I heard Kristen’s voice.

“I see Antony has made it.”

I turned and found my beautiful Goddess dressed as Cleopatra. Her hair was black (a wig, I later found out), and she was wearing an opulent headdress made of gold mesh.

“Is that who I am?” I asked. “I thought it might be Julius Caesar.”

“Caesar was Cleopatra’s first lover. Mark Antony was her favorite.”

“I’ll take your word for that. You look divine!”

Kristen smiled. “Thank you! Didn’t you find the beard?”

I nodded, and pointed to the bag. “I didn’t have a mirror.”

“Oh, poor baby!” Kristen cooed. She found the spirit gum and soon had the beard on my face. The mustache caused my nose to itch a bit.

Kristen admired her work. “It matches your hair perfectly!”

“Great,” I said. I was dying to see myself in the mirror. I was very curious about what I would look like in a beard.

“I’ve been dying to try that out,” Kristen declared.

“Try what out?” I asked.

Without answering, Kristen pulled me into a kiss. It was one of her patented erection specials. We must have kissed for a couple of minutes before we broke it off.

Kristen giggled. “It tickles!”

I swooned a bit; Kristen always has that effect on me. “Me, too,” I agreed. “Where is Merry?”

“She’s still getting ready. The shoes were a bit loose, but everything else was perfect.”

I smiled. “I figured that we would have gone as Romeo and Juliet.”

Kristen shook her head. “I told people that Romeo and Juliet were allowed, although they were fictional characters. I allowed the Greek and Roman gods and goddesses as well, since they were very real to the people that believed in them. I didn’t want us to be Romeo and Juliet because their love is doomed; I don’t want to tempt fortune.”

“Oh. I didn’t think of that.”

“You’ll probably see a couple of Juliets coming tonight. A lot of the girls asked.”

“I’ll only have eyes for Cleopatra,” I promised.

This earned me another kiss, albeit a brief one as Merry made her entrance.

“Ta-da!” Merry announced, doing a little curtsy. “You look funny in that beard!”

Merry was wearing a wig and a blue and white gingham dress. She looked like the spitting image of Judy Garland in the Wizard of Oz. The costume fit Merry very well.

“I guess we’re ready for our guests,” I noted.

“Yup,” Kristen agreed. “Wally?”

A voice came over the intercom. “Yes, Miss Swift.”

“Let me know when our guests start to arrive.”

“Will do, Miss.”

“Wally?” I asked. “What happened to Billy?”

“We give him a day off every once in a while,” Kristen laughed.

“Oh.” I had been so used to Billy that I had just thought he was wherever he was twenty-four hours a day. Of course, that was absurd.

All of a sudden, a chant came over the stereo. “Ouga Chaka!” Oh, no! Not that!

“Ooh,” Kristen said. “They’re playing our song!”

I rolled my eyes. Most of the band members already were calling me “Oogie,” thanks to Kristen. The name was starting to stick, much to my dismay. I forced a smile and listened to the song.

Merry giggled at my discomfort. Apparently, Kristen had told Merry about my new nickname and she had used it a couple of times, always when my parents weren’t around.

The intercom clicked on. “Miss Swift. The first of your guests are starting to arrive.”

Kristen answered, “Thank you, Wally. Have the security guys help our guests find places to park.”

“Will do, Miss Swift.” The intercom clicked off.

A minute or so later, Patty arrived, dressed as a cowgirl with a brown hat and a yellow bandanna. “Say howdy to Calamity Jane!”

I laughed. “You look more like Wrangler Jane!”

Patty nodded. “You’re half-right, but F-Troop is fictional. Therefore, I’m Calamity Jane. I knew that Kris was going to be Cleopatra, and I must say you make a handsome and hirsute Antony.”

“Hirsute?” I asked, not understanding the word.

“Hairy,” Kristen said, laughing.

I laughed along with them. “I think ‘hirsute’ sounds a bit nicer. Thanks, Patty!”

“And Dorothy looks divine!” Patty added.

“Thank you, Miss Jane,” Merry answered, doing another curtsy. “I need a Toto!”

Camille arrived with a boyfriend, who she introduced as Joe. She was dressed as Charlie Chaplin, and Joe was in a dark outfit. Camille had to tell us that he was Jack the Ripper, which I thought was a great idea for a non-fictional character.

Camille also brought Sherry with her, who was dressed as a vampire. “I’m Vampira, the actress from the movies,” Sherry explained. “My mom already bought this outfit for me and Kristen said that Vampira would be allowed, since she’s a real person.”

I sized up Joe. He was a tall person and didn’t look like a football player or any other kind of jock for that matter. “Hi, Joe. I’m Jim.”

“I was told to call you Oogie,” said Joe, smiling.

I must have looked very distressed because Camille said, “Oh, come on, Oogie! I told Joe the story of your present for Kristen and he thought it was cute.”

Joe nodded. “I really wish I had the talent you have with music. I just strum a guitar myself.”

“The guitar and the violin family are instruments I never got the hang of, myself,” I explained.

I told our guests where the soda and cider were located, and Kristen added that we had chips, candy, and other things in the kitchen as well.

More of our guests started arriving. Wendy arrived wearing a blonde wig. I didn’t need any guesses to know her character: Marilyn Monroe!

Kristen had started the record player, and people were helping themselves to sodas. Merry had the television in the bedroom turned to the scary movie marathon, and a few of our guests were watching with her.

I found myself absorbed by the synthesizers on Elton John’s ”Funeral for a Friend,” which I knew to be the first track on the “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” LP.

Jackie Lombardi knocked me from my reverie.

“Hello, Oogie!” Jackie said.

Damn! Now the cheerleaders were calling me that!

“Hi, Jackie,” I said, suppressing a groan.

Jackie and her date were dressed as Romeo and Juliet.

A few more cheerleaders arrived as well, some with dates. Kristen had been correct: Romeo and Juliet proved to be a popular theme.

Patrice and Jack arrived, and I greeted them both. Patrice was dressed as Pocahontas, and Jack was dressed as Charlie Chaplin. I recognized the girl that he was with as Doreen, the friend of Marla’s that the two of us had met at the park. I was amazed and happy that Doreen and Jack were still together. Doreen was dressed as a flapper from the 1920s, and told me that she was Paulette Goddard, Chaplin’s co-star from Modern Times. She looked very nice, actually.

A few minutes later, I was listening to ”Benny and the Jets,” one of my favorites from that Elton John album when Sherry accosted me.

“I knew Elton John was your favorite. Can you play this song?”

“I never really tried,” I admitted. “I don’t have the vocal range that he has. ’Goodbye Yellow Brick Road’ is quite easy, though. And you know that I can play ’Harmony.’”

The two of us listened to the song as I sipped a Coke that Kristen had thoughtfully provided from the kitchen.

“I can imagine a guy on stage dressed in a mohair suit,” Sherry giggled.

“Don’t forget the electric boots!” I laughed. “It would have been a great costume… me going as Elton John!”

Camille overheard me and laughed as well.

“I see there’s another Chaplin at the party,” I informed Camille.

Camille shrugged. “I’m the only girl doing him, though.”

Later on in the party, I met Camille alone in the kitchen. There were many other cheerleaders milling about, and there wasn’t any place for the two of us to be alone; Kristen had seen to it that the party at her house wasn’t going to become an excuse for a high school orgy. Unfortunately, that meant that I wouldn’t be able to find out what Camille and the cheerleaders had in mind for Sherry and Jackie the next day.

Despite this, Camille looked at me and said, quietly, “Don’t be worried, Jim. Tomorrow’s initiation may not be as tame as this party, but we won’t get out of hand.”

I smiled at Camille. “Thank you,” I said, still wishing I could know more about that initiation.

I managed to find Jack and Doreen, and got to spend some time with them. The two of them had gone on a single date, and mostly just met at the park, which was getting chillier as winter was approaching.

Doreen left for the bathroom, and Jack finally said, “What did you do to my sister?”

“What do you mean?”

Jack wasn’t buying it. “She used to call me a dork—you, too! Now she’s changed, and you had something to do with it.”

“I just spoke to her,” I said, trying to avoid a conflict.

“Listen,” Jack said. “I’m not pissed off or anything, but she’s really changed. Even my mother noticed it. Kristen’s changed, too. I saw her a couple of times at my house, and she’d have nothing to do with me. Now she’s dating you.”

“Kristen fell in love with me before I fell in love with her,” I pointed out to Jack.

Jack shrugged. “And they call you Oogie?”

I cringed. That name was really starting to get around. “From something I did for Kristen the first day of school.”

Jack nodded. “I heard about the band and the chorus. I thought you were nuts when I heard about it. But since I’ve been with Doreen…”

I smiled at Jack knowingly. “See, people change. I did, your sister did, and Kristen did. Even you changed.”

“I guess,” Jack said, not entirely convinced. “This place is really neat. Does Kristen live here?”

“She lives in the main house,” I answered. “This is just like an apartment that she calls her playroom.”

“Wow. I’d love to see it, sometime.”

“Just let me know,” Kristen answered, having arrived and overhearing Jack. “Any friend of Jim’s is welcome here.”

“Cool.”

“But it’s not always set up for parties,” I pointed out to Jack. “This is usually just a real apartment. This room, for example, usually has a bed in it.”

“Wow! A playroom with a bedroom?” Jack said.

“You’ve got to see it,” Kristen said. “This will be back to normal on Sunday. Do you think you and your sister can make it over?”

“Shit, yes!” Jack said. He then realized his mistake and said, “Sorry, I mean, of course.”

Kristen laughed. “No offense was taken, Jack.”

Doreen came back and I introduced her to Kristen.

“Jim tells me you have a cousin named Marla,” Kristen said.

“Yes,” Doreen said. “She visited from California a couple of months ago. We met Jim and Jack back then.”

Kristen nodded. “Jim told me about her.”

Doreen looked at me. “Marla thought that she had a thing for Jim. I mean—no offense—she thought he was cute.”

“I think he’s cute, too,” Kristen said, no trace of jealousy in her voice.

There was a bit of an awkward moment, which I relieved by saying, “We’ve invited Jack and his sister over on Sunday. Do you think your mother would allow you to come as well?”

Doreen looked at Jack, and then at Kristen. “I’d have to ask her. I’ll let Jack know tomorrow. He can call you.”

“No need for an appointment, Doreen,” Kristen said. “If you can make it, just have Patrice pick you up on her way.”

Patrice wandered over. “Me pick who up?”

I said, “Kristen invited you and Jack over on Sunday. She also invited Doreen, if her mother lets her come.”

“Oh, I can pick her up,” Patrice said with a grin. “I know where she lives and it’s not out of the way.”

Doreen looked at Patrice. “If it’s no trouble…”

“No trouble whatever,” Patrice said.

Jack gave me a “this is what I meant” look, referring to Patrice’s newly found hospitality. I just smiled in return.

Patty, Sherry, and Merry left just before eleven o’clock, followed soon afterward by Patrice, Jack, and Doreen. The party started to wind down a half hour later. Most of the people had already left, leaving Camille, her boyfriend Joe, Kristen and myself.

“Do you need help cleaning up?” asked Camille.

“No. I’ll do it in the morning.”

Joe excused himself to use the bathroom.

“I guess you want more information on the initiation,” Camille said.

“Not really,” Kristen said. “I trust you.”

“I was talking to Jim. I assured him that we don’t do any kind of hazing or torturing. Mostly, we embarrass the girls; their boyfriends, too.”

“Embarrass?” I asked.

“There’s nudity, but no sex. It’ll be good clean fun, like Kristen’s pool parties.”

“I just don’t want Sherry to get hurt,” I said.

“Neither do I,” said Camille. “My cousin will be there, also.”

I nodded, and then I thought of something. “If you consider nudity to be tame, what are you doing to the senior rookies?”

Camille grinned. “I can’t tell you that. However, I can tell you that it’s a bit more risqué!”

I turned to Kristen. “You have no problem with me doing this?”

“None whatsoever,” Kristen said, turning to our friend. “I think we owe Camille big time, and if she assures me that it’s just harmless fun, then I’m willing to trust her.”

I couldn’t argue with Kristen’s words.

Joe came out of the bathroom.

“Well, it looks like it’s time for me to leave,” Camille said. “Thanks for having us.”

“Yeah,” added Joe. “You have one sharp place here.”

Camille grinned. “I heard that Donny had a keg of Budweiser in the trunk of his car. Alice told me that he turned white as a ghost when he saw policemen showing him where to park.”

“Donny? Alice?” I asked, not being good with names.

Camille frowned. “Alice is the ditsy blonde—she gives cheerleaders a bad name. I’m still not sure how she got through the tryouts. Donny is the linebacker she was with.”

I nodded, remembering the burly guy and the girl that was with him. I saw him whispering around to others around eleven o’clock.

Joe added, “Yeah, Donny was inviting everybody for a kegger at Lake Shore Point after they left here.”

Camille shrugged. “Good. At least we kept this party legal.”

Kristen said, “That was the one thing my parents insisted on. I suggested hiring the off-duty policemen and they thought it was a wonderful idea.”

Camille smiled. “Well, we have to go. I guess Lake Shore Point is not the place for us, Joe.”

Kristen smiled. “How about Kneely Park?”

Camille brightened considerably. “Yeah. That’s an idea. Thanks, Kris!”

The two of them started to leave. I could hear Joe ask, “Kneely Park? Isn’t that closed this time of year?”

We shut off the television in the bedroom and the stereo in the living room. There were a few cans of sodas and some paper plates with chips and candy on them around as well, which we pitched into the garbage bins.

Kristen got a tiny purse from the closet in the bedroom and the two of us left the playroom.

At the driveway, there was an off-duty police officer. He whistled as he saw Kristen. “Cleopatra. I know I didn’t see you before.” He whistled appreciatively.

“I’m Kristen Swift,” Kristen said. “I live here.”

“Oh, my! I didn’t recognize you in your outfit! I’m sorry!”

“No need to apologize,” Kristen smiled. “Where’s your partner?”

“He left a minute ago to the main house. Call of nature.”

Kristen pulled out an envelope and handed it to the officer. “I’ve added a hundred dollar bonus.”

The man took the envelope and didn’t look inside. “Thank you very much, Miss Swift.”

“Kristen,” my girlfriend corrected.

“Thank you, Kristen.”

The police officer’s partner joined us a moment later. Kristen introduced herself and handed him another envelope. They waved good-bye as they left to go home.

Chapter 6—Initiation

Sweet love showin’ us a heavenly light.

I’ve never seen such a beautiful sight!

Sweet love flowin’ almost every night.

I know forever we’ll be doin’ it!

Kenny Loggins

Whenever I Call You “Friend”

Camille picked me up at ten the next morning.

When I got into the car, I saw that Sherry was already there. She was blushing furiously, mostly in anticipation of the initiation that would happen in just a little while. Unlike Camille, who was dressed in her uniform, Sherry was in her street clothes; her uniform was folded next to her in the car.

At the school, the entire cheerleading squad was present, all of them in uniform except Jackie, Camille’s cousin. Jackie was standing next to the same boy she brought to the costume party the previous night. She gave me a nervous smile as she saw me.

Lynette Robbins, who was the head cheerleader, decided to get things rolling. “All right, we have two initiates for today’s ceremony. Since Camille Lombardi and I sponsored them both, we need somebody to share some of the work with Camille. Camille? Who would you like to pick?”

Camille nodded and said, “I’d normally choose you, Lynette, but as head cheerleader, I know that you have other duties. Both June Rodgers and Maria Wilson know Jackie, so I will allow my cousin to decide between them.”

June Rodgers was one of the smaller cheerleaders. I remembered that she was a junior, and she was also one of two black cheerleaders on the squad. Maria Wilson was a senior with blonde hair.

Jackie looked at her cousin. “Maria,” she said, quietly.

When she heard her name, Maria stepped out from the group of cheerleaders.

Lynette watched this, and then said, “Maria, do you wish to sponsor Jackie for our initiation?”

Maria nodded. “Jackie was very good at the tryouts this time. I’d be proud to sponsor her for Camille.”

Lynette nodded. “Do you sponsor Sherry, Camille?”

Camille smiled. “I’m quite proud to sponsor Sherry.”

Lynette announced, “All right, ladies, we have our two initiates, who have kindly brought their boyfriends. We also now have two sponsors. The sponsors will now make their presentations. Camille?”

Camille said, “I sponsor Sherry Jordon, who has brought her friend, Jim Crittenhouse, to help out today. Sherry is a sophomore, but her gymnastics abilities have allowed her to achieve a perfect score during the qualifications.”

There was a round of applause as Sherry blushed. I applauded as well.

Camille continued. “I am pleased to offer my sponsorship to Sherry.”

Lynette said, “Thank you, Camille. Do I hear any objections to having Sherry join our squad and undergo the initiation?”

Silence answered Lynette’s question.

“Very well, Camille. Take the two of them and have them stand over there.” Lynette pointed to the curb of a sidewalk leading to one of the side doors to the school. “Maria, you’re next.”

Maria was a bit nervous as she said, “I sponsor Jackie Lombardi, cousin to our own Camille, who has brought her friend Danny…” Maria paused. “Shit! I forgot your last name, Danny.”

“It’s Strong,” the boy answered.

“Sorry,” Maria said, turning red. “Jackie has brought Danny Strong. Jackie is a junior, and scored a nine out of ten in the tryouts. She’s Camille’s cousin, but I can assure everybody that she truly earned her way onto the squad. I happily sponsor Jackie for the squad.”

Lynette smiled. “Thank you, Maria. Do I hear any objections to having Jackie join our squad and go though the initiation?”

Once again, there was silence.

“Very well,” Lynette said. “Maria, you may take those two over to the curb with Camille and the others.”

Maria took her two charges to meet us at the curb.

Lynette called out, “Camille, Maria. You know what you need to do. We’ll be along in about five minutes.”

Camille nodded and ushered Sherry and me into the door of the school. She led us toward the gymnasium, and stopped at the boys’ locker room.

Without hesitation, Camille opened the boys’ locker room and Maria urged us from behind to enter. The two younger girls seemed hesitant, but Maria was insistent.

Once inside, Camille led Sherry and me to a row of lockers and made us sit down on a bench. She whispered, “All right, you can ask questions now, but keep your voices down.”

“Why are we in the boys’ locker room?” Sherry immediately asked.

Camille smiled. “When we first started initiations, I think we did this part in the girls’ locker room, but we quickly switched to the boys’ room instead. We didn’t want boys to get the idea that they are welcome in our locker room!”

“What happens now?” I asked.

Camille grinned. “Jim will dress you in your cheerleader outfit. First, he’ll completely undress you. I’m here to make sure you both follow the rules. Next, he’ll put your outfit on you. So, Sherry will only be nude with Jim and me.”

“You mean…?” Sherry asked, blushing.

“Yup,” Camille said. “And time is of the essence. Lynette said five minutes, and she’ll give you more like ten, but don’t hesitate too much.”

“What happens afterward?” I asked.

Camille continued grinning. “Jim will like this part. Each of the cheerleaders will come over and kiss Jim and Danny. Some of the girls may get hot and heavy with this, but this shouldn’t bother Sherry, since you two aren’t really dating. After the boys are kissed, the girls will kiss Sherry and Jackie, and most of them won’t be as sexy as they will get with the boys.”

I shrugged. I figured that there were worse things that could happen. “That’s it?”

“There will be a bit more formality, actually. Nothing else. Once it’s over, Sherry and Jackie can get their clothes and leave. We then initiate the seniors.”

“What do you do with the seniors?” Sherry asked.

“You’ll find out some other time,” Camille answered cryptically. “Now, Jim, it’s time you two got started.”

I took a deep breath and looked at Sherry. She shrugged, and I started to unbutton her blouse. I played dress-up with Kristen many times before (it was getting to be one of our favorite pastimes), and tried not to gawk at Sherry.

Still, I could see that Sherry was quite embarrassed. I ignored her and quickly removed her bra and then started working on her slacks. I pulled down Sherry’s slacks and panties in a single movement, then pulled her shoes off and her legs out of the foot holes.

One thing about the nude Sherry that startled me was the amount of hair that Sherry actually had growing between her legs. It was much hairier and darker than any pussy that I saw up to that time. I tried not to stare, so I looked instead at Sherry’s face.

I couldn’t help myself. Seeing Sherry standing there naked and embarrassed made my heart go out to her. Despite her blushing and obvious embarrassment, she stoically allowed me to undress her. I stood up and then bent down to kiss her.

This surprised Sherry, but she kissed me back. It was just a gentle kiss, one to try to get her to calm down. Sherry closed her eyes as I kissed her, and her body seemed to relax a little. I broke off the kiss after about ten seconds.

Camille handed me the cheerleader uniform and I pulled it over Sherry’s head. I quickly pulled it down over her, hiding her nudity. I took the bottoms and pulled them on her. In doing so, I could see Sherry’s hairy pussy once again. The hair was very curly and so dark as to be almost black. It was all I could do not to touch it or rub the sensitive folds hidden underneath it. I thought I could smell Sherry’s musk even over the odors of the locker room.

Finally, I had Sherry step into her sneakers, and I tied her shoelaces for her.

I looked over to Camille, who was smiling at the two of us. “I think that Sherry deserves another kiss for being a good sport about this.”

Turning to Sherry, I could see her nodding in agreement. I moved back to her and kissed her one more time, again keeping the kiss gentle and friendly. This time, the kiss lasted about twenty seconds. When I broke away, I felt Sherry’s face move with mine, seemingly intent on prolonging the kiss.

I saw Sherry’s street clothes folded neatly on the bench. Camille must have folded them as we were kissing.

Camille then surprised me by pushing past me and kissing Sherry herself. “I want to be the first cheerleader to kiss you, Sherry. I’m glad I sponsored you.”

Sherry seemed surprised by the kiss as well, but she didn’t avoid Camille. The kiss didn’t last too long.

As the two of them were kissing, I heard Jackie giggling and saying “Come on, Danny, stop!” playfully from another set of lockers. I remembered that we weren’t alone in the locker room.

With a mischievous look in her eyes, Camille quietly bid the two of us to follow her, and we tiptoed around the lockers to the aisle where Maria, Jackie, and Danny were. Danny and Jackie were kissing, and Jackie was completely nude. Danny’s hand was covering her pubic area, so I wasn’t able to get a good view of her privates. I could see one of Jackie’s breasts, which were about the size of Patty’s, except that Jackie’s nipples were very red and erect. Maria saw the three of us and smiled.

Camille motioned to Maria and pointed to her wristwatch, pointing out that Jackie and Danny were wasting valuable time. Maria only shrugged.

Jackie opened her eyes and saw the three of us, and her reaction alerted Danny, who turned around to see what Jackie was looking at.

At the same moment, Lynette came into the locker room. “All right, people. It’s time for the induction ceremony!”

Jackie looked shocked. She was still completely nude.

Danny tried quickly to pull the uniform over Jackie’s head, but got it backward, and he clumsily twisted it around.

Maria called to Lynette. “We need another thirty seconds, Lynette.”

“Jackie’s not ready?” Lynette asked.

“No,” Jackie admitted.

“How about Sherry?”

“I’m ready,” Sherry answered quickly. Jackie and Danny continued to move very quickly, and it was comical to watch them try to get Jackie dressed.

“Come out as soon as you’re ready. That means now, Sherry,” Lynette said. “Penalties for lateness will apply, Maria.”

Maria nodded, and didn’t answer.

Camille told Sherry and me to come quickly.

We followed her out of the locker room and into the gymnasium. The cheerleaders stood together in a group. Lynette smiled as she saw the three of us.

“Really thirty seconds?” Lynette asked Camille quietly.

“Danny seems to be all thumbs and fingers!”

Lynette laughed and just nodded. She turned to one of the cheerleaders that was carrying a sports bag with her. “May I have the paddle, please?”

I quietly turned to Camille. “I thought you said there would be nothing like that.”

“I promised you,” Camille whispered back. “Trust me.”

I nodded. Sherry blanched when she saw the table tennis paddle in Lynette’s hand. “Am I going…?”

“Ssh,” whispered Camille. “Don’t worry.”

The locker room door opened and Jackie and Danny burst in. Jackie looked more than a little disheveled, but her uniform was on. I noticed with some humor that Jackie’s shoelaces were untied.

“You three are late,” Lynette announced. “We don’t tolerate tardiness on the squad.” Lynette was brandishing the paddle and Jackie looked at her cousin for support.

“Maria, why were you late?” Lynette asked.

“Danny seemed to be a bit unfamiliar with the outfit,” Maria answered.

“Is this true?” Lynette asked, looking straight at Jackie.

“Um, yes,” Jackie shakily replied.

Lynette smacked the paddle against her hand menacingly. “Well, first things first. Camille, can you do the honors for Sherry, please?”

“Certainly,” Camille said, smiling. She took Sherry and me by the hands and pulled us to where Lynette stood. “Lynette Robbins, I certify that Sherry Jordan has passed her initiation with flying colors.”

Lynette nodded and said, “Sherry Jordan. You have shown courage in following our little tradition, and you have also shown promptness.” Lynette paused here and gave Jackie a threatening look. She turned back to Sherry and me and said, “I would like to be the first to welcome you as an official member of the squad.”

Lynette moved toward Sherry and kissed her on the cheek. It was a quick kiss, and she moved toward me and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “Jim Crittenhouse, I want to thank you for helping out with Sherry. You are lucky indeed to have Sherry as a friend.”

I think I may have blushed from Lynette’s kiss, even though I half expected it from Camille’s description earlier.

“Girls, who wants to thank Sherry and Jim?”

“Me!” “Me!” “Me!” A swarm of girls came over to welcome us. Sherry got a few kisses on her cheeks before the first girl found me. The girl smiled at me and kissed me straight on the lips. I could feel her tongue probe my lips, but I decided that I wasn’t going to be doing much French kissing at this time. After about fifteen seconds, the girl realized that I was playing hard to get and willingly gave up.

June Rodgers, the black cheerleader, was second and immediately replaced the first. She also tried to get past my lips. I knew from school gossip that she was dating a football linebacker inappropriately nicknamed Tiny Jonas, so I wasn’t going to let her snake her tongue into my mouth. After about thirty seconds, another cheerleader replaced her. This new girl knew that I was playing hard to get so she changed tactics and grabbed my crotch. I was so surprised that I opened my mouth and her tongue managed to get past my defenses.

After allowing that girl to French kiss me, I resigned myself to allowing the girls to kiss me in whatever way they wanted. It seemed mostly in good sport, though.

My eyes were closed when I felt a new pair of lips on mine. I opened my lips to let the new person enter and was surprised when I felt somebody suck my tongue inside her mouth. I opened my eyes and was surprised that I was once again kissing Camille.

The kiss with Camille lasted about thirty seconds, and it was quite a kiss. I could feel my heart start to race in reaction. One thing was obvious: Camille certainly knew how to kiss. It wasn’t one of Kristen’s erection specials, but it was damned close!

Finally, Camille let me go, and I saw that the other cheerleaders were all back in their little bunch where they were before.

“Sherry, you can join the other girls. Thanks again for helping us out, Jim, and if you ever find yourself in need of a cheerleader, you’ll find twenty volunteers in our group!”

“Thank you,” Sherry and I said together.

Sherry and Camille joined the other cheerleaders, and Camille took me by the hand and led me over to them.

Lynette turned her attention to the other three people. “Ah, now we get to our late arrivals.” Once again, she slapped the paddle on her hand menacingly.

Danny saw this and protested. “Wait, Lynette. Jackie is late because of me. If anybody deserves to be punished, it’s me.”

Lynette looked at Danny. “You are willing to take her punishment?”

“Yes,” Danny answered, his eyes nervously following the paddle in Lynette’s hand.

“Do you wish for Danny to take your punishment, Jackie?”

Jackie looked at Danny, and then over to where we were standing (probably looking for Camille, her cousin), and then said, “No, Lynette. It wasn’t entirely his fault.”

Lynette smiled. “Danny Strong, you have a nice heart. Jackie is lucky to have somebody like you to be with her. Jackie, you are brave, too. However, I only have this paddle here for ceremonial purposes. Jackie, just remember not to be late next time and we’ll avoid any punishments.”

A bunch of the cheerleaders giggled at Lynette’s comment, and I could see Jackie’s face look much relieved, especially as Lynette threw the paddle toward the girl with the sports bag.

Lynette said, “Alright, Maria. It’s time for you do the honors for Jackie.”

Maria grinned and brought Jackie and Danny to where Lynette was standing. “Lynette Robbins, I certify that Jackie Lombardi has passed her initiation.”

Lynette nodded and said, “Jackie Lombardi, you showed courage in deciding to take your own punishment. I would like to be the first person to welcome you as an official member of the cheerleading squad.”

Lynette kissed Jackie, and then approached Danny. “Danny Strong, thank you for sticking up for Jackie. We don’t believe in inflicting pain on any of our participants, but you may not have known that. Jackie is very lucky to have you as her friend.”

Danny received a kiss from Lynette, and the other girls moved over once again to kiss Jackie and Danny. Camille urged Sherry to go, telling her “You’re now an official cheerleader. Congratulate them!”

Sherry left, leaving just Camille and me behind. “I promised you, Jim.”

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” I said. “Aren’t you going to congratulate your cousin?”

“Yeah,” Camille smiled, and went to the end of the line.

Overall, it was a memorable day.

It was getting close to noon. My mother wanted me home that particular Saturday since we would be visiting my grandmother (on her side) that afternoon, and have supper with her. Camille dropped me off at my house with plenty of time to spare.

I went to my room to straighten it up a little (things started to pile up), and realized that I promised to give Kristen a call when I got home from the initiation.

I went downstairs into the study and picked up the phone. I called Kristen’s house, and told her that I just got home.

“That’s funny,” Kristen replied. “Sherry’s been here for five minutes.”

“Sherry’s there?” I asked.

“Yeah. She wanted to tell me about what happened. Since I didn’t have a date today, I’m inviting her to Vaughn’s. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Nope. I’ll be thinking of you… both of you.”

“Say ‘hi’ to your grandmother for me,” Kristen said.

“All right. I really wish I could see you today.”

“What time are you getting back?”

“Late. Nine o’clock or so.”

“Give me a call when you get back.”

“All right.”

I was already in a better mood. I was happy that I would get a chance to talk with Kristen later on tonight.

I spent the day with my family at my grandmother’s house. She lived about an hour away, and I found myself thinking of Kristen most of the entire day.

* * *

When we got home, I remembered my promise to call Kristen, and I was surprised when she answered directly. Usually, one of the household staff answers the phone, but Kristen set it up so that the phone rang through, waiting for my call.

“Hi, Jim!” Kristen said.

“Hello, my fair Goddess!”

“Only fair?” Kristen said, pretending to be insulted.

“None are fairer than you,” I said, smiling at the phone.

“So, are you interested in fucking tonight?” Kristen asked, looking for shock value.

I frowned. I didn’t think my parents would let me visit Kristen so late, despite the fact that I was regularly spending the night with her on weekends. “I don’t know if my mom…”

“Ask her,” Kristen said.

I knew Kristen enough that if she got an idea into her head, she wanted to do it now. “Sure,” I said, and went into the living room where my mother and step-father were watching television.

“Mom?” I asked.

“Yes, Jim?”

“May I go over to Kristen’s?”

“Now? This time of night?” my mother seemed a bit shocked.

“I haven’t seen her all day.”

“Poor baby. You can’t spend one night in your own bedroom?”

“Come on, mom…”

My mother sighed. “Is she going to pick you up?”

“If you say ‘yes.’”

“She’s not already on her way?”

I smiled. “Not unless she has a car phone. She’s on the phone right now.”

My mother smiled. “All right, Jim. You did visit Mom with us today, although your mind was almost a hundred miles away.”

“Thanks, Mom! You’re the greatest!” I ran to the phone and told Kristen the good news.

“Great. I’ll be right there.”

I was astounded when the doorbell rang about two minutes later.

“Who is that at this hour?” my mother said.

“Don’t know. Kristen just got off the phone.”

I opened the front door, and there was Kristen. “Kris! How did you…?”

“I borrowed my dad’s car. I thought I’d surprise you.”

“But I just called you at home!”

Kristen smiled. “The phone call was transferred to my father’s car. It’s neat. My dad does it all the time. I figured you’d call my personal number, and if you didn’t, the staff would have forwarded the call manually.”

“You’re something else,” I laughed. “Come on in. You worried my mother.”

“Sure.”

I took Kristen into the living room. “I’m afraid I was mistaken. She was on her father’s car phone.”

“I’m sorry if I surprised you, Mrs. Cummings.”

“Well, Jim told me that you were on the phone.”

“Dad tells me he’ll get me a car phone when I get my MBA.”

“What’s an MBA?” I asked.

“It’s short for Master of Business Administration. It’s a degree you get in a place like Harvard Business School.”

“Have you been accepted to Harvard?” my mother asked, impressed.

“Um, I didn’t apply there,” Kristen said. “I’m probably going to spend a couple of years at the local community college.”

“Community college?”

“Patty’s going there, and I thought I’d attend with her. I can get most of the credits there transferred to most other schools in the state. I’m looking for my associates degree, and then I’ll attend college most likely in Massachusetts where I’ll get my bachelor’s and MBA.”

“Oh.”

“Well, we must be running. Are you ready, Jim?”

“Um… yes,” I was a bit amazed by this exchange. Kristen told me that it was possible for her to attend community college, but I didn’t think that idea would have flown over very well with her parents.

I found a coat and left the house with Kristen. Kristen’s father’s Mercedes was in the driveway behind my mother’s car. We got into the car and took off.

“So, did you have fun with Sherry today?” I asked.

Kristen nodded and said, “We talked. I heard that you had some fun, too. Sherry told me that all the cheerleaders gave you rather hefty kisses.”

“I was just doing what I was told…” I explained.

“Oh, pooh!” Kristen said. “I’m not jealous. Well, maybe a little. I heard you played dress-up with Sherry. Maybe we’ll do that tomorrow morning. I have a new push-up bra that I’d like you to check out.”

“Oh, sure. So, what did the two of you do?”

“We went to Vaughn’s. Sherry needed me to take her to Camille’s for something else later, so I dropped her off there.”

Kristen smiled. “So, while she was over, I invited Sherry over tomorrow, and she called her parents and they said yes. We’ll be seeing Sherry tomorrow.”

“Is the playroom still set up for the party?” I asked, wondering if the bed was back.

“No, I was going to have everything moved back in this morning,” Kristen explained. “Now, I’ve decided that I’m working on a new layout, though, since all the rooms in the building are not being used except for the garage. I was thinking of making this a huge apartment with a couple of bedrooms, and such. You can help me; it will be our own home, complete with a master bedroom, a decent kitchen, a guest room or two, and stuff like that.”

“You make it sound like I’ll be living there,” I pointed out.

“Why not?” Kristen asked. “You’re already living here on weekends.”

I shrugged. “My mom may have a few words about that, but I’d love to help you design it.”

“I’ve already started moving all my stuff from the main house into here. Even if you won’t move here full time, I will.”

“You’re moving into your playroom for real?”

“Yup, but it’s now my apartment. My parents already approved it. I’ve even paid rent to my father through the end of the year. An idea had been floating through my mind for a few weeks now, but I wanted to let you know when everything fell into place. You’ll love it when we’re done with it.”

“So, I guess Madison is out for this weekend.”

Kristen looked at me. “I’ll drive if you really want to go, but we’ll have to call Sherry and the rest of the guests that you invited.”

“I forgot about Patrice and Jack. I actually feel like relaxing this weekend. Staying here would be a nice idea.”

“You don’t mind that I invited Sherry, do you?” Kristen asked.

“I’d like to see Sherry again. I’m glad the two of you are becoming friends.”

Kristen looked at me. “That was your plan all along, wasn’t it?”

I think my expression betrayed me, so I said, “Well, yes. She didn’t like you, and I told her that she should get to know you before making judgments. Remember how I originally felt about you before I got to know you?”

Kristen nodded.

When we got to Kristen’s new apartment, I found that the bedroom now contained a king sized bed. I whistled at it.

“Let’s inaugurate it, Jim!”

“Hmmm,” I answered. “Let’s do it proper, then.”

“What do you mean, proper?”

I didn’t answer, but took Kristen by the hand out of the bedroom. I then picked her up off her feet and carried her into the bedroom. “My darling, it would be my honor to carry you across this threshold.”

“Oh, my hero!” Kristen swooned in her Scarlet O’Hara voice.

Carrying Kristen back into the bedroom, I deposited her onto the bed and said, “It is time for me to unwrap my gift!” Within seconds, I threw Kristen’s clothes all throughout the bedroom. She was wearing a pair of crotchless panties—my naughty minx!—and I took them off as well. I wanted her naked.

“What’s next, my hero?” my naked Kristen asked breathlessly.

“Tonight, I make tender love to you. I will suck on those lovely breasts and lick your beautiful pussy all night. I will make love to you the exact same way that you love to suck on my cock. I want to do all the work tonight.”

Kristen looked at me strangely. “Do you mean that I won’t get to suck you?”

“Not until after seven in the morning. This is your night, my fair Goddess. I get to hug, fondle, suck, and do whatever I want to you, and the only thing you can do in return is kiss me. Well, you can moan or whimper, if you feel the need.”

Kristen made a face. “I don’t whimper!”

“And I don’t snore!” I laughed in response.

Kristen laughed as well. “One of these days, I’m gonna make a cassette recording and prove that you snore!”

“And I’ll deny that it’s me on the tape,” I answered smugly. “You’ll have proved nothing.”

The two of us giggled and kissed. We were two teenagers in love, and I tried my best to make this the most special night for my lovely blonde Goddess.

I spent over an hour sucking, pinching, kneading, and loving her breasts. I then moved southward, lapping up the aromatic juices from between her legs. I kissed her face and we sucked each other’s tongues into our mouths.

Kristen experienced a couple of small orgasms, and she fell asleep during my second onslaught on her breasts. Her hands were absently patting my hair as I sucked her breast. I could feel the rhythmic movement of her chest as she slept.

I fell asleep as well, luxuriating in the warmth of Kristen’s body and the heavy down comforters on the bed. I woke up to Kristen now-familiar sucking of my cock. Without having to open my eyes, I knew that it was exactly seven o’clock and zero seconds.

It didn’t take Kristen long for her talented mouth to get me to shoot off. I desperately needed to pee, so I got up after I came, but Kristen held me down.

“I loved what you did for me last night,” Kristen said, kissing me. I could taste the residue from my semen in her mouth.

“I wanted to make it special for you, Goddess,” I said, once we broke from the kiss. “I wanted it as special as you always make it for me.”

Kristen looked at me sternly, “Can you please make me a promise?”

“Anything, my dear.”

“Let’s not do that too often,” Kristen said. “I still have the cravings, even if they are minor. I found that having you with me last night is distracting. I couldn’t sleep very well knowing that you are so close and I was not allowed to suck you.”

I looked at Kristen and saw that she was serious. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Kris!”

Kristen sobbed quietly. “I’m not hurt, Jim. I know you meant well, and I love you for that. You just need to know that I don’t always suck you just to please you; I have a need as well. I know it’s selfish…”

“No, Kristen,” I interrupted. “It’s not selfish. If anyone was selfish, you can blame me. I am responsible for those cravings, and that was selfish of me to do that to you. I guess it was also selfish of me for what I did last night.” I sighed as I realized that I unintentionally hurt my beloved Kristen once again.

Kristen shook her head. “No. You just didn’t understand. You didn’t know or even suspect that giving me the craving would have such a long-term effect. You didn’t realize that for me to see you naked and know that I’m not allowed to suck you would be frustrating for me.”

I sighed once again. It was nice to have such an understanding lover, but in my heart, I knew that I was the selfish one. I didn’t see any resolution in arguing the point with Kristen now.

Kristen looked at my rigid erection. “You look as if that thing is going to burst. Can we do the tree in the forest thing?”

This brought a tiny smile to my lips. Kristen was describing a game that we sometimes played in the morning. She would run into the bathroom and into the shower. I’d run in after her and she’d take my morning wood and aim it toward herself. When my warm piss hit Kristen’s body, it would usually have the effect of Kristen relieving herself in the tub as well. Afterward, the two of us would start up the shower and thoroughly wash each other’s bodies with the slippery soap. Breasts, fingers, cheeks, asses, thighs, knees, and a penis would have fun. Kristen really loved it when soapy hands caressed her breasts. “I’d love to do that,” I said.

Playing like this with Kristen was fun. I knew that I would look forward to living with her every day for the rest of my life.

* * *

Later that morning, Kristen drove over to Sherry’s house to pick her up.

When the two girls arrived back at the playroom, we gave Sherry the grand tour, with Kristen explaining the renovations that she was planning. Sherry only saw the living room the previous day, and she seemed a bit surprised at the transformation of Kristen’s apartment from the party the other day. “Wow, the place has changed overnight.”

“That’s what you get when you pay top dollar,” Kristen commented.

Sherry didn’t respond, but looked around. She noticed the king sized bed in the bedroom and blushed a bit.

Kristen said, “Jim and I were thinking of using the spa, today. Do you want to join us?”

“Spa?” Sherry asked.

“We have a steam room, hot tub, and an indoor swimming pool in the Solarium at the main house. Next to it, there’s an exercise room. Jim has been slacking off his workouts.”

“I don’t have a bathing suit,” Sherry said.

Kristen smiled. “Don’t worry. We don’t use them.”

Sherry did a double take. “Skinny dipping?”

“Sherry,” Kristen said softly. “We invited Patty, Camille, Patrice, and even Jim’s sister Merry in that pool before. It’s no big deal.”

“What about your parents?”

Kristen smiled. “Those are the house rules. They won’t join in, though. They wouldn’t want to make anybody uncomfortable.”

Sherry didn’t seem comfortable, so Kristen decided to change tack. “I’m sorry, Sherry. I didn’t intend to embarrass you. I have a couple of decks of cards, including a few Uno decks if you wish to play cards. We also have Pong, if you like video games.”

I noticed Sherry’s eyes light up. “I played Pong at the department store. It’s neat. You actually have one here?”

“Sure,” answered Kristen, who seemed happy to have gotten over that bump in the road. “And Uno is a card game that’s pretty fun with three people. Jim likes it because he can win against me occasionally.”

“Hey!” I protested. The two girls ignored me, smirking.

“That sounds like fun!” Sherry said, enthusiastically.

“For lunch, Harry will bring us a pizza.”

“Who’s Harry?” I asked Kristen, not familiar with that name.

“Edgar retired on Friday,” Kristen said. “He’s worked for my father for twenty years. Harry is his replacement. He used to work here, but left due to family problems. He’s been on vacation since the beginning of summer and started working full time yesterday.”

I laughed. “I liked Edgar. He seemed stuffy, but you can tell after a while that it’s just an act. Kristen told me that he also drove her father’s car, but I never saw him in a car yet.”

“Edgar was the chauffeur in title only,” Kristen said. “He just sat around the house for the most part. Harry is about ten years younger than Edgar is. He’s about sixty-five and he actually does drive, if you need a lift.”

I hadn’t realized how old Edgar was.

The three of us hung out at Kristen’s apartment that day and we all had fun playing games. Sherry learned that Kristen was a sharp and ruthless card player, and quickly switched to Uno on my recommendation.

Patrice, Jack, and Doreen arrived that afternoon, and we all found out that Kristen was ruthless at Monopoly as well. It was nice seeing Patrice pretty much the way that I remembered her a while ago as a friend. I also found Doreen to be a very nice person, although she was rather shy. Jack and I fell naturally into our old camaraderie.

Kristen won Monopoly, despite Jack’s and my attempt to sort of ally against her. It was futile; Kristen built an empire on the early acquisition of the orange properties (St. James Place, Tennessee Ave., and New York Ave.) that nobody thought were too important. She then slowly acquired higher priced properties and she collected the rents as she built houses and hotels as quick as she could. Slowly but surely, everybody else found themselves with less and less money and property until Kristen was the obvious winner.

I found Doreen to be an interesting person. I saw her give away Park Place to Jack in a very transparent way to help us out (he went bankrupt despite her largess), and she really seemed to be interested in Jack as a person.

Jack, on the other hand, seemed to be fumbling along in the love business (although I admit that I am not any authority on that subject, then or even now!). Still, when he looked at Doreen when he didn’t think she was looking at him, you could see that he was completely smitten by her.

I found myself happy for Jack and Doreen. In a way, I was responsible for the two of them getting together, and I was glad that something came from it. In another way, however, I found myself reminded of Marla every time I’d look at Doreen or Jack. In addition, thinking of Marla brought on those feelings of guilt that I felt during Merry’s birthday party.

It was obvious to me that Kristen noticed how I felt, but to her credit, she kept quiet and didn’t say anything to embarrass me.

After Patrice drove Jack and Doreen home, I started thinking again about the importance of friends. Once I started dating Kristen, I didn’t try to keep track of Jack. In retrospect, it’s difficult. Once you find the love of your life, wouldn’t any sane person want to spend every waking moment loving her and doing things to let her know that you really loved her?

That day, I realized that the answer to that rhetorical question was an emphatic “NO!” Yes, you spend time with the love of your life and always let her know how you feel, but you don’t do it to the exclusion of all the other relationships that you cultivated throughout your life.

I spent about five years pissed off at Patrice, who severed her friendship to me, apparently at the whim of Kristen. It now occurred to me that I did much the same thing once I fell in love with Kristen. I always thought that I was better than that. I never once suspected that I could act that way, but it was true: once I found Kristen in my life, I no longer felt a need to spend time with my old friends like Jack.

I could see that I was starting to act like an asshole. I was glad I realized it without having somebody have to shout it to me. I firmly resolved that I would cherish all the friendships that I cultivated, including the ones that preceded my finding those “lucky tickets.”

The most difficult friendship would probably be Doreen. I still knew that I did not do right by her cousin, and I would have to get past that guilt before I could see Doreen as anything other than a reminder of how much a jackass I could be.

My friendship with Sherry was another relationship that would never be easy. She was still infatuated with me. Despite this, she patched up what could have been a catastrophic rift between Kristen and me. Despite her feelings toward Kristen and me, she truly acted as a friend. She would be a good example of how a friend should act.

At dinnertime, Kristen drove Sherry and me back to our houses. I managed to give Sherry a quick kiss good-bye before she left Kristen’s car to go into her house.

“She’s starting to come out of her shell,” Kristen said when we were alone. “She seems afraid to be with you when I’m around.”

“I think she’s doesn’t want to be seen as trying to steal me.”

Kristen nodded.

We drove in silence, and Kristen said, “Have you packed yet for Thanksgiving?”

“We’ve got four weeks to pack!” I said.

“Well, only pack one suitcase. I’ll have some of your clothes from my place dry cleaned and pressed.”

Kristen and I were going to be flying into Boston to celebrate Thanksgiving with Kristen’s brother, Will. Kristen already received permission from my mother, to my extreme surprise. Up until this year, Thanksgiving was always a family holiday, even during those difficult times when she was married to my real father.

“I’ve never been to Boston before,” I said, thinking of Paul Revere, the Boston Massacre, and other important events in American history that happened there.

“You’ll love it,” Kristen assured me. “I bought Will an apartment in Cambridge. We’ll go to Fanueil Hall, MIT, Harvard, and all the other sights you’ll want to see.”

“Will we have time alone?” I asked.

“Of course, darling,” Kristen answered. “Will knows all about us, and he already likes you. He’s already made reservations at some nice places for when we’ll be there.”

“Your brother sounds like a pretty neat guy,” I said, still feeling a bit of jealousy over Kristen’s relationship with her brother.

Kristen didn’t answer me.

I still hadn’t made up my mind about Will. Kristen assured me that Will was a close friend and confidante to her, and I still felt a bit jealous over his sexual relationship with his sister.

Despite Kristen’s assurances that I was her one and only love, I still wondered if that would change when she met with her brother again. After all, they had a longer history together; Kristen knew Will since she was born. Will was also Kristen’s first and only sexual partner until I came into her life.

Then I thought about today. I saw how Kristen invited Sherry into her apartment. She knew very well that Sherry was still in love with me. Despite that, Kristen invited Sherry over and even suggested that the three of us go skinny-dipping. I knew that Kristen also had a jealous streak. If Kristen could be as graceful as that with Sherry, then I might as well try to give Will at least the benefit of the doubt.

Kristen arrived at my house, and we kissed for a minute or so in the moonlight.

“I love you, Kris,” I said.

“I’ll always love you, Jim,” Kristen answered.

I sighed. Was I the luckiest person in the world, or what?

Chapter 7—Thanksgiving in Boston

Talk about the life in Massachusetts,

Speak about the people I have seen,

And the lights all went out in Massachusetts,

And Massachusetts is one place I have seen.

I will remember Massachusetts...

I will remember Massachusetts...

Bee Gees

Massachusetts

It was the day before Thanksgiving, and I was in the Swift’s family Mercedes with Harry driving Kristen and me to Chicago’s O’Hare Airport.

We gave our bags to the skycap, and I handed him a twenty-dollar bill that Kristen gave to me earlier when we were in the car. He looked at our tickets and saw that we were flying first class. He stapled our claim checks to our ticket folder, and Kristen and I entered the bustling airport.

I never flew before in my life. Of course, I visited this airport a few times; the last time was when we picked up Patty after she came back from New Jersey. Even so, I never saw it so busy.

Kristen noticed me gawking at the crowds and giggled. “It’s the day before Thanksgiving, silly. Of course, it’s going to be crowded.”

My darling Kristen was aware that this was my first flight, and was determined to make it memorable for me.

We showed up at the departure gate about twenty minutes before the scheduled departure time. The status board showed that our flight would be late in departing.

Kristen smiled at the flight attendant as we checked in at the gate, and after we got our boarding passes she took me by the hand to a cocktail lounge near the gate. She slapped a bill on the bar and asked the bartender for two glasses of Chianti.

The bartender looked at the two of us, probably noticing that I was most likely under the minimum drinking age of eighteen. He saw Kristen’s stare, and he lowered his eyes and found that she placed a fifty-dollar bill on the bar. He took the bill and poured us our drinks.

This wasn’t the first time that I saw Kristen order something alcoholic, but it was the first time that I saw her sort of insist on it. Once we obtained our drinks, Kristen led me to a table in a dark corner.

“You look so nervous that you might just shake your clothes off,” Kristen noted.

I looked at the wine dubiously. Despite the fact that I was underage, I did not share most of my fellow teenagers’ desires for a taste of the forbidden drink. My real father was a drinker, and I always associated his drinking with the behavior that caused him to leave my mother and me. The only alcoholic beverages that I drank were occasional tastes of Champagne that I shared with Kristen, usually for celebratory purposes.

I didn’t know if Kristen’s suggestion of a glass of “liquid courage” would help. She urged me to drink it, however. After I saw Kristen take a couple of sips, I did the same. The wine tasted very tart and didn’t seem to do anything to my stomach, which admittedly was indeed turning cartwheels.

I left most of my wine behind when the loudspeaker announced our flight. Kristen and I returned to the gate where they were pre-boarding first class passengers, and the person at the doorway was a bit surprised to see that Kristen and I were traveling first class.

We walked from the runway up the stairs into the jet, and found that our seats were the second row—very close to the entrance of the plane. Kristen had a purse and a small carry-on bag, and she placed her purse in a pocket in front of our seat and her bag in the overhead bin. The flight attendant offered us some pillows and blankets, and Kristen accepted some for both of us.

The seats were roomy and the arm between them lifted to make a nice and comfortable chair just a bit smaller than a love seat for the two of us.

The flight attendant returned and asked us if we wanted anything, suggesting some Champagne. Kristen looked at me and then nodded at the woman, who left to retrieve a small bottle for the two of us.

I watched the rest of the people start to board. It seemed like quite a crowd, and I wondered aloud if everybody would fit.

“Sometimes they overbook,” Kristen observed. “That rarely happens in first class.”

In between the people moving through the aisles, our flight attendant brought over a couple of small boxes of chocolates. Kristen accepted one and I declined the other one.

“First time flying?” the flight attendant asked me.

“How can you tell?” I asked.

The flight attendant smiled. “You look like Alice in Wonderland.”

“It’s hard to imagine how a vehicle this big with this many people on it will actually get off the ground.”

“We’ll do so, as long as God doesn’t repeal the laws of physics,” the flight attendant said. She noticed our bottle of Champagne and said, “Oh, dear. I forgot the glasses. I’ll be right back.”

When the flight attendant left, Kristen turned to me and smiled. “She thinks you’re cute.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry,” Kristen giggled. “I won’t let her attack you. I’m here in the aisle seat ready to defend you.”

This reminded me. “Are you sure you don’t want the window?”

“No, dear. I want you to be able to see outside all you want. It’s your first trip, remember?”

“Thanks, love!”

The flight attendant arrived with our glasses. They clinked as she set them on the tray. “Are you on vacation from college?” she asked.

I was about to correct the flight attendant when Kristen answered, “We’re visiting my brother, who lives in Cambridge. He goes to Boston University.”

The flight attendant smiled at us and poured our drinks. “Well, I trust that the two of you will be good.”

“Thank you,” I answered.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the crew closed the boarding door. There was a series of amusing announcements, including how to fasten your seat belt, what to do in the event of a water landing (I whispered to Kristen, “Isn’t a ‘water landing’ also technically referred to as a ‘crash?’” which caused her to burst out laughing during the demonstration). The stewardess also showed us where the emergency exits were. I started to worry that there would be a test afterward.

The plane started to taxi away from the terminal, and then there was another delay, as the aircraft needed to wait its turn to take off.

My ears popped after we took off, and Kristen smiled at me. “We’re in the air now!”

Luckily I knew a trick on how to “unpop” my ears. When I was a baby, I caught the measles. As a result, I was left with an 85 percent hearing loss, which was corrected in an operation where they also removed my tonsils since they were in the same general area. Ever since then, I was able to “pop” and “unpop” my ears simply by breathing through my nose while pressing the same muscles that I press when I normally yawn. This action depended on whether or not I was breathing in (“pop”) or out (“unpop”) through my nose. This is about the first time that I’ve ever been able to describe this action accurately, by the way.

I saw the ground below, and realized that for the first time in my life, I no longer had a physical connection to the planet Earth. It was an exhilarating feeling, and I was glad that I was sharing the experience with my beloved Kristen.

Our flight would last two and a half hours, during which we would be getting a meal. Kristen pulled the blankets over the two of us and curled up with a pillow, facing away from me toward the aisle.

I thought Kristen’s behavior was unusual. First, she usually sleeps over the covers, preferring a chilly atmosphere when she sleeps, unlike me. I never knew her to curl up with a blanket around her like that.

The tiny blanket was over both of us, though, so I took Kristen’s hint and placed one of the tiny pillows next to her shoulder and cuddled next to her.

After about ten minutes, Kristen appeared to be asleep. However, I felt a gentle movement under the blanket. I was surprised to feel Kristen’s fingers start to pull down the zipper in my slacks. I didn’t see any movement from over the covers, though, so I relaxed. If Kristen wanted to give me a hand job, that was her prerogative. I never experienced one from Kristen in this position with her facing away from me. I just hoped it wouldn’t lead to an embarrassing mess on the seat.

Once Kristen found that my member was hard, she moved slightly, and I noticed that my dick was against her ass. I could actually feel the skin on her backside; Kristen’s skirt must have ridden up.

Underneath the blanket, I moved my hand over to where Kristen was still guiding my cock, and was surprised to find bare skin from the top (her left side) to the bottom. She wasn’t wearing any panties! I verified this with a slow insertion of my finger between her legs, and found the squishy wetness of her cunt.

It was at this point that I noticed that Kristen and I were in the “spoon” position. This was the position where her backside would be against my front.

Kristen’s movements now made sense to me. Slowly, I moved my body and Kristen’s hand guided me into her hole. It required a little maneuvering between the two of us, but we did it. I slowly started pushing in and out of Kristen’s lovely body.

Due to the slow pace—I didn’t want people to notice—it took me a bit longer than usual to reach orgasm. That was fine with me, as the feeling was exquisite. During that time, I managed to move one of my hands down Kristen’s chest and I could feel Kristen’s breast, unencumbered of any bra, and its rock hard nipple. I started squeezing her sensitive breast in time with my slow thrusts.

Eventually, I reached my limit. Kristen sensed my cock start twitching and she clenched and unclenched her cunt muscles somehow, as if her body was trying to milk me. I started to pump my semen into her body, and I heard her exhale a happy sigh in response.

Afterward, I wasn’t completely sure what to do. I pulled away, and tried to zip up. I couldn’t get myself into the proper position, though.

Kristen pretended that she just woke up. “Hmmm, you need to go to the bathroom?”

Go to the bathroom! Now, that was a good idea.

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“The lavatories are over there,” Kristen pointed lazily.

I nodded my understanding.

Kristen then whispered, “Three knocks, and then one, and then open the door.”

“OK,” I said, wondering what Kristen planned next.

I got up past Kristen and went into a lavatory. It was surprisingly small. I was about to get a paper towel when I heard Kristen’s pre-arranged signal.

Despite the cramped quarters, I opened the door anyway. Kristen rushed past me, closed the door behind her and sat on the toilet.

Kristen turned me so that I was facing her, and she pulled out my wilted dick. It still contained our combined juices on it, and Kristen simply opened her mouth and sucked it in.

Having nothing to do, I unbuttoned Kristen’s blouse, and played with Kristen’s lovely breasts. I could tell by feeling them that her nipples were quite erect.

Kristen cleaned me up in no time, but continued sucking for a couple of minutes more as I continued to play with her breasts. Finally, she smiled and whispered, “Thanks. I’ll be out in a few.”

Again, I nodded my understanding and put my still-erect penis into my pants. I now considered my situation. How was I going to get out of the lavatory if somebody was watching?

I took a deep breath, and opened the door. I didn’t see anybody around, so I quickly closed the door behind me and heard Kristen once again lock the catch.

Back in my seat, I could still smell Kristen’s faint musk from our encounter. I quickly moved the blankets over me and tried to act innocent.

The flight attendant came over and smiled. “Is this your first time?” she asked me, quietly.

I thought she asked me that question before. “Yes,” I repeated.

The flight attendant looked around and then leaned down over me and whispered, “Welcome to the Mile High Club.” She then kissed me on the cheek, and quickly moved on.

I was quite confused, and Kristen returned a minute or so later. She noticed my look of confusion. “What’s up, honey?”

I told Kristen about the flight attendant, omitting only her kiss, and Kristen thought it so funny that she laughed outright.

“What’s the joke?” I asked.

“I’ll explain it in a bit,” Kristen replied, and she got out of her seat and walked toward the area where the flight attendants were preparing a meal. Our flight attendant noticed her and pulled her aside. There was a quick whispered conversation between the two of them, and Kristen came back to our seat, still smiling.

“What’s this all about?”

Kristen looked at me and then whispered, “The Mile High Club is just a name they give for people who ‘do it’ on an airplane.”

I was a bit surprised that this happened so often that there was actually a name for it.

“In addition,” Kristen continued, “our stewardess won the pool. The five stews have a pool, five dollars each per flight, on who they think will join. They didn’t have any winners on the last three flights, so the kitty is up to a hundred dollars!”

I was amused, and then a bit stunned as I realized that our actions hadn’t been as private as we thought.

* * *

The flight attendant was very friendly with Kristen and me after that exchange. She kept smiling at us knowingly all through the trip, which was making me more and more embarrassed each time she did so. Kristen thought my embarrassment was cute, of course.

The two of us played around a few times after that first encounter. Since she was still without panties, I was able to rub her to a small orgasm, which I could only detect by the sudden change in her breathing. Another time, she laid her head in my lap with my cock in close proximity. She gave me a slow and pleasant suckle for about twenty minutes, during which the flight attendant walked by and gave me a knowing wink. I simply shrugged, reveling in the sensations that Kristen’s talented mouth were able to elicit.

Later on, the flight attendant warned Kristen that the seat belt light would be on in about five minutes. Kristen thanked her, took her purse, and left for the bathroom.

I was curious about what Kristen was doing, and when she came back, she explained, “I asked for the warning. I needed to get proper.”

My confusion ended when I noticed that Kristen was now wearing a bra, and presumably her panties as well. I smiled in understanding.

As we left the plane, Kristen discreetly handed our flight attendant an envelope, which she later told me contained two hundred dollars.

At Boston’s Logan Airport, we met Will at the gate.

Kristen showed me some pictures of Will, but none of them were recent. I hadn’t expected the tall, brown haired hunk that met us at the gate. Will was about six foot, three inches tall. His head was full of wavy brown hair that fell down to his shoulders. His shoulders were broad, and when he greeted Kristen, he picked her up off her feet and kissed her full on the lips.

Once he let Kristen down, Kristen introduced me, and he greeted me with a warm and very firm handshake. I looked into his brown eyes, and he did the same to me; our eyes locked for a few moments as we sized each other up.

“He seems to be a good man, Krissie,” Will said.

Kristen, who I knew hated that nickname, except when the two of us were playing “dress-up,” playfully hit Will on the shoulder.

There was another man with us. Will introduced us to his roommate, Robert. Robert wasn’t as tall as Will was, but he was a bit taller than my five feet, eleven-and-a-half inches (on tiptoes). His brown hair was cut shorter than the current style at the time. I shook his hand as well.

“You guys hungry?” Will asked.

“Think we can make it to Legal?” Kristen asked.

Will frowned. “Legal doesn’t take reservations, but most people are probably getting ready to cook a big meal and may not be out tonight. What do you think, Jim?”

I was clueless as to what they were talking about, but I noticed that Kristen was excited so I went along. “That sounds good to me. What kind of food?”

The three others stared at me.

Kristen scrunched her nose, giggled, and explained, “This is Jim’s first trip to Boston.” She turned to me and said, “The name is Legal Seafood. It’s a fish place with great lobster.”

I realized that we were on the proper coast for a Maine lobster, and I grinned. “Sounds even gooder to me.”

“Gooder?” Kristen asked.

“’Legal’ sounded good,” I explained. “’Legal Seafood’ sounds gooder. Don’t correct me.”

Kristen scrunched her nose and giggled again.

Will shook his head and asked Kristen. “Where did you get that tic?”

“What tic?” Kristen asked.

“You did it when you giggled,” Will explained. “You never did that before.”

“Huh?” Kristen asked, totally bewildered.

It finally dawned on me. “Kristen, I told you how you scrunch your nose when you giggle.”

“I do not!” Kristen said, giggling, and most definitely scrunching her nose.

After a burst of laughter from everybody, Kristen finally gave in. “All right. I do, but only when Jim’s around. He… um… expects it.”

“I think it’s cute,” Will said.

“I think she’s adorable,” I said, agreeing one hundred percent with Will.

* * *

During the evening, I found Will to be a genuinely pleasant person. He didn’t seem like a phony, and if you said something funny, his laugh was infectious.

I could see love in Kristen’s eyes when she looked at her brother. One thing I noticed, though, was that it was different from the emotion I saw when Kristen looked at me. I also noticed that Will had the same look in his eyes when he looked at Kristen. Somehow, this made me feel more secure.

On the other hand, I found it difficult trying to figure out Robert. He didn’t seem as sure of himself as Will was, and didn’t offer much into the conversation.

Near the end of the meal, I remembered Kristen telling me that Will’s apartment had two bedrooms. I now realized that if Will and his roommate each had a separate bedroom, Kristen and I might not have a bed to share. It didn’t really matter to me, though. Kristen promised me that we’d have reservations at a hotel sometime during our trip, and I trusted her.

Robert left the table to use the men’s room, and Kristen started talking to Will about him. I saw this same behavior before with my other female friends; when one leaves, the others start talking about the person who just left.

“Robert seems shy,” Kristen observed.

“Sometimes, he’s such a flirt,” Will said.

That was an odd statement from Will. I hadn’t noticed Robert looking at any of the girls—or even Kristen, for that matter—in the restaurant.

“How are Mom and Dad?” Will asked.

“Doing fine,” Kristen said, smiling. “Dad’s working his ass off, as usual. Mom’s the queen socialite the way she always was.”

Will nodded. He looked at me. “Kristen was right about you, Jim. I don’t want to embarrass you, but I want you to know that I’m protective of my little sister. I can tell, now that I have met you, that you are everything she told me about you. I’m sure you will make her a happy woman.”

I felt my face go red.

“Will, stop,” said Kristen, her eyes blazing. “You know that he’s not on his own turf.”

“I know,” Will said. “Sorry, Jim. As I said, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I hope we remain good friends.”

“Um… me, too,” I answered.

The meal, of course, was excellent. To this day, when I am in that area, I look forward to eating at Legal Seafood—it has expanded from that one restaurant to a chain of them.

* * *

Will’s apartment in Cambridge was a little more than twice the current size of Kristen’s apartment back in Illinois. There were two bedrooms at opposite ends of the apartment, each with its own bathroom, and there was a living room, kitchen, and even a small dining room.

Will indicated that Kristen and I retire to the “guest room” on the side of the apartment near the dining room and kitchen. Kristen and I moved our luggage into the room.

“Will and Robert will be sharing a room tonight?” I asked.

“They share a room every night,” Kristen said.

Seeing my reaction, Kristen said, “Oh, shit. Yeah. Will is bisexual—bi, for short.”

“You mean…”

“Yes. They share a room just like us,” Kristen explained. “I think Robert is just a temporary fling, though. Will seems to think Robert is a bit of a flirt.”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say.

Kristen looked at me for a minute. “Jim, my brother’s lifestyle doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“Um, no…” I said quickly.

“He’s bisexual,” Kristen explained. “I can tell you that there’s nothing wrong with his plumbing as far as this female is concerned.”

“I just thought…”

Kristen frowned. “I’m really sorry. I was going to tell you a couple of months ago, when I told you about Will being adopted. I really think that I should have. It would have given you more time to deal with it.”

I nodded. My head was spinning from this new information.

Kristen added, “You know, last year, Will and I had a long talk about his sexuality. He knows that he doesn’t live a mainstream lifestyle, but he is who and what he is. As he put it, it’s not as if he doesn’t love girls. He does. He just also likes boys. Doesn’t that make him a much more loving person?”

“I don’t know.”

“Remember what Camille told us?” Kristen asked. “She said not to let things fester. Will is my brother, and he is, additionally, my friend. Talk with him. Tomorrow, we’ll be going to Sturbridge to have dinner at a place called the Publick House. It’s a great New England inn. We have reservations for dinner as well as two rooms nearby, if we decide to spend the night there. You’ll have plenty of time to talk with him. He’s the nicest guy this side of Chicago.” Kristen paused, and added, “At least, he was until you landed here!”

Kristen earned herself a kiss for that compliment.

“Oh, and Robert will be with his own folks tomorrow, so it will just be the three of us.”

I smiled, and watched Kristen unpack her bag. I opened one of my own bags and found a suit that I never saw before.

“A suit?” I asked.

“Thanksgiving is a nice day to dress up,” Kristen answered. She pulled out a ravishing evening gown from her own luggage. “Wouldn’t you like to put your Krissie doll into this?”

I gulped, as I saw the matching lingerie that she revealed when she picked the gown out of her suitcase.

Kristen saw my reaction and smiled. “Now hang that thing up before I have to iron it, and you know how I hate doing that sort of thing!”

I got the message and did as my Goddess requested.

That night, Kristen was a fireball in bed. We started with a sixty-nine position. To make things a bit different, I placed Kristen’s head on the pillows, with my head towards the foot of the bed. It was a king size bed, and there was plenty of room to rotate.

* * *

The next morning, we got into the car that Will rented for the weekend and drove the hour to Sturbridge. Our reservations were for a two o’clock seating for dinner, so we walked around the grounds. Kristen left Will and me alone.

“I see Kris told you my horrible secret,” Will said. I think it was his way of breaking the ice.

“I wouldn’t say ‘horrible,’” I answered. “I just didn’t know that about you.”

“Does it change your opinion of me?”

I hesitated. For some reason, my opinion did seem to change. I wondered why that was.

Will waited a few moments and then said, “You know that I love Kristen with every ounce of my being, Jim. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

“I understand that,” I said.

Will continued, “If I thought that my lifestyle would hurt her, I’d give it up in a heartbeat.”

“You would?”

“Yes,” Will assured me. “And if it hurts you, then it will hurt Kristen as well.”

I looked at the man who was telling me this. “I love Kristen with every breath that I take, Will. If you changed your lifestyle, it would probably hurt her as well. And I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her that way.”

Will looked at me for a long moment. “What are you trying to say?”

I sighed. “What I’m saying is that we both love Kristen. Neither one of us would want to hurt her. I just want you to understand that I didn’t have any real opportunity to think about this; I only found out last night. To tell you the truth, I cannot see any reason why it should make any difference to me.”

“Most homophobia is rooted in insecurity,” Will said.

“Homo-what?”

“Fear of homosexuals,” Will explained. “I’m not a homosexual, but I sometimes hang out with them. They’re people, too. They’re lovely people. They have to put up with a lot of hatred just to express their love.”

“I’ve never thought of it that way.”

Will said, “I love females. I also love males. I think it’s wonderful—I love everybody! Straight people—people like you, Jim—sometimes fear that if people such as my friends or I exist, then we may be some kind of threat to them.”

I thought about it for a few moments. “Kristen told me about you loving everybody. I think it’s an interesting way to put it, but something about the way you say it makes me think it’s a bit shallow.”

Will stopped walking and turned to me. “What do you mean, shallow?”

“I love Kristen,” I explained. “It’s an all-consuming love. If I felt that way toward everybody, though, I would never be able to have any friends, and I’ve found out recently how important and necessary friends are.”

Will pondered what I said. “Well, I didn’t mean that I have a physical relationship with everybody, Jim. I just meant that I don’t exclude half the human race just because they happen to be male.”

I nodded. “That makes more sense, Will, but I still see a difference. With Kristen, the two of us can raise a family.”

Will smiled at me. “Well, if I was to settle on one person, and that person happened to be male, then we might be able to adopt. As an adopted child myself, I can see the benefits. Of course, a male partner and I would not probably be able to adopt due to the two of us being male, and that’s another way that homophobia raises its ugly head. Nobody knows what the future will bring, though; maybe people will be more enlightened in the 1980s.”

I considered what Will said, and we resumed walking. “I wish you the best in the future, Will.”

Will nodded. “Kristen said you were a smart person, Jim. You are insightful, as well.”

“What do you mean?”

Will said, wistfully, “Once upon a time, I loved somebody in a way similar to the love you describe with Kristen. I will love that person until the day I die. That love is no longer mine, though. She’s in love with another.”

“Kristen will always love you.”

“I wasn’t talking about Kristen, Jim.”

I didn’t know what to say. Kristen hadn’t told me anything about Will having a serious relationship with anybody except her. It was possible that Kristen didn’t know everything about Will, but that was very doubtful. All the same, something inside me told me that Will’s statement was an out and out lie. Why would Will want to lie to me?

We continued walking around until Kristen found us.

* * *

When Kristen and I found ourselves alone together for a few moments, Kristen asked me if I talked with Will.

“Yes, I did.”

“And…?”

“He’s a very lonely man, Kris.”

Kristen didn’t say anything, but nodded.

Thanksgiving meal was the feast that you would expect from a quaint New England inn for that holiday. Soup, plenty of turkey, and for the adventurous, there were desserts from a bake shop within the Inn that were guaranteed to double your weight in a single meal.

We spent the night in Sturbridge, and the next morning, Will drove us back via the “Mass Pike” into Cambridge.

Since Will needed to do a few things on Friday, Kristen took me on a tour walking down Massachusetts Avenue from Central Square (near M.I.T.) to Harvard Square (near Harvard University) and back. It was busy, being the day after Thanksgiving. There were many places to eat; cuisines that I never experienced before.

Kristen led me by the hand and we walked around the quaint little place. I saw so many things that my mind just reels when I try to remember it, but I do remember being in a huge campus bookstore that seemed to specialize in Harvard and M.I.T. paraphernalia as well as mountains of books. It was obvious that Cambridge was a bustling college town, and those two prestigious institutions were very daunting to me. In my heart, I knew that my future would probably involve music, and neither institution specialized in that particular subject, although it was possible that one or both might actually have an excellent music curriculum.

From Cambridge, we took the subway (the “T”) to the North End of Boston, where we saw Paul Revere’s house, the Old North Church, and many little Italian restaurants. My only knowledge of the North End was from a bunch of spaghetti commercials with a woman yelling “Anthony!”

Kristen and I ate lunch at a very tiny restaurant on a busy main street. We could smell garlic as soon as we entered the restaurant and we scrunched together on a tiny table for two in the corner next to the shop window.

I noticed the menu on the wall. “Most of the dishes here are calamari,” I noticed.

Kristen grinned. “Yeah,” she agreed. “That’s…”

“I know,” I interrupted. “It’s squid. I don’t think I ever ate that before.”

“They have shrimp scampi if you don’t feel like the calamari, as well as other fish,” Kristen said.

“I’ll try anything once,” I said.

“Let’s order the fried calamari appetizer first, and then decide what you want for the main meal.”

We did just that. The appetizer was huge, and the squid didn’t have much of a fishy taste. For our main meals, Kristen and I ordered calamari with white sauce over linguine, which they served to us straight off the stove in the same skillets they used to cook it!

One thing I was learning about Boston was that there was an awesome selection of seafood!

During lunch, I asked Kristen how she knew so much about Boston, and she told me that she stayed with her brother a couple of times, the last time staying a month last July. She seemed to know every place to go, and we didn’t have much time to do our exploring.

We took the “T” back to Cambridge and met Will in Harvard Square. When Kristen kissed him, Will laughed and said, “Lunch at the Catch today?”

“Of course!” Kristen giggled.

I was curious as to how Will knew where we ate. Will saw this and said, “Your bodies have absorbed nearly a pound or two of garlic. It’s quite obvious where the two of you have been!”

Kristen and I laughed at this. For dinner, we went to an Indian restaurant and I learned that I enjoyed lamb curry and tandoori chicken.

Kristen and I told Will all about our explorations of the city over dinner, and Will seemed to enjoy our stories.

After dinner, we started walking back to the apartment. When I was sure where I was in relation to everything, I said, “Excuse me, Kris. Would you mind if I take a walk around for a half hour or so?”

“By yourself?” Kristen asked.

“Yeah,” I answered. “There are some things that I need to think about alone, and I thought I’d look around the square again.”

Kristen looked at me concerned. “I guess,” she finally answered, sounding dubious.

“Maybe I’ll be an hour,” I said. “I have change, and if anything happens, I’ll phone you guys.”

“Are you sure that you know your way around, Jim?”

“Yes, Kris. I’ll stay near Massachusetts Avenue. I won’t get lost.”

Finally, Kristen said, “OK. Don’t take too long.”

There was an ulterior motive for my taking a walk. Kristen and her brother Will used to have a relationship before I came into their life, and as brother and sister, I figured the two of them should have some time alone. Whether they talked or even fucked during that time was their own business. It hadn’t been an easy decision for me to make, but I owed it to Kristen, and, somehow, to Will as well.

I also brought some money that Kristen didn’t know about. In the weeks before I left, I pestered my parents for an allowance for doing chores. Even Merry, the big money grubber of my family, stopped insisting on doing things for me, figuring that I needed money for this trip. I wanted to find something special for Kristen to let her know that I was thinking of her.

Money was the biggest obstacle between Kristen and me. She had lots of it, and I didn’t have very much. I always felt uncomfortable with Kristen paying bills at restaurants and at the mall, and Sherry’s accusation about me being only after Kristen’s money alerted me to the fact that others may think the same thing.

At the same time, money was the least important thing to me. I mean, it was nice to be able to pay for a great meal at a restaurant, but it didn’t cost a fortune to buy some ground beef and some bread to make a great hamburger. There’s an old joke that says, “You’re a musician? I didn’t know you were broke!” I more or less expected that money wouldn’t be flowing from water taps for me.

This was a very difficult situation for me. I could be forever proving myself to everybody on the earth that Kristen’s money wasn’t the reason that I loved her, and it would be fruitless. Kristen seemed to be happy with me, and I made very few demands on her, especially financial ones. I never got any vibe from Will that he harbored any such suspicions about me.

I thought about Will. He was a very handsome person, and could easily have a harem of girls if he wanted them, but I knew that he didn’t. He was completely infatuated with Kristen, and I was certain of that. I saw him look at her. There wasn’t longing in his eyes, but instead, I found wistfulness. They seemed to know each other’s moods and playfully touched each other, not as brother and sister, but something closer. I knew where their closeness came from, but for the first time since I knew of Kristen’s ongoing relationship with her brother, I found that I was no longer jealous of their relationship.

Before I met Will, I thought that I could never compete with the lifetime of affection that he shared with Kristen. When Kristen told me that their sexual relationship was more than a one-time affair, I guess I was afraid that she might leave me for him. When I met him at the airport the other day, he was everything that I was afraid he’d be: he was good looking, he showed a great sense of humor, and he was a genuinely affectionate person.

Therefore, I originally expected that Will would see me as competition for Kristen’s affections. When I met him, however, his words and attitudes did not reflect that at all. Instead of seeing me as a competitor, he really seemed to like me. This took me by surprise.

Thinking about my talk with Will the other day, I knew that Kristen and her brother needed some time alone together. I knew that neither one would ask this of me, so I decided to take the initiative and offer it to them. I’m not sure if Kristen knew my motivation, but I was very sure that Will would understand.

In my heart, I knew I could trust Kristen. She told me that she considered me a long-term relationship, and that her feelings toward her brother were different from the ones she had for me. In addition, Kristen allowed me to play around with Patty after we started going out together. I could at least let Kristen and her brother do whatever they wanted.

Although Kristen was occasionally with me when I was playing with Patty, I didn’t have any desire to be present when and if she played around with her brother. It was one thing to accept such a relationship intellectually, but I didn’t think I was ready for confronting the situation in reality.

I found a few bookshops, and spent a while checking out the titles. There were many books on psychology, but their contents seemed impenetrable to me. I didn’t see too many introductory books in the subject, unfortunately.

After an hour and a half, I found a pay phone and called Will’s apartment. Kristen answered and sounded worried. “Hello? Is this Jim?”

“Yes, love,” I answered. “I was looking at books and didn’t notice the time.” This was a white lie.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Kristen asked, still sounding worried.

I did my best to assure Kristen. “Yes, darling. I’m going to be heading back toward the apartment. I should be there in about ten minutes.”

There was a pause on the other end, and then Kristen said, “All right. Thanks for calling.” After another pause, “Oh, Will says, ‘Thank you.’”

I smiled. I knew that Will would have understood my motivations. “Tell him it wasn’t a problem. Thinking it over, I see another store that I would like to visit. It may be more like a half hour or so, all right?”

Yet another pause, and then Kristen said, quietly, “I think you are the kindest, and most understanding lover that I have ever known.”

I beamed from Kristen’s praise. I answered, “I know one just as understanding and kind, Kris.”

“I love you, Jim.”

“I know, and I love you as well. I’ll see you in a half hour.”

“OK. Thanks for calling.”

I hung up and walked over to Harvard Square and sat for a few moments to think about things. Once again, I thought about Kristen’s request that she made a month or so ago. I did turn her down, but now that I was alone, there was time for me to reconsider it. I hadn’t thought about Patty sucking me with Kristen’s tacit permission. Did this change anything?

I really wanted Kristen to be the one and only person that I would ever make love to. That meant that I would never have sexual intercourse with any other person. Wasn’t that the proper thing to do? Neither Kristen nor I would be saving our virginity for marriage. Nevertheless, wouldn’t an exclusive relationship be the next best thing?

Apparently, Kristen didn’t seem to think so. Her request seemed to indicate that she wouldn’t mind me fucking somebody else with her around.

Who would be the third person in this scenario? The three people that sprang to mind were Patty, Camille, and Sherry. In my answer to Kristen, I rejected the three of them, and I still felt the same way about Patty and Sherry. I didn’t think it would be fair to either one of them.

Camille, on the other hand, just might be the right person. I saw Camille nude on a few occasions and she once gave me an excellent hand job. I also remembered seeing her masturbate to the point of orgasm while describing a sexual fantasy. Camille was also known to have many male friends, and I was pretty sure that her friendships extended into sexual relationships as well.

I decided that the best thing would be to talk this over with Camille. It could be that Camille, for all her talking about sexual promiscuity, could be quite different in reality. I needed to see how she felt about Kristen’s request, and if she would be willing to participate in such a scenario.

Back at the apartment, I found Will and Kristen playing cards. When Kristen saw me come in, she threw her cards down, ran up to me, and planted the biggest kiss on me. “Just wait until later!” she whispered.

I smiled at my lovely Goddess, and then turned to Will and asked, “So, what are you guys playing?”

“Cribbage,” Will answered, picking up a small wooden board with some pegs on it. “Kristen skunked me last round, and if I lose this round, I’ll owe her five hundred dollars.”

“You play for money?” I asked, incredulous that anybody would play any card game against Kristen for money.

Will grinned. “What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment.”

I laughed, and Kristen just gave a “harrumph” in mock anger. “That’s about as smart as playing Monopoly against her with real money!”

Will and his sister looked at each other in amazement. “You know, Kristen, we haven’t tried that one! How many five hundred dollar bills do you have?”

Now I knew that they were having me on. I continued laughing, and Kristen invited me to play cribbage against her brother. She quietly explained the rules and the odd way they count points. We played for a few hours until Kristen called it a night.

Chapter 8—Thanksgiving and Christmas

I’ve grown a little leaner,

Grown a little colder,

Grown a little sadder,

Grown a little older.

And I need a little angel

Sitting on my shoulder,

I need a little Christmas now.

Mame Soundtrack

We Need A Little Christmas

On Saturday, Kristen had an appointment to get her hair done at a salon nearby, leaving Will and me alone. Will took me to the campus at M.I.T. From out of nowhere, Will asked me, “Do you know you have a strange aura?”

The question made me laugh, seeing as how we were walking at one of the leading intellectual campuses in the country. “I do?”

Will didn’t seem to mind me laughing. “I’ve seen your particular aura before, a few years ago, and it scared the shit out of me. Somehow, it’s different now.”

“I don’t think we met a few years ago,” I pointed out.

“You’re right.”

Will then told me about his real mother. She lived in New York City, and gave him up for adoption a week after he was born. She died just another week later, the victim of an automobile accident.

Will explained, “I’ve always felt that a part of Katie, my real mother, lives on inside me.”

“That’s a beautiful thought, Will.”

Will shrugged. “It might not be profound, but I really feel it. Sometimes, I can almost hear her giving me advice. Of course, it could very well be wishful thinking. I’m glad that my family adopted me; I don’t think I would have wanted to be an orphan in New York. My adopted family is truly wonderful. Having Katie a part of me is just like having a second mother around whenever I need her.”

I thought about living with my real father and shuddered.

Will noticed my reaction. “Kristen said that your mother remarried.”

I nodded.

“Your father was an alcoholic.”

My head turned toward Will. I never told that to Kristen. I knew that my mother didn’t talk much about my real father much either. “What makes you say that?”

Will shrugged. “That was just a hunch.”

Staring at Will, I said, quietly, “That’s the second lie you’ve told me since I’ve been here.”

We stopped walking, and intently looked at one another. Finally, Will nodded. “Yes. I have lied to you twice.”

“I know the reason for the first lie.”

Will changed the subject. “You don’t believe in auras, Jim.”

I answered truthfully. “I used to think things such as E.S.P. and all that were just foolishness. Nowadays, I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

Will smiled. “That’s a start.”

Will told me everything he knew of his real mother. Nobody ever told him anything, it seemed as if he always knew. She was a fortuneteller in Greenwich Village. She would tell fortunes simply by analyzing a person’s aura and interpolating how that person would react in a given situation.

Will added, “As I said, Jim, this may all be wishful thinking. It may be that every adopted person has some wonderful dreams about their real parents, but to me, Katie isn’t a fairy tale. She was a fortune teller and part-time prostitute.”

I didn’t have anything to say about this.

“You believe in magic,” Will pointed out.

“I might,” I agreed.

“That’s the aura I see around you: magic. I saw it once before, and my instinct was to run from it. The person with the magic was not a good person.”

I shrugged.

“You are different,” Will said. “I see in both Kristen’s aura and yours that the two of you are truly in love with one another. Her aura has changed significantly since I saw her this past summer, and it’s definitely due to your influence. I’m really happy that Kris has found true love.”

We ended up once again on Massachusetts Avenue, and found Kristen a little while later. We ate lunch at a small Cambodian restaurant. I found that I was falling in love with most ethnic cuisines; Cambodian consisted of a lot of grilled foods.

Will told me that there was another city north of Boston called Lowell with a large Cambodian population. Lowell was the birthplace of the beat poet Jack Kerouac. I made a mental note to add Lowell as a potential destination for a future visit; I didn’t think there would be many Cambodian restaurants in my hometown.

After lunch, Will left Kristen and me at the “T” station, and the two of us took the subway system into Boston to the Boston Common. Our hotel, the lavish Ritz-Carlton hotel, was a short walk away and it was as opulent as its name suggests. We were given a suite that overlooked the public gardens.

The suite also sported a lovely bathtub that Kristen insisted on using. It was the first time I saw Kristen take a bath since my birthday, as we usually loved taking showers together. On this day, Kristen helped me rediscover the lovely joys of sharing a luxurious bath with the one you loved. The bathtub was smaller than the one in Chicago, which made the experience even more intimate.

A concierge brought up our luggage (Will dropped it off earlier in the day), and after we cleaned each other in the tub extremely thoroughly, we put on robes and went to the queen sized bed.

We invented a new sex game in that room, which we called “Fifteen Minutes.” The rules were simple, each player was given fifteen minutes to fondle, caress, lick, or even fuck the other one, who could not return the favor until the time was up and the other player took his or her own fifteen minutes. The game would continue until both players were thoroughly satiated.

I let Kristen start, and she got into a sixty-nine position on top of me. She took my penis into my mouth and swallowed me deeply. Although her crotch was inches from my face, according to the rules of the game, I couldn’t lick her. I could see the glistening of her juices forming between her legs, and I could smell the heady aroma of her musk.

I decided to return Kristen’s torture in spades when her fifteen minutes were up. I told Kristen to lay down on her back. I knelt next to her on her left, and with my left hand, I started to finger her crotch. With my right hand, I started to quickly masturbate myself. Looking at Kristen’s body writhing from the assault of my left fingers soon coaxed my balls to churning intensity in about five minutes. Sure enough, I felt the contractions and pumped my seed onto Kristen’s stomach and tits.

This was also a relatively new experience for me; I rarely masturbated in front of Kristen. However, I wanted to achieve orgasm, and this was the easiest way for me.

Kristen was a bit surprised to feel the warm jets of my sperm hit her body. Almost reflexively, she moved her hand to capture the essence to which she was addicted, but I took her hand and slapped it, reminding her of the rules.

Instead, I found a small puddle on the breast closest to me, and licked at it, capturing it onto my tongue. I then bent down and kissed Kristen, depositing the bit of sperm onto her tongue.

My lovely Goddess realized I didn’t have any desire to deny her a taste of my semen, and she smiled in appreciation. I found the process of scooping up the semen to be surprisingly difficult. I used more or less the same technique that Kristen used when cleaning up a similar mess on my body, and kept kissing Kristen afterward.

After Kristen was clean, she informed me that I took two fifteen minute periods.

“Damn!” I said in mock indignation.

“I have a better idea, Jim. Let’s fuck!”

We made love, face to face with me on top. Kristen’s body was still a bit sticky from the mess I made earlier, but I didn’t care. There was a wonderful tub to clean us up again afterward, if necessary.

After we made love, Kristen took me once again in her mouth, cleaning my shaft of our combined secretions.

* * *

It was late afternoon when the two of us walked to the Common. I talked to Kristen about what Will told me earlier.

“Will’s always been into the occult,” Kristen said.

“Maybe,” I said. “But some of the things that he says seem to correspond to things that I have been thinking about.”

“Do you believe in his auras?” Kristen asked.

I answered, “Will seems to think of them as colors. He told me that his mother Katie would tell him about them, but he never really saw them until March 1970. The image of the solar eclipse that year was the missing link for him. You know how the corona seems to shoot out from behind the moon, which is blocking out most of the sun?”

Kristen nodded.

“That was the image he needed in order for what Katie told him to start making sense to him. He was looking at the people, when he discovered that he should have been looking at what was being radiated out from the people.”

Kristen looked at me. “Will never told me that.”

“He knows that I believe in magic. He says that my aura shows magic in me.”

“Do you think he means the tickets? I have found that I can never talk about them with him, and I sometimes get frustrated.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. What else could it mean?”

From the Common, we walked around the city near the hotel until dinnertime, where we found a small restaurant and ate a simple meal of hamburgers and French fries. Later on, we explored a bit more before returning to the hotel.

Kristen enjoyed watching me masturbate earlier, and she asked for a repeat performance with the exception that my aim be for her open mouth; Kristen didn’t want to have to get my semen “second hand” as she put it.

Later on, I would think of Kristen’s comment as being weird. The big argument we had last Autumn was over her tasting my semen second hand—from the crotch of another girl!

I felt a bit awkward performing this time, being able to see Kristen watching me. After a few moments, I saw Kristen start touching herself through her lingerie, which got me more in the mood. Kristen knew how excited I got seeing her clad in her naughty bras and panties.

When I reached my peak, Kristen noticed and she sprawled out on the bed, her mouth open in expectation. I moved as close as I could, and my aim was true. Just about every spurt landed on her tongue or her teeth; one errant spurt hit her lips, but a quick swipe of her tongue removed all evidence of the missed shot.

* * *

Will met us for breakfast the next morning, and I told Kristen that the two of them should go without me. I didn’t feel like eating breakfast, and wanted the two of them to have some more time alone together. Kristen kissed me warmly before she left.

The two of them arrived about an hour and a half later, and Will accompanied us via the “T” to Logan Airport.

Once again, we found our flight delayed, and the airport was packed. Kristen and I got into the First Class passenger check-in line, and we made it through the throngs to our gate.

Will offered us a drink at a lounge, and both Kristen and I went in, although we only consumed soft drinks. I was now a seasoned traveler and a member of the Mile High Club. I knew that I didn’t need the liquid courage this time. The three of us chatted, and made plans to visit again for another stay near Easter, when our school was on vacation.

When we heard our flight announced, Will said good-bye. He gave Kristen a big hug and a kiss, and then offered me his hand. Instead, I surprised both him and his sister by opening my arms and pulling him into a tight hug as well.

“I’ll miss you, Will,” I said.

Will smiled, although I could see the sparkles of tears in his eyes. “Me, too. Take care of my kid sister.”

“I will make it my life’s endeavor.”

Will and Kristen smiled at my response.

“Will?” I asked.

“Yes?”

“I wish that you find the perfect person that will make your life complete.”

Both Will and Kristen looked at me strangely, and I finally jarred Kristen enough to get into the jet way with our first class tickets.

Kristen and I were a bit tired from our trip, and we decided to spend most of the time on the jet snuggling against each other.

I overheard a flight attendant—a different one than on the last flight—mention our row number and the words “five bucks” and I smiled. This was probably a bet that she’d lose. I’d already earned my wings.

When we arrived back in Chicago, Kristen pulled out an envelope and gave it to the flight attendant before we landed. I saw her open the envelope and watched her blush. Kristen told me that she also overheard the bet, and left a note of apology and five dollars to cover her bet.

On the way out of the plane, the flight attendant tried to give the money back to Kristen but my Goddess wouldn’t accept it.

* * *

November merged into December as Christmas season came upon us. I didn’t have a lot of money of my own to spend, as I spent most of the money I had on souvenirs and gifts in Boston. In addition, there were a lot more people this year on my Christmas list.

I earned some spare cash at a nearby grocery store, helping people bring packages to their cars. I also started earning my allowance again by helping out around the house, eating into the sudden windfall that Merry was reaping while I was spending all my time with my blonde Goddess.

Of course, this new work ate into the amount of quality time that I could spend with Kristen, but I explained things to her. Although Kristen told me repeatedly that she didn’t have any problems giving me any money I wanted, I knew that she understood that it meant more if I was spending my own money.

Luckily, I didn’t have to spend very much.

Deciding on a gift for my step-father was the easiest. I found an exact duplicate of the tackle box that I remembered him checking out repeatedly at the flea market in the local sporting goods store. Since it wasn’t fishing season any longer, the tackle box was on sale; I got a hefty discount that almost rivaled what the vendor at the flea market wanted for the used one.

For my mother, I selected some old photographs from her photo albums. Some of the pictures were from when she was a child; some were from the good times of her first marriage; and some were more recent. I picked out my favorites, marking the locations in the albums so I could replace them properly, and then went to a camera shop to have my favorites reprinted at various sizes, and then enlisted Patty’s artistic help in setting up a montage of all those photographs. The result was a loving look at my mother’s life that I hoped that she would enjoy.

I found out from Toby McConnell—the trumpeter that caught Patty’s fancy—that he was pretty skilled with woodwork, and we spent a Saturday in his basement at his father’s workbench fashioning a wooden heart from a four inch two by four wood “discard.” We cut it with a coping saw and then sanded it down, and used some Minwax to dye it a medium brown. A few days after the dye was dry, we then engraved it with a wood-burning tool. Over the next week, I would stop over and we would give it a new coat of shellac after the current one dried. The result was a shiny wooden heart for Merry that said “My Favorite Shortcake” on it.

Kristen and I did some mail order shopping for presents for Patty, Camille, and Wendy. I insisted on paying, but I soon found that my tastes in lingerie were expensive, most likely due to Kristen’s influence and her occasional modeling them for me. Kristen helped me find deals that were more reasonable and used her status as a “frequent customer” to eek out a few more percentage points in deals. When the items arrived, I wrapped up the three scandalous lingerie sets for the girls as a reminder of the day that we met. Inside each present was a handwritten note, “To one of my favorite lingerie store customers.”

I knew that Patrice was fond of small dogs, so I purchased her a cute little stuffed one. Kristen helped me pick out an appropriate one. In addition, I got four new “Olympic” Frisbees of varying weights for her brother, Jack.

I arranged a special present for Toby. Of all the people in the jazz band with the possible exception of Amy, Toby seemed to work the hardest. He didn’t have the natural talent that some of the other members had. In addition, he was willing to help me out in just about any way that I asked, doing some construction work for props for our jazz concert as well as helping me out with Merry’s heart. I owned a couple of trumpets, and, after explaining to my mother, I decided to give my special silver one to him as a gift.

Another special present was for Amy. I took the original piano score that I copied for Amy and gave it to Kristen, who knew what my plan was. She wrapped it and made it a present to the piano player from the two of us.

For Sherry, I purchased a silver charm bracelet, and bought her two charms: a silver pair of pompoms and a silver megaphone.

I was mostly out of money by the time I decided on a present for Kristen. After all, what do you get for the girl that could have whatever she wanted? I talked it over with my parents, and they loaned me some money in order to have the manuscript that I used for the “Hooked on a Feeling” session earlier that year professionally bound. Patty helped me letter the first page, featuring a giant fishhook. Two sterling silver necklaces, each with a two-inch fishhook made of sterling silver, accompanied this. The custom silver work required me to do a lot of running around to be able to get the job done before the holiday.

Before the Christmas concert, Kristen and I found Amy and gave her our present of the sheet music. She looked at it, and then dug through her concert music at the piano and found the copy that I made. That song wasn’t on the schedule, and I was surprised and a bit pleased that Amy brought it with her. Amy looked between the original and the copy that I made for a couple of minutes and finally said, “Thank you. I love them both!”

As the rest of the band started to gather, I presented Toby his trumpet. A round of applause from all of the band members accompanied my presentation, since every one knew how hard Toby worked at his craft. At first, he didn’t want to take it, but we all insisted. To top it off, I presented Toby with a dozen sets of earplugs, “So your parents won’t mind it when you are practicing.” Good-natured laughter and applause accompanied my announcement.

Toby used my trumpet at the concert, and his performance was nearly flawless. I couldn’t have been any prouder of how he sounded if I played his parts myself. Amy’s piano work was markedly improved from her inauspicious start, thanks to her diligent work on the score I wrote for her, and to Kristen’s talented help. She even played a small, eight bar solo during the improv number.

At the end of our performance, we all received a long round of applause, and I startled everybody when I made an unannounced modification to our program. I signaled the letter “L” with my hands to Sam, my bass player, and Derek, who played the drum kit. I then wiggled my fingers at Amy, who looked at me confused. I then mouthed the title of the song to her, and she looked at me as if I was certifiably bonkers.

I ignored Amy’s response, and announced to the audience that there was a special encore. I then signaled to Amy. She looked at me nervously for a second, but she started the bass line when I signaled her with the baton. Sam and Derek picked up the song ”Linus and Lucy“ without missing a beat, either. The three of them practiced this song as a trio a lot during October and November, mostly as an exercise to help Amy learn the jazz riffs. Now, without any warning, I was having the three of them play it in public.

The three played admirably. I looked offstage to where my music teacher was standing. He was open-mouthed in his surprise at my featuring Amy in this way, and that she was performing flawlessly.

The encore brought another long round of applause, shared by the entire band that stood up to cheer the trio. I went back to where Amy was sitting and took her by the hand to stand up. The applause continued as I told her to take her bow. She really deserved it. I felt great as I left the stage.

Kristen met me backstage afterward. She was the only person that knew that I planned to have Amy perform that encore, and she hadn’t let Amy know.

Amy found the two of us backstage, and approached us. She looked at both of us and said, “Thank you.” Kristen moved over and hugged Amy tightly. I avoided doing the same to Amy, knowing her shyness. I was surprised when Amy looked at me and threw her arms around me in a brief hug. “Thank you so much,” she said. “I’ll keep both copies of that song with me forever.”

I was about to leave with Kristen when Mr. Proilet found me. “If I didn’t see Amy playing that song, I never would have believed it, Jim.”

I shrugged. “It wasn’t me, so much. I just figured that the song was one she’d know and would be a good introduction to the rhythm.”

“You’re showing a remarkable talent for somebody your age, Jim,” my teacher said.

“No, Mr. Proilet,” I protested. “Amy did all the hard work.” I gestured toward Kristen, next to me. “Kristen helped her as well; the two of them are close friends and Kristen is surprisingly good on the keyboard as well. I can’t take any credit, really.”

My teacher shook his head, and handed me a wrapped tube. I looked at him curiously, and he said, “Open it!”

I did. Inside was a beautiful conductor’s baton.

“Jim, I have seen a lot of conductors take credit when a performance is great, when it was the orchestra that he was directing that was doing great in spite of the conductor. You are the real thing. Maybe one or two of those students would have played as well without you, but nobody else, including myself, could have pulled off what you did tonight. I had faith in you, which is why I made you people the last set of the evening. It would have been anticlimactic for any of the other students to have followed you.”

I watched as Mr. Proilet walked away, too stunned to respond.

I looked at Kristen, trying to protest that Mr. Proilet was wrong. She anticipated this, and simply reached up and gave me a kiss that lasted a minute or so.

When the kiss ended, there was a polite smattering of applause. All my jazz band students were there, and started to pull the two of us back on stage.

I felt overwhelmed with emotion, and didn’t fully understand what was going on. I let the rest of the band drag me back on-stage, and saw that the house lights were now on. Most of the audience was still there, and almost everybody in the audience was holding up mimeographed sheets of paper on which one word was written: “OOGIE!”

I started hearing the students in the audience chant that name. I looked at Kristen and I could see in her eyes that she knew about this, and might even have been one of the architects. I gave her a quick kiss and finally accepted the applause from the audience with a small bow.

I heard the curtains descend and the students with me pulled the two of us back until we were behind the curtain. It was my first performance as a conductor, and I finally admitted to myself that I guess I did a good job, even if I received quite a lot of help from my talented band members.

* * *

Due to their schedules, it took Kristen and I some work to get Patty, Camille, and Wendy together for a holiday snack at the mall. At the food court, I made a formal presentation to the girls of their presents. They all blushed a bright red—which Kristen caught on her camera that she brought with her—when they saw what they received and read their notes.

They got me back, though. Together, the three of them handed me three notes, mimeographed copies of the handouts from the Christmas concert that read, “OOGIE!”

“Good,” I sighed. “Just about five hundred more for me to find before everybody finally forgets that nickname!”

We all had a good-natured laugh at that.

During the week before the vacation, people in the halls, even people I didn’t know, kept saying “Hi, Oogie!” to me.

Learning to like that nickname may take some doing, I thought. However, the people that called me that all smiled at me when they said it. Some people even shook my hand. After it turned out that I was now a minor school celebrity, I decided that there were worse nicknames to have, like “Stinky.”

I found Sherry in History class the day before the Christmas vacation started. I handed her my present, and she seemed shocked. She opened it, and loved the pretty charm bracelet. “Thanks, Oogie!” she said with a giggle after she opened it, right before giving me a tight hug.

* * *

I gave my family their presents on Christmas day as we opened up our gifts. My step-father was surprised at the tackle box, and my mother looked at the montage for a long time. I saw her smile in recognition of the events that she recognized in the montage. Finally, she looked up and thanked me, and I ran over and hugged her. (Later on, my mother would thank me even more when I explained that the pictures in the montage were only copies; the originals were once again safe in her albums.)

Merry hung her heart around her neck creating a makeshift necklace made of used ribbon from other presents. She came over to me and gave me a big kiss. That night, she would hang that heart using that same ribbon in her room over her bed, where it would remain for a long time.

Kristen came over at about eleven o’clock and brought gifts for everybody. She spent a bit more than I spent on her gifts, but like me, she made sure each of them was special for the person receiving it.

For my parents, Kristen gave them tickets to a charity event that her mother was sponsoring for New Year’s Eve in Chicago.

Merry received a charm bracelet from Kristen. It was similar to the one that I bought for Sherry. On Merry’s, there were four charms.

Merry puzzled over the charms for a bit. Finally, I said, “The first one is a sack of sugar.”

“OK,” Merry said, a bit confused. “That makes sense. What about the next one?”

Kristen answered, “That one I needed to order special. Those are spices. Do you see? Cinnamon sticks and an onion?”

I saw Merry work it through her head. “I see: sugar and spice. I get it.”

The third charm was actually half of a charm that originally said, “Merry Xmas.” It now just contained the first word.

Merry got it. “Hey! I’m everything nice!”

“Yup,” I answered, smiling.

Merry puzzled at the fourth one a bit, trying to make it out. “What’s this tiny one? It looks like a circle with a stick on it.”

I looked at Kristen. “Do you want to tell her?”

Kristen smiled. “That stick is a candle. It’s as close to a ‘short cake’ that Jim and I could find.”

This drew laughter from my entire family, Merry included.

Kristen had a small present for me. The foil wrapping was perfect, and unlike any of the other presents that I opened that day, I felt that I needed to be careful with the wrapping on this gift.

The wrapping revealed a box, and inside the box was a gold pocket watch. I looked at it, and then up at Kristen.

Kristen said, “Read the inscription.”

I looked on the back of the watch, and it said, in beautiful calligraphy, “For my love.” I read it a few times, and then realized that there was something hanging from the stem. It was a lovely and long braided lock of blonde hair.

I looked up at Kristen. “O Henry! That’s one of my favorites!”

Merry was confused. “The candy bar?”

Kristen and I both laughed aloud at that. I showed the watch to my parents, and they smiled in recognition of the reference.

“It’s from ‘The Gift of the Magi,’” Kristen explained to Merry.

I quoted, “’Of all who give gifts these two were the wisest.’”

Merry still didn’t get the reference. I made a mental note to see if there was a copy of that particular story in my room.

I looked under the tree and found Kristen’s presents. I gave Kristen her first gift. I watched as she carefully removed the wrapping from the gift, revealing the manuscript. “Oh, Jim!” Kristen said, full of emotion as she opened it. “It’s wonderful! I love the cover!”

I handed her the second present. Kristen opened it and found the necklaces. “Two necklaces?” she asked.

Without answering Kristen, I took one out of the box, and moved around to place it around Kristen’s neck. I then took the other one, and placed it around my neck—with a little technical help from Merry.

“There,” I explained, intertwining our two necklaces. “We’re hooked on each other.”

This earned me an almost-R-rated kiss from my favorite kisser. I imagine that this may have caused my parents, or Merry, or all of them for that matter, to blush. Neither Kristen nor I minded at all.

Our family ate our traditional turkey dinner with Kristen there as guest of honor. During the meal, Kristen and I tried to recount the O Henry story for Merry, who finally understood the meaning of Kristen’s gift. Kristen surprised everybody by reaching into her pocket book and pulling out a coin purse. She showed Merry the eighty-seven cents—with sixty-two of it in pennies! Apparently, when Kristen researches a present, she makes every effort to impress.

Kristen and I helped clean up the dishes, allowing Merry and my parents some time to sit and talk and watch TV, and also allowing Kristen and I some private time alone.

Kristen said, “I hoped you’d get the reference to O Henry.”

“Like I said, he’s one of my favorite authors!”

Kristen looked at me. “I’m also surprised you knew the quote.”

I sighed. “I’m a hopeless romantic. That also cost a bit more than twenty-one dollars! Now I wish that I thought of giving you a set of combs,” I said, smiling. “But then you would need to shave your head, and that I would never allow, my fair Goddess!”

Kristen shook her head. “I love the fishhook necklaces!”

We kissed, knowing that there was nobody watching us to be worried about the rating. (Some readers may want to avert their eyes for a few minutes here.)

Later on that evening, Kristen and I drove to her house, my parents following us in their own car, to a party that Kristen’s parents were throwing for their close friends. My parents felt honored at the invitation.

In Kristen’s mostly remodeled apartment, I received some more presents from Kristen. One of my gifts was a formal tuxedo.

“That’s the tuxedo that you’ll be wearing at our wedding,” Kristen told me.

“Hmm,” I pondered. “What if I don’t get married in that tuxedo?”

Kristen looked at me sweetly. “That’s no problem, Jim. It will then be the tuxedo you will be wearing when they bury you.”

Oh, fuck. Why did I say that? I hadn’t really meant that. I looked at Kristen; I saw a sparkle in her eyes, but behind it, I knew that she wasn’t really joking. I quickly backtracked, quietly wondering why I would blurt out such a stupid remark. “I would be happy to be married in that tuxedo, Kris.”

That earned me a grudging kiss. Afterward, Kristen pointed out the watch pocket. I smiled.

Kristen also showed me a suit with another watch pocket for me to wear for the party, and we dressed each other to make our fashionably late entrance to the Swift’s holiday party.

Kristen proudly showed everybody the necklace that I ordered for her, and told the story that went along with it (with the addiction part removed, of course). She even managed to embarrass me sufficiently by having the cassette that I made for her in her purse, and she played it for everybody at the party.

For my part, I showed everybody my gift of the Magi that I received from my lovely blonde Goddess, nicely fitting in my new watch pocket.

Being around the adults, especially wearing that suit, made me feel so much older and more mature. During the entire evening, however, I kept on yelling at myself about that stupid, stupid, stupid remark that I made about the tuxedo. I thought I was making a wisecrack, and it backfired on me. I needed to watch my mouth in the future.

* * *

I wasn’t able to spend the days after Christmas with Kristen.

Kristen went on a skiing trip to Austria. She planned this trip over a year, and since I never skied before, I decided not to go with her. The decision was even easier because I didn’t have a passport or a visa for traveling, despite Kristen’s assurances that she could have such things expedited.

Kristen offered to cancel her trip, but I told her to have a good time. I’d get to see her on New Year’s Day.

One of the gifts that I received from Kristen was a used Yamaha keyboard that Kristen bought from a friend of her brother’s who was nicknamed “Sludge.” I didn’t have an amp to plug it in, but there was a very useful quarter-inch jack into which I could plug a pair of headphones.

Kristen’s absence and the new keyboard gave me the opportunity to spend a lot of time alone in my room, hashing out chords. I remembered my desire to want to write my own music, and this was a good time for me to get started without driving my family up the wall.

My step-father and I cobbled together a stand for the instrument that used wing nuts and hinges so it could collapse easily for storage.

The electric piano had a tactile feel that was very much different from the upright piano that I normally played in the house—it was almost like an organ. However, it was very easy for me to get the hang of that. Another difference was the way the notes would blend tonally in a way that only an electric piano with an electronic sustain pedal could accomplish.

Despite having almost a week to myself, I didn’t get very far with writing my “Symphony to a Goddess.” Instead, I found myself doodling around, playing bits and pieces of songs that I fancied.

I paid a visit to the Williams’ house on Monday, and gave Patrice and Jack their presents. Patrice smiled at the stuffed puppy, and Jack seemed to appreciate the Frisbees. We promised each other that we’d make time to throw them around when the weather got warmer.

During my visit with Patrice and Jack, the doorbell rang, and Jack ran to the door. It was Doreen, and Jack brought her downstairs where Patrice and I were sitting around.

“Hi, Jim,” Doreen said as Jack brought her into the finished basement.

“Oh, hi!” I said, happy to see that Jack and Doreen were still seeing each other. “I haven’t seen you since the party.”

The four of us talked for an hour or so before I started to head out. Before I left, Doreen reached into her pocketbook, and rummaged through it and found an envelope. She handed it to me. “It’s a Christmas card from Marla.”

I looked at the card, and decided that it might be a good idea for me to open it up later. I still felt guilty about Marla; not only did I take advantage of her using the lucky tickets, but I stood her up on an informal date we made at the mall right before she needed to go back to her home in California.

“Thanks, Doreen.” I looked at the card and it contained a return address. “I see her address is on the card. Do you think she’ll mind if I write?”

Doreen looked at me for a few moments and pulled a pen out of her purse. She took the envelope and wrote a number on the back of it. I could easily see that it was Marla’s phone number. “Marla would love to hear from you.”

I thanked Doreen, and said good-bye to my friends.

Walking home, I kept staring at that envelope. Finally, I decided to open it. There was a card with a picture of Santa on it with a standard holiday greeting. Inside the card was a short note:

Dear Jim,

I don’t know if you remember me, but we met last summer. If you remember me, I would really like to hear from you again.

Ask Doreen if you need my phone number.

Love and happy holidays,

Marla

I spent the rest of the day thinking about Marla and my behavior toward her. I wasn’t very happy with myself. I couldn’t get up the nerve to ask my mother to call long distance that night, so I decided to think about writing Marla a letter.

Chapter 9—Christmas Recess and New Year 1975

There’s a feeling I get

When I look to the west,

And my spirit is crying for leaving.

In my thoughts I have seen

Rings of smoke through the trees,

And the voices of those who stand looking.

Woh oh oh oh oh oh...

And she’s buying a stairway to heaven!

Led Zeppelin

Stairway to Heaven

Late Tuesday afternoon, Merry came up to my room and asked me what I wanted for dinner. It was New Year’s Eve, and I already declined an invitation to a party at Wendy’s with Patty and Camille, mostly because my mother asked me not to go out that night. It wasn’t a difficult decision to make, since I preferred that the first girl that I kissed in 1975 would be the Goddess that would be arriving from her vacation the next day.

My parents were at a party in Chicago with Kristen’s parents. Kristen made reservations for them for a room at the same hotel that hosted the party. My parents, in return, offered to pick Kristen up the next day at O’Hare to take her home from Europe.

So, it wasn’t surprising that I found myself home alone with Merry on New Year’s Eve. Merry was a pretty good cook and made a light supper consisting of snacks, including broiled shrimp wrapped in bacon (Merry’s favorite appetizer), chicken teriyaki on skewers, and chips with sour cream dip. For dessert, we ate some chocolate ice cream and added some syrup to make sundaes. There were also a couple of six packs of Coke in the refrigerator.

Merry and I were watching television and listening to Guy Lombardo and His Royal Canadians surgically remove any semblance of jazz from the song April in Paris live from the Waldorf-Astoria in New York. I was thinking to myself how funny it would be if Count Basie actually showed up with a few guys to put Guy’s conductor’s stick into a more appropriate place. I didn’t know it at the time, but this would be one of his last New Year’s Eve performances before his death a couple of years later.

Merry looked bored.

“What’s up, Shortcake?” I asked.

“This music sucks.”

I laughed. “You have a wonderful taste in music, kid. You can look at the other channels. I think Wolf Man Jack may have a Midnight Special on NBC, if you like his kind of rock and roll.”

Instead of laughing, Merry turned on me. “I’m not a kid!”

“Whoa, Merry! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply…”

“You treat me as if I were a kid,” Merry said. “Like that guy Fonzie on ’Happy Days.’ He even calls Joanie ‘Shortcake.’”

I corrected my step-sister. “I heard him say that, and it surprised me when I first heard it. You should know that he calls her ‘Short Cakes.’ I know—I listened. He always uses it plural, and I have no fucking idea what he means by it.”

That last part was a bit of a lie. At the time, I suspected that the plural term might be a reference to Joanie’s prepubescent breasts and considered it to be a cruel insult. My suspicion changed over time as the series continued, though.

“So, what do you mean by it?” Merry asked, not entirely convinced.

I looked at my step-sister. I wondered what was bothering her. “It’s just a pet name. Like when I call Kristen ‘Kris’ or Camille ‘Cammy.’ It’s nothing different. I can’t call you ‘Mer,’ can I? I’d sound like that guy on the Mary Tyler Moore show. You know, ‘Hi, Mar…’” I tried to do an acceptable Ted Baxter impression, although my voice was nowhere near as deep as his.

Merry didn’t seem amused at my attempt at humor, and she finally said, sulking, “I guess not.”

Neither one of us spoke for a few more minutes, until Merry suddenly blurted out, “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“You and I could be at Wendy’s house. We were both invited.”

“Who told you that?” I asked.

“I heard you on the phone.”

“Shit! Have you been listening on the phone again?”

“No, you jerk,” Merry answered, haughtily. “I heard you talking when I walked into the den yesterday. I wasn’t on the fucking phone!”

“Sorry, Merry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to accuse you. By the way, your dad would kill you if he heard you use the F-word.”

“You use it all the time, and you’re changing the subject,” Merry pointed out. “We were invited and you said, ‘No.’”

I nodded, and then said, quietly, “I’m not sure about your dad, but I know for a fact that Mom wouldn’t have allowed it. Think about it, Short—… Merry… We’d be at a party. People will be drinking. I don’t drive, and neither do you. We’d need somebody to take us home…”

“But…”

“Please hear me out, Merry,” I said, not wanting to let her interrupt me. “The girls can sleep over if they want to do so. They don’t have to go out on the road. In addition, it’s not just them. There will be plenty of other people drinking and driving tonight. Everybody will be having champagne at midnight. That’s why Mom and your dad are staying overnight in Chicago.”

“You make it sound…”

“Merry, my own fucking father was a fucking drunk!” I said, my voice raised with those words that were fueled by my emotions. “I know what it’s like. He nearly killed Mom and me and God knows how many other people on more than one occasion when he insisted on driving. He did get into accidents, you know! He’d always say it was somebody else’s fault, but we knew. I don’t ever want to be in that situation again, and I don’t want to hear about anything like that happening to you. I love you too much!”

Merry was silent for a long moment.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Merry said, softly.

“I’m sorry, too, kid,” I said, lowering my voice. “I mean, Merry. I didn’t mean to yell at you that way. It’s just a sore subject.”

“I… I knew about your father and that your mom left him because he drank. I didn’t know much more, though.”

This was getting into an emotional scene. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Shortcake,” Merry said.

“Huh?”

“You can call me Shortcake.”

I moved closer to my step-sister and pulled her into a long hug. “I love you, Shortcake.”

“You don’t talk about your father much,” Merry observed.

“I don’t like the man. He drank and he did other bad things. His name was James, and that’s why I hate it when people call me that.”

Merry nodded. “I heard he hit you and your mother.”

“Yeah,” I answered. “He wasn’t a nice person. I mean… sometimes, he could be this wonderful person, and it was easy to see why Mom married him. At other times, he was drunk and ugly and a big fucking bully. He sort of turned me off fathers.”

“He’s your father,” Merry said. “You might feel different if he were gone. Like my mom.”

I hugged Merry harder. “I know about your mom, and it must be hard. I cannot think of how difficult it would be for Mom to pass away like that. I’m glad your dad and Mom found each other. They both seem very happy.”

Merry hugged me back, but didn’t answer.

We went back to watching Guy Lombardo in silence.

We watched the ball descend on Times Square in relative silence. It was still an hour to midnight where we were in the Midwest, so it didn’t mean much to us, except to watch people make fools of themselves on the streets of New York.

“What is the significance of the ball?” Merry asked.

I shrugged. “Beats the fuck out of me!”

Merry laughed. “You used the F-word!”

“Fuckin-A right!”

Merry giggled.

During a commercial about a half hour before midnight, Merry said, “Jim?”

“Yes?”

“You said you love me.”

“I do.”

“Will you kiss me at midnight?”

I didn’t need really to think to answer this one. “Of course.” I loved that little girl—who was quickly becoming a woman—something fierce. Unlike most brothers and sisters that I knew, we hardly ever fought. Even, like tonight, when we disagreed, we easily saw each other’s side of things and were willing to cut the each other slack. I think it may have been because we didn’t grow up all our lives with one another, and we each secretly hoped for a little sister or bigger brother and finally got our wishes.

Merry turned back to watch television. About five minutes later, she started up again. “Jim?”

“Yes?”

“I love you, too. I’m glad your mom married Dad. He wasn’t really happy after my Mom’s illness. I mean, he tried to put on a happy face when he was with me, but I could still tell. He was lonely, and… and…” Her voice died off.

This was getting very emotional for me. “Not only is Mom and your dad happy, but I finally have a kid sister that I can pick on.” I playfully gave Merry a punch on her arm without putting a single ounce of energy behind it.

Merry didn’t answer me, and I knew better than to push the conversation much further.

I looked at my step-sister. Her eyes looked as though they were ready to break out in tears. I finally couldn’t stand it. “What’s wrong, Merry?”

“I’m really sorry about before,” Merry said slowly. “I just thought going to a party would be fun. I didn’t think…”

“It might have been fun,” I agreed. “But you know that I did make Mom a promise that I wouldn’t be out on the road tonight. I promised her I’d stay home with you.”

“Do you miss Kristen?”

Merry had a silly way of changing the subject quickly. “Yes. I miss her very much.”

“The two of you make a nice couple.”

“Thank you, Merry. What brings that up?”

Merry shrugged. “I was wondering what it would be like to have a boyfriend.”

This was getting interesting. I looked at my step-sister and asked, “Do you have anybody special in mind?”

Merry shook her head no, but the blush on her face told me otherwise.

“Any boy would be lucky to have a wonderful girl like you,” I assured her.

Merry didn’t answer, and pretended to watch the television. Again, I figured that it was wisest not to pursue this conversation any further.

The local station was showing New Year’s celebrations that were happening closer to home than New York City. There were a few parties shown live in Chicago when I noticed the ballroom of the hotel where our parents were. Merry and I both moved closer to the television and squinted and looked around to see if we could find our parents, but we were unsuccessful. The scene was crowded, there was a reporter superimposed over the scene, and there were also subtitles indicating the name of the hotel. It was a frustrating minute and a half for Merry and me, but it got our minds off our recent conversations. I think I noticed Kristen’s parents, but I couldn’t be sure.

A countdown to midnight started about a minute before midnight, and Merry and I waited for the start of the new year together. Merry would steal a glance at me, and I pretended not to notice.

At midnight, Merry and I kissed.

The kiss wasn’t the chaste kiss that I expected. I was surprised to feel Merry’s tongue squirm at my lips, which parted automatically before I realized that I was kissing my own step-sister. I opened my eyes in surprise, and saw Merry’s eyes still closed. I decided to allow her this special kiss… our first one for 1975. I moved my tongue into Merry’s mouth in response, and our kiss lasted almost a minute.

When our lips parted, I saw that Merry was breathing quite heavy. “Thank you, Jim,” Merry said, and then she sprinted upstairs.

I realized that the kiss left me with a small erection. I briefly considered taking care of it, but I remembered that I made a bit of a promise to myself to save my sperm for the lovely blonde Goddess that was due to arrive in just half a day. I knew that when I went a day or so without Kristen, my production of semen seemed to increase. I was hoping that a week without any sexual activity would give Kristen a special “bonus.”

Smiling at the thought that I would be seeing the lovely Kristen soon, I turned off the television and was about to go upstairs when the telephone rang.

I figured that it was my parents, making sure that Merry and I were both safe and secure in our home and I cheerfully answered, “Happy New Year!”

“Hi, Lover!”

It was Kristen! I smiled, even though Kristen couldn’t see me. “Hey, Kris! Where are you?”

“At the lobby of a hotel here in New York. Times Square was a riot!”

“You were at Times Square? There were pictures on TV. I didn’t notice you in the crowds.”

“About fifty million other tourists were here also!” Kristen exaggerated.

I laughed. “Happy New Year, Kristen!”

“Is Patty with you?”

That was a strange question. “No. Just Merry and me. I was Merry’s first kiss of the new year.”

“Way to go, stud!”

I figured that I would tell Kristen the entire story later. “Want to speak to Shortcake?”

“No,” Kristen replied. “I can talk with her later. I just wanted to hear your voice again. I miss you something fierce.”

“I miss you, too,” I assured Kristen.

“Happy new year, Jim! Give my love to Merry!”

“All right.”

As I hung up the phone, I smiled. One thing that I loved about 1974 was that it was the year that Kristen and I started going together. It was a year that was now forever stamped indelibly in my memory. I felt a bit of sadness that the year was over, but 1975 was starting off very nicely for me.

In retrospect, one of the things that didn’t occur to me at that moment was that 1974 was also the year that I found the Lucky Tickets.

I turned out the light in the hallway, and noticed that the lights were already out in Merry’s room. I walked quietly past her door when I heard noises inside Merry’s room. I froze, not knowing why I was being so quiet, when I realized that I recognized those noises. They were the same sounds that Kristen sometimes makes when we play around together.

I blushed in the darkness when I made that realization. Merry was really growing up. I wondered what lucky boy was the object of Merry’s passionate dreams. I started to tiptoe toward my own room when I heard Merry murmur, “Jim! Jim!” and then a cry that was suddenly smothered, as if Merry pulled a pillow over her face.

My mind fantasized Merry’s lovely nude body racked in orgasm as I continued into my room.

My erection, which started when Merry kissed me, was now as hard as steel. It wasn’t lost on me that Merry called out my name before reaching her orgasm. Yes, my name is a common one, but somehow, I knew from our earlier conversation that it most likely wasn’t anybody else.

Despite the fact that Merry was young and was also my step-sister, my mind didn’t have a problem conjuring up an image of her in bed, writhing in ecstasy, with her fingers between her legs. I saw a few girls masturbate in front of me, most recently Kristen, who actually seemed to get a thrill of seeing my dick get hard as she tantalized herself in a lewd manner, and the image of Kristen’s wanton behavior morphed into Merry and her still not quite completely developed body.

It wasn’t easy for me to not relieve the pressure. I heard a few more faint cries from Merry’s room, which only added to my torment. It took a while before I fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

When I woke up, I found myself thinking of Merry once again. I didn’t know if I should tell Kristen about what Merry did. After all, Merry was entitled to her privacy. I did know that if Merry harbored a secret desire for me, then I’d have to act carefully.

If Kristen knew about Merry’s desire, how would she react? Kristen was a jealous person, and revealing Merry’s apparent infatuation with me could just set her off, but that was doubtful. Kristen seemed to love my sister almost as much as I did. In addition, I knew that Kristen never seemed to complain about the sexual relationship I shared with Patty, which started before I knew Kristen and lasted well into our relationship; Kristen even joined Patty on a few occasions. Kristen had a sexual relationship with her adopted brother, so she might understand it with Merry and me.

However, there was one thing that was different. There was no fucking way that a relationship between Merry and myself would ever happen. I didn’t love Merry that way, nor would I take advantage of her obvious crush on me.

I decided to watch Merry for a while and see if I could fix this up, if necessary, on my own. Like I promised myself with my mother, those damned tickets wouldn’t be the way I’d deal with Merry, either.

* * *

My parents arrived with Kristen at about two o’clock. They gushed about the room, actually a suite, that Kristen provided for them at the hotel.

Kristen brought some souvenirs and gifts back with her from Innsbruck, where she stayed, and there were gifts for everybody. She gave my parents a lovely cuckoo clock, and she gave Merry a matched set of earrings, necklace and ring made from Austrian crystal. The only person that seemed to be forgotten was me. Kristen didn’t have anything for me in her bag of presents.

I invited Kristen upstairs, and she immediately accepted. Once in my room, she undid my pants with a hungry look on her face. I was already hard, and she knelt down and licked my shaft. Kristen swooned and then, to my surprise, she started pulling my boxer shorts back up.

“I needed that,” Kristen said. “I found a candy shop in Innsbruck that made me some peanut clusters, but they’ll never taste as good to me as you do. The important thing is that I don’t want to make love to you because I need to; I prefer doing it because I want to, and I would like to do it later, all right?”

This was one of the rare times that Kristen left me high and dry. After hearing her explanation, I didn’t mind very much, although my dick was lodging a number of complaints.

“I have a present for you, but I would like to wait to show it to you. All right?”

I smiled. Of course Kristen didn’t forget me! “Whatever you wish, my dear Goddess!”

Kristen actually swooned, and then rushed over to me and kissed me. She pushed me onto my bed and started to dry hump me. Kristen, for her part, didn’t seem to be wearing any sort of lingerie. I didn’t feel any bra straps underneath her dress. The thought of her traveling from Chicago with my parents without wearing panties or a bra made me a bit hornier.

Kristen and I kissed for about five minutes, during which time my observation of Kristen’s lack of underwear was confirmed, and my dick’s ever-rigid condition was strained to the taxing point.

After we finally broke our kiss, Kristen whispered to me, “Jim, as much as I love the taste of your cock and your sperm, I love just kissing you just as much and even more! Your wish never did that me, darling!”

Kristen’s comment actually brought tears to my eyes. As much as I wanted to think that Kristen truly loved me, I always questioned how much her love was based on her need for my cock. “I truly love you, dear,” I whispered back, turning my head so that she couldn’t see the emotions on my face.

Kristen got up off the bed and started to straighten out her dress. I turned around and found something to wipe my eyes. I made a feeble excuse and hurried into the bathroom to clean my face a bit better.

As Kristen and I came down the hallway to rejoin the people downstairs, we met my mother coming upstairs. “Kristen, there’s a limousine in the driveway, and Harry from your house is at the front door.”

“That’s our ride!” Kristen said. “May I bring Jim to my house? I promise to have him in bed by ten!”

Inwardly I snickered. Kristen’s promise wasn’t that I’d be home at any time, actually.

My mother smiled and I wondered if she got Kristen’s joke. “You already asked in the car, Kris. Of course he can go. He can even stay overnight if he wants.”

“Really?” I asked, a bit surprised. My mother didn’t usually allow me to sleep over on a school night.

“Of course, Jim. You should bring your books, though, so you don’t have to stop by tomorrow morning for them.”

“Oh!” I said. “Great idea.”

I hurried back to my room and retrieved my attaché case.

As we got back downstairs, Merry was in the living room. Kristen went over to Merry and asked, “So, how was your new year?”

Merry smiled at Kristen and said, “Jim doesn’t think much of Guy Lombardo’s music, and I agree with him about that. We kissed at midnight. Some day, my New Year’s kiss will be from my boyfriend!”

“Let’s hope that day waits a few years, Sugar,” my step-father said. As I indicated before, he was very protective of Merry.

Merry looked at her father, ran, and gave him a hug. “I’ll always be your little girl, Daddy, but I am growing up.”

I glanced at my mother, who looked amused at Merry’s outburst. I walked over to her and kissed her as well. “I’ll try not to grow up too fast, either,” I whispered to her.

“I’m not worried about you growing up anymore, Jim,” my mother answered quietly. That one comment meant an awful lot to me.

Kristen and I bade farewell to my family as I helped Kristen with her bags. Harry was waiting for us in the foyer, and insisted on taking the bags that Kristen was holding, not taking “no” for an answer. He led us to Kristen’s father’s limousine, and he opened the spacious trunk where we deposited Kristen’s bags.

Harry then opened a side door for the two of us, and I followed Kristen into the limousine. Harry closed the door behind us, and after he entered the driver’s door, Kristen said, conversationally, “Jim and I are going to make out back here. Signal me when we’re at the gate. Take the scenic route, Harry.”

“Yes, Miss Kristen,” Harry said, cheerfully, raising the “privacy window” between the front seat and where we were.

I was surprised that Kristen would tell somebody so matter of factly that we were going to “make out.”

Kristen giggled. “You look shocked, Jim!”

“I wasn’t expecting you to tell Harry that,” I admitted.

“It’s not as if people don’t know, Jim.”

“I guess…” I answered, still a bit confused.

“Oh, come over and kiss me before I rape you!”

“Yes, Miss Kristen,” I said, trying to imitate Harry’s voice.

“You clown!” Kristen laughed, before I muffled her mouth with mine.

Kristen unzipped my jeans and pulled my cock out of my boxers. I expected her to start sucking me, but she instead just gave me a slow hand job. I returned the favor by stroking her wet slit while our tongues wrestled together.

I was worried that my oversensitive penis would explode. Kristen’s manipulations definitely seemed to be designed to get me excited, but did so without having me go overboard.

Twenty minutes later, a chime signaled our arrival at the gate to Kristen’s house. Kristen let go of my penis and pressed a button near the window. “Harry, can you take us to the main house, and drop off my bags at my apartment?”

“Of course, Miss Kristen.”

I was surprised, as I thought that Kristen wanted to make love. I started to zip up my jeans, but Kristen just shook her head. “We’re going to the Solarium.”

“Oh,” I said, finally understanding Kristen’s intentions. We were heading for the pool, or the hot tub.

“Get naked. Harry will bring your clothes later.”

“You sure?” I asked.

“Positive.”

“OK,” I said, just a bit doubtfully. Kristen sometimes had her kinks, but I was certainly willing to play along.

The limo stopped, and the door opened. A completely nude Kristen exited the car, not bothering to hide her nakedness. Harry didn’t seem to stare, and Kristen’s nudity didn’t seem to faze Harry at all. I was a bit more modest, but Harry didn’t seem to mind my nakedness or my raging erection, either. I followed Kristen into her house. We went straight to the Solarium. I thought I heard voices and was a bit surprised when I heard a couple of female voices shout, “Welcome back!”

Patty and Camille were in the swimming pool, frolicking around.

I was shocked to say the least! I didn’t expect any company, although Kristen definitely seemed to have this planned. I felt a bit shy being naked in front of these girls, not having been part of a pool party since my birthday party a few months previous. In addition, to my consternation, my dick, which Kristen managed to get into a rather hard state in the car, started to grow even more, if that were even possible.

“I can see Jim’s enjoying the party!” Camille quipped, causing Patty and Kristen to giggle. Since the girls were in the pool, I couldn’t get a good glimpse of their bodies, but I saw both of them nude before.

“Just jump into the pool, lover,” Kristen said softly to me. “Don’t get embarrassed. I plan on using that later on.”

“I didn’t expect this…”

“I planned this with Patty before I left. I hope you don’t mind.”

I shrugged. “If you don’t mind me playing with nude women, I’m not going to mind.”

I held Kristen’s hand and the two of us jumped together into the pool. The coolness of the water helped my hardened condition some, but not very much. Patty swam over to me and gave me a big kiss on the lips. “Happy New Year, Jim!”

I hugged Patty, feeling her warm body squirm against mine. I looked over to Kristen, who was hugging Camille similarly. For some reason, seeing Kristen squirming against Camille seemed even more erotic than having Patty’s breasts pressing into me.

My dick started to grow against Patty. Patty noticed my state, and kissed me. “You seem to enjoy seeing them two hugging, Jim,” Patty whispered.

“It’s not something that I see every day.”

“Enjoy it, then.” Patty then kissed me again, slipping me her tongue. I tore my eyes from watching Kristen and the two other girls hugging and rubbing against each other, and closed them for the kiss. I felt Patty’s hard nipples press against me, and I focused my mind on Patty.

We kissed for over a minute, our tongues intertwining, until Patty suddenly broke it off, swimming away, leaving me just about as hard as I was right before I entered the pool. I opened my eyes and was face to face with Kristen, who giggled and kissed me. I wondered if Patty and I went too far, but there was no animosity at all in Kristen’s eyes. I kissed Kristen back, and we enjoyed each other.

I eventually opened my eyes, and Kristen pulled away from the kiss just as I did so. She was treading water in front of me. The other two girls moved over to the other end of the pool.

“Jim, I would like to talk with you in private.”

“Sure, Kris. What’s up?”

“Remember what I asked you a few months ago?”

Kristen asked me many things over the months, but somehow I knew immediately what she was referring to. I remember her one request that once became a source of irritation between the two of us, and I really hoped that this wasn’t that request.

Seeing my confused look, Kristen whispered, “Remember when I asked you to let me suck your sperm from another girl’s pussy?”

Oh, shit. “Yeah. I remember,” I said, a bit stiffly.

“Well, before I left for Austria, I told Patty about it, and how we got into our first big fight over it. Last night, after I called you, I called Patty, who was over Wendy’s house with Camille. She told me that she would be willing to do it with us as long as it didn’t affect our friendship. We decided this pool party would be a good way to break the ice.”

I looked over to the two girls at the other end of the pool and then at Kristen in disbelief. “You told them about our sex life?”

“No,” Kristen assured me. “I just told Patty about my fantasy. She has my permission to talk about it with Camille, who is still Patty’s best friend. Camille and Patty figured out that it probably was something to do with that fight we had.”

This news was all too much to me. I was just getting a bit adjusted to two additional nude females in the pool after a sexual drought of a week, and now my girlfriend was telling me that she wanted to arrange a threesome or maybe even a foursome for me.

Kristen waited for me to reply, and a whole bunch of thoughts and emotions coursed through my head.

Finally, I said, “I wish you gave me more time to think about this.”

“It’s been two months, Jim,” Kristen pointed out. “I’ve kept it on hold, and I can still wait as long as you want. I’m also willing to do anything that you would like.”

“Like what?” I asked, confused. The only thing I ever wanted out of my relationship with Kristen was Kristen herself.

“Whatever you want, Jim,” Kristen replied. “You don’t need to tell me right now. If you ever get any wild fantasy, let me know and I’ll bring it to life for you. Would you like to be a sultan with a harem of a hundred naked girls? I’ll figure out how to do it.”

I thought of various fantasies that I had over the years, but most of them nowadays revolved around Kristen. Yes, I’ve dreamed of cheerleaders, but I figured that most of them were based on my experience with Sherry’s initiation. I freely admitted to myself that I really enjoyed it when the girls all heaped kisses on me.

Kristen was a wonderful girl, and she was creative in bed. What more could a guy want?

“I don’t know, Kristen. Is this very important to you? Eating my sperm from another girl sounds… almost lesbian, you know?”

Kristen smiled. “I am definitely not a lesbian. That delicious snake you have between your legs is too dazzling for me. However, it’s not an either/or situation, Jim. My brother is bisexual, you know. Maybe I’m a little like that. I love you, and I love you madly. I just sometimes wonder what it would be like…”

“Let me think about it, Kris. I won’t make the same mistake I made a few months ago and say, ‘No.’ At the same time, I would like to think long and hard about it.”

Kristen’s hand was encircling my cock as I said that. “I can see you are thinking, and you are long and hard about it,” she smirked.

I didn’t answer Kristen, feeling a bit hurt that she would consider my feelings so lightly.

Finally, Kristen said, “Oh, Oogie, I was just kidding with you. Your answer will mean more to me if you think about it… and I love you more than air, no matter what you decide. I don’t want this to become a point of friction between us.”

I still didn’t answer Kristen, not knowing what to say.

Kristen decided that talking wasn’t getting her anywhere. She decided to give me another one of her cock-raising kisses. When she broke it off, she held her breath and went underwater. Soon, her lips were wrapped around my shaft as she swallowed my cock whole.

I looked over to the other girls. Neither one seemed to be looking at our end of the pool. They were talking to each other, sitting on the floor at the shallow end. Camille’s tits were above the surface, the Patty’s breasts were underwater. Patty turned toward me and winked at me and I smiled back at her, thinking about how Kristen was actually giving me permission to really fuck her.

My thoughts quickly returned to the engulfing lips moving up and down my prick. Kristen and her arms were on my thighs, using them to pull her head up and down.

Kristen then shot up from the bottom, getting about two feet out of the water before starting to descend. She was now holding my shoulders as she slowed her descent until she was impaled entirely on my penis.

The two of us were once again face to face. “This feels more comfortable. I don’t have to hold my breath,” Kristen said.

I smiled, finally feeling the inside of Kristen’s perfect body.

“Do you think I’m bi?” Kristen asked.

“Huh?”

“You know what I asked.”

“Uh, maybe… I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I’m not an expert on that.”

“Will said he wouldn’t be surprised,” Kristen answered. “He also asked me if you ever indicated any desires for me to be with another girl. He seemed surprised when I told him about our argument.”

“Surprised?” I asked, feeling a bit frustrated. I was inside Kristen, but she made no motions of moving, and when I moved my penis, she moved her body with it, preventing me from actually fucking her while keeping me inside.

“Yeah. It’s as if he knows about the tickets,” Kristen said. “When I told him about my fantasy, he thought maybe it was your fantasy that you wanted me to act out. That’s why he was surprised when I told him you disagreed.”

“That’s interesting.”

“I know you didn’t give me a ticket and force that fantasy,” Kristen said. “I dreamed about something like that after Will left—before I even met you.”

“Oh?”

“And the fantasy took on a whole new dimension when you…” Kristen let the thought dangle.

“When I made you addicted to my semen,” I finished.

Kristen gave me a sweet little kiss. “I’ve already forgiven you for that.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better about it. If I could possibly ever undo that fucking wish, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Kristen kissed me again. “It makes you mine, though. I think you may have originally intended that wish to make me yours, but it’s worked out the other way.”

“Huh?”

“As long as I have that addiction, that dick won’t be too far from me. You’re mine, buddy.”

Kristen pushed herself up from my shoulders, dislodging me cock from her cunt. She then went underwater again and started sucking my cock again.

After a minute, Kristen came back up for air. “Thank you for at least considering my fantasy. It doesn’t have to be today, you know.”

“You know I’ll do anything for you, Princess. I just want some time to think it over.”

“Princess?” Kristen asked in mock indignation. “Did I get demoted from Goddess?”

“No. It just popped into my head.”

“Daddy calls me that, you know.”

“Oh.”

“You can call me what you want. I’ll be your Goddess, your Princess, your whore, your slut… whatever you want me to be.”

“I want you to be Kristen, my fair Goddess.”

This earned me another tiny kiss. “If you want to have Patty or Camille or anybody else, just let me know. The only thing is that they have to obey my ground rules.”

“Your ground rules?” I asked.

“Yup. The big one is that you continue to love me as much as you do right now. If anything would make you respect me less, or stop loving me, I would want you to avoid doing it. If you feel like sleeping with Patty every morning and Camille every night, I just want you to give me some time in between and let me know that you’re still mine. As I said, you’re mine, and I don’t want anything to endanger it. You got that?”

Kristen’s face was serious. She was actually giving me permission to screw other girls!

“Oh yes, Jim,” Kristen added. “One other thing. I want your first load today, whether or not you do anything with any other girl. I’m hungry for it, and I’ve been dreaming about this for almost a week.”

I had been waiting to get off since I got into the car. “In the water?”

“If you want,” Kristen smiled. “In the hot tub, if you’d prefer. In the changing room, if you want privacy. I’ll even fuck you on one of the lounge chairs in front of the other girls if you want to do that. I just get your first load.”

I didn’t think I’d be able to fuck Kristen in front of a crowd, even Patty and Camille who have seen me naked before. “I’d rather go in the changing room.”

“Sure thing,” Kristen said. She turned and swam to the ladder, getting out of the pool. I swam behind her, and admired her round ass as she got out of the water. I looked at the other end of the pool, and both girls watched me exit the pool, my dick still standing rigidly at attention.

I felt a bit uneasy as I walked behind Kristen, my dick bouncing as I took each step. Kristen opened the door to the changing room and led me inside.

There were piles of towels on tables in the changing room, and Kristen took a few and laid them on the floor. She then knelt on the pile and took my penis into her mouth.

Kristen milked my dick using long, slow moves that made my balls ache after just a few strokes. I felt the tip touch her throat as she swallowed me completely, sucking for the nectar that she actually craved. After a few moments, she pulled her head back until the tip of my cock was almost completely out, and I could feel her tongue lash back and forth as her face slowly started its return trip.

After a couple of minutes of this, I felt that sensation that I was waiting for… my release felt like it was about to explode.

Kristen took my dick mostly out of her mouth so that just the head was inside her mouth when I erupted, spurting my semen into her waiting mouth. Again and again I continued to pump more of my seed, surprising both Kristen and myself by the amount of fluid that I was emitting.

In fact, Kristen actually swallowed to allow the last few spurts into her mouth, something that she almost never does, since she likes to play with my semen in her mouth for a minute or so after I come, prolonging the amount of time she has with her special treat.

After a final spurt, I felt Kristen’s suction try to pull even more of my delicious fluid from my balls. I could feel my balls wearily try to accommodate her to little avail.

Finally, she pulled her face off my cock and kissed me, sharing the little fluid that remained with me.

I sat down on the towels pulling Kristen closer to me. I continued kissing her while the two of us lay on the towels, each of us sucking the other’s tongue into our mouths.

After a few minutes of this, I fell asleep.

* * *

I awoke and felt somebody sucking me while another person was kissing me. When I opened my eyes, I could see Patty was the person kissing me. I couldn’t see who was sucking me, but since I didn’t feel any hands on my cock, I could only conclude that my fellatrix was most likely Kristen. My cock started to harden under her ministrations, and it was then engulfed completely into her throat, confirming Kristen’s identity for me, as she was the only person that I knew who could swallow my dick into her throat.

Pulling away from Patty, I whispered, “This is like old times, Patty.”

Patty smiled at me in response, and said, “Kris told me you passed out. I thought I’d surprise you by having me kissing you when you awoke, and when you started to stir, Kris started sucking you. You don’t mind, do you?”

“I love kissing you, Patty,” I answered. “I just don’t want to get between you and Toby.”

“Toby and I broke it off right before Christmas,” Patty whispered. “He’s going to be going to California for college, and I’m going to be staying here. There really wasn’t any future for us, although we’re still very close friends.”

“That’s too bad,” I said. If anybody deserved a mate for life, it was Patty. Life dealt her a rather harsh hand, and she was one of the nicest people that I knew. She was caring, and seemed to know precisely the nicest thing to do for somebody at the perfect moment.

“Don’t feel too bad for me,” Patty whispered back. She glanced down to watch Kristen sucking me. “I think the two of you really deserve each other. You two are so much in love.”

Patty’s words sounded odd to me. It opened up those seeds of doubt that I sometimes had, especially when I thought back about Marla, Patrice, and even Merry and how I took advantage of them. I even hurt my beloved Kristen, turning her into a cock addict.

Patty saw the doubt in my eyes. “You don’t know how wonderful you are, Jim. If you said, ‘Fuck me,’ I know that I, Camille, and definitely Sherry would do so in a minute.”

“Sherry?” I asked, remembering what Kristen said that Patty indicated that she would be a bad idea.

“Especially Sherry. She’s had a crush on you for a long time.”

I almost forgot about Sherry’s crush on me. Nowadays, we got along famously well, confiding in each other. It was difficult to remember the vamp that tried to seduce me in an attempt to have her cousin Dale get even with Kristen only a few months ago. Sherry seemed to have changed quite a bit, in fact.

I nodded in reluctant agreement to Patty. “I remember. She’s changed a lot.”

“She’s still hopelessly in love with you, Jim,” Patty said. “She has your friendship, and she’s happy for that right now. If you did make love to her, she’d probably never make love to another person ever again.”

“Oh?” I was surprised by that observation.

“Cammy and I still talk. Sherry is Camille’s friend, and I’ve talked with her a few times. Every time your name gets mentioned when you’re not around, Sherry’s eyes get misty. You’re the love that will probably always be unrequited.”

“Another relationship that I’ve managed to fuck up,” I said bitterly.

“No,” Patty said, a bit louder than the whisper that she used previously. “Sherry’s made her own predicament. Cammy is urging her to try other boys, and she has lots of opportunity now that she’s on the varsity squad. It will be difficult for her to make that first step, but when she does, it will help. The only thing you can fuck up is if you make her feel you love her… in a romantic way. Love her as a friend, Jim, but beware of any romantic entanglements with her.”

I nodded, and hugged my lovely and insightful friend.

There was a warm-up suit for me in the changing room, and Patty and Kristen insisted that they were going to dress me and for me to stop getting in their way.

I obliged, and got my revenge when I insisted on dressing Kristen and Patty both in terry robes that hung in the closet.

All three of us were “decent” as we emerged from the changing room. Camille also wore a robe.

The porch’s screens were replaced by glass panels due to the fact that it was winter in the Midwest. The grill was also set back into an alcove that included a chimney above that somehow allowed the fumes from the gas stove to escape without bringing in cold air.

I could see the distortions caused by the heat waves over the grill, which told me that the grill was on. I couldn’t smell what was cooking and I looked questioningly at Kristen.

“You’re the chef today, Oogie!”

That nickname earned me a snicker from the two other girls. “Are your parents joining us?”

“Dad’s still in Chicago,” Kristen replied. “He has a flight to Los Angeles later on, and Mom won’t be home until late.”

“Just us and Harry?” I asked.

“Just us and you,” Kristen corrected me.

“Huh?”

Kristen smiled. “Harry’s off for the day. It’s a holiday, remember? He just came over to drive me home. He put away my bags and I gave him the rest of the day off.”

“Oh.”

I thought about my cooking repertoire. It was rather limited. I could cook hamburgers if you wanted them well done, or hot dogs if you didn’t mind them burned. I shrugged at Kristen.

“How about Italian sausage grinders?” Kristen suggested.

“Yum!” Camille said. “That’s an idea!”

“I never cooked sausage before,” I warned Kristen.

“Hot dogs are sausages,” Kristen pointed out. “Besides, you have three ladies that would enjoy helping you if you need help.”

“Indeed,” I said, standing corrected. “My ladies, I would love to serve you sausages.”

Camille looked pointedly at my grown and said, “Don’t make any promises you can’t keep, Oogie!”

“You have a one track mind,” Patty said to Camille.

“As long as the train stops at my station,” Camille quipped.

Kristen was giggling at this exchange. She pointed out, “If you want ITALIAN sausage, you’ll have to look elsewhere, Camille.”

“True,” Camille conceded. She perked up after a moment and added, “But a sausage in the hand is worth two in the bush, if you know what I mean.”

Everybody was laughing, which was followed by good natured groaning. Camille was usually pretty fast with the puns, which seemed unusual for a girl.

When the laughter died down, I said, “I think you might be the only one here that may have ever had two in the bush at once, Cammy.”

Everybody looked at me, stunned. Never before did I try to top Camille’s puns before, and I don’t know what got into me. The reaction was slow, but everybody started to laugh very hard, including Camille.

“He got you good,” Patty said to her friend.

“Touché,” Camille said, bowing to me.

“Oh, cut it out,” I said, reddening under the attention from the girls.

“He’s cute when he blushes,” Patty observed.

Kristen reached up and kissed me. “There, there, Oogie. You got that bad little Cammy, didn’t you?”

I sighed. I hoped that trying to top Camille’s outrageous puns didn’t become a habit.

It turned out that sausages were really easy to cook on the grill. Kristen came out with a tray of four large sausages. She winked at Camille as she passed her. In addition, there was also a grill pan in which she put some onions and peppers along with some butter as accompaniments. I toasted a few torpedo rolls, burning only one.

The smell of the cooked meat made everybody hungry, and we made short work of the grinders.

We talked about school, which was starting up the next day.

The girls talked a bit about college, and Camille informed us that she applied to Harvard and was deciding between law or medicine. Kristen was interested in this, explaining how she and her brother owned an apartment in Cambridge, which might help offset some of the tuition costs.

That discussion degenerated into a G-rated recount of our Thanksgiving trip last year (Wow… 1974 was already in the past!).

Some of us retired to the hot tub, while others splashed in the pool. Camille and Kristen took the “special jet” locations.

I managed to find some private time to talk with each of the girls that day, but I didn’t initiate any sexual activity with anybody. Sometimes, it is nice to just talk with your friends.

Chapter 10—Detention

We don’t need no education.

We don’t need no thought control.

No dark sarcasm in the classroom.

Teacher, leave those kids alone!

Pink Floyd

Another Brick in the Wall

That night, Kristen took me to “our” apartment. I was surprised to see that the work that she designed for it was mostly complete. The only thing that was the same from the original apartment was the color scheme in the living room. Apparently, Harry unpacked Kristen’s suitcases since I didn’t see them in the apartment.

As part of the renovation, the appliances in the kitchen were replaced with ones of a more professional quality. The refrigerator no longer contained a freezer on top, but was a wide side-by-side model with a dispenser for water and ice in the heavy brushed metal door. The kitchen also sported a new stove that burned gas, augmented with one of those new microwave ovens on one of the new, larger counters.

The kitchen expanded into the former apartment next door, and now contained what Kristen called an “island” in the middle of it that contained a lot of counter space and an extra sink with a garbage disposal in the middle. Surrounding the island were a few stools which created an informal eating area within the kitchen.

Beyond the kitchen, into the counterpart of our living room in the second apartment, was a combination pantry and hallway, which led to a formal dining room. The centerpiece of the dining room was a large table made of cherry wood with a finish was almost as shiny as glass. Six chairs with tall backs were set at the table, and there was room to expand the table to fit a party of twelve people comfortably. The dining room also sported a matching wall unit that contained a set of china on display.

The dining room also connected back to the living room in the original apartment area, and a hallway led to a guest bedroom and a private bath.

Back in the original apartment, there was a new, enlarged bedroom, which now contained its own private bathroom. There was also the king sized bed that Kristen and I already gave good use to.

Throughout the new apartment was a set of intercoms that would allow either of us to contact the other, no matter where in the apartment the other person would be. It was on a separate and private circuit from the house security intercom; the latter was also accessible from the entire apartment as well.

The carpet was now a full shag carpet throughout the entire apartment, with the exception of the kitchen which was decked out with Italian tile.

“Wow,” I gushed after Kristen gave me the grand tour. “I saw some of this before Christmas, but it’s done now!”

“Well, it’s nearly done,” Kristen said proudly. “As of tonight, it’s ours. It’s no longer my playroom, but our apartment. I’m living here until we get married, when we will pick out our own property. Your parents have already given tentative permission for you to live here if you want, but they’d prefer you to stay at home occasionally, at least for the next year. And I have to show you the one Christmas present that is still not completely ready.”

Another present? I smiled, wondering what kind of new suit that Kristen bought for me.

Instead of leading me to the bedroom, she led me out of the apartment down a set of stairs opposite to the ones we normally climb to go into the apartment. They led into the back of the three-car garage. When Kristen turned on the light, however, I saw new rooms partitioned into what used to be the back of the garage.

Each of the rooms in that back area were about the size of Kristen’s original living room; about a thousand square feet apiece.

“What’s happening here?” I asked.

Kristen smiled. “I’m going to make this room soundproof. It’s going to be your studio!”

I wasn’t sure I was hearing Kristen correctly. “A studio, like an apartment for me, or do you mean like a music studio?”

“Music studio,” Kristen said proudly. “I figured we could put in some shag carpeting, and panel the walls with stuff like in the practice rooms at school for soundproofing…”

This was getting very worrisome to me. “Kris! I don’t need you to do all this for me. I mean… I love what you did to the apartment, but this is too much.”

Kristen looked at me, and then said, “All right. I haven’t done anything here because I needed your input. Let’s put it off a while. In the meantime, we can put in something simple such as a piano or something. Let it be your place where you can doodle in private.”

I shook my head. “I already have that. The keyboard you gave me from Sludge has a jack where I can plug my Sennheiser headphones in. That’s as much privacy as I need… at least for now.”

Kristen was silent a few minutes. I was about to say something when she said, “All right. But this room will be here, whether you choose to use it or not.”

I sighed. I hated spoiling Kristen’s surprises, but I really disliked her spending money on me like that. I wasn’t interested in being the beneficiary of all of Kristen’s money. Sherry’s outburst a few months ago about me loving Kristen only because of her money made me very sensitive to that sort of thing.

Kristen saw my expression and explained, “This garage was always too large, so I asked Daddy if he’d mind if I took it over and built him another one, only one story but still fitting three cars. In return, this whole building becomes mine until I get my own place. This room is just a part of the garage; we will still have room to put our cars in it. The extra space can be a studio for you, and maybe something else. Let’s call it the new playroom, OK? I ran out of discretionary funds for 1974, but we’re now in 1975, and next month is my eighteenth birthday, so I would have been able to actually complete the next part, since it will be so expensive.”

“What is the next part?” I asked.

Kristen pointed to a wall with a blocked doorway. “In your studio, I was going to put in some multi-track tape decks, a mixer, and some other stuff. I’ll talk with some of the guys in the jazz band who know recording to get a feel for what would be good to put here. It may not be anything like a professional studio, but you would have been able to record something better than you were able to do at school.”

“You planned this for me?”

Kristen looked at me strangely. “Everything I do from now on is for you, Jim. My last fling for myself was that trip to Austria. From now on, it will be you and us. Right now, music is important to you, and I want to do everything I can to support you with that. This could be a place for you to compose, practice, and eventually record stuff. The entire building will be ours once my dad’s new garage is built. That construction actually started and should be completed in less than a month. The new driveway to the new garage will require us to wait until the ground thaws, but Daddy told me it should only take a little more than a week. He already has the contractors signed up.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, unable to come up with any words that would let Kristen know how touched I was by her generosity.

Kristen put her arms around me. “Hmm, I have some ideas. Thank you, Kristen. I love you, Kristen. Let’s fuck, Kristen!”

I continued to stare at the studio when Kristen’s words hit me. “Thank you, Goddess. I love you, my fair lady. Let’s make love, my favorite vixen! But first, I want to make something completely clear…” I knew I was starting to sound like ex-President Nixon, but I continued. “I will NEVER fuck you just because you gave me something. I will definitely fuck you because I love you. Is that clear?”

Kristen giggled. “You have such a wonderful way with words, Master.”

“Master?” I repeated.

“Think of me as if I were your little genie in a bottle. Like the old TV show.”

I looked at Kristen and smiled, thinking of her in that silky sheer outfit that Barbara Eden wore.

“Kristen, I can’t treat you like a genie or as a slave. I want to be as much yours as you say you are mine.”

Kristen didn’t answer, but she hugged me tightly.

I was surprised when Kristen then bent down and picked me up. “You got to carry me through the threshold, Jim. If we’re going to be equals, then I’m carrying you over the threshold this time!”

Without so much as a grunt, Kristen managed to pick me up, carry me back up the stairs and into our apartment and into the master bedroom. She deposited me on the bed, and with surprising quickness, she got something out of a dresser drawer, and then got on top of me and pinned me.

Before I knew what was happening, Kristen took two stockings, and had tied them to my wrists and then to the headboard. She then quickly pulled down my pants and boxers, and tied my legs to the posts of the bed.

Kristen got up. I was nude from the waist down and tied spread-eagle to the bed. She admired her handiwork and said, “Well, I’m going out to the living room to watch some television. Too bad you can’t come with me, SLAVE!”

Slave? Hadn’t Kristen just called me Master a few moments ago? I was confused. “What do you mean?”

“Shut up, Slave,” Kristen said, her eyes telling me that she was not kidding right now. “If you want to be as much mine as I am yours, then you will have to start calling me Mistress. Each time you don’t, you will be punished.”

“Kristen, what the hell…”

Kristen’s eyes flashed her anger at me and I shut up. Kristen looked around the room and her eyes settled on a fly swatter that was hanging on the wall. She grinned evilly and retrieved it, and then, without warning, slapped it on my right thigh.

“OW!” I cried, more in surprise than in pain. In all fairness to Kristen, she didn’t seem to try to hurt me.

“That’s ‘Ow, Mistress!’ to you!” Kristen said, and she hit my other thigh.

“OW!” I repeated, and then remembered. “I mean, ow, Mistress!”

“Good, you are learning,” Kristen said, playfully hitting her left palm with the swatter. “OK. Here’s the deal. You refused to be my Master, and said you wanted us to be equals. The only way we can be equals and that I can have you as my Master is for me to become your mistress once in a while, and I guess it’s time for you to learn how I want to be treated when you do become my Master. Do you understand?”

“I guess so,” I said. I hated listening to this twisted logic, but at the moment, I didn’t have any choice.

Kristen swatted her palm again, menacingly.

“I guess so, Mistress,” I corrected myself.

“Good,” Kristen grinned. “Here’s the deal. The next time I call you Master, you will have a choice. Either you order me around and have sex with me, or you can refuse. If you refuse, I’ll be your Mistress, and I’ll have sex with you. Complete equals.”

That didn’t sound very fair. “You mean…”

“Yes. You blew it today, so I’m your Mistress,” Kristen said, her eyes grinning, but her look still serious. “I’m going to let you think about this. When I’m good and ready, I’ll return.”

Kristen left me alone at that point, leaving me to think of her version of “fairness.” If she wants sex, she’ll call me Master, and I’ll take her. If I don’t respond as her Master, then she’ll take over as my Mistress, and she’ll take me. In other words, when Kristen wants sex, Kristen will get sex.

This setup didn’t seem very fair to me. The unfair point was that I wasn’t being consulted. Whether or not I wanted sex when Kristen wanted it, she’d get it. This was the sort of thing that bothered me about Kristen’s insistence that we would be spending our lives together. It wasn’t a terrible thing, but I wanted to have some say in the matter.

If this choice was offered to me a couple of months ago, I would have gone along with it. After all, a guy would do anything to have sex with somebody like Kristen, right?

But now, there were other thoughts. For instance, what if I wanted sex and she didn’t want it? If I were to reverse our roles, I could make her have sex with me at my own whim. What was the difference between that and rape? Wasn’t that one of the big problems with the tickets, that the people that received them didn’t have any say in the matter?

Then again, Kristen was indeed a special case. She was obligated to have my cock and sperm on a regular basis, and the only person to blame for this was me. Maybe this was Kristen’s subtle way of getting even with me.

Thinking about Kristen’s addiction led to a new train of thought. If Kristen’s “Master and Slave” game was unfair to me, how fair was Kristen’s addiction to her? I mean, given that Kristen had this addiction, what if I suddenly choose never to allow Kristen access to those things she craves? I saw her strung out like a junkie when she originally received her addiction; it occurred to me that I could do this again. What would happen? Looking at how Kristen was going to play her game with me, it seemed like if she couldn’t get her fix from me willingly, she might take it from me unwillingly! Was this fair—to me as well as to her? I shuddered at this thought and abandoned this line of thinking.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to have any sort of intellectual discussion with Kristen. I was the one that was tied up, spread-eagle to her bed, and Kristen was out of the room. She was definitely calling the shots right now, and there was no way for me to deny this plain fact.

It was true that Kristen liked playing games in bed, and that this could be just another game to her. If so, it wouldn’t hurt for me to play along.

After a few minutes, Kristen came back into the room. “You’ll eat me, and you will bring me to three orgasms. They need to be big ones. Until I get my quota, I’ll suck you but I won’t let you shoot off. Now, you know and I know that my biggest orgasms are when I’m can taste you, so you’re going to have to work extra hard.”

“How long do I have… Mistress?” I asked, playing along with the game.

“As long as it takes. I’ll stay here until I get my quota. If it takes you an hour, I’ll be happy, and then I’ll swallow your cum and I’ll untie you. If it takes you two days, I’ll wait patiently.”

“But we have school tomorrow!” I protested.

Kristen grinned, and swatted me for not calling her Mistress. “You may not want to miss school, but I’m getting my quota, no matter how long you have to try. I’ve been alone in Europe for the past week, baby! I want this!”

Kristen then left the room before I could respond.

I rarely saw this side of Kristen, the dominatrix. The one time I saw her like that was when she dominated Patrice a few months before.

It was obvious that Kristen gave me a difficult task. I mean, she enjoyed it when I licked her, and she even reached orgasm as I did so, but we were usually in a sixty-nine position when I did that, and her orgasms were usually triggered by my own climax. Thanks to my stupid wish, Kristen found it difficult to reach orgasm without my sperm in her mouth. This may be Kristen’s subtle way of getting even with me for making that wish.

Despite the fact that Kristen hit me three times with the fly swatter, she didn’t use anything close to the amount of strength that she could have put behind it. The intent wasn’t really to inflict real pain, but to show me how she wanted me to dominate her when our roles would eventually be reversed.

I smelled and heard Kristen cooking something in the kitchen. About twenty minutes later, Kristen reappeared in the bedroom with a small plate with a pile of what looked like shredded potatoes on it.

When Kristen came back into the bedroom, she explained, “It’s called rössti. It’s a delicious dish that I had when I was on my trip. It’s a simple recipe, really: butter and potatoes, topped with a little sour cream.” She ate a forkful and gave an appreciative “Umm” in response. “I wanted to make this for you, today, but I guess you’ll be eating something else right now, huh? Like me!”

Kristen ate another couple of forkfuls, and I could feel my mouth salivate over the aroma. For the simple dish that Kristen described, it smelled quite wonderful. I only ate a sausage grinder at dinner, and I was still a bit hungry.

My girlfriend put the plate down on the dresser and shrugged off her robe. “I guess I’m ready for my slave to work off his punishment.”

Without any fanfare, Kristen climbed into the bed, her feet toward the headboard, and straddled my face. My dick grew erect in anticipation of one of her lovely blow jobs, but Kristen didn’t lean over me. I inhaled Kristen’s musk for the first time in a week, and eagerly started licking the folds of her labia, and moved my tongue up and down, seeking to coax her clitoris from its hiding place. I thrust my tongue deep into her hole, and licked up and down until I felt the presence of her perky nub on my tongue.

Kristen adjusted her position, and soon I felt her lips engulf my cock. Hell, I thought to myself, I could imagine worse punishments than having your cock sucked by an expert and licking my lover’s twat. I continued to move my tongue about with renewed vigor. I felt some response as Kristen wiggled her hips to help my tongue reach the proper spot.

After a few minutes, I felt some reflexive movements between Kristen’s legs, recognizing an early sign of her release. I was amazed that I might actually make Kristen reach orgasm without my sperm in my mouth. At about this same time, Kristen stopped sucking me, lazily rubbing the tip of my cock with her tongue. I knew that she didn’t have any intention of allowing me to ejaculate until I gave her the requisite number of orgasms.

It took another couple of minutes, but Kristen’s movements started getting more erratic. Despite my tongue starting to get tired, I continued to thrust it into her snatch, trying to pull that first, difficult orgasm from her. Her thighs were squeezing me, and my cock was once again inside her mouth, although it was just a gentle suckle on the head of my cock while avoiding the tender area at the bottom. This was Kristen’s way of sucking me for long periods of time without actually making me come.

Recognizing that Kristen was not going to allow me to shoot off, I determined that I’d draw out an orgasm of sufficient size from her. I did have a few months’ experience in this position, and I was determined to make this as big as possible for Kristen.

Since Kristen was determined to not allow me to come until I brought out three “big” orgasms, I continued alternating between licking her folds, thrusting my tongue deep inside her, and sucking her clitoris between my lips.

Thankfully, the wish that limited Kristen’s orgasms stated that she needed to have either my dick or my sperm in her mouth. Although I never knew Kristen to have an orgasm in this position without me coming first, I knew it was still possible, since she did have my cock in her mouth. I’ve also been able to bring her to orgasm without my dick or sperm in her mouth, but it wasn’t easy. Anyway, I realized that as long as she continued to suck me, no matter how softly, I might be able to give her orgasms of a sufficient strength. At least, that was my hope.

I continued to tickle around Kristen’s sensitive bud without actually touching it directly with my tongue except for infrequent and random touches. Kristen’s contractions slowly started turning into spasms. She pressed her thighs tightly against my head, making it difficult for me to gauge accurately the size of her orgasm.

Blindly, I continued licking, despite Kristen’s continued pressing of her thighs against my ears, forcing my tongue to continue playing with her sensitive nub more frequently now. It was difficult, although not impossible for me to breathe, but for me that was secondary. I was determined to make her come, even if it killed me.

A period of time passed, and it was getting more and more difficult to get air in through my nose due to the tightness of Kristen’s legs around my head. I suddenly felt massive warmth on my member, and felt my cock easily slip into Kristen’s throat. In response, I thrust my hips up toward her and then away from her, feeling my cock move in and out of her mouth, my cock by now over-sensitized.

Almost without any warning to either me or to Kristen, I started pumping into Kristen’s mouth. I felt her cheeks rubbing against the side of the head of my cock as she applied an incredible amount of suction, sending wave after wave of pleasure through my body.

Through all this, my tongue continued its onslaught of Kristen’s slit. Somehow, Kristen managed to wiggle her clitoris out of direct contact with my tongue, but I continued to probe in the direction where I thought it was, hoping that I’d be able to stimulate it at least indirectly.

After an unknown amount of time, my dick stopped pulsing. I could no longer tell if anything was still coming out, but once again, I could tell that I was deep inside Kristen’s throat, which meant that I was no longer pumping actively. I wondered if my Goddess would be able to breathe with me so deep inside her for so long, but I didn’t sense any kind of panic from her. In fact, her legs continued clamping tightly around my ears and she wiggled her crotch left and right in a vain attempt to evade my probing tongue.

Finally, Kristen pulled her head off my dick, and I felt the cool air hit its saliva slick shaft. The tightness against my head disappeared, and Kristen rolled off my body.

I turned my head toward Kristen, my arms still bound by those silly stockings. I wanted so much to pull her back to me and lavish her lovely crotch with thousands of tiny kisses. Instead, I could see her fine blonde hairs that did nothing to hide her very swollen cunt lips. I cold even see Kristen’s normally hidden clit at the edge, looking like a delicious morsel just right for licking.

I extended my tongue, but Kristen’s crotch was too far away for me to reach. Even so, Kristen saw my movement and instinctively pulled her crotch further away.

“That… that was…” Kristen sounded breathless.

“That was what… Mistress?” I asked, almost forgetting my role in this little game we were playing.

“That was in-fucking-credible! I never thought you could…” Kristen’s words died off.

I continued to watch Kristen’s lovely crotch, now excessively far away for me to reach. Her tummy moved slowly in and out with each breath, and it took me a few minutes before I realized that Kristen was asleep.

Great! Here I was, tied up spread eagle to a bed with the girl of my dreams sleeping next to me.

I examined the stockings that bound me to the bed. The knots were simple overhand knots, and if I pulled on them, they should release easily. Actually, it wasn’t as easy as I originally thought, since pulling on them seemed to just tighten the knots. It took a couple of minutes, but I was eventually able to get the right one off.

With my one hand free, I carefully rolled over to free the hand closer to Kristen. She didn’t awake, and I was able to sit up and untie my legs.

I had to admit that the orgasms I had today were probably the largest that I ever experienced in my short sexual life. Between the one in the changing room and my most recent one, it seemed as if my balls generated a quart of semen, an amount that I knew was an exaggeration. Still, the amount that I must have unleashed was almost definitely a record for me.

Tenderly, I tapped Kristen on the shoulder, but she didn’t respond. This surprised me, as she’s usually a light sleeper, and I expected her to wake up when I tapped her. It then occurred to me that she might be exhausted from her trip to Europe, so I got out of the bed when she didn’t move.

I saw the plate of potatoes, and I took a forkful, ignoring the fact that Kristen already used that fork. I long ago lost any squeamishness about getting germs from Kristen, and neither of us saw any problems with French kissing, oral sex, sharing utensils, or even toothbrushes.

Despite being cold, the potatoes tasted interesting, although I would probably have added more salt. I thought about putting them into the microwave oven, but I never really used one before, and I figured I’d only end up making them inedible. I smiled, and looked back at my sleeping Goddess, her beautiful breasts moving regularly with each breath. Even passed out after an orgasm, Kristen was a wonderful thing to look at. Her disheveled hair still looked gorgeous to me, although I would imagine that Kristen would be scandalized if she could see it right now. How lucky I was to have such a lovely and sexy Goddess in love with me!

The dresser that I was standing at was the same one that Kristen retrieved her stockings from before. I opened the drawer that Kristen used, and saw a large collection of stockings and other things that Kristen referred to as her “regular lingerie”—as opposed to the exotic stuff she kept in packages on a shelf in her closet.

I thought of tying up Kristen spread-eagle as she did to me, and saw something metal at the bottom of the drawer.

Upon closer examination, I discovered there were a pair of handcuffs at the bottom of the drawer! I looked from the drawer to Kristen’s still sleeping body, and wondered. Why did she have these? Where did she get them?

An evil thought came to my mind as I picked up the handcuffs and looked back at Kristen’s unconscious form. Tie me up, would she? I’ll fix her and see how she likes it!

I put the handcuffs on a pair of Kristen’s panties on top of the headboard, using the panties to muffle the jingle of the metal.

I shook Kristen’s shoulders, but she didn’t wake up. I looked at her nervously, but saw that she was still breathing. I never saw Kristen sleep so soundly before. I rolled her onto her back, and she was now in the middle of the bed. She still didn’t wake up. Gently, I tied the two stockings that Kristen used on my legs onto her legs, using very loose knots that I didn’t want to tighten yet. She still didn’t move.

Using slow movements, I gently pulled Kristen’s arms over her head, and looked at the foot of the bed for something on which I could mount her arms. There was a rail connecting the two bedposts. I tied a stocking to that rail, using a square knot. I tied another stocking to that first stocking and then to the middle of the handcuffs, again using a secure knot.

I was finally ready. I carefully slipped the cuffs over Kristen’s wrists. They jingled as I did so, making me freeze, but she still didn’t wake up. Emboldened, I locked them gently on her wrists. Her wrists were now securely fastened.

Kristen’s legs were spread eagle on the bed with two stockings gently tied to the headboard. I tightened and secured the knots and finally I knew that my lovely Goddess was firmly tied to the bed. When she woke up, she would be in for a surprise!

I left my lovely Goddess tied up and walked into the kitchen. I opened the freezer door and found the ice tray, which was full of ice made automatically by the ice maker. I took a nice long sliver and grinned evilly.

Back in the bedroom, Kristen was still asleep. I thought that she made such a fetching image there, and considered, but finally rejected, the idea of getting her Polaroid camera and snapping a few candid shots. Who would I show them to? If Kristen was serious about this master/slave thing, I could do this as often as I wanted. I briefly thought of taking a picture just to threaten her with showing it to somebody, but that thought was easily rejected. Since the two of us became lovers, I never felt the need to really threaten her, kidding or not. I wasn’t about to start now.

I finished Kristen’s rössti, deciding that I actually liked it, and probably would like it even more if it were warmer. I then took the sliver of ice that I retrieved from the kitchen, and touched Kristen’s right nipple. In the dim light of the room, I couldn’t see the nipple get erect, the skin around it being so dark, but I could feel it harden. Kristen shivered slightly in her sleep in reaction to the coolness of the ice, but she did not wake up. Once again, I was amazed at the soundness of Kristen’s slumber.

Intrigued, I touched Kristen’s other nipple, and got the same reaction. She still didn’t wake up. Finally, I touched the ice sliver between her legs at her labia, since her clit was no longer visible.

“Huh? Huh? What?” Kristen woke up, completely disoriented. She moved her arms and was surprised to find herself immobilized. She turned her head but her arms were above her head out of sight.

Kristen tried to get up, but her bonds kept her secure. Happy that she was now awake, I took the sliver of ice and touched between her legs once more.

“Ooh!” Kristen squealed as the cold ice touched her sensitive genitals.

I touched her with the ice again. “That’s ‘Ooh, Master!’ to you, dearie.”

Kristen shook her head and realized that I turned the tables on her. Instead of looking worried, she smiled. She shook her wrists and heard the muffled jingle of the handcuff chain between them. “You found my handcuffs?”

“Yup. Unfortunately, I didn’t see a key with them. You might be here a long time!”

“It’s in a small white envelope in the same drawer,” Kristen told me.

I didn’t bother looking. “You seem quite cheerful despite the fact that you are tied to a bed, naked, and at the whim of your Master.”

Kristen grinned. “I like it… Master.”

I nodded. “I figured you would. You broke your own rule, though.”

Looking up at me curiously, Kristen asked, “How?”

“You told me three orgasms before you’d let me come.”

Kristen laughed. “That was more like four, actually. They were multiple orgasms, I think—one right after another. That never happened to me with you before.”

“Really?” I asked.

Multiple orgasms! I hadn’t been aware of the count; it just seemed like one orgasm, albeit a rather massive one. I felt proud of myself!

I noted offhand Kristen’s use of the term “with you,” which hinted that she may have experienced multiple orgasms with another partner, which would only mean her brother. I forced that train of thought out of my mind, intent on not allowing jealousy to raise its ugly head.

Kristen nodded and got a dreamy look in her eyes. “Yeah. It was amazing. It was like having you fuck me while I sucked you… I got the sensations at both ends. And when they met…” She let the sentence just dangle there.

“Well, the next time you want to tie me up, or the next time you want me to tie you up, just let me know. I don’t know if I want to do this every day, but this is quite fun.”

“I love you, Jim.”

“I love you, Goddess.”

I was actually quite tired from our little game. I turned around and got the envelope from the bottom of Kristen’s lingerie drawer, and unlocked Kristen’s handcuffs.

Once Kristen’s arms were free, she reached up and pulled me down onto her body. “I love you, Jim,” she said after kissing me fiercely. “I’ll love you so fucking much!”

“I love you, Kristen. And I’ll love you forever.”

Kristen looked me in the eyes. I saw some expression quickly pass over her face, but her face just as quickly softened. “I truly hope you will.”

The two of us snuggled together and Kristen fell asleep once more. I figured that she must have been exhausted. I watched her breasts rise and fall as she breathed in and out, and I continued to marvel at her lovely body, watching it completely relaxed, until I fell asleep.

We both slept with our heads to the foot of the bed, and sometime that night, Kristen must have gotten out and put a blanket on my body—I might have been shivering since I prefer sleeping in a warm bed.

* * *

There was school the next day, and Kristen drove me there. Once she kissed me and headed for her homeroom, I looked around and found Patty and Camille. I jogged over to them, and asked if they were looking forward to starting school again after the holiday.

“Well, it could be worse,” Patty smiled. “It’s our last year, and it’s kind of funny, but I won’t have another Christmas vacation from high school again.”

“Not unless you flunk your subjects, or come back as a teacher,” Camille pointed out.

“Or a janitor,” I said, continuing Camille’s thought.

Patty smirked at the two of us. “Jim, I think that Camille’s a bad influence on you… you’re starting to crack jokes more often.” I saw a faraway look in Patty’s eyes. “Still, senior year is all about making memories. It’s funny, but I never really thought about memories until this year. Now, there’s a whole bunch of lasts: the last Christmas vacation, the last Valentine’s day. You know.”

I never considered that; it seemed like something that Kristen might want to talk about when we were alone. “I guess. With me it’s firsts: my first Christmas vacation, my first New Year’s. My first girlfriend…”

Patty smiled at me in an odd way. “You’re sweet, Jim. Kristen’s a lucky girl.”

“Where is Kristen, anyway?” Camille asked.

“Headed off to class,” I answered. “I just noticed that my two best friends were standing here and I had to at least say, ‘Hi!’”

“That’s the one thing you didn’t say, yet,” Camille pointed out.

“Hi!” I responded automatically.

“So, what did you get for Christmas, Jim?”

“Let’s see. An electric piano, a new suit, a tuxedo, a remodeled apartment, and the start of a music studio… and those were just from Kristen!”

The two girls’ mouths hung open.

Camille was the first to speak. “An apartment? Are you kidding?”

“She remodeled the playroom, enlarging it to eventually include the entire garage. She says it’s ours now.”

Camille looked thoughtful at that comment.

Patty finally found her voice. “And a tuxedo?”

I nodded and then sighed. “Kristen said that I’ll wear that when we get married. If not, I’ll wear it at my funeral.”

The two girls looked at each other. “Did she really say that?” Patty asked.

“Actually, she told me the first part,” I admitted. “Then I said a stupid thing, like, ‘What if I don’t get married in that tuxedo?’ and then she said the second part.”

Patty shook her head. “Jim, you can’t treat her feelings like that.”

I lowered my head. “Yeah. I regretted saying that the moment it came out of my mouth. You’re right, I might be cracking too many jokes. I think I was just trying to recover from my amazement, as well as the fact that she seems determined to spend the rest of her life with me. It sometimes feels as if I don’t have a choice in the matter.”

Patty hugged me. “It’s going very fast for you, isn’t it?”

I nodded. “As fast as Kristen in her Camaro on Dodger Road,” I quipped, a reference to a deserted road near Kristen’s house where I’ve seen her hit speeds that would frighten Mario Andretti. “Patty… Camille… I would love to spend the rest of my life just worshiping that wonderful girl. I know she feels the same way about me, but sometimes… sometimes… I just… I don’t know.”

Camille spoke up. “Jim, you have music in third period. Can you skip it?”

I shook my head. “Today’s the first day back. We’re getting the music for the spring concert. And I also need to put together a program for the jazz band.”

“After school is bad for me today… cheerleader practice,” Camille replied. “How about third period tomorrow?”

I looked at the blonde haired senior. “I’ll talk to Mr. Proilet. I skipped his class once when I was in a funk about something, but he didn’t seem to mind. He probably won’t mind if I let him know in advance.”

“I have lunch during third period,” Camille explained. “Can you meet me in the library tomorrow?”

“Sure. I’ll need a library pass…”

“I’ll take care of that. Just show up in the library for third.”

The warning bell sounded, and the three of us departed for our home rooms.

Before music class started, I explained to Mr. Proilet that I needed to use the library during class tomorrow, and without hesitation, I was given permission. Mr. Proilet also made out a library pass for me.

The day was normal until eighth period.

I entered my English class, and as usual, I said “Hi!” to Sherry before taking my seat. Even before the late bell rang, Ms. Taylor, my English teacher, called me to her desk.

“You’re constantly disrupting this class,” she said, her eyes blazing at me. “You’re on detention for the entire week.”

“Huh? What did I do?” I protested.

“You know what you did,” Ms. Taylor said. “Get back to your seat or it will be two weeks.”

I couldn’t believe it. I was on detention for the first time in my life, and I didn’t even have any idea about what I might have done wrong!

Detention meant that I would have to stay in Ms. Taylor’s classroom for an hour after school went out. Since she was my last class, I could just stay there.

This was terrible—being on detention for a week would mean that I would not be able to attend jazz band rehearsal today, where we would have to start getting ready for the spring concert.

What did I do? The only thing I did when I entered the room was to say “Hi!” to Sherry and head for my seat. I did my homework, and I thought I was doing pretty well in class, although an essay that I wrote right before vacation contained many red marks in it—nitpicking, actually. I was debating whether to discuss that with the teacher, but right now wasn’t a good time for that.

How could my teacher say that I was disrupting her class? I didn’t have any idea. I rarely talked in class, and the only thing that people giggled at (even more nowadays after the Christmas concert) was when people called me “Oogie,” but that hadn’t even happened in that class today.

When the class let out, I went over to Sherry to have her tell Kristen about my situation, but Ms. Taylor loudly told me to take my seat and to shut up.

Now, I knew that this was completely wrong! There was a ten minute period between the end of class and the start of detention to allow people to get things ready or to get to their class. Instead of arguing with the teacher, I simply ignored her and left the classroom to find Mr. Proilet. There was jazz band rehearsal after class, and I needed to let him know that I was going to miss it.

My music teacher was gathering his papers when I found him. “Mr. Proilet, it seems that I have detention for a week.”

“You?” Mr. Proilet asked, incredulously. “What did you do?”

“I’m not sure. Ms. Taylor didn’t actually say. She’s angry at me, and I won’t be able to do the jazz class today.”

My teacher looked at me and sighed. “You aren’t a bad student, Jim. Are you telling me that Ms. Taylor didn’t tell you why you were put on detention?”

“No,” I said, my anger starting to rise again. “It must be some misunderstanding, but I should be in her class right now.”

“Let me come with you,” Mr. Proilet said.

The two of us returned to my English class. When Ms. Taylor saw me, she was about to say something until she saw Mr. Proilet, who was right behind me.

“Reneé, Jim tells me that he has detention for a week.”

“Two weeks,” Ms. Taylor said. “He walked out on me after I told him to stay after class.”

“He has jazz band rehearsal after class. He came to tell me that he wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“I don’t care if your little pet here isn’t able to attend his after school activity. He’s on detention and that cancels extracurricular activities. You are quite aware of that.”

My music teacher looked at Ms. Taylor as if she grew another head. “Detention doesn’t start until ten minutes after school ends. He came back on time… I’m here with him! Would you care to discuss this with the front office?”

I saw Ms. Taylor glare at Mr. Proilet. She started to say something, but then stopped, and said, “All right. It’s one week, at least for now.”

From the sound of Ms. Taylor’s voice, I knew that she would probably find a way to extend my detention. I wondered how this situation actually started.

Looking from Ms. Taylor, to me, and then back, Mr. Proilet decided that further intrusion would be unwise. He said, “I’ll take care of the jazz band for you today, Jim.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I watched Mr. Proilet leave. After he was gone, I said, “Excuse me, Ms. Taylor, but if I have disrupted your class…”

“You know very well what you did,” Ms. Taylor snapped. “Now, shut your face, take your seat and start writing an essay about the importance of education.”

I sighed. I opened my attaché case and retrieved a pen and my notebook. I saw my roll of tickets and rejected the idea of using them on Ms. Taylor.

I did the assignment, all the while thinking about the injustice of all this.

Kristen met me after class, and she took us to our apartment. Mr. Proilet had taken her aside during the rehearsal and let her know why I wasn’t at class.

Kristen commiserated with me about the apparent injustice over what my English teacher was doing, but she couldn’t offer any advice. She also said that Mr. Proilet asked her if she wanted to perform in the spring concert as a second keyboardist. Kristen didn’t want to edge out Amy, so she didn’t give any definite answer.

I nodded and then got an idea. “What if you take the electric piano that you got me for Christmas. We would have both Amy on acoustic and you on electric. It could add a nice texture to the sound of the band.”

“I’d have to drag it back and forth on Thursdays,” Kristen pointed out.

“I’ll see if Mr. Proilet has access to a keyboard. He’s young enough, and I think I remember him telling me that he used to be in a rock band when he was in college.”

Kristen laughed at her mental image of my teacher in a rock band, but agreed that it might be a workable idea.

When we were at our apartment, Kristen took some deli-sliced roast beef from her refrigerator, some French bread, and then started making a gravy using some beef stock in a can.

Showing me the deep fryer and a bag of frozen French fries, Kristen told me to cook the fries while she prepared some sandwiches. This quick meal quickly became one of our favorites. I made her promise me that we’d have French dip sandwiches often.

I did my homework at Kristen’s apartment while Kristen lovingly sucked my cock in her slow, minimally-distracting way, and just before ten o’clock, she took me to my house.

The next day, I found Mr. Proilet before school started, and he said that he was unsuccessful in getting Ms. Taylor to reprieve me from my detention, and that if I really thought her actions were unfair, I might want to talk with the assistant principal or, even better, the principal. Mr. Proilet even offered to accompany me if I wanted.

I thanked Mr. Proilet, but decided to avoid any more confrontations with Ms. Taylor and just do my assignments after school. I also reminded him that I’d be in the library during third period, and told him about my idea of having Kristen on electric piano. Mr. Proilet lit up at my suggestion and said he had a keyboard in his attic and Kristen could plug it into one of the amplifiers we had at the school.

Sherry found me in first period and asked me what happened in English. I admitted that I had no idea and that it all seemed to have come unexpectedly. We didn’t get to talk much before History class began.

When third period arrived, Camille was near the entrance of the library. I handed my pass to the librarian, and then Camille led me to a table near the back of the room.

“We need to talk, Jim.”

“This is about Kristen, right?” I asked.

“Yes,” Camille answered. “It’s also about your Lucky Tickets.”

What the fuck? How did Camille know about them? The only people that knew were Merry, who didn’t know anything about their powers, and Patty and Kristen, who were obligated never to tell anybody.

“Jim, I know about the tickets. I have always known about them, even before you did.”

My jaw dropped to the floor. “What… What are you talking about?”

“Yeah. You gave me number six, not knowing that they don’t work on me.”

I was just too confused. “They don’t work?”

Camille sighed. “I can’t tell you too much about them. My sister Debbie owned them for a while. She gave me her first one. I saw them last August and avoided them like the plague. I saw what they did to Debbie. Now you have them.”

The story was confusing. “You avoided them?”

“I can’t say anything more about that,” Camille said, frowning. “Debbie owned them for about six years.”

“Tell me about them,” I begged.

Camille looked around the library. There wasn’t anybody else around, but she looked nervous. “Can we meet after school?”

“Usually, Kristen takes me home, but I have detention today.”

“You have detention?” Camille asked. “Whatever for?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Teacher said I was disrupting class, but all I did was say ‘Hi!’ to Sherry before class even started.”

Camille looked at me strangely. “Sherry looked upset during practice yesterday.” After a moment, Camille said, “That means you missed out on your band rehearsal, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. Mr. Proilet tried to talk some sense to Ms. Taylor, but she didn’t want to hear any of it.”

“Ms. Taylor… English class?” Camille asked.

“Yeah.”

Camille shook her head. “Oh, boy. I’ll try to find Kristen and tell her that I’ll drive you home this afternoon.”

I nodded absently, and said, “Kris and I have a date tonight.”

Camille smiled and said, “I know. Kristen always gets all the hunks. We really need to talk, even if only for a couple of hours.”

“Kristen knows about the tickets.”

Camille looked at me strangely. “I didn’t know whether you’d tell her about them after what you did to her with them.”

“It’s hard to explain to a girl why she’s addicted to my cock and sperm without telling her the truth.”

Camille said, “I wish I could have warned you, Jim, but you really need to find out for yourself the problems that those tickets can cause. I didn’t even know what you did to her until the next day, when it was too late.”

I shrugged.

Camille sighed. “My sister found them when she was fourteen,” she said. “I was twelve and you were about nine. We were actually walking to your house to baby-sit you. I remember that day vividly. However, I can’t tell you more until we’re completely alone.”

“May I tell Kristen afterward?”

Camille shrugged. “Find out the story and then figure out what you’ll tell Kristen. Some parts you will probably not want to tell.”

Once again I shrugged, since I didn’t completely understand.

The class bell rang, and I headed to the lunchroom. A few minutes after I arrived, I saw Kristen and Patty walk in together. Patty went onto the serving line, and Kristen smiled at me and gave me a kiss.

“What’s up, lover?” Kristen asked.

“Camille wants to talk with me after school. Would you mind if I have her drop me off at the apartment?”

There was a sparkle in Kristen’s eyes as she answered. “Hot date at Lake Shore Point, huh?”

“I think that might be where we’ll go, but I only have eyes for you, my fair Goddess.”

That earned me a bigger kiss. Since we were in the middle of the cafeteria, we drew some attention. I could hear people saying, “Way to go, Oogie!” but I ignored them for the most part.

At our table, Patty was sitting with Toby again, and he was telling Patty about me giving him my silver trumpet and some earplugs as a present. Patty smiled at me as I approached the table with Kristen. Patty told me that she and Toby broke up, but it seemed that their friendship remained. I was happy for them.

“You weren’t in music class today,” Toby said when he noticed me.

I shrugged. “I met with somebody.”

“You weren’t at jazz band yesterday, either. Mr. Proilet has us working on Pink Panther again.”

“I’m on detention until next Wednesday,” I said.

“Ooh,” Toby said, feeling my pain. “That sucks!”

Patty looked at me. “Why are you on detention? What did you do?”

“It beats the hell out of me. It’s as if Ms. Taylor has taken a sudden dislike to me. I said ‘Hi’ to Sherry Jordan before class started, and Ms. Taylor told me that I was disrupting class and I was on detention for a week.”

“This was before class even started?” Patty asked.

“Yeah. It’s kind of crazy, actually.”

Patty seemed upset. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I’ll write essays for the next week,” I said.

Patty, Toby, and even Kristen shook their heads, but nobody had any real suggestions for me.

I found Sherry before eighth period, and told her that I wouldn’t say anything to her, so Ms. Taylor wouldn’t have anything else to pin on me. She told me she understood, and even gave me a hug in the hallway.

My essay assignment this day was to write about a happy moment that I would like to relive. The subject didn’t seem to be as punishing as the last one about the importance of education, and it didn’t take a lot of thinking for me to come up with a happy moment. In the past few months, every happy moment involved Kristen.

My mind wasn’t really on writing. Instead, I was thinking about the lingerie shows that Kristen would give me wearing high heels, fishnet stockings, garter belts, and bras that didn’t hide anything. I was thinking about last autumn, when Kris and I would lay down on a picnic blanket, reading books, doing homework, and occasionally make love. I was thinking about how lovely Kristen looked despite her disheveled appearance when she was fast asleep after I tied her up the other night.

The people in the jazz band considered Kristen to be my muse, but I think she was more than that. She was becoming my reason for living. She loved me and I loved her. No matter what could happen, even having teachers that had some weird agendas against me, we still had each other. Isn’t that love?

The one thing that bothered me was Kristen’s apparent assumption that we would get married and spend the rest of our lives together. It wasn’t that I didn’t want this myself, because I really did. Although I had few doubts and may have just wanted to keep my options open, it worried me that Kristen didn’t seem to think that any other future could be possible. I knew that I would have to talk to somebody about that, most likely Patty.

At the end of the hour, Ms. Taylor asked for my essay. I realized that I was writing while fantasizing about Kristen. I glanced at what I wrote and found that I was a bit explicit in my descriptions. Since I needed to hand my assignment to the teacher, and she asked for a description of a happy moment, I just handed it in. She made up the assignment, so I’d let her deal with it.

I left the classroom and found Camille nearby. We walked together to her car in the parking lot.

Since we were going to talk about the tickets, I figured that maybe, just maybe, I might finally make some sense of things that were happening.

Chapter 12—Chicago and Confrontation

Love talkin’, is all very fine, yeah

Jive talkin’, Just isn’t a crime

And if there’s somebody,

You’ll love till you die

Then all that jive talkin’,

Just gets in your eye

Bee Gees

Jive Talkin’

I picked up the phone in the kitchen and called my mother to tell her that Kristen was taking me somewhere—a surprise—and that I’d be home before ten o’clock tomorrow evening. My mother didn’t have a problem with that.

Kristen drove me in her Camaro to a small airport about ten miles away. Apparently, she chartered a flight that would take us to Midway airport in Chicago.

“Chicago?” I asked Kristen. “Why not just drive there?”

“I told you I wanted to do something special,” Kristen explained.

The pilot was a friend of Kristen’s father, who piloted Kristen’s family on many occasions. He knew Kristen as well, and greeted her by name when she approached him. “Hey, Kristen! Is this your boyfriend?”

“Jerry, this is Jim,” Kristen said by way of introduction.

“Daniel has told me a lot about this fine young man,” Jerry said, shaking my hand. “I’ll be staying in Chicago overnight, and I’ll be waiting to take you back.”

Jerry led us to a Cessna turbo-prop airplane. It was, to say the least, much smaller than the jets that Kristen and I took back in November. He stowed our luggage for us.

I was nervous when Jerry indicated that I was to sit in the co-pilot’s seat and Kristen took the back seat. “Are you sure you don’t want to sit in the front?” I asked Kristen, a bit afraid of being behind a steering wheel.

“Oh, I’ve done that before. I’ll let you have the fun today.”

Jerry noticed my nervousness and told me that everything would be all right. After I was belted in, Jerry got out of the plane and gave it a final once over to make sure that everything was as it should be.

“Tell Jerry that he should make sure he has enough gas to get to Chicago,” Kristen said, her nose crinkling at my obvious discomfort.

“Gas?” I stammered.

Jerry laughed as he entered the plane. “Don’t let Kristy here get you nervous,” he said, laughing. “I’ve only ran out of gas a few times, and not in the past few weeks, even!”

“That’s Kristen, and you know better, Uncle Jerry!”

Jerry winced at the “Uncle” prefix and said, “Stop torturing Jim, then,” Jerry insisted. “Is this your first flight, Jim?” he asked me.

“N-no, sir,” I answered. “It’s my first time behind the wheel, though. I never even drove a car.”

“Well, driving this baby is a piece of cake. The weather promises to be nice this weekend, so you might get a chance to control the plane. It will give me a chance to catch forty winks on the way into Chicago!”

“No, thank you,” I said, incredulous that he would allow a sixteen year old behind the controls.

“Uncle Jerry, you’re just as bad as me!”

“Kristen back there first flew… when was it, dear? You were twelve?”

“Eleven,” corrected my love.

“Really?” I asked.

“It’s really simple. The hard parts are the take off and the landing, and I’ll be doing those today.”

As it turned out, I did get a few moments at the controls in the air, and I was surprised how easy it was. However, I was quite nervous the entire trip, and Jerry seemed to notice this and understood. He made no further jokes about taking a nap.

Aside from that, the trip to Midway was uneventful, although it seemed to me that Jerry was quite distracted when he was approaching the city. In retrospect, it made sense… Chicago was a very large hub, even in the 1970s.

In Chicago, Kristen rented a car—a Datsun that looked a lot like Wendy’s except, to Kristen’s disappointment, it had an automatic transmission. We drove to a motel near the airport to unpack our bags. I noticed that we arrived before the normal check-in time, but they allowed us in despite that.

* * *

From the motel, we headed downtown, and I discovered that Kristen made reservations at the venerable Berghoff Restaurant.

“Good afternoon, Miss Swift,” the Maitre d’ said as she entered the restaurant. “Your table is waiting for you.”

My beloved Kristen and I walked past a few surprised tourists as we were led to our seats. The waiter handed us three menus, but Kristen and I declined the wine list.

“What’s good here?” I asked Kristen.

“Anything with a German name, of course. I’m partial to their seafood dishes,” Kristen answered.

As it was, neither of us ordered off the menu. The waiter arrived and described a list of daily specials, and the two of us chose our meals from that list. I ordered a Schnitzel that came with a mushroom sauce, and Kristen ordered the lake trout that the waiter assured us had been caught that very morning in Lake Michigan.

“So, what do you think?” Kristen asked after the waiter left.

“This place looks old,” I said, truly impressed. I heard people talk about this restaurant, but never thought that I’d ever set foot in it.

The waiter quickly arrived with our Root Beers, which was as close to the famous Berghoff Beer that we intended to get. The two of us clinked our glasses together and took a sip. Kristen, of course, managed to get some of the foam on her nose, causing me to giggle and offer her my napkin.

“The place is old,” Kristen said. “I think it opened at the turn of the century.”

“It looks wonderful. I’m amazed at the service.”

Kristen smiled. “The food here is quite excellent, and some of the waiters have been here for years.”

“What else is on the agenda?”

“Too early in the year for baseball,” Kristen said with a shrug. “Wrigley Field would have been killer. Let’s just walk around the loop and act as if we were tourists.”

“Sounds great to me,” I said with a grin.

“Everything sounds great to you,” Kristen pointed out.

“Everything that involves you… yes.”

“Sweet!”

The meal was as excellent as we expected. Kristen left a large tip.

* * *

After that wonderful weekend with Kristen, school almost seemed to be a let-down.

A high point of the day was after third period music class, when I showed Mr. Proilet some arrangements that I worked on over the vacation.

“Jim,” my teacher said. “These are getting better and better!”

“Thanks,” I said, a bit happy about the praise.

Pulling the last set of sheets from the bottom of the pile, Mr. Proilet looked at the conductor’s score and frowned. “Try as I might, I can’t place this tune. You didn’t put a title on this.”

I looked at the arrangement that drew my teacher’s attention and blushed. “This wasn’t meant for the band… at least, not yet.”

“Oh?”

“It’s a song that I’m working on writing. It’s not finished.”

“A song for your muse, huh?” Mr. Proilet asked with a gleam in his eye.

“Yeah,” I said, reddening even more. “Another song for Kristen.”

Mr. Proilet glanced at it for a few moments before handing that arrangement back to me.

The two of us stood near the doorway to the music room. Mr. Proilet looked around to make sure we were alone. “What did you do to Ms. Taylor, Jim? She seems furious today, and she seems to think that I’ve unfairly interfered in a discipline situation.”

“I don’t know,” I said with a sigh. “I avoided doing anything even remotely disruptive on Friday. I didn’t even open my mouth once. She seemed a bit more mollified. Maybe that’s the solution to whatever it is that is bothering her.”

“Well, I know for a fact that she’s definitely not mollified. In fact, I think she’s out for your blood for some reason.”

“Huh?”

“My boy, my advice to you is to be on your best behavior today. Ms. Taylor is angry about something and it’s about to explode.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, a bit worried at the seriousness of my teacher’s words.

“Just be on your best behavior.” Mr. Proilet seemed that he was about to say something more, but then shook his head and said, “Do you have your music room pass?”

“Yeah. It’s in my attaché case. The hall monitors know me; nobody asks me for it much anymore.”

“Keep it handy when you go to the lunchroom, OK?”

I shrugged. I opened the case and pulled out the pass.

“Good, Jim. Please tell Kristen that I’ll have the keyboard ready for her on Thursday.”

“All right.”

I left the music room feeling the paranoia that Mr. Proilet instilled in me. I walked slowly toward the end of the school where the cafeteria was located.

A voice jarred me out of my reverie. “Jim Crittenhouse?”

I didn’t recognize the voice, and I looked up to see a hall monitor glaring at me… the same hall monitor that previously let me pass without question since the beginning of the school year. “Yeah?”

“Hall pass,” the monitor said, her voice harsh.

Luckily, my pass was in my hand, since I heeded my music teacher’s advice. “Here.”

“It’s undated,” the lady said accusingly.

“Yes. It’s good for the rest of the school year. See where Mr. Proilet and the Assistant Principal signed it?”

The hall monitor scanned every inch of the pass, looking at me as if she just caught me sneaking out of the girls locker room.

Finally, the lady said, “Well, it seems mostly in order. Maybe your teacher should be issuing these once a week instead of for an entire school year. These things can be misused, you know.”

“I’ll let him know,” I said.

The hall monitor was about to give me back my pass, but then pulled it back, saying “Maybe I should keep this one.”

“Huh? You said it was in order!”

“I said it was mostly in order.”

The two of us stood in the hallway in confrontation. Other students passed by, slinking away behind the hall monitor’s back. The hall monitor barely noticed the other students, but was only intent on me for some reason.

I looked at the hall monitor’s name badge. I said, “Mrs. Sneely, maybe you should take me to the front office if you have a problem with my pass. You’ve accepted this pass many times before and there was never any problem with it until now. Maybe Mr. Yank can resolve this matter.”

The lady glared at me. Mr. Yank was the name everybody called Mr. Yankovitz, the school’s Principal. She knew that I just called her bluff. Of course, if she took me to the office, she’d be “abandoning her post,” allowing miscreants such as me to wander the halls causing all sorts of mischief. She also knew that there was nothing wrong with this pass. Looking as if I just forced her to suck a raw egg, she finally handed the pass back to me. “This is the last day I will accept this pass from you, young man. Have a proper pass next time, or I will indeed escort you to the office. Do you understand?”

I took the pass. “Yes, ma’am,” I answered, oozing the respect that I definitely did not feel for that woman.

“Get going to class!”

I walked quickly down the hall and out of range of the hall monitor from hell. Oh, yeah, I thought to myself. I’ve got to get to that important lunch class, don’t I?

In the lunchroom, Kristen, Patty, and Sherry were already eating.

It was Patty who noticed something. “What’s up, Jim?”

“I just got stopped by the Hall Monitor Gestapo!”

“Huh? Which one?”

“Mrs. Sneely,” I answered. “She was right outside the music room. She hasn’t asked me for my pass in over a month, and today it’s no longer good enough.”

“That’s weird,” Patty said.

“My poor, picked-on baby,” Kristen said, pursing her lips in mock kisses.

I took a few deep breaths to put the nasty incident behind me, and listened to the girls talk. About ten minutes before the end of the class, Patty turned to me and said, “Jim? Can the two of us talk in private?”

I looked at Kristen for permission. She simply shrugged.

Patty and I said good-bye to our friends, and we found another table that was mostly empty. “You are definitely upset, Jim. Is it about the Hall Monitor?”

I wondered how much to tell Patty. I figured that there wasn’t much harm in talking with her. “Yes,” I answered. “The weird thing about it was that Mr. Proilet warned me to have my pass out. It was as if he was warning me that something bad was about to happen.”

“That is weird,” Patty agreed. “Did he say anything else?”

“He told me that Ms. Taylor is on the warpath with me. I’ve been very quiet in her class, and she seemed maybe a bit closer to normal on Friday. I have no idea why she’s so angry at me all of a sudden. It doesn’t seem fair.”

“Is she the teacher who has you on detention?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“I can’t offer too much advice there,” Patty said, frowning. “I’ve never been a behavioral problem in school. You might want to ask Camille. She used to be a bit rowdy a few years back. There’s one thing I can tell you, though. Don’t ever let yourself be bullied by a teacher. Every teacher has to answer to somebody, whether it be the Assistant Principal, her colleagues, the Principal, the school board, or even the local community. They live in a glass jar, and as much as they want you to think that they are the kings and queens in their own little world, that’s rarely ever really the case. If you think you are right, then you should stand up for what you believe.”

I listened to Patty’s advice. For somebody that couldn’t offer “too much,” she said a mouthful.

The bell rang and I went off to my next class, wondering why Ms. Taylor seemed to hate me so much.

* * *

I entered English class with trepidation. Ms. Taylor glowered at me, but I was thankful that she didn’t say anything.

I wasn’t called upon to answer any questions in class, nor did I offer any kind of participation other than to take a pop quiz.

After the class ended, I remained in the classroom. I remembered how difficult Ms. Taylor became last Thursday when I insisted on taking off between the end of class and the beginning of detention. I didn’t want to add any fuel to the apparent fire within Ms. Taylor.

Unfortunately, Ms. Taylor was not to be so easily mollified. “Mr. Crittenhouse, let’s take a walk to the front office, shall we?”

I was taken aback by Ms. Taylor’s request. I simply nodded, and followed my teacher silently through the halls to the front office.

The receptionist looked at Ms. Taylor and me, and told Ms. Taylor that Stanley Yankovitz, the high school Principal, would be meeting us in his office in five minutes.

My teacher didn’t seem pleased. “Stan? I thought that…”

The receptionist cut her off. “Ms. Tomago is dealing with another problem with another teacher. I’ve taken the liberty of giving Mr. Yankovitz the information that you gave to Ms. Tomago.” She then turned to me and said, “You, Jim, can wait in Mr. Yankovitz’s office.”

“But Ms. Tomago…!”

Again, the receptionist interrupted Ms. Taylor. “Mr. Yankovitz will be here in five minutes, Reneé. He wants to see you before he sees the student.”

“OK,” Ms. Taylor said.

The receptionist gestured me toward Mr. Yankovitz’s office.

After I entered the room, I heard my mother’s voice. “Jim! What’s this I hear about you being on detention?”

“Mom?” I asked, confused. Parents were rarely notified during simple detention other than the optional fact that a student would be staying late and there might need to pick the student up instead of taking the bus. However, there were two intramural buses that circled the entire town about fifteen minutes after detention was over, so transportation was rarely an issue.

“The school called me today, and told me that you were being very disruptive! They said you even threatened somebody!”

I sighed. Things were definitely coming to a head, now. Ms. Taylor upped the ante. Now, there were actual accusations rather than the vague “disruption” complaint. Since I never threatened anybody—it wasn’t really my nature—I felt I was on better ground. I remembered Patty’s advice about not letting myself be bullied by a teacher.

“What do you know about this threat?” I asked my mother. “This is the first that I’ve heard this one. Last week, Ms. Taylor said I was being disruptive, but never explained what, exactly, I was doing that was upsetting her.”

“Jim, your teacher is serious!” my mother said. “According to her, you have been a severe behavioral problem, you’ve threatened another student, and she’s recommending suspension!”

“Suspension?” I asked, incredulously. “But I haven’t done anything! I’ve never threatened anybody!”

My mother looked me deeply in the eyes, and finally her look softened. “Look, Jim, I’m on your side. I trust you, and if you say you haven’t done anything, I’ll take you at your word.”

I felt better having my mother there. Together, we suffered in silence with verbal and sometimes physical harassment at the hands of my real father. If there was anybody who I could rely upon to be on my side in the face of unjust accusations, it was her.

I was bolstered by the presence of my mother, rather than being put on defense, which might have been the intention of whoever called her. The two of us waited for my teacher to arrive with the Principal.

The Principal, Stan Yankovitz, was a youngish man in his thirties, and usually walked around the school wearing a collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was known to the kids as Mr. Yank, and it wasn’t a derogatory nickname. He had a reputation of being stern when necessary, but the word among the students was that he was also very fair. He was the complete and utter opposite of Ms. Tomago, the Assistant Principal who was a more elderly lady who always seemed to side with teachers during disputes, despite any evidence offered that a teacher might be mistaken.

Luck was certainly with me that day. Apparently, Ms. Taylor thought she set it up so I would be confronting Ms. Tomago. Instead, I got Mr. Yank.

My music teacher warned me that Ms. Taylor was out for my blood, but I never suspected that she would take things so far and so quickly.

I looked nervously at my mother, and took a few deep breaths. I closed my eyes and remembered Patty’s words of advice earlier that day. It actually made me feel better.

The five minutes that my mother and I spent together in that office weren’t spent talking, but in silent communication between my mother and me. I no longer saw the look of alarm at my possibly having threatened another student, but she still looked worried that my academic future might be in jeopardy. She wasn’t extremely confident that I would prevail, but she knew that I didn’t lie to her. Her trust in me made me feel a bit better. As I mentioned before, we suffered through unfair accusations in the past at the hands of my father, so we were both prepared for the worst. I believe that whatever she saw or read in my own expressions also helped bolster her confidence.

There was a quick knock on the door as the door opened. Mr. Yank and Ms. Taylor entered the office.

The Principal introduced himself and Ms. Taylor to my mother and me. I shook his hand and received a firm one back from him. Ms. Taylor didn’t offer her hand to me.

“Reneé tells me that you’ve been a disruptive influence in her class for a number of weeks,” Mr. Yank said, getting straight to the point. “She says that she put you on detention last week and you resisted immediately to the point of having another teacher berate her in front of her students. Finally, she says that on Friday, you threatened another student and she has evidence of that charge.” He turned to my teacher. “Is that a valid summary of what you’ve told me and Ms. Tomago?”

“Yes, Stan,” Ms. Taylor replied. “In fact, Ms. Tomago told me…”

“She’s unavailable right now, Reneé,” Mr. Yank answered softly. “OK, those are the charges as I have been able to discern them.”

“Charges?” my mother said, her face white.

The Principal sighed. “Please excuse me, Mrs. Crittenhouse…”

“Cummings,” my mother answered, automatically.

“Excuse me?”

“My last name is Cummings. I’ve remarried.”

“I’m very sorry,” Mr. Yank said. “This is all being pushed through so fast, not all the paperwork has reached me. Some of it is in the hands of my assistant…”

“Ms. Tomago should be here,” Ms. Taylor insisted. “She is very well acquainted with this case.”

“This is not a case, Reneé,” the Principal said testily. “This is a conference between a student, his parent, and his teacher, and I’m here to ensure that the school’s interests, as well as the student’s interests, are met.” He then addressed my mother. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Cummings. I have studied law, and passed the bar in Ohio, so I may be prone to use words such as ‘charges,’ in a matter such as this. Let me assure you that this is not a legal action, nor are the police involved at this point. That being said, if Ms. Taylor’s assertions prove to be true, you and your son are entitled to legal representation. I would rather keep this more informal—I’d like to establish the actual facts in this matter.”

My English teacher looked furious but held her temper; one of the first times I’ve seen her do so since I came back from vacation.

The Principal continued. “All right, Reneé. You make three accusations. The first is that James here is a disruptive student in your class. The second is that he asked another teacher to berate you in front of your class. And the third and most troublesome accusation is that he physically threatened another student. Are these accusations correct?”

The teacher looked a bit flustered. “The threat wasn’t physical, but it was a threat of violence.”

“I see,” Mr. Yank said steadily. “A threat of physical violence?”

“Of course. Sexual violence… rape!”

My mother and I gasped at that charge. Rape?

“Let me make sure that I understand you,” Mr. Yankovitz said. “You say that he threatened to rape another student?”

“Yes,” my teacher insisted. “And I have evidence! Ms. Tomago said…”

“Ms. Tomago cannot be here right now,” Mr. Yank reminded Ms. Taylor. “May I see your evidence, or does Ms. Tomago have that, also?”

“I have that!” the teacher said, finally feeling vindicated. She handed a couple of notebook pages to the Principal.

The Principal looked at the pages, and quickly skimmed over them all, reading whatever was on it at a very quick pace. “This is your threat of rape, Reneé?”

“Yes,” Ms. Taylor said. “The girl he writes about is a student here… she’s actually a senior! This isn’t just fantasy. He’s writing about himself and a real person!”

“I see where you’re going with this,” Mr. Yank said. He turned to me and said, “Do you recognize this?”

I looked at the pages that the Principal held up. From where I was sitting, I couldn’t tell without getting closer exactly what was written on them, but I could easily tell it was my handwriting style. It was probably the essay that I wrote on Friday.

“It looks like my handwriting, Mr. Yankovitz. May I see it closely?”

The Principal shook his head, slightly. “If this is indeed evidence of a real threat to one of our students, I cannot simply hand it over to the person accused, you understand. Would it help you if I told you that the date of this essay is January third—last Friday? It was apparently written in Ms. Taylor’s class…”

“Is this the essay I was asked to write in detention?” I asked.

The Principal deferred the question to Ms. Taylor. “You know very well when you wrote that vicious and vile…”

“Reneé,” Mr. Yank interrupted. “Please answer the question with a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ Is this the essay you asked James to write during detention?”

“Yes,” Ms. Taylor answered curtly.

“You are stating that you requested him to write this, and you are now accusing him of physically threatening another student because he wrote it?”

“No,” Ms. Taylor said, flustered. “I told him to write a story about better times.”

“Excuse me,” I interrupted. “I was asked to write about a happy moment that I wanted to relive.”

The Principal’s eyes grew wide. “Reneé. Was that the subject you assigned?”

“Yes. It was meant to be factual.”

“So, your claim that this essay to be a threat to another student doesn’t hold up. You asked him to write about something that actually happened!”

My teacher looked confused. “He didn’t write it in the past tense! He wrote it in the present tense. One could also read it as being future tense. That would be a threat! It definitely isn’t a reminiscence… it couldn’t have happened!”

The Principal turned to me. “Son, you were asked to write about a ‘happy moment,’ as you put it. You instead wrote it, as Ms. Taylor claims, in future tense. Is that true?”

“Mr. Yank,” I explained. “I was asked to relive a happy moment. How else do you relive something without experiencing it happening to you as it happens? I was thinking about one or more of the happy times that I spent with Kris, and…”

“Kris… the girl in this story is named Kristen. Is that who you wrote about?”

My teacher interrupted. “He’s writing about Kristen Swift. You are familiar with her and her family. They are rich and very important in this town and state. If they were to find out that he threatened their daughter…”

“Please, Reneé. Let’s take this one step at a time.” Mr. Yank turned to me and asked, “Is Ms. Taylor correct that you are referring to Kristen Swift?”

“Yes. Kris and I…”

“And this is meant to be a reenactment of a moment you spent together, or a fantasy about you spending time with her?”

“You’re letting him get off with rape!” my teacher screamed.

“Please compose yourself. I’m not letting anybody off with anything. I want to know what the boy’s intentions were.” Mr. Yank turned back to me. “Please answer my question.”

“Mr. Yankovitz, I’m not sure I remember exactly what I wrote in that essay. To tell you the truth, I was actually thinking about a few of the happy times that Kristen and I shared, wondering which was my favorite. I honestly cannot remember exactly what I wrote, but I know that whatever I wrote was a memory of something that the two of us actually did.”

“Indeed?” Mr. Yank seemed surprised.

“Impossible!” Ms. Taylor spat.

My mother interrupted. “Excuse me, Mr. Yankovitz. My son has been in a relationship with Kristen Swift since September. I am sure that they are—what do you call them nowadays?—an ‘item’ around the school.”

There was a knock on the door, surprising everybody. Instead of answering the door, Mr. Yank looked angry as he picked up his phone. “Sylvia, you know I’m in conference…”

“Stan, there’s a teacher and a student here who claim to be involved with the situation in your office. Also, Ms. Tomago is upset about something…”

“Let’s leave Ms. Tomago out of this. Send the teacher and student in.”

The door opened immediately, and Mr. Proilet came into the room with Kristen.

“Kris!” I said, feeling much relieved that my beloved was here during this nightmare.

Kristen didn’t say anything, but came up to me and hugged me. “Mr. Proilet told me what was going on, and said that we should come in here and…”

“Excuse me, everybody!” Mr. Yank demanded order. Everybody quieted down. Once order was reestablished, Mr. Yank turned to Kristen and said, “May I assume that you are Kristen Swift?”

“I am,” she answered.

“It seems you came at a good time,” Mr. Yank said. “James and his mother here have stated that you and he are, as his mother put it, an ‘item?’”

“Jim Crittenhouse is the person I intend to marry,” Kristen said, causing me to blanch. “If that’s what you mean by being an ‘item,’ then yes, that’s correct.”

“I see,” Mr. Yank, trying to stifle a grin. “Ms. Swift, it has been alleged by somebody that this story can be construed to be a threat made to you. Another person alleges that this is actually a reminiscence of some event that happened in the past.”

“Who wrote it?” Kristen asked, smirking and obviously knowing the answer.

“James Crittenhouse.”

“I see,” Kristen said. “Do you mind if I take a look at it?”

“Please just read it, Ms. Swift,” Mr. Yank answered. He glanced at my English teacher, who looked as if she just swallowed a bad oyster. “I don’t want people to mishandle potential evidence.”

Kristen moved over to Mr. Yank’s desk and read the papers on the table. “Oh, that’s sweet! That was New Year’s Day! He tied me up and kissed me!”

“This actually happened?”

Kristen shrugged. “Not quite. I made the first move, not him. I tied him up first. He wasn’t interested in tying me up…”

“I think I get the picture, Ms. Swift,” Mr. Yank interrupted. “In general, this is an accurate retelling of a happy moment in his life?”

Kristen turned to me. “Oh, Jim! It was a happy moment for me, too!” Ignoring the others in the room, she lunged toward me and took me into a big hug.

“I think that whether or not this is a threat to Ms. Swift is moot,” the Principal pointed out.

“That’s not the only charge…” Ms. Taylor yelled.

It was my music teacher’s turn to interrupt. “The other serious charge is my so-called berating of Reneé in front of a class of students. As a matter of fact, the only people that were present were myself, Reneé, and Jim, here. He notified me that he wouldn’t be able to lead the jazz band after school and asked me to take his place. When I went to find out why he was on detention, I learned that Reneé doubled his detention merely because he came to me—before detention was to start—to ask to lead his class. He did not ask me to intercede, and in fact, he specifically asked me not to do so. I did not berate Reneé, but merely informed her that she couldn’t punish him additionally for something which we both knew for a fact to be false. I was willing to bring that matter to your attention at that time.”

Mr. Yank turned to Ms. Taylor and asked, “Is this true?”

My English teacher looked a bit flustered as she answered, “I asked Jim to stay after class and he ignored me and he went to a teacher where he is a bit of a teacher’s pet…”

Mr. Yank interrupted. “All students are allowed ten minutes between the end of school and start of detention to take care of things they need to do or to get to their place of detention. According to Mr. Proilet, he apparently wasn’t late for detention, but you insisted on doubling his punishment. That seems pretty arbitrary and vindictive…”

“Vindictive?” Ms. Taylor said indignantly.

“We’ll address this at some other time. From what I see of the evidence presented, you have deliberately misread what the boy wrote in his essay…”

“Did you see the words he wrote? He was explicitly describing sexual scenes! Him… and that senior! He tied her up… he intended to rape her… they both admitted it!”

“Are you now accusing James of lewd and lascivious behavior?” Mr. Yank asked, raising his eyebrows.

My English teacher thought that over and the terms seemed to sound perfect for her. “Yes.”

“This story takes place in a private residence, not on the school campus,” Mr. Yank pointed out. “In addition, I see nothing more lewd or lascivious in this story than anything written by D.H. Lawrence or even Robert Heinlein,” Mr. Yank pointed out. “I might also point out that both authors can be found in the school library. If it is permissible for such writings to be read in this school, I cannot see why such prose, written as nicely as James seems to have done, cannot be written.”

My English teacher was speechless.

“As I was saying, you have deliberately and now repeatedly misread what the boy wrote in his essay. If you didn’t want the boy to write what he did, you should have been more explicit in your instructions to the boy. After all, English is supposed to be your subject. In addition, it is obvious that you were misrepresenting what Mr. Proilet did when James asked his teacher to take over his class for him.”

The Principal looked at me and Kristen and said, “This boy has shown no signs of disrespect. He has only interrupted to correct an obvious misstatement, and, in general, has comported himself in a most adult manner. I see no evidence to suggest that he is, in fact, a disruption to any class! Mr. Proilet also reminded me that this young man actually teaches an extra-curricular jazz band that received a standing ovation at the Christmas concert a couple of weeks ago.”

The Principal turned to my mother and said, “Mrs. Cummings, please accept my apologies for having you come here today. This seems to have been a matter of misunderstanding. Your support of your son is commendable.”

It was time for the Principal to turn to Ms. Taylor, but his intercom sounded again. “Mr. Yankovitz, I have Mr. and Mrs. Swift out here and they are insistent on meeting with you about something that seems to be a matter of life and death.”

The Principal looked at Mr. Proilet and sighed. Kristen simply smirked, and Ms. Taylor looked ashen.

The door flew open. “Excuse me, Stanley,” Mr. Swift barged in. “I canceled a meeting in Denver and chartered a flight here. Somebody told me that there was a possible physical threat of violence against my daughter!”

The Principal sighed. It was clear that the situation was completely out of hand. “There’s no threat against your daughter, Daniel. It was a simple misunderstanding.”

Kristen’s father wasn’t easily mollified. “I also understand that my future son-in-law has been charged with a severe crime. If this is the case, I will ensure that my lawyer comes over here and…”

Again, the Principal looked at Kristen and me. At the mention of a lawyer, even Ms. Taylor looked cowed. The Swifts were well-known in town.

I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, Mr. Swift?”

“I’m sorry, Jim. Hello, Kristen. I’m sorry we’re a little late…”

“Excuse me, Mr. Swift?” I repeated.

“Yes, Jim. Sorry…”

“Thank you for coming out here. I really appreciate it, and so does Kris,” I said. “I think the matter has already been resolved. It seems that everything was a misunderstanding. Isn’t that right, Mr. Yankovitz?”

“Exactly,” Mr. Yank answered. “In fact, it appears that Jim has been behaving himself exactly as we would hope a student would act. It seems that an accidental misinterpretation…” He glared at Ms. Taylor as he spoke those last two words. “An accidental misinterpretation of things led Ms. Taylor to mistakenly think that there may be a problem where, indeed, there was none. I’d further like to state that in this school district, we place the safety of our students at the forefront, and take all such claims very seriously. The fact that this was a simple misunderstanding just means that we didn’t belittle a real problem before it could turn into a disaster.”

Kristen’s parents looked at Kristen, who was now sitting on my lap and holding my hand. Kristen smiled back at them. Her father then turned to the Principal, nodded, and said, “Very well, Stanley. I’m happy that the situation wasn’t as grave as I was informed.” Kristen’s father then moved over to where Kristen was sitting and bent down to kiss her. Kristen hugged her father in response. He then shook my hand as Kristen’s mom hugged and kissed her daughter, and she gave me a handshake as well.

“I’ve got to charter a flight back to Denver,” Mr. Swift said. “Stanley, maybe we’ll meet again sometime at the country club.” The Swifts then left the office.

The Principal glared at Kristen and me. “As I was saying… Oh, hell. What was I saying?”

“Mr. Yankovitz? May I say something?”

“Yes, James.”

“My name is Jim, not James,” I corrected the Principal. I heard that hated name a few times today, and it was starting to get on my nerves. “I’m sorry if anything I did caused any problems. If I have done anything to offend Ms. Taylor or to disrupt her class, I truly apologize. Since she has put me on detention, I have made every effort to be quiet and not do anything that could possibly disrupt her class.”

“Jim, that’s not enough,” the Principal answered. “Not participating in class can also be disruptive.”

“I am participating, but since Ms. Taylor complained that I was being disruptive, I’ve been extra careful so that nothing I do can be mistakenly taken as being a problem. I actually enjoy English class.”

The Principal said, “I think there has been enough drama here for one day. Mrs. Cummings, I again apologize for having to bring you down here today. Ms. Swift… Kristen? I thank you for helping to sort this problem out, although calling your father might have been a bit unnecessary. Mr. Proilet, I also thank you for helping out.” It was very obvious that Ms. Taylor was omitted from the recipients of Mr. Yank’s thanks.

The Principal then turned to Ms. Taylor and said, “Reneé, do you see any more need for Jim to remain on detention?”

The English teacher looked completely defeated. “No,” she said, quietly.

Inside my head, I shouted, “YES!” I was happy, but I made it a point not to gloat. Ms. Taylor already achieved a bit of a victory when I apologized to her, especially since I still didn’t think I did anything wrong.

As we were leaving, Mr. Yank quietly asked Ms. Taylor to remain behind for a few moments.

My music teacher shook my hand and introduced himself to my mother. “Jim, I told Kristen what was happening when I heard Reneé talking with Ms. Tomago in the faculty room. I also decided that Mr. Yank might be a better arbiter for this situation. Mrs. Cummings, I’m proud to have Jim in my class. He’s extremely talented, and he goes beyond just being a student and actually helps the other students learn. You should be proud to have raised such a well-behaved and talented young man.”

My mother stood speechless at Mr. Proilet’s remarks, but found her voice. “My son is indeed a very special person. Thank you for what you’ve done in this situation. I never doubted Jim for a moment, but at one point, I was afraid that something bad would happen to him unfairly.”

With a serious look on his face, Mr. Proilet said, “I would never permit that, Mrs. Cummings. If anything happened to Jim, I would have fought it tooth and nail. I would even resign my position if such an injustice were allowed to stand.”

My mouth hung open in shock when I heard my music teacher make that last remark.

Kristen just beamed at me and hugged me.

After the situation with Mr. Yank in the front office, Kristen drove us to the apartment. “Your father came all the way from Denver? When did you call him?”

“Right after school, when Mr. Proilet told me what was going on. Daddy wasn’t in Denver, he just canceled a meeting there. He actually canceled it a few days ago.”

“Oh,” I said, realizing that Mr. Swift didn’t really lie, but he definitely stretched the truth a bit. I noticed that Kristen sometimes did the exact same thing. “So, he’s going to Denver tonight?”

“No,” answered Kristen. “Daddy and Mom are going to Chicago, to a certain hotel. It’s their anniversary, and they always celebrate it at that same hotel, in the same room. It has a special sentimental value for the two of them.”

“That sounds romantic,” I said, smiling.

“You might even know the room number, Jim,” Kristen said with a grin. “You were there a few months ago!”

I looked at my sweetheart in awe. Every day, this little vixen manages to surprise me.

As Kristen and I departed for the apartment, I thought about what my mother said to me. It was only a couple of months ago that she was suspicious about me being a nefarious drug dealer. Now she told me that she no longer worried about me, and supported me completely and without question when she was told that I was acting up at school. I’m not sure what changed her attitude toward me, but I am damn glad that I didn’t need to use any of my lucky tickets to change her mind.

The truth was that my mother was my counterweight in the world. The two of us shared a closeness due to the abuse we sustained at the hands of her first husband, my father. My outburst to Merry on New Year’s Eve about my father seemed to open me up to considering our closeness. Yes, Mom worried that I might be dealing drugs in the past, but I realized now that she didn’t want to see me walking in the same footsteps as my father.

My mother loved me very much. I knew that her love would never fade, nor would she ever love anybody else that way. In the same way, I loved my mother, and my total unwillingness to take advantage of her using my tickets was a good example of it. She was the only person about whom I ever made such a commitment. I even managed to follow through on that commitment!

I wondered if, when I have a child—maybe even with my lovely Kristen—will I be able to love that child as whole-heartedly and unselfishly as my mother loves me? It would be a pretty tall order.

I noticed that I wasn’t being very communicative, so I asked Kristen, “What’s on the agenda for tonight?”

“First, you will put on a lingerie show for me. I’m getting even for those silly polka-dot boxers you made me wear. Then, I get you home by ten o’clock. It’s a school night.”

I sighed, and found to my relief that the lingerie that she wanted me to wear was really men’s briefs, although she also insisted that I wear some sort of corset.

We ended up giggling uncontrollably and fucking each other silly. I got home at 10:15, but my parents never made any complaint.

* * *

My English class had a substitute teacher for a week before Ms. Taylor returned to class. Nobody ever said anything about it, and most students probably thought that she was sick with a severe cold or something. Of course, Kristen and I, as well as some of the faculty were suspicious that this was a mini “vacation” that was actually requested of her. Eventually, Ms. Taylor would transfer to a school in one of the other suburbs of Chicago during my junior year.

A few days after the incident, Ms. Tomago, the Assistant Principal, was transferred from our high school to be a teacher at an elementary school downstate. She would claim that the new job was more in line with what she wanted to do with her life. I would find out later that her transfer was a direct result of what happened in school that day.

Through the rest of my stay in high school, Mr. Yank would always go out of his way to greet me when we passed in the hallways.

Sometimes, it pays to be a good student.

Chapter 13—Party Planning

I’ve lived long enough to have learned,

The closer you get to the fire

The more you get burned,

But that won’t happen to us—

Because it’s always been a matter of trust.

Billy Joel

A Matter of Trust

On Tuesday, Kristen took a day off from school to meet her parents in Chicago. She told me it was something to do with her inheritance, which was going to be fully hers in just a few weeks.

I would miss Kristen, but Patty picked me up in the morning. I didn’t give Patty a chance to stop her car when I came running out of the house.

“You look happy today, for a guy whose love of his life is a hundred miles away,” Patty observed.

I thought about this already. “Kristen’s trip to Austria made me realize that there are other things to life than having to have Kris with me every minute of every day,” I explained. “Today, I have the opportunity to maybe talk to you or Sherry in the lunchroom. I can also work on one of my pet projects that I most definitely can not work on at Kristen’s place.”

“Pet project?” Patty asked.

“It’s a surprise for Kristen,” I said. “So, of course, I cannot work on it over there.”

“Is it something for her birthday?”

“Hopefully,” I said, hoping that I could get it finished in time for a party.

“That sounds cool. Have you given any thought to throwing Kristen a party?”

I sighed. “What kind of a party do you give a millionaire who has everything?”

Patty stopped dead at an intersection and looked at me sternly. “Don’t you ever think that of Kristen! Until she met you, she told me she only had one other boyfriend in her life. She was lonely when she met you, you know.”

“She has me now,” I pointed out, a bit sheepishly.

“I don’t know much about that other boyfriend, but he made a hell of an impression on her,” Patty said, once again driving. “He must be a tough act to follow.”

“I met that guy,” I said, not knowing how much Patty knew about Kristen and her brother.

“I’m surprised she told you who it was. You’ve met him?”

“I met him a couple of months ago,” I said. “He’s a great guy, actually. They still like each other very much.”

“You don’t seem very jealous of him,” Patty said, narrowing her eyes.

“I’m not. We actually got along nicely. He doesn’t live around here any more.”

“I’ve never seen her dating,” Patty said. “Of course, until this year, we didn’t move through the same crowds.”

I didn’t add much and Patty continued to drive.

Patty said, “I know for a fact that Kristen really enjoys the simple things. Your fish-hook necklace really impressed her, you know. She also told me about the watch chain she made for you. That’s Kristen’s style. She doesn’t spend money just to impress people, and she isn’t impressed by money, either.”

I nodded. Patty pointed out something that I was avoiding trying to think about. “So, what do you think I should do for a birthday party?”

“I’m not sure, Jim,” Patty said, pulling into the school parking lot. “I suggest you trust your instincts. Almost everything you do for Kristen screams to her how much you love her. You come up with great ideas and you instinctively do the one thing that only you can do best.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said, smiling.

Camille was waiting at the front of the school in her regular spot. She smiled as Patty and I approached. “Poor baby. No Kristen today?”

“Nope. I got a ride with this ravishing red head instead,” I said with a grin.

Camille giggled in response. “He’s got a girl in every port!”

“Cut that out, you two!” Despite her protest, Patty was giggling as well.

“I think Jim is a real Romeo. How many other tenth graders have a bunch of senior co-eds who are willing to do things for him?” Camille asked.

Patty smiled. “I was just telling Romeo here that he has great romantic ideas. We were talking about what we could do for Kristen’s eighteenth birthday.”

I noticed the plural “we” in Patty’s sentence. Somehow, I felt better that Patty seemed willing to sign up to help out in whatever way she could.

“I would really like to do something on a grandiose scale,” I said. “Something that Kristen herself can’t do. I just don’t have any idea what I can do.”

“Well, count me in if you need any help,” Camille offered.

I moved over and kissed Camille on the cheek, a move that was noticed by a few students.

“Thank you, Romeo!” Camille quipped.

I sighed, bade farewell to the two seniors, and headed for home room. I heard the name “Romeo” being repeated behind me. I wondered which nickname was worse: Oogie or Romeo?

* * *

Lunch period consisted of Sherry and Patty offering me ideas on what we could possibly do for Kristen’s eighteenth birthday. Sherry seemed pleased as punch to be included in the deliberations. There were now three people who were willing to help me plan something.

“How about renting a hall and inviting, like, lots of people?” Sherry suggested.

I pointed out how much that sort of thing would cost. Unlike Kristen, spending money was a bit more difficult for me. I wanted extravagance, but I did have financial limitations.

“And what would you do for entertainment?” Patty pointed out. “A rock band costs money!”

I was thinking along the same lines, but now Patty’s remark hit home. Maybe a rock band would cost money, but there was already a band full of people who loved Kristen and might be able to provide at least a few song numbers. With a proper sound system, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find a student deejay to play songs, either. How much could that cost?

Suddenly, ideas were starting to come to mind.

“Jim, are you there?” Patty asked, noticing my distraction.

“Patty, you’re a genius!”

“Huh? Me? That’s Camille’s department,” Patty said.

“A rock band!” I exclaimed, more possibilities coming to me now. “That’s a fucking great idea! Now, we just need a venue.”

“What rock band?” Sherry asked.

“Sherry, I’m the conductor of a kick-ass jazz band,” I said. “There’s no reason we can’t play rock and roll!”

“You still need a location… or are you thinking about using the school?” Patty asked.

“Hmmm,” I said, thinking. “Actually, the school might be a good idea,” I said. “I think we should consider that only as a last resort. I’m in good with Mr. Yank and Mr. Proilet, but I don’t want to wear out my welcome just yet.”

“So, where will you hold the party?” Sherry asked.

I smiled, the final piece of the puzzle finally fitting into place. “The big problem is money, right?”

The two girls nodded their heads.

“So we find somebody with money!”

“Who? Kristen?” Sherry asked.

“No. Kristen’s not a possibility,” I said, smiling broader now. “Her parents, on the other hand…”

“Ooh,” Patty said. “Her parents would help out in a second!”

“Cool!” Sherry said.

The subject changed, and the two girls were talking about something or other while my mind was working logistics.

* * *

I entered the school’s front office, having gotten an office pass from the substitute teacher in English class.

I smiled at the receptionist. “Is Mr. Yank available?”

“Mr. Crittenhouse,” the receptionist recognized me, smiling. “I hope this visit isn’t as disruptive as the one earlier this week.”

“I just need some information,” I answered, also smiling. “I’m trying to put together a birthday party for Kristen Swift, and I wondered if Mr. Yank has her father’s business phone number.”

The receptionist said, “A birthday party?”

“Her eighteenth,” I answered. “I figured her father might be planning something, and I was working on some ideas of my own, but I want to talk to him somewhere where I know that Kris won’t be around…”

The receptionist looked toward Mr. Yank’s office, whose door was closed. “He’s in there with Ms. Tomago right now, and I don’t think this is an opportune time for anybody—especially you—to interrupt him. Let me see if I can get that information for you.” She left toward the back of the office.

A few minutes passed and another secretary came out. “Are you James… sorry… Jim Crittenhouse?”

“Yes.”

“I have the information you requested,” she said, handing me two pieces of paper.

The first was a library pass, and the second was a piece of memo pad with the phone number for Swift Holdings, where Kristen’s father was the founder and chairman.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said politely.

I took my cue from the hall pass and left for the library, which was just a few doors down the hall. I showed my pass to the librarian, who took it without really looking at it.

I was surprised to see Camille sitting at one of the desks.

“Hi, Cammy! Do you live here?”

Camille looked up from her book and smiled. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have English?”

“Ms. Taylor is out today,” I explained. “The substitute gave me a front office pass, and when I was in the front office, the receptionist gave me a library pass for the rest of the period.”

“Why the front office pass?”

“I needed Kristen’s father’s business number. I need help planning Kristen’s birthday party, and I figured that he might be planning something as well. I can let him worry about renting a hall or whatever he wants to do, and get whatever family or friends that he’d like to get. I wanted to see what I could contribute.”

Camille looked impressed. “That’s a great idea, Jim!”

“Kristen doesn’t have much family,” I said. “There’s her brother Will, and he’s at college. I bet we could have him come out here to celebrate his sister’s eighteenth birthday.”

This brought a thoughtful look from Camille. “Is that a good idea? What is the relationship between Will and Kristen?”

“Will worships the ground Kristen walks on,” I said. “I met him in Boston last year.”

“If you say so,” Camille shrugged. “I remember…”

I knew what Camille was going to say. “It’s not like that. They really do love one another, Cammy.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Jim.”

“Anyway, I think I can get the people from the jazz band to play a special set for Kristen,” I said. “I’ll need to ask them privately tomorrow. Maybe I will be able to get Amy to distract Kris for a bit tomorrow.”

Camille smiled as she heard me thinking aloud.

“Enough about Kristen,” I said, finally winding down. “What are you reading?”

“Dostoevsky,” Camille answered. ”Crime and Punishment. A classic.”

“An assignment for school?”

“Nah. Light reading.”

I wasn’t familiar with the work, and her dismissive comment would only make sense to me a few years later when I actually was assigned to read the book. She was doing some heady reading for a high school senior.

“Kris seemed a little jealous on Friday when we talked for a couple of hours. Since she’s out of town, would you like to talk some more this afternoon?”

Camille thought for a bit. “No. I need to take my mother to the doctor’s today. Annual physical.”

“Oh, well. I thought I’d try. People expect to see me with a blonde, you know.”

“I’m not your Goddess, Jim,” Camille pointed out. “I mean, I love you and…” Camille paused, apparently shocked at what she just said.

“What?”

“I mean… I love… shit!” Camille looked upset.

I was very concerned. “What’s wrong, Camille?”

Camille looked at me, saying nothing for a couple of minutes. Finally, she said, quietly, “Fuck. I’ll take you home today. Come with me to the doctor’s office.”

“With your mother?”

Camille sighed and nodded.

“Sure.”

There were only a few more minutes left of school.

“Let’s go now,” Camille said.

“Now? The bell hasn’t rung!”

“Won’t matter,” Camille said. “Perk of being in the Honor Society.”

“What?” I asked.

Camille didn’t answer. Instead, she dragged me out of the library, leaving her book on the table. The librarian saw us but said nothing.

We were alone in the parking lot, and Camille went straight to her car and said, “Come on, get in.”

Once inside the car, Camille said, “Jim, something happened after our conversation the other day.”

“What?” I asked.

“Remember how I said that I was drawn to you?”

“Yeah…” I said, confused.

“It’s stronger now. Sometimes when I’m with you, it gets really strong. Like just now in the library.”

“You’re drawn to me?”

“Jim, I’ve never, ever loved anybody,” Camille said, starting her car. There were tears in her eyes. “Not romantically. I’ve fucked, sucked, licked and done whatever with countless people—some who I can’t even remember—but I never loved anybody.”

“How about Patty?” I asked.

“Patty likes me, but I think she pities me. That’s not love,” Camille said, starting to sob.

I didn’t think Patty’s relationship with Camille was based on pity, but I said nothing. Luckily, Lake Shore Point wasn’t far away. Camille pulled in and parked the car. She turned to me and said, “Jim, what I feel for you, I’ve felt for nobody else. I know you don’t love me and… for some reason, I don’t care.”

“You love me?” I asked, stupidly. “Why?”

“I don’t know! I know you didn’t do anything,” Camille said. “I felt it strongly when we were here last week, and it got stronger when I kissed you last week. I’m…” Camille’s voice faltered and was replaced by sobs.

I didn’t know what to do with this. Girls were falling in love with me, and there was no explanation about what was happening. Back in September, Patty told me that Kristen loved me, and then a couple of weeks later, Sherry told me the same thing. Now I was hearing it from Camille. What was happening to me?

Another more interesting question was, if Camille felt this way last week, was it a good idea that we were back here at Lake Shore Point? I liked Camille as a friend. She helped heal a rift between Kristen and me and she was one of the smartest people I knew. I knew about her reputation, although I was taken aback that both Kristen and Patty seemed to know that she was bisexual.

“Camille, it’s probably not a good idea for us to be here…”

“It’s OK,” Camille answered, sniffing. “I’m not about to rape you, you know. I’m quite capable of controlling my actions. I think it’s those damned tickets. It’s the only explanation.”

Deep inside me, despite my concern about my friend, a soothing thought came into my mind. “Calm down, Camille,” I said.

Camille nodded and started to take deep breaths.

I saw my friend start to calm down. “Kiss me,” I said.

“Huh?” Camille said, confused.

Nevertheless, she moved closer to me, her lips pursed.

As our lips met, I kissed Camille. I felt her tongue touch my lips, but I knew instinctively that this was not the time for that. I kept my lips closed, and Camille noticed and stopped.

We continued kissing for a minute and finally, Camille broke away from it.

“What did you do?” Camille asked, amazed.

“I just kissed you,” I answered.

“That feels much better,” Camille said. “It’s as if this hungry need that was there is now gone!”

I smiled. “I’m happy that Doctor Jim was able to help!”

The two of us sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Jim?” Camille asked.

“What, Camille?” I asked softly.

“How did you know what to do?”

I shrugged. The idea just popped into my head, and I wasn’t particularly sure that I knew the answer to that question.

“I haven’t felt this calm in years,” Camille said. “Not since Debbie…”

“Forget about Debbie for now,” I said soothingly.

Camille closed her eyes. When she opened them, I saw a new expression on her face. “What did you do?”

I shrugged again. “I kissed my friend.”

“Jim… I love you! Not like Kristen does, but like a friend! I have never had a real friend.”

“Patty loves you,” I said. “So does Lynette.”

“Perhaps, but I never really trusted their love.”

“I think that’s what you were missing, Camille. Trust.”

“Huh?”

“Remember last week when I asked you to trust me?” I said, only now understanding things as I was saying them. “You did. I think that was the first time you really trusted somebody. I could have made you a slave with the tickets, just as your sister did. I didn’t do it. You trusted me, and I passed your test.”

“Trust?”

“Trust,” I repeated. “When I asked you about Patty before, you said she pitied you. She loves you! You just never trusted her motives!”

“It can’t be that simple!” Camille’s eyes were wide with amazement.

“Do you really love me?” I asked.

“I think… no… I know I love you.”

“It’s not a romantic love, though. Right?”

Camille thought about it. “No. A few minutes ago, I could have sworn it was, but now… no, it’s not romantic!”

I smiled. “Do you feel as mixed up as you were before?”

Camille actually smiled. “No, Jim! I feel wonderful!”

“You need to learn to trust people, Camille,” I said. “People such as Patty and me love you and want to help you.”

The cheerleader nodded her head slowly. “It’s not going to be easy, you know.”

“It never is, but trust pays off handsomely in the end, Cammy.”

“May I have another kiss, Jim?”

“Of course, if you use the right word?”

“Which one?”

“What’s the most important thing for you right now?”

“Trust?” Camille asked, not sure where I was going.

“It’s something that I learned the hard way myself, Cammy. What are we?”

“Friends!” Camille said happily.

“Friends!” I repeated.

The two of us kissed once more. This time, there was no tongue trying to probe my lips. Instead, we shared an intimate kiss as two close and very dear friends.

When we finally broke it off, I looked at the clock on Camille’s dashboard. “What time is your mother’s appointment?”

“Five,” Camille answered. There were about forty-five minutes to go.

“Think you can drop me off at my house first?”

“No problem,” Camille grinned. “You only live a couple of blocks from me.”

Camille started up her engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

When we got to my driveway, Camille kissed me briefly and then said, “I’m going to need to have a long talk with Patty tonight. Thank you, Jim!”

“Thank you, friend!”

* * *

At home, I thought about what just transpired between Camille and me.

I didn’t tell Camille everything that I realized, but I knew that she was intelligent enough to put in the missing pieces herself.

Camille’s public life was a lie for a good many years. She was not the nymphomaniac whore that her sister turned her into. She was not really the person she showed to all her so-called friends.

A lot of this she would have to discover herself. For now, she needed to trust some people. Like Patty, life had not been easy for Camille.

It wasn’t an easy lesson for me, and I was just now learning it, even though I’d experienced this for months.

I somehow earned Patty’s trust before she could tell me about the experience that traumatized her. I needed to earn Kristen’s trust before she fell in love with me. I showed Sherry that I trusted her when I gave her that note that I had written to Kristen. Camille needed to learn to trust somebody to understand that she had friends.

Trust was a powerful thing.

Could it somehow be the secret of the tickets?

* * *

The next morning started out as a day that could only be described as “raw.” It was dark, dismal, and cold. It felt as if it would rain or snow any minute. I looked out the front window and scowled. I hated this sort of weather. Unfortunately, we got a lot of it living in the Midwest.

There was a knock on our door, and when I opened it, I was greeted by the loveliest blonde Goddess who ever walked the face of the earth. I could swear that I could hear birds chirping behind her as though it were the first spring day in a scene out of the movie ”Bambi.”

One smile from Kristen could probably melt a tornado away!

“What are you gawking at?” Kristen asked, amused at my reaction to seeing her.

I didn’t answer, but merely sighed. “How was Chicago?”

“Busy,” Kristen answered. “Lots of things that I needed to hear. Nothing is official until I’m eighteen, but my mother is starting to put things in motion.”

My response was a shrug. Money matters never bothered me. I mean, if one has no money, then there’s very little to bother somebody.

“Where’s your case?” Kristen asked, a little put off that I didn’t invite her inside, nor was I ready to go out with her to drive to the school.

“Oh!” I said. I turned and found my attaché case. “Thanks for reminding me. I have homework to hand in.”

“Are you ready to leave?” Kristen asked.

“Sure,” I said, moving out.

Kristen yelled “good-bye” to my mother and Merry, and I inwardly chided myself for not having invited Kristen inside the house.

In the Camaro, Kristen pulled onto the main street and headed toward the high school. She asked, “Did you miss me?”

“Of course,” I answered.

“So, what did you do while I was gone?”

“I talked a bit with Camille again.”

Kristen did not respond to that statement. I knew that she still harbored a little bit of jealousy from last week.

I decided it was time to get that out in the open. “Camille loves me,” I said, flatly.

“I see,” Kristen said, an edge coming to her voice.

“Not that way, Kris!” I said quickly. “I mean, she finally told me that she loves me like a friend. In fact, she specifically said that she didn’t like me romantically.”

Kristen shook her head. “She’s always been a friend…”

“No, Kris!” I said. “You don’t get it. Up until just recently, Camille never trusted anybody—and I mean that she trusted nobody! You can be a friend to people, but you’ll never feel that you have a friend until you learn to trust that person.”

“Patty loved her as a friend,” Kristen pointed out.

“And Camille never trusted that love. Camille thought that Patty actually pitied her. Camille never told Patty much about her previous sex life, even though it was common knowledge around the school, apparently. And Patty never told her about her…” I paused, wondering how much I should say. “Well, something that happened to Patty a couple of years ago.”

“That asshole that raped her?” Kristen asked.

“Exactly,” I smiled. “Patty told you, but she never told Camille. Camille put some of the pieces together, but Patty never confided in Camille.”

“And that’s all that happened? Camille has learned to trust people?”

“Yes, Kristen,” I said, softly. “After all, you never fell in love with me until I earned your trust.”

Kristen parked in the school lot and turned off the ignition. She sat silently for a minute or so and then finally turned to me and said, “What you’ve said makes sense, Jim. How did you get so smart?”

I blushed at the compliment. “I’m not that smart. I only realized why you started loving me after I was talking with Camille. As I was telling Camille, it occurred to me that it was the same between Patty and me, and you and me. Our friendships were based on trust.”

Warm lips met mine and I received one of Kristen’s erection special kisses. After we broke the kiss, Kristen snickered at me and said, “Try walking with that into school!”

I was disappointed when I got to the school entrance and didn’t see Patty or Camille. Kristen went to her homeroom, which was on the second floor, and for one of the first times during that school year, I found myself alone before home room. It was a strange feeling.

Suddenly, I saw Sherry near the entrance. My smile brightened considerably and I walked toward her.

Sherry noticed me and waited for me to join her. It was close to the start of class, but there were still a couple of minutes.

“Hi, Jim. Is Kristen still in Chicago?”

I shook my head. “Kris already left for homeroom. I thought I’d be out here by myself, but I found you. Can I walk you to class?”

“Certainly,” Sherry answered, her cheeks dimpling as she smiled.

We walked together toward our home rooms, which were a few doors down from each other. I left Sherry at her door, and then headed for my own home room.

At lunch, I found out that both Patty and Camille were both absent from school that day.

Seventh period, and after a run across the school, I was able to get Amy to agree to distract Kristen for a bit before the start of jazz band.

Most of the band agreed to help out with entertainment for Kristen’s party, and I told them that I’d alert them about information as I got it by relaying it through Mr. Proilet.

Everybody in the band noticed Amy and Kristen arrive late. I smiled at the pair, and Amy blushed at me, and silently approached her piano.

We started working on the material that I put together for the Spring Concert.

* * *

The next morning, I found Patty and Camille at their customary spot in front of the school. They were talking animatedly with each other.

When they noticed me, Camille came over to me with a determined look in her eyes and kissed me right on the mouth. I kissed back, happy that the kiss wasn’t as passionate as the first one we shared on Wednesday.

Once I broke for air, Patty kissed me the same.

I was quite breathless afterward, and Kristen just shrugged her shoulders and showed her friends what a real kiss was. It made my blood rush into the very organ that Kristen obviously targeted.

Looking up after Kristen’s kiss, I noticed that I was the center of attention of quite a lot of students, many of whom I didn’t know very well. I ended up feeling my face turn red as some good-natured cat calls came our way.

* * *

I was able to reach Kristen’s father on Friday by taking some time off from third period music class (with permission) and calling him from the pay phone outside the front office.

A secretary answered, and told me that Kristen’s father was very busy, but when I mentioned that I wanted to talk about Kristen, he came on the line almost immediately.

“Hi, Jim!”

“Hello, Mr. Swift.”

“Call me Daniel, son.”

I winced at the “son” designation. I was still more than a bit surprised at his announcement to my principal that I was his “future son-in-law.”

“Um, Daniel, this isn’t an emergency. If you are busy…”

“I always have time for you. What’s on your mind?”

“I was thinking of planning something for Kristen’s birthday, and wondered if you made any plans and if we could somehow work together…”

“I left most of that to Charley,” Mr. Swift answered, referring to his wife.

“Do you know what she’ll be doing?”

“Why don’t you give her a call?” Mr. Swift suggested. “I think the hall we rented can fit a hundred people or so easily.”

“I didn’t know Kristen’s family was that large!”

“It’s not,” Mr. Swift said. “We do have some friends. I think we were going to have about two dozen…”

“Do you think I could bring some of our friends? I have people in the band who could play a set…”

“That’s a great idea! I think Charley was trying to arrange for a deejay or something.”

“There are kids in my band who can do that. And we play jazz as well as rock and roll, if that’s your preference…”

I heard a hearty laugh on the other end. “We’re not that old, sonny.” There was more laughter and then he added, “That would be thoughtful. Do you know any Henry Mancini? That’s Charley’s favorite.”

“Our band knows ’Pink Panther’ by heart. We could add ’Moon River’ if you want.”

“Whatever you want, Jim.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Swift… Daniel. I’ll call Mrs. Swift right now.”

“Thank you for calling me, Jim,” Mr. Swift answered. “I think Charley was going to call you tonight about the party. Inviting the jazz band would be a great idea. Where did you ever get that nickname from, anyway?”

This was the first that I realized that Kristen’s parents were at the Christmas concert last month. “It’s a nickname they came up after a recording session I did last year.”

“You have a lot of talent, son,” Mr. Swift said, his voice without any indication that he was just humoring me. “I’ve known many musicians, and I must say that you are quite extraordinary.”

I was at a loss for words. “Um, thank you…”

“I’m not trying to embarrass you, son. Thank you for calling!”

“Thank you, too.”

I hung up, and then got the information that I needed from Mrs. Swift. She seemed quite pleased with the idea of including Kristen’s friends from school as well as the band. I wrote down the basic information on a sheet of paper from my notebook, and got off the phone quickly.

As I headed back past the office, the receptionist smiled at me, giving me a wave. I smiled back and grinned on my way back to my music class.

After the class, I handed Mr. Proilet the information, and he said that he’d pass the information along. I also personally invited Mr. Proilet to the party, and he said that he’d make room in his schedule.

Patty was at lunch during fourth period, and she told Kristen, Sherry, and myself that she and Camille spent the day together, just talking.

It was amazing how much more animated Patty was. She was positively beaming at us, as if a set of flood-gates were suddenly thrown open. I was happy for her, and for Camille. They were always best friends, but never really trusted each other enough to be really open with one another. Having done so, I wondered how my two best friends would change, since change would be inevitable.

I looked longingly at Kristen near the end of lunch, and she raised her eyebrows. There was curiosity in her eyes as to why I seemed so sad when Patty was feeling so bubbly and happy.

The moment that passed between Kristen and me seemed to last an hour. Somehow, our thoughts were shared in that brief moment without a word being spoken. I was feeling a sense of loss. Although I was happy that Patty and Camille finally found a real focus to their lives, I felt a sadness that I wasn’t a part of it.

I didn’t know it then, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Chapter 14—Rehearsals

And I’m bringing you a love that’s true.

So get ready, so get ready.

I’m gonna try to make you love me too.

So get ready, so get ready ‘cause here I come.

The Temptations

Get Ready

Kristen and I decided to spend the weekend with my parents for a change. This ate into the time I hoped that I’d have to finish doing music arrangements, especially now that I was planning the entertainment for Kristen’s party.

Fortunately for me, Merry was delighted to have Kristen around, the big sister that she always wanted and never had. Merry dragged Kristen to her room to talk girl talk, and I took the opportunity to go downstairs and make a telephone call from the den.

“Hello?” Wendy’s mother answered.

“Hello, Mrs. Jones,” I said. “My name is Jim Crittenhouse. I was wondering if Wendy was home, and if so, may I please talk with her?”

Wendy’s mom seemed a bit surprised at my rather polite delivery, something my mother instilled in me at an early age: Politeness didn’t cost you very much, and was often rewarded. “I’ll see if I can get her, Mr. Crittenhouse.”

I smiled and waited and soon Wendy was on the line. “Hey, Jim! Long time no see!”

“Yeah, Wendy,” I said, a bit sorry. “I’ve got my hands full at school, you know.”

“I can imagine,” Wendy said with a laugh. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you are still seeing Gerry,” I said. “I had an idea, but I don’t have his last name or phone number.”

“Of course, we’re still seeing each other, although we’re not dating… well, we’re not seeing other people, but we know that we won’t be seeing each other after this summer…”

I waited. “Could you give me the information, then?” I finally asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Wendy answered. “Gerry Pembroke.” She also gave me his phone number. “What’s up?”

“I’m planning a birthday party for Kris,” I explained. “I want to invite you and Gerry, but I also wanted to know if Gerry could get his band together for the Saturday after next.”

Wendy thought a moment. “He doesn’t have a gig then. What time?”

“Starts at noon, and we don’t have an end time.”

“Sounds like quite a gig.”

“Oh, he won’t be playing all the time. It’s Kristen’s birthday party—having a band will surprise her! We’ll also have a deejay and I’m thinking of getting the jazz band to play a few songs as well.”

“Sounds way cool, Oogie!”

I grinned at the nickname. “Thanks, Wendy. I’ll give Gerry a call.”

“He’s right here and raring to talk to you.”

Wendy put Gerry on the phone and we talked. It seemed that he came up with the same idea, and was thinking of calling me to do the gig for free. I told him that he’d be paid—Kristen’s parents were footing most of the bills.

After a bit of haggling, I pointed out that most of the other members of his band weren’t necessarily Kristen’s friends, and might not be as willing to forgo getting paid. I could see that Gerry was doomed to live the life of the poor musician.

Finally, Gerry insisted, “Jim, that arrangement you put together for ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ has been a big hit for us and has made us a very popular band in this area. The boys have already insisted on doing your party for free once I found out about the party yesterday. We even canceled a paying gig… that’s how interested they are!”

I wasn’t to be convinced. “Gerry, you don’t know Kristen’s parents. Her father will insist. Take the money and buy her a present, but you won’t win against her father.”

“If you say so,” Gerry finally conceded.

“Thanks, Gerry. Give my love to Wendy, and be sure to bring her to the party! Same to the band… invite their girlfriends.”

“And boyfriends,” Gerry laughed. He had a female who played bass. “No problem, maestro!”

I hung the phone up, satisfied. I walked out of the den and passed my mother.

“How long were you on the phone?” my mother asked.

“Ten minutes tops,” I said, knowing that using the phone was a privilege that you didn’t abuse in our house. I looked upstairs and didn’t see Kristen around. “I am planning some surprises for Kristen’s party. Can you guys come and bring Merry?”

“Is it just going to be kids?” my mother asked.

“No, Kristen’s parents are inviting their friends, and asked me to invite some of the kids from school as well, so there will be lots of people of all ages. You guys will fit in fine.”

“OK. Do you have any idea what we should get her?”

“Nothing expensive, mom,” I said, grinning. All of a sudden, I got an interesting idea. “I know Kris likes chocolate covered peanuts. Do you know that place in the mall near the food court?”

“Candy?” my mother asked, a bit astonished.

“It’s one of her favorites, Mom,” I assured her. “I promise you, she’ll love it.”

Our conversation was cut short when we heard Merry bounding down the stairs.

“Mommy!” Merry shouted.

“What’s up, dear?”

“Kristen invited our family over to her birthday party the weekend after next! Her parents are inviting some friends, and wanted you to come.”

“Huh?” my mother asked, completely surprised.

Kristen descended the stairs a bit more gracefully than Merry’s attempt a moment earlier. “My dad always throws a party for my birthday. It’s not a surprise. He asked me to invite your entire family. I know that Jim will be there, and I’d love the rest of you to come as well.”

My mother looked at me as if the world suddenly turned upside down. I just shrugged. “Kristen’s mom likes ’Moon River,’” I said. “The deejay will probably have Andy Williams.”

It was Kristen’s turn to be surprised. “Um… yes she does. How did you know that, Oogie?”

“I played it for her at your house once, remember?” I asked, having prepared for the question and wisely not directly answering it.

Merry didn’t like the fact that the conversation shifted subject slightly. “So, how about it, Mom?”

My mother said, “I’ll have to ask your dad…”

That was Merry’s cue to take off and go into the garage to pester her father. The three of us laughed at her.

“We don’t have anything else planned,” Mom said. “I don’t see any reason why we can’t attend.”

“It will be on Saturday at the American Legion Hall on Main Street, and it starts at noon,” Kristen informed my mother.

My mother was about to say something when Merry stormed back into the living room. “Daddy said ‘yes!’”

“I guess we’re going,” my mother said, grinning.

“Yeah!” Merry shouted, all full of exuberance.

“Hey, Merry,” Kristen said. “Would you like to go to the mall?”

“Sh…” Merry said, and interrupted herself, remembering where she was and she turned sheepishly to my mother, and corrected herself. “I mean, may I, Mommy?”

My mother smiled and said, “Sure, Merry. We’ll be having dinner at six. Can you be back by five so you can help with the salad?”

“That won’t be a problem, Mrs. Cummings,” Kristen answered. “Are there any groceries or anything that you would like me to pick up?”

My mother looked a bit taken aback. “I… um… it never even occurred to me that anybody would…” She stopped and looked thoughtful. “Do you think you can pick up some Italian bread?”

“No problem,” Kristen said. “There’s a bakery near…”

“Oh, pooh!” Mom said. “It’s cheaper at the grocery store.”

“But the bakery has better quality. Your spaghetti sauce deserves the best, Mrs. Cummings.”

Again, my mother was impressed. “If you insist…”

“I insist,” Kristen said firmly.

Kristen, Merry, and I walked out through the foyer and outside. As we approached the car, Kristen turned to me “Jim, I was thinking of taking Merry to Martin’s.”

Martin’s was an upscale dress store in the mall that Kristen was particularly fond of patronizing. That kind of shopping didn’t really appeal to me, and Kristen’s explanation was a cue to me that I might not want to go with the two of them. I said, “I have some arrangements that I’d like to work on, if you don’t really need me.”

Kristen apparently expected my response. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and told Merry to sit in the front.

I felt a little disappointed that I wasn’t with Kristen, but maybe Kris and Merry wanted some private time together. I wouldn’t deny them the opportunity, and I did have quite a lot of work that I made for myself that I needed to get done, especially with a deadline in less than two weeks.

After the Camaro left, my step-father noticed that I was still in the driveway. “Kristen left you?”

“She’s taking Merry to the mall. I have some music to arrange.”

“Will she be around for dinner?” he asked, thinking that there may have been something wrong.

“They’ll both be here at five,” I assured him.

“OK, son.”

I smiled at him, and thought about our relationship. I liked the man, and he was a good husband to my mother. He doted on Merry and although he thought that teenage boys should have a firmer hand guiding them than I preferred, he was ultimately fair.

His daughter, Merry, and I were much closer. I actually enjoyed being around her. I could even say that I loved her. I wondered why I couldn’t apply that verb to my relationship with my step-father. Somehow, we never really clicked that way. As I said, he was a decent man, but I would never call him “father.” There was just too much bad history with another person with that title for me to apply it to any warm blooded creature.

* * *

My plans for a few hours’ time alone writing music were dashed when the doorbell rang about an hour and a half after Kristen left.

My mother answered the door, and then came upstairs after she found herself unsuccessful in arousing me. I was in my bedroom with my headphones on with my electric piano on a stand that my step-father and I put together with spare lumber in the garage during my Christmas vacation.

I was startled when somebody tapped my shoulder, and I turned around quickly, startling my mother. “I’m sorry, Jim. You have more company.”

I ran downstairs to see Camille and Patty in the living room.

“Hey, Jim!” the girls said.

“Hey you guys. What’s up?”

“Is Kristen here?” Patty asked.

“No. She’s at the mall with Merry. Were you looking for her?”

Both girls seemed relieved. “We thought so,” Patty said. “We didn’t see the Camaro and were hoping you’d be home. We rarely see you without Kristen on weekends.”

“What’s up?”

Camille noticed my mother coming down the stairs. “Can we go for a ride?”

I looked at my mother, who only shrugged at me. “I need to be back before five.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Patty said.

I was intrigued and wondered what the two girls were up to.

Camille’s red Corolla was parked in the driveway. Patty indicated that I take the front seat, and she sat behind me.

Camille backed out of the driveway and said, “Jim, the two of us would like to thank you for your efforts to bring Patty and I closer together.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t do much.”

“Bullshit!” Patty said, laughing. “You’re modest, and that’s what we all love about you. We spent all day Thursday just talking. It’s as if we became best friends all over again!”

“You did it yourselves,” I said, not wanting to take the credit.

“Anyway, that’s not why we kidnapped you,” Camille said.

“Kidnap?” I said. I saw humor in Camille’s eyes, though.

“Wendy called Cammy and told her about Kristen’s party,” Patty said, ignoring Camille. “We wanted to know if we could do anything to help?”

“I was trying to write some arrangements for some rock and roll and Henry Mancini songs for the jazz band to play at the party when you girls kidnapped me!”

“Oh,” Patty said, suddenly thoughtful. She seemed as if she was ready to say something, but held her tongue.

I sighed, figuring that I might actually have to end up staying up late a few nights to get them done. There were only two weeks, and two Thursday afternoons for the band to practice. There was also the problem of keeping Kristen from those practice sessions.

Suddenly, another idea formed. “Patty, Cammy… could you hijack Kristen for the next two Thursday afternoons? I would like the band to play some special music for her party and we need to practice.”

Camille frowned. “Cheerleader practice on Thursdays…”

Patty said, “I can come up with a couple of ideas, but she will be suspicious if I do it two weeks in a row.”

I agreed. “You’re probably right. Maybe just the Thursday after next.”

“I can come up with something,” Patty said.

I turned to look at Patty and saw a sly grin on her face. “Anyway, both of you are invited, with your boyfriends, if you have them.”

“You hinted that the jazz band will be there,” Patty said. “That’s who I would have invited.”

Camille smirked. “You’re dating the entire band? That sounds like one of my tricks!”

Patty and I laughed at that.

I was still confused about where Patty and Camille were taking me. We were heading toward the center of town.

Camille found a parking spot on Main Street. I was familiar with that area, but didn’t have any idea what their intentions were.

Patty and Camille led me to a door that read “American Legion.”

“This is where Kristen’s dad is having the party…”

“He hired it this weekend, too,” Patty said.

“Huh?”

“Go upstairs,” Camille directed.

Upstairs, a good majority of the jazz band, as well as a couple of extra people from the chorus and some other friends were assembled. There were some instruments. Even Amy Grant was situated behind an old upright piano that looked as if it was part of the legion hall.

Toby walked over to me and said, “Hey, Jim! Mr. Swift rented us the room for the next two weekends so we could practice here before the party.”

“Huh?” I said, still not comprehending.

“Hey, son!” came a voice behind me. It was Kristen’s father.

“Mr. Swift?” I asked.

“In the flesh,” Kristen’s father answered. “Your friend is correct. I rented this hall for the next couple of Saturdays.”

“Why?”

“One thing we’ve never told you was that Charley was a musician when she was younger,” Mr. Swift explained. “She suggested rehearsing at the site so you can get a good feeling on how the hall ‘sounds,’ or something like that.”

“Cool!” I said, thinking that it was an excellent suggestion. “How did you get the band together?”

“I called your school, asking for your music teacher. He managed to contact most of the students, and others contacted the ones he couldn’t. We didn’t get everybody, but we should have everybody here next week.”

Wendy came over. “I called Camille, and Patty was over at her house. I explained and they decided to see if they could wrest you from Kristen.”

Kristen’s father smiled. “How did they pry the two of you apart, Jim?”

“Kris went to Martin’s with Merry. I was working on arrangements for the party…”

“Do you have them?” asked Gerry.

“Unfortunately, no,” I said, sadly. “I wasn’t told where I was being taken.”

“Cammy and I thought we’d surprise you,” Patty said, apologetically. “I didn’t realize you were working on stuff for the party already.”

“Is there a phone here?” I asked.

Kristen’s father nodded, and pointed downstairs. “You can use the one in the office. They’ll know you’re with me.”

“Camille? Can you drive back to my house and pick up some stuff from my mother?”

“Sure,” Camille said.

Camille followed me as I ran downstairs and called my house. I got my mom and asked her to get some music books and the stuff that were on my keyboard in my room. I would have Camille stop by to pick them up.

“I think I have things under control, Mr. Swift. Thanks for making the effort!”

“No problem, Jim. I need to run.”

“OK. Thanks!” I shook his hand and looked over the students, who more or less set up their seats much the same as if they were in the music room.

I told the people to reorganize the chairs toward the front of the room where they would be playing. If we were going to be learning the acoustics of the room, we should do so in the same area where we would be performing at the party.

I found Sam, who played the string bass, and asked him if he knew the Peter Gunn theme. He wasn’t sure, so I went over to Amy’s upright piano and started playing the theme from memory, choosing the key of G. BUM-bum BUM-bum BUM-bum BUM-bum…

Sam recognized the tune and picked it up almost at once.

Without a cue from me, at the right time, one of the trumpet players and Bill, the best trombone player in the school, automatically joined in on the third phrase. Soon, the drum kit came to life, and you could hear the entire room shake as people started to join in. Amy was even duplicating the bass line that I originally started.

“Hell, who needs arrangements?” I giggled to myself.

Patty, Wendy, and a lot of the chorus members were looking at me with their mouths hanging open.

I cued the band to start the song over. This time, Gerry plugged in his guitar, and I asked him to join in on the bass line, which was being overpowered by the rest of the band. I explained how I wanted the theme to get louder (crescendo) and softer (diminuendo) for each phrase, and showed Toby the correct fingering of the triplets near the end of the phrase.

Back in front of the band, I said we’d be doing eight-bar solos for the third repeat, with only the people doing the bass line maintaining the song. I asked for volunteers and assigned solos. I was surprised when Amy volunteered and gave her a spot in the solos.

Patty tapped me on the shoulder. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, Jim. But is this the first time they played this?”

“They didn’t even know the name of the song before I started playing the bass line,” I said with a grin.

“Not true,” Bill said. “I’ve played this before.”

“Do you have any arrangements?”

“Not in this key.”

“Shit. Which key?”

Bill thought a moment. “One full step down.”

“F?”

“On a trombone.”

I nodded. “Which instruments do you have music for?”

“Two-part sheets for trombone. I think there’s a three-part sheet for trumpet and three-part for sax.”

I asked the group. “Would one step down be easier?”

There were general nods all around. Amy looked confused.

I smiled at the junior and showed her the bass line. As I did, Sam and Gerry played along. Once again, the entire band joined in, much better this time.

I was glad that Bill told me the right key. I made a mental note to ask for help next time before going off on my own.

I cued the band through two repeats and the solos began. Bill was great, as I expected. Following him was a sax solo, and then Gerry switched from the bass line to a lead guitar riff. Amy followed, a bit shaky, but doing a great effort for her first time. She was followed by a kick-ass drum solo.

We played the song two more times, and the solos significantly improved. I told the band to take five, and looked around the room. I knew that I’d need some additional music to allow the chorus members to be useful, and I found, to my delight, that Camille arrived with the stuff that I requested.

“Camille? Did my mom give you any music books?”

In response, Camille held up a stack of books.

I walked over and quickly found ”Moon River“ and placed it on the piano. The same book also contained the love theme from ’Romeo and Juliet’ as well. Both were Mancini tunes.

I rejected another Mancini song, ”Baby Elephant Walk,” since I didn’t have a piccolo or calliope, which was more or less essential for that song.

One of the books I owned was a “fake book,” which just was music with a melody line, chords, and lyrics. There was also a music notebook with “fake” arrangements that I wrote myself for other songs. I figured that we should play a few more “standards” and quickly found an old Jack Jones song, ”Lollipops and Roses.” I thought of the lyrics and figured it would satisfy the old people and might mean something special to my special blonde Goddess.

I went to the singers and asked for soloists for the three songs that I selected. I got volunteers for the Mancini numbers, but nobody seemed to know (or want to sing) the ”Lollipops and Roses.”

“You sing it, Jim,” said Roy, a friend of mine with a voice that people said sounded like mine. “If you want, I can help you double track it the way we did on ’Hooked on a Feeling.’”

“I don’t know if it’s in my range,” I said, looking cautiously at the notes.

Roy looked at the fake book. “It definitely is, Jim.”

“It’s not my style.”

“Bullshit.”

One thing about my band: nobody hesitated in calling me to task if they disagreed with me.

“OK. I’m afraid that people would…” I let the thought hang. I was about to say that I was afraid of making a fool of myself, that people would laugh. I knew that this was never a good excuse not to participate. Roy himself was shaking his head at me.

“OK. I figured we’d do the Ouga Chaka song…”

“We could do that one, also. Bill told me that Mr. Proilet made them practice that a couple of weeks ago.”

Bill was close by. “The song sounded eery without the chorus, but Mr. Proilet told the clarinets to play the melody almost half a beat behind, making it sound as if the brass was dragging the winds behind them.”

“Really? That sounds weird,” I said, impressed.

“We have enough for the chants today, though,” Roy pointed out.

Bill looked at the fake book. “’Lollipops and Roses’ looks like a piano, bass, and drum song with a soloist.”

I sighed, having hoped that song would have been forgotten.

“Jim’s going to do the solo,” Roy decided. “Maybe Stacy can do the second. I’ve heard the song, I think. The bridge follows, and should be a duet. Final verse should be Jim, the bridge is repeated as an instrumental solo, and the repeat of the final verse could be a duet.”

“It sounds as though you want to arrange it,” I said dryly, shaking my head.

“I can arrange that,” Bill said. “I could arrange that for the three parts and allow a couple of four-bar solos for the second bridge. Do you have a copy of the record?”

I thought my mom might have one, but Camille answered. “My mom has that one. Come over my house and I’ll loan it to you tomorrow.”

“Sounds great,” Bill said, grinning.

I sighed. I was just drafted to sing a solo. I hoped that my voice did justice to the song. I called the group back together, and we started to work out the songs that I picked out, intentionally avoiding ”Lollipops and Roses.”

At least there was somebody else helping with an arrangement.

* * *

I saw Kristen’s car in the driveway when Camille dropped me off at my house a few minutes past five. I asked Camille to hold my arrangements for me until I could come over and get them, and she agreed.

“So, you went out on a date while Merry and I were buying dresses?” Kristen said, smiling, as I entered my house.

“Double date,” I answered. “Patty and Camille.”

“My Romeo!” Kristen laughed, kissing me fully on the lips, not minding that my family was in sight.

I was a bit taken aback by Kristen’s calling me Romeo, due to the fact that one of the last songs we rehearsed was the love theme from the movie. I wondered if Kristen suspected what I was doing.

There were no other questions asked about where I went, though. The meal was quite nice, and Kristen spent the night in my room.

Sunday, Kristen and I visited the flea market, and afterward, there was little difficulty inviting my parents and Merry to Vaughn’s for lunch and Merry’s Belly Buster dessert.

* * *

I spent the rest of my spare time that week writing arrangements for the various songs for the jazz band.

On Thursday, after school, Amy and Kristen found me and told me that they needed to go somewhere and that Amy wouldn’t be able to attend rehearsal. I didn’t ask Amy to hijack Kristen, but I knew that was her intent. I told her that I didn’t mind and that I’d do her solos for her. As they left, I was glad that Amy did this for me.

My music teacher, Mr. Proilet, was in the music room as the band started out playing the ”Peter Gunn“ theme. Almost immediately, Mr. Proilet signaled me to stop.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“This isn’t the first time these people have played this. I know that Bill and a couple of the saxes played this last year, but that was in competition. When did they find time to rehearse?”

I smiled. “Kristen’s dad rented the Legion Hall last Saturday and next Saturday to allow us to rehearse on site.”

My music teacher looked impressed. “Would you mind if I attend next Saturday’s rehearsal?”

I shrugged. “It may help, especially if I can’t get away from Kristen.”

Almost immediately, Mr. Proilet looked at the empty piano. “Where is Amy?”

“She’s running interference with Kristen today.”

“Think you can handle this without your muse?”

I ignored my music teacher’s remarks as well as the snickers that accompanied it. “’Peter Gunn,’ from the top,” I said, playing conductor again.

The song didn’t sound as good without the piano, so I signaled Mr. Proilet to take over as I took Amy’s place behind the piano.

I almost missed my cue for the third solo, thinking it was Amy’s part. I recovered quickly, though, and the song went to the end.

“Pretty good,” commented Mr. Proilet. “Piano solo was a bit weak.”

This caused everybody to laugh. Apparently, any sign of weakness on my behalf was appreciated by most everybody.

I alternated conducting and piano with Mr. Proilet with the other Mancini numbers until Roy pointed out that we didn’t do the Lollipops song yet.

“Lollipops?” Mr. Proilet asked.

“The Jack Jones song,” I admitted. “We haven’t practiced that one.”

“Why not?” the music teacher demanded.

“Jim’s afraid of doing the solo,” Roy explained.

I sighed. “’Lollipops,’ everybody,” I said, biting the bullet.

Bill handed the conductor’s score for the song to my teacher. I knew the melody, but was surprised when Bill handed me a completely different arrangement for piano. Only the voices would be carrying the melody except for the introduction.

I was behind the piano. There wasn’t any microphone, so I simply played the solo introduction and started to sing.

After the first line, Mr. Proilet tapped his baton, signaling me to stop. He instructed Roy to bring a mike over to me, and to double-track me live. There was also another girl set up to back Stacy in the same way.

Once again, he signaled me to start.

When I heard Roy accompany me, I felt much better. The band came in, and I was surprised at how good the song was going.

I almost forgot that the second verse was the female solo, but Roy saw that and quickly signaled me before I made a fool of myself. It was much easier playing the piano harmony when it was backing Stacy than when I was singing melody.

The second verse was followed by our duet bridge, and Roy and I took the final verse.

Toby took the first four-bar solo, and did rather well. The rest of the solos followed, followed by Stacy and I doing the final duet.

“Great arrangement,” Mr. Proilet said, looking at me.

“Roy actually came up with the concept, and Bill did the actual arranging,” I pointed out.

“Great work, all of you,” the teacher said. “Can we try it again from the first bridge?”

* * *

I was able to attend Saturday’s rehearsal, because Kristen’s parents ran interference for me. We brought the sound systems this weekend, and we decided to play a complete set one time through in order to get a feel of what the program would be. Patty and Camille were assigned as our official timers, and they were given stopwatches and told to indicate the start and end times for each song.

“We’re not going to stop for mistakes,” I told the band.

“Who’s going to announce the band?” Roy asked.

I didn’t think of that. “Mr. Proilet?” I asked, looking at my music teacher.

“No problem.”

I turned to Patty and Camille. “Time the intro as well.”

“What do we call the band?” Mr. Proilet asked.

That was another thing we never discussed.

Without missing a band, Camille answered, “The Oogie Woogie Impromptu Jazz Band.”

This was greeted by laughter by everybody.

“How appropriate!” my music teacher said, laughing.

There was a curtain behind the stage set up, and we all were back there with our chairs, stands, and instruments. The chorus members helped out with some of the equipment as well.

Using the backstage mike, Mr. Proilet took a deep breath and said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention? I have the privilege to introduce to you, fresh from their successful engagement at the high school Christmas concert, Jim Crittenhouse and the one and only Oogie Woogie Impromptu Jazz Band!”

That was our cue to come on stage and set up quickly. I took my spot behind the podium, facing the audience. It was Camille’s job to get the signal from Mr. Proilet and to signal me when the group was ready.

I started my prepared speech. “Thank you, everybody. Our first four numbers are standards that everybody should know from the inimitable Henry Mancini. Those will be followed by a love song and our final number will be something that will really rock the house. Those of you over the age of thirty have been warned.”

Camille gave me her nod and I smiled. I turned around and tapped my baton four times.

Amy, Sam, and Gerry started playing the ”Peter Gunn“ bass line and I smiled. Things were sounding very nicely.

When Roy took the solo for ”Moon River,” it actually brought tears to my eyes. His voice wasn’t the same as Andy Williams’, but he handled the lovely Johnny Mercer lyrics just fine.

Stacy did the lead for ”Romeo and Juliet,” and Lynn joined her in harmony for the bridge, their voices intertwining beautifully together, like angels.

For the next song, ”Pink Panther Theme,” I signaled Amy to start the song. The woodwinds really liked this particular number, and I got a very funky rendition. It was our most polished piece, since the band played this many times before.

During the ”Pink Panther,” Roy came over with the microphone. I originally hoped that I could sit and hide behind the piano as I did on Thursday, but it wasn’t to be. Besides, I couldn’t take Amy away from her rightful place behind the ivories.

Mr. Proilet took over the conducting for ”Lollipops,” and Roy and I sang the first verse. Unfortunately, our mikes weren’t live, but that was quickly fixed by somebody in the sound crew. We kept singing anyway, knowing that the set needed to be done in one take no matter what.

Toby’s solo during the bridge was extremely nice and melodic and I was secretly proud of him. The duet on the repeated final verse sounded very nice to my ears as well.

After that song, I was ready to take over the podium when Mr. Proilet abruptly signaled the chorus, which started the “Ouga Chaka” changes. I forgot that Mr. Proilet told me that he was going to conduct during my solos.

During ”Hooked on a Feeling,” Roy kept looking at me strangely. For some reason, our voices weren’t as together as they were during ”Lollipops.” Both of us knew there was a problem, and it took me a few moments to realize what the problem was.

I closed my eyes, but kept looking where I knew Camille and Patty were standing. Instead of them, however, I imagined Kristen standing there, smiling at me with that loving look in her eyes.

During the final verse, Roy and I were together again. I felt infinitely better and we finished the song very strongly.

As soon as the song ended, I signaled to Camille and Patty to stop their watches. They did, and came up to me.

Before they arrived, Mr. Proilet said, “I’m glad Kristen showed up, even if only in your mind, Jim.”

I knew exactly what my music teacher was referring to. I simply nodded.

“Twenty-six minutes, Jim!” Patty and Camille said.

“Cool. Just under a half hour. A standard set is, what? Forty five minutes? That gives us time between numbers.” I turned to my music teacher. “’Hooked on a Feeling’ sounds better with the winds dragging, Mr. Proilet. That was a great suggestion!”

“What do you have when they ask for an encore?” Mr. Proilet asked.

“Huh?” I asked.

“When you do a set like that, you must always be prepared for an encore. Even if you’re not asked, it’s best to have something ready.”

Gerry, who came up to the podium, agreed.

“Hmmm, most of what we’ve been doing last semester was Christmas music,” I said. “Most people don’t associate ’Linus and Lucy’ with Christmas, but…”

Bill offered a suggestion. “The orchestra is doing ’Porgy and Bess’ later this year. We have a few members of the orchestra and some of the chorus people know the songs as well.”

“Hmmm,” I considered. “How about ’Summertime?’ Wrong season?”

“Not bad. Pretty jazzy, actually,” Mr. Proilet said. “I’ll see if I can get copies of the orchestral version to you on Monday. How about Cole Porter? The band did ’Anything Goes’ a couple of years ago.”

I actually forgot about that. At the time, I was “on loan” to the high school band for that performance where Mr. Proilet originally thought of me as a prima-donna. “Cool,” I said, smiling.

“Sorry, dude,” said one of the seniors that was working the sound. “I accidentally kicked out the cable.”

“You fixed it quickly, though,” I said, smiling.

“You can be damn well sure it will work next weekend.”

“Cool,” I repeated.

I was looking at the timings that Camille and Patty compiled. I noticed the longest gap between songs was when Mr. Proilet took over before ”Lollipops.”

My music teacher was looking over the timings as well. “Do you think we should put a couple of the Mancini songs last?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “They are all part of a matched set, so to speak. Even though I’m not behind the podium at the end, I think we should end with the rocker.”

Most of the people with me agreed with that. I think Mr. Proilet thought it would have been better with me behind the podium at the start and finish of the set. I didn’t think it was that necessary. This was just a small gathering of friends and relatives.

We did the set a couple more times, each time playing through from start to finish. Camille and Patty checked the timings, but the set didn’t vary by more than a minute either way.

Chapter 15—Party!

We are to have a birthday party,

And you can wear your birthday clothes!

Then we can hit the floor,

And go explore,

Those Popsicle toes!

Michael Franks

Popsicle Toes

During lunch on Thursday, the subject of Kristen’s birthday party came up.

“How many people will be there?” Sherry asked.

“Well, from this school, there will be Patty and Toby, Camille, Wendy and Gerry, me, you, the rest of the cheerleaders and their boyfriends.”

“Jim’s family will be there,” Kristen said. “Patrice and Jack and what’s-her-name, his girlfriend.”

I nodded. “Doreen. Kristen’s family, too.”

“Not many people there,” Kristen said.

I smiled. Kristen’s brother was making a surprise visit, but Kristen didn’t know that.

“Sounds like a party,” Sherry said with a smile.

Patty seemed a bit quiet. Kristen picked up on that immediately. “Anything wrong, Patty?”

“No. I was just thinking about what I was going to wear.”

“I’ve got a lot of stuff,” Kristen said. “We’re about the same size. Would you like to borrow something?”

Patty shrugged.

“Come on, Patty,” Kristen insisted.

“When?”

“Friday… no… wait. Jim and I have a date. My last day at seventeen. How about tonight?”

“I have to be at Roman’s tonight,” Patty said, referring to the recent part-time job she got at a pizzeria.

“How about after school?” Kristen said. “Oh, wait… the rehearsal. I missed it last week…”

It suddenly hit me what Patty was doing.

“I think the band will survive another rehearsal without my muse,” I said.

Kristen looked at me suddenly, her eyes narrowing.

I think I might have agreed too easily.

Kristen said, “How about tomorrow after school, Patty?”

Patty forced a smile. “That sounds fine.”

The subject changed, but I noticed that Kristen continued to look at me suspiciously during the entire lunch period.

* * *

Kristen made damn sure she was at rehearsal. Mr. Proilet saw that and smiled. I asked Kristen if she wanted to do a solo on the electric piano.

My girlfriend was still suspicious that something was up, and so she just shrugged.

The music teacher was handing out arrangements of Gershwin’s ”Summertime,” which he suggested as an encore. As he handed it to Kristen, he apologized to the two women for the cold reading.

I was at the podium and counted down a slow tempo.

Kristen played the number flawlessly, albeit a bit stiffly. I stopped the number about halfway through.

“You’re doing great, Kris!” I said, smiling at her.

Kristen simply shrugged.

I turned to the chorus members, and asked “Who has the vocal range to sing this song?”

Stacey volunteered, and I decided to do it with a soloist.

I took the number again from the top, and this time, Kristen sounded much better. The song sounded better having a vocal part, and Mr. Proilet agreed.

We spent the rest of the session rehearsing ”Summertime“ and ”Anything Goes.”

* * *

After the rehearsal, Kristen came over to me. “I’m sorry, Jim.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I didn’t… I thought you didn’t want me at the rehearsal today.”

It was true, but having Kristen there didn’t seem to be a bad thing.

“I always do better when you’re around. Also, after watching you play ’Summertime,’ Amy hit the Cole Porter song with a vengeance!”

Kristen smiled. “Amy’s definitely better than when she started last year.”

Camille was coming out of the gym, as cheerleader practice just finished up. She saw Kristen and me and came over and said, “Hi!”

“Patty’s coming over to Kristen’s tomorrow to find an outfit for the party,” I said.

“Yeah,” Camille said. “She told me.”

“Kris and I have a date. Would you and Patty like to tag along to celebrate Kristen’s last day as a seventeen year old?”

“Like a bachelor party?” Camille asked.

“No. Just friends celebrating privately,” I said. “We were thinking of the Islander.”

“Chinese… yum!” Camille said.

Kristen said, “Think you guys can come?”

Camille looked at Kristen. “Are you sure that we wouldn’t be intruding?”

Kristen shook her head. “I wanted to do something like go out with friends, but didn’t know how Jim would feel. Since he brought it up, I must say that both of us would like that.”

“I’ll have to find out if Patty is working tomorrow night.”

“Hey, Cammy… if Patty can’t make it, then let’s bring the party to her.” I turned to Kristen. “How about Roman’s?”

“Do you think Patty will mind?” Kristen asked.

“Patty will love it,” Camille laughed. “She says the biggest problem with her job is that she doesn’t see her friends as often as she used to see them.”

“Great. Let us know tomorrow,” Kristen said.

We were now at Kristen’s Camaro. Camille waved good-bye as Kristen drove me home.

“Are our plans still on for after dinner, Jim?”

“Of course, Kristen,” I said. “I want to make love to you before midnight and after midnight. Your last as a minor and your first as an adult.”

“You don’t mind that I’ll be eighteen?” Kristen asked, gunning the engine.

“Who knows? I might find that I have a fondness for older women!”

Instead of laughing, Kristen sighed. “You’re spending too much time with Camille.”

* * *

On Friday, I located Sam and handed him a piano arrangement and asked if he’d be able to work out a bass line for it.

Sam glanced at the music I handed him and furrowed his brow. “I can’t place the tune.”

“It’s something I wrote.”

“Oh,” he said. “Shouldn’t be too difficult. Do you have a demo of the piece on keyboard?”

“Actually, yes,” I said. “Electric piano, actually. I was thinking acoustic would be better.”

Sam continued to study the music. “Electric is probably perfect for this one.”

“You think?” I asked. Sam had a great ear for music, and I valued his opinion highly.

“Ask your music teacher after class,” Sam suggested. “I’ll get the tape from you during seventh. If you see Amy before that, we have orchestra together and she can get it to me.”

“Thanks, friend!”

After music class, Mr. Proilet saw me hanging back. “What’s up, Jim?”

“Can you listen to this?” I asked, showing my teacher the cassette. Sam was still hanging around, interested in the teacher’s reaction to my song.

I watched Mr. Proilet look around for a cassette player and he finally found one. He took the tape and put it in.

The two of us listened to my rendition of a song that I’d had been working on for the past month. At the end of the song, Mr. Proilet said, “This is for Kristen?”

“Yes.”

“It needs a bass line, more than you do on the keyboard. The electric is perfect for the melody line.”

“I was thinking a bass and a drum.”

“Sam and Derek?” Mr. Proilet asked, looking at Sam hanging around.

“Yeah. They’re going to be at the party, and…”

“Do you have the bass part written?”

“I gave a copy of the score to Sam.”

My music teacher smiled. “That’s a good idea. Give him this cassette so he can get your meter as well.”

Sam laughed in response.

I nodded, seriously.

“Your song reminds me of Pachelbel’s Canon.”

“Whose cannon?”

“You’ve never heard that song in church?”

I shook my head. I wasn’t much of a church person.

My teacher walked to the piano and started playing what appeared to be arpeggios. The melody became familiar as he played it, except that there were many more motifs in the song my teacher played.

“I’ve heard that melody before,” I admitted. “It may be where I got the idea for the beginning.”

“Nothing wrong with inspiration, Jim.”

I shrugged. Now that I heard Canon, I saw the similarity.

My music teacher asked, “Do you have words to go with that song?”

“Unfortunately, only part of it. I am running out of time getting this done before Kristen’s birthday.”

“Pity. It sounds as if it would be a lovely song.”

“Maybe I’ll come up with some, but I’m not much of a poet.”

The three of us laughed at that.

Mr. Proilet left the room, and I spent about ten minutes explaining to Sam about some songs I wanted to do as sort of “improvisations” but to let people such as Toby, Sam, Derek, and the other to be ready for them.

* * *

That afternoon, Kristen drove me to her house, and reminded me that Patty and Camille were coming over. Kristen promised Patty that she could borrow some clothes for the party on Saturday.

“Oh great,” I said in mock indignation. “Another couple of hours wasted while girls try on dresses.”

Kristen looked at me and smiled when she saw that I was smirking. “Poor baby,” she said.

When we got to the apartment, I headed straight to the kitchen. I figured that dinner was a couple of hours off, and I was a bit hungry. Kristen discovered one of my weaknesses—making Jiffy Pop—and stocked about a dozen or more of them in the pantry.

I put the gas stove on a low flame, tore the cover off the top and started heating the snack.

Kristen called out to me to pour her a glass of the white wine we kept in the refrigerator. Since the kernels didn’t start to pop yet, I took the foil pan off the flame, poured a glass for the Goddess, then put the glass on the pass-through that led to the living room.

Once again, I started shaking the pan over the stove when the doorbell rang.

“Can you get that for me, Oogie?”

Of course, the kernels were starting to pop.

I once again put the pan on an unused burner and ran out to open the door. It was Patty and Camille. I welcomed them in, and ran back into the kitchen to try to resuscitate the popcorn.

“What are you doing in there?” asked Camille.

“Trying to make Jiffy Pop,” I said.

Camille saw the glass of wine on the pass-through. “Is that for Kristen?”

“The wine?” I asked. “Yeah.”

“You mind if I have some, too?”

“As long as you come in here and pour it. I don’t want these kernels to burn.”

Camille and Patty both came into the kitchen. Patty sniffed a bit and turned on the fan over the stove. “They’re burning, Jim.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “Burning things seems to be my specialty.”

Camille poured two half-glasses of wine for Patty and herself.

The foil wasn’t even half inflated when the popping slowed down.

I shrugged, and put the pan into the sink (it was too hot to put into the garbage as it was), and went into the pantry and retrieved another Jiffy Pop.

“How many of those do you have, Oogie?” Patty asked.

“Twenty or thirty,” I said, grinning.

I started a new batch of popcorn.

Kristen called out, “Oogie, can you bring my glass of wine into the bedroom?”

I looked at the Jiffy Pop and the two girls laughed.

“I’ll take over the popcorn for you, Jim,” Camille offered.

“Thanks.”

I went into the bedroom, and found clothes all over the place. “What’s going on, Kris?”

“I’m not sure what outfit Patty will want,” Kristen said. She emptied almost her entire closet—and it was a large, walk-in closet, believe me—on her bed, on her dressers… everywhere.

“Patty and Camille are here, love,” I said, handing Kristen her wine.

“What burned?” Kristen asked, sniffing the air.

“My first batch of Jiffy Pop,” I said.

“You always set the heat on too high.”

It was more like I’m always interrupted when I make popcorn, but saying anything would make it sound like I was angry, and I wasn’t. Well, not really. “Yeah. Cammy took over while I fetched your wine.”

“You’re sweet,” Kristen said, sipping her wine. “Cammy won’t burn the popcorn. You always cook it too high.”

“Yeah. Guys like me need to learn how to cook. Maybe next year I’ll take a home economics class.”

Kristen heard the sarcasm in my voice, and dispelled any argument with a kiss that tasted of Chablis.

“Hmmm,” I said. “That wine is sweet. Or was that you?”

My Goddess ignored the compliment and picked up a smart outfit. “What do you think? Think the green matches Patty’s hair?”

“Patty’s hair is red, not green,” I pointed out.

Kristen rolled her eyes and sighed.

“I need to get back to the kitchen and collect the popcorn,” I said.

“Sure thing. You don’t mind Patty trying on outfits, do you?”

“No. I have Cammy to keep me company,” I said.

“Oh? Do you think I can trust you with Cammy?”

“I’ve been to Lake Shore Point with her already,” I said. “She kisses nice, but she’s not you.”

Kristen smiled at me. “You’re truly sweet. I promise we won’t take too long.”

“I trust you.”

“How about this… I give you permission to snuggle with Cammy. I promise to make it fun for you.”

Kristen was giving me permission to snuggle with Camille? “Um, that’s not necessary…”

“Of course it is,” Kristen said.

She bounded out of the room and I followed her.

Camille ripped open the top of the foil and took a handful of popcorn in her hand. So did Patty.

“Hey, Patty, Camille!” Kristen said happily. “Jim said you were here.”

“Hi, Kristen,” the two girls answered.

“You know how Jim here doesn’t like fashion shows,” Kristen said. “I suddenly got an idea to make it more interesting for him.”

“How?” asked Patty.

“First, Cammy… can you keep Jim comfortable in the living room?”

“Of course,” Camille said.

“I mean, really comfortable,” Kristen said, giving Camille a look. “Almost to be point of being… uncomfortable?”

Camille looked surprised at Kristen and then a big smile grew on her face. “Of course, Kristen.”

“Cool. Patty, I have some outfits in the bedroom. Come with me!”

I looked at Camille. I know that Kristen gave me permission to “snuggle” with Camille, and she just gave an even more open invitation to the blonde.

“Looks as if our job is to retire to the living room, Jim,” Camille said.

“Cammy, you don’t have to…”

“Oh, Jim, I’m not going to fuck you! I think Kristen just wants me to keep things interesting for you.”

“All right, but if Kristen starts to act funny…”

“I know,” Camille said. “I have no interest in losing her friendship, or yours.”

“All right.”

* * *

I have kissed Camille before, and I know that she is quite capable in the department. However, she seemed to have lowered her wattage in the living room. It was a romantic kiss, but I got much steamier kisses from her in the past, so I knew she wasn’t really trying.

Kristen and Patty came into the living room to model what they were wearing.

Actually, the expression should be rewritten. They were modeling what they weren’t wearing. Kristen wore a matching set of pink panties and a bra with embroidery hearts knit on it. Inside the hearts there was no material at all. Kristen’s nipples stuck out of a couple of intentionally placed hearts in the bra cups, and the holes in her panties left no confusion as to whether she was a natural blonde.

Patty, for her part, was wearing an emerald green lingerie set. The panties looked like bikini bottoms, and the top was a camisole that covered most of her top, but left her belly button exposed.

“Wow!” was my reaction to the two of them.

“Killer outfits!” Camille said appreciatively. “Patty… you look good enough to eat!”

Patty blushed at Camille’s compliment.

“I like those hearts on Kristen myself,” I said, not wanting Kristen to go unappreciated.

“You see?” Kristen told Patty. “I told you they would like these!”

“Oogie like!” I said, trying my best to force my voice into a low register like the Hulk cartoon.

Patty and Kristen laughed, and both of them came over to me and gave me hugs and kisses.

The girls went back to the bedroom and put on their outfits. For two girls going to a Chinese restaurant, they were a bit overdressed. Do you think I minded?

At the Islander, I found myself distracted, remembering the lingerie show that Patty and Kristen gave me. The last time I was at the Islander, I recalled, I was distracted as well.

It was obvious that my women troubles were only just beginning.

* * *

Kristen and I drove Patty and Camille to their homes and made sure we were back at the apartment before midnight. We wanted to do a “before” and “after” session about Kristen turning eighteen, and we did so.

Instead of sucking me when we got into bed at a quarter after eleven at night, Kristen insisted on fucking me. I mentioned that this wasn’t a big part of our nights together, mostly due to Kristen’s addiction to my sperm, but that was what Kristen wanted.

I remembered the argument Kristen and I had the previous autumn, and also remembered her original ultimatum: to fulfill her fantasy before her eighteenth birthday. I didn’t carry out her request, yet, and I felt a bit bad. I still couldn’t decide whether or not whether or not I would comply with her request, and her deadline was approaching.

After I shot off into Kristen’s womb, I immediately moved into a sixty-nine position and tried as much as I could to suck my own seed from Kristen. During the four and a half months we were dating, I had plenty of experience with having my own seed in my mouth, mostly from Kristen. I was going to do this for her. I looked at the alarm clock and noticed that it was five minutes until midnight. I moved back up to my darling and kissed her, giving her my seed, mixed with her own juices and my saliva.

It wasn’t exactly what she demanded, but I gave her what I could.

Kristen’s response was to pull my body so close to her that her breasts were flattened in between us. “Thank you, Jim!” Kristen breathed after a couple of minutes.

“Midnight, Goddess!” I said, noticing the time.

“I love you, Oogie!” Kristen cried.

The love of my life just cried and cried. Nothing I could do could stop her. I tried to ask her what was wrong, but she continued to cry.

Oh, fuck. I thought that this would have been a good compromise.

I simple held Kristen in my arms until she calmed down. “I’m sorry, Oogie.”

I figured it was time to respond, so I said, “I’m sorry, Kristen. I knew how important your request was, and I failed you.”

“Huh?” Kristen asked, confused.

“I knew what you wanted before your birthday. I couldn’t do it.”

“But you did!” Kristen shouted. “I didn’t get it from another girl, but I got it from you!”

“No…”

“Jim!” Kristen interrupted. “Don’t make this another story. You did the right thing.”

“Another story?” I asked, confused.

“Forget it,” Kristen said. “You don’t want to know.”

“Story?”

Kristen didn’t answer me. “I love you, Jim,” she said.

“I love you, Kris.”

The two of us noticed the time and very soon afterward, I made love with an adult over the age of eighteen.

* * *

Kristen was all excited about her party, which she knew would be at the American Legion hall.

That morning, Kristen and I ate breakfast with her parents.

“You look excited, Kris,” Kristen’s father told her.

“It’s my first birthday party with Jim,” Kristen enthused.

Kristen’s mother looked at her husband with warm eyes. “I remember my first birthday party with Daniel. I was a college student trying to earn some spending money, and I needed to work on my birthday. Daniel was at the club, and he spoke to me.”

Kristen’s parents just looked at one another at this point, silence pervading the room.

“Daniel told me that you were a musician in college,” I said to Kristen’s mother.

“Daniel?” Kristen asked.

Mr. Swift laughed. “I’ve asked Jim to call me that. He seems pretty mature, and you know I don’t like being called ‘Mr. Swift.’ That was my father’s name.”

I laughed quietly. I think Daniel felt the same way about fathers as I did.

“In that case, call me Charley,” Kristen’s mother said. “And yes, I played bass guitar and occasionally sang.”

“I’ve tried playing guitar,” I admitted. “I never got the fingering right.”

“Bass is much easier,” Kristen’s mom replied. “Our band was a novelty with girls doing all the instruments. We did a few clubs, but mostly weddings. It paid the bills.”

“I may have to play weddings myself if I’m going to be a musician. I guess it’s a way of paying your dues.”

Kristen looked alarmed. “Oh, Jim, you’re much too good for weddings!”

“What was your band’s name?” I asked, changing the subject.

“’Honey Drippers,’ named after Honey Carlisle, our lead singer.”

“Honey was a torch singer,” Daniel added. “Her voice sounded much the same as Peggy Lee’s.”

“That’s a cool name for a band,” I said. “Did you do any rock?”

“Heaven’s no!” Kristen’s mom replied. “This was the early 1950s. We did some swing, but mostly ballads. You know, Andrews Sisters type stuff. I sang harmony to Honey.”

“So, like, did Daniel talk to you after your set?” I asked, wanting to get the goods on Kristen’s parents.

Daniel laughed. “I was transfixed during the performance. Most every guy’s eyes were on Honey, but I saw Charley here and I knew my future was with her. When I saw her after her performance, she seemed to like me immediately, too.”

Suddenly, something registered in my mind and I got the germ of an idea.

“Can you excuse me, Kris?” I asked. “I just remembered something I forgot in the apartment.”

“A present for me?” Kristen asked, sweetly.

“Could be!” I smiled.

At the apartment, I called my music teacher’s home number.

“Hello,” Mr. Proilet said as he answered the phone.

“Mr. Proilet, do you still have access to the spring concert music from a couple of years back?”

“Jim! Glad to hear you… I think I have those. Which song?”

“The one you borrowed me from the junior high to do lead trumpet.”

“That one! Yeah. I’ve got it. I was thinking of maybe doing it again next year.”

“Think the birthday people can sight read it? I don’t remember it being that difficult.”

Mr. Proilet paused. “The folks you have in your group should do it justice, but there are no guitar parts.”

“Maybe I could have Gerry do the second solo.”

“You’d have to transpose it. I don’t think Gerry does sight transposition.”

Damn! I wished I thought of this earlier. “Gerry’s own band is going to do a set without the rest of the band, so he could sit out this one.”

“That would work.”

“Do you have the lyrics? I was thinking of having Stacy and Lynn do the vocals.”

“The vocals are for three parts,” Mr. Proilet pointed out.

“I have another girl in mind.”

“Kristen?”

I snickered. “Maybe. It will be a surprise.”

We said our good-byes, and I was very happy that I memorized that song. I think it was due to the fact that I used to be a lot more conceited. Being picked to do a featured solo in the high school band when you were in eighth grade could do that to a young man.

I came back to the main house and found Kristen and her parents in the living room. Kristen looked at me curiously, wondering what I picked up from the apartment, but she didn’t ask.

We ended up making chit-chat until lunch time, when Kristen’s parents said that they needed to set up for the party. They left the two of us alone and asked us to be at the party in an hour.

We spent most of that hour cuddling, and Kristen subtly gave my body a thorough search, looking for whatever it was that I might have gotten from the apartment.

* * *

When Kristen and I got into the American Legion hall, Kristen knew something was up. First of all, a lot of the members knew me by name and greeted me as “Oogie.” I met them the previous two weeks, and during our rehearsals, many of the members came upstairs to watch us perform.

“Oogie?” Kristen asked me, narrowing her eyes.

“They may have attended the Christmas concert,” I shrugged.

“I’ll bet,” Kristen said.

I led Kristen upstairs, and she gasped as she saw how the hall was decorated.

Patty, Wendy, Camille, Lynette, and a bunch of the cheerleaders went all out to turn the hall into a festive birthday celebration. There were balloons, ribbons, posters, and signs everywhere!

“SURPRISE!” Everybody yelled as Kristen entered the room.

“Wow!” Kristen said, and for the first time in my memory, my blonde Goddess was at a loss for words.

The entire jazz band was sitting patiently at their seats. Mr. Proilet was standing at the conductor’s podium, facing the room.

“You did this?” Kristen asked, finally finding the ability to speak.

“We all did this, Goddess!” I said, kissing Kristen on the cheek.

“The band?”

“We have a special set written just for this party, Kris.”

“Will you sit with me when they perform?”

I shook my head. “I have to conduct, Kris.”

“Oh,” Kristen said, a little disappointed, and then confused. “Why is Mr. Proilet here, then?”

“He helped the group rehearse when I was busy with you. He’s going to announce the band.”

My teacher signaled that it was time for me to come to the podium. I gave Kristen a kiss on the lips, and said, “Sit with your parents.”

Kristen found that her parents were sitting with mine and she squealed with joy when she saw her brother sitting with them. Kristen moved over to them and hugged her brother very tightly, and then introduced Merry and hugged her as well.

When I got to the podium, I saw that Toby brought me my trumpet. Mr. Proilet’s electric piano was set up. “What’s the electric for?” I asked him.

“It will sound better for Lollipops,” my teacher answered.

“OK,” I said. “Did you get the special music?”

“We managed to get a rehearsal in before Kristen’s parents arrived. I take it that song is a surprise for them?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I was thinking of putting that prior to Lollipops.”

Mr. Proilet nodded, and I sat with the trumpets. He tapped his stick on the podium to get the band’s attention, as well as those of the party guests.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention? I have the privilege to introduce to you, fresh from their successful engagement at the high school Christmas concert, Jim Crittenhouse and the one and only Oogie Woogie Impromptu Jazz Band!”

Many people laughed at the band’s name, but we got a smattering of applause as well.

I took over for Mr. Proilet and said, “Thank you, Mr. Proilet.” I turned to the audience and said, “We have an eclectic mix of tunes for you, from the likes of Henry Mancini to some other standards and even a rock number.”

I turned to the band and signaled the start of the Peter Gunn Theme.

Roy was at his best with ”Moon River“ and Stacy and Lynn handled ”Romeo and Juliet“ handily.

The band really cooked during ”Pink Panther“ and Mr. Proilet came over to the conductor’s podium.

I turned to the audience, and said, “For our next number, we have a surprise for everybody, especially one special lady.”

I saw Kristen smile at me, and I winked my eye at her.

“Our two female vocalists, Stacy and Lynn, will be accompanied by my special guest. She’s the former bassist and vocalist from a group called the Honey Drippers. Mrs. Charley Swift!”

Kristen’s mother gasped as she realized that she was being singled out in the crowd. Everybody looked at her in surprise as well.

“Please Mrs. Swift. I’m sure you’ll know this next number.”

Kristen’s mother was shaking her head.

“Everybody, could we have some applause to let our special guest know that we’d love her to come up here for her daughter’s birthday?”

Applause answered me, and Mrs. Swift, her face red, came to the podium. I directed her to where Stacy and Lynn were standing behind their microphone and told her to tell the girls which part she’d take.

Mrs. Swift’s eyes went wide as she saw the music and a smile replaced the look of fear on her face. She whispered something to the girls and pointed to something in the music. After a couple of short moments, the three women looked at me expectantly.

I handed the conductor’s stick to Mr. Proilet, and took my trumpet from the chair. Since the song started with a trumpet solo, I remained standing while Mr. Proilet gave me the beat.

I took a deep breath and started the solo. Looking at the audience, I saw looks of recognition from the young and old alike.

As soon as my solo ended, Stacy, Lynn, and Mrs. Swift started singing, their voices blending together as if they sung this song all their lives:

He was a famous trumpet man

From old Chicago way,

He had a boogie style that

No one else could play.

He was the top man at his craft,

But then his number came up

And he was gone with the draft.

He’s in the army now,

A-blowin’ reveille.

He’s the boogie-woogie bugle boy

Of Company B!

The band sounded terrific. A few of the seniors in the band played this in the spring concert a couple of years back and remembered it.

When we finished, the audience went wild. The applause sounded as if it would never stop.

I walked over to the three women, and made them take their bows.

“When did you cook this number up?” Mrs. Swift asked me.

“This morning, when you said you did Andrews Sisters numbers. I remembered that I did this song a couple of years ago and asked Mr. Proilet if he could get the score. I was hoping you’d be able to get the part the first time.”

“You never cease to amaze me, Jim. Or should I call you Oogie?”

I shrugged. “Whichever. Just don’t call me ‘son,’ yet. Daniel calls me that, and it gets me nervous.”

“He thinks of you as his son.”

Mr. Proilet was indicating to me that the next song was up. I thanked Mrs. Swift, and she kissed me on the cheek before she went back to where she was sitting before.

Mr. Proilet pointed to the mike where Roy was standing, and I went over to accompany him. The conductor’s baton went up and the introduction started.

The mikes were live, thank goodness, and Roy and I started to sing:

Tell her you care,

Each time you speak,

Make it her birthday

Each day of the week.

Bring her nice things,

Sugar-and-spice things,

Roses and lollipops and

Lollipops and roses.

I looked over to Kristen as I sang this, and she knew that I was singing right to her. There were tears in her eyes, and her emotions were contagious.

Luckily, we made it through the song.

We ended the set with ”Hooked on a Feeling.”

* * *

“That was wonderful,” Kristen said, wrapping her arms around my neck and ending it with one of her erection special kisses.

“Anything for you, Goddess,” I said when we finally broke the kiss.

Kristen’s father shook my hand, telling me “That was special, Jim. It brought back very special memories to both of us.”

I smiled at him. “This morning, when you were telling me how the two of you met, and mentioned that she sang Andrews Sisters songs, I called my teacher to get the music. I was honored to be able to solo for your wife, sir.”

“Sir?” Mr. Swift laughed, amused. “You are very polite.”

I nodded over to where my mother was. “You have her to thank for that. She taught me manners.”

My mother reddened at my statement, but she looked very proud of me.

I got a warm kiss from Kristen’s mother, and she thanked me again as well.

The birthday party went pretty nicely. Gerry’s band knew the standard numbers and people even danced a bit.

The younger crowd tended to separate from the older crowd, and Kristen and I moved between both crowds. Kristen and I chatted a lot with her brother, who was hanging out with the older crowd.

I noticed Will staring at the younger group, and after a few minutes, I noticed Camille staring over where we were. It was obvious that the two of them were staring at each other, oblivious to anything else going on. Patty noticed Camille’s distraction, and her eyes widened.

I interrupted Will’s reverie.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” Will said, still distracted.

“Let me introduce you to one of our friends,” I said, leading him toward Camille.

Kristen and I led Will to Camille and Patty. Kristen introduced her brother to our friends.

Camille and Will continued staring at each other.

We left the two of them alone.

* * *

Near the end of the party, Patty found me and asked to talk to me, privately. We walked over to where the sodas were kept in a bin of ice, and then found a place that was relatively quiet.

“What’s up, Patty.”

“Kristen’s brother is… I can’t put my finger on it,” Patty said.

“He seems taken by Camille.”

Patty nodded distractedly. I don’t think that was what was bothering her.

“What’s wrong, Patty?” I asked.

“He’s…” Patty paused. Words seemed to fail her.

“He seems a bit psychic,” I said, remembering my discussion with Will last Thanksgiving.

“Um, maybe that’s it.”

“You’re not jealous that he seems to be interested in Cammy, are you?”

Patty shook her head. “Cammy never had a real boyfriend before. I’m happy about that. It’s that he’s…”

Once again, words failed Patty.

“Will loves Kristen very much,” I said. “I think he’s a great fellow myself. Do you think he’s a bad person?”

“No!” Patty said. She shook her head, trying to get whatever it was in her mind out. “I mean, I’m happy for Cammy. Did you see the way they found each other across the entire room?”

I smiled. I started singing, “Some enchanted evening, you will meet a stranger…”

Patty laughed. “Maybe I’m not used to seeing Camille so happy like that… with a boy. I know she has a lover. She told me about… her lover… that day we took off from school.”

“Did Camille ever tell you what I told her right before that day?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Patty said. “I never realized it, either, until Camille told me about what you said. She said that you were the first person that she ever really trusted in years. You pointed it out to her, and said that I felt the same way. I didn’t even put that together, you know!”

I simply nodded.

“You didn’t give Camille a ticket, did you?” Patty asked, suddenly.

My mouth opened wide. I never expected Patty to suspect me of doing something like that! “Of course not!”

Patty looked into my eyes, and then cast her eyes down. “I’m sorry, Jim. I mean, it was wonderful when Cammy came back from the dead and became a real person again. She said that talking to you had convinced her. I’m sorry that I doubted your integrity.”

“Patty, I’ve done some bad things with my tickets. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything nice with them. I’ve sworn off using them.”

I didn’t tell Patty that I handed a ticket to Camille as a “test” to see if they really didn’t work on her. It was a minor fib, but Camille agreed to being part of that test.

Kristen came over to the two of us. “It looks like Will and Camille are an item.”

“Oh?” Kristen said, a bit surprised.

“We’ve never seen Cammy so infatuated before,” I said.

“Hmm,” Kristen said, looking over to where Will and Camille were standing together. They were together, just talking. “They both have it bad for each other.”

“It seems unusual,” Patty said.

“They’ve both been looking everywhere for love,” Kristen said, smiling. “It’s interesting that they found it at the same time.”

Patty looked at Kristen, and finally smiled. “You know, I think you’re right!”

I kissed Kristen. “Happy birthday, my fair Goddess!”

Kristen beamed at me. “I loved your surprise!”

I looked at Patty and then back at Kristen. “I am going to allow you to do something special tonight.”

“What’s that?”

“For the first time in your life, you’ll be able to commit statutory rape!”

Kristen and Patty giggled at that.

* * *

My mother got me alone at one point near the end of the party. She had something important to say to me.

“Kristen and I talked together earlier,” Mom said.

“Oh?” I said.

“She’s deeded the apartment to you as a birthday present.”

“She what?” I said, quite loudly, as I was completely amazed.

“It’s not finalized, and Kristen told me that I would have to sign with you to make it legal, but for all intents and purposes, the apartment on the Swift’s land is now yours.”

“The apartment is mine?” I was still confused.

“Kristen also asked if you could move in, more or less permanently. I told her that I’d think about it, and I have. I’m not going to be happy with you leaving the house…”

“You’re letting me move in?” I interrupted.

Mom nodded, a tear welling up in her eye. She dabbed at it with a tissue that I didn’t notice in her hand. “Yes, Jim. You’ve proven to me that you’re a lot more mature than your age would suggest. It’s obvious that Kristen is head over heels in love with you, as are her parents. Seeing the show you put on for her this afternoon made me proud, Jim!”

My mother hugged me tightly, and I saw Kristen approach the two of us. Mom saw this and moved away quickly.

“What did your mom say?” Kristen asked.

“She told me that I could move in with you.”

Kristen literally picked me up and hugged me. “That’s wonderful, Jim!”

I saw mom later talking with her husband. He didn’t seem too upset with what she was telling him, which surprised me.

It took almost a week to completely move my things into the apartment.

Chapter 16—Ticket Abuse

Ya got trouble! (Oh, ya got trouble!)

Ya got lots and lots ‘a trouble!

That game with the fifteen numbered balls

Is the devil’s tool! (Devil’s tool!)

Oh yes, we’ve got trouble, trouble!

(Oh yes, we’ve got trouble here, we’ve got big, big trouble)

With a “T”! (With a capital T!)

That rhymes with P! (That rhymes with P)

That stands for pool! (That stands for pool!)

Robert Preston / Music Man

Ya Got Trouble

About a week after Kristen’s birthday party, I was in the lunchroom. Kristen, Patty, and I were sitting at our usual table.

“Where’s Sherry?” asked Patty.

I looked around and didn’t see Sherry. “I don’t know,” I answered. “She was in History during first period. Maybe she’s with a teacher. Funny, she didn’t mention anything to me.”

The subject of Sherry was dropped as Kristen and Patty started chatting about various colognes. Kristen wanted to do an outing to an upscale department store where Patty could try various scents to find one that was positively Patty’s own.

Of course, I had little interest in the conversation, except for the fact that I thought whatever perfume Kristen used was probably the nicest one in the world. Nobody will ever get me to admit anything else!

I excused myself from the girls, and went to the boys’ room.

As I pushed the door in to the bathroom, I heard a guy’s voice saying something loudly as I opened the door. As a result, I was quiet as I entered, trying to place the voice.

The voice belonged to Tim Hawking, a sophomore who was in the high honors track. Everybody figured him to be a cinch for valedictorian of my grade—he was bookish since Kindergarten. I was amused at how unlike Tim was to somebody like Camille; they were both the smartest kids in their respective classes.

“You know, you really suck at this!” Tim complained.

I don’t know why I continued to be quiet, but the boys’ room was empty, which was normal for the middle of class. There was nobody at the urinals, and it was very unusual for boys to make conversation between stalls. I couldn’t see Tim or whoever it was he was chewing out. Additionally, it seemed so out of character for him; he was usually at the receiving end of such hazing from the bigger students.

It took a few moments before I saw that one of the toilet stalls was occupied, confirming my suspicions that Tim was in one of them. I saw a pair of jeans crumbled at the base of a pair of a guy’s legs. I also saw somebody kneeling between his legs—a pair of silky legs that looked like a dancer’s legs. The fact that I could make out a short white skirt that came down just below where the barrier panel to the toilet was made me realize that the kneeling legs most definitely didn’t belong to a male.

There was a girl kneeling between Tim’s legs as he was sitting on the toilet!

I wasn’t really interested in Tim’s love life—we hung out in different circles. Still, the act seemed so blatant—totally unlike the Tim that I knew. His prior complaint sounded even more out of place to me.

I was still silent when I heard the tell-tale sounds of sucking and grunting that indicated the oral activity that was obviously taking place. I shrugged, and I decided to make myself scarce. I wasn’t against having a quickie at school, but I figured that my activities with Kristen were a bit more discreet. Hall monitors occasionally came into the toilets to make sure there wasn’t any smoking of tobacco or other substances happening; I thought Tim’s lack of discretion would eventually get him caught. I mentally shrugged at the idea. I would have thought Tim to be much smarter than that.

As I tiptoed quietly out the door, I heard Tim once again loudly say, “You are the fucking worst whore that I’ve ever met!”

Well, it wasn’t a big stretch to say that I was quite unimpressed with Tim’s bedroom manner, even if he was actually in the boys’ room. Calling your girlfriend a “whore,” especially in a public place, was not a way to keep a girlfriend. I wondered what kind of girl would take this sort of abuse from a guy.

I walked upstairs to the other boys’ room, and was finally able to relieve myself.

Back in the lunchroom, Patty and Kristen were talking about swimwear, which was a strange subject being that it was still winter here in the Midwest.

Sherry walked into the cafeteria about five minutes before the bell sounded indicating the end of lunch. I looked over to her, and her eyes met mine. Immediately, however, Sherry looked away from me.

What was bugging Sherry? Neither Patty nor Kristen seemed to notice Sherry enter the lunchroom, so I excused myself again and walked over to where Sherry was.

“What’s the matter, Sherry?” I asked. “Teacher problems?”

“Um… nothing… well…” Sherry paused, trying to find the right words to say. “Can I ask you… for… I need help with some homework.”

This was a totally different Sherry I was talking to. Ever since Camille talked Sherry into being a cheerleader, Sherry became more outgoing. Being one of the few sophomores on the varsity cheerleading squad made her part of the “in group” at school.

Right now, I saw none of the confidence that Sherry lately showed. “What’s up, Sherry?”

“Please may I come over to your place and Kristen’s tonight? I need to ask you guys something.”

“Of course, Sherry. Do you want me to ask Kris…?”

“Please!” Sherry begged, interrupting me. “Ask her later. I’ll see you in English and you can let me know if I can’t come over, but it’s very, very important!”

Without waiting for an answer, Sherry ran out the lunchroom door. I watched her leave, completely mystified about Sherry’s behavior.

I looked back at the table where Kristen and Patty were, and they were both looking at me. The bell rang, and the two girls walked over to me.

“What did you say to Sherry to make her run away like that?” Kristen asked me.

“I didn’t. She asked if she could visit us tonight and that it’s very important. I said that I’d first clear it with you, Kris…”

“Of course, she can come over,” Kristen said.

“I figured that. I told her that I was going to ask you and she ran away. I’m not sure what’s bothering her, but it seems to really be upsetting her.”

Patty burned her gaze into me for a moment and then her look softened. “I’m pretty sure she’s over her infatuation phase, Jim. Maybe she’s having problems at home?”

Kristen suggested, “Maybe her cousin Dale?”

I sighed and shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“It better not be Dale!” Kristen said with a menacing coldness to her voice.

“Will you see Sherry later?” Patty asked, turning away from Kristen.

“We have English for last period.”

“If she still seems upset, find me after class,” Patty offered. “I can drive her home, if necessary. I’ll try to find out what’s bothering her.”

“Thanks, Patty,” I said, feeling much better. If anybody could read another person’s emotions, it was Patty.

Patty turned back to Kristen and said, “We’ll find out the problem, Kris. I’ll see you when class is over.”

Kristen nodded, her eyes still flashing their anger, obviously thinking about Dale.

The two of us watched the red head leave the lunchroom.

“I need to get to gym,” I told Kristen.

“Yeah,” Kristen said, anger still in her voice.

Gym was uneventful, and I put thoughts of Sherry behind me during the class. I attended French class afterward, and thought a bit about Sherry, but figured that either Patty or I would get to the bottom of things by the end of the day.

As I was leaving French, my seventh period class, I found Camille waiting for me at the door to my classroom.

“Jim!” Camille said. “I need to speak with you.”

“Sure, Cammy,” I said. “I’m heading to English…”

“You’re going to have to skip it, Jim. It’s very important.”

This was a day of mysteries and “very important” things.

I sighed. Camille was a real friend, however, and I could never turn her request down.

“Let me find Sherry and tell her that I’m not…”

“No, Jim,” Camille said. “This is important, and I’m pretty sure it concerns her.”

Now I was really interested. Maybe Camille could explain Sherry’s weird behavior.

Camille and I went toward the band room. It was one room that I had access to, and I knew that it was empty after seventh period, which is when the orchestra rehearsed. Mr. Ryan, the orchestra leader, might still be there, but he never had any problem with me coming and going at any time.

I passed Amy Grant on my way into the band room. She gave me a shy smile as I passed her.

The band room, as it turned out, was empty, and Mr. Ryan was just leaving the room. He smiled at me and didn’t say anything about me using the room with Camille.

I turned to Camille. “What’s up…”

“Jim, something terrible has happened… is happening right now!” Camille looked frantic.

“Tell me what it is.”

“Do you know Tim Hawking?” Camille asked.

What a coincidence! I had walked in on Tim getting a blow job in the boys’ room earlier and now Camille just mentioned him.

All of a sudden, I realized where I saw those athletic legs and the short white skirt. Sherry was the girl in the bathroom with Tim!

Camille must have seen the expression on my face. My blood ran cold as I realized that Sherry was the person who Tim referred to as a whore and how her oral talents sucked.

“Tim Hawking and Sherry Jordan,” I said.

“Tim Hawking and almost half of the entire fucking cheerleading squad,” Camille said.

“What?” I nearly shouted. Tim was not the kind of person who would attract the amorous attentions of most of the cheerleaders. Well, neither was I, although most of the cheerleaders were quite friendly to me after Kristen’s Halloween party, Sherry’s initiation, and Kristen’s birthday party.

“Well, with what I’ve heard of his attitude, he won’t be with many of the cheerleaders for long,” I said.

“You were there with him! I saw you come out of the boys’ room!” Camille said.

“I walked in and heard he was doing something in the bathroom. I discreetly left as soon as I noticed. I didn’t realize he was with Sherry until just now.”

Camille shook her head, as if I wasn’t getting it. “You don’t understand, Jim!”

“Huh? What don’t I understand?”

“Tim Hawking has tickets!”

I felt the blood drain from my face as Camille uttered those words to me.

* * *

I steadied my breath. “What do you know about Tim and the tickets?” I asked.

Camille spat out. “That mother fucker gave one to me!”

“Oh, no…”

“No, Jim,” Camille said. “I mean, he looked so confident when he gave it to me. I looked at it for a second, not believing it, when I realized that if I didn’t pretend to react, he’d know that there’s something special about me.”

“You went along with it?”

“He just asked for a blow job. He told me to go into the bathroom and blow him. I’ve done worse before.”

“And you did?” I asked, looking at Camille’s outfit. Although I now knew that it was Sherry with Tim during lunch, it seemed to be an automatic response.

“He tried to make me go into boys’ room, but since he wasn’t specific when he asked me, I told him that I’d only do it in the girls’ locker room,” Camille explained. “He almost gave me another ticket, but decided that he wouldn’t mind visiting there after all. I chose that room because I knew the coaches don’t have class during second period. Anyway, I did him, and he wasn’t very nice about it. He has a mouth on him. I would be damned if I gave him anything good, though, which is probably why he complained so much.”

I shook my head.

“Fuck him!” Camille spat again. “Anyway, he tells me that he heard that I should be better, and that I’m a prissy cunt. He then gives me another fucking ticket, and tells me to practice improving my oral skills every night, to learn how to deep throat, and to be ready for him on Saturday.”

“Saturday?” I asked, confused.

“My cousin Jackie is throwing a party, and he must have found out from one of the cheerleaders. I was going to invite you and Kristen, and then this asshole comes up and makes me blow him during second period. I was steaming mad when I got to the lunch room during the next period, when Maria told me to tell Jackie that she invited Tim Hawking.”

“Oh, fuck! Maria, too?”

Camille nodded. “I went looking for you during fourth period. I saw Kristen and Patty, but you were nowhere to be seen. Then I saw you come out of the boys’ room. I was about to run after you when I saw Sherry leave, closely followed by Tim! I hid so that Tim didn’t see me, but I was floored—I thought you and Tim were in cahoots, trying to bang the entire cheerleading squad. I was about to figure a way that I could slice the dicks off of the two of you when I realized that you knew that the tickets don’t work on me.”

I winced at Camille’s description of her concept of vengeance. Camille and Lynette were both quite protective of their squads.

“I didn’t have any idea about Tim, except that I heard him with somebody when I was in the boys’ room. He was quite rude and it embarrassed me. I left before he knew I was in there—it was uncomfortable for me to be there. I didn’t realize he was with Sherry until just now.”

“How the fuck did he get your tickets?” Camille asked.

My eyes shot open—Camille was right! I fumbled for my attaché case, and opened it. I looked for and found my tickets. “They’re here,” I said. “Did the tickets that Tim give you disappear?”

“Um, no,” Camille said. “They only disappear when they’re used. He didn’t use his…”

Camille opened her purse and pulled out two tickets. I looked at the numbers. “196 and 197.”

I looked at my roll. I knew that I didn’t use nearly two hundred of them. I saw that the first one was 38.

“He didn’t get them from my roll,” I said.

“There are two rolls of tickets?” Camille asked, suddenly horrified.

“I don’t know,” I said.

For all I knew, there could be hundreds of them. I didn’t want to consider that right now in front of Camille, who felt herself a victim of them. Even two rolls were bad enough.

Suddenly, something else fell into place. “Wait. Did you say that Tim asked you to practice giving head?”

Camille’s eyes darkened as I reminded her.

I didn’t need her to answer, but added, “Every night?”

Camille nodded, still fuming.

“Oh, my god. Sherry!”

“What, Jim?” Camille asked, confused.

“Sherry asked to come over to Kristen’s apartment. It looked as if she was ashamed…”

“Oh, fuck, Jim. This ain’t funny at all. He’s going to destroy the girls’ lives!”

I nodded sadly. How do you fight somebody who has tickets?

“Where does Tim have his tickets?” I asked.

“He pulled the ones he gave me out of his jacket pocket.”

“He probably keeps them handy in case an emergency comes up,” I said, mostly to myself. I followed the thought and realized that it meant that I couldn’t give a ticket to, say, one of the bigger students, and have him knock Tim unconscious. If Tim managed to give the guy a ticket first, he could find out that I was the person who set him up.

“I’ve got to think this through, Cammy!” I said.

I calmed myself down, and considered my options.

After a few moments, I realized that I had three advantages over Tim. First, I possessed my own roll of tickets, and Tim may not know about them. Second, I knew that Camille seemed to be immune to their effects—even Tim’s, thank goodness. Third, Kristen and Patty knew about the tickets. Now, even if Tim managed to find his tickets the same time that I did—and this was unlikely, or we probably would have heard of his antics sooner—Camille probably had the most experience with the tickets, even if only on the receiving end.

I pointed this out to Camille, who had already reached the same conclusions. We talked about possible situations, but didn’t come up with anything concrete. Camille had an interesting suggestion which might work on alleviating Sherry’s orders, however.

In addition, Camille agreed that Kristen could be a good ally. We needed to come up with a foolproof plan by Saturday afternoon.

“Oh, Jim?” Camille said right before the class bell rang.

“Yes?”

“I know that I’ve thanked you for showing maturity with those tickets,” Camille said, giving me a friendly kiss. “Now I better warn you: Kristen might be on Tim’s list of targets. She is the richest girl in school, probably in the county!”

Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!

* * *

Kristen was at her Camaro when I ran out of school. “Kristen, quick, we need to get to the apartment fast!”

Kristen didn’t ask me why, but she got into the car and before I even my seat belt was fastened, she was peeling rubber out of the parking lot.

“Where’s the fire, Jim?” Kristen asked.

“Tim Hawking,” I said.

“Tim who?”

I looked at Kristen. There was nothing on her face that told me that she was playing dumb.

“Tim Hawking. He’s the high honors nerd in tenth grade.”

“I might have heard of him, but his name doesn’t really ring a bell,” Kristen said.

“Kristen, do you trust me?” I asked, seriously.

“Of course, Jim.”

“I’ve been told of an emergency. It involves Camille, Sherry, and probably all the cheerleaders.”

“You’ve been invited to Jackie Lombardi’s orgy!” Kristen smiled.

“Orgy?” I asked, shocked.

Kristen laughed. “Her party. Camille asked me about it before homeroom. We’re free on Saturday. Camille was going to ask you about it sometime today.”

I sighed.

Kristen pulled through the security gate and into our driveway.

I didn’t feel good until I looked back and saw the gate close.

Once we were parked, I pulled a ticket from my attaché case and said, “Here, have a ticket.”

“You have one wish,” Kristen intoned.

“Kristen, I want you to be aware of me making this request. I want you to honestly answer the next two questions.”

“Your wish is my command,” Kristen said. “What the fuck is this?” Kristen demanded.

I knew that I would be sorry no matter how Kristen answered this next question. “Do you know Tim Hawking and have you received a lucky ticket from anybody other than me?”

“No, and yes, and what is this shit?”

“Whoa there! No and yes?”

Kristen looked at me, confused. She nodded, but didn’t seem to understand.

I gave Kristen another ticket.

“You have one wish.”

“I want you aware of me making this request, also. I want you to tell me exactly who, other than me, has given you a lucky ticket.”

“Debbie Lombardi gave me some a few years back and has given me a ticket to make me forget what she asked. The only thing that I can tell you is that none of her wishes other than the one to forget are still in effect, although she has about twenty thousand dollars of my money.”

Kristen shook her head. “What the fuck was that all about? Debbie Lombardi has tickets?” After a few seconds, Kristen shouted, “TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS! I got in all sorts of trouble for that!”

“It’s a long story, Kris,” I said. “I’m sorry if it sounds as if I don’t trust you, but I needed to do this,” I said, truly sorry. “Tim Hawking is a tenth grader and he’s using Lucky Tickets to have sex with the cheerleaders. I figured that you might be a possible target due to your wealth.”

“I have no idea who the fuck…” Kristen paused, her eyes opening wide. “You said Debbie Lombardi has tickets. Now there’s somebody else in school who also has tickets?”

“Debbie had tickets,” I said, emphasizing the fact that it was past tense. “At least, she did according to Camille,” I added.

“How does Camille know?” Kristen asked.

Oh, fuck. I never told Kristen about Camille.

I decided to skirt that question, and instead told Kristen about the boys’ room during third period, and what Camille told me about second period.

Kristen’s eyes narrowed at me as I told my story. I could see her getting angrier and angrier as I continued.

Finally, when I was finished, Kristen simply shook her head. “You are lying to me, Jim.”

Before I could answer, Kristen stormed out of the car and went upstairs into our apartment.

I sat quietly for a few moments before getting out of the car.

I tried the door that led into the back of the garage. It wasn’t locked. That was a good sign. I may own the deed to the apartment, but I lived there with Kristen’s good graces.

As soon as I entered the apartment, Kristen threw a pillow at me. “You sleep in the living room, Jim!”

“Kristen, please listen to me!” I begged.

Kristen shook her head. “You lied to me, Jim! Camille couldn’t intentionally do a bad job with a boy. Debbie told me… well, everybody knows that Camille has a lot of experience. And Camille couldn’t know about his tickets if she was given one.”

“Tickets don’t work on Camille,” I blurted out.

Kristen looked at me. After a minute of silence, she slowly asked, “What did you say?”

“Tickets don’t work on her,” I said. “I promise, Kris. It’s what we talked about a few weeks ago at Lake Shore Point.”

I could see a million thoughts entering Kristen’s head. Before she could ask her questions, I said, “We have another problem, Kris. Remember how weird Sherry acted in the lunchroom? I believe that she’s been told to practice giving blow jobs and to learn deep throat. She asked to come here, Kris!”

“Sherry?”

“Yes. I also invited Camille over.”

Kristen rolled her eyes. “You are not going to have an orgy here!”

I gave Kristen a dirty look that must have worked because her look almost immediately softened.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” Kristen said. “It’s just that… you know… those tickets… I mean, you don’t use them… or at least I don’t think you do…”

“Please, Kristen,” I said. “I know that I hurt you with them, and I have stopped using them. However, we now have to deal with the fact that somebody else also has them.”

Kristen was quiet for a few moments. I could see her start to calm down. “I still don’t think that I want Sherry to be practicing on you…”

“I think we have a solution for that,” I said, remembering Camille’s brilliant idea. “Camille has a… well… she has one of those… rubber…” I couldn’t continue.

After a few moments, Kristen’s eyes opened wide. “Didoes?” Kristen asked, incredulously.

“Yeah,” I said, reddening. “She says it’s kind of big, but Sherry can practice on that.”

For the first time since I handed Kristen a ticket that day, Kristen actually smiled. “Cammy comes up with the strangest ideas. Now tell me about Debbie Lombardi and Camille.”

I told Kristen most of what I knew that Camille told me a few weeks earlier, omitting some of the things that weren’t very pertinent, including how the tickets had been used on me.

* * *

Camille was at the apartment about a half hour later.

Kristen looked at Camille quite strangely. I decided to demonstrate Camille’s immunity quite dramatically.

Without warning, I pulled out a ticket and handed it to Camille in front of Kristen.

Camille looked at me, and then at Kristen. She said, “Fuck you, Jim!”

Kristen was quite surprised. “Huh?”

“Do you want me to do the ‘You have one wish’ bit, Kris?” Camille asked.

“They really don’t work on you?” Kristen asked.

“I can’t tell you,” Camille said, looking at me for support.

“Now do you believe me, Kris?” I asked.

“Let me see that ticket, Cammy.”

“I… I can’t.”

“Why not?” Kristen asked.

“I can’t tell you,” Camille said, this time looking extremely frustrated.

I didn’t expect this. “It might be because if she hands it to you, you’ll be forced to grant a wish.”

Camille shook her head. “I can’t tell you,” she repeated.

“Kristen, if and when I find out, I’ll let you know as much as I can possibly tell you,” I assured my Goddess. I had told Kristen earlier that Camille could only talk about the tickets with me.

Kristen looked from Camille to me and decided that she should change the subject.

“Where’s your toy?” Kristen asked Camille.

Camille finally smiled. She had a bag with her, and she rooted around on the bottom of it and pulled out a realistic looking penis, if you considered a thirty inch double-ended penis to look “realistic.”

“Ooh,” Kristen said, her eyes transfixed. “It looks like it was made for sharing!”

Camille rolled her eyes at that remark.

“Put that away,” I said to Camille. “It’s making me feel inadequate!”

Kristen laughed and said, “Oh, poor Oogie Woogie! I’m quite familiar with yours, and you should be proud.”

I received one of Kristen’s patented dick hardening kisses.

After we broke our kiss, Camille asked Kristen, “May I try?”

Camille showed me that despite Kristen’s patent, she was quite capable of giving me her own version of that same kiss.

As Camille kissed me, Kristen unfastened my pants, and showed me that she had the fucking nerve to actually measure me against that rubber monster that Camille brought with her!

After Camille and I broke our kiss, Camille looked down and said, “I haven’t seen that since New Year’s Day.”

“Don’t be getting any ideas, Cammy,” Kristen said, laughing.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I’m glad Kristen wasn’t angry at me about all this.

* * *

Sherry arrived about seven in the evening. Her mother announced Sherry over the intercom.

“Come on up,” I said, trying not to scare Sherry too much.

Sherry arrived in the apartment a couple of minutes later. She seemed surprised to see Camille in the apartment.

Before Sherry could tell us her problem, Camille took over. “Jim, Kristen, and I know all about Tim Hawking.”

Sherry looked shocked. “He said… I mean… I’m supposed…”

I had a ticket at the ready. I handed it to Sherry.

“You have one wish,” she monotoned.

“You are not to obey any of Tim Hawking’s wishes.”

“I cannot grant that wish.”

Shit! It was worth a shot, anyway. I tried another strategy. “All right, then,” I said. “You will no longer accept a ticket from Tim Hawking.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Sherry looked confused.

I handed Sherry another ticket.

“You have one wish.”

“You will not find Tim Hawking in any way attractive.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Sherry shook her head. “What’s happening to me? Things are starting to go weird…” Sherry looked quite confused for a moment. “It’s been a fucking weird day!”

“As Cammy told you,” I said, “we know about Tim Hawking. Camille has a way for you to obey him without involving me.”

“Huh?” Sherry asked, confused.

Camille reached into her bag and pulled out that monster dildo.

I excused myself and went downstairs. I didn’t have any intention of embarrassing Sherry while the girls gave her “lessons” in orally pleasing a guy.

For Kristen’s birthday, one of her mother’s presents was for the two of us. It was a pool table, and we put it into one of the rooms downstairs that Kristen earmarked as a new playroom. I decided that if I were to build a music studio, it would be nice to have a good stereo and some entertainment nearby, so we made one of the rooms a playroom and Kristen taught me how to play pool.

Kristen was a much better player than me, but she was helpful in showing me how to improve my game. She said that when I got better on the bank shots, she’d teach me nine-ball.

I played a few games, and in the middle of my fourth rack the girls came downstairs.

I didn’t look at any of the girls, but continued to attempt to sink the balls numerically. I just sunk the nine and was aiming at the ten. I didn’t even look up as I said, “How did the lesson go?”

“We managed,” Camille said, not wanting to embarrass Sherry.

“Want to play teams after you finish this rack?” Kristen asked.

“Which teams?” I asked.

Camille answered. “Jim and I, Sherry and Kris.”

I looked up from my shot. “Really?” Up until that day, I never played with anybody other than Kristen.

“Eight ball, Sherry breaks,” Camille said.

Camille sounded quite sure of herself.

“Stakes?” Kristen asked.

“I have twenty dollars,” Camille said.

Kristen and I never played for money before. We played our own variation, strip pool, but I wouldn’t suggest that with Sherry around.

“Want any handicap?” Kristen asked, grinning.

“Jim. Sherry’s your handicap!”

Kristen giggled, while Sherry and I blushed.

“Who breaks?” Kristen asked.

Camille said, “Sherry.”

Kristen laughed as I sunk the fifteen. She was going to show Camille how ruthless she was at games of skill.

Camille helped me assemble and rack the balls. She did it quite professionally.

Sherry saw the rack of cues, and picked one that was probably about three inches too long for her. When Kristen was teaching me the basics, she told me to use smaller cues as a way for me to learn control, and she now suggested a different smaller cue for Sherry. Sherry took her suggestion without comment.

Camille picked out the cue that happened to be Kristen’s favorite. When Camille noticed Kristen’s reaction, she handed it to my Goddess and took another one of similar size.

Sherry inexpertly chalked her cue and Kristen helped her line up her shot. It wasn’t quite strong enough, but a striped ball managed to fall.

“Stripes!” Kristen called, proudly.

Camille simply shrugged.

Sherry tried to line up another shot from a long diagonal. Her target bounced onto the two corner rails instead of into the pocket.

“May I?” Camille asked me.

“Of course,” I answered Camille, regally. “Age before beauty.”

“Hey!” Camille protested, but continued lining up her shot.

Camille managed to clear the solids. I noticed after she banked the three ball that she ran them numerically, finishing with a two bank shot that sunk the eight ball.

The three of us realized that Kristen was just hustled on her own table! We all laughed at the dumbfounded expression on Kristen’s face.

“You guys never ask me where I spend my Sundays,” Camille said, sticking her tongue out and collecting Kristen’s twenty dollar bill. “Since I was twelve years old, I’ve been playing at the Brew Lounge.”

“You need to be eighteen to go there,” I pointed out.

Camille shrugged. “Sunday afternoons they allow me to play for a couple of hours in between lunch and the time the real players come in. Fifty cents a game to cover the coin slots, and Louie used to teach me shots when the bar was mostly empty.”

“Louie?” Kristen asked.

“Used to be the bartender there until he passed away,” Camille said. “I used to go there to get away from… my sister.”

Kristen and I nodded. Kristen now knew about Camille’s relationship with her sister. Sherry also seemed to know that Camille had a rocky relationship with her sister.

“You’re welcome to use our table here if you ever want to use a table for free,” Kristen offered. “Sherry, too,” Kristen quickly added.

Camille laughed. “I haven’t paid for a game since I was thirteen. The guys thought it was cute that such a young girl would play them for the cost of a game.”

“You’re both still welcome.”

“Maybe I’ll take you up on it. I bet Jim can use a better teacher.”

“Hey!” Kristen objected.

“I need to get home,” Sherry said, quietly.

“What time is your mother picking you up?” I asked.

“She should be here in five minutes.”

We all went back upstairs, since the main house intercom wasn’t yet wired into the playroom.

The intercom was buzzing just as we entered the apartment. “Miss Kristen, Mrs. Jordan is here to pick up her daughter,” Wally said as Kristen answered the intercom.

“Where is she?” Kristen asked.

“She’s just entering the parking area,” Wally answered.

The four of us went back downstairs to drop Sherry off.

“What’s in the bag?” Sherry’s mother asked her daughter as she entered the car.

Before Sherry could answer, Camille opened the bag and pulled out what I recognized were the pompoms that the cheerleaders used last year. “For practice,” Camille explained. She most certainly did not reveal the rest of the contents of the bag, and Mrs. Jordan didn’t bother to ask.

We all bade the mother and daughter good-bye, and watched the car depart.

Instead of going back to the apartment, Kristen and Camille headed straight for the pool table.

The two girls showed me how to play a game they called Cutthroat. Apparently, the normal rules were that each of us were given five balls, and the object was to sink your opponents’ balls.

Of course, I was the first one out, followed by Kristen.

Neither girl thought this was quite fair, so they improvised new rules. Each girl would have ten balls, both of them sharing my balls.

No matter how we played the game, Camille won.

I eventually grew tired of losing, and ended up watching the two girls play.

Kristen asked Camille if she’d like to spend the night in the spare room. Camille only accepted when Kristen promised to allow her to wear one of her outfits to school the next day.

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, I noticed Kristen wasn’t in bed. I went to the bathroom, and Kristen wasn’t in there, either. I looked all through the apartment, and noticed that the spare bedroom was empty as well; Camille’s bed didn’t even look as if it was even slept in.

“Wally?” I called out.

“Steve here, Jim,” answered the intercom.

“Sorry,” I said, forgetting that Steve did the night shift. “Any idea where Kris may be? Is she in the main house?”

There was a delay. “I show the lights on in the pool room.”

Pool? “Do you mean the Solarium or the room downstairs over here?”

“Downstairs—your billiard room, sir.”

I sighed. “Thanks, Steve.”

Since I was only wearing boxers, I went back into the bedroom and grabbed my robe. I decided against slippers and went barefoot downstairs into the playroom.

The girls were playing pool. Kristen was completely nude, and Camille was topless. Camille was holding a cue in her hand. There was only the nine ball on the table. “If I sink this on a bank, I get you as a slave for two weeks, or a night with Jim.”

“A night with who?” I asked.

Both girls were startled when they noticed that I was in the room.

“Jim! What are you doing up so late?” Kristen asked.

“Late?” I asked. “It’s six thirty in the morning!”

“Really?” both girls asked together.

Camille laughed. “Kristen is a compulsive gambler.” I watched Camille line up an unusual shot. The cue ball lay just inside one of the corner holes, and the nine ball was positioned in the exact same position inside the corner hole opposite on the same end of the table. Instead of making the short shot from one pocket to the other, Camille was going to bank the shot.

Knowing what I did about bank shots, I figured that Camille would aim for the direct center of the opposite rail on the other side of the table to make a V-shot toward the corner. I never had any luck with this sort of shot, and wanted to see how Camille would do it.

Camille wasn’t aiming where I expected, though. Instead, she was aiming for a spot between the opposite side pocket and the corner diagonal pocket. Camille took her shot, and it hit where Camille aimed, bounced to the center of the rail between the two opposite corners, then bounced on the side rail almost exactly opposite the first cushion she hit. The ball continued its motion and just missed the nine ball.

“Aha!” Kristen laughed, as the ball’s speed was much slower now due to all the banks.

The ball continued moving, albeit slowly, and hit the rail next to the corner and then banked one more time to hit the nine ball with a perfect kiss, sending it into the hole with the cue aiming safely away from the hole.

Kristen’s jaw dropped. I replayed that shot in my mind a few times. If you drew a picture of the ball’s motion, it would look like a fish without the tail completed.

“Which is it, Kris?” Camille taunted. “A week of slavery or a night with Jim?”

Kristen looked crushed. She didn’t seem to like either alternative. “How about more money?”

“I’m up over six thousand already,” Camille said. “If I accept more, I’ll have to start declaring income tax!”

“Six thousand?” I asked, totally shocked. “You bet six thousand on a game of pool?”

“Nine ball,” Kristen corrected. “And the last money bet was only a thousand.”

“I refused to continue allowing Kristen to ‘double or nothing’ at five thousand, one hundred,” Camille explained with a smirk.

“Five thousand, one hundred and twenty,” Kristen corrected. “You’ve got to lose sometime.”

“Six thousand dollars?” I repeated.

Camille explained. “Kristen is of the opinion that there is luck in a game of nine ball.”

“Six thousand?” I repeated, waiting for Kristen to answer me.

Kristen looked at me. “Six thousand, one hundred, twenty dollars, plus five nights with Camille, all the clothes that I was wearing, an hour that I have to diddle Cammy, and now an additional two weeks of complete slavery. I also had to kiss Camille’s breasts.”

“Are you guys fucking crazy?” I asked.

“I’m fucking you,” Kristen answered sweetly.

“You need help, Kris,” I said, quite angry. I turned my back to Kristen and decided to leave this completely intolerable situation.

As I walked out of the playroom, Camille said, “I’m not holding you to any of this, Kris. I was just happy to play.”

Kristen didn’t come back into the apartment for ten minutes. She came in with Camille.

I set out scrambled eggs, low-fat bacon, some English muffins, and coffee. Kristen did not look me directly in my eyes.

I remembered this sort of reckless behavior. It was my real father, the alcoholic. I wanted to shake some sense into Kristen, but I realized that this wouldn’t work. I learned that alcoholism was a sickness, and Kristen’s compulsive gambling was similar. A sickness. Maybe my tickets could help her, but I was feeling quite sensitive about the tickets with the Tim Hawking situation.

“Jim…”

If Kristen couldn’t look me in the eyes, then I knew that I didn’t want to hear what she was going to say.

“Not now, Kris. Eat.”

“But, Jim…”

“Jim is right, Kris,” Camille said, softly.

* * *

After breakfast, Kristen went to the bedroom. I knew that she was going to take a shower, which usually was a two person activity.

“I was pulling her leg, Jim,” Camille said.

“Kristen is fiercely competitive,” I said. “If she owes you money, she’ll pay. She’ll probably even be your slave. You should have known better once you realized that she wouldn’t stop.”

“I was having too much fun watching her get angry,” Camille admitted.

“Having fun is one thing,” I said. “Feeding a sickness is another.”

“I know,” Camille said, casting her eyes downward. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to be angry with you, Cammy,” I said softly. “Kris’ problem is a distraction now. We still need to figure out the answer on how to deal with Tim Hawking. Let’s focus on that. Let’s avoid pool for now and work together on dealing with Tim.”

I really had no intention of staying angry at either girl for long. Yes, Kristen was my Goddess, but she was also human. She may have her own weaknesses and problems, and I would learn to deal with them. Maybe Camille’s making Kristen’s gambling obvious would make it easier to deal with it sooner, before Kristen did anything that she’d really regret.

I left Camille and went into the bedroom. The door to the bathroom was open, and I could hear the water running.

I took off my robe, my boxers, and then entered the shower with my Goddess.

Kristen turned around when she felt me enter the shower and she gave me one of the biggest kisses she ever gave me.

“I’m sorry,” Kristen said when we finally broke our kiss.

“We’ll work it through,” I said.

I saw hope in Kristen’s eyes as I started to soap her lovely body.

After we emerged, Camille was already dressed in one of Kristen’s more modest outfits.

“Jim,” Camille said. “Before we leave, you should do something.”

“What?” I asked.

“Remember the last two wishes you told Sherry?”

Oh, yeah. I delayed doing this before, since I didn’t want to do it in front of Sherry, but I realized that I needed to “protect” Kristen as well. In fact, it might be a good idea to “protect” the entire cheerleading squad.

I pulled out a ticket and Kristen took it.

“You have one wish.”

“You will never accept a lucky ticket from anybody other than me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

I smiled, but my smile faded when I realized that I added the “anybody other than me” part.

Was I really that much better than Tim Hawking?

Chapter 17—Another Addiction; Another Revelation

Baby, you’ll come knocking on my front door,

Same old line you used to use before.

I said yeah, well,

What am I supposed to do?

I didn’t know what I was getting into.

So you’ve had a little trouble in town?

Now you’re keeping some demon down.

Stop draggin’ my...

Stop draggin’ my...

Stop draggin’ my heart around!

Stevie Nicks / Tom Petty

Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around

I saw Sherry during the three classes we shared the next day, and she usually lowered her eyes as she realized that I knew about the “lessons” she needed to learn. I wished that I could have prevented that bit of embarrassment, but I knew that Camille indeed came up with a less embarrassing solution to her predicament.

I caught up with Sherry at the end of the day.

“Have you seen Tim Hawking today?” I asked.

“That loser?” Sherry said, making a face. “I saw him after third period, but I managed to turn away before he said anything to me.” She shuddered.

I smiled. The command I gave her seems to have worked.

Kristen was sitting in her Camaro when I got out to the parking lot.

Inside the car, Kristen was so angry I thought she’d burn a hole in the dashboard where she was glaring.

“What’s up, Goddess?” I asked.

“A nerdy little brat tried to give me something that looked like your lucky tickets,” Kristen spat. “I told him if he ever tried to give anything to me, he’s lose both his hands and another appendage of my choice. To think, a kid like him…”

It wasn’t so long ago that I was a kid like Tim Hawking, but I kept my comment to myself.

“I’m sorry, Jim. It just bothered me. I mean, the nerve…”

“Think of it this way,” I pointed out. “He didn’t hand you the ticket, did he?”

“No…” Kristen said, slowly.

“At least, I was able to protect you. I don’t think I have enough tickets to protect the entire world, though.” I sighed.

Kristen started the car, her spirits a bit brighter.

“What was his expression like when you didn’t take his ticket?”

Kristen actually smiled, now. “His mouth hung open so wide, I wouldn’t have been surprised if a cat walked into it.”

I laughed, both out of Kristen’s choice of words, and how surprised Tim must have really looked.

Tuesday evening, Camille came over, and we discussed how we could possibly deal with Tim by Saturday. No ideas came up, and there were a few questions I needed to ask Camille in private.

Finally, I went downstairs to practice a few racks of pool. I found that thinking of other things, like lining up the miraculous shot Camille made that morning, might keep me sane. After three attempts, I realized that you needed to hit the ball quite hard just to make it to the fourth bank.

“A little right English,” Camille said when she saw my attempt.

“Huh?” I asked.

“Right English—hit the cue just a bit to the right and maybe a little bit higher than its center of mass. Hit it strong and the spin on the ball will make sure the banks will hit correctly.”

I tried to hit the cue the way that Camille described. I made it closer but still missed, only hitting the ball out of the corner.

“That’s better. Now aim just to the right of this diamond.” Camille indicated a diamond on the bank. She put her finger at the point where I was supposed to aim.

I tried it again, and let it rip.

The ball hit all four banks and the nine ball slowly sank into the pocket.

“That’s it. Piece of cake. It’s a sucker shot.”

“Sucker shot?” I asked.

“You practice this until you get it perfect. Make sure your percentage is about nine out of ten. When I was playing with Kris, it was very difficult to get the eight ball sunk with the nine and cue at the perfect setup. Kristen never realized that I was working to get into the right position and probably thought I was just showing off.”

“You practiced that shot?” I asked, laughing at Camille’s deviousness.

“As I said, I really loved seeing Kristen get angry. I wasn’t trying to make her gamble.”

“Stop apologizing,” I said softly.

“Kristen’s not coming down here,” Camille said.

“I know,” I admitted. “Kristen realizes now why I was upset. I didn’t even have to tell her.”

“Why were you so upset?” Camille asked.

“My dad was an alcoholic,” I said.

“Oh,” Camille answered.

There was a minute of uncomfortable silence.

“Want to play a game?”

“No,” I said. “You can teach me more sucker shots, though.”

“How about simple bank shots? They will come in more handy for when you actually play.”

Camille showed me some of the standard bank shots. She taught me about putting spin (“English”) on a ball, and how it affects bank shots, and how it’s useful to get around an inconveniently placed ball.

As I was taking a shot, I asked Camille, “Why couldn’t you give Kristen a ticket yesterday?”

Camille looked at me seriously. “I knew you’d ask that. I’m not exactly sure what would happen but I don’t want to do anything that could possibly affect the fact that the tickets don’t work on me right now. If I use them—even once—then I might end up stuck with them again.”

“Why couldn’t you tell us yesterday?” I asked.

“I cannot talk about the tickets except to you. Having Kristen helping us with ideas may become difficult for me. Forgive me if it looks like I can’t tell you something when she’s around.”

I nodded. “I once tried giving the roll to Kristen and asked her to hand me one. She told me that my wish couldn’t be granted. How did your sister get rid of her tickets? If she got rid of them, then maybe we can trick Tim into losing his.”

Camille shrugged.

“How did you get rid of them?”

“I cannot answer that question.”

I nodded, and took a few more shots before I realized that I had asked the wrong question, but Camille also gave me the wrong answer!

Up until this moment, Camille told me that she just avoided the tickets. Now she implied that she got rid of them, which might mean that she actually may have had possession of them at one time.

I’m not sure if Camille realized her mistake, but she changed the subject. “Tim’s going to find out something is strange about Sherry and Kristen. In fact, Kris told me that he already knows they don’t work on her.”

“Kris just had a hissy fit when he tried to give it to her,” I pointed out. “Maybe he just thinks that she’s a bit stuck up.” I thought to myself, and slowly added. “I know that I used to think that about her.”

“He’s going to notice that Kristen and you are inseparable. You might be a possible target, and maybe possibly Patty.”

I put Patty on my list of people to protect from Tim.

“I’d hate to receive a ticket from him,” I sighed. “It might work and he might find out about my tickets. I’m also afraid of trying to give him a ticket first—if it doesn’t work, it would give away one of our secrets!”

“I’d say that things are about to come to a head real soon. It looks as if the two of you are heading full steam ahead into each other.”

I sunk my third bank in a row as I nodded to Camille.

We didn’t talk much more about Tim or the magical tickets. Instead, Camille gave me a couple of pointers on how to hold the cue to get better control.

After a half hour, the two of us went upstairs.

The apartment looked empty, but the door to the master bedroom was closed.

The two of us went into separate bedrooms.

* * *

The next morning, after breakfast, Kristen went back to the bedroom for her morning shower.

I went to join her, but Camille put her hand on my shoulder. “Jim?”

“Yes, Cammy?”

“It’s… difficult staying here with you two.”

“Huh?”

“The more that I’m with the two of you, the more… I’ve told you that I’m drawn to you, Jim.”

I was confused. “Drawn to me, how?”

“Sexually.”

Oh, shit. I remembered Camille telling me that. I thought we got past that, though.

Camille saw my expression and said, “I’m not sure why I feel that way with you. It might be your tickets, but I know that I don’t feel that way toward Tim Hawking.”

“I’m sorry, Cammy…”

“There’s another problem, Jim.”

“What?” I asked.

“It’s something that I avoided telling you at Lake Shore Point. Staying here has made it worse for me.”

I was confused, but I was starting to get apprehensive. “What are you telling me?”

“I’m also in love with Kristen.”

I thought that I couldn’t be surprised any more. “In love?”

“I think my sister did it to me,” Camille said, her eyes downcast. “I know that I went to Kristen, and she turned me down. I felt so ashamed. I was in love with her, and she just laughed at me. I never really tried to get with her again, and found myself thinking of her constantly, and eventually started to hate her guts. Kristen had this power over me, even if she didn’t know it. I was happy that she was on your list for getting even with the tickets…”

“Huh?” I was stunned by this admission.

“I mean, I figured that you’d teach her a lesson in humility. I really thought of Kristen as a bitch at the time, mostly due to the way I felt about her. I remembered that you didn’t do much with Patty and Wendy, so I figured that we’d have a big laugh at Kristen’s expense. It wasn’t until the next day that I realized that you could become the same monster that Debbie became… and I was helping you!”

I sighed once more.

Camille saw my reaction, and softly said, “But you made it better…”

“I know,” I said sadly. “We talked about that.”

Camille shook her head. “I always felt guilty about that. I love Kristen. Only three people know this. Debbie, who probably is the one that made me love her; Lynette, after she told me that she had a crush on Kristen as well; and you.”

I didn’t know Lynette well enough, but was surprised to hear from Camille that she might have lesbian tendencies. “Lynette?”

“Lynette and I fool around, and I doubt my sister had anything to do with that. I’m not in love with Lynette like I am with Kristen, though.” Camille closed her eyes for a few moments and continued. “Anyway, Lynette and I don’t advertise our relationship to the world, and it’s not like we’re going to spend our lives together. Aside from any girls that Debbie made me do, Lynette may be the only one that I did by my own choice. Even so, sometimes, I find myself thinking of Kristen when I’m with Lynette.”

I didn’t know how to respond to this, so I said nothing.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” Camille said, hugging me. “I don’t want to steal Kristen away from you.”

“I don’t think you could,” I said with a sigh.

“Huh?”

“Kristen still has her addiction, Cammy,” I pointed out. “If she decides to sleep with you one day, she will still need me. I don’t like that one bit, but I can’t seem to think of anything that I can do to prevent it.”

Camille looked at me for a few moments. “I never thought about that.”

I shrugged. “It’s my mess. I’m going to have to clean it up. I don’t have a clue how, but I will do everything I can. If, afterward, Kristen hates me, then that will be my ultimate punishment for what I did to Kristen last fall.”

Camille hugged me again, and when we finally pulled apart, I could see tears in her eyes. It wasn’t surprising—I had tears in my own.

I decided to grab the bull by the horns.

“Go into the master bedroom, and from there into the bathroom and into the shower. Find the soap while you kiss her. She’ll open her eyes and she’ll be surprised, but start soaping her breasts and whisper, ‘Jim says it’s OK.’”

“Huh?”

“Cammy. I spoke to you in plain English. Isn’t that a language that you, your class’ valedictorian, can speak?”

Camille’s eyes opened wide. “You mean…?”

“Treat her gently,” I advised. “Make her feel good, but don’t make her too worried.”

“Soap her breasts?” Camille asked, still unsure of herself.

“Trust me. Soap her breasts and she’s yours.”

Camille looked at me for a few moments and then walked toward the master bedroom. Before she entered it, she stopped, and turned around, as if she was going to say something.

I waited, but we stood there, staring at each other.

Camille turned as if she were to continue toward the bedroom, but stopped again. She ran back over to me and kissed me. “Thanks, Oogie! You know, you are a real friend to the cheerleaders to help us deal with Tim Hawking!”

I watched Camille tiptoe into the master bedroom to give Kristen an interesting surprise.

After Camille entered the master bedroom, I wondered why I told Camille to take her shower with Kristen. After all, Kristen never gave me permission to do anything like that, and after Camille left, I realized that I hoped I hadn’t crossed a line.

However, Camille alerted me to one of the biggest dangers I faced. She was a friend—more than just a friend—to me, and to Kristen. I think she told me about her love for Kristen and me in a moment of weakness, and if she were to admit that to me, she must have felt it hard.

I knew how hard one can fall for my lovely blonde Goddess, even without the benefit of having that love imposed upon you unwillingly by a ticket. Even with Camille being a female, I knew that Kristen was quite sure of her heterosexuality. I didn’t see the two of us as being competition for Kristen’s affections, just like I didn’t have a problem with Kristen’s apparent ongoing relationship with her brother. I figured that Camille’s love was a different expression of love than mine. Of course, if Kristen didn’t want to swing that way then that would be her choice, but they had been together in that bathroom for a while.

I started to understand the concept that Kristen’s brother Will explained to me: bisexuality. I still didn’t agree with Will completely about it, though. As I mentioned, I felt no jealousy about Kristen and either Camille or Will. The truth of the matter was that what I told Camille before was the one truth that I never told anybody—not even myself!—up until now.

On New Year’s Day, Kristen told me that her addiction made me hers, but in truth, she was quite mistaken. I loved Kristen because she was a wonderful person. She was more mature than me, but also more impulsive. She fit a part of me that I didn’t even suspect needed a connecting part until she was there. On the other hand, I still had moments when I suspected that Kristen’s love for me was just a way for her to get her fix without making her feel less in control.

That was punishment enough for me, I thought. Maybe Kristen and I were doomed to a life where she would never love me as much as I love her, despite all her acting to the contrary.

At the same time, I realized that I might have been more than a bit presumptuous about giving Kristen so casually to Camille. After all, both Kristen and Camille told me that Debbie offered Camille to Kristen and Kris apparently turned her down.

* * *

The girls spent a half hour in the shower. Neither one could look me straight in the eye when they finally came out of my bedroom.

“I was hoping that we’d not be late for school,” I said.

We took Kristen’s Camaro to school. Both girls kissed me as we parked, and got out and headed for homeroom.

I was quite moody, and Sherry noticed my feelings in first period. Between first and second periods, Sherry tried to get me to talk. “What’s up, Jim?”

“I have a lot on my mind,” I said.

Sherry reddened, no doubt believing that I was thinking of her extracurricular “lessons.”

I sighed. I found myself making more mistakes than great decisions lately.

* * *

At lunch, Kristen didn’t appear to be angry at me. In fact, she didn’t appear to be as embarrassed as she was earlier when she came out of her bedroom this morning.

“What’s wrong, Jim?” Patty asked about halfway through lunch.

“Huh?” I asked. I hadn’t been listening to what the girls were saying.

“What’s going on?” Patty asked.

“Problems at home,” I said.

Patty looked at Kristen, who shrugged.

I tuned everybody out and kept on thinking about the situations that I was about to fuck up.

When the class bell rang, it surprised me. Sherry, Patty, and Kristen were all looking at me strangely.

As we left the cafeteria, I held Patty back. “Patty, I need to talk with you… privately.”

“You seemed a million miles away,” Patty said.

“Can you meet me at the band room for a few moments?”

As we were walking toward the music room, I noticed Tim Hawking about halfway down the corridor. I don’t think he saw me, but I immediately spun around, surprising Patty. “Let’s go upstairs and come back downstairs.”

“I’ll be late for class…”

“Please, Patty.”

“All right.”

We took the long way, and finally made it to the band room unmolested.

“What’s up, Jim?” Patty asked.

Instead of answering, I handed Patty a ticket.

“You have one wish.”

“Answer me truthfully the following two questions.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Do you know Tim Hawking, and has anybody other than me ever given you a lucky ticket?”

“Yes, and yes.”

Shit, and more shit!

“Did Tim give you a ticket?” I asked.

“Huh?”

Shit again. I handed Patty another ticket and asked the question again.

“No.”

I sighed. However, if Patty received a ticket from somebody else… who was it?

Another ticket later, I found out: Debbie Lombardi.

I decided that Debbie could wait for a while.

One more ticket later, I protected Patty from Tim Hawking. I left a bewildered Patty behind me and it wasn’t until I got to gym class that I realized that I should have told her the situation with the tickets.

* * *

In the past few days, I used quite a few tickets. So much for my desire to cool down on using them. However, I was starting to feel quite paranoid.

On Wednesday night, I realized that Camille gave me a clue to how I could get more information.

“Camille?” I asked.

“Yes?”

“You said you know where your sister lives.”

Camille nodded.

“Is she still there?” I asked.

“Do you intend to call her?”

Actually, I didn’t. I shook my head. “Kristen, could you get me reservations on a red-eye from Chicago to New York City?”

Both girls’ eyes went wide.

* * *

The “New York City” I envisaged in my mind was Manhattan: big buildings, large crowds, Wall Street, the Empire State Building, the World Trade Center, and the Chrysler building.

Camille’s sister lived in Queens, which was still New York City, but not on Manhattan island. From La Guardia, I took a cab to the apartment where I was told Debbie lived. Kristen had given me a lot of cash for such expenses, which were in various pockets and in my shoes. After all, New York had a reputation!

As I was driven, I could see the world famous skyline and I guess I stared like a typical tourist. The cab driver didn’t say much, but I doubted he spoke English very well. When we stopped, I was surprised by the amount of the fare, but paid it and gave the driver a five dollar tip.

At Debbie’s apartment building, I knocked on the door to her apartment, and it opened a bit, with a chain keeping the door from opening too far.

“Hello, Ms. Lombardi,” I said to Debbie Lombardi’s familiar face. “I need to talk with you.”

“How did you get upstairs?”

“A teenager let me come in behind him. Please, I don’t intend to harm you.”

“What’s this about?” Debbie asked. She then furrowed her brow and said, “Do I know you?”

I said the two words that I thought might get me into Debbie Lombardi’s apartment.

They worked. Debbie closed the door, unlatched the chain, and then opened the door to let me inside. Once we were inside, Debbie asked, “How do you know about them?”

“Do you know who I am?” I asked.

“Should I?” Debbie asked, confused. “You look a bit familiar.”

Had I changed that much in three years? “My name is Jim Crittenhouse.”

“Jim? From Illinois?” Debbie was very surprised.

“Yes,” I answered. “Cammy gave me your address.”

“Why?”

I repeated those two words. Debbie looked shocked.

“Is Cammy abusing them?”

“I might be abusing them, Debbie.”

“Huh?”

“I need to know about them. I found somebody else who is using them to ruin people’s lives. I made a few mistakes when I first discovered them, but up until recently, I’ve mostly been using them as a weird ‘truth serum.’”

Debbie looked at me. “That’s strange. I thought Cammy got them.”

“Huh?”

Debbie shook her head. “I was an asshole, Jim. I abused her. I think I may have even abused you, but not very much. You were just a kid. Even when I didn’t abuse them…” Debbie ended with a sigh.

“What happened?”

Debbie sighed. “Why should I tell you?”

“There’s somebody who is trying to ruin people’s lives. You’ve done things like that, and you seem sorry now. I’ve done things like that, and now I’m trying to make things right. This other person tried to rape your sister.”

Once again, Debbie sighed. She got up and went into her kitchen. She came back with a glass full of something that I recognized as whiskey.

Debbie offered me some, and I respectfully declined.

Debbie sighed and told me her story.

* * *

Debbie did indeed have possession of the tickets at one time.

Unfortunately, Debbie abused them. She discovered how they worked with Camille, and then with me. She found out a week or so after she found them that she could make an outrageous wish, and it would be granted, much to her horror. (Debbie never explained what this outrageous wish was, but told me that she swore to never use them again when she saw the consequences.)

It was about a month later that she found the tickets again. This time, she couldn’t help but heed their siren song. (This was another area that I couldn’t get Debbie to talk too much about.)

After a while, Debbie found herself to have bisexual tendencies, although she only did girl-girl things with her sister. (Debbie expected me to be surprised by this revelation; I wasn’t and she was shocked.)

Debbie eventually got sick of her life, and left the Midwest. She wanted to get lost in Manhattan. She used the tickets to get enough money to be comfortable, and to just live her life anonymously.

One day, at a strip club, Debbie met the love of her life, a stripper named Jenny. Once they met, they hit it off immediately. Both of them discovered that they had an attraction for each other, and for the first time, Debbie found herself in love with somebody. She wanted the relationship pure, so Jenny was one of the few people she slept with that she hadn’t seduced using a ticket.

Since Debbie had money, she decided to help Jenny fund a new club that Jenny envisioned. Jenny used to work in a number of “wiggler bars” (her name for strip clubs). Jenny told Debbie about her dream to own a place like the Ansonia Hotel on Broadway, but specializing in women patrons.

It was a shocking idea, but Debbie agreed to it.

The biggest difficulty was obtaining a liquor license. Such a club would be doomed without one, and the licensing bureau was giving them problems. In addition, there were problems with the local Board of Health.

Suddenly, a savior of sorts came into the picture. His name was Vinnie and he offered to help the two women for a small cut into the venture… only twenty percent.

The two girls were witnessing their dream flying away, and agreed that twenty percent wasn’t too much of a price to pay, but only if Vinnie came through and made their problems with liquor and the Board of Health disappear. As soon as they agreed, their problems melted away like ice in a hot oven.

The club opened a year ago.

Vinnie had quite a head for the business. He suggested that Debbie and Jenny get official jobs as “Hostesses,” where they could draw a nice income, and the girls did so.

Things were going fine, but after a few months, Debbie and Jenny noticed that there seemed to be slight problems with the books. They discovered that some of the people that they hired were less than scrupulous.

A bartender, for instance, was caught stealing money. Debbie confronted the guy, using her lucky tickets of course, and found out that he was part of a conspiracy orchestrated by Vinnie to rob the club blind. Vinnie, in addition, had managed to create a whole lot of shady deals that worried the two women.

Instead of firing the bartender, Debbie kept him on, using him to keep tabs on Vinnie.

Vinnie wasn’t a stupid person, and found out that Debbie somehow had some sort of power over the bartender. Before the inevitable confrontation, however, Debbie managed to finally get rid of the tickets, and they disappeared forever. (This was another thing that Debbie would not discuss, no matter how much I asked her.)

This past December, Jenny was found dead in their apartment with slit wrists in the bathtub. Debbie found herself in agony… the person she loved, and one of the few that she never used a ticket on, was dead! There was a suicide note that said that she and Debbie’s bartender were in cahoots, stealing money from the club. The bartender’s body was discovered in the East River soon afterward.

Debbie knew that the suicide note was a fake. It was typed but not signed, and the wording was perfect. Debbie knew that Jenny was notorious in her inability to spell. The police stated that the note was indeed written on the typewriter found in their closet. There was no sign of foul play, but it seemed as if the police were all too eager to call it a suicide and drop the case. Debbie knew in her heart that Vinnie had something to do with Jenny’s death, but she didn’t have any proof.

After Jenny’s funeral, Vinnie confronted Debbie with a notarized transaction that showed that Jenny “sold” her shares in the club to Vinnie. Debbie hired an investigator and found that there was indeed a deposit from Vinnie in Jenny’s checking account. There was also another transaction a week later for a check of a similar amount made out to “cash” and that money was never found.

Debbie realized that Vinnie now owned sixty percent of the club… his original twenty plus Jenny’s forty. As majority owner, he changed a lot of things, including suppliers and employees.

By contract, Debbie must continue to work there for another three years as a “Hostess,” but now that Vinnie controlled the club, he now redefined the job description to be the equivalent of “Stripper.” He also changed the clientele from all women to mostly male.

Now, the club is now just another “wiggler bar,” which is what Debbie and Jenny wanted to prevent from the start. In addition, Vinnie has his own accountants doing the books, burying the profits from the operations with a whole bunch of “losses” and expenditures. There are drugs, and Debbie thinks that a few of the girls might be underage. There’s little that she can do, since she’s part owner of the club, she could be held legally liable, despite the fact that she has no say in the running of the club any more.

Debbie was now getting nothing from the club, as the profits are mostly negligible, and due to the shrinking profits, Debbie’s paycheck is next to nothing. Nobody is interested in her shares of the place—nobody would be stupid enough to own a minority share in a place controlled by Vinnie. Vinnie has offered her a ridiculously low price himself, but Debbie realized that without her tickets or her job, she can’t even afford this place here in Queens where she moved from Greenwich Village.

Debbie found herself in a terrible situation where she’s forced to strip for Vinnie’s club, and she’s sometimes even forced to sleep with customers just to earn living expenses! She’s now not just a stripper but also a hooker!

The police have raided the place once, and as “chief operating officer,” Debbie was fined for various violations, and a number of the girls working there were busted for prostitution. Vinnie has “loaned” money to Debbie to pay the fines for herself and some of the girls in return for an extension of her “Hostess” contract. She’s now in debt to Vinnie for over forty thousand dollars.

* * *

I was appalled by Debbie’s story, and felt sorry for her, despite what she did to her own sister. I could see why Debbie didn’t want to talk with Camille.

For some reason, Debbie’s story was hazy on the aspect of the tickets. I kept asking her questions about them, especially as I saw her drinking continuously and refilling her glass, hoping the alcohol would lower her inhibitions about telling me what I wanted to know.

Debbie did give me some important information, though. “You need to be careful who you use the tickets on,” Debbie warned. “Most people don’t know that they’ve been handed tickets, but not all of them! Some people will do whatever you tell them to do, but afterward will be very suspicious of you.”

My ears pricked up at that bit of information. Patrice Williams, one of the first people that I abused with the tickets, seemed quite leery of me after I told her about what I had done, although this wasn’t exactly what Debbie was telling me. “What do you mean by suspicious?” I asked.

“This didn’t happen often,” Debbie said, a faraway look in her eyes. “I remembered giving one to a teacher so I could get a B in her class. From that day forward, she always had it in for me, even though I still managed to get a B. I finally resolved the situation by not even bothering to show up for her class. I still got a B. Even a year or so later, before I left town, it was like she’d go out of her way to get me in trouble.”

Something about that revelation clicked in my mind. “What subject?” I asked.

“English.”

“Let me guess. Mrs. Taylor.”

“You gave her a ticket, too?” Debbie asked.

I shook my head. “No, not at all. I had mostly stopped using the tickets, and she suddenly started picking on me.”

“Detention?” Debbie asked.

“Yeah.”

Debbie shrugged. “My suggestion is to just give her a ticket, tell her to give you an A or a B, and stop showing up for class. The less she sees you, the better off you will be. Mrs. Taylor has friends that will try to make your life miserable just the same.”

“I’ve taken care of Mrs. Taylor, and without using the tickets.”

“How?”

I gave Debbie an abbreviated version of the confrontation between Mrs. Taylor, Mr. Yank, and myself. Debbie seemed in awe that I wouldn’t just use the tickets to fix the situation.

“I didn’t use the tickets because I didn’t see that I had to use them,” I explained. “I’m not sure if she’ll find some other way to hassle me, but I got the feeling that Mr. Yank already has a bad impression of her.”

“Yeah, well, that was back in high school. I’m living a real life now.”

I thought about Debbie’s “real life” and decided not to make a wise remark. Instead, I asked, “Can you tell me anything else about the tickets?” I hoped that Debbie would open up more.

Debbie took a big sip from her glass, emptying it. “Don’t make wishes that you’ll live to regret.”

“I’ve learned that one,” I said.

“No, you haven’t!” Debbie yelled. “You don’t know shit! Donna is…”

Debbie suddenly stopped, and stared at me, refusing to go any further.

“Who’s Donna?” I asked.

Debbie refused to answer.

Debbie was staring at her now empty glass, and it seemed as if she was once again considering a refill. I saw that expression before.

I decided to get off the particular subject. “How did you get rid of the tickets?” I asked Debbie once again.

“I… I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Both. I truly cannot, and therefore I will not.”

I sighed. I made this trip to find out how to get rid of Tim’s tickets. Debbie gave me some information which I could use, but my main objective seemed to have failed. “Debbie, Camille seems to think that I now own your tickets. However, somebody else seems to have found a similar roll.”

“Two rolls?” Debbie asked, genuinely surprised.

Shit. I hoped that I would find out where Tim Hawking’s tickets may have come from.

“You never knew anybody else to have possession of the tickets?” I asked.

“Not while I had them.”

“Well, this other guy is hurting people with them.”

“Like I did,” Debbie said sourly, half to herself.

“Nobody is perfect, Debbie. I also made mistakes. One needs to learn from them and move on.”

Debbie looked at me with surprise. “I always liked you, Jim. I never intended you to be a victim of the tickets. I didn’t intend for Camille to be, either. I was young when I found them—that’s my only excuse. I got rid of them because I wanted to make sure that Vinnie couldn’t use them, either by stealing them or forcing me to use them in despicable ways.”

“When did you first come upon the tickets?”

Debbie rolled her eyes and sighed. “A man gave me one when I was nine.”

“What did he have you do?” I asked.

“What do you think a middle aged man would ask of a nine year old?” Debbie asked. “He got my cunt and my ass that day. He stuck it in my mouth and I puked.”

This was more information than I really needed.

“He only did that to me once. I guess he was only interested in child virgins. The guy didn’t live far from where I lived. He was hit by a car or something when I was fourteen. I found the tickets soon after he died.”

That’s how Debbie figured that Camille would have gotten them next.

“Can I hand you a ticket to see if they work on you still?”

Debbie looked me straight in the eye. “Not if you want to retain your tiny prick.”

I noticed that females that knew about the tickets harbored castration ideas when somebody suggested them receiving a ticket.

I didn’t press my luck. “Thank you for talking with me, Debbie. You’ve given me some information. May I tell Cammy your story?”

Debbie shrugged. “Yeah. Tell her that her big prick of a sister is now a stripper and a whore. She’ll love that.” Debbie’s sarcasm hung heavily in the air.

Maybe that wouldn’t be a good idea.

I pulled on my jacket, and as I left I turned and said, “It was nice talking with you, even if I didn’t find the information I needed to know.”

Debbie shook my hand.

After the handshake, our hands separated and one of my tickets dropped down. I quickly bent down and picked it up.

“I needed to know if it would work on you,” I said.

Debbie looked as if she was about to kick me in the family jewels. I quickly left the apartment, hearing Debbie cursing me as I left.

It was a lonely flight home. I decided that flying without Kristen, even in first class, just plain sucked.

* * *

I arrived at the airport at six in the evening. Camille and Kristen were there to greet me.

The first thing I noticed was that a tension I once saw between Kristen and Camille was no longer present. In its place was a closeness. I smiled.

“Debbie called my mom,” was the first thing that Camille said when she saw me.

“Oh?” I said.

“She left a message for you. She says, ‘Thanks.’”

I smiled. I think the fact that the ticket I palmed when I shook Debbie’s hand didn’t work on her might have cut through her fear of them.

Kristen didn’t bother to speak, she simply pulled me into a hug and a deep kiss that lasted minutes. Boy, I found myself really missing Kristen—even if it were just most of a day—and I tried to put as much into a kiss as Kristen did.

“Can I have some of that?” Camille asked with a smile on her face.

“Of course, Cammy,” Kristen said, and pushed me toward Camille.

Camille’s kiss wasn’t as romantic as the one that I shared with Kristen, but it was quite friendly.

“What did you say to Debbie?” Camille asked. “She really sounded different.”

“I asked her the story about the tickets,” I said. “I didn’t get much information, but she told me what happened after she moved to New York.”

“What was the ‘thanks’ about?”

“Despite the fact that she told me she didn’t want me to try to hand her a ticket, I tricked her and it didn’t work on her. I expected that.”

“Oh,” Camille said, a bit surprised.

“The ‘thanks’ was that she no longer fears the tickets. Maybe she will find that she doesn’t need to drink to forget them, but her life is a hell of a lot less than a dream come true for her. I’ll tell you her story some other time.”

Camille nodded.

“I have a question, Cammy. Do you know anybody named Donna?”

“There are a few people with that name at school,” Camille answered.

“Debbie mentioned her name.”

“Oh, Donna!” Camille said. “That used to be her best friend.”

“Used to be?”

“They got into a fight, and I think Debbie never made up with her. Donna died quite suddenly afterward, and Debbie was a bit of a wreck for about a month.”

I felt a coldness hit the pit of my stomach. “Did this happen before or after Debbie had her tickets?”

“A bit after,” Camille said, nervously looking at Kristen. Camille was still under some sort of restraint against talking about the tickets in front of anybody but me. A moment later, Camille shook her head. “Debbie hid the… them… after Donna died.”

Camille seemed to realize what I was asking and her mouth hung open. “No! Debbie wouldn’t have… I mean, this was before she got mean!”

Kristen’s eyes were wide as she heard this interesting bit of news. I could also see in Camille’s eyes that she made the same realization that I did: Debbie did something to Donna with the tickets, and that’s when she got scared and stopped using them, if only for a few weeks.

The three of us were silent for about five minutes. I just learned that the tickets could have even more terrible repercussions than the feelings of guilt that I had over using them.

“It’s getting late,” Kristen finally remarked.

“Let’s stop somewhere for a quick bite and head home. Even though I’ve been sitting most of the day, I’m still beat.”

“I’m not that hungry,” Camille said.

Neither Kristen nor I answered Camille. I now wondered how I would ever tell her the story about her sister, and how she was not just a stripper and a whore, but quite possibly a murderer. No wonder why Debbie continued to live in the hell hole she dug for herself. I thought I had feelings of guilt.

We left the airport and drove home, mostly in silence.

We were about halfway home when Camille, of all people, broke the silence. “Any ideas about your friend Tim?”

“He’s not my friend,” I pointed out.

“You don’t think he’s mine, do you?” Camille shot back.

I shrugged. “You blew him, not me.”

I immediately regretted my remark. I saw Camille redden and a look of anger shot across her face. After a few moments, however, she nodded. “Yeah, I guess. The next time, he’ll feel what teeth really feel like.” Camille made snapping sounds as the top and lower half of her mouth connected repeatedly.

Instinctively, I shuddered at the idea. I figured that resorting to physical violence would not be a good idea, but Camille did have an effective solution.

“I’m sorry, Cammy,” I said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Camille nodded but didn’t answer me.

“To answer your question, I haven’t come up with any ideas regarding Tim. In that respect, my trip was a waste of time.”

Camille nodded again.

We continued in silence, and about five minutes out of town, Camille said, “I’m sorry I got angry, Jim. I didn’t mean to imply that Tim was your friend.”

“Friends?” I asked, hopefully.

“Friends,” Camille said.

We got back to the apartment late.

Kristen and I went to the master bedroom, and Camille took her own.

“Jim?” Kristen said softly once we were in bed together.

“Yes?”

“Cammy and I… you know…”

I nodded at Kristen softly said, “Yes, I know.”

“I never felt it like that. I mean, it’s not the same as you and me. It’s just… different.”

“I figured that.”

“Cammy said you sent her into the shower the other day.”

I continued to nod, rather than answer her directly.

“She said that she and Lynette both had a crush on me for a long time.”

Camille told me about Lynette, the captain of the cheerleading squad. I shrugged, and said, “When I told her to go into the shower, I didn’t consider how you might react.” This had been bugging me.

“I was shocked, but at the same time…”

“Curious?” I asked.

“Yeah. We didn’t do much, other than touch. We still haven’t. You told her that if she soaped my breasts then I’d be hers!”

“Isn’t that true?” I asked.

Kristen gave me a wry smile. “We still haven’t done anything. I’m still a bit scared.”

I hadn’t known that.

“I’m confused,” Kristen admitted.

“I understand.”

There was a few moments of silence. I reached over and pulled Kristen into a hug.

“Kris?”

“Yes?”

“Cammy is feeling really bad about her sister. She doesn’t know the entire story, and it isn’t pretty. I’m sorry that I mentioned her sister’s best friend, but Debbie blurted out that name and then clammed up.”

“Do you think Debbie killed her best friend?” Kristen asked.

I looked at Kristen, a bit surprised that she had put all this together. “I think she may have done something to cause her friend’s death.”

“Those tickets are scary.”

I shook my head. “You’re telling me.”

In the middle of the night, Kristen shook me to wake me up. “Jim, you know that it doesn’t have to be an either/or situation.”

“Huh?” I asked, confused.

“I’m talking about Cammy and me,” Kristen said, hoping that I would be awakened enough to understand her. “It doesn’t have to be an either/or situation.”

“Of course,” I said, my voice full of sleep.

I kissed my Goddess, and felt tears on her face.

I was tired enough that I fell back asleep very soon afterward.

* * *

When Camille woke up the next morning, she seemed bright and cheerful. Both Kristen and I looked at her for any signs that she was thinking about her sister, but that didn’t appear to be the case.

Once I got to school, I realized that I blew off jazz band rehearsal and a part of me understood that I was going to have to have a heart to heart with Mr. Proilet.

I found the music teacher before band class. He raised his eyebrows as he saw me.

“Hello, Jim.”

“I’m sorry about rehearsal yesterday.”

“Not a problem. I was surprised to see Kristen there. I thought that the two of you…”

“I needed to visit somebody yesterday,” I said, truthfully.

Mr. Proilet nodded.

The rest of the class was starting to file in.

There were a number of assignments for my “missed” day of class, and I did them during lunch.

Camille and Kristen purchased a few more (smaller!) dildoes when they made the trip out to Chicago to pick me up, and Camille and Lynette privately offered them to the cheerleaders so they wouldn’t have to be seen as tramps to the other students. Camille and I also “protected” the cheerleaders from Tim. I wished that they wouldn’t accept tickets from Tim, and to the ones that had already been affected by Tim, I made an additional wish that they wouldn’t think too much about the power he had over them.

Despite my attempts to keep the cheerleaders from worrying, according to Camille about half of the girls were still facing Saturday with trepidation.

I still hadn’t come up with a workable solution to dealing with Tim Hawking the next day.

The rest of the school day progressed slowly. During English, when we were supposed to write some essay, I looked up at my teacher and noticed that Mrs. Taylor was glaring at me. I quickly shifted my attention back to my essay and thought about Debbie’s words about that teacher. I also thought about how Will said that he could see my “strange aura” and how he associated it with magic. If Will was sensitive to my tickets, then other people might be sensitive, even if they didn’t know why they felt a particular way.

I decided that the best way to handle Mrs. Taylor was to give her as few reasons as possible to be angry with me.

* * *

Back at the apartment, Kristen excused herself to run a few errands. She didn’t invite Camille or me, which was a bit unusual, but it gave Camille and me some private time together.

There were some things about the tickets that Camille just couldn’t discuss with Kristen around, so the opportunity was welcome.

“What do you think about tomorrow?” Camille asked.

“At least the cheerleaders are protected,” I said.

“I wonder if he phrased his wish the same way to everybody,” Camille mused.

“What do you mean?”

“He said, quote, ‘Be ready for me on Saturday,’ unquote.”

“I think he meant it sexually,” I said.

“If he said it the same way to everybody, and they’re protected…”

The two of us laughed. I imagined a picture of the entire cheerleading squad, complete with boyfriends, all brandishing baseball bats with menacing looks at Tim.

“Violence isn’t the answer,” I said, slightly amused at the mental image. I also remembered Debbie and shuddered slightly.

“What he’s doing is rape,” Camille said. “The penalty for rape is severe.”

“We’re not going to be judge and jury, Cammy.”

Camille nodded.

I considered tomorrow’s party again. How would we be able to deal with Tim?

“That creep tried to give Kris a ticket again,” Camille said.

“Oh?” I asked. Kristen hadn’t told me that.

“She didn’t take it,” Camille assured me.

“He’s going to get obsessive about her,” I observed. “Has he approached any of the other cheerleaders?”

“I know he tried to give one to Lynette and Jackie, and he was unsuccessful with both,” Camille answered.

I sighed. How would I react when a bunch of tickets work consistently until, all of a sudden, people start refusing them? I’d try to find out what changed.

How do you get rid of the tickets, as Debbie seemed to have done?

“Can you tell me how to get rid of the tickets?” I asked Camille once again.

Camille didn’t answer, but shook her head.

I sighed.

“Can you tell me about my sister?” Camille asked.

I had agonized the previous night about telling Camille about her sister, but I figured that she deserved to know. I told her most of what Debbie told me, including her comment that she referred to herself as a big prick, a stripper, and a whore.

Camille had tears in her eyes. At one time, she hated her sister for what she did to her. However, she realized that Debbie was in a terrible situation. Her sister was being forced to turn tricks for Vinnie! Camille didn’t confide in me, however, so I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on in her mind. I think my suspicions about Debbie’s best friend Donna also spooked Camille.

Kristen arrived, saw Camille crying, and looked a question at me. I mouthed the word, “Debbie” and Kristen nodded.

Without saying anything, Kristen took Camille’s hand, and led her to the bedroom.

* * *

Two hours later, I was down in the playroom, practicing bank shots. I was getting a little better, but without somebody to actively coach me, the progress was slow.

I tried not to think about what might be happening upstairs in my own bedroom, but I wasn’t too worried. Camille was an emotional wreck, and she needed comforting.

The two girls came downstairs a couple of hours later. I was still shooting bank shots.

“You’re getting good,” Kristen said.

I nodded. “Cammy gave me a lesson the other night.”

“She taught me a lesson, too,” Kristen said, smiling slightly.

“Want to play?” I asked.

“Cutthroat?” Kristen asked.

“Eight ball,” I corrected. “My rules and my stakes,” I answered.

“What rules?” Camille asked.

“Kristen against Camille. Camille can never break. Loser pays a forfeit that I decide after each game.”

“Forfeit?” the girls asked together.

“You’ll need to trust me on those,” I said. “Other rules as I come up with them. I think I can make it interesting.”

* * *

Despite having the break where she sunk a solid, Kristen missed an easy shot, and Camille ran the table.

As her forfeit, I told Kristen to get nude.

Kristen was better at the next game, and got seven balls in a row, but missed the eight ball. Once again, Camille ran the table, starting with the fifteen and working down the numbers until she sunk the eight ball.

“Second forfeit, Kristen,” I said. “Undress Camille.”

“Hey!” Camille protested.

“My rules,” I grinned.

After Camille won the third game, I had a good idea for Kristen’s forfeit. “All right, Kris. As your forfeit, you must keep your hands on Camille’s breasts whenever she’s shooting.”

The fourth game changed Kristen’s luck. She ran the solids, and sunk the eight ball.

“Camille, you must give Kris the sexiest kiss you can muster.”

Their kiss lasted almost five minutes. The two girls were rubbing their breasts together, and their fingers were grabbing each other’s asses. By the time they broke the kiss, they were both restless.

Kristen missed an easy shot on the ten ball, and Camille started on the solids. With Kristen’s hands on her breasts, Kristen finally managed to get Camille to break her concentration on the three ball.

Kristen ran the rest of her balls, and Camille lost once again.

“Bed time!” I announced.

The girls looked confused, but I simply went upstairs. They picked up their discarded clothes and followed me up.

I led the two girls into the master bedroom, and put the two girls onto the bed, still nude. Kristen was in the middle between Camille and me.

“Kissing only, tonight,” I said, and I kissed my Goddess. It was an erection special, and I groaned as I realized that Kristen wouldn’t be allowed to relieve the pressure.

After a great kiss, Kristen turned over and kissed Camille. I could barely see them, but I could hear the two girls moan.

My erection got harder, but I willed myself to sleep.

Chapter 18—Rescue

Hold me closer tiny dancer.

Count the headlights on the highway.

Lay me down in sheets of linen,

You had a busy day today!

Elton John

Tiny Dancer

I woke up feeling my dick being suckled in a warm mouth. There were no hands touching it, so I realized that it was one of Kristen’s lovely sucks.

Before I could open my eyes, however, a pair of lips met mine. My eyes closed and I reveled in the mind blowing sensation of kissing a woman while another one sucked me.

It didn’t take long for my dick to erupt.

I grunted in release, and Kristen continued sucking me until I was completely spent.

The lips I was kissing moved away, and I opened my eyes to see Kristen and Camille sharing a wet kiss between each other. I realized that Kristen was also sharing my essence between them.

While Kristen made breakfast, I asked Camille if she knew any of the larger athletes at the school.

“Of course,” Camille answered sweetly. “I know all of them.”

“Who would be willing to do you a favor?”

“All of them.” Camille said it as if it were a given.

“Who do you know that can put the fear of God into Tim Hawking and make him reconsider going after the cheerleaders?”

Camille thought for a moment. “TB… um… Tiny.”

Now that was a great idea. Tiny Jonas was a line backer and star of the wrestling team. He was so large that people described his muscles as having muscles. He was big, black, and nobody, and I mean nobody, fucked with him.

“Tiny will do anything you ask?” I asked.

“Of course,” Camille said. “I introduced him to June.”

June was a black cheerleader, and was known to call Tiny “her snugly Teddy Bear.”

I laughed. Tiny would be perfect. “Do you think he’s coming?”

“June doesn’t do parties,” Camille said.

“Oh,” I said, my spirits lowering.

“Let me see if I can have Tiny come over anyway. The entire squad loves him.”

“Are you sure June won’t be jealous?” I asked.

Camille laughed. “June will tear the eyes out of any girl who even looks at Tiny funny. They all know that his dance card is full.”

I smiled. “Can you have him arrive at Jackie’s about an hour early?”

Camille moved over to the phone. She didn’t know Tiny’s number, but she knew June’s.

“This is Camille Lombardi, from the cheerleading squad. I’d like to speak to June, please.”

There was a pause. “Hi, June. Cammy… Yeah… Doing fine, actually… That’s nice… Listen, June, the reason I’m calling is that I wanted to know if we could borrow TB today… Yeah, the party… There’s been some strange… yeah… Anyway, a friend of mine thought that having TB around… Yeah! Think he would do it?” Camille grinned and gave me an OK sign. “Thanks a million, June… Of course… You’re welcome, too… Bye!” Camille hung up the phone.

“What is TB?” I asked.

“It’s short for ‘Teddy Bear,’” Camille explained. “Only June calls him by that name, so Lynette and I use the initials instead. Anyway, June’s going to call Tiny, but she tells me he’s free until five and they have a date at six.”

“That only gives us a couple of hours,” I said. “That should be enough.”

* * *

Camille took me to her cousin’s house at noon. A few minutes later, June arrived with Tiny. I watched the two of them lock lips for a couple of minutes before Tiny got out of June’s car. June waved to all of us and left.

“Hey, Tiny!” Camille said.

“Yeah, Camille. What’s up? June said something about some trouble?”

“I want you to meet two of my friends. This is…”

“Kristen Swift,” Tiny finished. “Archy Jonas,” Tiny introduced himself, extending Kristen a large paw.

“Pleased to meet you,” Kristen said, taking Tiny’s hand.

“And you’re the guy they call ‘Oogie,’” Tiny said, turning to me. “Jim something?”

“Jim Crittenhouse,” I said, offering my hand to Tiny.

“You are a mean mother on the horn,” Tiny said, smiling.

“I’ve heard you called the same on the wrestling mat,” I said with a laugh.

Tiny had a deep laugh that shook his entire body.

“Now, who is this problem that you want me to take care of?” Tiny asked, getting right to the point.

Since only the four of us were around, I decided to cut right to the chase. “His name is Tim Hawking.”

“The tenth grade nerd? He can’t hurt a fly.”

“He’s raped a couple of cheerleaders already,” I corrected Tiny.

Tiny’s eyes widened. “I’ll take care of that…”

“Wait, Tiny,” I called, seeing murder in Tiny’s eyes. Tiny was sort of a mascot to the cheerleaders. “Here, have a ticket.”

“You have one wish,” Tiny intoned.

It was weird hearing that from the two hundred fifty pound behemoth.

“Answer the next set of questions truthfully until I say ‘Truth Serum Off.’ You will not remember me asking them.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Has anybody ever handed you any one of these tickets before?”

“No.”

I felt a surge of relief. I handed Tiny another ticket.

“You have one wish.”

“You will not accept another ticket like this from anyone ever again.”

“I cannot grant that wish.”

Huh? It worked before.

“Why not?” I asked.

Luckily, the “truth serum” wish was still in effect.

“You cannot wish that I cannot accept a ticket from you.”

That was weird. “All right, then. You will not accept another ticket like this from anybody other than me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“Truth serum off.”

Tiny looked a bit disoriented. “Listen, Tiny. We just want to keep Tim Hawking from disturbing the party.”

“If he’s raped some cheerleaders, they should call the police.”

“It’s not black and white like that, Tiny. The girls just found themselves… trapped by him. It’s difficult and the girls find it difficult…”

“My mama’s a rape counselor,” Tiny said.

“Shit,” Camille said, suddenly remembering that little fact.

“Huh?” Tiny asked, totally confused.

I handed Tiny another ticket.

“You have one wish.”

“Forget about rape. Tim Hawking is just a nuisance, and we’d like you to help us keep him from the party.”

“Your wish is my command.”

One again, Tiny looked disoriented.

“Tiny?” I asked.

“Yeah?” Tiny said, shaking his head.

“Your mother is a rape counselor, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I have a friend, Patty Nadal…”

“The red head?” Tiny asked.

“Yeah. She had a problem a couple of years ago.”

“Who’s the dead mother that did it?”

Oh, shit. Tiny was back in “knight in shining armor” mode. I could see why the cheerleaders loved him.

“It was years ago, Tiny. The guy graduated. She’s only now getting her life back together. Do you think your mom…”

“She works at the precinct,” Tiny said, frowning a bit. “She’ll be happy to talk with your friend. But you should never allow a rapist to walk away. There will always be another victim, sure as shit.”

I nodded. I found myself actually warming to this big lug. It was strange that I never considered him as possible friend material.

“Mind if I ask a question?” Tiny asked.

“I don’t mind. What’s up?”

“You’re a tenth grader,” Tiny said. “You’re dating Ms. Swift.”

That wasn’t a question. “Would you believe that I love this Goddess?”

Tiny looked at Kristen and then back at me. After a few moments, he said, “Yeah. I really believe that. I’m sorry to bring it up. It just seemed strange to me.”

“It was strange to me, Tiny. Can you believe that I once disliked her? I thought she was responsible for me losing a friend. In fact, I misjudged her, but we discovered that we really love one another.”

Tiny smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “I once thought that June was stuck up. Then Cammy here introduced us. She wasn’t what I thought at all. June’s going to be a nurse.”

Tiny’s story was similar to mine, without the tickets, of course. We actually managed to start to develop a friendship that day.

“This guy, Tim Hawking, has a similar dislike for the cheerleaders,” I said.

Tiny nodded. “I’ll help him adjust his attitude.”

“You’re not going to hurt him, are you?” Camille asked.

Tiny turned to Camille. “I’d never hurt anybody, Cammy.”

I thought about the hundreds of opponents in football and wrestling that would take issue with Tiny’s statement, but wisely didn’t say anything. There was a big difference between a monitored athletic event and a big kid bullying a smaller and younger one.

Camille invited everybody in. Camille’s aunt looked a little nervous at Tiny, but was immediately enamored of Tiny when he introduced himself quite formally.

After Jackie’s mom went in to fix the refreshments, Camille said, “See, Tiny. A little manners go a long way.”

“Yeah, Cammy. I’m glad I’ll be able to at least pay you back a little bit for all the help you’ve been over the years.”

Camille nodded. “Thanks, TB.”

Jackie was assembling some albums for her record changer. Camille went to the kitchen to help her aunt fix up some snacks.

I felt in my pockets and realized that I had used up all the tickets that I had on my person on Tiny. I used more than I had thought I would need to handle him, and I hoped that I wouldn’t be caught short when Tim showed up. I did have others nearby in a safe place, though.

“Where did you learn to play the horn, Oogie?” Tiny asked.

“Fifth grade. I knew piano before that. I play other instruments as well.”

We made small talk for a few minutes before the doorbell rang. Tiny and I walked to the door to answer it.

It was Lynette Robbins, the head cheerleader. She looked a bit nervous. “Is that asshole here?”

I was about to answer when Tiny said, “Not yet, and he won’t be here if I have something to say about it.”

Lynette looked relieved. We invited her in, and we saw another car pull up with Maria Wilson.

A few minutes later, I saw Tiny stiffen. I looked outside, and saw Tim Hawking striding purposely up the sidewalk.

“I’ll handle this…” Tiny said, springing into action.

Tim looked stunned as he saw the huge line backer approach him. He froze, and Tiny took advantage of the situation.

“Excuse me, asshole. This event is for cheerleaders and their dates and guests. I’ve been told you’re persona non grata. That’s French and means that you are not wanted here.”

Tim hurriedly reached into his jacket pocket, but Tiny thought that he might be going for a weapon. Like lightning, Tiny pulled Tim’s hand out of his parka. As this happened, a whole roll of tickets flew out of his pocket. Tim looked at his precious tickets, and in a panic, started to dive for it. It wasn’t a brilliant move, since Tiny still had a firm grip on his right hand, which was now behind Tim’s back.

When I saw the tickets, I made a dash for them. Tiny didn’t expect me to move behind him, and he lowered his guard. Nevertheless, I still managed to get to the roll of tickets before Tim did.

I saw Tim start to fall down toward me, his right arm in pain, and I briefly wished that these tickets had never been around.

Before I knew it, the roll of tickets, which I had just managed to grab, disappeared. I just felt them just vanish, no longer there.

Was it that simple? Just wish them to disappear and they will? There was one way to test my theory out, but then I’d be damning Merry or somebody else with their possession. If Camille and Debbie were any indication, then I’d not be able to help my sister and who knows how she’d be tempted with them? Then another, darker thought came to me.

“Get off Oogie,” Tiny said, pulling Tim up by his left hand.

I felt Tim’s weight suddenly leave mine, and I pulled myself up. Tim’s attention was riveted to where I fell on the tickets, which were no longer there.

Tim saw the tickets vanish into thin air. “He stole them!” Tim cried.

“Stole what?” Tiny demanded.

Tim found that he couldn’t say what I stole. “Um… my things. They disappeared into thin air!”

“If it was a weapon, then I’d feel safer with it being disappeared forever, you little twerp.”

“No… I mean it…”

“I’ve already told you. You’re French for ‘get out of here.’”

Tiny had an interesting way with words.

Tim Hawking got the message and left slowly, his eyes constantly looking on the ground where he last saw his precious roll of tickets.

Disaster had been averted. I’m not sure how many people Tim Hawking destroyed, but his ability to magically do so was now significantly reduced.

A few minutes after Tim left, I excused myself from the party to take a quick jog to Kristen’s Camaro. The doors were unlocked, and I opened the door and looked underneath the passenger seat. I was afraid that I would find nothing there, and my heart hung quite heavy.

I found the purple roll of tickets underneath the seat, right where I had stashed them before leaving for the party. I had found out soon after I moved in with Kristen that she was never able to pick up my ticket roll. I had never discussed this oddity with Camille, since she claimed that she never had them, but I figured that storing them in Kristen’s Camaro would allow me quick access to them if I needed them, and was a relatively safe place when I didn’t have my attaché case with me.

For a few minutes after I saw Tim’s tickets disappear, I had the awful feeling that my wish to make his tickets disappear might have the side effect of making mine go away as well. As I have mentioned, I was not exactly sure how they worked, and in the moment that I had seen his tickets vanish, I was even willing to give mine up in order to save other potential victims from Tim. The fact that my tickets were still safe where I left them made me feel better.

I came back inside Jackie’s house and smiled at Kristen.

* * *

“I saw what happened outside,” Kristen said when we had a moment alone together.

“What?”

“Tim lost his tickets. You touched them and they disappeared. How come it doesn’t happen when you hand me the roll?”

I shrugged. “I don’t really know.”

“I’m glad he’s rid of them. It’s bad enough that you have them. I mean… I mean that in a nice way, Jim…”

I nodded. “I know, but if I make mine disappear, somebody else will find them. Kristen, I keep hoping that there is a way to fix what I have done to you!”

Camille walked over to the two of us. “Are you talking about what I think you are talking about?”

I nodded, sadly.

“You did a good thing outside. I hope the next person is more like you and less like that asshole.”

We ended up in a three way hug.

It was an enjoyable party. Even Tiny had fun.

* * *

Tiny had to leave early. Kristen, Camille, and I went outside with him when June pulled up.

“Hey, June!” Camille said, cheerily.

“Was my Teddy Bear a good bodyguard?” June asked.

“He was perfect,” I assured June.

“The creep that they thought would crash the party actually showed up. I managed to show him the error of his ways.”

“I hope this doesn’t become a habit,” June said.

“It won’t,” I said with some assurance.

June and Tiny looked at me strangely.

Before Tiny could get into June’s car, both Kristen and Camille gave Tiny a kiss on his cheek.

I offered my hand to June, and after a moment, she shook it.

As Tiny got into the passenger side, June said, “Did you know that Tiny plays the trumpet?”

“Really?” I asked. I never saw Tiny play an instrument before.

“His Uncle Jake was a jazz musician in Chicago.”

I hadn’t known this. “You play?” I asked Tiny.

“A bit,” Tiny admitted.

That was interesting. And then, suddenly, I made a shocking realization. “Jake Jonas? The legendary blues musician?”

“Yeah,” Tiny said, smiling slightly. “You’ve heard of him?”

“My… um… dad… once took me to see him in Chicago.”

I was always uncomfortable about talking about my real father. Also, despite the fact that I truly enjoyed watching the blues musicians play, my father got drunk and rowdy and we were asked to leave the pub where we listened to him play. He also beat me up when we were outside, and then begged forgiveness. I really hate my father.

“He died of a heart attack two years ago,” Tiny said, a bit sadly.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I felt a bit awkward. Then, I realized that if Jake Jonas taught Tiny to play the trumpet, Tiny might have some talent. “Would you be interested in the jazz band? We have a Spring Concert coming up…”

Tiny looked at June, who smiled at Tiny. “You practice on Thursdays, right?” Tiny asked.

“Yeah…”

Tiny said, “I’m free on Thursdays. I’m usually hanging around doing homework in the library while June practices with the cheerleaders. I’ll show up for your next rehearsal and you can give me an audition.”

* * *

The next Thursday, the entire music room became quiet when Tiny Jonas entered the room with an instrument case.

There were a few fingers pointing, and I motioned for Tiny to sit at the seat next to Toby.

Toby saw Tiny open his case and pull out an old trumpet. Tiny oiled the valves and ran his fingers over them. His eyes opened wide as he realized that Tiny’s trumpet looked nearly identical to the one that I presented to Toby, although it wasn’t as polished as Toby’s was. (For that matter, when I had that trumpet, it was never as polished as it was after I gave it to Toby. He really seemed to cherish that gift.)

After hearing Tiny practice with a chromatic scale that ran two octaves in an equal number of seconds, I realized that Tiny’s playing “a bit” was an understatement.

I told Tiny earlier that if he could just play the arrangements, that would be enough of an audition for me, since none of the other musicians had actually auditioned for the jazz band.

I noticed Tiny was hesitant during the first run through of a song, but on his next attempt he played his part nearly perfect.

During this particular rehearsal, I handed out some new music that I had written myself. I told Tiny to take the first eight bar solo to see how he’d do.

When Tiny took his solo, he floored me with the soulful notes he could get from the simple chord progression that I set up.

At the end of the rehearsal, Tiny graduated from being a curiosity, as it was very clear to everybody that he was a much better player than Toby. People called me a virtuoso, and I could actually say that his playing was as good as mine. I was lucky to have a bunch of other instruments in my repertoire, just in case I was underestimating his talent!

Tiny just smiled at me as he left. I saw Toby running up to catch up with him.

* * *

The next week during jazz band rehearsal, when the first solo was to occur, I was surprised to see both Toby and Tiny get up. Instead of a solo, they played a well-orchestrated duet.

I broke up the rehearsal at that. “What the fuck was that?”

Tiny grinned. “I think, in Italian, they call that a ‘duet.’”

“Did you guys rehearse that? That was perfect!”

Toby nodded. “You told me to practice. You are usually busy on weekends, and I asked Archy last week if I could practice with him. We played at his house.”

I shook my head. “You owe me a dozen sets of ear plugs!”

The entire band, except Tiny, laughed at that. One of the saxophonists whispered something to Tiny and Tiny burst out with his loud, booming, laughter. “A dozen! Man, Oogie, you’re cruel!”

From the way that Tiny said it, I knew that he said that with admiration.

Mr. Proilet was sitting near the back of the room. He moved up to me and whispered something to me. I nodded sagely.

I started the song up again, and was prepared for that duet, which they repeated with a slight variation. I saw Mr. Proilet’s eyes widen a bit at this.

I was watching for the duet, and I noticed that the variation was mostly due to modifications done by Tiny rather than Toby.

I continued to direct the song, and it seemed that everybody was keyed up. The solos were just a little more polished, apparently everybody was trying to live up to the high standards that Tiny and Toby, who I were now thinking of as “the two T’s.”

* * *

Kristen and I had plans for the next weekend, which were subsequently scrapped when June drove up to Kristen’s gate with Tiny.

“Hey, June,” I said over the intercom. “What’s up?”

“I’m here to ask a favor.”

I looked at Kristen, who already had our suitcases packed. She nodded and took the suitcases back to the bedroom. I told June to drive up to our apartment.

“What’s up, guys?” I repeated when we met them at the parking lot.

“June and I have been talking,” Tiny answered. “I have been cheating, and I’m really feeling bad about it.”

“Cheating?” I asked.

“I gave Toby his part of the duet.”

“I knew that,” I said, smiling. “The second time, I noticed that most of the variation was you.”

“I’m good at solos, and I thought that Toby needed a bit of confidence. He asked if we could practice together last weekend.”

“Yeah. Mr. Proilet talked with me on Thursday. We’re going to ask you to be the assistant director, so you can take over when I can’t be at rehearsals.”

“I can’t do that, Jim.”

“Why not?”

Tiny didn’t answer. I was about to prod him when June spoke up. “Tiny has a problem, Jim. He can’t read music.”

Tiny can’t read music? He played each of the pieces nearly flawlessly the first day. I was stunned, but then I realized how his first run-through of each piece wasn’t as good as his subsequent performances.

“Do you mean to tell me that in two rehearsals, you’ve managed to perfectly memorize six or seven difficult pieces mainly by watching Toby play?”

Tiny looked back at me sheepishly. “My uncle taught me to play by ear.”

“Oh,” I said, softly.

“Let’s go inside,” Kristen said. “Oogie has a music studio downstairs.”

Kristen brought June upstairs to the apartment while I led Tiny to the room that Kristen was starting to make soundproof. I had my electric piano and a couple of trumpets in that room, as well as a lot of works in progress and some empty music sheets.

I was lucky in that Tiny knew the notes, he just didn’t recognize the notes on a staff. I showed him the basics of reading music.

It took a couple of hours, but Tiny was determined to learn how to read music, and I was patient. I knew that Kristen and I had plans, but I was not a person who would deny somebody of Tiny’s obvious talent a request for help, even if he hadn’t been so helpful with the handling of Tim Hawking.

During one of our breaks, we took a walk outside the studio and I heard the distinctive sound of pool balls broken.

I smiled at Tiny, and brought him next door to the playroom. Tiny was a bit surprised to see how it was decked out (just a stereo, television, and the pool table), and we watched the two girls playing.

Unlike Camille, June was closer to Kristen’s skill level. The two girls would sink two or three shots in a row.

“Do you play, Tiny?” I asked.

“Once or twice,” Tiny answered.

After the girls finished their game, Tiny and I joined in with our respective girlfriends to play teams.

It was close, but Kristen and I won, Kristen sinking the eight ball in a beautiful shot.

“Pay up,” Kristen said.

“Huh?” Tiny asked, confused.

“Winners get a kiss from the losers!” Kristen moved over to Tiny. He looked embarrassed and looked at me. I shrugged.

June watched Tiny kiss Kristen on the cheek, and took her cue and moved toward me.

Not wanting an angry Tiny, I did the same, and kissed June on her cheek. Her dark complexion reddened slightly.

“We need to be going,” June said, softly.

Tiny nodded. “June’s mother is very strict.”

We escorted the pair out of the playroom to June’s car.

“It was nice to see your apartment,” June said to Kristen.

“Your whole place is nice,” agreed Tiny.

“Thank you,” Kristen said.

We watched June and Tiny pull out of the parking lot.

“You think we embarrassed them with that kiss?” Kristen asked.

“A little,” I said.

“They make a very nice couple. June really opened up in the living room.”

“Really? What did she say?” I asked.

“Just girl talk,” Kristen said, mysteriously.

I smiled. It was nearly four in the afternoon. “How about a quick trip to Madison?” I asked.

Kristen’s nose crinkled as she ran upstairs and came back down with both suitcases. “You bet, Oogie!”

Next Monday, before music class, I explained to Mr. Proilet about Tiny’s difficulty. The next day, he gave me some elementary music reading texts that weren’t aimed at musical novices, and I forwarded them to Tiny, who showed quite a lot of appreciation for them.

He occasionally found time with Mr. Proilet and a Saturday with me, and continued learning how to read music in his spare time.

* * *

Valentine’s Day was a weekend this year, and Kristen decided she wanted to visit her brother again. She convinced Camille to come as well.

At Logan Airport in Boston, we saw Will stand there and stare at us as we exited the jet way. He didn’t move, but continued to stare. It was easy to follow his gaze; he was entirely focused on Camille.

“Um, Will, you remember Camille… Cammy.”

Will didn’t respond, but continued to stare.

“Earth to Will,” Kristen said with humor.

Suddenly, Will realized he was staring. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

I turned to Camille, who was also staring at Will. “Cammy?”

“Yes?” Camille said.

“You remember Kristen’s brother, Will.”

Camille offered her hand, and Will kissed it.

Kristen and I looked at each other and shrugged.

Will was between partners; he broke up with Robert amicably a few weeks before.

We ate once again at Legal Sea Food, and during the meal, it was quite clear that Will and Camille were in another dimension, simply staring at each other, and neither one paid any particular attention to Kristen and me.

We originally expected Camille to share our bed, as she did a few times a week ever since that first night. However, she accepted Will’s invitation to his room, which didn’t surprise us too much, as the two of them were staring at each other nearly non-stop since the two laid eyes on one another.

Kristen and I gave Camille and Will some time alone on Saturday, and we had reservations at another nice restaurant for Valentine’s Day. Will and Camille were still doing the staring thing. We tried drawing them into conversation, but every attempt received a single syllable response at most, and only if they heard us, which wasn’t often.

When we left Logan Airport, Camille and Will shared a long, ten minute kiss that drew the attention of nearly everybody at the gate.

The only thing that was able to separate them was an insistent flight attendant who told them that Camille was about to miss the final call for the flight.

I think Camille seriously considered staying in Boston with Will. I was quite surprised to see Camille, who was sitting alone on the opposite side across the aisle from me. I know that Camille was physically on the plane, but her heart had definitely been left in a lovely apartment in Cambridge.

Despite her feelings for Will, Camille still spent the night a few times a week with Kristen and me.

* * *

Aside from my new friendship with Tiny, I found myself stumbling into Amy more and more. It was as if she knew my class schedule and intentionally made herself present in between classes. I remembered when she was a shy player, not saying too much to anybody with the notable exception of Kristen. I mentioned this to Kristen, and she told me that she noticed that Amy was coming out of her shell as well.

Kristen and Amy were still talking to one another during the rehearsal. Kris was playing Mr. Proilet’s electric piano during rehearsals and playing on mine in the music studio at our apartment, so that she and Amy could play duets—duets became popular with that particular song after the Two T’s showed their proficiency that first time. I was very happy that the band members were taking time to practice together on their own.

Amy even started talking to me in the hallways. I didn’t know how to handle it, so I just listened to what she said, remembering Kristen’s advice a few months earlier, and I talked back to her.

* * *

A couple of weeks before the Spring Concert, I asked Kristen to make a special trip to the Junior High to pick up Merry for our jazz band rehearsal.

There was a bit of buzz in the music room as they noticed Merry sitting on a tall stool right next to my podium. I didn’t explain Merry’s purpose to anybody. I wanted to see the reaction of the band (including Mr. Proilet, who was sitting in the back, as usual).

We started with the song I wrote, which I referred to as the ”Fisherman Variations.” I figured out the chord progression from something that I quite enjoyed, and I brought Merry in on the joke, and she agreed to play along with it. I red-lighted the room, making the only people in the room the musicians, myself, Merry, and Mr. Proilet. The members of the chorus, who were part of other songs, were waiting patiently outside.

Before I started the song, I told everybody that I was going to add a sixteen-bar vocal solo at the point right before the finale. They seemed confused, since Merry wasn’t known as a singer, even in Junior High.

We started the song, and Kristen and Amy took the first eight-bar duet. The other duets followed, with the Two T’s doing the last duet. It was now time for Merry’s solo, and Amy, Sam, and the drummer started a light chord accompaniment as Merry started singing at my cue.

The entire band was so stunned when Merry finished that they all missed their cue for the big finale.

The song degenerated at that point, and Mr. Proilet started laughing. “I thought the chord progression sounded familiar, Jim,” he said, coming up to my podium.

“Thanks, Mr. P.”

“Merry, that was one hundred percent cute,” Mr. Proilet said, smiling at my sister.

I turned to the rest of the band. “Do you think we can do it again, this time not missing the finale?”

Everybody looked sheepish. I actually expected the laughter to interrupt the song, which is why I brought Merry in a couple of weeks before the actual performance.

We did the song again, Merry did her solo, and this time, there was no hesitation that prevented the finale.

Still, at the end, there was a lot of levity in the room.

I swore everybody to secrecy. “If this gets out to too many people,” I said, “it will spoil the surprise, and with this song, the surprise is everything!”

Everybody swore that they wouldn’t tell. Unfortunately, I heard the song occasionally sung in the hallways, and not only by band members. I hoped the song would go over well live as well as it did the second time we rehearsed it with Merry.

* * *

When the Spring Concert arrived, the jazz band was once again the closing act. A lot of people attended the concert… even more than during the Christmas Concert, which was actually unusual.

I asked Patty to use her artistic talents to create Merry’s special props. She didn’t understand what they represented, but I knew she’d understand when Merry did her performance.

My mother, step-father, and just about everybody that I knew, including the very busy Mr. Swift and his wife, were in attendance. The room was standing room only, and I think we may have violated a fire code with the crowd in attendance.

When I walked on stage with the rest of the band for the first part of the concert, I heard people start to chant, “Oogie!”

I didn’t respond to the chants. This first part wasn’t even the jazz band, just the third period class that Mr. Proilet taught. This wasn’t about me, and I was embarrassed a bit. Heck, none of the concert, not even the jazz band, was about me. It was only possible to put on a great performance with great performers, not just the conductor. I knew that Leonard Bernstein conducting a group of five year old kids who never saw an instrument before wouldn’t sound very well.

After we played our numbers, the high school chorus did their songs. They were nicely done, and my good friend Roy sang a featured solo in the song Colour My World, followed by a lovely flute solo from one of the women in the orchestral band. I recognized the flutist as a junior, and made a mental note to invite her to the jazz band next year. Watching her play gave me an idea for some songs by Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull.

It was now time for the jazz band to appear. As we set up, more and more people started to chant, “Oogie! Oogie!”

I sighed. It was kind of embarrassing. I mean, I worked my ass off, but so did over a dozen other very dedicated people. It wasn’t fair for me to be singled out like that.

I set up for the first song, which featured an extra-long featured solo by Tiny Jonas. It was very well received.

We played the rest of our set, leaving the ”Fisherman Variations“ for last.

Amy started the intro to the song, and soon the entire band broke up into eight-bar duets. Each was met by enthusiastic applause.

Finally, during the duet by the Two T’s, two members of the chorus rolled Merry onto the stage. She was sitting on a step-ladder, in front of which was a large sheet of paper that looked like bricks. The effect was that Merry was sitting on a cartoon brick wall.

In Merry’s hand was a stick with a string on it: She was the fisherman for her solo. There was a microphone strategically placed in front of Merry.

After the Two T’s finished their duet, to very enthusiastic applause when Merry started singing:

My bologna has a first name,

It’s O-S-C-A-R.

My bologna has a second name,

It’s M-A-Y-E-R.

I like to eat them ev’ry day,

And if you ask me why I’ll say,

That Oscar Mayer has a way

With B-O-L-O-G-N-A!

Merry’s solo was greeted by laughter and applause from the audience, but at the same time, the entire band geared up for the grand finale, which was strong on brass mostly because I anticipated the audience’s reaction.

When the song ended, the audience stood up for a standing ovation.

I was floored. I expected laughter and applause, but not another standing ovation.

I turned to the band, and they all stood in recognition.

The applause didn’t die down, and as I led the orchestra offstage, I started hearing chants of “Oogie!” and “Encore!”

I sighed. I hadn’t planned on another encore. Roy, who was standing off to the side of the stage watching the performance from the wings, said, “We have everybody here that did Lollipops and Roses from Kristen’s party.”

That was an excellent idea. The audience was getting more raucous, and it sounded as if they might stampede.

I told everybody to find the music to Lollipops, and for those that didn’t have it to either improvise or pretend to play. I got the featured singers from Kristen’s birthday party as well. Luckily, there wasn’t a mike on me, so Roy did the male solo alone.

All in all, it was a very well received concert. My mother and step-father were extremely proud of Merry and me, as were Kristen’s parents.

* * *

Back at Kristen’s apartment, Kristen told me, “That song makes me cry.”

“Which one? Merry’s solo?”

“No, you dork! Lollipops. I used to listen to that song a lot when I was very young. I think it was my parents’ favorite song at the time, since I heard it so much.”

“I didn’t know that. I just thought it was a pretty song that allowed plenty of opportunities for improvisation, which is really what you want to do when picking out a jazz repertoire.”

“Don’t make it sound so clinical, Jim,” Kristen said. “Just say, ‘I thought it was a romantic song,’ and let it drop.”

“I thought it was a romantic song,” I said, meaning every word.

Kristen threw me into a hug that evolved into one of her erection special kisses. “I love you, Oogie!”

“I love you, my lovely blonde Goddess!”

* * *

It wasn’t long after the Spring Concert that things started getting hectic. There was the Senior Musical (Music Man). Earlier that year, we had open auditions in the Junior High for the part of Amaryllis, Marian the Librarian’s music student, and for Winthrop, Marian’s brother. Both parts were for younger people, and it was an opportunity for junior high students to participate in the musical.

I helped Merry learn the “over-hand exercise” song that Amaryllis plays on the piano in the play, and I secretly hoped that Merry would win the part, but I think that the faculty director thought that if Merry got the part, claims of nepotism might be charged, since I was a regular fixture of the school musical since I was in seventh grade.

I had to admit that the girl they chose had a better singing voice—almost an adult’s voice—whereas Merry’s voice was more of a childlike quality, which I thought was more apropos for the character. However, I didn’t play favorites once the part was cast, and helped the girl, whose name was Mary, learn the “over-hand exercise” and other musical parts that she needed to learn. I realized while I was working with Mary that her voice was much more suited than Merry’s was for the Goodnight, My Someone duet that she sang with the leading lady in the musical.

Merry, for her part, got a part in the play in the band that Harold Hill “directs.” I taught her how to properly hold a clarinet, and then showed her how to hold it slightly wrong in order to look appropriate for the part, but still be able to play a note that was in the correct key. (I convinced Mr. Proilet that I could get the rag-tag actors on the stage band to actually play their real part. It was a suggestion I grew to regret!)

Kristen, Patty, and Camille, meanwhile, were spending most of their time with the Senior Prom, and didn’t have time to help out with the musical.

Mr. Proilet had his hands full getting an orchestral band to get the brass parts working properly for the show stopping tunes, and I brought Tiny on board—I just needed to work with him for a couple of hours before he got the songs correct, since he still was a novice at sight reading music. Tiny made my life easier, as he could help me by acting as an assistant director when I was working with the “specialty music” including the barber shop quartet numbers.

Don’t let anybody tell you that a high school musical is a simple affair. It most certainly isn’t. The type of people who aspire to be actors, musicians, and singers tend to be prima-donnas, and everybody offered their own ideas on how everything should be done properly.

Kristen attempted to get the movie version of the musical with Robert Preston and Shirley Jones on Betamax, but it wasn’t available. There was a soundtrack album, although it wasn’t still in print, but Kristen’s dad managed to have a copy of it from the 1960s that wasn’t too scratched up.

The more I heard the soundtrack album, the more I thought the person that was playing Harold Hill might not be perfect for the part. He did have a forceful voice, which would be useful for the Trouble number (one of the showstoppers that I was assigned), but he didn’t have the range for the Till There Was You and Marian the Librarian numbers (actually, he did have the range, but he couldn’t hold the notes long enough without bending them, which sounded quite phony).

Fortunately for me, my friend Roy was able to work with that actor for a week, and actually improved the actor’s voice, explaining how to breathe and other tricks of the trade. The person playing the part was more an actor than a singer, and Roy’s dedication to his singing craft really helped the actor.

I didn’t think the musical would be ready for the date we were planning, but in the last few weeks, everything started to really come together, including the phony musicians, much to my surprise.

This was the first time I was involved in the direction of the school musical. Before, I was just a performer and not a person actually charged with putting things together. It was a lot of work, and it made me think back to the past three years when I was a prima-donna myself.

The musical pulled together, and word of mouth after the first performance sold out the other three performances. We were even requested to do a special performance at the Junior High, since a lot of their members had parts on stage—two of them pretty important as well. Despite a couple of technical problems due to the differences in the auditoriums between the High School and the Junior High, the kids seemed to really enjoy the musical, or maybe it was the time off from classes that the musical afforded them.

Chapter 19—Advice and Senior Weekend I

Did you write the book of love?

And do you have faith in God above,

If the Bible tells you so?

Now, do you believe in rock and roll?

Can music save your mortal soul,

And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Don MacLean

American Pie

After we returned from the junior high where we performed the final performance of Music Man, Mr. Proilet invited me to a late afternoon at Vaughn’s.

“Jim, I’m quite amazed at the amount you were able to accomplish for the musical,” my music teacher told me.

I brushed off the compliment. “This isn’t my first performance at the school. However, I now know what the other students went through to put on Guys and Dolls and Annie Get Your Gun.”

Mr. Proilet shook his head. “You don’t understand, Jim. Nobody has bit off as much as you did for the musical. This year has been more of a cakewalk for me than it was in any year past.”

“Huh? I saw you working with Seventy Six Trombones and its final reprise, and that took a lot of hard work.”

“And while I was doing that, you were doing Lida Rose, Wells Fargo Wagon, Till There Was You, Marian the Librarian, the square dance number, and most of the others! The bit of side business that you added for the train number was classic.”

I laughed. “Actually, the Rock Island bits were added by Roy…”

“You suggested Roy, who nobody actually considered, as he was a sophomore just as you, and he worked wonderfully! In addition, every one of the numbers you were responsible for were nearly showstoppers, not just the ones that were supposed to be showstoppers,” Mr. Proilet interrupted. ”Trouble got an ovation, but just about anybody could make that song get one—it was written as an ovation piece. You made the Lida Rose/Will I Ever Tell You duet an ovation piece! Almost all of the parts you put your effort into were showstoppers, Jim.”

I shook my head.

“Jim, you couldn’t have put your own personal mark on this play any more if you managed to stick Hooked on a Feeling into it, somewhere. In fact, I was waiting to hear the barbershop sing that on their offstage walk instead of Good Night Ladies!”

I laughed. Roy actually suggested that—jokingly, of course—at one point.

“Jim, you have more talent as a sixteen year old than I see in professional conductors of major symphonies. I don’t think Lenny Bernstein will be looking over his shoulder at you—at least, not until you graduate—but he’s a fucking minority!”

I never heard my music teacher use profanity before. He was really impassioned.

“Have you thought of Julliard?” Mr. Proilet asked, seriously.

I shook my head. “Kristen has her heart set on Harvard, and she’s going to wait two years for me to be there with her. New York and Boston are five hours away by car, but on a college student’s schedule…”

“How about Berklee? That’s in Boston.”

I heard of that school. A bit different than Julliard, but almost as prestigious. I hadn’t really considered actually attending college. I thought I’d find a job somewhere in Cambridge as a trumpet or piano player…

Mr. Proilet saw the uncertainty in my eyes. “Jim, you have a magical gift. When I first saw you in seventh grade, I thought, ‘another damned prima-donna.’ Thurd said that you were exceptional, but he says that a lot. This was one time when he delivered. If anything, he understated your ability!”

Mr. Thurd was my music teacher in Junior High. I remember Mr. Proilet didn’t take me seriously the first year I did the musical, but by the time the show went to performance, the relationship between Mr. Proilet and I completely changed. We were no longer adversarial, and he kept pushing me to try more and more things. I was singled out as a soloist as well, which didn’t make me very popular with the older students.

“Mr. Proilet, I mean no offense, but I’m quite aware that there are two ways to spell the word ‘musician,’” I said. “The most common way is B-R-O-K-E. Maybe if Kris and I get married, money won’t be a problem. If that happens, I’ll be able to play just for the fun of it. I don’t want to…”

Mr. Proilet wouldn’t hear it. “If you have money, you’re ahead of the game. You need to consider this: Bernstein isn’t hurting for money, neither is Fiedler. You have the potential to dwarf either one. You might not do the Pops every year, or you might not get the opportunity to rewrite Romeo and Juliet as a musical, but you’ll do your own thing. I know it, Jim.”

“I still have a couple of years in school,” I said. “I’ll continue to work at what I’m doing. I think it’s fun, and while it continues to be fun, I’ll continue doing it.”

Mr. Proilet sighed. “You give me a couple of years, and don’t slack off. I’ll get you a scholarship so that Kristen doesn’t need to be an issue. Marry her—she’s your muse and just the two of you together spurs you on to astronomical heights. I’ve seen you grow this year more than you have in any other previous year, and this year, whenever you did something wonderful, Kristen was right there. However, even if anything happens with the two of you, I can probably get you a scholarship to Julliard, Berklee, or anywhere else that has a realistic music program.”

I never saw Mr. Proilet so animated. It was embarrassing. I don’t consider myself to be as good as any of the people the Mr. Proilet was saying, but I figured he was just trying to hammer the point home.

“I’ll make you this promise, Mr. Proilet.”

“Jean.” He pronounced it the French way, like “John.”

“Jean?”

“My first name. You are more than my equal. Call me Jean. If you wish to call me Mister in class, feel free. Between us, we’re friends. Soon I’ll be calling you Mister.”

“If you say so,” I said, feeling strange. “I’ll make you this promise, Jean: When music becomes work, I will stop working. Until then, I’ll continue working hard at it. All right?”

My music teacher furrowed his brow trying to make sense of what I said. Finally, he smiled. “The day that music becomes work to you, we’ll have a real American Pie… it will definitely be the day the music dies.”

I laughed at the reference. It was difficult to consider this man that I’ve called Mr. Proilet as ‘Jean,’ but I’d try to remember. As long as music continued to be fun, it would be what I liked to do. Doing it with Mr. Proilet was always fun.

Mr. Proilet paid the tab and he drove me back to the High School. Kristen was waiting by her Camaro.

“Sorry for stealing Jim for so long, Kristen,” Mr. Proilet said.

“That’s all right. I just got out from doing some planning with some friends a few minutes ago.”

In the car, and back at the apartment, Kristen and I talked about what Mr. Proilet said. I told her my big fear: a school such as Julliard might be so focused on turning me into their idea of a musician that I might never become my own idea of a musician.

“Why didn’t you tell that to your teacher?” Kristen asked.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “My idea of a musician is difficult to imagine, Kristen. If you’re with me, then it’s easy.”

“I’ll be with you, Jim.”

I looked at the seriousness in Kristen’s eyes. “I know you will. Would you really like to live a musician’s life?”

Kristen shrugged. “I’d be a musician’s wife. It’s not the same.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You misunderstood me. Would you like to live a musician’s life?”

“Me? A musician?” Kristen laughed.

She saw the serious look in my eyes. “Yes, you.”

“Why?”

“I’ve seen you play. I’ve seen you help Amy. You get almost as much joy out of music as I do, and you put less than a tenth of the effort that I do.”

“Me?” Kristen was completely taken by surprise.

“You become a musician—a millionaire musician,” I said, smiling. “I’ll become one as well. Together, we can redefine music together.”

“The two of us?” Kristen said.

From the look that Kristen gave me, it occurred to me that she never even considered this option.

* * *

I found one of my best male friends in the hallway the next day. “Roy? I need help with a female singer.”

Roy looked at me strangely. “The musical is over, the concert is over. Are you thinking of putting words to Pomp and Circumstance?”

I laughed at the suggestion, and tried to merge the words ”Hooked on a Feeling“ to the processional to Pomp. The two of us laughed at that. “Actually, I have somebody with a wonderful voice, but it has never been trained.”

“How old? Fourteen?”

“Not Merry, and she’s fifteen,” I smiled. “Eighteen.”

“Kristen?”

I nodded. Roy and I seemed to communicate a lot with few words.

Roy thought a few moments. “Eighteen is old.”

“Not impossible, though,” I said.

“Didn’t say that. What’s her range? Alto?”

“Don’t classify her. Let her find her own range.”

Roy nodded. “She plays keyboards surprisingly well. You starting a group?”

I laughed. “Maybe eventually. How long before we could get something… interesting?”

Roy shrugged. “Have you told her your plans?”

“Not exactly.”

It was Roy’s turn to laugh. “After you get out of the hospital, Jim!”

* * *

I was sitting in the music room. It was the Monday before the Senior Weekend. Thursday evening would be the Prom. For the rest of the weekend, Kristen made her own plans that involved us as well as Camille, Patty and Toby, Wendy and Gerry, Roy and Jill, Jackie and a guy named Steve, Lynette, Tiny and June. Tiny and June were a surprising last minute addition, and Lynette and Camille were both going stag.

Mr. Proilet was in his “father” mood.

“Jim, you can turn a bunch of musically challenged students into the equivalent of a Broadway production.”

“You’ve told me that.”

“You cannot turn Kristen into the female Jim Crittenhouse in a matter of weeks!”

“I’ve got a couple of years…” I started.

Mr. Proilet let out an audible sigh. “Kristen is talented. Have you talked to her about singing?”

“No,” I admitted. “I wanted to sound it out with Roy and…”

“That’s not the way you do it, Jim, and you know it,” my teacher told me. “You’re not her Svengali!”

“Her what?” I asked.

“Look it up at the library. Ask your friend Camille. You’re trying to turn her into Pygmalion… look that up, too.”

“What are you saying?”

“Why do you do all you do with music?” Mr. Proilet asked.

“Because I love it.”

“Exactly!”

“Exactly what?” I asked, confused.

“If you force music on Kristen, it will turn her off. What happens when somebody tries to force you to play a stringed instrument?”

I remembered a particularly obnoxious music teacher in elementary school that thought that I should be a violin virtuoso.

Suddenly, I understood my teacher’s worries. “Am I doing that?”

“Sadly, yes,” Mr. Proilet said. “If you force her, she’ll resent it. You’ll be driving a wedge between the two of you.”

I sighed. “How do I do it, then?”

“Slowly, and let her choose her own pace. She’s not you, so don’t use yourself as a benchmark. Treat her the same way as you treated that actor that played Harold Hill in the musical. Work with her, but don’t push her. Keep it fun, and let her be herself.”

My teacher gave me more advice that day, but I realized that I learned the important bits.

* * *

At the senior prom, I danced to a lot of the songs with Kristen. As I listened to the group that was performing, I was assessing their talents, spotting their weaknesses, and thinking how slight changes could transform them from a band that did proms to a band that could get the bigger venues.

June Rodgers and Tiny Jonas found the two of us on the dance floor, and June asked if we could switch partners.

I smiled. “Sure.”

I then took Tiny by the arms and started to dance with him, which had the effect of reducing Kristen and June into convulsions of laughter, among other people.

We quickly switched so that I was with June, and Tiny was with Kristen.

June was a lovely cheerleader, and she was about three or four inches smaller than Kristen. She had a cute face, and she was very light on her feet. Dancing with June made me feel that I was a much better dancer than I really was.

I looked at Kristen and Tiny. They were dancing close together. June saw where my attention was, and moved closer to me and we slow danced together as well.

After that song, it seemed that I was on a list as a partner for each and every cheerleader present at the prom. One after another, they took over, one dance at a time.

When Lynette Robbins took her turn, I asked, “How come I’m the focus of attention from the cheerleaders?”

Lynette looked at me as if I was kidding her. “You don’t know?”

“No,” I answered, seriously.

“The cheerleaders never had as good a friend as you, Jim.”

Lynette said this so seriously that I was speechless. Despite the fact the song the band was playing was a fast number, she pulled her body close to mine, and I could feel the warmth of her body through my clothes.

After the end of the song, Camille started toward us, but Lynette shot her a look, and continued dancing the next song with me.

The next song was a slower number, and Lynette was still slow dancing with me. Lynette moved her lips toward my ears and whispered, “You are the most wonderful guy in school. You refuse to take advantage of girls when given the opportunity. You also alerted Cammy about the best cheerleader we’ve had. You had a lot to do with getting rid of that asshole Tim Hawking.”

I shrugged. I knew that Lynette didn’t know the entire story about Tim Hawking.

“You hang out with Cammy, but you don’t really ogle the cheerleaders. In fact, you’re the opposite of a cheerleader groupie; you are a real friend. We owe you a lot, and we seniors will be saddened to know that we won’t be around with you the next couple of years.”

“Cammy said you and she have a thing for Kristen,” I said, trying to change the subject.

Instead of looking shocked, Lynette simply nodded. “Cammy and I swing both ways.”

I remembered my conversation with Will Swift last Thanksgiving, and adapted one of his favorite sayings. “That means you have the capacity to love twice as many people as I can.”

Lynette actually stopped dancing and stared at me. She didn’t see me laughing at her. After a few moments, she started dancing with me again. “You know, if I said that to any other guy, they’d try to tell me how much they understand while trying to get me to agree to a threesome with Cammy. You didn’t do that. You really are amazing.”

I didn’t mention that I have had many opportunities to have a threesome with Cammy, but never took any.

“I know a guy who also ‘swings both ways,’ as you put it,” I said. “He’s a really nice person. If you were trying to shock me, it didn’t work.”

“You are very unusual,” Lynette said.

She then stopped dancing and gave me a long kiss in the middle of the dance floor. Her tongue was insistent and our action was noticed by many people, including Kristen, who mostly looked amused.

“I’m looking forward to this weekend,” Lynette said after finally breaking the kiss.

“So am I,” I said, smiling.

* * *

We were in one of a set of limos that Kristen hired leaving the senior prom.

I felt a little out of place. Of all the people in our group, Roy and I were the youngest by at least a year. Of course, being the boyfriend of the hostess for the rest of the weekend gave me certain benefits of being the “host.”

Surprisingly, none of the guys treated me as a kid. They seemed quite interested in what I had to say, and spoke with me about the kind of songs they liked (after all, popular music was considered my specialty, and one people could identify with).

I think I earned my own badges over the past year. After all, I was known as “Oogie” to just about everybody in my school. Since the name referred to the song I dedicated to the most wonderful girl in the world, I found that I had little problem with it.

Of course, my real friends called me Jim. The big exception was Kristen, who called me “Oogie” just about any time the feeling hit her. Did I have a problem with that? Are you fucking kidding?

Actually, the people who were part of Kristen’s birthday party started referring to me as “Oogie Woogie,” the name that Camille came up with before Kristen’s birthday party. I thought of “Oogie Woogie” as a persona, and not as myself; that showman who had no embarrassment when he stood at a microphone and sang a very personal love song to the Goddess of his dreams in front of strangers and even her parents. The guy who could get his lover’s mother to sing a song in public after having left the field for almost twenty years.

When Tiny wasn’t with June, he was near me. I think other people bothered him. He was known as an athlete, but due to his skin color and other biases, he really never was part of the “in crowd.” He felt more comfortable with the musical crowd, which readily accepted him once we found out he was talented, and that crowd seemed to have no concept of skin color or stupid stereotypes… at least, that described most of the people who were part of my jazz band.

Tiny seemed to think that he owed me a debt of gratitude. I thought this was strange, since Tiny was the savior of nearly every pretty girl in the school: Tim Hawking had all the makings of a serial rapist with the scary benefit of owning Lucky Tickets.

I didn’t know how to handle Tiny, except as an equal. He was nearly my equal on my favorite instrument, the trumpet. I would even go so far as to say that he was better at coming up with improvisational solos. If I looked at him that way, I could easily treat him as an equal. The fact that June got along with nearly everybody also helped out.

We were going to a vacation villa on Lake Michigan that had ten bedrooms, an equal number of bathrooms, lots of living space, and a boathouse on a tributary that easily led to the lake. The boathouse contained a cabin cruiser and two outboard power boats.

When we arrived, the owner of the property showed us all around, and gave everybody a half hour lesson on boating safety. During the summer, there was a roped in swimming area that was accessible from the property, but the owner pointed out that the temperature of the lake water was in the forties, so lake swimming was probably not a good idea. Luckily, there was a large heated pool that was currently in an enclosure that would be perfect for the anticipated weather.

At the lake, the owner pointed out the buoys that identified the deep waters necessary for reaching the Great Lake. We were also warned to stay out of the lake during bad weather; it may be a lake, but it was a Great Lake and its size made it dangerous when the weather turned.

Although the owner knew that we were all on a senior weekend, Kristen apparently dealt with him previously as was made clear when he always called her by her first name. She paid a hefty security deposit for the long weekend we were going to be there. Even in the event of emergency, the owner could be reached and at the property within minutes.

At one time or another during the school year, I partied with nearly everybody except June, and nobody seemed to be heavy drinkers. Even so, there were a couple of cases of Budweiser when we unpacked. By my reckoning, there would be a bit more than three cans of beer for every person in our group—a number I thought was a bit high, but Kristen assured me that amount could be managed.

Being one of the youngest people at the property, I had the least knowledge of what to expect on a “senior weekend.”

Kristen and I got the master bedroom, and the others picked rooms that were convenient. People quickly changed into bathing suits and about a half hour after the owner left, we started to head down to the swimming pool.

Outside the boathouse were a few canoes and a couple of row boats, and some couples made plans to use the boats in the future. Kristen suggested that every couple that uses a boat let Camille or her know so that there was an accounting for all the equipment and people.

I swam for about an hour and then moved out of the pool, resting on one of the lounge chairs outside in the fresh air. Tiny and June took out a row boat, and I could see him rowing the two of them out toward the lake. I watched as he dipped the paddles expertly into the water.

Kristen asked if I wanted to take one of the boats into the lake, and I declined. I was a bit water-logged and wanted get back to the villa. It was a warm day, about seventy degrees, but the air still felt a bit chilly after leaving the warm pool. Camille seemed to feel the same way, and the two of us went back into the villa.

“This is a great change of pace,” I said to Camille once we were back in the house.

“In what way?”

“I’ve been doing music, music, music since the year began. Don’t get me wrong… I love it! This is just a change of pace. I don’t have to write anything. I don’t have to help somebody who is having problems… I don’t even have a fucking piano nearby. You know?”

“How did you get so old?” Camille asked.

“Huh?” I asked.

“You sound like a teacher, not a student,” Camille said. “We’re supposed to be having the time of our lives. We’re in high school. Maybe we sweat a bit with homework and tests, but this is supposed to be the time of our lives.”

“That’s not how things are happening with me,” I observed.

“You have a lot of responsibilities. Your jazz band, the musical, tutoring Tiny and Toby. And you are in fucking tenth grade!”

“Yeah,” I said. Actually, I didn’t have any complaints, but not having any particular responsibilities relieved a burden that I hadn’t even realized that I was carrying until now. “Wait until next year. Everybody will expect me to top this year.”

“That’s a quick way to an early grave, Jim,” Camille said. “My dad was like that. Work, work, work. A heart attack on the job, and he’s gone. Poof! Just like that.”

“I don’t think…”

“I’m not saying that you’re heart attack material, Jim,” Camille said, softly. “I’m just saying that you don’t need to save the world. The one thing I didn’t mention before was that on top of all those other responsibilities, you have to deal with those tickets and assholes like Tim Hawking.”

I shrugged.

Camille kissed me warmly. “You’re a knight in shining armor, Jim.”

I didn’t feel like a fucking knight, but with Camille kissing me, I didn’t feel like complaining.

After we kissed, I decided to have a talk that I was waiting to have with Camille for a while.

“Have you written to your Valentine?” I asked.

“You mean, Will?”

“Yeah.”

I saw that Camille’s eyes were unfocused as she thought about Kristen’s brother. It was obvious that she still had it bad for him.

“What’s the attraction?” I asked.

Camille looked at me sharply. “What do you mean?”

“Cammy,” I said, soothingly. “I love Will. He loves Kristen and he seems to love me as well. I have nothing against him. However, the moment the two of you laid eyes on one another, it was as if Kristen and I were just a minor inconvenience.”

“I feel… something… when I see him. I still feel it when I think about him.”

“What is it?”

Camille looked at me, wondering if she could trust me. She must have realized that she already entrusted quite a lot in me already. “I… can’t say, but I see something in his eyes. It’s mystical.”

This sounded like what Will told me. I didn’t laugh at her. Instead, I said, “He says I have a strange aura.”

“He doesn’t recognize yours, although he saw it in Debbie, and he now sees it a little bit in Kristen and me.”

“Debbie? Your sister?”

“Yeah,” Camille said. “Will met my sister, saw her aura, and ran away. He sees it around me, but differently.”

“This sounds so…”

“I know, Jim,” Camille said. “If you don’t see it, it’s difficult to understand it. Will actually sees it. What he describes is strange, but you have to admit that there is no explanation for your Lucky Tickets either, but they do exist. I’ve learned to accept some weird things. I can tell that Will is serious when he tells me about his auras, and I believe him. He has no reason to lie to me.”

“I sort of feel that way as well,” I admitted. “Will first told me about his auras when we were touring MIT. I felt it was a bit ironic, but I could tell he was serious.”

“Jim, when you see auras around people, you don’t always tell people about it. Will trusts you quite a lot to tell you. I think he’s only told Kristen, you, and me about them.”

“I know, but you didn’t answer my question. What’s the attraction between you and Will?”

“All right,” Camille said. “Will is bisexual. So am I.”

“And…” I said, prodding Camille.

“Jim, you sleep with me a few times a week, right?”

“Yes…”

“And you love Kristen, wholly and totally.”

Of course, I thought. “Uh, huh…”

“And I love her as well.”

“I’ll accept that.”

Camille raised her eyebrows. “Interesting way to put it, Jim.”

“Cammy, I have no way to know what’s going on in your mind. You say you are in love with Kristen, and you act that way. I’ll accept that.”

“You don’t go any further?” Camille asked.

“Will told me that as a bisexual, he loves everybody. It sounds wonderful, the way he puts it. At the same time, however, it sounds lonely. He’ll love anybody, which is not the same thing. He doesn’t discriminate, which may be considered something positive, but what if you don’t discriminate between a good person… such as Albert Schweitzer, and a bad person… such as Adolph Hitler?”

Camille considered my remarks. It was a measure of how much she valued my opinions, even when she disagreed with them.

“You point out an interesting trap, Jim.”

“I talked with Will for a while last Thanksgiving.”

Camille said, “What I was thinking is that Will fits a part of me that nobody else does. It’s a part of me that he fits perfectly. At the same time, Kristen fits a different part of me. I could be with both and there would be no overlap.”

“And how is that different when you are with Kristen and me?”

“You and Kristen fit, and Kristen and I fit,” Camille said. “It’s almost the same thing, but with her.”

“The way that you describe it, Camille, is that no two people can possibly love one another a hundred percent.”

“Huh?”

“You fit Kristen, I fit Kristen. That’s a hundred percent between three people. Will fits you, Kristen fits you. Another hundred percent between three people.”

“Yeah?” Camille looked confused.

“Up until you came into our bed, Camille, I would have sworn that Kristen fits me, one hundred percent. I thought I fit her the same way.”

“What changed?”

“Love isn’t either/or, Camille. I can love Kristen one hundred percent, and still love you. You and I don’t actively make love with each other in bed, but that’s because we both don’t know Kristen’s feelings on the matter. What if Kristen asked you to fuck me?”

“She won’t!” Camille said.

“You can predict Kristen like that? Congratulations, Cammy. I’ve yet to be that sure of her myself. She seems to have a terrible jealous streak in her, but at the same time, she already gave you and Patty permission when she came back from Austria last winter. Remember?”

Camille didn’t answer, but obviously remembered Kristen’s conversation with Patty and her.

I continued. “I don’t think there’s another guy that will love her like me, even her brother. She knows that. She accepts you because there’s no competition between us. However, that day when you told me about the tickets on Lake Shore Point, Kristen was angry and thought I might be thinking of you romantically.”

Camille looked shocked. “What?”

“It didn’t take much for me to reassure Kristen, but her jealousy is still there. Do you remember that terrible fight that Kristen and I had last autumn?”

“The one that Sherry helped you guys through?”

“Yeah,” I said. “This is private, because it’s between Kristen and me, but I thought you might want to know. Kristen sort of insinuated that she wanted me to sleep with somebody else… make love to another girl. I didn’t want to—the only girl for me was and is Kristen. There was more to that argument but that’s really personal. Anyway, she can be jealous on the one hand, and want me to have sex with another girl at the same time!”

There was silence as Camille thought about what I just said.

“Anyway,” I continued, “you love her differently. I can’t read your mind, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you loved her a hundred percent. I also love Kristen one hundred percent. You don’t add them together, Camille.”

Camille shook her head. “That can’t be. Anything I can do with Kristen, you can also do, physically.”

“Bullshit, Cammy! For a genius, you are sometimes obtuse. You connect with her emotionally. You, Cammy, rule your life by emotions: don’t tell me any different! You are almost like Patty that way!”

Camille didn’t have any answer for that.

“What if you had children, Cammy?”

“Huh?” Camille looked at me strangely.

“What if you had children? What if you gave birth to a girl and a boy?”

Camille looked confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Pretend you’re married and you have two or three children.”

Camille decided to play along. “All right.”

“You give birth to your first child. You love it, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You love it wholly and totally, because it’s your child.”

“Right… Oh! I get it!” Camille said. “When my second child is born, I’ll love it just as much. I don’t love the first any less. Then the third one, and so on…”

I smiled. “You see, love isn’t something you add.”

After a couple minutes of silence, Camille said, “So, when did you get so fucking old?”

* * *

My worries about the beer turned out to be partially founded. Tiny, a person who didn’t drink, was a wonderful device that kept belligerent behavior from happening. He managed to keep an obviously inebriated Steve, the date who was with Camille’s cousin, from driving one of the outboards. Instead, he offered to act as the pilot as he and June drove Jackie and Steve, who decided that it was much nicer to neck in the front of the boat without having to worry about piloting the boat. They all came back happy after an hour.

Friday at noon, Lynette got everybody together and announced the first “Twelve Party.” I was informed that this was a tradition that she learned last year when she was at the Senior Prom—her boyfriend was a senior then. At noon and at midnight, there would be a Twelve Party. Lynette asked each of the people at the party to write down who they wanted to the first party’s victim. I didn’t have any idea what to expect, so I wrote Camille’s name on my ballot.

Lynnette collected all the ballots. She read each one out loud. I got very nervous when I heard my name announced twice, but before the end of the ballots were read, it was obvious that Camille was going to have the majority of votes.

“Where is the first Twelve Party taking place?” Camille asked. She apparently knew about this tradition, and didn’t seem to mind being the victim. Nobody else seemed to have a clue about the parties that Lynette announced, although from Kristen’s smile, I think she was briefed in advance.

Lynette shrugged. “The lake would be perfect, but it’s too cold. Get into the middle of the deep end of the swimming pool, under the diving board.”

Camille simply nodded and we all headed for the pool. Neither Lynette nor Camille told anybody what was going to happen, so I was quite curious. At the pool, Camille simply dove in and moved to where Lynette directed. There were a bunch of beach balls and other floating toys that Lynette had inflated earlier that she now threw into the water near the deep end.

Lynette entered from the shallow end of the pool, and swam to Camille. The two girls kissed, and the beach balls hid at least some of the activity between the two girls, but it was obvious to everybody that Lynette was freely groping Camille.

All of us watched the two girls making out for about a minute. Although most of the action underneath was hidden, it became obvious when Lynette swam away toward the ladder that she now had possession of Camille’s bathing suit!

“OK, folks! Camille is in the water for an hour. Everybody is expected to kiss her during this period, and there are no limits on the touching that you can do. Remember, however, that touching her gives her permission to touch back! Now… everybody get into the pool!”

I looked at Kristen, who shrugged. She got into the water, and was the first person to swim up to Camille. The two girls kissed passionately, giving everybody a display that only I was privy to over the past couple of months. As with Lynette, a lot of the action was hidden underwater, though.

Kristen broke their kiss and turned to me and waved. I, much the same most of the others, was still staring at Kristen’s and Camille’s wild kiss. “Get in here, Oogie!”

I jumped into the pool, careful to avoid the floating balls, and I swam over to Camille. The three of us pulled together into a three way hug. When I grabbed Kristen, I was surprised when I noticed her bikini bottoms were lowered.

Kristen reached into my bathing suit, and stroked my erection, which was already hard.

I rubbed Camille’s breasts and reached down to her pussy. A couple of weeks earlier, Kristen had dared Camille to shave between her legs, and their sexual play afterward was so intense that Camille kept herself shaved. I also enjoyed Camille’s shaved snatch; it was a marked difference from when I rubbed Kristen.

I heard somebody swimming close by and saw Patty swimming over with Toby, so I pulled Kristen away after pulling up her bottoms to allow them access to Camille.

Over the next hour, every couple went over to Camille at one point or another, while others played catch with the beach balls. More than a couple of the balls found their way out of the pool, but by that time, everybody knew that Camille was naked. All of the women kissed Camille briefly, the exceptions being Kristen, Lynette, and Patty, all of whom gave her longer and more personal kisses. The males, of course, were a bit less hesitant than their partners.

Jackie seemed to be the most hesitant to kiss her cousin. I wondered if it was because Camille was family, since I heard that Jackie was a bit wilder than the way she was acting during this trip.

Most interesting of all was when June and Tiny kissed Camille. I was close by, sharing a hug with Kristen and I saw Camille close her eyes when she kissed Tiny, but her eyes shot open wide a few moments afterward. She broke at the kiss and stared at Tiny for a few moments, and then at June. June laughed, and Tiny was smiling. Camille laughed herself and kissed Tiny again, and then June.

I wondered what that was about.

After the hour was up, Lynette swam over for a kiss before handing Camille her bathing suit back. I watched Camille get dressed, and she kissed Lynette once again when she was dressed. Again, their kiss was extremely passionate.

Camille broke the kiss and swam to the ladder.

In her hands was Lynette’s bathing suit!

Everybody laughed at Lynette stranded in the middle of the pool.

Lynette simply shrugged, and came up the ladder herself, apparently not worried about her nudity. She found the table where Camille threw her bathing suit and casually put it on in front of everybody.

Apparently, the Twelve Party had its intended effect. People seemed much looser after that, and the couples were more open with their kissing and cuddling of their partners, although they rarely involved outsiders at this point.

Camille found me and said, “You might want to get ready for midnight.”

“Huh?”

“Lynette, Patty, Toby, Kristen, and I are voting for you tonight.”

I shrugged. “Do the guys have to kiss me?” I asked.

“Only if you insist. Most guys shy away from that sort of thing.”

“I’d be uncomfortable, although I’m not sure why,” I said. “The girls don’t seem to mind kissing one another.”

“You’re just a guy,” Camille said. “You’re not Superman.” She got a faraway look in her eyes. “Tiny might be Superman, though.”

“What was that all about with them before?” I asked.

“I was surprised when I reached for Tiny’s bathing suit. I had heard that he was big, but I found that he was huge and he wasn’t even erect!”

I laughed. “It must be enormous if it impressed the Great Camille!”

Camille laughed at that. “I would vote Tiny for tonight, but he really seems shy about that. I don’t think he’d handle it well.”

“Do you think I will?” I asked doubtfully.

“You’ve played with other girls when you were with Kristen. I know you’ve done Patty and me,” Camille said. “A few other girls rubbing you isn’t going to bother you, nor will Kristen get too possessive. You were right before, she does seem comfortable around you. She’s even comfortable with me sharing the bed with the two of you. Maybe she might not like actual sex with you and one of the other girls, but as you pointed out, she gave Patty and me permission.”

“Within reason, I think,” I added, not wanting Camille to get the wrong idea. I looked at the pool and saw that there were light fixtures underneath the water. Camille noticed what I was looking at, and said, “Tonight’s in the hot tub, Jim. There’s also a new rule for the midnight party that you’ll probably enjoy.”

“Oh?” I asked.

Camille would tell me no more.

For dinner, we ate hamburgers and hot dogs.

Kristen and I went for a moonlight cruise in one of the canoes. We found that it’s not particularly safe to fool around in a canoe. During one quickly aborted attempt, we realized that a canoe was very prone to capsizing and decided to wait until we got back from our ride.

Kristen and I ended up in the master bedroom for a quick sixty-nine at ten. “I don’t want all those other girls getting your best,” Kristen said. She knew that I was going to be the “victim” at midnight.

Later on, we all were in the room that housed the hot tub for the second Twelve Party. Lynette took the ballots, and I wasn’t too surprised that I was selected as victim, but I hadn’t expected that it would be unanimous! I voted for myself because I hadn’t wanted to upset Camille’s plan, but I hadn’t known that everybody else was in on it as well.

Lynette told Kristen to lead me into the hot tub.

Kristen took my hand and we started toward the tub.

“Wait,” Lynette said. “I forgot. There’s a special rule for this party.”

“What is it?” I asked, remembering that Camille warned me about this.

“No bikinis allowed in the hot tub. Only guys can wear bathing suits—except the midnight victim, of course.”

I heard a couple of gasps at Lynette’s new rule.

“Let’s make it more fun,” Lynette said, grinning and taking off her bikini as she was talking, “No bikinis at all in this room!”

Kristen was already undressing, and I saw more than one guy checking out her marvelous charms. When she was finished, Kristen took me by the hand and the two of us entered the hot tub.

As soon as we entered the tub, Kristen untied my bathing suit and helped me take it off. She threw it to Camille, who was naked by this time.

Camille and Lynette were completely naked and looking at the rest of the party. “No bikinis, girls!” Lynette repeated. “And the price of entry into the hot tub is a kiss from Jim. You’ll have to wait until Kristen is finished with him… one at a time!”

The couples seemed shocked. The guys were bug-eyed, looking at the ravishing bodies of Lynette and Camille, who seemed to have no inhibitions at all with being nude with over a dozen people in the room. Camille glared at her cousin, who started to fumble with her bathing suit.

“Guys, why don’t you help your dates?” Lynette suggested.

All of the boys thought that this was a wonderful idea, and after a minute, there wasn’t a dressed female in the room.

I didn’t exactly witness this, since Kristen was sitting directly on my cock. She was actually fucking me in the hot tub! Her arms were around my neck. After our kiss, Kristen moved toward my ear and whispered, “If you kiss anybody other than Camille this way, I will have your nuts in a jar on my dresser.”

I was shocked by the way Kristen talked, and it took me a moment to understand that she made an exception with Camille.

Kristen wanted me to fuck Camille?

I looked shocked at Kristen, who smiled. “Camille’s got it bad for you, honey. The two of us I have talked quite a lot, and I promised to allow her full access to you, as long as she doesn’t steal you from me. I explained to Camille exactly what I’d do to each of her breasts, her pussy, and her ass if that happens. I think she’d rather fuck all the horses on the Budweiser team than get me pissed. Anyway, I told her before that if she doesn’t do it at this party, my deal is off, so you should expect it to happen. I don’t want you to refuse her because you think I’d be upset.”

Kristen was moving up and down on my cock as she said that. If I hadn’t come in her mouth just a couple of hours before, I might have shot into her at that moment. My girlfriend was making a gift of one of my closest friends!

Kristen kissed me briefly again. “Maybe Patty, too, but not during this trip. I don’t think Toby would understand.”

Again, my jaw dropped, but Kristen disengaged herself from me and swam away. Kristen was actually going to let me fuck other girls? This sounded totally unlike the jealous and protective Goddess I knew.

June was the next one to get into the hot tub to get her price of admission. She came over to me quickly and kissed me full on the lips.

June’s skin was chocolate-brown in color, and the center of her breasts were quite dark—dark chocolate, perhaps—making her nipples look like Hershey’s kisses with light pink tips. I only saw her pubic hair briefly, but it was dark and curly.

June opened her mouth and stuck her tongue on my lips, making me open and accept it. She tasted sweet, and her body was warm and inviting.

“I’m sorry I didn’t kiss you properly at Sherry’s initiation,” I whispered to her.

“You won’t believe how unusual you were at that initiation,” June said, giggling.

I considered June to be very conservative, since she never attended parties. However, her actions with me in the hot tub belied her reputation. She hugged me tightly as she pushed her breasts into my body and continued kissing me for a lot longer than was necessary for the “price of admission.” Nervously, I glanced at Tiny, who didn’t seem to have a problem with this—he was actually smiling!

After we broke the kiss, June whispered to me. “I need to talk with you later.”

“No problem, June,” I said. “I owe you a lot for letting me know that Tiny was a great trumpet player.”

June smiled at me. She touched my erection, and it jumped in her hand. “Hmm,” she moaned, but luckily she didn’t handle me too much. I was a bit too shy to actually touch her like that, knowing that Tiny was a friend, so I didn’t reciprocate except to kiss her once again.

After a few moments, June swam away to let the next girl get her turn.

The next girl was Jill, one of the senior cheerleaders that Camille and I hooked up with Roy for the prom. “Thanks for introducing me to Roy,” Jill whispered before she kissed me. Her kiss wasn’t too long, and she seemed nervous. I made sure that I didn’t spook her, and didn’t push my luck with her—Roy was a very good friend of mine, and I would hate to make him an enemy. After our kiss, Jill whispered in my ear. “What are everybody whispering to you?”

“They are saying, ‘I’m just whispering to you to keep Jill guessing!’”

Jill laughed and swam away.

Jackie was next, and she was followed by Wendy, whom I hadn’t seen nude since our outings in Kneely Park. Wendy’s kiss was longer than Jackie and Jill’s, and she also pressed her enormous breasts into my body. “It’s been a long time, Jim,” Wendy whispered. “I’m going to UCLA and I’ll be leaving for California in a few weeks, so this is going to be a farewell.”

“It has been wonderful knowing you. Is Gerry going to California as well?”

Wendy shook her head. “He’s going to be a rock musician. I know what that kind of lifestyle entails. We’re still going to be friends, but I think I need more stability in my life.”

“I plan on being a musician as well,” I pointed out.

“You are going to marry Kristen. Money won’t be as much of an issue for the two of you. You can play as a hobby and…”

“No, Wendy,” I said, gently. “Music will never be just a hobby to me.”

Wendy looked me in the eyes and then said, “I’m sorry. You’re right. It will still be nice to have Kristen’s money…”

I shook my head. “I’d cut my heart out before I leech Kristen’s inheritance for my music. I intend to make beautiful music with Kristen. If she wants to purchase a house, that’s fine. But my living expenses will be the money that Kristen and I earn as musicians.”

Wendy nodded again. “You know, you could very well do it.”

“My feelings aren’t hurt, Wendy,” I said. “A lot of people think that I see money bags when I see Kristen. I don’t. I see the most beautiful woman who ever walked the planet—no offense to you, Wendy—and a person who loves me as much as I love her, the most understanding woman that I’ve met. She’s also the person who will make coming home worthwhile to me.”

“A poet, too,” Wendy sighed.

Somebody behind Wendy cleared their throat. Wendy remembered the “admission line” that now had Patty at the front. “Sorry, Patty,” Wendy said with a laugh as she moved away.

It was Patty’s turn. She stepped into the hot tub and moved over to me and kissed me. Her mouth was open, and our tongues played together. Our bodies were pressed tightly together. I knew every inch of her body from memory, from the top of her red hair, to the toenails that always had bright red nail polish on them.

Patty’s kiss was the longest so far, apart from Kristen’s. It lasted so long, in fact, that Lynette said, “Hey, you two… get a room!”

The two of us started laughing and could no longer maintain the kiss. “It’s been a long time, Jim,” Patty said. “I missed you.”

I remembered one of my favorite images of Patty, her red hair splayed out on my lap as she was sucking me. It was an erotic memory that could get me hard every time that I thought about it. “I missed you, too.”

“I’ll come back for more, later,” Patty promised as she swam away.

Lynette, the head cheerleader, took the next turn. She gave me a wild kiss with her right hand stroking the erection that Patty’s kiss and my mental image had generated. I figured what was good for the goose was good for the gander, and stroked between her legs. It didn’t take long for my fingers to change Lynette’s breathing until I was afraid that she might have an orgasm in front of everybody.

“You are one talented sixteen year old,” Lynette breathed after she broke the kiss. “I can see why you have nearly every cheerleader ready to jump into your bed at the slightest nod from you.”

“You’re exaggerating,” I said, laughing.

“No, I’m not,” Lynette. “I’m one of them. I’ve asked Kristen…”

“Huh?” I asked.

“If she and you would be amenable to a four-way with Camille and me…”

I stared at Lynette. I knew she was wild, but what she was suggesting was quite amazing. I mean, how would you work the logistics?

Lynette said, “I know that Cammy told you that I’ve had a thing for Kristen for years. I’d be willing to do anything for a chance to do her. You know my reputation, Jim. I mean anything.”

“You’ve asked Kristen?” I said. I knew that both Lynette and Kristen had a relationship with Camille, but I didn’t know how public they made that knowledge. I thought that perhaps Kristen might be as comfortable with bisexuality as her brother was, but I didn’t want to be the one that announced that to the world.

Lynette nodded. “I was quite specific in my request.”

“Then whatever Kristen says is my answer,” I said. I was young, but I really didn’t think I would have the stamina to live up to what this weekend was shaping up to become.

Camille followed Lynette, and she must have realized Kristen’s ultimatum, because without even asking me, she impaled herself on my erection that Patty started and that Lynette maintained.

A couple of the girls were surprised by Camille’s forwardness, and they looked at Kristen to see if she would do anything about this. Kristen smiled at us, however.

“Here’s my kiss,” Camille said, quite loudly. She opened her mouth before kissing me, making her intentions quite obvious.

During the kiss, I discovered that Camille and I were the center of everybody’s attention. I finally broke away from Camille’s kiss.

“If you’re trying to make a point, Cammy, I think you’ve succeeded,” I whispered to her.

“Lynette told me she talked to Kristen, and Kristen also told me that if I don’t fuck you as soon as I get into the hot tub, I’d never have another opportunity. With my reputation, I have nothing to lose. I think you’re gaining a reputation as well.”

I laughed. Camille’s pussy felt entirely different on me than Kristen’s. Camille seemed to continuously change the grip that her pussy muscles had on my shaft in a quite wonderful way.

With all the pent-up need from kissing all the females in the hot tub, I was starting to get close. I think that Camille felt my rod thicken within her and she pushed herself off me and then dove under the water, surprising me.

Kristen moved over to me and kissed me when I felt Camille’s lips on my dick. Her hand expertly jacked me off into her mouth, and I shot my load into her.

When I was spent, I heard Camille come up from underneath the water, and she pulled Kristen away from me. She gave Kristen a deep kiss, and I knew that she was sharing my seed with my Goddess.

With the exception of Lynette and Patty, everybody looked as though they were in shock. Camille just fucked the host of the party as the hostess looked on, and now she was engaged in one very hot kiss with the hostess herself. I think only Patty knew what was being shared between the two friends, and she gave me a secret smile.

After the two girls broke the kiss, it was as if they broke the ice for the entire party. June came back over for her repeat performance, as she requested, as did every girl with the weird exception of Jackie.

During one of my visits from June, she whispered to me. “I just talked with Kristen. Archy and I would like to spend some private time with the two of you. Kristen said it was all right with her if you didn’t object. Archy has always had a thing for blondes, but Camille and Lynette are a bit wild for his tastes. Also, if he plays with Kristen, then I’ll have somebody as well: you. I never laughed my head off so much as when I heard your sister sing that silly song at the concert.”

“I’m glad I amuse you, June,” I said. “Are you sure? I’m not sure that Kristen will agree with us going all the way…”

“I’m a virgin, Jim,” June whispered. “I plan to remain one until Archy takes me on my wedding night. Archy and I are going to be each other’s first. I wasn’t asking for us to, you know…”

“Oh, I misunderstood.”

“No problem, and I’m flattered,” June smiled. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure, anything,” I promised.

“Archy thinks it was his idea. I sort of put the idea into his head.”

I giggled. “You know, I don’t have much of a reputation.”

“Neither do I,” June admitted.

“You’re beautiful, June.”

“You’re cute, too.”

“I’ll tell you what, June. Since Kris said yes, I’ll spend time with you. All right?”

June squirmed next to me, pressing her warm brown breasts into my body. “I’ll make sure you won’t regret it, Oogie!”

Before the end of the party, Lynette got out of the hot tub and made another announcement. “There’s one more rule for this special Twelve Party,” she said. “Our victim must receive a kiss from everybody without exception. Anybody that doesn’t kiss Jim will be excluded from participating in any of the remaining Twelve Parties. If you are considering that you don’t want to participate, then I will promise you that the next one will be even wilder than this one, and you’ll be very, very sorry!”

The looks of shock on all the guys in the tub were priceless. I guess I might have looked shocked as well. The girls all giggled, and goaded their boyfriends to go ahead.

The first boy to come over to me, surprisingly enough, was Tiny. He came over, careful to avoid my nude body, and kissed me on the cheek.

Tiny broke the floodgates. He was huge, and there was no way that anybody would ever call him homosexual—if they wanted to live, that is. Every other guy took their turn with me, none of them taking any longer than was absolutely necessary.

Lynette grinned in satisfaction. “All right, girls. We have a special present for the guy that gave the best performance with the kissing. I’ll go by applause, and people cannot vote for their dates. Who here votes to say that Jim gave the best kisses?”

Lynette, an able leader of the cheerleaders, managed to steer the vote quite handily. All the cheerleaders voted for me, as did Patty and Kristen, much to my surprise.

Lynette handed a piece of paper to Kristen. “Kristen, please tell our lucky winner what he his prize is for winning the Best Kiss award for the midnight Twelve Party!”

Kristen giggled as she read Lynette’s note. “Jim, you are the proud winner of a night of ecstasy with Lynette and Camille. Your girlfriend is also invited!”

Just about everybody gasped at my award.

I wondered when Lynette was going to claim her date with Kristen, and found that she had made it very public.

This was going to be one memorable weekend!

Chapter 20—Senior Weekend II

There’s a party goin’ on right here!

A celebration to last throughout the years.

So bring your good times, and your laughter too,

We’re gonna celebrate your party with you!

Kool and the Gang

Celebration

Neither Lynette nor Camille bothered putting their bathing suits back on after the midnight party. Kristen noticed them and went nude as well.

I saw many of the girls shrug. I think they figured that they were already nude in front of all of us during the party, and another peep show wasn’t going to hurt any of them. I was embarrassed by my nudity since seeing all that naked female flesh was arousing me. I bit the bullet and got out, naked, and didn’t get dressed.

Lynette put Kristen and me onto opposite sides of the doorway. “The two of you get to kiss people as they exit,” Lynette told us.

When the couples heard this, they arranged themselves so that the guys were on Kristen’s side of the door, while the girls were on my side of the door.

One by one, I kissed all the girls briefly, and let them out of the room. The guys all kissed Kristen.

Lynette and Camille were the last to depart. Lynette headed toward Kristen and Camille advanced toward me. Our kisses were much longer and much hotter.

I saw that Lynette’s kiss was quite arousing to Kristen if the state of her nipples were any indication.

“I’d love to do it in the hot tub, but I have a feeling that it might be unsanitary,” Lynette said after our kisses were finished.

“Camille already blew me in the hot tub,” I pointed out.

Lynette shrugged and looked at Camille.

“I thought it would be better to take him in my mouth than have him do it in my pussy.”

There was a communal shower just outside the room we were in, and Kristen pointed out that we could have a lot of fun in there.

“Be careful of the echos,” Camille laughed. “They’ll hear us all through the house.”

“Everybody knows what we’ll be doing tonight,” Lynette said. “Fuck them if they hear.”

“All of them?” Camille giggled.

Kristen shook her head. “You’re incorrigible, Cammy… Oomph!” Kristen was interrupted by Lynette inserting her tongue into Kristen’s mouth.

I found some hotel-style mini soaps in the shower, and opened the paper. I turned on a shower and positioned Camille under it. I used the soap to rub all over Camille’s body. I knew from experience in bed with Camille that she loved people touching her everywhere. She, like Kristen, seemed to be able to almost get an orgasm from somebody rubbing her breasts, especially when the hands caressing her were covered in soap. Once I told Camille to do that to Kristen, it became the two girls’ favorite playtime activity.

Camille enjoyed my attentions, and I slowly turned her around until she was facing the wall. From behind her, I started soaping Camille’s pussy. Since she was hairless down there, it didn’t lather as much as it did when I did this to Kristen, but I didn’t need a terrific lather. I moved my finger between Camille’s pussy lips and started to stroke her slowly.

When I felt that Camille was worked up enough, I slowly eased my cock into Camille from behind. Once again, I felt the strange sensations of Camille’s pussy pulsing around my cock and found that I enjoyed this immensely. I wondered if I could figure out a way to have Camille teach this particular trick to Kristen, as I found that I could get used to this permanently. Something told me that such a request might not be received happily from Kristen, so I tabled that thought.

I looked behind me to see that Kristen and Lynette were in a loving embrace, and they were rubbing soap between their bodies. Kristen caught my eye and smiled at me. She noticed by the fact that my thrusts were getting quicker that I was near my point of release. “Almost there?” she mouthed to me.

I nodded in response as I pumped my semen into Camille.

Camille was approaching her own orgasm, so I reached around her and started caressing her clitoris, which seemed to be very large compared to the (admittedly relatively few) others that I witnessed. I knew that Camille was sometimes loud when she came, so I moved my face to hers and kissed her in order to muffle any sounds.

I was just in time. Camille reached her ecstasy point just at the moment I kissed her. I continued rubbing her until it washed over her.

I opened my eyes and was surprised to see Kristen and Lynette next to us.

“I want to see you eat Jim’s semen from Camille’s pussy and then feed it to me,” Kristen demanded to Lynette. “Do a good job, and I’m yours for tonight only.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lynette said with a grin.

I saw Camille eat Kristen before, and it suddenly occurred to me that this was the fantasy that Kristen dreamed about… but she was having another girl eat out the girl’s pussy first!

I thought for a moment. Was it only a half year ago that Kristen and I had our first argument after Kristen told me of her fantasy? Many things have happened over this time, and it’s obvious that Kristen and I grew—together!—during that time. As I mentioned, she seemed a lot less jealous and possessive, at least as far as allowing me to fuck another woman. She was also for the first time, I thought, truly expressing her bisexual side, as opposed to just “fooling around” with Camille.

I smiled as Kristen gave me a smug look on her face as Lynette moved underneath Camille’s legs and started licking. It was such an arousing sight, that I started getting hard again. Kristen saw it and bent over to clean me off. I was amazed at the fact that she simply sucked me into her mouth, despite the fact that I knew that there was soap on my dick as well as my semen and Camille’s fluids.

It took a few minutes for Lynette to finish the job. Dutifully, she came back up from between Camille’s legs and deposited my sperm into Kristen’s mouth.

Camille asked me what I wanted to do next, and I knew what I wanted her to do. It was something that I wanted to do since last fall.

“Hand job, and make me shoot into Kristen’s face.”

“Hand job?” Camille asked, confused.

“I remember the one you gave me in Kneely Park,” I said.

Camille laughed, and did as I requested. As she did so, I fondled her to another orgasm. I didn’t cover her mouth, and I think that everybody in the house heard it. I still hadn’t shot off, so I started rubbing Camille’s breasts with the soap again.

Kristen was against the shower wall in much the same position that Camille was when I was fucking her. Lynette was between her legs, licking my Goddess. I heard Kristen come twice already, and it looked as though her third was going to happen soon.

I was amazed when I felt the sensations in my balls start up again. Camille noticed my reaction, and we both moved closer to Lynette and Kristen.

“Kristen’s face is too high,” I whispered to Camille. “Aim for Lynette. Kristen will lick it off her.”

Camille did so, and Kristen noticed when my sperm hit Lynette’s face. Kristen smiled at the two of us, and after she reached a sweet orgasm, she bent down and cleaned off Lynette’s face.

I was spent for the night, but I continued to fondle Camille. After about ten minutes, we all retired into the master bedroom.

Lynette and Kristen spent the rest of the night in a sixty-nine position. When one or the other awoke during the night, they would start licking and get each other off. I have a feeling it was quite a long night for them; their actions woke Camille and me up more than once.

I woke up at seven in the morning. Camille looked as if she just woke up as well.

“Let’s get even with them,” I whispered.

“How?” Camille grinned, enjoying the way that I think.

I told her.

We rolled the two girls over, and they must have been so exhausted that they didn’t even wake up. The two girls were on their sides. I took the end with Kristen’s face, and Camille took the other end. I started licking Lynette and I felt her start to stir. “Again?” Lynette said, groggily.

I didn’t answer her, but Camille was doing the same to Kristen, who didn’t seem to complain.

At the same time I was licking, I was masturbating myself. I didn’t know how much semen that I could muster, but I wanted it to shoot it onto Kristen’s face. It took about fifteen minutes, during which time Kristen’s eyes were staring at my cock the entire time.

I didn’t come very much, but Kristen opened her mouth and most of it landed on her tongue. I received a wonderful smile for my effort, and Kristen swallowed what she received, and then replaced me on Lynette’s crotch.

When the two girls achieved their release, we decided that it was time to get up.

Since neither Camille nor Lynette brought any clothes into the master bedroom, they were still undressed when we all walked out of the master bedroom.

We were greeted by all our friends, who burst out in spontaneous applause.

* * *

Kristen suggested that I get plenty of orange juice and coffee to drink at breakfast and I did. I was totally spent, and wondered if I could somehow get a rain check for Tiny’s and June’s rendezvous. Kristen, however, moved between the two of them and said, “Two o’clock,” which dashed that particular hope.

I never saw Kristen in such sexual heat as she was that weekend. She fucked me in public in the whirlpool, and let everybody know that she enjoyed her foursome last night. Now, she was agreeing to a party with another couple!

I spent the morning relaxing in the sun on one of the lounge chairs outside the swimming pool. The forecast for the entire weekend was sunny and in the seventies, and today was looking like it would be even warmer than the previous day. Kristen thought this was a wonderful idea, as she would be able to catch up on the sleep she didn’t get the previous night and took the lounge next to me.

“There’s the lovely couple,” Lynette commented as she saw the two of us. There were some of the couples in the water, but Kristen and I were mostly alone.

“Lynette?” Kristen said.

“Yes?”

“You told both Jim and me that you’ve always had a thing for me.”

Lynette nodded.

“Did you get your fill last night?”

Lynette considered a few moments before shaking her head.

“Good,” Kristen said, a wicked smile on her lips. “You know where I live, right?”

“I was at your playroom during the Halloween party.”

“That’s right,” Kristen said, nodding. “Jim and I can use a good pussy slave. Any time you want me, just drive to my house and tell the security guy that my pussy slave is here. If he tells you that I’m in, you are invited, and you will do whatever Jim or I tell you to do. And I mean, whatever. Fuck, suck, lick, rub, bathe us, kiss our feet, clean the apartment, do our laundry, paint the hallway… whatever. You are not allowed to wear any clothing on our property. If you agree to those terms, you are welcome to me, as well as to Jim.”

Lynette’s jaw dropped, as did mine. “Pussy slave?” Lynette asked, obviously shocked.

Kristen smiled. “Yup. Oh, we might have friends over when you’re around, or invite people over after we know you are there, so you might want to take that into consideration.”

I looked at my girlfriend as if she had two heads. I expected the cheerleader to slap Kristen’s face for what she was saying.

Instead, Lynette said, “Does that include tonight?”

“If you’re my pussy slave here, then the rules are the same here. No clothing while you are on this property. Otherwise, wait until we get back home.”

Lynette considered for a minute or two, and then started untying the bow on her halter top. After the top was off, she wiggled out of her bikini bottoms.

“All right, for the rest of the weekend, you will not answer to the name Lynette,” Kristen ordered. “If anybody calls you by name, you will correct them and tell them that you are to be called Pussy Slave.”

“All right,” Lynette’s eyes were cast down.

“That’s ‘yes, Mistress,’ Pussy Slave,” Kristen corrected.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Jim is ‘Mr. Big’ to you. You will worship our bodies and follow every order. If you ever refuse anything we request, you will be dismissed, and my offer will be canceled. You also have the right to tell us if we ask you to do something unpleasant, and we will take that into consideration. Remember, if you refuse to do anything, the offer is canceled. Aside from that, you are free to leave at any time if you need to live your life outside our home. We understand that real life will sometimes intrude and there will be no repercussions.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Lynette’s nudity attracted the attention of some of the bathers, but nobody came over.

“Oh, yes, Pussy Slave. You are today’s victim for the first Twelve Party. Jim, Camille, and I will come up with some suitable activity for you.”

“Yes, Mistress, but I was supposed to become today’s victim anyway.”

“Oh!” Kristen said, smiling. “I’ll need to talk with Camille. Anyway, please visit everybody and tell them about your new status and that you are the noon time victim. If you can find Camille, tell her I’m interested in talking with her.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Lynette said. She was blushing, but she also had a smile on her face.

“You are dismissed,” Kristen said, waving Lynette off.

Lynette walked out of the pool house, and found Toby and Patty playing badminton. They had stopped their game as they noticed the nude cheerleader approach. She said something to them, and turned and pointed at us in the pool house.

I only saw this side of Kristen a couple of times before, the last time was when we reversed roles in our Master/Slave game. Now we had our own slave! I hoped she didn’t decide that she needed a bunch of slaves.

However, there was something that was really bothering me about this. I knew that what Kristen just did was just plain wrong!

“What the fuck was that?” I demanded to Kristen.

“I enjoyed last night, Jim,” Kristen explained. “You didn’t see it, but Lynette almost started crying when we got out of bed this morning. She told me that this was a dream of hers, and she was so sad that the dream was over. I wanted to know how much she wanted to be with me.”

“That’s one thing, but what you just did involves me, Kris!” I said. “You made a very profound decision about our lives. You now have a slave, goddammit! You never even discussed it with me!”

“But…”

“You’re now having Lynette announce her slavery to all my friends. You might get off on this, but this affects me as well! What will those people think of me? I protected those cheerleaders from a rapist, but now they will think I’m forcing a cheerleader into slavery!”

“It’s Lynette’s own decision, Jim!”

“It still affects me! When June asked me for a date, I didn’t say, ‘of course!’ I made sure that you knew about it and were cool with it. It wouldn’t take me any effort at all to turn June down. I don’t need her, I just need you.”

“I’m sorry…”

Shit! Kristen was starting to cry.

“Kris, I think you might be approaching things too fast. Please consider my feelings next time, all right?”

“OK,” Kristen said.

“So, am I to assume that I can not only fuck Camille, but Lynette as well? Since I’m her slave master, I can do it whenever I want. Is that the rule, now?”

Kristen looked shocked. “Um…”

“You see?” I asked. “You told Lynette that this was the case. You told her in front of me for the first time, so I can only go by what you say. Is that the rule, now?”

Kristen lowered her head. “I guess.”

“Please think before doing things like this,” I asked Kristen, moving over to her and hugging her. “You’ve told Lynette basically that she’ll be fucking me. Let me make you a promise, Kristen. If I need a good fuck, you will be the person I look for.”

“I’m sorry, Jim.”

“I know you are, Goddess.”

“Should I apologize to Lynette now?”

I shook my head. “That would crush her. You gave her a big hurdle to jump in order to get to you. She’s jumping that hurdle. You cannot take the prize away from her! I’d suggest that you embrace your new role of slave master. I’ll go along with it for now.”

I got the biggest hug from Kristen. “When did you get so old?”

I groaned. I’ve been hearing that exact same question a lot.

* * *

Camille came out of the water and approached us. She looked wonderful when she was wet.

“I see that you’ve acquired a slave,” Camille grinned.

Kristen nodded.

“I would have been happy…”

“No, Camille,” Kristen interrupted. “I’m not sure about my relationship to you, but I’m quite sure that I don’t want you that way,” Kristen said. “I’ve talked with my brother about you, and if I used you like that, it would hurt him. You seem to be in love with Will and with me.”

Camille thought for a moment, and then bent down and kissed Kristen gently. “I do love you,” she said softly.

“Let me work out how I feel about you. I can’t say that I love you as much as I love Jim. It’s two different things.”

“That’s all I ask, Kris.”

“Now, we have a victim for the Twelve Party. What do you suggest?”

“Have her perform oral sex on everybody?” Camille grinned.

“I’m not sure that everybody is ready for public sex acts, despite what happened last night in the hot tub,” Kristen said.

“How about masturbation?”

“None of the boys will…”

“No, Kris. I mean, have Pussy Slave masturbate for everybody.”

Kristen looked thoughtful. “Yesterday, Lynette told me the point of the Twelve Parties was to involve everybody.”

“It is,” Camille said, nodding.

“I have an idea,” I said. The two girls were startled that I entered the conversation.

“What?”

“I heard this from one of the chorus guys,” I said. “He was at a bachelor party. All the guys were sitting at a dining room table. None of them were wearing pants…”

Camille picked up on it. “There’s a hooker under the table… sometimes two. Every guy has to pretend everything is normal and keep talking as if nothing is happening, even if the hooker is doing him.”

“You’ve heard of that?” Kristen asked.

“I was in the position of being under the table,” Camille said. “My sister liked to throw parties.”

“Oh,” I said, disheartened.

“It’s no longer a bad memory, Jim,” Camille said, softly.

“It would still be uncomfortable.”

“Debbie had other parties,” Camille said. “Ever hear of a circle jerk?”

My blush must have answered that one.

Kristen looked confused.

“It used to be a tradition before we changed the cheerleading squad from a bunch of stuck-up bimbos,” Camille said. “A bunch of guys, like the football team, are in a circle with their pants down. They jerk off, and the cheerleader in the middle is the target.”

“Sounds messy,” Kristen said.

“Yeah, but it’s easier than pulling a train.”

Again, Camille’s expression confused Kristen, and this time I was confused as well.

Camille sighed. “That means, a bunch of guys do a girl, one or two at a time. Sometimes the girl is on her stomach, since it is easier for her to blow a guy in that position while somebody fucks her from behind. Of course, in that position, the guys sometimes are indiscriminate in their aim. I’ve done anal as much as normal sex on some occasions.”

“You’ve done that?” I said, completely shocked.

“I’ve done even more. I’m just trying to remember them now. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to forget them. The football team is no longer encouraged to do those sort of things. In fact, Lynette and I have told the team that if anybody needs to blow off a little steam, just come to either one of us quietly.”

“Lynette, too?”

“I don’t think she does multiples except for two girls and a guy, Jim.”

“And to think that I thought of Lynette as a rather straight laced girl who just came out of her shell this weekend!”

“She’s discreet,” Camille said. “We’ve told people that if they open their mouths, the pussy supply train stops. You’d be surprised how effective such an incentive is.”

Kristen and I both laughed at this.

“Well, I don’t mind if anybody here sees Lynette and I do anything, and I think Lynette feels the same way, since she’s telling everybody that she’s your Pussy Slave right now. If you think that the others might be hesitant, remember that the two of us aren’t as narrow-minded. I’ll do her or vice versa in front of this crowd. After all, in a few weeks, I probably won’t see most of them again, except for reunions.”

“So, making her ‘victim’ isn’t much of a victimization with her, huh?” Kristen asked.

“It was the same as making me or Jim the victim,” Camille said. “Just about every girl that you invited would be happy to do Jim. They’re just scared of you, Kris. With you giving them permission, they were getting bolder, or as bold as they could with their boyfriends looking on.”

“Why didn’t you have a prom date?” I asked Camille, suddenly.

“The guy I asked couldn’t travel here.”

“Will?” Kristen asked.

Camille nodded. “I didn’t expect him to be able to make it.”

“You’ve got it bad for him, don’t you?”

Camille nodded. “I’ve got it bad for all three of you.”

Kristen slowly nodded.

Something about the way that Camille said that struck me as odd. I thought for a few moments and pushed the thought from my head.

Camille took the lounge on the other side of Kristen and the three of us lay quietly in the sun.

I woke up feeling two lips on my cock. I opened my eyes, and saw Lynette had my dick out of my bathing suit and was sucking me.

“Wakey, wakey!” Kristen giggled. “It’s almost time for the Twelve Party.”

“Any decision on Lyn… er, Pussy Slave’s task?” I asked. Lynette hadn’t stopped.

“Yes, Cammy and I have something that Pussy Slave will enjoy.”

“Ooh, good,” I said. “Pussy Slave, I think that’s enough.”

Lynette smiled as she moved her head up. She pulled my bathing suit up.

I looked around and I saw we had an audience. “Oh, my!” I said, when I realized the show I just put on.

“It’s time for the Twelve Party,” Camille announced. “I think everybody has been introduced to Pussy Slave. We have a rule that Pussy Slave is not allowed to wear any clothes while she is on this property. Does everybody know this?”

Everybody nodded.

“We have a problem, though,” Camille said.

Kristen added, “Pussy Slave has worn outfits on this property since she’s been here.”

“But that was before I agreed…” Lynette started.

A look from Kristen quieted Lynette.

“Can anybody remember what she was wearing?” Kristen asked. She picked up the bathing suit that was on the ground where Lynette placed it earlier that morning. “This is one. She wore a different bathing suit last night, and another one yesterday afternoon. That’s three…”

Camille grinned happily. “She wore an outfit when she arrived, and she wore cutoffs and a T-shirt during the volleyball game yesterday.”

“That’s five outfits. Do you agree, Pussy Slave?”

Lynette nodded sadly.

“Five spankings for each outfit. Twenty-five total.”

Lynette blanched a bit. A few of the other girls gasped at how far Kristen was going with this slave routine.

“Do you wish me to spank you in front of everybody, Pussy Slave?”

“No, Mistress,” Lynette answered.

“Well, you were wearing them before you learned the rules, weren’t you?” Kristen asked.

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Get in the deep end of the pool. If you can make it through the Twelve Party successfully, I’ll forgive your spankings.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Are you done humiliating her, Kris?” Camille asked.

“This is so fun!” Kristen giggled.

“All right,” Camille said, back in charge. “Today will be a bit the same as yesterday. Everybody has to kiss Pussy Slave.”

“However,” Kristen added, “there is one new twist. Everybody is allowed to make a request of Pussy Slave before they kiss her. She must comply with your request.”

It was Camille’s turn to continue. “Those of you who have been to our cheerleader parties know this already, but I want to state here and now that we have one hard and fast rule when we play these kind of games. During this weekend, at no time will anybody be ordered to fuck anybody else. Hugging, kissing, even touching is allowed, within reason, and anything further is upon mutual agreement. Since we have couples here, agreement must pertain to both members of a couple.”

Camille looked from one couple to another. “If Kristen wants to do Toby, then not only do the two of them have to agree, but Jim and Patty also have to agree. The easiest way is to do it mutually; if Kristen and Toby want to do something, let Patty and Jim do it as well.”

The couples started nodding.

“Nobody should feel forced to do anything uncomfortable. The most uncomfortable thing we will ask is what we asked last night: we will ask you to get naked. In addition, we will ask people to kiss others, and like last night, that also means boys kissing boys. We do this for fairness.”

There were some reactions to Camille’s announcement.

Camille smiled at everybody. “Please don’t think we’re going to turn any of you into a slave like Lynette. She is Pussy Slave because Kristen and Lynette agreed to that. Lynette and I already planned for her to be the Twelve Victim today, and we already have somebody set up for tonight. Each party will be a bit more daring, but, again, we won’t force you to do anything you really don’t want to do. Everybody will have lots of fun this way.”

There was general agreement. I love the way the cheerleaders did things, it sounded very fair and fun at the same time.

“Oh, I forgot,” Camille added. “Because everybody is in a couple except Lynette and me, consider the two of us to be a couple. Anything you ask her must be with my consent. Anything you ask her to do in the water during this Twelve Party, except to fuck her, has my consent during this party.”

Camille looked at Kristen and Kristen nodded back.

“Are you ready, Pussy Slave?” Camille called out to Lynette.

“Yes Mis…, I mean, Yes!”

A few people laughed as Lynette almost called Camille her mistress.

“Let the party begin!”

* * *

Everybody seemed to have a lot of fun. It appeared that Lynette was asked to give a few hand jobs. I saw her shake her head a few times, and I found out later on that she only refused oral sex—under water was just too difficult, but she did give the people asking her a “rain check” if they wanted her to perform at a later time in the day.

Kristen and I swam over to June and Tiny.

“I’ve never seen Lynette so pussy whipped before,” June said, shaking her head.

“It allows me to visit a side of my personality that I really can’t express with Jim,” Kristen said. “I’d hate to treat Jim like that.”

I almost choked when I heard that. Kristen most certainly did treat me like that. She had fucking handcuffs, although I was the one usually using them on her!

Tiny nodded sagely. “When she first told us, I thought it was a game. It’s not, is it?”

“No,” Kristen and I said together.

“Why would she agree to that?” June asked.

I shrugged.

“Maybe it allows Lynette to visit a side of her that she hasn’t expressed either,” Kristen explained. “If you’d like, I can invite the two of you over to my apartment when she’s ‘working.’ The ‘no fucking’ rule is off there, but it would have to be all right with both of you. I like the cheerleaders’ rules.”

June shook her head. “No. I told Jim that I want our wedding night to be our first for both of us.”

“I understand, June, but it’s a standing offer,” Kristen said. “You two are still on for two this afternoon?”

Tiny looked at June, who nodded.

June giggled and said, “Let me tell you a secret, Kris. One of the biggest orgasms Archy had was when I pretended that I was you one time. I wore my mom’s blonde wig; she bought it for some costume party a while back. I tried to imitate your voice. I went down on him, and he shot so much!”

I was starting to get used to females describing sexual relations so graphically, but Tiny looked more than a bit uncomfortable with June’s revelation.

I admit that I had fantasies of having sex with a black woman—June was even the star of some of them. I wondered if this would offend June. I decided to keep this to myself for now.

“The first time I decided that I liked Jim, he was doing another girl who invited me,” Kristen said.

“Really?” June said. “Was it Sherry?”

“Sherry?” I asked.

“The girl you brought to the initiation.”

“I know who you’re talking about,” I said. “It wasn’t her, but why did you ask?”

“Sherry moons over you, Jim. She knows you and Kris are really in love, and she likes both of you too much to do anything to interfere. Still, I’ve seen her look at you.”

“It wasn’t Sherry,” Kristen said, ending the subject.

“What was with that nerd you said was bothering the cheerleaders?” Tiny asked me.

“He found a way to force some girls to blow him,” I said. “It was sort of like blackmail or hypnosis. Anyway, he’s no longer an issue.”

“A guy who does that doesn’t stop.”

“I destroyed the tool he used. If he tries to do anything more, the girls will have an easier time saying ‘no’ and stopping it right then and there.”

“And what happens when the kid gets a gun or a knife?” Tiny asked.

I shuddered at the idea.

It also occurred to me that I was guilty of the same thing that Tim Hawking did. Was I no better than a rapist as Tiny thought?

“Sometimes, people see the error of their ways,” I said, quietly.

“Well, I gave the kid’s name to my Mama, and if school girls start coming up raped, he’ll be on the list of suspects,” Tiny said.

“That was probably a good idea,” I finally agreed.

I swam away by myself after that conversation, and thought about what Tiny said. After I had a regular relationship with Patty, and especially with Kristen, I didn’t have any interest in using the tickets or any other means of coercion with anybody. Kristen really fulfilled all my sexual needs now, and with Camille and now Lynette seeming to be part of it, I would be the stupidest person in the world to ask for anybody else.

If this weekend was any indication, there were many girls who were already willing to do me without my having to force them to do so.

I couldn’t see how I could possibly be a danger to others, but Tiny now made me unsure.

Now, of course, I could see where my reasoning was faulty. It was easy to consider rape a sexual act, and this was the way a lot of people thought about it back then during the 1970s, and perhaps some people still think that way. I know now that rape isn’t a sexual act, but an act of violence. Rape isn’t about sex, but about submitting somebody to your will.

Thinking about it now, I think that Kristen may have seen that dark side of me and took preventive measures. She told me to treat her as a slave, but I didn’t do that too often. Now, she managed to acquire one person whose job was to act as and be called Pussy Slave. I doubt that Kristen even knew about her motives consciously, but her actions could be sort of like a pressure valve, which differentiated myself from Tim Hawking. Additionally, Tim Hawking was extremely misogynistic—a word I didn’t even know at the age of sixteen—and his disdain for women was patently obvious. I can see now that Tiny was probably right about him, and although I’ve lost track of Tim over the years, the fact that his name was known to Tiny’s mother, a rape counselor at our local precinct, may have helped to catch him if he continued down the path he started.

Despite what I know now, during that party, Tiny’s observations were very disheartening to me. I hated to lump myself along with the likes of Tim Hawking, but what Tiny said reignited the old doubts I had about myself last autumn.

Patty saw me and swam over to me. She was alone and said, “What’s wrong, Jim?”

“Did I ever tell you about Tim Hawking?”

“Cammy told me about him,” Patty said. “From what she said, but didn’t say, could I assume that he had access to your tickets?”

“He had his own roll, actually.”

“Shit!” Patty said, alarmed. “That guy’s a walking time bomb!”

“I managed to get rid of his tickets. That’s not the problem.”

“I’m confused,” Patty said.

“I heard him forcing Sherry to give him head. He was nasty and called her a whore. I didn’t know it was Sherry at the time, or I would have killed him. Luckily, that didn’t happen. I was able to confront him with Tiny at a party and I got rid of his tickets.”

“Tiny knows about them?”

“No,” I said. “Tiny’s not sure how Tim worked the magic. Anyway, Tiny said that even if he didn’t have what I took from Tim, he might rape again.”

Patty nodded. My heart sank even further.

“Patty! I’m as bad as he was! I took advantage of you, Camille, Wendy, a girl named Marla, Patrice, and even my fucking sister!”

“What?” Patty said, confused.

“I just looked at my sister’s naked body,” I said. “You know about the others.”

“Marla?”

“A girl who was visiting from California,” I said.

Patty finally made the connection. “You think you’re as bad as Tim?”

I nodded, rather than answer.

Kristen swam over and joined us. “Did you have fun with Pussy Slave, Patty?”

Patty looked at me. “How did you get Lynette to agree to that, Jim?” she demanded.

“She’s had a crush on Kristen for years. She told me and she also told Kristen. Kristen knew that, and told Lynette that the only way she could get Kristen was to become this person.”

Patty looked at Kristen. “You made Lynette a slave for life?”

Kristen shook her head. “Nope. I told her to drive over to my house at any time. She’s to tell security that she’s Pussy Slave. If they let her in, then she’s that person until she leaves my house. It’s all her own free will.”

Patty laughed. “That sounds so… weird, Kris! I’m sorry, Jim. I just thought…”

“But that’s why I’m upset at myself,” I said. “Tiny said that once a rapist, always a rapist.”

“It’s not always black and white, Jim,” Patty said, soothingly.

Kristen face registered a look of shock as she made the connection between the conversation we had about Tim and how I was feeling about myself.

I shook my head.

“Jim, I just told you that he’s a walking time bomb. Something is going to eventually set him off. He should get help, but you are nothing like him!”

“How can you say that? I did the same things he did!”

“Jim, I was there,” Patty said. “The worst I ever saw you was when you almost destroyed Kristen. Before that, when you were with me, you made it feel as if we were having fun. I’d imagine it was the same with the others.”

“You said that I almost destroyed Kris, here!”

Kristen went to say something, but Patty glared at her.

“And you did,” Patty said, turning back to me. “But you fixed it. When you found out what happened, you didn’t laugh and humiliate her some more. You fixed it. You tried to make it better. You took responsibility and you did the right thing. Does that sound the same as Tim Hawking?”

“No, but…”

“Kris has forgiven you many times over,” Patty continued. “You’ve proven your love to her just as much.”

“But…”

“But nothing, Jim. Look at the women in this pool. Just about every one of them would gladly… and I mean gladly… take you aside for a quickie or maybe even want to start a long term relationship with you. Do you want to know why? I’ve been talking with them all, you know. They see you as a jock! A fucking jock, just like Tiny!”

“A jock?” I asked. I was about the least athletic person I knew.

“A jock. Maybe not in sports, but the cheerleaders have already adopted you as their friend. It wasn’t just Camille, it was Sherry. Lynette wants to be your slave! You put on two awesome concerts in the high school, a birthday party with a band that sounded as if it cost a fortune to put together, and even made Kristen’s mother sound like Bette Midler! You almost single-handedly directed the school musical and I heard people compare the music to a Broadway performance! Your name was on the program, Jim. You were the musical director. Mr. Proilet listed himself as assistant director.”

“He did?” I said. I hadn’t seen the program, since they were handing them out in the hallways while I was backstage fixing last minute disasters.

“Have you ever heard of a teacher taking second fiddle to a student? You are that fucking good. Do you notice how Mr. Proilet has attended every one of your practices this semester? He’s trying to learn from you! He’s probably the smartest teacher I know, if he’s smart enough to take free lessons from a student!”

I knew that Mr. Proilet said that he thought highly of me, but I really thought he was just pumping up my confidence. Patty’s observation put it into perspective.

“Jim, in two years, maybe even next year, you will be Prom King. You will be the big man on campus, and every girl—every heterosexual one, and probably some of the lezzies for life—will want to do anything to have your baby. Do you want to know how you’ll react to that? You won’t notice it! You’ll only have eyes for Kristen and the girls will fucking love you even more for that! When Lynette leaves for college, you’ll have every cheerleader begging to replace her as Pussy Slave, and it won’t be because they love Kristen. It will be you!”

I looked at Kristen, and saw her nodding.

Patty wasn’t finished. “Tim Hawking may be the valedictorian of your class, but when you receive your diploma when you graduate, you will get the standing ovation. He cannot hope to aspire to what you’ve already achieved. Sure, you have made mistakes. You’re a fucking human. People forgive mistakes when they feel that the person deserves it. Who hasn’t forgiven you?”

“Patrice and Marla,” I answered, softly.

“Patrice forgave you,” Kristen said.

“Sometimes, I can see a fear of me in her eyes,” I said, sadly.

Patty shook her head. “She was at both of your concerts, and I heard her yelling ‘Oogie’ just as loud as anybody else. She’s proud of you.”

“OK,” I said, not wishing to belabor the point. “Marla.”

“He writes to her,” Kristen said.

“You know about the letters?” I asked.

Kristen nodded. “I opened the first one. I didn’t know who she was, but the first words in your letter were ‘I’m sorry.’”

“Did she write back?” Patty asked.

I nodded.

“What did she say?”

“She wants to see me this summer. I told her about Kristen, but she still wants to see me.”

“Did she say, ‘I forgive you?’” Patty asked.

I nodded.

“I see that Patrice and Marla aren’t an issue.”

“Merry, then.”

Kristen winced at that one.

“I’ve talked to Merry a couple of months ago, Jim,” Patty said.

“Oh?” I said.

“She confided something to me, Jim.” Patty looked as if she were trying to decide whether to say something or not, and then seemed to make a decision. “She saw you outside her room on New Year’s Eve.”

My eyes widened. “She what?”

“Merry wanted to invite you in, but she was afraid you would think that she was a kid and reject her.”

“What happened outside her room?” Kristen asked.

“You’ll have to ask Jim.”

“I allowed Merry to kiss me at midnight, as I promised her. It was a real kiss, not a sister kiss. She asked me specifically not to treat her like a kid. Afterward, outside her room, I could hear her masturbating and she called out my name when she…” I couldn’t go any further.

Kristen smiled, and tried not to laugh.

Patty said, “Does that sound as if she were somebody who minds if you take a peek at her?”

“No,” I said.

“The people you think you have wronged have all forgiven you, Jim. You are no Tim Hawking.”

Camille swam over and Toby was with Lynette. From the movements of Lynette’s hands, it was obvious he was getting a hand job.

“What’s up, kids?” Camille asked.

“Jim is having an attack of conscience,” Patty said. “I was trying to tell him that everybody he thinks he has wronged has forgiven him.”

“And Patty is right,” Kristen added.

“Jim, you’re the only one that hasn’t asked anything from the Pussy Slave, and the hour is almost up.”

“How much more time?” I asked.

Camille said, “No clock, but I’d say about five minutes. From your workout last night, I’d say you will have a problem if you want to reach… completion… quickly.”

Kristen and Patty laughed, but the laughter quieted when they looked at me.

“I’ll visit her when Toby leaves.”

“Toby?” Patty said. She turned to look where Lynette and Toby were. She broke out in laughter again. “It’s been his fantasy, you know. A hand job from a naked cheerleader! This is classic!”

I finally found something to laugh at, and I found that Patty’s pep talk actually made me feel better.

Everybody really forgave me. Why couldn’t I see that? Maybe there was something deep inside me that wanted to feel guilty. I don’t know, but I realized that Patty was right, even if I’m not really a “jock.”

Toby swam away from Lynette, and I started swimming over to her.

“Hello, Lynette!” I said.

“The name is Pussy Slave, Mr. Big,” Lynette answered.

I laughed at Kristen’s name for me. I turned around and called Kristen over.

“Lynette, you told me that you have a crush on Kristen. Is that the truth?”

“Yes, Mr. Big.”

“Do you love her, I mean, really love her?”

Lynette paused for a few moments. Kristen reached us, but she hadn’t heard the question. Lynette stared at Kristen and finally nodded.

“Thank you, Pussy Slave,” I said, reverting to that name in front of Kristen.

“Do you have a request for me, Mr. Big?”

“Yes, Lynette. I want you to love Kristen. I want you to love her with all your heart. I want you to make her feel loved. You do that, and you’ve fulfilled my request for the party.”

I swam away, leaving two completely stunned blondes in my wake.

I hoped Kristen liked my present.

Chapter 21—Senior Weekend III

The autumn wind, and the winter wind,

Have come and gone.

And still the days, those lonely days,

Go on and on.

And guess who sighs his lullabies,

Through nights that never end?

My fickle friend, the summer wind!

Frank Sinatra

Summer Wind

Kristen found me after the party. “Why did you do that?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“Tell Lynette to love me.”

“You mean, ‘Pussy Slave,’” I pointed out.

“Jim, you told her to love me.”

“She already told me that she loved you. If she really loves you, then her party request is fulfilled.”

“Why did you do that?” Kristen repeated.

I sighed. “Kris, I love you, Will loves you, Cammy loves you, and now Lynette loves you. I have absolutely no jealousy over any of them. I will feel no jealousy when we’re with Tiny and June later. Do you want to know why? Because I love you, that’s why. I love you, and I love you completely, and I love you utterly.”

Kristen looked shocked.

“Kris, what I want is a world in which everybody can see you for the Goddess you are. A living, breathing, walking, fucking Goddess.”

“I’m not really a Goddess,” Kristen said, softly.

“I say you are,” I answered. “I will prove it one day. Until then, you’ll have to trust me. You’ve told me many times that you trust me, so be true to your word.”

“But…”

“I just listened to Patty tell me for fifteen minutes that I was a jock and that all the girls are dying to get into my bed,” I said. “I would like you to at least allow me to call you my Goddess.”

“But…”

“But, nothing, darling.” I put my finger on her lips, quieting her. “You are my Goddess, and you will be loved as such. Will, Cammy, Lynette, and I all see it. I will be creating your congregation one by one. If I can convert Tiny and June over, I will. If not, I’ll find others who are willing. Patty said that next year, I’ll have any cheerleader offer to take Lynette’s place.”

Kristen shook her head. She had a slightly frightened look on her face.

It was time to take charge. “Say, ‘yes, Master.’”

Kristen looked at me, and said it, softly.

I smiled at my Goddess.

“You scare me,” Kristen said, softly, hugging me.

* * *

At two o’clock, Tiny and June met us in the master bedroom.

“Hey, Tiny! Hey, June!” I said, cheerily.

June said, softly, “Excuse me, Jim?”

“Huh?”

“Please, Jim,” June said. “If you want to be close to Archy and me, please use Archy’s name.”

“I’m sorry… Hey, Archy!”

Archy grinned. “June hates the name Tiny.”

“You’re not to use it at all, Archy!” June said, but she was smiling as she said it.

“I’m sorry, June,” I repeated. “I only knew him by that nickname.”

June nodded. “His parents even call him that! There are only three people that can call him anything else. Cammy and Lynette call him TB, and I call him my ‘Teddy Bear.’ From now on, Kristen, you can call him TB as well.”

We all laughed at that.

“How do we do this?” June asked. She sounded nervous.

“Are you really up to this, June?” I asked. “This isn’t mandatory, you know.”

“I really do, but… except for a little cuddling, Archy has been the only guy I’ve been close to.”

“So, why don’t we just cuddle? I think you look very cuddly,” I said.

June looked sweet as she blushed.

Kristen suggested. “How about this, June? Let’s take turns taking off bathing suits. First the girls’ tops, then the guys’ suits, and then the girls’ bottoms.”

June nodded.

Kristen started by taking off her top. June followed suit, eying me nervously as she did so. I went next, untying my bathing suit to reveal my erection. June and Kristen’s toplessness started breathing life into it. Tiny was next, as he slowly pulled down his bathing suit.

To say that Archy was large was an understatement. Actually, he wasn’t really longer than I was, but he was much thicker.

Kristen actually whistled. “If Jim owned one of those, I think I’d wait a while before I let him split me in half with it!”

Kristen’s remark had the effect of breaking the ice. June and Archy both laughed.

Kristen was next and pulled down her bottoms. June did so afterward.

“Archy?” I asked.

“Yes, Jim?”

“I know you are a wonderful guy. Please take care of my Goddess and I’ll treat June like a fragile piece of glass.”

“That sounds fair to me,” Archy answered.

Kristen moved over to Archy and reached up to kiss him. Her body pressed against his groin and Archy bent down and kissed her.

I took my cue from Kristen and took June into my arms. It wasn’t the first kiss I had with her while the two of us were naked, but the fact that we were alone in the master bedroom made it much more intimate.

June’s mouth tasted as though she recently brushed her teeth. I held her tight against me and I felt my very hard erection push against her belly.

Kristen led Tiny to the bed, and I saw that she put Tiny on one side with her in the middle. This made it easy to bring June in the same way, so that I’d be laying between the two girls.

June whispered to me, “Jim? I feel funny being on the same bed with Archy and Kristen. Could we go somewhere else?”

“Certainly,” I said. “Would you like to use your own room, or would you feel weird with that? I could use Camille’s room, or would you prefer to stay here and maybe put a quilt onto the floor?”

“Camille’s room. Making out on the floor sounds so… cheap.”

“Sure thing, June.”

I whispered our intentions to Kristen who nodded without breaking her kiss with Archy.

I found a towel for June, but she simply picked up her bathing suit and walked out of the room, naked.

Nobody spotted us going into Camille’s room, but then again, everybody already saw everybody else naked. When we got into the room, June pulled me onto the bed.

“Jim?” June whispered.

“Yes?”

“This feels so… naughty! I’ve never made it with a guy like you before. Actually, Archy is the only one I’ve done it with, but I’ve always thought it so… naughty… to be, like, with someone like you…”

“Yeah,” I sighed. “People always fantasize making out with musicians. I fantasize about cheerleaders, so I guess we’re even!”

June playfully punched me. “I mean the black and white thing, Jim!”

“I know what you meant, June. I’ve wondered about black girls, too. I’ve always known you as a cheerleader, though. Most girls think of me as a band nerd, so I’m kind of used to labels.”

June looked at me. “It’s funny. The same girls who wouldn’t think of sleeping with a guy in a school band, will line up at the back stage door waiting to sleep with rock singers!”

I nodded and laughed. “I guess we’re late bloomers.” I stuck my right index finger into June’s mouth, surprising her. She sucked it in. I pulled it out and then traced it around the chocolate circle that surrounded her nipple. I saw her shiver in response; I was doing all right.

“How far do you want to go?” I asked. “I don’t want to cross any boundaries that would make you uncomfortable.”

“I intend to cuddle you until I get warmed up. I expect you to do more than just diddle my nipple, Jim. Then I will expect you to move down between my legs, and rub me with your fingers. After that, I will take your white dick into my black mouth…”

“Pink mouth,” I corrected.

“Whatever. I’m going to take that white dick, and I’ll show you what deep throat means. I will continue until you are satisfied, and then we’ll come up with something else. Does that meet with your approval?”

“Is there anything you wish me to avoid?”

“I’m a virgin, and I want to remain one. However, I told Archy that he can do anything with Kristen that he does with me, and I’m going to give you that same permission.”

I smiled at the cute black cheerleader. I now had both of my hands on her breasts, and was rubbing her the way that my partners showed me they liked. Too bad we were in bed. A shower with a bar of soap would have been interesting…

“All right. Is there anything that I might have left out?” June asked.

“Yes,” I said. “A couple of things.”

“Really?”

“First, each time I have an orgasm, if you swallow it, I want a long kiss afterward.”

June looked surprised at that. “Archy doesn’t…”

“I’m not Archy. That doesn’t turn you off, does it?”

“Do you really like that?”

“Kristen and others have taught me the pleasure. I don’t want you hogging it all!”

“You said there were a couple of things,” June said.

“Let’s just do what comes naturally,” I said. I found that once things got started, the rest would just work out.

June laughed. “I need to warn you. I know it’s not too common, but when I get really excited… I… get wet.”

That wasn’t unusual. “All girls get wet.”

June said, “I squirt!”

“Ooh. Will you let me taste it?”

“You nasty white boy!” June laughed.

I was still rubbing one of June’s breasts, and my other hand moved slowly down her body. I parted her lower lips and found that she was already wet. I think the talking really turned her on.

“Do you like talking dirty?” I whispered.

“When I get excited, I say… nasty words…”

“Do you know you have the darkest nipples that I’ve ever seen? They’re even darker than Kristen’s. Your breasts are really pointy, and you seem to shave your pussy, but not entirely…”

“Oh, Jim!” June breathed.

June’s eyes were closed and her lips were puckered into an “ooh” as her hand found my member and was gauging its size. I knew from Camille’s remarks that I wasn’t small in the dick department, but I would imagine that compared to Archy, June might have been disappointed.

I moved my finger up and down June’s slit. I discovered her cunt hole and found what I thought was June’s clitoris. I avoided both after making the discovery.

Since June seemed to enjoy me talking, I decided to give her some more verbal stimulation. “Last night, Kristen had Lynette’s face to the shower wall. Kris was on her knees, lapping Lynette’s cunt as if she were a happy little puppy. Then the two switched places, and Camille masturbated me until I shot my load all over Lynette’s face, and then Kristen licked her face clean. After that, the two girls kissed…”

“Ooh…” June was getting very turned on hearing about our exploits the previous night.

I spread June’s cunt lips apart with my index and ring fingers and moved my middle finger in between.

June moved closer to me and we were kissing again. June’s tongue was probing into mine, and her hands started a gentle stroking action.

Our kiss was long and lingering. June moaned softly and she seemed to like it when I gently squeezed her breast. When I finally grazed her clitoris, I heard June’s breath catch, indicating that my mental map of her pussy was on track.

I felt June move her crotch in order to make my finger graze over that spot again, but I moved my hand with her motions. I moved further and then gently pushed into her actual cunt.

“Ooh,” June breathed.

June started to caress my head with one hand in a movement that was universal to all the women I have ever taken to bed. She wanted me to move down.

I broke our kiss, and planted little kisses on her chin, moving down over her neck and shoulders. My finger, which was still rubbing between her legs, was finding the going more and more slick as June’s excitement heightened.

When I finally reached June’s breasts, I gave them scores of tiny kisses, working my way in a spiral until I just touched the chocolate ring surrounding her nipple. Instead of going further, however, I moved over to the other breast and repeated my action there. June tried to move my head back to the other nipple, but I was patient.

“Archy…” June said, surprising me, as if she were calling her lover’s name. “takes… a long…” June sighed as I continued assaulting her right breast. “time… to… have an… orgasm…”

I chuckled to myself as June was telling me about Archy. I decided to give June the payoff she desired, and finally allowed my lips and tongue to enter June’s ring of desire surrounding her right nipple.

“Ooh,” June repeated. “I’m your filthy whore!” June cried.

I continued licking and sucking on June’s nipple.

“I’m your cum slut. I’m your pussy slave, Jim!”

I switched to the other nipple. My hand was finding June’s wetness getting past saturation. Her fluids were flowing freely.

“I’m going to suck you dry!” June said, her excitement building.

June words were very sexy and amusing to me.

I gave June’s left nipple a final lick, and then kissed the right one good-bye as I started to continue my downward descent.

June tried to push my head downward faster, but I wasn’t having any of it. It took a minute to reach her belly button, an erogenous zone that I knew a few women enjoyed. I found myself lucky. June stopped pushing and started to keep my head in place. I licked her belly button and kissed it, sucking at it.

“I’m… I’m… I’m…”

June sounded like a broken record. I gave another farewell kiss to her belly button, and started my examination of the dark, virgin forest of her pussy hairs.

A couple of hairs ended up in my mouth—a common occurrence—but I continued kissing and licking my way down and inhaled my first close-up scent of Eau de la June.

“Lovely,” I said, savoring her aroma.

“Please… I’ll be Kristen’s pussy slave!”

I decided that the wait was worth it. I was amazed at how the pink of June’s pussy accented the chocolate darkness of her skin. I took my first lick… and found myself the recipient of a stream of liquid that I figured was the start of June’s orgasm, which her loud vocal cries confirmed.

I allowed the stream—it wasn’t long—to catch into my tongue, which was curled in order to collect it.

“Fuck me!” June cried. I knew that this wasn’t a request, but an impassioned cry.

I moved my face off June’s crotch, and surprised her in mid-orgasm as I kissed her, sharing the liquid that she squirted into my mouth.

“Oomth…” June said, her voice muffled by my kiss.

“Oomth…” I agreed.

I moved back and finished the job that I started.

“You… you did that…”

I pulled away from June’s crotch. “Are you angry?” I asked.

“You are such a nasty boy!” June sighed.

That was interesting. I went from “nasty white boy” to simply a “nasty boy.” I moved back to June’s crotch, and moved my tongue into her virgin hole. I didn’t know how deep a virgin cunt was, but I imagined it would allow at least the inch or two of tongue that I could insert into her, and found myself not hitting any obstruction.

I then moved out of her hole, and licked up and finally grazed her clitoris with the tip of my tongue.

“I’m your fucking cunt whore!” June cried, once again approaching her ecstasy.

I decided it was time to lay it on thick, so I puckered up my lips and sucked her clitoris from its hiding place.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Lick me, Oogie!”

I pushed my tongue between my lips, and licked a little circle around her nub.

“Shit! Shit!”

June was very vocal when she was excited, I decided.

June’s grip on my hair was starting to hurt, but I continued to bathe her clit until I felt the squirting start again.

“Fuck me, baby! Oh, Oogie… Fuck! Fuck!”

I didn’t let up.

“Aaaaahhhhn…”

More licking… an occasional suck…

“Eeeeeeeee…”

The squirting stopped, but June’s orgasm continued. Her legs were wrapped between my shoulders, pulling me closer.

“Eeeeeeeee…”

I rubbed my tongue even harder…

“Eeeeeeeee…”

June was so cute when she came…

“Eee-nough!”

Oh, my! I pulled my tongue back into my mouth.

Despite her request that I stop, June’s hands continued to press my face into her crotch. Her crotch, in turn, continued to grind against my lips. She wasn’t being easy on herself.

“Aaaaaaahhhhh…”

Luckily, I could still breathe through my nose, and June’s arousal was intoxicating.

June’s hands loosened their grip, finally.

“I’m your fucking cunt whore pussy slave!” June said.

Finally, I was released.

I went back up and kissed June, again surprising her.

June sucked at my tongue greedily. I felt her suction pull it very far into her mouth.

At the same time, June’s hands found my organ, which was quite hard, and happy to shake hands with June once again. June took me in both hands, which was unnecessary with my organ, but was something that June probably learned from her experiences with Archy.

June’s hands were moving back and forth, rolling my dick between them. At the same time, they were moving up and down my shaft, at first going a bit too far, but quickly finding the right depth.

We broke the kiss, and June said, “Wow! You really did that. You kissed me after I…”

“You’ve never tasted your own excitement?” I asked, surprised.

June shook her head, but then meekly said, “Sometimes, when I… play with myself… I sometimes lick my finger afterward.”

“Archy has been hogging this wonderful feast for himself! How greedy is that?”

June giggled and started moving her head down my body until her lips reached my cock.

I have received blow jobs from a few girls. My favorite, of course, is Kristen. Kristen used a technique that didn’t require the use of her hands and she also took me deep. The only other girl that took me deep was Camille.

June, on the other hand, was much different. She used her hands, but only as foreplay. She used a twisting motion with two hands, and her lips followed her thumbs as they went up and down.

Suddenly, the hands moved away, and June impaled her throat onto my cock.

Kristen and Camille took me deep. June, on the other hand, took me DEEP.

After that quick impalement, June actually had her lips rubbing my ball sac… and she seemed to be able to go even deeper!

“Oof!” I grunted, shocked at June’s oral technique.

June slowly moved her head up until she was completely off my cock. “You like, little boy?” June said, a wicked gleam in her eye.

“Oogie like!” I said, trying to sound like the Hulk. “Oogie want more. Oogie like June!”

June giggled and without using her hands this time, returned to where her lips were caressing my balls.

The back of June’s throat was massaging the head of my cock. After about thirty seconds, June lifted her head off my cock again. “That’s just a taste!” June said.

“Oogie June’s slave for life!” I said.

Instead of deep throating me again, June simply started to lick the head of my cock. She knew exactly where my dick was the most sensitive, and teased and tantalized me at every opportunity.

I looked down and saw June kneeling between my legs, licking up and down my shaft. She saw me looking, and blew me a kiss.

June positioned her head on my cock and locked her eyes onto mine. She then lowered her head, millimeter by agonizing millimeter, her tongue flicking the little bit that she had in her mouth and my body was going crazy. I tried to push upward, but June seemed to have expected this and moved with me, agonizingly, just as I did with her earlier.

After what seemed an eternity, she had a few inches of me in her mouth and her tongue was dancing lively on the shaft.

Still June moved downward, never stopping, always plodding onward.

I’m not sure how long it took, but eventually, June had me very deep. I felt something on my balls, and I realized that it was June’s tongue. She took me completely and still managed to move her tongue out to bathe my balls!

Once again, June moved upward, but instead of coming off my cock again, she started moving back down. She started a new rhythm, quickly up and down my cock, not particularly deep but definitely in her throat.

June’s tongue was talented, and she continued moving up and down my cock.

“June?” I called out.

June didn’t answer, not wanting to break her rhythm.

“Please, June?” I repeated.

June pulled off my cock. “Yes?”

“Move into a sixty-nine position,” I requested. “I don’t think my heart can possibly withstand you doing this more than once to me!”

June laughed. “Your poor heart? You sound like Archy, you baby!”

“I though you were my pussy slave!”

“Ooh,” June said, reminded of her declaration. Of course, I would never hold June to that.

June repositioned herself so she was on top of me, and I started licking her.

“Comfortable?” June asked.

Instead of answering, which was difficult, I nodded, knowing she’d feel the movement.

June lowered her mouth back onto my cock, and restarted her quick up and down motion.

I tried to take my mind off June’s actions and consulted my mental map of June’s pussy. I made a tentative jab at what I remembered to be her clitoral hood, and her shudder told me that I was oriented correctly. I started to lick between her pussy lips, up and down, and once again avoided her clit.

It wasn’t easy ignoring what June was doing, because she was fucking talented. People sometimes describe me as a music virtuoso. I disagreed with them on that, but June was definitely a blow job virtuoso. She was to blow jobs what Picasso was to oil paints. She knew how to work her canvas and how to elicit the exact sensations that she desired to get.

I decided to try something with June that I knew Kristen liked. I moved my tongue so it was just touching her clit and then I stopped all movement completely.

June didn’t react immediately, but then I felt her hips press down, trying to move her crotch so her clit would move against my tongue. I continued to keep my tongue stiff and unmoving, allowing June to generate her own pace. This wasn’t easy for me, as it required me to keep my tongue out of my mouth and stiff for a while, but I knew Kristen loved it and I hoped June would enjoy it as well.

June continued to grind her hips to get the desired feeling. I could feel my dick thoroughly enjoying June’s oral attentions and when I started getting a bit extra excited, I suddenly flicked my tongue.

“Oomph!” June said as her crotch convulsed in surprise. She definitely hadn’t expected that. June’s mouth actually descended very deep once again, as my dirty trick threw her off her rhythm.

June, however, was the blow job maestro, and wasn’t off her game for long. I started to move my tongue around and around her clit, never quite touching it. June started moving her crotch again, but I was quite familiar with all the tricks girls would do in order to get me to touch that one special place.

Soon, June got me near my limit again. I decided that we were in the end game, and I gave June what her crotch demanded for so long. I licked, sucked, and teased her clitoris. At the same time, June did something similar on her end, and was once again very deep. Her tongue was once again licking my balls, and just as I started to spasm, I felt the same coming from her crotch.

June was now taking me shallow, allowing me to pump into her mouth. She adjusted her suction expertly in time with my spurts, working with my cock to achieve a very powerful orgasm.

At the same time, June was moaning as her own orgasm washed over her. Her crotch was grinding into my face and I continued teasing her clit again and again, trying to extend her orgasm for as long as it could possibly last. My face was soaked as she squirted her arousal.

My orgasm finished first, of course. I continued to lick June’s slit, and added an index finger to probe into her hole very gently.

After a few moments, June’s orgasm started to fade. I tried extra licking to see if I could get her to start up again, but she moved her crotch away in another universal female communication that meant that she didn’t want that.

June moved off me, and moved over to me and kissed me. My semen was still in her mouth, and June seemed genuinely surprised as I accepted it from her mouth.

Once her mouth was clean, June started to lap at my face, licking her fluids, apparently having decided that she liked the taste, or perhaps just the “nastiness” of doing so.

The two of us cuddled together, both of us totally spent.

“You really like that?” June said.

“As I said, Kristen and others taught me to like it.”

“I think that Archy might think it would make him seem… well… you know…”

I shrugged. “If it’s good enough for you to take in your mouth, then it should be good enough for me. It’s not as if it will make me pregnant, but I will have to tell you that I can’t lick you any more.”

“I’m on the pill,” June said.

“Oh?”

“I’m a virgin, but I’m not stupid. One slip and then, good bye to the life I want. Too many girls like me get pregnant too early. Not me, mother fucker!”

I laughed. “You are a very smart and wonderful woman, June. I actually envy Archy, although I would never trade anybody for Kristen.”

“You are talented as well. Archy never… well… he’s not that… you know…”

From the way June was talking, it was clear that she didn’t think Archy was as talented as I was. “Um, thank you, June, I think.”

“You were… fantastic! I actually saw stars during that last one!”

“You are quite talented yourself, June.”

“Maybe you could teach Archy…”

I shook my head. “The best way to destroy a friendship is to insinuate to a guy that you can teach him how to satisfy a woman. Such things are personal, June, and guys just don’t go there. What would you think if Archy asked Kristen to teach you how to give a blow job?”

“Oh,” June said, disappointed.

“I didn’t say I couldn’t help, though.”

“Oh?”

“Camille and Lynette are here this weekend. Both of them are very talented, with boys and with girls. Neither one has your oral talents, but they can easily teach Archy the basics of loving a girl. They may even get off on helping him!”

June looked at me as if I was crazy, but then realized that I came up with a great solution. “You know, it’s crazy, but it might work!”

“I was thinking of asking the same from you, you know.”

“Huh?”

“Kristen never took me that deep before.”

“Oh,” June looked thoughtful.

“However, I don’t want you to teach her anything. I want to have memories that I can associate only with you. There will be your face, your breasts with the chocolate kisses with light pink tips, your wonderful pussy, and the deepest blow job of my life.”

June laughed. “You are a real romantic, Jim. I can see why Kristen has that look in her eyes whenever she thinks you’re not looking.”

“Huh?”

“Kristen has this look that everybody calls her ‘puppy dog look’ when she thinks about you. She’s got it bad for you, even more than Sherry. You know, when the two of you first started going together, people were gossiping. They said you were blackmailing her. Some even said that you were paying her, which doesn’t make any sense at all, since she has so much money. They said all sorts of weird things. Then the other stories started. You set up a recording session just for her. She was no longer the ice queen with a group of bitches surrounding her. She became human, and it was obvious that she’s in love with you.”

“I used to think bad things about Kristen, too,” I admitted.

“That girl is head over heels in love with you—much more so than Sherry Jordan. This weekend was a shock to me, when she didn’t mind you kissing Camille when she was nude… she even joined in. She didn’t mind you kissing all the girls in the hot tub last night. She’s a much different person than anybody suspected. She’s a warm, loving, compassionate person who loves one of the most strange and wonderful boys in school.”

“I’m not the most…”

“Humble, too,” June continued. “You barely knew Archy, but you had no hesitation asking for help when a few of the cheerleaders were attacked. I’m still not sure what happened, as the girls are quite embarrassed and refuse to say, but all of them say that the two of you fixed the situation. Everybody has an ‘Oogie Story,’ Jim. I do, too! You asked Archy into the jazz band, and when you found he couldn’t read music, you didn’t throw him out. You helped him. Cammy told me that you were supposed to go somewhere that weekend, but you changed your plans immediately just like that.” June snapped her fingers to emphasize her point. “Do you know, if anybody says anything negative about you, Archy would probably rip the guy’s arms off?”

I shuddered at the image that June was painting.

“Just like you won’t give up Kristen, I won’t give up Archy,” June said. “Still, I think that this afternoon is a special memory for me. My next ‘Oogie Story,’ about how I had multiple orgasms for the first time in my life, while Archy made love with the one girl that you love more than anybody else in the world. The two of you are so giving of love, affection, sex… you name it!”

“I’m not that good, June. I’m just a regular guy.”

“A regular guy that can turn a commercial jingle into an improvisational jazz piece? A regular guy that has scores of girls in the school scheming about how to get you to maybe kiss them?”

I shook my head. “I know that Patty…”

“A regular guy that, in tenth grade, is still the most popular guy in the school?”

I sighed. This Jim Crittenhouse fan club was starting to get out of hand. It was one thing hearing this from Patty, who may have been a bit biased. I just didn’t believe June. “No, June…”

“A regular guy that is the only person in the whole fucking world that could possibly have had me give up my virginity before I married?”

It took a couple of moments for June’s words to sink in. This one was a shocker! “Huh?”

“I talked with Archy before we went to your room, Jim,” June said, her eyes quite serious. “I told him that I really wanted you, and that I was seriously considering offering you my virginity if you wanted it.”

“What? That’s impossible!”

“No, Jim,” June said, shaking her head. “I told Archy that if you wanted it, I’d give it to you willingly. I’d be so proud, in fact, to have you be the first and only person to take that from me. Instead, I told you what Archy really wanted, not what I wanted. You didn’t ask for anything from me, Jim. Nothing at all, except for me to share your… your sperm with you.”

I laughed. “I would never take anything that isn’t offered, June.”

“I hoped that, Jim, but I also secretly wanted you to ask me for it. I wouldn’t mind if you demand it now that you know that I truly, truly want it. Archy would never blame you or me if it happened. He’d pretend it didn’t happen, and he would never mention it again. He likes you that much.”

“I don’t want your virginity, June,” I said. “You have me on this fucking pedestal that I may never be able to get off. You told me that you always planned that you’d give your virginity away on your wedding day, and my wedding will be to Kristen only.”

June nodded. “Even when you reject me, I don’t feel rejected.”

I sighed. What would I have to do to make people think that I’m really a regular guy?

“Jim? You made some requests of me, and I’m willing to accept them. Can I make one request?”

“Anything other than your virginity, June.”

“Can we masturbate together?”

“Huh?”

“I’d like to watch you do it while I do it to myself,” June said, grinning wickedly. “Archy is too shy to do that, but I have a feeling that you wouldn’t mind.”

I didn’t have a problem with that, so I just shrugged.

“When we masturbate… when you do it, could you do me a favor?”

“What?” I asked, curious.

June blushed. She was quite beautiful to begin with, but her blush made her absolutely radiant. “When you shoot off, could you do it so it lands between my legs?”

“Huh?”

“I’ll masturbate afterward, and yell out so that everybody that is anywhere on the property will hear me. I will yell out, ‘FUCK ME!’ as loud as I can, and then I will walk out of this room with your fresh cum between my legs. Everybody will think whatever they want, and almost everybody knows that I’m a virgin.”

“Why?”

“There are two reasons, Jim. First, I want people to think I’ve been fucked, even Archy. Second, I want to see the expression on Archy’s face on our wedding night when he finds out that his assumption was wrong!”

I laughed. “That could be dangerous, June.”

“Why?” June asked.

“What if Archy takes offense?”

“He gave me his permission, Jim.”

“He’s human. I know how much he loves you. If he thinks I took something from him, then he might be angry, and not just at me.”

June laughed. “I know Archy better than you do. He will truly pretend it didn’t happen, even with the incriminating evidence in front of him.”

“Are you willing to gamble that on such a silly thing?” I asked.

“You seem to resent that people think that you are as wonderful as you really are. What would people think if they believe that you deflowered me with Archy around?”

Hmm. They would think that I was less of a perfect person…

“It will also give me yet another ‘Oogie Story.’”

I laughed. I wasn’t comfortable with these “Oogie Stories” but June had a great idea.

* * *

I tried to do my best, I really tried. However, there was a mental image of Archy, Kristen, Camille, and Patty shaking their head in disappointment in me, and I found myself getting soft.

“Oh, fuck,” June said, disappointed.

“I’m sorry,” I said, sheepishly.

June moved between my legs and took my limp member into her mouth. It didn’t take long for my organ to remember June the blow job maestro and it quickly got hard.

“June?” I called out.

“Yes?” June answered.

“Over the next year, before you graduate, I’d like to make another request of you.”

“What, Jim?”

“Can you pay me a visit and do what you do so wonderfully? I don’t want it on a regular basis, but as something special. I don’t think I could ever face the idea of never having one of your wonderful blow jobs ever again.”

“Jim, you could ask me to do it on stage during the high school commencement, and I’d drop to my knees right then and there.”

I shook my head.

Despite June’s oral talents, I just didn’t have that much to shoot between her legs at the right time. It was little more than a dribble. Between Kristen, Camille, and now June, I think that I reached some sort of limit.

As June wiped my dick against her legs, I heard her start to shout. “Fuck me, Oogie! FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARD! YEAH! YEAH! FUCK ME! I’M YOUR FUCKING CUM WHORE PUSSY SLAVE, OOGIE! AAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIII!”

It was a performance worthy of an Oscar.

June and I exited Camille’s bedroom. I wore my bathing suit, and June was naked, with her bathing suit in her hands.

Patty and Toby saw us exit, and Patty noticed June’s nudity and the “evidence” of our indiscretion. She also noticed that Kristen and Archy were nowhere to be found. June walked over the Patty and Toby and said, “Hello, Jim told me to introduce myself to you. Because he agreed to fuck me, I’m his Pussy Slave, and you are to call me only by that name for the weekend. You can see his sperm between my legs. I’m not allowed to wear clothes until we leave.”

Fuck! June was going out of her way in her little scheme.

June knocked on the door to the master bedroom and entered it, alone.

It just occurred to me that June was going to repeat her little speech to everybody. June assured me that Archy wouldn’t mind, but I hadn’t considered Kristen’s reaction!

“You fucked her?” Patty asked, completely surprised.

I shrugged. I did promise not to spoil June’s game.

The two shook their heads in surprise and walked away.

June came back out the bedroom door.

Neither Kristen nor Archy came out with her.

June moved over to me and kissed me. “Thank you, Master!”

Apparently, June hadn’t heard Lynette’s “proper” name for me. I didn’t really feel like “Mr. Big” right now. I felt like “Mr. Asshole.”

June noticed Wendy and Gerry and went over to them to make her announcement.

Wendy’s reaction was interesting. She walked over to me and said, “Ooh, Oogie! Can I be your Pussy Slave, too?”

The big smile and the laughter in Wendy’s eyes told me that she was just kidding.

Kristen came out of the master bedroom. She was nude. “Can I see you, Jim?”

This was my moment of truth. I nodded and went into the master bedroom.

Kristen shut the door behind me and demanded, “What’s June’s game?”

I pretended innocence. “What game?”

“June said you fucked her. I just convinced Archy that you didn’t.”

“Huh?”

“Tell June that when a virgin gets fucked, most of the time, there’s blood.”

I laughed. Archy noticed this and realized that I just confirmed Kristen’s observation. “Can the two of you keep a secret?”

Kristen and Archy nodded.

“Do you remember what Patty was telling me in the pool?”

Kristen nodded, but Archy was confused. Kristen filled him in.

“Patty told me that people tell ‘Oogie Stories,’” I said. “June told me the same thing, and then she admitted that Archy gave her permission to lose her virginity.”

Archy nodded his head slowly. There wasn’t any anger in Archy’s eyes, I noticed.

I continued. “June’s idea was to let people see she was fucked, and to surprise Archy on her wedding night. She said that if Archy thought that I fucked her, Archy would simply pretend that it didn’t happen. She also said it would give me a bit of nastiness that would keep people from thinking that I’m Mr. Perfect.”

It took a few moments, and then both Archy and Kristen laughed.

“You know, Jim, we now have our own ‘Oogie Story!’” Archy said. “I’ll have to wait until my wedding night to tell June. I think that I’ll write it in a letter and have her read it the next morning.”

I smiled.

“You’re also going to have to follow through on this,” Archy said. “I know June, and if you don’t treat her as Pussy Slave, she’s going to get more and more outrageous.”

I think my face must have registered my shock.

Archy laughed, while Kristen was confused.

Archy turned to my Goddess and said, “Jim just realized something that I was dreading this weekend. He’s thinking of what it will be like to have two of June’s blow jobs in two days.”

I nodded, and said, without thinking. “I’ve already received two today.”

“What?” Archy said, completely surprised.

I repeated myself, still dreading what Hurricane June could do to a young person like me.

Archy shook his head. “Now I have another ‘Oogie Story!’ I don’t think I could take two in two days, let alone two in ninety minutes!”

I dumbly nodded my head, realizing what I let myself in for.

Chapter 22—Senior Weekend IV

If the sky above you,

Grows dark and full of clouds,

And that old north wind begins to blow.

Keep your head together,

And call my name out loud.

Soon you’ll hear me knocking at your door!

James Taylor/Carole King

You’ve Got A Friend

Camille found me later and told me she realized, as Kristen did, that June’s announcement was an exaggeration. She also knew the reason why, which surprised me. Camille was truly a smart person.

Patty wouldn’t look me in the eye, and when I tried to approach her, she would move away. She seemed to be truly disappointed in me.

Despite the fact that I knew Patty was mistaken, her reaction still hurt me very much. I hated having anybody be disappointed in me, and Patty was… well, she was special.

About an hour before we were going to start dinner, Patty found me. “Jim? Can we talk alone?”

I nodded. “Where?”

Patty looked around. “I guess here is just as good as anywhere. I just realized you aren’t sorry! You’re disappointed, and not in yourself, but in me.”

“Huh?”

“June is proud, but when you saw that I was angry, I thought you’d feel sorry, just as you did in the pool,” Patty said. “I just realized that you weren’t sorry at all. You were disappointed, and now I realize that you’re disappointed in me. Why is that?”

“I don’t know, Patty,” I said, remembering my promise not to spoil June’s announcement. “Why don’t you read my mind and tell me? You know how I feel, tell me why I feel this way.”

Patty looked at me strangely. “I can not read your mind, Jim. I just know how you feel. You feel disappointment, and I can’t figure out why.”

“Why would I be disappointed in you, Patty?” I asked.

Patty tried to work it out. “I was angry at you for taking June’s virginity. You are disappointed in me for being angry. Why is that?”

“What if I told you that Archy gave his permission?”

Patty nodded. “I assumed it, because I know that Tiny and Kristen were in the master bedroom and she told them. You walked out, and the fact that you still have your balls, which I’m just assuming, by the way, means that Tiny isn’t angry. Another puzzle.”

I shrugged.

“I’m angry; you’re disappointed. Kristen isn’t jealous, but she hasn’t been jealous at all during this weekend, so she may have expected it. June would definitely give it to you. Tiny loves you as a brother, and gives his permission. There’s something wrong with these facts.”

Patty saw Camille coming out of the water. Camille smiled at me.

“Hmm… Camille knows, and she would be even angrier, since Lynette and she are very protective of all the cheerleaders. They aren’t angry!” Patty said, continuing to work the puzzle.

There was a few minutes’ pause, and then, “Oh! I understand now. I’m truly sorry, Jim!”

“Huh?”

“Your secret is safe with me, Jim,” Patty said, smiling.

“What secret?”

“You want people to think you’re a scoundrel so they don’t think you’re some sort of God!”

I laughed. Patty definitely had a way of looking into your soul. She just seemed to get confused when she was intentionally misled, as was the case with June.

“I should be angry at June, but I don’t think I can do that. Is she the new Pussy Slave?” Patty asked.

“That was her idea, Patty. Now, I am thinking that I might regret that.”

Patty laughed. “Old truism, Jim: be careful what you wish for. I would think that you would have learned that by now.”

I laughed with Patty. I was very glad Patty was no longer disappointed in me. I don’t know if I could have lived with myself if she was.

Still, there was something a bit scary about Patty.

“What’s scaring you, Jim?” Patty asked.

See what I mean? “You, Patty. You are so attuned to my feelings, it’s fucking scary!”

Patty laughed, and I finally joined her.

* * *

Everybody started to congregate near the hot tub room about eleven thirty that night.

Kristen and I were relaxing in the hot tub, with Archy, June, Lynette, Camille, Wendy, Gerry, Jill, and Roy all lounging with us. Of course, this wasn’t exciting enough to suit Kristen’s tastes. Lynette and June were nude, as were Camille, Kristen, and I.

June moved over toward me and hugged me tightly. I hugged her back. Kristen whispered something into Lynette’s ear, and she smiled and moved over and sat on Archy’s lap. Camille and Kristen were hugging one another as well.

I looked around the hot tub and noticed Wendy and Gerry as well as Jill and Roy sitting a little bit closer together with their hands safely hidden under the water. Kristen wasn’t satisfied. She turned to me and said, “We need a way to differentiate between the two Pussy Slaves, Jim.”

I turned to June and said, “Do you have a name that we can call you other than Pussy Slave?”

June didn’t pause a moment. “Cunt Whore.”

A few of the girls’ jaws dropped as June said that. Archy actually coughed in surprise, but Lynette moved her face over to Archy’s and smothered him with kisses.

“Does that meet with your approval?” I asked Kristen.

Jackie and Steve showed up, and were astonished at the nudity around the hot tub.

Kristen said, “For your information, the Pussy Slave that we used to call June is now known as Cunt Whore by her own request.”

Again, this was met with utter shock.

Jackie and Steve entered the hot tub, and everybody positioned themselves into the tub.

I saw Roy remove Jill’s bikini top. Gerry decided to do the same for Wendy, and Steve fumbled as he undid Jackie’s bikini. It was apparent that Steve was a bit inebriated. There was a sign advising against using the hot tub while intoxicated, but Steve either didn’t see it or ignored it. I didn’t hear him slurring his words or see him exhibiting any of the signs that I learned to recognize from my father, so I ignored it as well. I now realized that he was probably the same way the previous night, although I was a bit distracted by the events happening at the previous party.

June distracted me by giving me a slow, leisurely hand job. I had my fingers between her legs, and was slowly manipulating her clitoris, which was rock hard. The look of pure pleasure on June’s face was priceless.

Afterward, Lynette wiggled away from Archy and moved toward Kristen and Camille.

“May I ask my Mistress if I can act as Mistress of Ceremonies for tonight’s party, or does my Mistress wish that Camille take over for the Pussy Slave?”

“During this Twelve Party, and the one tomorrow, you may be Lynette, but you will not wear clothing,” Kristen answered.

“Thank you, Kristen,” Lynette said, getting out of her Pussy Slave role.

“This goes for you, June,” I said to June. I really couldn’t bring myself to call June a “cunt whore” in front of others.

June sighed and gave me a big kiss, and then swam over to Archy while Lynette moved into the center of the tub.

Lynette announced, “Tonight’s Twelve Party will feature all the women who haven’t been a victim yet. This means Wendy, Patty, Jill, Kristen, June, and Jackie.”

Apparently, the rest of the boys would be victims for the final Twelve Party on Sunday.

As victims, the girls who still wore bikini bottoms removed theirs before being asked, having understood that part of the Twelve Party procedure.

“Good work, girls,” Lynette said, pleased that things were going smoothly. “I wish to ask the partners of the participants if anybody has any restriction to what their girlfriends should be allowed to do, other than fucking?”

Nobody spoke up.

“Very well,” Lynette said. “How about our victims? Any restrictions?”

Jackie and Jill looked nervous, but neither said anything.

“This is indeed interesting,” Lynette said. “Among the victims, anybody object to same sex oral activity?”

Jackie raised her hand. Jill noticed this and raised hers as well.

“All right, that’s quite fair,” Lynette said. “How about hugging, kissing, and cuddling?”

Neither girl seemed to have an objection to that.

“We seem to have a consensus, and it means hugging, kissing, and cuddling the victims by other girls is allowed. We’ll exclude oral sex for sanitary reasons. Understand?”

Everybody nodded.

Lynette smiled. “Camille, we have six victims and eight players. Would you mind acting as a victim to make the numbers work?”

“Of course,” Camille said. She was already nude, so there was nothing to take off.

“All right, we have seven victims and seven players. Tonight’s game is called ‘Ten Minutes of Heaven.’ All players and victims will be nude.” This elicited surprised gasps from most of the boys. “In addition, since no partners objected to anything, the rule is, ‘if your victim allows it, it’s fine.’ That includes touching, hugging, feeling, kissing, and whatever the two of you do. After ten minutes, you need to pick another victim that you haven’t played with.”

I saw most of the boys trying to surreptitiously remove their bathing suits.

Lynette added, “One final rule: Partners may not play. That means, Jim gets everybody but Kristen, I get everybody but Camille, and so forth.”

This was met by disappointed sounds.

Lynette ignored them. “I have a kitchen timer here, that will be our official signal.” Lynette placed it near the hot tub and wound it to ten minutes. “Players, choose your victims!”

I wanted to save June for last, so I went to Camille first. Since I did just about everything already with Camille, there wasn’t much I needed to get agreement about. We just kissed, and we playfully rubbed each other. After June’s extensive workout on my dick earlier that day, I wasn’t getting too hard. I didn’t mind it, and the two of us took the ten minutes as a way to relax and just have fun and cuddle.

All too soon, the timer bell went off, and Lynette yelled, “Switch!” as she rewound the timer.

Next to Camille was Jill, who was Roy’s date and also a cheerleader I introduced him to. Since Archy just left her, she was available so I quickly moved to her.

“Hi, Jim,” Jill said sweetly. “What do you want?”

“A kiss and maybe a hug. You can do whatever you want with me, but you’d have to be a magician in order to get a rise out of me. Between last night and today, I think I’ve hit my maximum.”

Jill giggled, and she grabbed my organ to see if I was fooling.

I wasn’t fooling, but Jill didn’t take it personally, and we spent our time together just hugging and kissing. Again, it was an enjoyable ten minutes.

The timer went off. “Switch!”

Everybody found themselves working in a counter clockwise fashion. It seemed to be the least confusing for everybody concerned. Of course, some people needed to be skipped when they were partners, but that was easy and consistent.

Jackie was next. I told her the same thing I told Jill about attempting the rouse the dead. Jackie was happy to just hug and kiss, but she whispered to me at one point, “I’m sorry about Steve. I didn’t know he was such an asshole.”

Actually, Steve’s behavior had been irritating me quite a bit, but I held my tongue, being the host. Even so, the fact that he smuggled cases of beer into a party that everybody had been told in advance would be strictly “no alcohol” was inexcusable. I had no idea how to deal with Steve without causing a scene, and as one of the youngest people at the party, I felt uncomfortable about doing that.

“Not a federal crime,” I whispered back, hiding my anger.

“I guess not, but I’m sorry just the same. Tell Kristen for me.”

“I will, Jackie.”

Lynette called out, “SWITCH!”

I swam over Kristen toward Wendy. “Miss Knockers, I presume!”

Wendy laughed. “That’s better than Winny Baygos,” she said.

“Who called you that?”

“Camille, at my birthday party. She got me a bra that must have been a 44 triple Z!”

I laughed. Wendy, being big bosomed, was always teased about her breast size. However, she realized that a lot of that teasing was based in jealousy, and she made jokes with the people instead of allowing herself to be laughed at. It was a great attitude for somebody like her to have.

“Do you mind just hugging and cuddling, Wendy?” I asked.

“You just want these knockers pressed against your body. The Great and Powerful Oogie is just like all the other guys, huh?”

“I guess so,” I admitted. “I just hugged and cuddled with everybody else so far.”

“Oh?” Wendy said. She hadn’t realized that.

Another hug and cuddle later, “SWITCH!” and next was Patty.

Patty and I didn’t say much. We just hugged and cuddled, and Patty even moaned during our kiss, even though I hadn’t tried to get her excited. Once again, I envisioned Patty with her red hair splayed out on my lap as she gave me a blow job, and lo and behold, blood started to flow into my penis.

“SWITCH!” came all too soon, but my final victim was the one that I saved for last: June.

“Hey, Jim!” June said, smiling.

“Cunt Whore?” I whispered. “Where did that come from?”

June winced. “It just flew into my head. I think I wanted to shock Kristen, but I don’t think that I did.”

“Kristen is hard to shock,” I admitted. “I bet you’re sorry now.”

“Who managed to get that thing up?” June asked, noticing my almost-erection.

“One of the girls,” I said, not wishing to violate Patty’s trust, since not too many people knew that we were once sexual partners.

“Must be a psychic. I figured you’d need a Ouija Board in order to hear from that guy again.”

I laughed. Patty was almost psychic, though.

“Hug and cuddle?” I asked.

“Sure, Oogie,” June answered. “Tomorrow, though, you get a blow job in the living room and I don’t care who watches! I want everybody to know that I have you in my power!”

I winced. “I thought you were supposed to be the Pussy Slave,” I said.

“Nope. I’m Cunt Whore now, remember?”

Once again I laughed.

We hugged. We cuddled.

All the sexual activity over the last 48 hours caught up to me. As June was pressing her body into mine, I fell asleep.

* * *

I dreamed that there was a blood-sucking vampire drinking me dry through my penis.

I woke up and felt two lips on my cock.

“No!” I yelled, still half in my dream.

“I felt that,” June said, softly.

“Where is everybody?” I asked, looking around. I was out of the hot tub and on one of the wood slat benches that followed the walls of the room. There were folded towels under my head to cushion me.

“They left. I’m supposed to bring you back to the master bedroom, and not to leave your side. Kristen’s orders. Or, should I say, Mistress’ orders!”

“You’re Cunt Whore again?” I asked, still not completely awake.

“Yeah. It’s like, three thirty in the morning.”

“I must have been tired,” I said, yawning.

June nodded. “Everybody was worried, but Patty told everybody you were just exhausted. Everybody left. Archy and Kristen are in our bedroom, so I get you tonight!”

“June…”

“Cunt Whore, Master.”

“June,” I insisted, “I can sleep alone. You go and sleep with Archy. If Kristen’s asleep, send her into our room when she wakes up.”

“Kristen’s probably not asleep, since she brought Lyn… Pussy Slave with her. I told Kristen your suggestion about… you know… teaching Archy?”

“I still would prefer to sleep alone.”

“Can’t do that, Master. Mistress told me to take you to bed and not leave your side. Her order was first, and therefore, it’s the one I follow.”

“Who made up that rule?”

“Cunt Whore did, Master!”

I sighed. “All right, but no blow jobs!”

“No promises, Master.”

I sighed once again.

June helped me up from the bench, and started to lead me out of the room. As we were about to pass the shower, I remembered the previous morning, when Lynette, Camille, Kristen, and I fooled around in there. Since I was no longer very groggy, I pushed June until she realized my destination.

I started a warm shower, and soaped June down. Looking at the contrast between the white lather and June’s chocolate skin actually turned me on.

June also seemed to like it when I soaped her ass, and I rubbed my dick along the crack in her ass as I soaped her breasts from behind.

“How do you do it, Master?” June asked.

“Do what?”

“Just when I think I enjoyed the best Oogie sex experience, you show me a new way to top it. I’m so close to an orgasm right now, that if you were to just…”

June was interrupted by one of my fingers suddenly moving south to touch her clit. “Oh, FUCK ME! FUCK ME! FUCK ME!”

I continued to rub my soapy finger onto June’s magic spot. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” she chanted.

June was vocal, and she loved swearing. The echoes in the shower room probably woke up the entire group. I was in for a penny, might as well be in for a pound, I figured.

June tried to squeeze her legs together to keep me from rubbing her. However, the soap on my finger, combined with her copious natural lubrication, allowed my finger to continue to move back and forth unabated. As June’s first orgasm started to fade, another rose to take its place.

“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”

With the hand I was using to play with her nipple, I pulled June’s face toward mine and kissed her.

“OOMPH!”

It took a couple of minutes, but June’s orgasm finally started to subside once again. June physically moved away from me to escape my fingers.

She stood underneath the shower droplets, her breath panting. She was no longer shouting, and seemed to be willing herself to be calm.

“You, Mister, are a demon sent from hell to torment innocent young virgins!”

I laughed. “An innocent young virgin named Cunt Whore?”

“In less than a day, you’ve got me addicted to you!”

“I’ll tell you what, June…”

“Cunt Whore,” June corrected.

“June,” I said, sternly. “Any time you feel that you want to be a little nasty, especially after Archy goes off to college, just show up at our apartment. Whether you want to be Cunt Whore or June, it’s your choice. Stay as long as you want, and I’ll be there for you. This is not just an offer for sex, but if you need a place to study, or want to relax with a game of pool, or to use Kristen’s family’s Solarium with a pool, hot tub, and steam room. Even if you just want to read a book in the living room and listen to records. Stay an hour or a week. If you want sex, Kristen, Lynette, and I will be around and we’ll make it as romantic or as nasty as you want it.”

June’s eyes were wide opened. “Is that for real?”

“It’s basically what Kris offered Lynette—Pussy Slave. I don’t want a slave. I want a friend. I don’t mind cuddling with you… I told you earlier that I think you are really cuddly. If Kristen wants Lynette, then I want you. I think I get the prettier one.”

“I’m definitely not prettier than Lynette!” June laughed. “You really want me?”

I pulled June to me and pushed her once again against the wall of the shower. My cock resumed its place in the crack of her ass, and my soapy fingers once again were on her breasts from behind. “I want you like THIS,” I said. “I want you coming so much and so often, you will be afraid to visit us. I want you to yell out so loud, the police will want to find the girl that is being tortured. I want you to know the enjoyment of sexual fulfillment, even if it doesn’t mean actual fucking. However, if you agree to this, then after tomorrow, your virginity is mine to take or to let you have, as I choose. Neither Kristen nor Pussy Slave can take it, and neither can Archy, unless it is your wedding night. You offer me that, and I’ll take you places that even I haven’t been.”

“Why me?”

“Because you are cute, you are a cheerleader, you are wonderful, and you are June.”

“OK.”

“OK?”

“I’ll be your Cunt Whore. You have possession of my virginity. Take it or leave it with me, I don’t care.”

“I won’t accept it tonight, June,” I said, softly. “The first day you come to our apartment will be the day that I accept it.”

“You won’t have a free weekend for the rest of your life, Master,” June said, softly.

“Don’t promise anything you cannot deliver. You may not want it every weekend. I want you when you feel a need to step outside to be somewhere that you might be afraid to go, and you want me there to hold your hand. When you need to relinquish all control to somebody else. At all other times, I want you to be June, the wonderful cute girl that I fell in love with that is in love with Archy.”

June nodded.

“If you want to be Cunt Whore, then it’s your name, but I won’t call you that. You are not my slave, and you are not a whore. You are my June.”

June now looked at me as if I was crazy.

“One other promise. I will love you. I will love you in a way different than any other. I won’t love you the same way that I love Kristen, but I will still love you. Kristen has more than one lover; there is no reason why I can’t have somebody else other than just Kristen.”

“You are scaring me.”

“I think I might be very tired, June,” I said, softly. “I think my mind might have been thinking too many things at once. I do know that I want you; I love you, and I want you to be mine. I don’t want a wife, since I have Kristen for that. I just want somebody… somebody that I can have fun with, and know that I have Kristen’s permission to do so. The day before you marry will be the last day you can be that person for me.”

June nodded.

“Now, bend over and grab your knees,” I said.

“Why?”

“Do you trust me?” I asked.

June assumed the position.

Five minutes later, June’s howls were once again heard throughout the house as I rubbed my cock along the folds of her slit, feeling the head of my cock pressing against her clit again and again.

* * *

I woke up to the loveliest black face smiling at me.

“Hi, June,” I said, automatically.

“Cunt Whore,” June reminded me.

“June.”

“How do you do it, Master?”

Huh? “Do what?”

“Even when you’re sleeping, I love you. You made me the most outrageous offer last night. You want me to be your girlfriend on the side. Any girl in her right mind would slap your face. You have me thinking it’s an offer too good to refuse. How do you do that?”

I shrugged. “I was a bit out of my mind last night, June. I think it was lack of sleep.” Not to mention too much sex!

“I’m in bed with you, and for the last hour, I’ve been staring at your sleeping face. You haven’t touched me, and I haven’t touched myself, but I’m completely sopped between my legs.”

“I’ll have to do something about that,” I said, moving my hand downward.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” June screamed, playfully. “Three orgasms yesterday, three more this morning. You will wear me out.”

“I think that makes up for two blow jobs in one day. Archy tells me that he worries about two in two days.”

June giggled. “He usually has problems with two in a single week. He says that I’m insatiable.”

“Let me help satiate you.”

“Don’t you dare!” June said, grabbing my hand before it went further.

“Would you like to do something nasty?”

“Not right now!” June giggled.

“Here’s a fun suggestion. Tomorrow is Monday. It’s usually Cut-Out day, but I’ll be in school. I want you there, too. In fourth period, meet me in the music room. Cut class if you have to, but meet me there.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“Will you give me an orgasm there?” June asked.

“At least one.”

“Why the music room?”

I giggled. “I’d like to test out how soundproof the practice rooms are.”

June shook her head. “How do you do that?” she whispered, mostly to herself.

I kissed her warm, wonderful face.

Her eyes closed, and her tongue readily entered my mouth.

Having her distracted, my hand reached its destination.

June broke the kiss and whispered, “Oh, shit!”

The whispers didn’t last long.

June’s swears could be heard echoing throughout the house.

* * *

At breakfast, June was sitting nude next to Archy. She had the biggest smile on her face as she looked at me.

Archy finished his food, and got up. He walked to where I was and said, “May I speak with you in private?”

“Sure,” I said.

In my bedroom, Archy said, “June and I had a long talk.”

I nodded. I told June to let Archy know everything up front. I told her to tell him her reasons for wanting, but that Archy has veto power. I might be the one to help June explore her dark side, but Archy was June’s future.

“I also talked to Kristen last night.”

I hadn’t known that.

“She described Lynette in a way very similar to how June described herself. Lynette was fucking there licking Kristen, and Kristen talked about her as if she wasn’t even there. It was amazing. Lynette could fuck the entire football team—she probably has most of them, since I knew the rules about Lynette and Camille. She still wants to be with Kristen. She yearns for it. Now I see it with June and you.”

I shook my head. “June isn’t truly in love with me the same way Lynette is in love with Kristen.”

“I know that. I saw last night that Lynette feels something the way I feel for June. June sees you as… I don’t know… a teacher?”

I nodded at this. “Yeah, that’s more like it.”

“I never thought that I’d say this, but… you can have my girlfriend.”

“I don’t want your girlfriend, Archy.”

“Huh?”

“June is your future, and you are her future. June is like a little girl in a candy shop. Everything she sees seems wonderful. I asked her to let me control her virginity, but I only did that so that everything we do together has a touch of danger to it… could this be the time I take it?”

Archy nodded at this.

I continued. “You, on the other hand, are the one she loves, passionately and completely. I may get affection from her, and that’s fine with me. I have Kristen for the rest. I enjoy that cute, lovable, and playful kid that’s inside June and has been afraid to come out until this weekend. This kid may never be that way with you, because it would undermine the fact that the two of you want to be equals in a caring relationship.”

“Kristen said something like that,” Archy said.

“June sees me as this… knight in shining armor. The one that enlisted the man she loves to help defend the honor of a few of her fellow cheerleaders. I’ve been told by too many people that nearly everybody in school thinks that I’m perfect. Well, I’m tired of being perfect. I want to be seen as less than perfect. I want to have an outlet for this savage beast that Kristen discovered within me. June is that perfect person. I love her in my own way, and I also am very close friends with the person she intends to marry. I see a sexual powerhouse within her that she’s afraid to unleash.”

“Kristen never said that.”

“Kristen doesn’t understand the pressure that I feel every time my music teacher gives me an assignment. It can’t be just another one like the others. People keep on expecting more, more, more. This year the musical was Music Man. I have no idea what next year’s will be, but I wouldn’t be surprised if news networks don’t cover it. Do you understand that kind of pressure, Archy?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You do?” I asked, not expecting that answer.

“A linebacker that has a number of regional records and state records? A wrestler who has never lost a match? Do you want to talk to me about pressure?”

“I’m sorry, Archy. You’re right,” I said with a sigh. “I’m really sorry. It’s just that Patty pointed out a few things to me when I was feeling down on myself yesterday. I didn’t see that what I’m going through might happen to others. It seems so weird to me.”

“Jim, you’re sixteen fucking years old, and already you’re one of the most popular guys in school. You have June wanting you to call her Cunt Whore, and she loves it.”

“Listen, I’ll understand if you don’t want to be a part of it…”

“I do. I owe you so much, Jim,” Archy said. “In half a school year, you’ve taught me to sight-read music. You’ve taught me technique on the trumpet that my uncle never suspected, and people considered my uncle great. You went from being a person that people whispered about to being my closest friend and now my girlfriend’s lover. June told me she wanted to give you her virginity, and I said, ‘OK!’ She came back after yelling as if the devil’s got her soul and told me that you took it and showed me your sperm between her legs and how she’s now your slave! And I still think I owe you more!”

“What is wrong with everybody?” I asked, mostly to myself.

“Nobody knows how to handle you, Jim. Kristen might be close, but even when you start acting weird, you are nice about it. You have my girlfriend calling herself your whore, but you make sure she enjoys it more than I could make her enjoy being my girlfriend. Then June tells Kristen to have Lynette teach me how to please a woman. That was you speaking, June would never think of that!”

“She did,” I said.

“No, Jim,” Archy said, shaking his head. “The June that I knew a couple of days ago at the Prom would never have thought it. You’ve turned her into something… more. You didn’t take anything from her. You gave her—are giving her—everything that she never even knew she wanted. And in return, I get more than what was there when you started with her. I thought I had everything… a girl who loves me and who is wonderful when we play together.”

Archy shook his head. “You took her, and in less than a day, she is now a woman that will demand more from me until I learn how to give it. I am a little scared at what you will make her, but I know in the end she will be mine, and only mine. And, after we’re married, June will spend years teaching me everything that she has learned from you, and when she looks at me, she won’t be seeing you, she’ll be seeing me. I know that because I know you, and I know June.”

I shrugged.

“You know, at first, when June suggested having Lynette show me how a girl pleases another girl, I was angry. The nerve of you, thinking that I needed fucking lessons! I couldn’t stay angry at you, though. After all, the entire school knows how much you and Kristen are in love. Everybody notices the way that two of you look at each other. The two of you host this wonderful party here on the lake, and then literally give each other to everybody.”

“Yeah. It’s kind of weird, huh?”

Archy laughed. “So, I watched Lynette. I never saw two girls do it before, except for the kissing and cuddling in the hot tub. Believe me, it was sexy. I watched, and then I noticed something. When I play around with June, it’s just that. Playing around. Lynette wasn’t playing around. She took her time. That was the difference. There’s no magical touch or secret handshake. It’s just going slower and not rushing. If I hadn’t been looking, if I let my anger cloud my thinking, I wouldn’t have learned.”

I smiled. Pleasing a woman isn’t rocket science.

Archy continued. “When I did Kristen this morning, it was much different. Kristen enjoyed it—I could tell it was much better than before—she even sent Lynette out of the room!”

This was more information than I wanted. “I understand, Archy.”

“That’s it! I understand, too! June isn’t Kristen. June might give the world’s greatest blow jobs, but Kristen is completely different. I don’t share that love you have with her. I realize it’s the same with June and you. That’s why I’m telling you, you have my permission to teach June whatever you think she wants to learn. I know that June is mine, if she’ll have me. I know that you will teach June, the same way Lynette taught me. Even after one day, I already have something more with June.”

I yawned. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous nights.

Archy laughed. “Take care of June for me. I know you won’t hurt her, so I won’t even insult you by threatening you. I’ll ask her to let me know when she’s with you so I don’t embarrass her by showing up at her house when she’s not there. I have no idea what she’ll tell her mother.”

“Can I make a request of you, Archy?” I said, stifling another yawn.

“Anything, Jim.”

“Can you let her blow you today? I think if she were to try, my body would cave in on itself.”

Archy laughed again. “The old June would have only wanted to do it maybe twice a week. You unleashed a monster within June. You will have to learn to live with her. After all, eventually, I’m the one that will have to learn to deal with her after we’re married.”

June and Archy spent some “quality time” on their own that morning. I don’t know what they did, but I heard June reach a couple of loud orgasms.

* * *

The final Twelve party was in the swimming pool. Everybody nude, and just hanging around in and out of the water. People hugged and fondled, and everybody enjoyed one another.

It was a fun way to say “good-bye” after a wonderful weekend.

Before people started leaving, Lynette and Camille told everybody that this weekend was between us, and not to go spreading stories about what happened at the villa.

Of course, we knew that the younger students who weren’t graduating might whisper about some of the stranger things that went on, but we told them we trusted their discretion.

After most of the people left, and Lynette, Camille, Kristen, and I stripped all the beds and put the dirty linens into a pile in the middle of the living room floor. The owners would have a laundry service come in, pick up the linens, clean them, and put the place back in order. We were just making things easier for them.

We went from room to room, straightening things up to the way they were when we got there and collecting garbage. Kristen called the owner before we left, and he was impressed with the condition of the place when he came over. He left us an open invitation to return whenever we wanted to do so.

* * *

Lynette and Camille drove back with us, intending to spend the night at our apartment.

When we got there, Kristen revealed a surprise for all of us. In one of the “unfinished” rooms downstairs, Kristen arranged for a communal shower to be installed. It’s location was perfect for connecting to the existing plumbing, and the Swift’s “do everything” man, Harry, had overseen the work. It seems when Kristen is willing to pay whatever it takes to get a job done fast, people can work miracles!

Although I hoped I would get an early night and some needed sleep, the girls dragged me in to christen our new shower with a repeat performance of what we did after the first midnight Twelve party.

There’s something about soap against a woman’s skin, grazing your fingers over slippery nipples, rubbing a finger or two within warm slits, all the while having warm water pounding on your body…

Even Kristen’s oral talents couldn’t get much from me. Instead of being disappointed, she said, “Poor baby, did Cunt Whore wear you out?”

I simply nodded. Having June around, even if it would only be occasionally, would be a lot of work.

Chapter 23—Breakdown

The radio is blastin’,

Someone’s knocking at the door.

I’m lookin’ at my girlfriend,

She’s passed out on the floor!

I’m seein’ so many things

I ain’t never seen before!

Don’t know what it is,

I don’t wanna see no more!

Mama told me not to come.

Mama told me not to come.

She said, “That ain’t the way to have fun, son!”

“That ain’t the way to have fun. No!”

Three Dog Night

Mama Told Me Not To Come

First period on Monday, Sherry saw me. “I heard that you had a wild weekend.”

“Who told you that?” I asked, innocently.

“Oh, a little birdie,” Sherry said, sweetly.

“June is looking like it will be a lovely month,” I said, dreamily.

Sherry blushed in response. I knew that the rumor mill was running at normal speed, which was faster than humanly possible.

I was happy. Operation Unsaint Jim was underway.

* * *

I ditched lunch and stayed in the music room. Mr. Proilet asked if I was working on a special project, and I nodded. He smiled at me, and asked me to lock up when I left.

I waited a few moments, but June didn’t arrive. I was disappointed, and decided to check out the practice rooms at the other end of the room. I hadn’t played a note the past weekend, and it couldn’t hurt to keep the fingers in shape.

There was a light on in one of the rooms when I opened the door. Inside, I found a totally naked cheerleader with chocolate-brown skin.

“June!” I exclaimed, surprised. “How long have you been here?”

“Since second period,” June answered. “I told your teacher that you left some music in one of the practice rooms. I’m not sure if he knows whether I left or not. I kept thinking that somebody would come in—I felt very naughty.”

“Practice rooms are usually used during fifth and sixth period during Music Theory classes.”

“I heard the band playing last period. I… I was playing with myself, knowing you were in the room. I reached a loud orgasm. I don’t think anybody heard me, but I felt very nasty!”

I wonder how much Mr. Proilet heard about last weekend. I knew that June’s name was mentioned, and Mr. Proilet, one of the younger teachers, seemed to be pretty much attuned to what the kids were saying.

I decided that there were worse things to worry about than what Mr. Proilet thought. After all, he cut me quite a lot of slack, and if he heard my name linked with June, and knew that June was inside the practice room, then it was obvious that he let me alone in the music room, so I knew he wasn’t going to try to bust me.

Still, I felt the wickedness that June described.

I pulled my pants down, and sat on the piano bench. I signaled June to come over, and she was surprised when I lifted her up and placed her on my lap. My cock was sticking up between her legs.

June looked down between her legs. “It’s as if I have my own penis!”

“Well, it’s yours only temporary. I’ve become attached to it.”

June laughed, but continued staring. “It’s like… weird!”

I moved my hands to cup June’s breasts and I felt her body shiver at my touch.

I kissed June’s ears, and then moved my hands from her breasts to the ivory keys in front of her.

This was one of my fantasies, although I never played it out with Kristen.

My hands played the opening chords that was the introduction to Elton John’s ”Goodbye, Yellow Brick Road.”

I softly sung the song lyrics in June’s ear as I accompanied myself on piano. I could feel June grinding her crotch against my pubic hair, and I could feel her excitement start to build as I caressed her body with my arms as I continued to play the song and sing in her ear.

When the song was complete, I resumed kissing June’s ear.

“That’s a lovely song, but it’s also sad song, isn’t it?” June asked.

“Yes,” I said, having progressed to licking inside June’s ear.

“What’s it about?” June asked.

“A guy is leaving his rich mistress. However, some of the words are vague, and it could also be that he’s leaving his male lover. Looking at it another way, it’s also a song of escape.”

“Ooh, a nasty song!” June said, her wiggling on my crotch getting more pronounced.

My fingers were back on June’s breasts. Her nipples were about as hard as I ever felt them. I sighed as I remembered the feel of slippery soap over those nipples. Kristen was to blame for this particular fondness I now had.

June’s orgasm wasn’t very loud, nor was it very big. However, June seemed quite content when it finished washing over her.

“How do you do it?” June asked, breathlessly.

“I just do what comes naturally,” I said.

“On four occasions, I’ve been with you. I’ve received eight orgasms. And each time, it’s been different. You lick me, you rub my body, you touch me between my legs, you have me hump your cock. How do you do it?”

“You inspire me to new heights, June.”

“That can’t be it,” June said.

“You do, June. How do you do it? You enter a practice room and remove all your clothes. You wait two periods, not knowing if anybody will look in before I do.”

“I couldn’t have done it if last weekend hadn’t happened.”

I laughed. “I didn’t do anything, June. You are doing it yourself. I’m just hanging on for the ride!”

June rotated herself on my lap so that she was facing me with my cock aligned with the crack on her ass. She moved her legs until they were wrapped around my hips. Her arms pulled her body close to mine. Her nipples rubbed into my breasts. “Kiss me, Jim!”

I did. June started grinding against me once more. It took about ten minutes, but she reached another pleasant orgasm.

“I like it this way,” June said. “Archy and I never did it that way.”

“Archy never had a nasty girl in bed with him.”

“Yeah. Cunt Whore is pretty nasty, huh?” June teased.

The clock in the practice room showed me there was still some more time. I once again started to play a song, but when June realized what I was doing, she rotated around again so she could “participate.”

I played a song that I only tried to play a few times. I liked the song when it was a hit, and did an arrangement for piano for it, but there was never any inspiration for me to actually perform it—until today.

I knew a man Bojangles, and he danced for you,

In worn out shoes.

Silver hair, a ragged shirt, and baggy pants.

The old soft shoe.

He jumped so high, he jumped so high.

Then he’d lightly touch down.

I sang the song softly, using the piano only to play arpeggios, the way that the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band played the song on acoustic guitars.

June didn’t say a word during the song. I knew that it affected her, but she didn’t say anything. Her grinding was minimal during that song, which surprised me.

When the song ended, June still said nothing at all, but turned around, hugged me, and cried.

I hadn’t expected this reaction from her. I hugged her back, confused.

After a very long kiss, June broke it off and looked at me.

“I have another request for you, Oogie.”

“Yes?”

“On the day that we get married, could you play that song for Archy and me? I would love that song to be our wedding song.”

“It’s not a romantic song, June,” I pointed out.

“Yes it is, Oogie.”

I didn’t correct June. Bojangles Robinson was black, and the song might have a different meaning to her than it did to me. I’ve learned long ago that a song that people laugh at, like Blue Swede’s ”Hooked on a Feeling,” could also be seen as romantic, the way my lovely blonde Goddess would always think of that song.

June expressed her happiness in my choice of song by kissing me very long and intimately.

After we broke from that kiss, I looked up at the clock in the room, and saw that there was less than five minutes left in the period. I moved June off my lap and told her to get dressed. I noticed that she went without bra or panties. “You nasty girl!” I teased.

“People are already talking about us, Jim. I feel so nasty and so proud. A lot of girls don’t believe it. I think that they are jealous of me.”

“I know,” I said. “Sherry seemed to know the gossip in first period.”

“Gossip travels fast!”

I nodded. “I’m pretty sure who started it. Jackie’s boyfriend, Steve.”

“Jackie and Steve broke up after they left the villa,” June told me. “Jackie confided to me that she wanted to do it at the villa but wanted to avoid a nasty and public confrontation.”

I understood Jackie’s motives. Avoiding confrontation was why I also declined to do anything about Steve’s obvious dismissal of Kristen’s hard rule of “no liquor” at the villa.

Kristen had made that rule out of respect for me, knowing how I felt about my father, and had offered all of our friends a free weekend at a wonderful villa with only that one string attached. The fact that Steve so heartlessly ignored that one request told me a lot about his character.

“Jackie told me that he’s an asshole,” I observed. “I agree with her.”

“Can you do me a favor?” June asked.

“Anything.”

“Hold my hand and walk me to my next class.”

I laughed. “You nasty, nasty girl!”

The class bell rang, and as June and I walked the hallway, it was obvious that we received an unusual amount of stares. We pretended not to notice, but I could actually smell the sweet aroma of June’s arousal as I deposited her at her classroom.

To further dispel all doubts, I gave June a totally unnecessary good-bye kiss in front of the open door to her classroom.

As I walked to gym class, I noticed that a lot of girls were checking me out, seeing me as maybe being a bit more available than I was when I was seen as exclusively Kristen’s. I hadn’t expected that particular response, actually.

In the locker room, I received a lot of ribbing from my class mates. “Way to go, Stud!” said one friend.

“You better watch out for Tiny,” warned another. “I hear he wants your balls on a skewer!”

I winced at that description, but I knew for a fact that this wasn’t true.

There were only a couple of teases that bothered me. They all stemmed from the fact that June was Negro and I was a Caucasian. My response to that was a serious glare at the offending parties, who decided to keep their racist thoughts to themselves.

Although blacks were no small minority in Chicago at that time during the 1970s, the suburban community where I lived was still predominantly white. Interracial dating was extremely rare, and I guess that despite the fact that Archie Bunker was on the air for a while showing bigotry to be the silly idiotic thing it really is, some people never learned anything.

I didn’t think of myself as “Crusader Whitey” who would be responsible for wiping out prejudice in our community, and to tell you the truth, I really hadn’t thought through the racial angle. I mean, when I first held June in my arms, the fact that she was black made her seem more exotic. But that was just a very small part of what made her special to me. She didn’t taste or smell any different. Her skin beaded water differently than mine in the shower, but I knew white girls for whom that was true as well. What I loved about June was that little girl I discovered who I wanted to get to know a lot better.

I noticed that some of the dumber white people no longer liked me now. That didn’t bother me, actually. I never really identified with those assholes, anyway.

However, some of the black kids also seemed to glare at me as well, as if I was reducing the amount of pussy available to them. I mean, I bet those guys didn’t treat Tiny the same way when he made it clear that June’s dance card was full. I truly couldn’t understand their anger.

I found myself shunned by those two groups in gym class. I felt a bit confused about this. Then a black student threw a basketball at me (not to me) during a game. The fact that he knocked me down and he was supposed to be on my own team surprised me, as well as the gym teacher.

That was enough! I left the gym class, ignoring the protests of my coach. I quickly got dressed and walked back to the music room.

Mr. Proilet was teaching his Theory class. He saw me come into the room, and he interrupted his class. “More practice, Jim?”

“Something like that,” I mumbled.

On automatic, I entered the same practice room that June and I shared earlier. Nobody was inside, so I closed the door and started playing the piano.

I started with the Moonlight Sonata, a song that usually calms me down. For the first time that I could recall, it didn’t work.

Next, I picked a random song: an oldie called ”You’re Sixteen,” and a random key: D-flat.

It was one of those songs with only about four chords, so it worked. I started shouting the lyrics and noticed that the song consisted of a very limited vocal range.

The song and key signature suddenly sounded familiar. It was an oldie, but there was a remake of it that was on the radio occasionally. Ringo Starr sang it; it was his range and I believe that this was the key he used in the song. If I remember correctly, Paul McCartney and Harry Nilsson sang backup on the song, and one of them even played a kazoo solo.

I sighed, thinking of the Beatles, and switched before the song ended to Day Tripper, a song that was most definitely not designed for piano. I wasn’t going for easy, I wanted hard. I even managed to pull off one of George Harrison’s sitar songs from Sgt. Pepper.

I ended up doing a complete Beatles medley, playing bits and pieces of songs, and at one point, I was trying to remember the order of the songs on side two of Abbey Road.

I switched from Beatles to Three Dog Night, and when I started playing a song I realized was ”Black and White“ I slammed the keyboard cover down hard and put my head in my hands and started to cry.

“Jim,” my music teacher said, softly. “We need to talk.”

I don’t know how long he was in the room, but he was there long enough.

* * *

I hadn’t noticed the time. I spent most of fifth period through eighth in the practice room. School was over, and apparently, many people were looking for me. Mr. Proilet was the first person that people checked, and, of course, he knew where I was.

As I exited the practice room, I still felt tears running down my face. Imagine my surprise when I saw Sherry, Kristen, Camille, Patty, June, Archy, Lynette, and everybody I considered to be my friend looking at me, very concerned.

“Coach Dillard told me what happened in gym,” Mr. Proilet said.

“I’m a fucking asshole,” I said, totally sick at everybody and everything.

Mr. Proilet shook his head. “Kristen, take him home. Keep him there for a few days. He’s got a lot on his mind.”

Kristen nodded, and I walked off with my Goddess.

* * *

The phone rang and I picked it up.

“Hello, Jim?”

It was June’s voice.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about today,” June said.

“It’s not your fault,” I said.

“I’m still sorry.”

“Forget it.”

“I wanted to know… are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you, June!” I said.

“I’ve got homework tonight, but I think I can get my mom to let me go out tomorrow night. Can Cunt Whore visit you then?”

“You have an open invitation, June.”

“Thanks, Jim.” June hung up.

I was confused about June’s call, but then I heard another click on the line, before I heard dial tone.

I remembered that kind of click when Merry was a few years younger eavesdropping on my phone calls.

There were two extensions in our apartment, but the only other person in the apartment was Kristen, who was sitting on what was usually my favorite recliner. Lynette was at the hair stylist per Kristen’s orders.

I realized that somebody was listening in on June’s side.

I figured that tomorrow night was going to be interesting.

I got to bed early, and Kristen didn’t have a problem with that. We hugged each other tightly, and I fell asleep quite quickly.

* * *

It took a lot of convincing from Kristen for me to not go to school.

After Kristen drove off, I considered walking the three miles to the school. It wouldn’t take that long, and it would give me some time to think about things.

As I was about to leave, however, the phone rang.

I picked up the phone.

“Don’t even think of walking.”

It was Kristen. She hung up immediately.

Am I that fucking predictable?

I went downstairs to the practice room and started taking my frustration out on my electric piano. Kristen recently purchased me an upright grand piano, which was similar to the ones at the school, and I decided that an acoustic piano was better for taking out my frustrations.

When I was angry, I played very hard.

I was in the middle of the Funeral for a Friend, from Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road intro when I saw daylight flash into the room.

I turned, while continuing to play the chromatic finale of the song that leads into Love Lies Bleeding and noticed my music teacher walk into my practice room. I stopped.

“Elton double tracked that part,” Mr. Proilet said. “You’re trying to play two keyboards on one to get his sound.”

“Elton used a professional studio,” I shrugged.

“Kristen said you’d either be here or in the next room playing pool. A lot of musicians and mathematicians play pool, you know.”

“Don’t you have class?” I asked.

“Teachers can take days off. Especially music teachers that only have commencement to worry about.”

“I think I fucked up with June,” I said, knowing that my teacher knew about the rumors.

“You fucked up. How?”

“She’s black, I’m white. Everybody hates me.”

“Wasn’t that the idea?” Mr. Proilet asked. “Didn’t you want to show everybody that your feet were made of clay?”

“I didn’t want people to hate me!”

“The only people that hate you are the assholes.”

“There are plenty of people that fit in that category.”

Mr. Proilet laughed. “Tiny ‘accidentally’ bumped into Reggie Woods yesterday after the incident in the gym. He made it perfectly clear that people that aren’t nice to Jim Crittenhouse will find they will have Tiny Jonas to deal with.”

“Really?”

“How do you do it?” Mr. Proilet. “June and Tiny have been going together for years. You ‘discover’ him this year, you’re best friends, and he doesn’t mind you with June.”

“June’s mom is going to confront us tonight.”

“Oh?” Mr. Proilet seemed surprised by that.

“She listened in when June called me last night. She knows that June’s coming over here tonight.”

“You don’t seem nervous,” my teacher said.

“What can June’s mom do to me? I’m not her son. She can forbid June from coming, but she can’t touch me. I’m younger than June, so it will be difficult to say that I’m taking advantage of her.”

“For somebody so smart, you still let some assholes dictate to you.”

“What do you mean?”

Mr. Proilet sighed. “If June’s mom does that, she’s an asshole, and you already know how to deal with her. Why can’t you do that with people like Reggie?”

“He’s black.”

“So is June’s mom.”

That was true. “Well, I know why she’s going to dislike me. She knows what June calls herself when she’s with me.”

“And nobody else does?” Mr. Proilet asked. “You call a black girl a whore, and black guys will get offended.”

“June chose that name, and I never called her that.”

“Did Lynette choose her name?”

Mr. Proilet seemed to be pretty well connected into the school gossip mill. “Kristen chose that one.”

“I won’t lie to you, Jim. I don’t totally understand you. You have an amazing gift, and you know it and you use it. I’ve seen a lot of so-called prodigies come and go, but none of them has the drive that you have. I’m willing to call in favors to see that you develop the potential you were born with. You seem to have a perfect love life, and…”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m the most popular guy in school. The cheerleaders love me, every girl wants my baby.”

“As I said, I don’t understand you,” Mr. Proilet said, getting back on track. “You put into motion this… this totally amazing and unexpected plan to make people think of you as a regular guy, but when they do, you retreat into yourself. Do you want that or do you not?”

“I want that.”

“Then you will have to expect assholes like Reggie Woods. If you didn’t have June, you could have Sherry Jordan. And then, somebody else would have a secret crush on her and resent you. When it was just you and Kristen, people resented you because they secretly wanted Kristen. When they saw what the two of you were capable of doing together, and saw that it was greater than what you did before you met her, they cut you slack. You made the right choice, and it was obvious.”

“And?” I asked.

“It didn’t happen overnight,” Mr. Proilet said. “You won over a lot of people, including me, when you put together that ’Hooked on a Feeling’ session. Do you know people are still making copies of copies of a cassette of that? Anyway, people started realizing what you and Kristen were around November. Somehow, the cheerleaders adopted you, and after the Christmas concert, you arrived. It didn’t happen overnight.”

I nodded. His recollection was about correct.

“Do you know that band enrollment nearly doubled for next year? The kids saw our Spring Concert and our performance of the musical at the junior high, and it seems to have piqued their interest. They love the jazz band so much that it’s now seen as hip to be in the band! You did that!”

“Really?”

“You don’t do marching band, but even that has stepped up. People are excited over the music program now, people that would never have considered it before. If I wanted, I could probably ask for an increase in my salary to handle the additional people, or even ask for an assistant.”

“Wow. You need more prodigies, Mr. Proilet!”

My teacher laughed. “Jean, please.”

“Sorry.”

“I can’t handle prodigies. Luckily, I didn’t have to handle you. You already know everything I teach in the junior and senior Music Theory classes. I have no idea how to keep you from getting bored in the next two years.”

“Maybe I could guest conduct the Chicago Symphony. You know, for extra credit?”

Both of us laughed at that.

“You have a razor sharp mind, Jim. I think that is what makes you special. You have talent, a sharp mind, and a ruthless work ethic. Your problem is that you expect nothing less from everybody else.”

I found myself nodding and then realized that Mr. Proilet hit upon what was really bothering me.

“That’s right!”

The two of us talked for a while, and then we played duets. I felt better, so I played the electric keyboard while Mr. Proilet accompanied me on acoustic.

Mr. Proilet left around noon time. He drove me to school.

Kristen, Patty, and Sherry were surprised to see me at Lunch. “Mr. Proilet drove me in.”

They noticed that I appeared to be in a much happier mood.

“What period does June have lunch?” I asked.

Sherry and Patty answered: “Third.”

Damn! Missed her.

I remembered that I skipped lunch on Monday and walked June to her fifth period class, so I knew where she’d be.

The girls were still a bit suspicious about me, and Patty asked me some guarded questions, but by the time the class bell rang, we were once again chatting like old friends.

I found June on the way to her fifth period class. “June! I need to talk with you.”

“What’s up? I heard that you had kind of a nervous breakdown.”

“Exaggeration,” I said, laughing. “You know the rumor mill.”

June laughed. “Did you hear what Archy did to Reggie yesterday?”

“I heard. Listen, I have something serious to tell you.”

“Sure.”

“Your mother knows about tonight.”

“Huh?”

“I’m ready for her, so trust me. I’ll find Archy and let him know, just in case.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to do what I should have done yesterday. I’m going to grab the bull by the horns.”

In the locker room, people were surprised to see me. I remembered each and every asshole that said something nasty to me and I gave them each a cold look. I noticed that Reggie Woods avoided direct eye contact with me.

It was a tense gym class, but nothing was said, nor was anything implied. The tenseness got less as the class drew on and it was obvious that nothing was going to happen.

I found Archy in the hallway, and explained to him about June’s mother. We talked for about five minutes in the hallway, well into the next period. He gave me a pretty good idea of what to expect with June’s mother, who was very much as I expected her to be, having a mother myself. One of the things that I saw in June was that similarity of our mothers, even though I never met June’s mother in person before.

After school, Kristen drove me home.

June arrived about five thirty. She arrived with Archy, but only June entered the apartment. A few minutes later, she was nude and sitting on a love seat next to me.

Lynette arrived about ten minutes later, surprising Kristen. I suggested it might be a good thing for the two of them to spend some “quality time” together. When and if June’s mother came around, I didn’t want the eighteen year old girls to be around.

Before the girls could leave, the intercom sounded. “I have a Mrs. Rodgers here to talk to Kristen and Jim about her daughter, June.”

“Wait thirty seconds, Wally, and then raise the gate,” I said.

“Will do.”

“Kris, Lynette… get downstairs into the practice room. Lynette, did you bring your car?”

“Yes, Mr. Big.”

June snickered at my nickname despite her nervousness.

“Do you have your clothes in it?”

“Yes, Mr. Big.”

“The two of you should leave after Mrs. Rodgers arrives. You can get dressed when you leave the property. Go somewhere for a couple of hours. End up at Vaughn’s, where I’ll call you guys.”

“Are you sure?” Kristen asked me.

“I’m very sure.”

“All right.”

The two girls departed, and I went downstairs to the parking lot and watched June’s mother park her car.

“Is this the orgy place?” Mrs. Rodgers asked.

“Let’s be civil, Mrs. Rodgers. I’ve been expecting you.”

The black lady sniffed, thinking that I was showing a false bravado.

I was perfectly relaxed. “Let’s go upstairs. June is upstairs.”

“You mean, your Cum Whore.”

“I believe she calls herself Cunt Whore,” I corrected.

Mrs. Rodgers was taken aback by my forthrightness, but caught herself. “Whatever.”

I led Mrs. Rodgers upstairs, and I saw the outside door open as Kristen and Lynette ran out.

Mrs. Rodgers saw June, completely naked, sitting on our love seat. She gasped.

“Mrs. Rodgers, I’m sure you know your daughter.”

Mrs. Rodgers glared at me. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but…”

“It’s not a game, Mrs. Rodgers.”

“June, I want you to get your clothes and…”

“I can’t.”

“Excuse me?” the mother asked.

“Archy has my clothes, and he won’t pick me up until midnight. I have been ordered to sit here, and my Master hasn’t given me any other order, so I cannot get up.”

“Archy is in on this?”

“Sit down, Mrs. Rodgers,” I said in a firm, commanding voice.

Without thinking, June’s mother did as I directed. I smiled and took my place on the love seat next to June.

“Archy Jonas indeed knows about June and me,” I said. “Archy and June have also given me June’s virginity. I can take it right now, or I can let her keep it. It’s my choice, and nobody else’s. Not yours, not Archy’s, and not June’s.”

“You can’t be serious…”

I turned to June and glanced down at her crotch. June heard my unspoken command and spread her legs, a bit shy due to the fact that her mother was in the room. I continued to stare, and she finally opened them wide enough to give a nice show.

“Lovely,” I said, and I put my right hand on June’s pussy.

“Stop that right now!” Mrs. Rodgers demanded.

“You are an uninvited guest in my house, Mrs. Rodgers. You do not give orders here.” I turned to June and said in a stage whisper, “Just a little wider… there, that’s it.”

“I won’t have you…”

“What you want isn’t the point, Mrs. Rodgers!”

Kristen and Patty gave me most of the information I needed, but I spent a lot of time thinking about what I would say. I remembered Patty’s advice when Ms. Taylor confronted me in the front office to not allow people to bully me and to stand up for what I believed. Even so, I needed to make my point, and I didn’t want to sound crude except where I needed to.

I slowly said, “You will not allow your daughter to enjoy the feeling of a man’s fingers? Why not? Is she too young? How old were you when a boy did this to you?”

Archy also gave me some information on Mrs. Rodgers during our brief conversation in the hallway. She married at seventeen, and June was born only seven months later. Her husband left her a few months after June was born. She worked two jobs because her husband didn’t pay his alimony or the child support. She was not a paragon of virtue by any means.

“That is none of your business!”

“If that is the case,” I said, continuing to rub June, “then this is none of yours.”

“She’s my daughter!”

“And you’re her mother. How old were you?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“Let’s see,” I said, smiling wickedly at the mother as I continued fondling June. “You got married at seventeen, and June was born seven months later. Let’s do the math!”

“You… you bastard!”

I grinned wickedly. “I will not have you call her names.”

“I was talking to you!” her mother spat.

June’s breathing was getting faster. I think the nastiness of my manipulating her in front of her mother was adding to her arousal.

“Sticks and stones will break my bones,” I chanted.

I turned my attention from the mother, and moved over to June and kissed her ear, wiggling my tongue into it. June’s breathing got deeper.

“You will stop that…”

“Or what? What will you do?”

“I’ll call the police! This is statutory rape!”

“The phone is right over there, Mrs. Rodgers. You’ll find them hesitant coming out here, as Kristen’s father is a big supporter of the community, but a rape charge will get past any hesitation. Of course, with June being seventeen and me being sixteen…”

“Ms. Swift is eighteen!”

“She’s not here. Can you prove that Kristen knows what’s happening right now?”

“This is her apartment.”

I shook my head. “For her eighteenth birthday, Kristen deeded this part of the property to me. To me! Kristen has a bedroom in the main house. Her parents, her brother, June, and I and a few of our friends are willing to testify to that.”

“Stop touching my daughter!”

I decided to up the ante. I took my other hand, and started fondling June’s breasts, teasing her nipple. I knew she was getting quite close.

“Or what? Did you know that Kristen and I consulted with her lawyers this evening? They say that you can indeed have me put in jail, but I will be immediately released when the Habeas Corpus and the notarized depositions they are already in the process of getting are displayed. That will lead to the police dropping the charges, and a civil charge brought up about something called Wrongful Prosecution, False Imprisonment, or something like that. Law hasn’t been my strong suit. I’m a musician, actually. Kristen’s family has a bunch of lawyers at their beck and call.”

June’s orgasm finally washed over her. She blushed cutely as she realized she did so in front of her own mother. My finger was soaked from her squirting.

“That was beautiful,” I said softly to June.

“Stop that!”

“Who are you to speak?” I asked. “You referred to your own daughter as Cum Whore!”

Mrs. Rodgers didn’t have an answer for that.

“Do you love your daughter, Mrs. Rodgers?”

“What?”

“It was a simple question. Do you love your daughter?”

“I love my daughter…”

“How much? As much as any mother loves her daughter?”

“Certainly…”

I turned to June, and said, “Get me hard, June. Just use your hands.”

June nodded, and started to pull down my zipper.

“Stop that, June!” Mrs. Rodgers demanded.

My pants were undone, and I lifted my butt so that June could slide my pants and boxers down.

“June, do you love your mother?” I asked.

June answered, “Yes, Master.”

“Do you think she loves you?”

Without hesitation, June answered, “Yes, Master.”

I was hard now, the confrontation already having me excited. “Let’s see how much your mother loves you.”

I suddenly picked June up by the waist. It wasn’t an easy maneuver. Luckily, June didn’t fight me, despite the fact that I hadn’t warned her about this.

I moved June so that her crotch was right above my hard penis. “Mrs. Rodgers, your daughter is a virgin. She planned on saving herself for her wedding day, unlike you. Archy and June gave me her virginity to do with as I please. I’m now offering it to you. Say the word and I will let go of her waist, and she’ll impale herself on me.”

“NO!” Mrs. Rodgers was horrified.

“June isn’t heavy, but I’m not Superman.”

“Put her down!” June’s mother demanded.

I moved June body slightly downward toward my penis. I felt June react as the movement was very obvious where she was headed.

“NO! NO!” Mrs. Rodgers cried.

“You have two choices. I drop June, and then I marry her, because she wanted to save her virginity for her wedding night. I will find a justice of the peace to make us legal, as she’s of the age of consent, and I already have consent from my parents. Second choice, you accept that she is here of her own free will, and leave us alone.”

“You’re joking!”

Once again, I lowered June slightly.

“NO! Wait!”

Mrs. Rodgers looked in my eyes and saw nothing but cold, hard determination.

“I’m getting tired, Mrs. Rodgers.”

Slowly, Mrs. Rodgers got up. She looked at me with pleading in her eyes, but I think she realized that she hadn’t been nice with me, so I had no incentive to be nice to her.

“Will you let her down?” June’s mother asked.

“Down or off?” I asked.

“Off, dammit!”

“Will you admit that she is here of her own free will, and that you don’t have anything to justify a charge of rape?”

“Yes, dammit!”

I turned to June. “Please go to the kitchen.”

June’s mother watched her nude daughter walk past her into the kitchen.

The two of us stared each other down for a few silent minutes without saying a word.

“What kind of monster are you?” June’s mother finally asked.

“I’m not a monster. I’m a guy in love with your daughter,” I said. “She’s six months shy of being an adult, and she’d rather love her mother than resent her mother for the rest of her life.”

I turned to where June was standing at the entrance to the kitchen. “Is what I just said true?”

“Yes, Master,” June answered, nodding.

Mrs. Rodgers seemed quite mystified. “Who are you?”

“Jim Crittenhouse. I’m a good friend of your daughter’s and Archy Jonas.”

“Archy would never…”

“Never what?” Archy said, standing quietly in the doorway where he was for the last fifteen minutes.

“Archy! How could you…”

“Jim told you, he’s my friend, and he’s June’s. I can tell you truthfully that he loves June very much and June loves him as well. Isn’t that what matters?”

“But…”

“But nothing,” Archy said, interrupting June’s mother. “If you forbid June from seeing him, then you’re also forbidding her from seeing me. I know June, and she’s a very determined girl. She’ll obey you until the day of her eighteenth birthday, at which time she’ll move away from you. Is that what you want?”

June’s mother stared at Archy, and then moved her attention to me. As Archy said his lines, I had zipped up my pants. Once again, there was silence for a few minutes.

“June?” Mrs. Rodgers called out.

June looked at me, and I nodded slightly.

June answered, “Yes, mom?”

“Is what Archy and Jim say true? If I forbid you, you’ll just wait until you’re eighteen?”

“Yes, mom.”

I saw defeat in the woman’s eyes.

“Archy?” I said.

“Yeah, Jim?”

“I’m sorry you had to be a part of this. Can you come back later?”

“Yeah, Jim.”

“Thanks.”

The linebacker exited the apartment, shutting the door behind him.

I stood up and straightened my pants. “May I show you something, Mrs. Rodgers?”

Completely cowed, June’s mother didn’t protest. I went toward the wall in the living room. “June’s never seen this,” I said, pointing to two hooks in the floor about three and a half feet apart.

“What are they?” June’s mother asked.

“You’ll need to purchase two pairs of handcuffs. The idea is that you strip completely naked, and then you cuff your right wrist to your right leg. Then you slip the chain over this hook and press this little button.” I pressed the button, and the hook snapped closed. “You do the same with the left wrist and your left ankle and this hook.”

“Huh?”

“That will leave your legs spread and your ass in the air. I’ll have somebody rub KY jelly into your ass. Then, a black hood will be placed over your face. After that, you’ll have to wait. You will know you are naked and exposed, and you won’t know who will see you in this position. The wait will seem endless. All of a sudden, you will feel hands on your waist… and then…”

Mrs. Rodgers shuddered as my words hammered home.

“It’s your choice,” I explained. “I’m not forcing you to come over. Your daughter made her own decision to come here. It’s not just about sex, by the way. I do love your daughter.”

“I’ll do no such thing!” Mrs. Rodgers hissed.

“Perhaps,” I said, shrugging. “I would be willing to bet you a hundred dollars that your pussy is wet and you’re flowing like a faucet—and I haven’t even touched you! You are not only considering it, you are trying to figure where you can get two pairs of handcuffs.”

“No!” June’s mother denied it, mostly to herself.

“When was the last time somebody other than you stroked your sopping cunt to a delicious orgasm?” I asked.

“No!” Mrs. Rodgers’ voice was getting weaker.

“Of course, if your timing is wrong, like, say, if June has already giving me one of her mind blowing orgasms, then I’d have to have somebody—say, Archy, or maybe Camille with a strap-on—take my place. You won’t mind, though. You’ll have that hood on your face and you can fantasize that it’s somebody else… like me.”

“No!” I didn’t hear any conviction in her voice.

“You can leave, now.”

“Please!”

I didn’t answer her at all.

Mrs. Rodgers looked at me for nearly five minutes before she realized that she was dismissed.

After she silently left the apartment, I shut the door behind her.

* * *

“Wally, tell me when Mrs. Rodgers’ car leaves the security gate.”

“Will do, sir.”

June ran over to my arms. “I never thought in a million years that my mom would agree to it.”

“She probably won’t. But she’ll masturbate a lot to the idea that the possibility is always there.”

“Where are those hooks?” June demanded.

I showed June. I also showed a similar pair on the ceiling above her. “Kristen used to have a linen mural stretched here. She took it down to get it cleaned.”

“It’s a setup?” June laughed hysterically.

I shrugged. “You know your mother better than me.”

June shook her head. “You seemed to know her perfectly tonight.”

“The car has departed, sir,” Wally said.

“Thank you, Wally!”

I turned to June and said, “I would never have taken you that way.”

June nodded. “I know.”

“I felt you shiver when I was holding you.”

“Part of me was hoping that you’d do it, Oogie.”

I was appalled. “Why?”

“I told you at the villa,” June answered. “I want you to be my first. I want you to teach me everything about fucking, just as you are teaching me everything about being with another person. I want you to teach me to be the perfect lover for Archy.”

I stared at June for a few minutes. “I’ll teach you,” I said, finally.

There was a look of disbelief in June’s eyes as I said that.

I added, “I won’t take your virginity, but if you want, I will show you, along with Kristen and Lynette, everything that you need to know.”

June looked disappointed. I did know that what Archy told me at the villa was correct. June was going to be hard to please after a while.

“I love you,” June said.

“I love you, you little scamp!” I said, trying to break the serious mood.

June kissed me lovingly and for a few minutes. When we parted, I asked, “Did you really leave your clothes with Archy?”

“Kristen said I could wear anything of hers that fits.”

I looked at June and decided that I liked her this way. “Let me go to the bathroom, June. Can you call Vaughn’s and tell Kristen and everybody that the coast is clear? The number is on the pad next to the phone.”

“Sure thing.”

Before I left, I asked, “By the way, June. How good are you on the pool table?”

“Huh?”

I smiled to myself and entered the bathroom.

* * *

I was licking between June’s legs. June was lying on top of the pool table, her legs spread as wide as she could.

I heard the door open behind me. Kristen said, “There you are!”

I pulled my head up for a bit and said, “Hey, Kris!”

“Hello, June!” Kristen called.

June lifted her head a bit. “Hi, Kris!”

I turned to my true love and pointed to June, who was writhing on top of the table. “June’s pretty good on the pool table.”

“Archy will be here in five minutes. I think he wanted me to give you guys notice.”

“That’s all right,” June said, sitting up. “I just received three mind blowing orgasms. That’s four since I got here!”

Kristen looked at me and mouthed, “Only four?”

I shrugged. June and I preferred slow and steady; Kristen preferred machine-gun multiple ones.

“June, I have a surprise for you!” I said, as I pulled June off the table and carried her in my arms.

June squealed in delight as she saw our new communal shower stall. She made it to five before Kristen and I had her properly cleaned off and dried.

Chapter 24—Graduation and Marla Returns

Though we had our fling,

I just never would suspect a thing.

Til that little bell began to ring,

In my head, in my head...

But I tried to run,

Though I knew it wouldn’t help me none.

Cause I couldn’t ever love no one,

Or so I said!

But my feelings for you,

Were just something I never knew,

Til I saw the light in your eyes.

Todd Rundgren

I Saw The Light

As expected, Camille gave the valedictory address at commencement. Since the speech needed to be cleared by the Principal’s office, it was your normal, everyday speech about appreciating the past twelve years, looking forward to college, and life afterward.

The highlight came when Camille reached the last lines of her speech:

And now, we find ourselves at that crossroads. There are many directions that we can go, and only one is right for any of us. And when we look back at this day, we can remember the one thing that we will all remember with pride and joy… the moment when we were able to throw these up in the air!

Instead of throwing her graduation cap up in the air, as she indicated in her speech notes, Camille instead grabbed her gown, and pulled it up over her head.

Underneath the gown was… Camille. Nothing else.

Loud cheers, hoots, and whistles greeted Camille’s flash. Before anybody could do anything, the gown came back down, almost exactly as it had been before, her arms in the correct sleeves.

Later on, I would find out that there were some noises made about rescinding Camille’s diploma due to her scandalous display during the commencement, but I think that Mr. Yank was secretly amused by Camille’s antics. The coup de grace was when Camille gave him an itemized list of similar events that happened without repercussions in the past, including having a streaker interrupt the ceremony the previous year (the fact that Camille had supposedly been that streaker wasn’t mentioned on Camille’s list). In the end, Camille got her diploma without any problem.

After the commencement, Camille, Lynette, Patty, Toby, Wendy, Gerry, Roy, Jill, Archy, June, Kristen, and I had a party at our apartment.

For this party, we used the standard cheerleader rules: all sex was all right, as long as it was consensual and if multiple couples were involved, they needed to have the approval of all parties concerned. There was a half bottle of wine distributed to each couple (Camille and Lynette being considered a couple), which Kristen had made with a special “CONGRATULATIONS CLASS OF 1975!” celebratory label. We figured a half bottle of wine per couple would allow celebration but still avoid drunken carousing.

Kristen gave Lynette her freedom for the party, and I specifically told Archy and June that the guest bedroom was theirs for the night and for up to a week, if they wanted it. Kristen made a phone call and found out that the villa on Lake Michigan was available for the week, and when she told everybody, we all agreed it was a wonderful idea, so Kristen reserved it.

Before we left the apartment, Jackie and Maria visited us with their dates. Those two were going to be heading next year’s cheerleaders, with Jackie replacing Lynette as head cheerleader, and Maria replacing Camille as co-captain.

They were “inducted” to their positions by Lynette and Camille where Jackie and Maria were ordered to earn their status as “head” cheerleaders by performing head on all party members, male or female, that wanted to audition them.

Kristen and Camille both asked me if I was going to at least “try” Jackie. I turned them down. This got me a few strange looks, but neither one of them decided to push it.

I was able to spend a few moments alone with Patty, who looked ravishing in a light purple dress that she borrowed from Kristen. “That outfit looks great on you,” I said.

“Thanks, Jim,” Patty said, giving me a warm smile.

We made idle chit chat while Toby was out of sight. Patty knew my unasked question. “He’s in the bedroom with Maria.”

“You don’t mind?” I asked.

Patty shrugged. “We’re not really romantically involved. It would be stupid of me to get jealous over Toby.”

I laughed.

“I saw Kristen and Cammy try to get you to go with Jackie,” Patty said, her face smiling.

“It’s not my thing,” I said.

This elicited a huge laugh from Patty, which drew almost everybody’s attention, since Patty wasn’t normally somebody to burst out like that. “Since the Senior Weekend, people would think that you’d be the last person to turn Jackie down.”

“I didn’t turn her down,” I corrected Patty.

“No,” Patty admitted, looking thoughtful.

A couple of minutes were passed in silence. When Patty thought that people’s attention to us had waned, she said, quietly, “You turned Kris and Cammy down.”

“It’s not the same thing…” I started to say.

“I know, Jim,” Patty interrupted. “It would be different if Jackie asked you herself.”

I shrugged. I knew that Patty knew the way I felt, and could almost read my mind, so I didn’t have much to hide from her. “I probably wouldn’t do it today even if she asked.”

“Sex is special to you,” Patty observed. “I knew that when I saw you in the lingerie store last year.”

This resulted in a laugh from me. “You knew something that I didn’t know, Patty. At the time, I thought sex was something cheap. At least, with my… you know… I could have it at any time.”

Patty nodded, knowing about my magical tickets. “In your own way, Jim, you opened my eyes. I was… I guess I was angry at all guys. I didn’t trust anybody. Then you came out of nowhere and showed me that I could have fun… that I could… you know.”

This conversation was getting uncomfortable for me. Patty had always attributed the fact that she finally got over her rape two years previous from my taking advantage of Camille, Wendy, and her nine months ago. In private, I tried to work out what it was or how I managed to do that for Patty. I had always figured that it was a side-effect of her being given a ticket.

Patty put her arms around my shoulder and started to walk away, dragging me with her. We walked out of the apartment and into my practice room… the one place that was sacrosanct in the apartment.

Once we were inside, Patty said, “I can’t tell you how much you have done for me, Jim. I’ve tried in the past, but the words don’t seem to fit. You think it was the tickets, and maybe the tickets helped, but it was you.”

I shook my head. “I really don’t understand, Patty.”

Patty looked into my eyes and finally nodded. “You don’t. Perhaps some day you will.”

I didn’t answer Patty.

Patty didn’t say anything more. She simply kissed me.

Surprised by Patty’s action, I tried to pull away, but Patty seemed to expect that and pulled me back. Her kiss wasn’t overtly sexy—we didn’t exchange tongues as I did with June, Camille, and Kristen. Despite that, Patty’s kiss was totally erotic to me.

All too soon, Patty pulled away.

I looked at the red head, my mouth was open in shock.

“I shall forever be your friend, Jim.”

The way that Patty said that, I had a distinct feeling that I would never be lonely for the rest of my life.

* * *

Back upstairs, I saw Jackie mingling around. She was topless and wearing only panties. I have always admired the nude form—well, ever since I first saw Merry’s not quite a year ago—and smiled at Jackie.

“Hey, Jim,” Jackie said, not the least embarrassed at her nudity.

“Hi, Jackie.”

“One of these days, maybe I’ll beat Cammy’s record.”

I knew that Jackie was talking about her cousin’s legendary sexual exploits, and I also knew that Jackie said it in jest. However, a part of me felt a bit angry that she would talk about my friend that way. I decided to let my anger pass, and after a moment or two, I said, “You seem a lot different than you did back at the villa. Is that what happens when they make you the leader of the cheerleaders?”

Jackie’s face turned serious. “I was a bit of a prude at the party because of my EX-boyfriend, Steve.” Jackie nearly spat the syllable “EX.”

I nodded, not knowing what to say.

“Steve’s the kind of person that if you give him any kind of opportunity, he’d end up treating a girl like a whore. I didn’t realize that about him until we were already at the party. I apologized to Kristen about the beer, you know.”

Mentioning the beer started to get me angry again. I took a deep breath to maintain my composure.

“Jim, I’m very sorry for Steve’s behavior at your party. You and Kristen spent a lot of money for us to have a good time, and the one rule you imposed on us was pissed all over by Steve, and I guess myself.”

There was a question that had been bothering me for a while. “Did you know about his beer?”

“Not at first,” Jackie said. “His friend Donny was around when we were packing the limo. Donny must have smuggled the cases into the limo when Steve was asking the driver to help him find one of his bags, which we never found. I didn’t notice the beer until we were already at the villa. I told Steve it wasn’t a good idea, but he ignored me. I told Kristen as soon as I saw her at the villa.”

I nodded, remembering that Kristen had informed me of the beer, but she hadn’t thought that the amount involved would spoil the party. I didn’t want to make a scene at the villa, so I also decided to ignore the blatant abuse of our hospitality. Unfortunately, it turned out that it gave the opportunity for Steve to simply drink beer after beer all the time we were there, since everybody else obeyed our “no alcohol” rule.

I forced a smile. “That’s over and done with.”

Jackie hugged me tightly. “You are such a nice person, Jim. I can see what all the cheerleaders see in you.”

I hugged Jackie, and felt my anger wash away.

* * *

We invited Jackie and Maria to the villa, along with their boyfriends, with the proviso that any boyfriend needed to pass muster between Lynette, Camille, Archy, Kristen, and me. As it happened, both boyfriends passed muster with flying colors, both having a great sense of humor and a great party attitude without the need to take things too far.

At the villa, we reinstated the Twelve parties, but we just celebrated them with everybody nude, and everybody doing anything, as long as it was consensual. The midnight hot tub sessions added one extra rule: partners couldn’t neck, allowing people to get to know the others better.

Lynette and June were Pussy Slave and Cunt Whore only on the last day of the holiday, although both wore nothing at all at most times. In fact, the nudity started slowly, with Lynette, June, Camille, and Kristen being the only ones the first day, and by the end of the weekend, everybody was comfortable enough that nudity was nearly universal.

It was amazing how close everybody got during these parties. Even the guys were starting to feel comfortable being nude around other guys.

Since Kristen hired limousines to take all of us to the villa, we expected limos to take us back, but we were all surprised when it turned out that Kristen instead hired three taxis to take us to an air strip where we rode a small jet to the air field just outside our town, where limousines were waiting for us. Kristen knew how to do things in style.

* * *

Kristen showed me first class tickets for the two of us to travel to Boston to visit her brother. Along with us, she also purchased tickets for Camille and Lynette. June was also invited, but she declined, saying that she was renewing her relationship with her mother, something that started with the confrontation her mother provoked with me at the apartment. It wasn’t easy for June, as I made quite a strongly negative impression on her mother, and June was somewhat caught in the middle.

When Will met us at Logan, it was as if we were in a repeat of a television episode where two long lost lovers met in the airport after years and years of separation, with Will and Camille as the star-crossed lovers.

Kristen made reservations at the Ritz-Carlton for Lynette and the two of us to share a room. Will and Camille went to Cambridge and spent most of their time together without the three of us.

The exception was Sunday, July 4. The Esplanade was a madhouse, and it got crowded quite quickly. Kristen looked around and found some buildings on the other side of Storrow Drive with patios and balconies with a good view of the hatch shell, where the Boston Pops would be playing their annual concert. She visited each building until she found one amenable to allowing us up on a balcony for a wad of one hundred dollar bills that Kristen handed the manager. She gave him another five hundred dollars, and asked if the manager could arrange to get some fresh grilled fish from Legal Sea Foods delivered to our balcony.

We had what must have been the greatest view of the Charles River and we could actually hear the Boston Pops. Even if we couldn’t, the manager provided us with a television, and a local station was carrying the concert live (it was eerie with the television sound on, since there was a noticeable delay). The five of us couldn’t think of any way to spend the a fourth of July any better.

* * *

When I got back to Illinois, I found that Mr. Proilet signed me up for some advanced music classes at the community college not too far away from where I lived. Kristen hired a limo service to drive me back and forth between the apartment and the college. I was able to take about ten college credits during that time. It was nowhere near the cake walk that my junior and high school music classes were. I actually found myself learning things I hadn’t known, and I enjoyed the courses, despite the hard effort that the classes required.

Kristen also attended classes at the community college, focusing on business courses. She explained to me that she disliked having to rely on others to maintain the money that was now hers. I convinced her to take a general music theory course with me, and the two of us got to see each other at that time, as well as at home, but not as much as I anticipated that we would have spent back when I was looking forward to the end of school.

I spent time with my own family, and found Merry coming into her own. She grew up a bit, and I noticed that her girlish charm, which she could still affect, was slowly being replaced by a woman who was reaching maturity.

Merry still stared at me when she thought I wasn’t looking. I had mixed feelings about this, actually. Merry wasn’t related to me by blood, but I knew that her father was very protective of Merry still. I remember that I was able to escape from under my mother’s thumb at about the age she was at this point, and I was thinking that maybe I could help her with her father, although I wasn’t sure I would go as far as to expend a couple of tickets doing so.

However, one obvious thing was that Merry didn’t have the drive I had. She really liked to have fun, which wasn’t a bad thing, but didn’t seem to have a focus for her life, like I did with music. Now, I didn’t think that everybody needed to have a single-minded pursuit of any one specific thing, but I saw more of a carefree attitude in Merry than I did in anybody else that I associated with, with the possible exception of June.

Archy would be leaving soon on a football scholarship to Purdue. He needed to get there early for training camp. In addition, Wendy was moving to the west coast, enrolling in UCLA. I also found out through Sherry that her cousin Dale, Kristen’s old nemesis, was attending there as well.

Lynette gave up a dance scholarship on Long Island, NY to attend the local community college, mostly to stay close to Kristen who was also taking courses there during the summer. It was becoming obvious that Lynette would be a long term relationship with Kristen and myself. Lynette was becoming a regular fixture in my bed, although I only fucked her once, at Kristen’s request, so that Kristen could taste my semen in Lynette’s pussy afterward.

Lynette and I got along, although my feelings for her were much different than the feelings I had for June. I considered Lynette as Kristen’s special playmate, as June was mine. The big difference was that I knew my time with June would eventually come to an end the day she left for college in Ohio or Indiana to be closer to Archy.

Patty was also attending the community college. Kristen convinced both Lynette and Patty to switch their majors to business. In addition, Lynette would minor in education, and Patty’s minor would be art.

Camille hadn’t told anybody until she was ready to leave that she got a scholarship to Brown University, which is in Providence, an hour’s drive from Boston. She intended to get a medial degree. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination that the proximity to Will Swift may have had something to do with her decision of where she would attend. However, Camille actually received scholarship offers to a lot of places, including the esteemed Harvard, which would have been closer to Will’s Cambridge apartment. Camille investigated the two schools and thought that Brown would be a better place for her to go.

A lot of my friends were leaving, and thinking about that sometimes made me feel a bit sad. I knew that I still had an “instant in” with the cheerleaders that remained at the high school; for that matter, I was already starting to get quite popular with most of the people in my grade and the new senior class. Still, I felt a sense of loss, and wondered why things couldn’t stay the same way forever.

* * *

One thing that I was dreading was meeting with Marla LaGruzio, a girl I mistreated last year.

The word “mistreat” wasn’t that accurate a word, but it was the way I felt about my behavior toward Marla.

I used a Lucky Ticket to have Marla perform oral sex on me. It was only one occasion, and she didn’t seem to have any resentment over it. In fact, she asked to see me again on her own before she needed to head back to California, where she lived.

Marla’s cousin, Doreen, was in my school and was also in my grade, although we didn’t share any classes together. Doreen gave me Marla’s phone number and address. I was too timid to call Marla, because I didn’t know if I’d freeze up when I tried to say something.

I felt quite guilty over my actions with Marla, and she wrote to tell me when she would be visiting her Aunt Gin, Doreen’s mother. Marla and Doreen were about the same age as I was, give or take six months, and at sixteen, Marla expected to be able to have some freedom to go out on dates.

I already wrote to Marla about Kristen, and Marla seemed to be interested in the woman who actually managed to snag me. At our age, relationships that lasted nearly a year weren’t particularly common.

Kristen, of course, knew about Marla. I was quite truthful to Kristen about everything I ever did with another woman, and also just about everything that I ever did with the tickets.

I thought back to that day in the park when my friend Jack and I met Marla and Doreen. I just figured out some interesting uses for the tickets, and as such, I oozed a lot more confidence than I normally did at that time.

You would think that a guy who participated in orgies and had a steady girlfriend as well as two “slaves” would be immune to shyness. That wasn’t the case with me, however. Put me in a concert hall with a conductor’s stick, a trumpet, or a piano, and I have no problems taking control. Put me face to face with a girl who thinks I’m “interesting” and it is quite another thing.

The weird exception to this was how I handled June’s mother, Mrs. Rodgers. Instead of being timid, I seemed to sense that I was the one in charge despite her bluster and bluff.

My summer class schedule kept most days busy for me, but a lot of my nights were available. Even so, I made my date with Marla for Wednesday, since I only had one class on Thursday afternoon, which would allow me to do any homework that needed to be done the next morning.

Kristen noticed my nervousness. Her idea was for us to take Marla to Vaughn’s, and afterward take her back to our apartment and just talk. When Kristen suggested June and Lynette be around as well, I vetoed that idea: Marla might be scandalized by their costumes at the apartment.

“That’s silly, Jim. They’re here just about every day. Marla should see the real you.”

“Please, Kristen. Let me do things my way. I haven’t told Marla too much about my personal life with you. I really don’t want to shock her.”

“You’re not even going to tell her tonight?” Kristen asked, surprised.

“I didn’t think it might come up, actually.”

“Let me feel her out. We girls can usually figure out how another one of us would react. Is that all right?”

“Fine,” I said, sighing.

Kristen gave Lynette some money for June and her to have a night out on the town. They were to come back home no earlier than ten.

After the two girls left, I asked Kristen why we couldn’t go out on a night on the town.

Kristen had an immediate answer. “You’re meeting a girl with whom you had a sexual relationship, albeit a short one, and you’re bringing your current steady along. Dinner and talking is best.”

Kristen and I picked up Marla at Doreen’s house.

When Doreen’s mom answered the door, she smiled at me. “The world famous Oogie Woogie!” She turned to Kristen and said, “You must be Kristen Swift.”

I smiled. “Yeah, that’s us.”

Marla looked pretty and just a little older than I remembered her. We made small talk before we left. I noticed that Mrs. Peterson—Marla’s aunt—didn’t give any time limit for this date.

Marla was quiet in the car, and I helped her out of the back seat when we got to Vaughn’s.

“Hi, Kristen; hi, Jim. Who’s your guest?” the manager said as he greeted us.

“This is Marla LaGruzio, from California.”

“Pleased to meet you, Marla.”

The manager took us to our secluded table and handed us our menus.

“So, Marla, what do you think of our town?” Kristen asked.

“It’s interesting. I was really most interested in seeing Jim again. Doreen has been keeping me up with all the gossip.”

“Gossip?” I asked. Doreen and I hardly interacted.

“Doreen calls them ‘Oogie Stories,’” Marla said.

Kristen laughed while I groaned.

“Is it true that you have two slaves and throw orgies at your house and at expensive villas on the lake?”

Oh, dear.

Kristen liked Marla immediately. She was herself and very secure in unfamiliar surroundings.

It was natural for anybody to like Kristen, and I wondered how I could have hated her so much just a year ago. Surprisingly, I didn’t see any jealousy exhibited by either girl.

I don’t remember what I had, probably my usual, which is one of the burgers the place specializes in.

Marla and Kristen refused the Belly Buster dessert, and we ended up back in the apartment. The two girls chatted all during dinner and the trip back as if they were old friends.

When we got to the apartment, Marla gulped. “This is the Den of Iniquity?”

Kristen laughed. “Is that what people are calling it?”

Marla blushed and nodded.

“We should get a sign, Jim.”

I spoke for the first time since we left Vaughn’s. “Knowing you, Goddess, you’ll make it a neon one!”

“Ooh!” Kristen sighed.

Maybe my attempt at humor was going to backfire.

We went into the apartment.

Marla seemed genuinely surprised and just a bit disappointed that our place was just a regular apartment.

“What were you expecting, Marla?” Kristen asked. “Torture chambers, whips on the walls?”

Marla laughed. “Well, not really.”

“Do you want to see our dungeon?” Kristen asked.

“Huh?”

“Kris is talking about the downstairs,” I said. “We have three rooms set up. We also have space that used to be a garage, but we haven’t figured out what we’re going to do with it.”

Marla said, “I’d love to see your dungeon!”

Kristen took the two of us downstairs. We went into the first room, which was my practice room.

Since this was “my” room, I gave Marla the tour. “Those instrument cases are mine. The room is soundproof so that if I wish to doodle on the trumpet or whatever in the middle of the night, it doesn’t wake people up.”

“Don’t listen to him, Marla,” Kristen said. “The room is soundproof so that the screaming doesn’t alert the police!”

I rolled my eyes.

Marla pointed toward the back at what looked to her like a table with a blanket draped over it. “What’s that?”

“A vivisection table!” Kristen giggled.

I pulled the blanket off and showed Marla my electric piano. “The blanket keeps dust off it.”

“Yeah,” Kristen said. “A bit too small for vivisection.”

After the studio, Kristen led Marla to the playroom.

“This room isn’t soundproof, for those that don’t mind screaming.”

Marla knew that Kristen was teasing her now. “I like playing pool.”

“Kristen did, too, until she played against Camille.”

“Oh?”

“Camille is a pool hustler that won thousands of my hard earned dollars, as well as my virtue.”

“Hard earned?” I asked. “Virtue?”

Kristen ignored my questions. “I’ll have you know that he had his way with a virginal cheerleader on that very table not too long ago!”

“Virginal cheerleader? Isn’t that an oxymoron?” Marla asked.

I laughed. “Actually, she was. She still is.”

“Huh? Kristen was kidding, right?”

“Kristen was talking about June. If you’ve heard the gossip, then you should know the story about the virgin cheerleader.”

“The rumors said you took her virginity.”

“Well, I didn’t take it. She gave it to me for safekeeping.”

Marla looked confused.

Kristen looked at me, impressed. “Interesting way to put that, Jim.”

“Thank you, Goddess.”

Marla looked confused, but let the comment pass. “I thought you said there were three rooms down here.”

“There are,” I said, wondering why Kristen had avoided her favorite one.

“Want to see it?” Kristen asked.

From her tone of voice, I knew that Kristen had some sort of agenda. It wasn’t too difficult for me to read her mind. I gave Kristen a look that asked her, “Are you sure?” but Kristen seemed determined.

“This way,” Kristen said, leading Marla out of the playroom.

The next room was our communal shower. Kristen didn’t turn on the light as we entered.

“There’s an echo here,” Marla said, noticing the acoustics.

“Surprise!” Kristen said, flipping the light switch.

Marla saw where she was and laughed. She stopped laughing when she realized that Kristen was down to bra and panties.

In five seconds, Kristen was nude. “Nothing like a hot shower, Marla!”

Kristen turned on one of the showers and started to drench herself. “Come on and join us!”

Marla stared at Kristen, disbelief on her face.

“Come on, the water’s warm!”

I didn’t want to spook Marla, so I didn’t take off my clothes, even though I knew that rubbing soap on Kristen’s body was one of her favorite activities that didn’t include my sperm in her mouth.

Marla looked from Kristen to me, and then I saw her start to undress. She saw a place that was convenient for storing clothes, and slowly undressed.

I still had memories of Marla’s long, dark brown hair, which was longer than last year. Now, it hung down to the middle of her back.

Marla was getting naked without my having to give her a ticket!

When she was completely nude, Marla selected a shower on the other side of me and turned it on. I was now standing underneath a silent shower, with two lovely nude women on either side of me.

I didn’t need to be told what to do. I went over to one of the dressing nooks and got undressed quickly. As I turned, I got a bit embarrassed at my nudity, but realized that Marla already saw my cock a year ago, up close and personal.

I took the shower between the two girls.

“This shower isn’t quite right,” Kristen said, turning off her shower. She moved over to where I was and tested my spray. “Ah, perfect!”

I took the soap from its holder and started rubbing Kristen’s body the way I know she loves being caressed with soap.

“You should try the water from this shower, Marla!” Kristen said, inviting Marla over.

Marla smiled at Kristen’s offer and moved over to where we were playing.

“Can you soap me?” Marla asked, softly.

It was one of the sexiest requests I heard.

“Of course, Marla,” I answered.

“Will you take my virginity on the pool table the same way you did that cheerleader’s?”

Kristen started laughing. “I think you have the wrong impression. June was a virgin when Jim took her on the pool table. She’s still a virgin.”

“Huh?” Marla said, confused. “I thought she gave him her virginity.”

“For safe keeping,” I said. “She gets it back on her wedding night for Archy Jonas, her boyfriend, to take for real.”

Marla didn’t seem to understand.

“She gave me permission to take her virginity at any time, at my discretion. My decision was to not take it.”

“But Kristen said you took her on the table…”

“You took me under that willow tree last year, Marla.”

“Oh!” Marla said, suddenly understanding. “You mean, your sex slave is a virgin and will remain one?”

“She will remain one if I have anything to do with it, and she’s not my sex slave.”

“Jim only threatened June’s virginity once,” Kristen said.

“Huh?”

Kristen described, in excruciating detail my encounter with June’s mother. I made slight corrections in the details, but Kristen had the story pretty accurate.

“I knew you were quite forward last year. I never realized…”

Kristen laughed. “You were Jim’s second experience. His first was the day before. All his bravado was just a show.”

“Hey!” I said. “That’s personal!”

“You’re lathering soap in Marla’s crotch and you are accusing me of being personal?”

“Um…” I said, not having an answer for that.

“Jim talks a good game, Marla,” Kristen said. “I think Jim would have kittens if June’s mother actually showed up here as Ass Whore. I think he’d tell security that he wasn’t here.”

I looked at Kristen sharply, but realized she was right. I made a mental note to consider that option in that event.

Marla kissed me. “You’re so cute, Jim…”

Marla paused. “Oh, Kristen… I’m sorry… I mean, he’s yours…”

“Marla, he has his hands between your legs, and you think that I’m going to mind if you kiss him? I’m going to expect you to give as good and as thorough a washing to Jim as he’s giving you. If you want, I will help you give a special part of him a spit shine.”

“You really don’t mind? You aren’t just making up stories about the virgin cheerleader?”

I raised three fingers. “Scout’s honor, Marla. June and Lynette will be here around ten. In fact, we should have told you that before we brought you in here. They usually don’t wear clothes on the property. If they see the Camaro in the driveway and don’t find us in the parking lot, they will come looking for us.”

“You really have two slaves?” Marla asked, her breathing was starting to get heavy as my fingers worked their magic.

Kristen signaled me to move Marla so that she could help me double team her.

“One is Pussy Slave, the other is Cunt Whore.”

“Which one is the virgin? Pussy Slave?”

“Hardly,” I laughed. “Lynette has probably experienced more male and female lovers than you can imagine. If you think that’s a big number, then Camille, who may or may not come over with Lynette and June, has had probably up to five times that amount. Camille lost count, but I’m pretty sure that Lynette has a diary with names that she has been offered a fortune for.”

“Camille?”

“She used to be my baby sitter,” I explained. “Actually, her sister was, but she tagged along. Lynette and Camille were captain and co-captain of the cheerleading squad this year. Part of their job was to offer their sexual services to any athlete that felt a bit frisky who didn’t have a girlfriend, or who did have a girlfriend but wasn’t that kind of girl. Having those two around prevented overdoses of testosterone that, a couple of years ago, resulted in the rape of our best friend.”

“Your best friend?”

“Patty Nadal,” I said. “She was my first regular lover, who came to my house in the mornings to give me oral sex after our first night with two of her friends in a park.”

“I’m getting confused,” Marla said.

“Something I did unintentionally seemed to reawaken the sexual side of Patty that she had thought was killed after her rape. Her way of thanking me was to come to my room every morning. Those actions made me have some frank talk with my mother about sex.”

“You have been pretty active!” Marla said.

“Actually, between my first experience, you, and then Patty, I think it took four or five days tops. It took a few weeks for my mother to believe that I wasn’t a dope dealer that was using drugs to get what I wanted from pretty girls.”

My story was interrupted by a mostly silent orgasm that Marla experienced from my fingers on her clit, and Kristen’s on her nipples.

Marla caught her breath after a few moments. “I always wondered why I felt so attracted to you back then. I still do, actually. I know why I’m here tonight, but last year I was acting as if I was somebody completely different.”

This was the part of the night with Marla that I was dreading. I knew that any second, I would blurt out about the tickets and how I was a total asshole.

“Jim found a way to get girls to do sexual things. The girls would think they were doing things on their own when they were doing what he wanted. He even did it with me, but after he did it with me, he realized that he loved me, and he discovered that it’s much better to do things naturally.”

Marla and I looked at Kristen. Kristen came up with a great way to describe what I did without revealing the existence of the tickets, and I was shocked. Marla was shocked for another reason.

“Is that why just about every letter I’ve received from you has an apology in it?”

I nodded, unwilling to open my mouth, afraid of what I would say.

“That’s so sweet!” Marla said. “You mean, you’ve been apologizing all this time for the willow tree?”

“That, and standing you up at the mall before you left to go home.”

“I thought it was the mall, and was always confused about that. One apology would have sufficed. I’ve never been angry about the willow tree!”

“But I tricked you!” I said.

“I didn’t dislike what I did,” Marla said. “I did it before, you know. In fact, I even told you then.”

“I know, but when I realized… I mean… I thought I was a low form of life. A friend of mine—June’s boyfriend, in fact—told me that you need to stop a rapist or he will strike again. His mom is a rape counselor.”

Marla shook her head. “That is true in only some cases, Jim. My mom’s job has her working with prisons, and today, most prisons don’t live up with the name ‘Correctional Facility.’ They are there to punish, and to create even more violent criminals when people serve out their terms. Her crusade is to return the concept of rehabilitation into the prison system. It’s an uphill battle, because everybody always points to people such as Charles Manson or Richard Speck or some other monster that can never be rehabilitated. But for every one of them, there are hundreds or thousands that can be rehabilitated; people who don’t know any better or who never had any opportunity to make something of their life.”

Marla’s face became animated, and it was obvious that this subject was close to her heart. “You didn’t know any better, and you met Kristen, and realized the error of your ways. Let me make a few guesses, OK?”

“OK.”

“You told Kristen what you did, she didn’t discover it, right?”

“Right.” I didn’t see the point of this questioning.

“You realized that you were a bad boy, or worse. I think you used the term ‘rapist.’”

I nodded again.

“I bet you have sought out every one of your supposed victims and begged for forgiveness, right?”

“Um…”

Kristen interrupted. “He has. Every single one. I know, because he told me about every single one.”

I nodded.

“Does this sound like a serial rapist to you?” Marla asked.

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“I’m not saying that a person that commits a crime should go unpunished. If he is sorry, truly sorry, he can be rehabilitated, and that is what my mother crusades for, and I will join her when I get my law degree. The ones that can be rehabilitated should be allowed to do so, and they should be separated from the hardened criminals who have no desire to leave a life of crime. You are living proof that a single mistake should not make a person a criminal for life.”

“That’s fine, but…” I said, conceding Marla’s point.

“As far as the term ‘rape’ is concerned, Jim, let me tell you something more. You said your friend was raped. Patty, right?”

“Yeah.”

“How did she react to it?”

“The rape?” I asked, surprised by the turn of the question. “Patty withdrew into herself. She didn’t go on dates. She lost all of her friends except a couple of very close ones, but she never told anybody about what happened. She also told me that she couldn’t even orgasm by herself.”

Marla nodded. “She should have undergone counseling, as it sounds as if it really affected her. However, such things are typical, believe it or not. Now, think about the people you tricked. Did any of them react that way?”

“Um…”

“I know that I didn’t,” Marla said, her voice very animated. “I was curious why I did something with a person that was more or less a complete stranger, but you didn’t damage my psyche. I actually enjoyed what we did. Ask how many real rape victims enjoy the act. I’ll give you the answer: none. Those people that have rape fantasies think that they might enjoy being taken like that, but a rapist isn’t interested in their fantasies. He’s interested in domination and subjugating his victim. The actual sexual act is secondary. In fact, studies have shown that many rapists are impotent. Think about that!”

Marla was really passionate about this subject. However, I couldn’t find any problems with her logic.

Kristen said, softly, “Jim had a real problem when Tiny told him ‘once a rapist, always a rapist.’ It was Patty that comforted him then. She was the rape victim. She was also one of Jim’s victims, but her reaction to Jim tricking her was that he awakened her sexuality, as Jim said. I’ve talked with her. She’s the one that got Jim and me together. We’ve talked privately together many times, and Patty even knew the trick that Jim employed. She’s still thankful that Jim showed her that she could enjoy sex once again. She thought that part of her—that part of her that made her a female—was killed.”

“Patty should have told you what I just told you.”

“Patty’s home environment isn’t the same as yours,” Kristen said. “She couldn’t tell her mother, and she didn’t have anybody to turn to. As Jim said, her best friend was Camille, and it took until after Patty met Jim that Camille finally put all the pieces together. Jim already mentioned that Camille and Lynette came up with an interesting way to keep oversexed jocks in line, perhaps to prevent what happened to Patty to happen to one of their friends. It may or may not have worked, but Cammy and Lynette seemed to have fun doing it.”

Marla thought for a moment. “I can’t say that I’d adopt their solution in high schools nationwide, but it’s an interesting idea for a study. I can’t see such a study getting funding, but if somebody could set up some kind of controlled experiment…”

I couldn’t hold back my laughter now. “Yeah. A sex study that asks high school cheerleaders to fuck athletes. I don’t think that would go over very well.”

“Your friend Camille saw a problem, and she came up with a solution,” Marla said. “She sounds like a real go-getter. She also could just be a slut and used that as an excuse to explain her actions.”

“She’s both,” Kristen said. “She’s a slut, and she’ll tell you that she is. You name a sexual act, and she’s experienced it, and she can give you hints on how to enjoy it more. At the same time, she was the valedictorian of my class this year. At graduation, she lifted up her graduation robe and flashed everybody there… she wore nothing underneath!”

“Sounds like somebody very comfortable with her sexuality,” Marla said. “I don’t think I’ve met a cheerleader that was a valedictorian. That may be the effect of stereotypes, and it might be unfair, but Camille sounds like somebody that I’d like to meet.”

Kristen looked up at the clock in the dressing area. The clock was installed after we realized that showers were taking much longer than people were anticipating. “She might be here in a half hour. Lynette will definitely be here, and she was the captain of the cheerleaders. Both of them are blondes, but neither one is dumb. Lynette just loves sex.”

I added, “Lynette loves Kristen even more.”

Marla nodded. “You said she’s one of your slaves. How did you manage that?”

“Lynette was easy,” Kristen said. “She always had a crush on me, and confessed this to both of us. Jim gave permission for her and me to get together, and I realized when I was with her that this wasn’t just a roll in the hay. Lynette was seriously infatuated with me. I didn’t ask Jim, but I made Lynette an offer: she could come over here, but if she did so, she would be a slave to Jim and me. This is the reciprocity: she gets my love… my unadulterated love, and I’m not just talking sex here. In return, Jim isn’t left out. With us in charge, and the fact that Jim and I intend to marry, Lynette knows her place. If she decides to go elsewhere, then she’ll leave. We’ll miss her, but we’ll wish her a good life.”

Marla listened and thought a bit. “You’re playing with fire there, but since it’s voluntary on everybody’s part, then I can’t find fault with it. I can’t see me agreeing to such a bargain. What about the other one… June?”

I shook my head. “That one is a long story.”

Marla looked at the clock. “We have a half hour before your slaves arrive. Do we have time?”

I told Marla how June created her own phony Oogie Story as a way of making me seem more human.

“That’s truly funny!” Marla said. “That explains that confusing description of her virginity!”

“It also made me a target of every female that thought I was unattainable earlier this year when Kristen was keeping everybody away from me. Suddenly, I’m now available. In addition, a black classmate tried to hurt me. Archy took offense to that, I found out later, and that became yet another Oogie Story.”

Marla laughed: she heard that one, too. She really was one of my long distance fans.

I looked at the time. There were ten minutes until the girls would show up. “Kristen, may I have some time alone with Marla?”

Kristen looked at me oddly.

“I want to take her into the practice room. We’ll be upstairs in ten minutes. I promise to behave myself. Specifically, I’m not going to have sex with her. In addition, I won’t put my fingers or tongue between her legs.”

Kristen knew that I didn’t say I wouldn’t touch Marla, but couldn’t find any weasel room in what I promised.

“Give me ten minutes alone with Marla. I’ll bring her upstairs, au naturel, since she seems to be getting off on June and Lynette, and she really wants to see Cammy if she decides to show.”

“The practice room?” Kristen asked.

“I usually prefer my lovers to know that I’m a musician. Of everybody that has ever been with me, Marla is the only one that never heard me play.”

This explanation finally seemed to satisfy Kristen.

“Will you give me a kiss first?” Kristen asked.

“Of course,” I said. I moved over to Kristen, away from Marla, and kissed by lovely blonde Goddess.

When we broke the kiss, Kristen hugged me and whispered in my ear. “Did you write her a song?”

“No,” I said, truthfully.

“Oh,” Kristen said, a bit disappointed.

* * *

I toweled Marla off, and led her, still nude, into the practice room.

“Do you prefer electric or acoustic piano?” I asked her.

“I don’t know the difference.”

“You’re not tone deaf, are you?” I asked.

Marla broke out in song, “The sun will come out, tomorrow…”

“You sing beautifully,” I said, amazed. “Let’s use the upright piano.”

I pulled the bench out and opened the cover.

“I still need something. Oh, yeah. Come here, Marla.”

Marla came over, confusion on her face.

“Sit on my lap so my dick is on the outside of your crotch.”

Marla had some trouble understanding, so I helped her get into the same position I used with June when I played while she masturbated herself on my crotch.

“I’ve only done this once, with that virgin cheerleader,” I whispered to Marla.

“Ooh.”

“I played Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and another special song for her. I’ve never told Kristen about that. Would you like that?”

“That song… that whole Elton John album is depressing. Do you do requests?”

“Depends on the song. Some songs don’t sound good on piano.”

Marla thought for a moment. “Can you think of a good piano song other than that one?”

“Do you know Todd Rundgren?”

“Who?” Marla asked.

“He’s a great guitar player. He has his own group. Anyway, there’s a song that I never played for anybody before, and I figured that I’d play it for you.”

“Me?”

I started playing the intro, my arms snuggling against Marla’s small breasts almost the same way that I did with June. During the introduction, I told Marla that she was supposed to grind herself against me, and achieve orgasm before the end of the song.

It was late, last night,

I was feeling something wasn’t right,

There was not another soul in sight,

Only you, only you!

So we walked along,

Though I knew there was something wrong,

And the feeling that feels so strong about you,

Then you gazed up at me,

And the answer was plain to see,

Cause I saw the light in your eyes.

Marla’s grinding was light, at first. I licked at her ears between lines and verses. I added an instrumental bridge while my tongue went in and out of her ear.

By the time I was near the end, Marla’s grinding was frantic. I could tell that her body was very close to release, but she wasn’t achieving it.

The last few lines of the song were just notes played with one hand. I used the other to flick at her nipples. Still no orgasm.

And I ran out before,

But I won’t do it anymore!

Can’t you see the light in my eyes?

In my eyes? In my eyes? In my eyes?

As I drew out the last lines, Marla sang it with me as she finally achieved her release. She ended with a long note, and her lovely voice hit it about two octaves over mine, turning the song into a scream of ecstasy.

Afterward, Marla was panting on my lap.

“I thought you’d never end that song!” Marla breathed.

“I was waiting for you to come.”

“I was waiting for you to finish the damned song!”

This struck me as funny. I delayed the last verse a bit because I didn’t want it to finish before she did. Apparently, Marla had been holding back, waiting for it.

“I’m never going to listen to Todd Rundgren with dry panties again,” Marla said.

I was quite amused. Marla didn’t even know the performer’s name until I played the song for her. I started giggling.

It was contagious. The two of us laughed so hard that we fell off the piano bench. Luckily, the room had deep pile shag carpet and neither one of us got hurt. Instead, we just hugged each other and started to cuddle.

Marla noticed the time. “Ooh! It’s after ten!”

“Do you really want to meet our slaves?” I asked Marla, giving her one last chance to shy away.

“Jim, if I leave this house a virgin, then I will never forgive you. I’ve been waiting a year for this moment. I want my own Oogie Story, and nobody will fucking believe that song you sang for me.”

“I think the Oogie Stories are supposed to be things nobody is supposed to believe.”

“Anybody that meets you finds out that they’re true.” Marla sighed.

We went upstairs.

Chapter 25—Marla; June and Merry

One of these mornings,

You’re going to rise up singing.

Then you’ll spread your wings,

And you’ll take to the sky!

Porgy and Bess

Summertime

On the way upstairs, I asked Marla what time she needed to be home. I didn’t want her to get in trouble with her Aunt.

“Aunt Gin won’t expect me home until dinner tomorrow.”

“You’re shitting me!”

“Nope, and I intend for you to take my virginity tonight.”

“There’s only one problem, Marla. I cannot take it from you unless Kristen agrees. She’s still my number one priority. If she has a problem with my taking your virginity, I’d rather have you disappointed than have Kristen angry or jealous.”

“Those Oogie Stories are so true,” Marla said, sighing. “You are so fucking nice. You can turn a girl down, but make her think that it’s in her best interest.”

“No,” I said, stopping Marla before we got into the apartment. “What I said is absolutely true. I’m not turning you down. The fact is, Kristen has seen me fuck other women, and she probably has some planned for me that I haven’t even met. I just can’t make a promise until I know Kristen’s desires. My life is with her, whereas you are just a special moment or a special recurring moment. I’d be stupid to give up my life for a moment. Do you understand?”

Marla looked at me. “You are so fucking unreal. How do you do it?”

Is that what every virgin asks me?

* * *

Upstairs, we were greeted by Lynette, June, and Kristen. I found out later that Camille had another commitment, and wasn’t able to see us until noon the next day.

Marla anticipated that Lynette and June would be in, and she didn’t seem at all uneasy with the fact that everybody was nude, including her.

“Does the orgy start now?” Marla asked.

“Let’s start with introductions,” I said, smiling.

I moved behind the love seat, where June was sitting on the back of the love seat with her feet on the cushions where people would normally sit. I fondled June’s breasts and introduced her to Marla: “This is my good friend June. She likes to call herself Cunt Whore, which is strange considering the fact that she’s a virgin. Kristen and I told you her story. She’s given me her virginity, and has no idea how it will be taken, although she has a dream. She’s a romantic and, despite appearances, she is utterly faithful to her true love, Archy Jonas. She will do anything you ask, because she trusts the people we trust. She loves showers, orgasms, the song ’Mr. Bojangles,’ and if you are a guy, she will show you the most amazing blow job technique that I’ve ever witnessed.”

June smiled at me. Her nipples were as hard as I ever felt them.

“Oh, by the way, if you didn’t notice, June is black. I can see how you could be blinded by her beauty, but such things are eventually noticed a few days or weeks after you meet her.”

Lynette stifled a giggle at my last statement.

Lynette was the next person on my agenda. She was cuddling with Kristen on the sofa, as usual.

“Stop smirking and get up and get over here Pussy Slave!” I demanded.

Lynette looked at Kristen, who nodded in confirmation.

It only took about five seconds for Lynette to get over to where I was. I started fondling her breasts as I introduced her: “This is Lynette, also known as Pussy Slave. She can tell you the exact number of lovers she has had, male and female, and even give you their names if you are looking for references. In our high school, she was the head cheerleader in more ways than one, and has made herself available to any athlete that wanted her this past year. They eagerly took her up on her offer, sometimes two and three at a time, I’ve been told. She loves showers and she loves it when the person with her achieves orgasm; it’s a personal triumph for her. Like June, Pussy Slave has a true love, but Lynette shares her true love with me. I’ve been told by a number of females that she is probably the best pussy eater that you’ll ever meet.”

I moved behind the sofa, where Kristen was sitting. “You can go back to where you were.”

Lynette moved back to the sofa and resumed cuddling with Kristen.

I moved behind Kristen. “This is the most beautiful woman in the world in my eyes. She is my one true love. She is my future and I am her future. She is the person that has made everything you see here possible. Every story that you know as an ‘Oogie Story’ has Kristen at the heart of it. Even if she isn’t directly involved, she is foremost on my mind, and when I am with other women, I simply treat them the way I would treat this wonderful Goddess. In my mind, Kristen is paramount. That means, what Kristen says goes, and her word trumps everybody’s including mine, since she has proven herself correct more than I ever have. You may call her Kristen, Kris, Goddess, or simply Mistress, depending on how you feel about her.”

Kristen motioned to me to bend down toward her and I did. I received a warm kiss from her.

I finally moved back to Marla, who was still standing at the entrance of the apartment. “Everybody, this is Marla. She comes from California, and is only here for a short period of time. She appears to love showers, orgasms, and a certain piano player. She would like to lose her virginity if she gets the blessing of the Goddess. If not, I have promised her a night of ecstasy, and I think that everybody that is staring at this vision of loveliness will have no problems fulfilling that promise with me. Her special fantasy is to have her own special Oogie Story that she will tell nobody, which I think might be impossible, since the point of most Oogie Stories has been to tell it to everybody in the whole fucking world.”

I looked around, pleased that I managed to do such a good job. “Why don’t you sit down next to June, Marla?” I suggested. “Tonight, you’re family.”

Marla moved next to June, and there was a slight awkward moment when June avoided Marla, not knowing how she would feel having another nude girl touch her. Marla simply kissed June, mashing her breasts against June’s, letting June know that she didn’t mind.

I sighed in triumph.

“Don’t you dare!” Kristen warned.

I looked at my Goddess, confused.

Kristen said, “I am not going to take that silly introduction lying down!”

Lynette took that very moment to position herself between Kristen’s legs and start licking.

“Oh, fuck!” Kristen said. “I guess I’m going to have to. Well, I’m going to get even. That oaf that’s standing there with a smirk on his face is Jim, who is also known as Master, Mr. Big, and Oogie.”

The Mr. Big name drew a giggle from June, as it always did.

“Oogie likes showers, taking virgins on pool tables, and forcing girls to blow him only to make them spit the semen from their mouths into mine, which I happen to like, but that’s not the point. He had a single sexual experience with a wild girl from the West Coast, and she found herself hopelessly in love with him. He did more or less the same with me as well as many people you already know. He is the kindest, most caring, and most wonderful man on the earth. He also thinks for some silly reason that I am the perfect woman for him, so I find myself having to work my ass off making him happy so that he doesn’t get bored with me and have to give me one of his ‘let’s be friends’ speeches that he has mastered. This guy leaves women behind not upset that he’s leaving them, but makes them sop their panties in the thought that his doing so is, of course, the best thing that ever happened in their life. He is a one man wrecking crew: he can turn a heterosexual virgin into a Cunt Whore in ninety minutes, and the girl thinks it was her own idea. Loving this man is devastating, and he’ll leave your heart completely full of his love for you in return.”

When Kristen finished, there wasn’t any movement in the room. Even Lynette stopped her oral attentions on her mistress and turned to look at me.

“Um…” I said, not really expecting that from Kristen. “I think I may need a second opinion…”

“Ditto!” June yelled.

“Ditto!” Lynette agreed.

“Ditto!” Marla said, getting into the mood.

“It’s unanimous, Jim,” Kristen said, solemnly.

“OK. I’m Mr. Perfect,” I said, sullenly.

“Mr. Asshole is more like it,” Kristen said. “But your heart is good, and that is what counts.”

“Oh, Kristen, did I ever tell you I love you?” I said, boring my eyes into hers.

“Oh, just every fucking day since you first said it,” Kristen said, her voice a bit softer.

“I love you,” I said. “Just in case I forgot today.”

“You didn’t,” Kristen said softly.

* * *

Marla was serious about me taking her virginity.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to do this.

I wasn’t sure about Marla’s motives. There was an image of me as this superhero that I didn’t think that any human could live up to. Kristen’s “introduction” of me to Marla didn’t help that situation at all, but seemed to make Marla even more determined that I would be her first.

From my earliest sexual experience a year ago with Patrice, I knew that a woman’s virginity was extremely precious. A woman would always remember the person who took it from her, and I didn’t want to be that person for Marla. I hadn’t been aware of Marla’s virgin status until she told me, and my initial attitude would be to have her wait for the right person to take it, since I never seriously considered myself to be the right person for Marla.

Kristen was first and foremost in my love interests. I would willingly give up all other females in my life for her, but she seemed willing to share. June and Patty, and to a lesser extent Lynette and Camille, were the only other girls who could vie for my affections.

Truthfully, I only barely knew Marla. I did have a fling with her a year ago courtesy of my tickets, and even though she forgave me, I didn’t consider her a very important part of my life. I knew that taking Marla’s virginity would put me directly into the cross hairs of her sights on me, and she might want to start working her way into my inner circle. She might even try to replace Kristen in my life.

“What are you thinking about, Jim?” Kristen asked me, noticing that I hadn’t been listening to the girls talking.

“Huh?” I asked, just realizing that my mind was wandering.

“You’re a million miles away.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said sheepishly.

“What were you thinking about?” Kristen asked again. Kristen was persistent.

“Nothing, I guess,” I lied.

Kristen, Lynette, and June all gave me a funny look. Marla saw this and looked confused.

“What?” I asked.

Kristen shrugged and turned to Marla. “Were you serious about an orgy?”

“What do you mean?” Marla asked, surprised.

“You asked, ‘Does the orgy start now?’” Kristen explained. “Were you serious?”

“Um…” Marla looked uncertain.

“We have what we call the Cheerleaders’ Rules. May I explain them to you?” Kristen asked.

“Rules?”

“The first rule is that everything that happens requires consent. Lynette and June have already given consent to do whatever Jim and I request them to do. Their consent is for us to order them, Marla, not you. We might ask them to ‘do’ you, but if you ask them, it will be up to them to decide. Likewise, you haven’t given any consent to anything yet. You are sitting in our living room, nude. Nobody will touch you, and nobody will be asked to touch you, unless you initiate contact first or you specifically give your consent.”

Marla nodded. “I…”

“Please let me finish, Marla,” Kristen interrupted. “You’ve already taken a shower with Jim and me, so you’ve already given some consent to the two of us, but you haven’t yet to June and Lynette. You may not be comfortable with one of us girls getting physical with you—I know it took me a while to gather up the courage, and we all understand. We will think no less of you if you don’t want that. In return, we don’t want you to think less of the three of us because we do. I think the entire basis for the Cheerleaders’ Rules is respect. Respect each other and each other’s wishes.”

Marla nodded again. “I think I understand.”

Kristen smiled, but her tone got serious. “Let me start with my limitation on Jim. We’re partners, and partners need to give consent as well. My limitation is that whatever you do with Jim, other than what you may have done privately in the practice room, I want to be there. I’m not asking to participate, but I want to be there.”

“I understand,” Marla said, slowly.

“I’d like to break the ice, Marla,” Kristen said, looking at me.

“Break the ice?” Marla and I both voiced the same question at the same time. Neither one of us knew what Kristen was up to.

Kristen nodded her answer, and turned to Lynette. “Pussy Slave, I want you to give Cunt Whore an orgasm using only your tongue. If it takes more than three minutes, you will get ten spankings for every minute additional that you take!”

Lynette looked surprised. I think she figured that her role was to fade into the background with Marla around, but Kristen showed her otherwise.

Marla gasped as Lynette raced between June’s legs, spreading them as she knelt between them. Without any hesitation, she started licking June furiously.

June was surprised as well, and looked nervously between Marla and me. I shrugged, not knowing what Kristen’s game was. I decided that Kristen was demonstrating that Lynette, at least, was really a slave.

I knew from experience that June wasn’t an easy person to get to ecstasy. Her orgasms took a while to build up, at least her first one. Once she got to that point, however, she found it easy to get off again. Three minutes was a terrible deadline to give Lynette.

In addition, up until now, June hadn’t participated in any of the girl-on-girl activity. Of course, she witnessed first hand Lynette and Kristen playing together, and didn’t seem put off by it, but I believe that this was a first for her.

June didn’t seem terribly worried about Lynette’s activity, so I decided to let Kristen continue what she was doing. I wasn’t entirely sure about her motives, but I knew that if she crossed a line with June, I’d notice it and would do everything to prevent that from happening.

Lynette, for her part, was determined.

As I said, this was the first time I ever saw June receive oral attentions from Lynette. June’s eyes were lidded and there was a slight smile on her face as Lynette got busy. It only took about a minute before the first of her moans started to emerge from her lips.

I glanced at Marla, who was staring transfixed with her mouth slightly open at Lynette’s and June’s lewd display.

“F… F… F…” June was trying to keep herself under control as Lynette kept up her attack. June’s fists were clenched tightly as she struggled. “F… F… FUCK!” June finally shouted.

I never saw June in the throes of orgasm from a distance before.

Marla seemed shocked at June’s vocal cries of passion.

“FUCK! FUCK ME, LYNETTE!” June shouted, momentarily forgetting Lynette’s role as Pussy Slave.

June’s face moved left and right as she started to reach her peak. “OH SHIT!” June shouted as we realized that Lynette achieved her goal. “OH! OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

“MMMMMMMPPPPPPHHHHHHH!” June cried, losing her vocal abilities as her orgasm inundated her body.

I couldn’t see exactly what Lynette was doing, but from June’s reactions, it appeared that she was easing off, as June was now simply moaning with her legs wrapped tightly around Lynette’s shoulders.

“Oh, my,” Marla said softly, surprising me.

Kristen said, “I just wanted you to know that it’s one thing to hear or to fantasize about the things we do, and it’s another thing to participate in it.”

Marla nodded in response, still staring in fascination at Lynette and June, who seemed to be winding down their passionate moment together.

“Marla?” I called.

“Huh?”

“Marla?” I repeated, trying to get her attention.

“Yeah?”

“Did you hear Kristen?” I asked. “Do you really want this?”

“Um…”

“Think about it, Marla,” I said gently. “Do you know why those two girls just did this in front of you… a complete stranger?”

“Um…” Marla tried to look at me, but I could tell that her mind was still on what she just witnessed.

I looked at Kristen and shrugged. Kristen shrugged back.

Lynette gave June’s crotch a very loud kiss and pulled away forcefully, unwrapping June’s legs from her body. As she turned to us, it was obvious that her face was soaked from June’s copious secretions.

“May I?” I asked Lynette.

Lynette smiled at me, and moved over to where I was sitting. I kissed her and proceeded to slowly lick June’s love juice from Lynette’s face. It took about a minute, after which the two of us kissed deeply.

“You kiss divinely,” Lynette said with a sigh once we broke our kiss.

“That’s my Oogie!” Kristen said, proudly.

“Oh, my,” Marla breathed.

Lynette looked at Marla and then back at me with a questioning look on her face. I gave her a brief shake of the head; I didn’t know how far Marla wanted to go, despite the fact that she said she wanted to lose her virginity tonight. Instead, Lynette moved to Kristen and the two women kissed and fondled each other.

“Oh, my,” Marla repeated.

“Welcome to the Emerald City,” I said to Marla.

“And I thought they were just stories,” Marla said.

I smirked. “Famous last words.”

* * *

In the end, Marla chickened out to my relief. I think Kristen intended this. She slept with the two of us, but we mostly cuddled, although I fingered her to a couple of orgasms.

Kristen tried to get Marla to give me a hand job and aim for her mouth, but I really think the presence of Kristen with Marla and I made her reticent.

Kristen was good natured about it, though, and positioned herself so that I was in the middle of the bed. After Marla’s steady breathing indicated she was asleep, Kristen got her fix of my seed by blowing me quietly. It was one of her lovely leisurely sucks, and after I shot my load into her mouth, I drifted off into a sweet slumber.

* * *

I woke up, spooned against Marla, since she was on the side of the bed Kristen normally used. At first, I thought I was with my blonde Goddess, and I rubbed my dick against her ass.

When Marla stiffened, I realized something was different. Normally, that was a cue for Kristen to reach behind and start a hand job. Instead, Marla gasped as she felt my erection close to her back door.

I think that Marla’s fantasies about our “den of iniquity” and from the wanton display that Lynette and June put on the previous night, Marla apparently thought that I was going to take her anally.

Of course, I had no such intentions, but Marla reacted just the same. “Um…”

“Ssh, Marla,” I said, soothingly. “You were on the side of the bed that Kristen normally uses. I wasn’t quite awake and thought you were her. You are quite safe, OK?”

Marla giggled. “I was afraid…”

“Don’t be afraid. You are cuddly, though.”

Marla reacted to that by wiggling her ass against my very erect cock.

I felt Kristen stir behind be, and wondered what she would think if I mistook Marla for her. “You’re cute when you’re embarrassed, Oogie,” Kristen whispered in my ear, letting me know that she heard the conversation between Marla and me.

In for a penny, in for a pound, I figured, and I started moving my cock up and down Marla’s ass crack. Marla moaned quietly in response.

Kristen now had her tongue in my ear, and she was driving me crazy. If I knew how much that this would drive a person crazy, I wouldn’t have done it with so many girls in the past. As it was, I was getting extremely horny with Kristen blowing into my ear as she licked on my lobe.

My erection wasn’t getting too much relief.

Marla turned her head toward me. “Can I suck you, or will Kristen mind?”

Kristen snickered quietly into my ear as she heard Marla’s request.

“If you suck me, then you’ll have to kiss Kristen afterward and share it with her.”

I winced as I considered Marla’s reaction.

“Sounds kinky,” Marla said.

I breathed a sigh of relief as Marla repositioned herself. She sucked me tenderly, and I was immediately taken back to that one summer day underneath the shade of a willow tree as Marla sucked me for the first time.

There were warm lips on mine as Marla continued sucking. Kristen gave me one of her great erection special kisses and I felt myself grow within Marla’s mouth. With the double stimulation, it didn’t take very long for me to go off.

Kristen knew my condition by the way I was starting to suck her tongue into my mouth greedily. Marla noticed my cock’s twitching in anticipation and she started a stronger suction. I erupted into Marla’s mouth, blasting off inside it. It wasn’t so much Marla’s sucking, but I think it was the closeness I felt with Kristen kissing me that really set me off. Of course, I’d only admit that privately to Kristen.

When I was spent, Marla brought her head up and saw Kristen break her kiss with me. She opened her eyes wide, as if asking a question, and Kristen moved over to her and kissed her. I heard Marla moan as she did so, not minding that her breasts and Kristen’s were touching.

When the two broke their kiss, Marla was blushing. I thought she looked so cute that I moved over and kissed her myself, surprising her as my tongue entered her mouth and tasted the little seed that Kristen left her.

I then moved over and kissed my lovely blonde Goddess. I kept my eyes open as Kristen shared some of my own semen with me. Marla inhaled suddenly as she saw Kristen finally swallow the semen that she deposited in Kristen’s mouth as the two of us kissed.

“Wow,” Marla breathed.

“That was wonderful,” I said to Marla, thanking her for the blow job, remembering the guilt that I felt a year ago when I didn’t even thank her.

“How do you do it?” Marla asked.

Kristen convulsed on the bed in laughter, making me join her. Kristen has heard June ask that same question to me over and over again in the same curious way, sounding almost as if she were a little kid the way she asked the question.

“Oogie Story number four,” Kristen said, and Marla started laughing as well.

* * *

When the three of us got out of our room, we found that Lynette and June were already up and they started breakfast. I didn’t have any classes until that afternoon, and June had the entire day free. Lynette and Kristen had a class at 11:00.

Lynette and June acted as our servants for breakfast, and brought out plates of blueberry pancakes made with wild blueberries that Kristen’s mother imported from a place in northern Maine for her daughter. Each stack of pancakes had some thick homemade blueberry sauce and whipped cream on top of them. The stacks looked as if they came from a gourmet restaurant that specialized in such breakfasts.

“Who made these?” I asked.

June raised her hand timidly. “My mom… Ass Whore… taught me how to cook. She used to work as a cook at a hotel.”

“These look wonderful. Did you make enough for Lyn… Pussy Slave and you?”

“Yes. We’re eating in the kitchen,” June said.

“Nonsense,” I said. “Join us. This is a meal fit for a king, and I’d be honored to share the table with its creators!”

June’s cheeks dimpled when I said that. She bounded into the kitchen to retrieve her plate. Lynette looked at Kristen, who nodded her permission for her to eat with us as well.

I have long noticed that Lynette only did things at Kristen’s command or with Kristen’s tacit permission, and this was a good example. Despite the fact that she was supposed to obey my orders, she usually looked to Kristen for confirmation before following them. It was obvious to me where Lynette’s loyalties were. June, on the other hand, wasn’t as fixated on me, although I occasionally saw her looking at me with those “puppy dog eyes” that June once described Kristen as having when Kristen looked at me.

“Pussy Slave and I have class in two hours,” Kristen announced. “What will the three of you do until Jim’s class at 2:30?”

June and Marla looked at me.

I shrugged.

June gave an evil smirk. “I don’t know. How much hot water do we have in the shower?”

Kristen and June laughed at that. Thanks to that damned communal shower that Kristen installed in our apartment, I think that I was the most-washed male in the state.

I had a feeling that some music, some pool, and a shower might be in the cards today.

* * *

After breakfast, I insisted on cleaning up while Kristen and Lynette got dressed for class. They left at 10:30, and both of them gave Marla a deep kiss.

Our first stop after Kristen and Lynette left was the music studio.

Marla told June about my serenading her the previous night, and June told her about our “nasty” session in the practice room at school.

“Ooh,” Marla said. “Another Oogie Story!”

“Girls, can you please avoid telling those stories in front of me?” I asked.

“Why not?” Marla asked.

“I’m not sure I react to them the same way you do.”

“I’d be surprised if you wet your panties hearing them, Jim,” June said, giggling.

I gave June a look that would have wilted a rain forest. June cast her eyes down as I did that, and I was immediately sorry. I pulled June into my arms and said, “I’m sorry, June.”

Marla watched June and I hug, her mouth opened wide.

“Fuck! If I didn’t know that Kristen was your one true love…”

June giggled, but when I looked at her, I saw tears in her eyes. “What’s the matter, little girl?” I asked, softly.

June didn’t answer, but sighed against me.

As if they were on cue, the two girls said at the exact same moment, “How do you do it?”

* * *

June was sitting happily on my lap, my penis between her legs. Marla was happily licking my erect penis. The original idea was June’s, who wanted to be the one that blew me, but I knew how drained I’d be if I were the recipient of one of June’s colossal blow jobs.

Somehow, I think that June anticipated my reaction and simply got her way.

“Mr. Bojangles, please,” June requested.

Unlike Pussy Slave, Cunt Whore had no problem making requests.

I played the song, singing it exactly the same way I did that day in the practice room with June.

About halfway through the song, Marla’s ministrations on my cock ceased. She looked up at me, and once again, her mouth was open, agape.

After I finished the song, June kissed me.

“Are you really that good?” Marla asked.

“Huh?” June asked.

“Jim… does he really play like that?”

I nodded, and June smiled at Marla. “I used to think that Archy was the most awesome trumpet player. He used to play for me, occasionally. Jim, here, is like Doc Severinsen.”

“I don’t play like him,” I corrected June.

“Archy said you put his uncle to shame, and he worships his uncle’s memory!” June exclaimed.

I shook my head. “Archy is much better…”

“You see?” June said to Marla, who nodded in response.

“Is there another song you want?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

“Lady Madonna,” Marla said.

I glared at Marla. I knew that her choice wasn’t random. I shrugged, and belted out the song, trying my best to sound as good as Paul McCartney.

“Fuck,” Marla breathed when I finished the song.

“I bet you’re wet down there,” June said, giggling.

“Of course…” Marla cut her comment off, her embarrassment overtaking her.

“You should have heard him in the practice room that day,” June said, softly. “He played the entire flip side of Abbey Road, singing all the parts, and only stopped at the drum solo on The End. Then he switched to Joy to the World and began a medley of Three Dog Night.”

“You heard that?” I asked.

“Everybody heard it, Jim! Mr. Proilet opened the door and you were playing… banging, really… and he was just standing there, staring at you. He called off classes. Your face looked as if you were ready to cry at any moment, and we all were worried about you. Finally, you played the introduction to a song and then slammed the keyboard hard. I mean, most of us were shocked at the amount of emotion you poured into what you were singing. You laid your head down on the piano and…”

“The door was open?” I asked, quite shocked.

“Anybody that didn’t know you were a genius, found out that you were that day,” June said. “You were distracted, and you put on a show—unintentionally, I realize—but you put on a show that rivaled the Music Man. Nobody wanted to interrupt you… even your teacher was in awe at what you were doing.”

Oh my god. My tantrum hadn’t been as private as I thought.

June just hugged me. “That morning, when you played Mr. Bojangles for me, I was just playing at loving you. When I saw you later on that day, pouring out your soul on the piano, I realized that I really loved you, even more than I thought I did.”

I sighed.

I hadn’t realized that Marla was sucking me as June was telling me, but when June told me that she loved me, I blasted off into Marla’s mouth for the second time that morning.

June and I took Marla home afterward.

Marla didn’t give me her virginity that day, but she whispered to me as she hugged me in front of her Aunt Gin’s house that I was going to be a very difficult act to follow. She now had her requirements for her first sexual partner, and I was worried that she might have a difficult time in fulfilling them.

After Marla got into her aunt’s house, I walked slowly into June’s car.

“To the college?” June asked.

“No, June,” I said, sadly. “Take me to Lake Shore Point. I need a friend to hug me.”

“Yes, Master.”

“No, June!”

“Sorry. Yes, Jim.”

I needed a hug. Marla was probably what was never meant to be with me. I wondered how many people I would never meet in Orange County would hear and repeat those Oogie Stories that she knew and would repeat from her cousin over the next couple of years.

“Jim?” June asked after we just hugged for about twenty minutes.

“What?”

“What if I…?”

“No, June,” I said, reading her mind. “Save it for Archy. He’s your future.”

June looked at me with that look that I’ve seen in her eyes a million times. “How do you do it?”

* * *

I think it was the one year anniversary from the date that I found the “Lucky Tickets” that June arrived at our gate on Saturday, telling security that Cunt Whore was there.

Kristen wasn’t in, as she had classes that day.

I got the standard message from security, who seemed to get a kick out of the Cunt Whore and Pussy Slave visitors we constantly had. “Please send her in, and use the message ‘Cunt Whore is not allowed today, but June Rodgers may meet Jim at the apartment, fully clothed.’”

“Yes, sir.”

June arrived at the apartment. “What was that all about?”

“Archy is gone. I know you miss him, and I don’t need Cunt Whore any more. I never wanted that, in fact. After you told me that you heard my tantrum in the practice room and how you felt about me afterward, I decided that I would like a friend that I can talk to, who doesn’t mind kissing and cuddling, and who likes Kristen as much as you do.”

There were tears in June’s eyes. “My mom told me that you loved me, Jim.”

“She did?”

“She said you were a strong person, and put her in her place. She didn’t think that you would have taken my virginity that night, but as a mother, she couldn’t allow herself to do anything to possibly hurt me.”

“I knew that,” I said.

“She wants to come over, you know.”

That, I didn’t know. I said nothing, and waited.

“She purchased the handcuffs. I saw them, and pretended not to notice them.”

Oh, shit.

“How are Archy’s practices going?” I asked, wanting to change the subject.

“The coach is a slave driver, and he barely has time to write a couple of sentences to me every day. He’s overtired and he’s the smallest linebacker, if you can believe that!”

“I guess his nickname is finally appropriate,” I said.

“I miss him, Jim. He earns some extra money Friday nights playing in a small combo at a local hotel.”

“I know you miss Archy,” I said, hugging June very close. It had been a very long since I hugged a fully clothed June in my arms. The sensation was… erotic, if you could believe that.

June seemed to sense that as well, and we rubbed against each other as lovers who know each other’s secrets do.

“How do you do it?” June asked me for the umpteenth time.

“Magic,” I answered. I long gave up trying to answer that question. I didn’t have a good answer when I asked it myself.

We cuddled together for a while.

Finally, I found the courage to say, “Do you remember my sister, Merry?”

“The fisherman?” June chuckled.

“Yeah,” I smiled. “She’s entering tenth this year.”

“Ooh,” June smiled. “Two Oogies at once!”

“Not quite. She’s not musical, and she’s not even related to me.”

“She’s your step-sister, right?” June asked.

“Yeah.”

“That’s when… um…”

“Her mother passed away. Her father married my mother, but I was already born. My mother isn’t really her mother, and her father isn’t really my father. I never refer to Merry’s father as my own, but Merry calls my mother ‘Mom.’”

“Sounds confusing,” June said. “I know what it’s like when your father disappears.”

“My father didn’t disappear. I made him disappear. I would rather eat rat poison than spend another second in his company. My mom and I escaped from him, and he moved away somewhere out west. Mom found Merry’s father, and they married. He’s a good man, but the word ‘father’ still leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“There are good fathers,” June said.

“Name one.”

“Archy’s.”

“Touché,” I said, conceding the point. Archy’s father was the black equivalent of Ward Cleaver from the TV series, with a good sense of humor. He was also quite smart. “Most fathers are assholes.”

June sighed. “Why were we talking about Merry?”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, getting back on track.

“So…?”

“Merry used to do gymnastics. She wasn’t competitive, but she was good. I’ve gotten to know a few cheerleaders, and I think they are a great bunch of people.”

“Is she as good as Sherry?” June asked.

“No,” I said, truthfully.

“Have her try out. The name Crittenhouse will go a long way.”

“Her last name is Cummings, and if you smirk at that name, I will paddle your ass until it turns raw.”

“Oh.” June didn’t smirk.

I didn’t have any idea why I insisted on keeping the last name given to me by that bastard I hated, but I did. I was younger at the time, and I’ve gotten used to the name. For her own part, Kristen loves her last name, and I wasn’t sure what she would do when we married.

“How likely is it for a marginal gymnast sophomore to become a varsity cheerleader.”

“Expect thirty or forty applicants for ten positions.”

“Three to one against.”

“I don’t think Jackie would compromise the squad. Lynette and Camille worked very hard to get the squad where it is today. Jackie is our tie to those two special girls. Besides, Sherry is the flame behind the cheerleaders now.”

“Sherry?” I asked.

“She’s easily the most gifted, and she keeps pushing everybody to try harder. She tried to get us to practice more than once a week last year, and almost succeeded. If it weren’t for that stupid sex thing that Lynette and Camille came up with, she’d almost certainly be the captain. As it is, she still runs things.”

“I’m worried about Merry, June.”

“Why?”

“She doesn’t seem to have any drive.”

June shrugged. “People such as Archy and you get heart attacks at a young age.”

I remember Camille telling me that I was heart attack material. Did these girls all talk about me?

“How did you get on the squad?” I asked, changing the subject.

“I wanted to become a cheerleader, and some people told me that black girls just don’t become cheerleaders. That focused me to get onto the squad, and since Lynette and Camille are color blind, I got on.”

I laughed. “Color blind. I like that.”

“It’s rare, Jim. I know that you notice my skin color, but you only mention it to get a rise out of people. Our first time together, I kept called you ‘white boy’ to get a rise out of you. It failed.”

“I noticed your color, June,” I said. “I admit that I was curious about the black/white thing when you asked me if Kris and I could get together with Archy and you in the hot tub, but I had some time to get over that.”

“I don’t think many boys would have done that.”

“I did see your blackness, June,” I said. “It’s similar to being given the keys to any car on the lot. You pick the exotic, foreign one. You drive it around, and you might be curious about how it feels different than other cars. But when you fall in love with that car, then it may have been the fact that it was foreign that brought it to your attention, but it’s the fact that it’s a great car that keeps you driving it.”

June smiled. “I’ve known many who have ‘tried black and then went back.’ We even have people that discriminate backwards. They are against people putting ‘cream in the coffee.’”

I laughed. I hadn’t heard either of those expressions. “Part of what attracted me to you was your exotic beauty. But you can ask any girl that I love, it’s their inner beauty that keeps me with them. You have that, June.”

“I know you think that, Jim,” June said softly. “You tell me that all the time, even when I’m Cunt Whore.”

“Do you think you could be a big sister for Merry?” I asked. “When we first met, she loved me because I was the big brother that she never had. It occurs to me that Merry never had a big sister.”

“Neither did you,” June pointed out.

“I’m not a girl.”

“I have no big sister. I have no idea what she’d be looking for.”

“I have no idea what being a big brother was supposed to be; I just played it by ear. What would you look for in a big sister?”

June was silent for a few moments. “This is important to you, isn’t it?”

“You are important to me. Kristen is important to me. Merry is my step-sister who sees me as her big brother. She’s at that age when she really needs help that I can’t give her, and I want the best in the world for her.”

June nodded. “How do you do it?”

Before I recognized the question, I answered, “Do what?”

June didn’t answer.

“What if I invited you for supper at my parents’ house? My mom likes making macaroni.”

“Am I allowed to wear clothes?”

The two of us laughed.

* * *

My mom was happy to see me for supper. I told her I was bringing a friend, but even so, she was a bit surprised when I brought June in. My mom didn’t miss a beat, however.

“Hello, June,” Mom said. “Jim tells me you’re a cheerleader.”

“Yes, I am. Jim is sort of the cheerleaders’ adopted pet.”

“Hey!” I protested, but I heard this before.

Merry came over. “I’m Merry!”

June smiled. “I remember you as the fisherman!”

“The fisher-WOMAN!”

Everybody laughed.

“Jim used to write music upstairs. He used to let me listen in while he wrote music.”

“Do you play?” June asked.

Merry shook her head. “I’ve got ten thumbs when it comes to the piano.”

“The band is becoming the popular activity at school,” June said. “A lot of people from your grade are doing music.”

Merry shrugged. “What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” June asked, confused.

“Being a cheerleader.”

“They’re all the same as me, Merry. They’re blonde, they are dumb, and they date football jocks.”

“You’re not blonde!” Merry said, laughing. “I’m blonde, but I’m not dumb. Can you introduce me to a jock?”

“June’s boyfriend is Tiny Jonas. Do you remember him?”

“That big mother… I mean, that big guy?”

June fell in love with Merry at this point, I believe.

We ate a great supper. Afterward, Merry invited June into her room—her inner sanctum. I visited my room, and found that I now had little nostalgia for it. After all, I lived in this room when my father lived in the house. Now, most of the important things I owned were over at the apartment. I still stashed a few nondescript jeans and T-shirts and stuff in the event I needed to crash there for a night, but I had a lot of older friends who didn’t mind driving me, so I could usually get transportation back to the apartment. There was also the limo service, which had many times offered to take me out at night instead of just during the morning, in order to earn more of Kristen’s money.

I spent time with my parents in the living room watching T.V. The TV show M.A.S.H was playing. I didn’t mind that series, since it was anti-war and showed a rather funny sense of humor to it.

At about nine, June and Merry came downstairs. “Need a ride home, Jim?” June asked, knowing the answer.

“Sure, June.”

I kissed my mother and Merry good-bye.

* * *

“She’s adorable. She’s almost exactly like me at her age.”

“I didn’t notice that she’s black,” I said, trying to get a rise out of June.

I failed.

“Do you think you can get her on the squad?”

“I put the seeds of the idea there. Do you realize that she has a serious crush on you?”

“So does nearly everybody at school,” I said, groaning.

“She said that you watched her masturbate.”

How many people has Merry told this to?

“How serious is it, June? Do I have to worry about being attacked by my sister?”

June shook her head. “No, but you could possibly turn her off all boys. Unrequited love isn’t pretty, Jim.”

Just great. Let’s dump so more responsibility onto Jim.

“What should I do?”

“You’ve dropped off the map, as far as she’s concerned,” June said. “New Year’s Eve was the high point of her life. Then you disappeared from her life. Then… you need her for the Fisherman song. You pop in and then pop out, and she finds it frustrating. She doesn’t want to fuck you, Jim. She wants to talk to you, but you seem to be afraid of her.”

“You got all this in two hours?” I asked.

“Two hours and an entire lifetime. We’re very similar.”

“I’m sorry, June. I’ve… I took advantage of her a year or so ago, and I don’t want to put myself into that situation again. I love her, I really do, but I don’t want to fuck up her life.”

“Popping in and out of her life is going to fuck her up worse.”

I realized that June was right, after all.

June changed the subject. “You won’t have your female mafia this year.”

“Huh?”

“Last year, there was Camille, Patty, Kristen, Sherry, and Lynette surrounding you whenever you moved. Camille, Patty, Kristen, and Lynette are gone this year. I can move into it, but that makes just Sherry and me, and Sherry has been very short with me since she found out we have a sexual relationship. Sherry has held a torch for you for years.”

“Sherry scares me.”

“Sherry’s feelings for you are identical to Lynette’s for Kristen. I’d say that Kristen handled it better, because Lynette has no jealousy. Watch Sherry the next time you see the two of us together.”

I sighed. I was trying to fix a potential problem with Merry and June keeps dumping more and more problems onto me. “I’m only human, June.”

“Despite our attempt at scandalizing your good name, very few people still, to this day, think you’re human.”

Chapter 26—More Pressure!

But you will come to a place,

Where the only thing you feel,

Are loaded guns in your face,

And you’ll have to deal with—

Pressure!

Billy Joel

Pressure

Kristen was in New England with Camille, helping Camille get settled in Providence. Most of Camille’s college expenses were paid by scholarships, and Kristen and Will helped her out as well. Will’s apartment was about an hour or so away and he made an offer to Camille that she could use his place to crash on long weekends if she just wanted to get away from school, or even if she just wanted to spend some quality time with Will.

I found myself missing Kristen for the two weeks she was gone. I turned down her invitation, since I was curious if Kristen would engage in a threesome with Will and Camille if I wasn’t around. According to Kristen, they hadn’t when I was there, and I wondered if I was sort of an anti-catalyst for that. If something happened, I knew that Kristen would tell me.

Even with Kristen gone, Lynette still was living at the apartment. Since I had never been happy with the whole “slave” thing, I didn’t give her any orders at all. Instead, I simply asked if she would like to hug and snuggle at night, which we both seemed to enjoy. I found that I hated sleeping alone, and having her warm body available—even without engaging in sex—was very therapeutic.

June was also spending more time with me as she sensed my melancholia. It wasn’t easy for her, since she was also spending time with Merry, getting her interested in being a cheerleader and helping her work out. While Kristen was gone, I asked both June and Lynette to wear clothes at the apartment, especially with Merry coming over so often. The two girls obliged me.

June found a practical solution to helping Merry: she invited Merry to spend nights together in the guest bedroom in the apartment. At first, my step-father wasn’t entirely happy with the situation, but my mother pointed out that June was spending a lot of quality time with Merry, trying to get her focused on something. He reluctantly agreed to allow Merry to sleep over.

Merry noticed Lynette sleeping with me most of the time. I didn’t comment on it, but June explained to Merry that Lynette was Kristen’s friend, and that we both missed Kristen, and spending time together was our way of remembering Kristen.

I took the three girls to Vaughn’s one night, using some of the house money as well as some money I received when I arranged a barter of a second electronic keyboard that Kristen picked up at the flea market for a multi-track TEAC open reel recorder and some extra cash.

For the first time ever in my memory, Merry refused the Belly Buster dessert at Vaughn’s. When I asked why, she said, “Cheerleaders don’t eat that shit.”

When Merry said that, Lynette nearly choked on her iced tea.

When Lynette learned of June’s attempt to help make Merry a cheerleader, Lynette got full on board as well. Merry would grow to hate Lynette, since Lynette wasn’t acting as a big sister as June was, but as a hard driving coach instead.

“Let Jim sleep with that bitch!” I overheard Merry say one night when I was going off to the master bedroom to sleep with Lynette.

A few days before Kristen was due back, Lynette and I were playing pool. We were about evenly matched, and we played a number of games.

I heard the sound of running water, but ignored it for a bit. When I heard squeals of laughter, however, both Lynette and I went next door to investigate what was going on. We found June and Merry, naked in the communal shower, the two girls soaping and splashing at each other.

When Merry noticed that I was there, she tried to cover herself as much as possible. Lynette read the situation, and quickly pulled me out of the room.

Back in the pool room, I was furious. “How could June do that to me?”

“Do what?” Lynette asked me, confused.

“Take advantage of Merry like that!”

“Take advantage? They were taking a shower!” Lynette said.

“You know what goes on in those showers, Lynette!”

“They are just two friends, a little sister and a big sister, having fun.”

“Sisters don’t do that!”

“How the fuck would you know? I have an older sister, and we DID do things like that, Jim. We grow up hating each other, and then, all of a sudden, we’re best friends.”

“June was taking advantage of Merry!” I repeated.

Lynette shook her head. “You’re the last person I would have figured for a prude, Jim.”

Lynette left the game room, her disgust at me hanging heavy in the air.

Was I a prude?

* * *

I was laying on my bed in my bedroom. I refused dinner; I wasn’t hungry. I was stewing about June and then how Lynette turned a blind eye to everything.

There was a knock on by bedroom door.

“Who is it?”

“June.”

“Go away.”

There was another knock.

“Go away.”

June opened the door. “Jim, you know that I love you very much. I’m willing to do anything for you.”

“Yeah? So what?” I said sullenly, still pissed as hell.

June sighed. “I’m giving you my notice. This is the last time you’re going to see me here. You don’t trust me, and you don’t seem to want me to be with your sister. This won’t be easy for me, but I’m leaving, effective now.”

“Huh?”

“I’m leaving. You asked me to do something, I did it, and you now hate me for it. I didn’t sign up for that.”

Wait a minute! I was pissed at June. Why was she pissed at me?

“Don’t go turning this around, June…”

“You turned it around, Jim.”

“No, I didn’t…”

June didn’t want to argue. She just turned and left, closing the door behind her.

How the fuck did I just lose June?

Before I could even fathom what just happened, there was another knock.

“June?”

“It’s Merry,” Merry said, opening the door. “June’s going to take me home.”

“Wait!” I said, but Merry didn’t wait. She left and the door closed again.

Lynette was next. “I’m leaving, too, Jim,” she said. “Kris should be back tomorrow. Have her call me.”

“Lynette! Please bring everybody back here!”

“They are leaving, Jim!”

“Get them, please! I don’t want this!”

Lynette looked at me for a moment and then left. I didn’t know if she was going to get June and Merry back, or if she was going to just leave.

About five minutes later, June came back into the room alone. “What do you want?”

“Can you explain to me what was happening in the shower?”

June stared at me for a few moments. “We just did a long workout outside, doing the moves that Lynette recommended. Merry and I wanted a shower, but I figured that using the upstairs one together would be too close. Merry never saw the downstairs one, so I showed it to her. She ran over and turned off my hot water, and I did the same to her. She was throwing a face cloth at me and you came into the shower, all hot and bothered.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded.

“Why didn’t you ask either of us?” June countered.

“June, Merry is very special to me. I don’t want anybody hurting her. I thought you might be taking…”

“Taking advantage of Merry?” June said. “That’s why I can’t live with you any more. You really think that I’d do that to that wonderful girl? I know how you feel, and we have a rule, don’t we? If somebody wants to do something with somebody else, and there are partners involved, then the partners have to approve. Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you think I’d violate that rule? Have I ever done so?”

“Oh, I’m such a fucking idiot! Lynette tried to tell me that I was going off the deep end, and I wouldn’t hear it. What’s happening to me?”

June no longer looked confrontational. Instead, she looked maternal. “You really miss her, don’t you?”

I got out of bed, and hugged June. I don’t know how long I cried on her shoulder.

* * *

I said, “I’m sorry” to June, Lynette, and Merry, in that order.

Merry was the most confused of all. Her hair was still wet from her interrupted shower.

“Merry, can I make it up to you?” I asked.

“You missed Kristen, so you got mad at June?” Merry said, confused, without answering my question.

“Love makes you do stupid things,” I admitted.

“Make it up, how?” Merry asked.

Conversations with Merry were seldom linear.

“Do you want to finish that shower?” I asked her.

“Downstairs?” Merry could get linear when she was interested in the answer.

“Downstairs.”

“That’s cool. It’s like in school!”

“Do you want to finish it?”

“With June?”

“With June.”

“All right.”

* * *

I watched June and Merry head out of the apartment with fresh towels. Kristen had a nearly complete set of shower supplies down there, with a closet that had refills and replacements as necessary.

“Want to join them?” I asked Lynette.

“Not a good idea,” Lynette said.

“Huh?”

“You made Merry afraid of you today. You’ll need to wait. Trust me, Jim.”

I nodded. “I’m such an asshole.”

“It makes you more human.”

“I don’t want to be a human asshole. I want to be a regular guy.”

“You have Kristen. You’ll never be a regular guy. Even if you couldn’t play a note.”

“Thanks, Lynette.”

“Tomorrow, I’m Pussy Slave.”

“Not if Merry is still here.”

“Yes, Jim, but it’s Kristen’s decision.”

I ignored Lynette’s implication. “Do you think that I’d scare Merry?”

“Kristen usually seems to have a sense of what needs to be done at the right time. Camille is smart and is also like that, most of the time. Your friend Patty seems to have a perfect record. I know how lucky you are, Jim.”

“Lucky Asshole?”

“Those three people are your anchors. None of them are leaving you. Camille is going to New England, but she’ll be with Kristen’s brother. Patty is working at the pizza joint. Without those friends of yours, you are starting to fly off in all directions.”

“That’s poetic,” I said dejectedly.

“I wanted to be a teacher or a dancer. Kristen has me going to school and majoring in business. What do I know about business?”

Lynette changed the subject, I noticed. I think it was a good idea.

“I think Kristen has plans for you,” I said.

“She has plans for you, too.”

“Oh?” I laughed. This wasn’t news to me.

“You are going to live your dream. You will be bigger than the Beatles, and Kristen is going to be there, saying, I was a part of this.”

“Success in music isn’t a certainty.”

“You don’t know Kristen very well. You thought you were trying to manipulate her a couple of months ago, but she’s manipulating you to get her to be a part of your success. You are thoroughly in her clutches and she won’t let go. I tell you this because I love her as much as you do.”

“I know how much you love her,” I said, softly.

“The cheerleaders never had as good a friend as you,” Lynette said.

“How does that follow, Lynette? Everybody loves the cheerleaders.”

“Camille told me what you did with that nerd. You pointed out Sherry to Camille. You’re the only heterosexual male that attended the lesser initiation that didn’t try anything with the cheerleader he was sponsoring.”

“Sherry was just a friend.”

“We intentionally put her in a vulnerable situation with you, and you fucked up her initiation! You were supposed to take advantage of her, but instead, acted like the perfect gentleman. Camille was so nauseatingly smug about it that I would have liked to kill her. If Camille didn’t vouch that you were heterosexual, there would have been gossip.”

I laughed. “Sherry wouldn’t have appreciated me taking advantage of her.”

There was no humor in Lynette’s eyes. “Sherry would have taken it in all three holes from you, and paused for pictures at every point.”

I shook my head. “Some people have a weird sense of priorities.”

“You are the most wonderful man I’ve met, and yet you have an inferiority complex.”

“Who are you in love with, Lynette? Kristen or me?”

“Both of you.”

“You were willing to leave me before.”

“You’re not perfect, Jim. You’re the best guy I’ve met, though.”

I sighed. It was difficult to think when your heart was tugging you in every direction at once.

* * *

I didn’t meet Kristen at O’Hare.

It wasn’t my fault. I woke up in time. June was in my bed with me. She felt me stir, and whispered, “You awake?”

“Yeah,” I said, not realizing the mistake I just made.

“Great!” June said, happily. Her head descended on my prick, sending me into exquisite torture.

“So, this is what it’s like to die,” I said, half to myself.

“Your Goddess is arriving in a couple of hours,” June said. “I have my orders. Cunt Whore is supposed to keep you here until she arrives. I will do whatever I have to do to keep you in this bed.”

“You’re not Cunt Whore anymore. You don’t need to…”

“Cunt Whore has to,” June said, seriously. “Let Kristen make her own entrance. You can tell her about your decision later, but since she doesn’t know the new rules, I’m reverting to the old ones.”

June went down on me, and did her damnedest to make sure that I’d not be able to come again for a while.

After she was done, I looked at her laying next to me. I said, “How do you do it?”

June and I laughed for about ten minutes straight at that.

* * *

I was teaching Merry the little I knew about pool.

I decided to show Merry the quadruple bank shot Camille used against Kristen months ago. I practiced that particular shot in secret, and I was about eight out of ten with it. Camille advised that trick shots should be nine out of ten, though, but I ignored her advice. I set up the shot and took it. I made it through four banks, but the angle on the last bank wasn’t quite right.

“That’s stupid,” Merry said. “Why didn’t you just shoot straight across?”

“Good question, Shortcake!” I said, cursing myself. I tried to make myself look like a great pool hustler and ended up looking like a really stupid asshole.

“Rack ‘em up, Jim.”

I racked them up, and allowed Merry to break. She wasn’t bad, but she wasn’t a great player. However, whenever I tried to be fancy, like take an unnecessary bank shot, I’d miss. It made the game quite close.

“Eight ball on the opposite side pocket,” I called. I took the shot, and made it.

“Cool!” Merry said. “Can we play for stakes?”

“Like what?” I asked, innocently.

“Article of clothing per game.”

“No strip pool, munchkin!”

“Munchkin?”

“Sorry, Shortcake.”

“Get us straight. Call June Munchkin!”

June? She wasn’t that small. “She’s the same size as you!”

“I heard she could munch, though.”

I started wondering what my own step-sister knew about the women in my life.

* * *

How do you explain it when the love of your life walks into your playroom, and sees you naked except for boxers, and your kid sister in her bra and panties?

This was the situation that I was in when Kristen arrived. To my credit, Merry had four solids on the table, whereas I only had the eight ball to worry about.

Merry took her shot, and nothing went in. (We called this the “poke and hope” shot, which is an expression that Camille taught us.)

The position that Merry left me was perfect. It was a straight hit into the side pocket. I knew that side pockets were a bit more difficult than corner shots, but I lined it up and knew that I was perfect.

I lined up the shot, remembering Camille’s instructions on how to exert more control of the cue.

“Fifty bucks says he’s going to miss!” Kristen said.

I glared at my blonde Goddess, and realigned my shot.

“Five thousand says he’s going to make it.”

I didn’t know that Camille came back—I thought that she was going to stay in New England. I looked back and saw her. She just smiled at me.

“Five thousand, one shot,” Kristen agreed.

I refused to acknowledge what the girls were doing around me. I lined up the shot once again, and closed my mind to all distractions. I pulled the cue back and shot…

Plunk! I made it!

“Five thousand, Goddess!” Camille laughed.

“You’ve got it, Cammy,” Kristen said.

“What do you say now?” Camille prodded.

Kristen looked at me and said, “I’m sorry, Jim. I won’t bet against you ever again.”

“Maybe you just shouldn’t bet against Cammy, Kris!”

Kristen looked at me, then at Camille, and then at me. “I think you have found the winning strategy!”

Merry started reaching behind her back in a motion that I recognized that a girl does when removing her bra. It took me a few minutes to explain to Merry that I really didn’t want her to lose any more of her clothes.

* * *

Apparently, after lunch was the “How Big An Asshole Was Jim These Past Two Weeks” competition. All the girls spent a lot of time relishing my clay feet and my lack of trust.

If I wanted to feel the way I was feeling, I could just have Archy come over and call me a serial rapist again.

Patty noticed how I was feeling first. “Girls, Jim doesn’t need all this shit on him.”

Unfortunately, the girls ignored Patty.

When June started going on about the shower episode with Merry, I had my fill.

“FUCK YOU ALL!” I shouted. “I made a fucking mistake. I apologized, and I have to relive this shit?”

I left the room, and walked out into the parking lot. I walked home. I saw cars coming along the road where I was walking. In every case, I found that I could duck onto the side of the road in case it was one of the girls.

Merry was home when I got there. I glared at her, daring her to say anything. I think it worked, as she didn’t say anything.

For the first time in months, I slept in my bed in my parents’ house and I didn’t want to leave.

It turned out that my ally, other than Patty, was Merry. Both girls seemed to know how I felt, and they both thought that I was wronged.

Merry had a solution for my problem. She kept everybody from me, period.

There were many people at the front door of our house. My mother’s instinct would be to invite them in, but Merry would give her a look as if doing so would be inviting a deadly plague into our house.

Nobody, not even June or Kristen, could get past Merry.

I woke up alone the next morning.

If that statement doesn’t seem important, you should realize that statement hadn’t applied to me since I moved into Kristen’s apartment after her birthday party.

Well, at least, I’m back in my own home, I thought. My parents are good people. They wouldn’t turn on you like those people I thought were my friends.

I saw Merry at the door to my room. “Are you awake?” Merry whispered.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“Everybody came over,” Merry said. “I told them to fuck themselves. I just told them what you told them. Mom and Dad didn’t seem to get angry.”

“I love you, Shortcake.”

Merry beamed at me.

“Um, Patty’s downstairs.”

“Oh?” Patty was the one person who wasn’t on my shit list. I could never refuse Patty anything. “Send her in.”

Merry left and a minute or so later, Patty came into my room.

“Patty! Why do they hate me?”

“Jim, you don’t take criticism well.”

“I love criticism,” I said, truthfully. “It shows my weaknesses and I address them in my next project.”

“What if the project is life?” Patty asked.

“Huh?” I asked, not following Patty.

Patty shut the door to my room. “How were you criticized, Jim?”

“I’m a serial rapist. I don’t trust my own friends, I am the worst…”

“Enough,” Patty said. “You’re back to where you were when you got pissed off.”

“No, Patty,” I said, sadly. “We’re back to where I was being attacked.”

“You don’t take personal criticism very well.”

“Kristen was on their side, laughing. I thought she understood me. How could she take their side?”

“I can’t answer that, Jim,” Patty answered. “You’ll have to ask her yourself.”

“I won’t,” I said. “If she doesn’t take my side then she’s against me.”

“That stupid and paranoid, Jim,” Patty said.

“Patty, I trust you of all people. Was leaving the apartment wrong?”

Patty paused, considering her answer. Finally, she said, “I saw you getting angry, and I knew that you were about to blow up. June and Lynette really don’t know this side of you. You are in a difficult position with many people thinking you’re nearly perfect, and you disagree with that. This blow up was destined to happen.”

“That wasn’t an answer to my question,” I pointed out.

“You were probably right to feel the way you did. You were wrong to leave. Jim, nobody knew how you were feeling. You didn’t say anything. You started to withdraw into yourself, and I saw it, but nobody else did. I didn’t want you to blow up like that.”

“I slept alone last night.”

“So did Kristen. Kristen cried herself to sleep.”

I might have thought that everybody was against me except Patty and Merry, but hearing that about Kristen put all that behind me. “She did?”

Patty nodded. “Kris is out in my car. Merry won’t let her in. Your sister protects you like a pit bull, Jim.”

“What should I do, Patty?”

Patty shook her head. “Jim, you are a good person. Trust your instincts.”

“Which means?”

“How are you feeling right now?”

“I think maybe I went too far.”

“I was there at lunch yesterday. Do you want to know why all those things were brought up? People were trying to tell Kristen how great you are. You only heard the bad things, like June explaining how you overreacted to finding her in the shower with Merry. June wasn’t telling that story to highlight your failing. She told it to highlight the ending: you fixed it. Can you understand that?”

“I thought…”

“Every time you do something wrong, it sticks in your mind. You find a solution and make things better, and at that point, the entire episode shouldn’t be a bad memory. You seem to dwell on the first part, though. You constantly dwell on how you nearly destroyed Kristen’s life, but you don’t think much about how both your life and hers have gone for the better since that time.”

There was a knock on my bedroom door. It was Merry.

“Hello, Shortcake!”

“Kristen says she’s sorry.”

“Kristen didn’t do anything wrong,” I said.

“Oh,” Merry said, confused. “Wasn’t she on the shit list?”

I looked up at Patty. “I took it out on Kris, didn’t I?”

Patty nodded.

“Tell Kris I’ll be right down, Shortcake.”

I threw the covers off the bed, not caring that Patty saw my nakedness. I found a clean but old pair of jeans and a faded T-shirt.

I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth—I didn’t want to make a bad impression on Kristen.

Patty and I went downstairs, and Kristen was in the living room.

“Hi, Kris,” I said.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” Kristen said. “I didn’t mean…”

“Let’s leave it at ‘I’m sorry,’ and I’ll add my own: I’m sorry.”

Kristen and I kissed.

The love of my life looked at what I was wearing. “How old are those jeans?”

“A few years,” I admitted.

Kristen shook her head. “Patty, could you drive us to the mall?”

“Sure.”

“Can I come?” Merry asked.

Kristen and Patty were smiling. I turned to my sister and replied, “Of course, if your dad agrees.”

Merry ran off to find her dad.

Patty suggested, “You two should find some time to be alone. I mean, really alone.”

Kristen nodded. “It’s been two weeks.”

“How is Will?” I asked.

“He’s doing great. He’ll be even better when Camille comes back.”

“I didn’t think she was coming back with you.”

Kristen looked thoughtfully at me and said, “You should talk with her.”

I looked from Kristen to Patty, who nodded.

What was going on with Camille?

* * *

The trip to the mall was to get me some “decent outfits.” I endured the three females’ attempt to force some fashion sense into me.

From there, Patty drove us to the apartment. Patty needed to leave for her job at Roman’s and couldn’t stay. She drove Merry home.

Neither June nor Lynette was in the apartment. It seemed empty.

“I slept alone last night,” Kristen said.

“So did I,” I said.

“Let’s not do this again.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon making sweet, passionate love.

* * *

Camille showed up at the apartment that evening.

When she arrived, I greeted her. “Hey, Cammy! I didn’t get much chance to say ‘Hi’ yesterday.”

Camille nodded. She was very quiet, which was unusual for her.

“I came back to give you a message,” Camille said.

“Couldn’t Kristen have delivered it?”

Camille didn’t answer me, but kissed me on the lips. It was one of the few times we did anything romantic together without Kristen being with us. Kristen was one floor down, practicing her pool.

After we broke the kiss, Camille said, “I didn’t kiss you good bye, Jim.”

Camille left, leaving me completely floored.

I went downstairs, and saw that Camille’s mother’s car was no longer in the driveway.

I found Kristen in the playroom. “Camille was just here.”

“Did she give you her message?” Kristen asked.

“She kissed me and then left.”

“Will spanked her for forgetting to kiss you good-bye. I told on her.” Kristen wore a grin on her face.

“Where is she?”

“I think she’s on her way to her mother’s house, so her mother can drop her off at the airport.”

“She came back to Illinois just to give me a good-bye kiss?”

“Would you have preferred a good-bye fuck?” Kristen asked. “I’ve heard that Camille can be as addicting as you seem to be.”

“Huh?”

“Camille is in love with you, Jim. She says she’s in love with me, but it’s not the same as when Lynette says it. You don’t think she’s in love with Will, do you?”

“Of course I do!”

“Will is her future, but Will isn’t her love. They will always have lovers, but they will share. That’s their way, and they are perfect for each other that way. We share lovers as well, but I don’t think that will define our relationship as much as it will hers. There are three other women that love you as much as she and I love you.”

I stood there, stunned.

Kristen went on. “Sherry Jordan would love to replace me, you know. She is too nice a person to actually do that. I’ve been talking to Patty and she thinks that if you were to sleep with Sherry, she’d be yours for life. I’m sure not willing to take that chance! In addition, June loves you almost as much as either Sherry or Camille, but you know and she knows that you will not fuck her because you know her future is with Archy.”

“You said there were four—three others, not two.”

“You know the fourth. She’s the one that loved you first. Even before Sherry.”

Was Kristen suggesting the person that I thought she was? “That’s crazy. That’s a silly crush. Merry’s going to have an endless line of boyfriends.”

“And Merry will sleep around, like Lynette and Camille, until she finds somebody that will love her as much as she feels for you.”

“Then I’m going to have to find Merry a boyfriend quickly.”

“Let her choose her own life, Jim. She wants you, but you don’t want her. At least give her the freedom to make her own decisions.”

I shook my head. “I can’t have Merry sleeping around like that.”

Kristen turned and looked me straight in the eye. “Why not?”

“Because… because…” I tried to come up with a good reason.

“Because you love her, too.”

“Not like that!”

Kristen shook her head, but she smiled. “You need to find out how much. I’m not telling you to fuck her. You know, having her make friends with June was a great idea. You should enlist Sherry as well.”

“Sherry might be a good idea,” I said, half to myself. I really wanted Merry to get on the cheerleading squad.

“Stop manipulating her, and let her live her own life. Think about how you were last year when we met.”

“I had a roll of tickets and almost fucked you over royally.”

Kristen laughed. “But you also had fun. Remember Kneely Park? You told me you only needed to use the tickets the first time. The girls chose the repeat performance themselves. I went the second time because Patty told me how funny it all was.”

“Funny, huh?” I asked. I considered what Kristen said and added, “That sounds good. Hey, Merry! Let me have Kristen and June take you to a special place at Kneely Park.”

Kristen was still laughing. “Just let her make her own decisions. She’s not going to rape you, you know. She likes you too much for that. Again, the best thing about all the women that love you is that they love me too, and they don’t compete with me because of that. Camille knows that she could steal you away unintentionally, so she moved to where her future is.”

“Camille? Steal me?” I asked. I was incredulous.

Kristen gave me an odd look, and didn’t reply.

I considered what Kristen just said. I decided to drop the mention of Camille stealing me away. “So, Camille’s future is Will and an endless collection of guys and girls?”

“It’s who Camille is. You could make her a woman devoted to a single man, but that wouldn’t be the Camille you know, would it?”

I shook my head.

“Life is pretty fucked up here in the suburbs, huh?” Kristen joked.

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought I was on a fucking soap opera. Let’s rename our town “Peyton Place.”

“Lynette called earlier and wants to know if she’s invited over.”

“Invited?” Lynette was, by now, a permanent fixture in our apartment.

“You were pissed at her, before. The fact that you got upset worried her to death. She will only come over if you tell her that you’re no longer angry.”

“Patty helped me understand what I was doing.”

“I know that, but Lynette doesn’t know that. I imagine that June is feeling bad about what she said, too.”

Oh, shit. Luckily there was a wall phone in the playroom. I quickly dialed Lynette’s number, and Lynette answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, Lynette!”

“Jim!” Lynette seemed surprised, but also apprehensive.

“I’m sorry for blowing up at you yesterday.”

Lynette answered, “No, Jim. I’m really sorry. I didn’t think about your feelings. I mean, everybody loves telling Oogie Stories…”

“I know, I know,” I said. “I’m starting to get sick of these Oogie Stories!”

“Oh, no!” Lynette said, thinking that I didn’t understand them. “They’re stories that people tell to see if they can top somebody else’s about the wonderful things you do.”

“It didn’t sound as if you were telling a wonderful story, Lynette.”

“I didn’t get to the end, but the story was about how you thought that somebody might be mistreating your sister. Everybody I told that story to envies your sister.”

I shook my head, but realized that Lynette couldn’t see that. “Please don’t tell Oogie Stories in front of me, Lynette. I think that I have a different reaction to them. I think of them as times that I’m being an asshole.”

Lynette asked. “That’s precious, Jim! Can I tell that one to others? A new Oogie Story!”

I was speechless until Lynette’s laughter told me she was kidding. Well, maybe she wasn’t really kidding, but it broke the tension.

“Am I invited over? My parents hadn’t expected me to be here last night. They sort of want to turn my room over to my sister…”

“Of course, Lynette. Please come over.”

“Thank you, Oogie!”

The phone clicked.

Next, I dialed June’s house. Mrs. Rodgers answered. “Um, Mrs. Rodgers? This is Jim Crittenhouse.”

Mrs. Rodgers said, “Is there a problem, Jim?”

“Um, no,” I said. “I just wanted to speak with June.”

“I thought June was at your apartment.”

Huh? “Um, maybe she’s on her way.”

“She left about a half hour ago.”

This was confusing, but I realized that security no longer announced June and Lynette. As long as either Kristen or I were around, June could come in, and Lynette already moved in with us.

“I’ve been downstairs. I’ll check upstairs. Thanks, Mrs. Rodgers!”

I hung up.

“What’s wrong?” Kristen asked.

“June’s supposed to be here,” I said. “Her mother says she left a half hour ago.”

I left the playroom and looked out onto the driveway. June’s mother’s car was in the driveway.

That’s funny, I thought. Why didn’t June look for us down in the playroom?

I went upstairs into the apartment and saw why June wasn’t downstairs.

June was nude, and she chained herself to the hooks on the floor that I showed her mother. She wore handcuffs on her wrists and ankles. Her ass was up in the air. I could see that her crotch was oozing.

“June! How long have you been here?”

“I can’t tell. Fifteen minutes, maybe?”

June had a hood over her face.

I looked at the picture that June presented. The hooks were a bit far apart, actually.

Kristen gasped when she walked into the apartment behind me. “Why didn’t you call to us?” Kristen asked.

“I’m being punished for embarrassing Oogie,” June said.

“Who is punishing you?” Kristen demanded.

Merry walked out of the spare bedroom. “Like my handiwork?”

“Merry!” Kristen and I both screamed in surprise.

“June told me what Jim told her mother. She got the stuff from her mother—June thinks she’s too afraid to actually go through with it—and I helped her connect the chains to the hooks and put the black bag over her head.”

“Why?”

“June told me she wanted to be punished, and asked me for help. She said if I did this for her, she’d have Sherry give me acrobatic lessons.”

This sadomasochistic scene was completely incongruous with the modest, pristine Merry.

Kristen started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded.

“Your face, Jim! It’s classic!”

Merry started laughing as well. “Jim, I’m going to be sixteen next month! How old were you when Patty started coming upstairs to your room?”

It was difficult for me to contemplate Merry and her budding sexuality.

“You did wonderful, Merry!” Kristen said.

“Yeah, Merry,” June agreed.

“Thanks,” Merry said, a bit shyly. “Kristen, June wanted me to ask you if you had KY jelly.”

This was too much for me. June was bound up and blindfolded with her ass in the air, and my kid sister was asking for some lubrication.

“I’ll get some for you,” Kristen said, helpfully.

“Hey, everyone!” Lynette said, entering the apartment. She took one look at June and said, “Ooh, can I be next?”

Kristen came out of the bathroom with a tube. “Hi, Lynette!”

“Cool scene. Your idea?” Lynette asked.

Kristen shook her head. “Jim’s. He offered this to June’s mother when she objected to him treating her daughter as a whore.”

“A whore?” Merry asked.

“Cunt Whore,” June explained, helpfully.

“Cunt Whore?” Merry asked again, confused.

“My mom’s Ass Whore, and this is going to be her first activity.”

“Ouch!” Merry said.

Lynette looked at me, quite impressed. “I never figured you for that sort of scene, Oogie.”

“It’s not. It was just something to scare June’s mom.”

“Mom is trying to work up the courage to go through with it. I saw her with one wrist and ankle bound. Mom was embarrassed, but she didn’t hide.”

“Can somebody tell me where the Candid Camera is?” I asked.

“Camera!” Kristen said, getting an idea. “One minute!”

Kristen returned from the kitchen and took some pictures of June. “Cool!”

I was dumbfounded as the four women so casually accepted June’s predicament. “Come on, June. Get out of there. Where are the keys to the handcuffs?”

“I, um… left them at home.” June did not sound one bit sorry.

“That’s true,” agreed Merry. “She told me that when she was putting them on.”

“How are you going to get out of this?”

“Well, I didn’t think I’d get so tired. I guess you’ll have to have my mom come over…”

“NO!” I shouted. “Kris, doesn’t your father have tools?”

“My dad?” Kristen laughed. “Actually, we have a tool shed, but he doesn’t use it.”

“Think you can find bolt cutters?” I asked.

“Not until June gets her ass fucked.”

“June told me the first time I was with her that she doesn’t do that.”

“I think June is telling you differently now,” Merry said.

“Why is June doing this if Jim suggested it for her mother?” Lynette asked.

“June wants to be punished for having Jim get angry at her.”

“Ooh! I’m definitely next!” Lynette said happily. “I angered Jim, too.”

“If he cuts the cuffs, you won’t be able to do it properly, and Mom said they were about a hundred dollars when she purchased both pairs.”

I couldn’t believe this situation. I went into the bedroom and called June’s mother and asked her to come over and bring the keys to the handcuffs.

“The keys?” Mrs. Rodgers asked.

“Yes. To the handcuffs.”

“Bring them to your apartment?”

“June’s cuffed herself. I’d like to uncuff her.”

There was a long pause, and finally Mrs. Rodgers said, “I guess.”

I hung up the phone, wondering why Mrs. Rodgers would be hesitant to help her daughter.

“I’ve called for the keys.”

“You called my mom?” June asked.

“Yeah.”

“And she’s coming here?”

“That’s the point.”

June started laughing.

Why didn’t I get the jokes? “What’s so fucking funny?”

“Kristen, did you get a picture of Jim’s face when he saw me?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Kristen said.

“Get ready, Kris, I am not able to see him with this hood on.”

“Why?” I asked.

June started laughing again. “Do you remember how you asked my mother to come over here the next time?”

Oh, shit!

Kristen got two pictures of me with my mouth open in surprise.

Lynette took the tube of KY jelly that Kristen put down on a cocktail table. “Want me to lube June up?”

“Most certainly not!”

Lynette squinted. “I’ve done anal before, and I don’t recommend doing her first time dry. She seems to be pretty lubricated in the other area, though. It might be enough.”

“I squirt when I orgasm,” June suggested.

“I remember!” Lynette said, and approached the black cheerleader and started to caress her cunt lips.

“Stop that!” I said, amazed that Lynette would actually be doing this in front of Merry.

“Please, Mr. Big?” Lynette asked.

“Mr. Big?” Merry asked.

“She’s Pussy Slave, and calls Kristen Mistress and Jim Mr. Big!” June informed Merry.

“How kinky!” Merry said, smiling, and watching Lynette fondle June.

“Are you going to fuck her ass, or will I have to get one of Camille’s toys that she left here?” Kristen asked.

“Toys?” Merry asked.

“Camille left us her largest double-ended dildo,” Lynette said. “Kristen and I were going to try it out.”

This was too much information. “Kristen, take Merry downstairs.”

“I’m not Pussy Slave,” Kristen said. “You’ve always told me that I’m allowed to participate in anything you do, Jim.”

“Lynette… Pussy Slave, take Merry downstairs!”

Lynette turned to Kristen, who nodded. “Yes, Mr. Big.”

Lynette took Merry, and handed the tube back to Kristen before she left.

Kristen resumed fondling June.

“If you don’t give June what she wants, Jim, you’re sleeping in the spare bedroom, and the five of us women will take the master bedroom.”

“Five? You’re including Merry?”

“June’s mom, too.”

“No.” I said, my voice final. “I don’t want Merry doing girls.”

“How about if girls do Merry?” Kristen asked.

“Huh?”

“Merry’s already given consent, Jim. Lynette knows that. Which room downstairs do you think they’re going to?”

“NO!” I shouted. I made a dash for the door.

“Stop!” Kristen demanded. “If you don’t do this for June, you’ll regret it.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

I took a deep breath. “All right. June’s given her consent, since she set herself up like this. However, I didn’t give consent for anal sex. What about my feelings?”

Kristen and I locked eyes for a couple of silent minutes.

I was about to go downstairs to see if I could stave off Lynette and Merry when the intercom buzzed. “Some woman who identifies herself as Ass Whore is at the gate. I assume she’s one of your guests.”

I sighed. “Let her in.”

* * *

A completely nude Mrs. Rodgers was in the apartment a minute later.

“Did it hurt, honey?” Mrs. Rodgers asked.

“He didn’t start yet.”

“Oh.”

“You now have two problems, if you ignore Lynette, who just said she has experience,” Kristen pointed out.

“Hello, Miss Swift,” Mrs. Rodgers said, a bit of embarrassment in her voice.

“If you are Ass Whore, the house rules are that you call me Mistress. You call my boyfriend one of two names. I would suggest Master, as Cunt Whore does, as Pussy Slave’s name might be a bit… worrisome.”

“Pussy Slave?”

“Lynette Robbins, head cheerleader last year,” June said.

“Do you have a thing for cheerleaders?” Mrs. Rodgers asked.

“The cheerleaders have a thing for my Master, Mom.”

“Ass Whore,” Kristen corrected.

“Sorry,” June said.

I sighed. This had to be an X-rated version of Twilight Zone.

“You look confused, Master,” Mrs. Rodgers said.

“This is totally unreal!”

“You are the one that suggested this. This isn’t your scene?”

“Actually, no. I only said that to scare you.”

“It worked.”

Kristen laughed. “You’re here now, Ass Whore.”

“I realized how much June… Cum Whore’s… muscles will probably…”

“Cunt Whore,” Kristen corrected.

“Cunt Whore’s muscles will probably be aching by now.”

“It isn’t easy, actually,” June said.

“Please unlock her,” I begged, hoping that somebody would show an ounce of intelligence.

“No, Master!” June said.

Mrs. Rodgers looked confused.

“If you won’t fuck my ass, then I demand some other punishment like this. This is a good position for a spanking.”

I didn’t think a spanking would be so bad, but I couldn’t do that in front of her mother. Mrs. Rodgers seemed to have come to terms with her daughter’s unconventional relationship with Kristen and me, and wasn’t a bad person really. Abusing her daughter, even a spanking, would still be crossing a line that I didn’t want to cross.

Kristen decided to let me off the hook.

“Cunt Whore, how many spankings? Ten?”

“Ten sounds good,” June agreed.

“Pick your tormentor, Cunt Whore. Mistress, Ass Whore, or Pussy Slave.”

“Not Master?” June sounded disappointed.

“Let’s not bully him.”

“Pussy Slave, then.”

“All right. Ass Whore, Pussy Slave is downstairs. She’s… busy. Tell her to come upstairs and you can take her place there.”

“What’s she doing?” Mrs. Rodgers asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Kristen answered. “Get to it.”

I watched June’s mother leave and I asked, “Why Lynette?”

“She won’t hold back,” June answered. “I’ve been spanked by her before.”

“Really?”

“Do you think all cheerleader initiations are as tame as the one we did for you?”

That surprised me. “For me?”

“Camille said you have a soft spot not just in your heart, but in your entire being. We gave Sherry the real initiation later on that day.”

I was learning new things every day.

“Ass Whore said I was to administer spankings?” Lynette said, entering the apartment.

“Yes,” Kristen said.

“That’s my Mom,” June said.

“I recognized her, and I remember you said what her name here is,” Lynette said. “Ruler or brush?”

“Bare hands,” I said.

“How many?”

“Ten.”

“Kristen, can you come over here and help. When I hit her, she’s going to fall toward the wall. If you put your body between hers and the wall…”

“Good idea,” Kristen said. “And I’m Mistress!”

“Sorry.”

Kristen got into position. It was a tight fit.

Even though I wasn’t administering the spankings, it was difficult to watch June being spanked. I’m glad that Kristen sent June’s mother downstairs. Lynette wasn’t cruel, but her experience showed. There was no hesitation and no attempt to make it too soft.

After the spanking, June said, “Thank you Pussy Slave!” There were tears in her eyes, but she wasn’t really crying.

Kristen pointed to the table where June’s mother placed the keys, and Lynette quickly unlatched June. Kristen helped June get up. Her muscles seemed to be a bit sore from maintaining her position for so long.

As soon as she could, June ran to me and hugged me so tightly. I was almost sad that I hadn’t ass fucked her. I even wimped out on spanking her. This didn’t seem to matter to June, who couldn’t get enough of her body pressed against me.

Kristen said, “Take the master bedroom, Jim.”

“What about you and Lynette?” I asked.

“Merry might need a bit more cleaning up.”

Before I could object, Kristen and Lynette simply left the apartment. I felt June start to tug me toward the master bedroom.

“I thought you were no longer Cunt Whore,” I said, gently.

“Only when I want to get punished.”

“Oh.”

“Promise me something, Jim.”

“Anything,” I said.

“I want that ass fucking, and I want it from you. There is no way that I’ll ever take Archy there, he’s too big. If you don’t, then I’ll feel as if my sex life will never be complete, because once Archy takes my virginity, I will never be with another man or woman again.”

“Don’t make promises your body can’t keep. I promised to love only Kristen, and look at me now.”

“I don’t think we’ll have the problems or opportunities that you and Kris have.”

“I love you, June.”

“I know, Jim. I love you, too.”

“It may take me some time, but I promise to take you the way you just requested. Let me work it out. Lynette said she was experienced with anal. If she agrees, let me try first with her, all right?”

“Oh, Jim! If you do Lynette, then I know you’ll have no reason to refuse me!”

I hadn’t thought of it that way.

I brought June to four orgasms that afternoon, and June sucked me dry with one of her mind blowing blow jobs.

Chapter 27—Death of a Slave

You think you lost your love,

When I saw her yesterday.

It’s you she’s thinking of

And she told me what to say.

She says she loves you

And you know that can’t be bad.

Yes, she loves you

And you know you should be glad. Ooh!

The Beatles

She Loves You

June and I were laying in bed when I said, “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Nothing… I mean, I hear nothing. I could hear squeals from downstairs before, but everything is quiet.”

“Kris told me that she plans to take Merry to bed with you. She said it as if it was a given.”

“This is news to me.”

June frowned. “I told Kristen that it might not be a good idea, but she didn’t seem to want to listen. I then told her that bringing Merry into bed with the two of you would make about as much sense as Kristen bringing Sherry into your bed.”

I nodded and smiled. I didn’t think that Merry’s crush on me was much like Sherry’s, but then again, I hadn’t really had this discussion with her. After the episode with June and her mother and Merry’s willing participation in it, I wasn’t exactly sure what to think. I finally said what was bothering me. “You’re just as bad, June.”

“Huh?”

“You included Merry in your little game of punishment.”

June shook her head slowly, and softly said, “I was trying to avoid a problem, Jim.”

“Avoid? It looks like you dragged her head first into it!”

June looked at me for a few moments before answering. “To tell you the truth, I think I was trying to scare her, sort of the way that Kristen did with Marla.”

I nodded, unable to remain angry at June. I had made more than my own share of mistakes. “I don’t think you succeeded. You may have opened Pandora’s box.”

June sighed. She looked so cute that I hugged her, and we hugged for a few minutes. Finally, she said, “What I was trying to tell you before is that I think that Kristen wants to expand your sexual horizons whether you want it or not. Lynette told me that Kristen instigated all the sexual stuff at the villa a few weeks ago.”

I nodded. Lynette hadn’t told me, but I was able to realize that things seemed to be working in a certain direction that Kristen seemed to want. I wasn’t sure what to make of the situation. Kristen showed restraint when it came to me ass fucking June, and due to that, I was willing to make a promise to actually perform that act. When I did, however, it would be when I felt better about it.

Intellectually, I realized that the girls in the communal shower probably took liberties with Merry, but it was with her consent. If I allowed such decisions to be made by myself a year ago, then Merry should have the same luxury, although some chauvinistic part of me thought that things should be different for girls—or at least Merry.

As for whether or not I would actually engage in sexual activity with Merry, I would make that decision when it came up. I had a feeling that Kristen would allow me to take it at my own pace, and only prod me if I took too long to reach the same conclusion that Kristen already reached. There was a part of me that might resent Kristen if she pushed me in a direction that I had decided not to go, but this hadn’t happened yet so I decided it would be silly to get angry with Kristen over this before it actually happened.

I knew in my heart that there would probably be boundaries that Kristen wouldn’t have me cross. Fucking Archy in the ass—or, worse yet, having him do that to me—would be something that I’d stand firm on avoiding.

It occurred to me that I was laying in bed, completely and utterly sexually sated by the lovable June, and I was thinking of my lovely blonde Goddess. Life was swell.

* * *

I woke up as Kristen came into bed with me. We didn’t make love, which was unusual, but I curled up behind her and spooned with her as I rubbed her tits. I fell asleep with Kristen purring in front of me, and June snoring lightly behind me.

The next morning, I woke up to something that would normally be a nightmare: June had my cock in her mouth and she was in position to do one of her gargantuan numbers on me. I knew better than to complain, however. Instead, I just sighed. “What a way to die!” I breathed.

For some reason, June thought this was funny. Unfortunately, she had my erection deep in her throat as she started to laugh, and she started to choke.

Kristen had to actually pull June off me.

It took about four or five minutes for June to calm down.

“Kristen? Mistress?” June asked when she got her voice back.

“Yes?”

“Next time, am I allowed to gag Jim? I almost choked just now!”

Kristen just laughed. “Maybe you shouldn’t wake him up that way.”

“You do.”

“It seems that I’m not as devastating as you are, June.”

“I’m not Cunt Whore?” June asked.

Kristen shook her head. “Archy is gone. If Jim agrees, I think we’d love to have you share our bed as a friend and not as a servant.”

“Jim already suggested that,” June said, softly.

There were tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, June?” I asked, confused.

“Nothing…” June sniffed, and then started crying.

My cock wilted as June cried over me. I looked at Kristen and she shrugged at me.

“I’m sorry,” June said, brushing the tears from her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I repeated.

“I’m… fuck, fuck, fuck!” June cursed. She took a few minutes to try to compose herself.

I pulled June upward so that her naked body was on mine. “What’s wrong, June?” I asked again.

“How do you fucking do it? Kristen said that you were devastating, but she was wrong. I have been with you for a short period of time, taking everything you threw at me. I don’t think I’m equipped to handle the two of you together.”

“So, maybe it’s time to start some Goddess Stories,” I said.

“Don’t you fucking DARE!” Kristen cried.

June laughed, but her tears were still on her face.

“I’m sorry, June,” I said, hugging the black cheerleader as tight as I could. “You are devastating yourself.”

June smiled. “Archy says that.”

“You miss him, don’t you?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Let’s just snuggle together. The three of us,” I suggested.

It must have worked.

* * *

Patty, Kristen, June, and Lynette relived the Kneely Park parties we had almost a year ago. June and Lynette hadn’t been a part last year, but with Camille and Wendy on opposite coasts and not in the Midwest where we lived, they made adequate replacements.

In the spirit of reliving things, we decided to do nothing more than we did a year before. That basically limited everybody to relating a fantasy while masturbating. It was fun, but mostly tame compared to the activities that sometimes happened at the apartment.

While we were at Kneely Park, June informed me that her mother was a little relieved, but also a little disappointed that I didn’t really have any interest in ass fucking. She was no longer working up the courage to bind herself as June did. Patty hadn’t heard about June’s mother, and the three other girls delighted her with the Oogie Stories about me handling June’s mother, and also about how June bound herself to get punished, necessitating her mother to arrive, completely nude, to provide the key to the handcuffs.

“You know, Jim,” Kristen pointed out, “I bet the keys to my handcuffs would have worked.”

“You have handcuffs?” June asked, surprised.

“Yeah. I once harbored a desire to have Jim dominate me. However, having Lynette and June over, I found that I prefer being in charge.”

June and Lynette nodded.

“Dominating people doesn’t get me off that much,” I said, softly. “I prefer snuggling and kissing and all that other stuff. One of my favorite surprises was when Kristen revealed that she had a communal shower installed downstairs next to the playroom during the Senior Weekend. I think we’ve gone through close to a hundred bars of soap since then!”

“Jim loves rubbing soap on women’s breasts,” Kristen said, giggling, and Lynette and June agreed.

“In the shower is the closest I can get to fucking June with the least amount of danger,” I said. “The soap helps me slide between her legs. You should hear June howl when I do that!”

“June’s a screamer,” Lynette agreed.

“I know,” Patty said. “Everybody heard her at the villa in the shower room they had there.”

June blushed sweetly, but smiled.

* * *

The next day, Jackie arrived at the gate.

“Hey, Jackie,” Kristen said on the intercom. “What’s up?”

“I’d like to speak to you and Jim,” Jackie answered.

“Come on in,” Kristen invited them.

A few minutes later, Jackie drove what used to be Camille’s red Toyota into our parking lot and came into the apartment.

“What’s up, Jackie,” I said when Jackie arrived.

“I need to ask you guys a favor.”

“Anything, Jackie,” Kristen said.

“It’s about Merry’s initiation. She is the only sophomore that made it this year.”

“Cool! Merry must be so happy!” I said.

“We haven’t told her, yet. I wanted to talk to you, first. I’d like to tell her tomorrow, though.”

“This is about Merry’s initiation?” I repeated.

“Yeah. Lynette and June seem to think—well, they say that they know—that Merry will choose you to accompany her for her initiation. There’s no other guy in her life.”

I remembered Sherry’s initiation last fall. It was mostly harmless. “That’s not a problem,” I said.

“It’s not going to be same as last year, Jim. That’s why I wanted to talk to you and Kris. We only do the special initiation for special cases, and when sophomores are involved. Last year, Camille said that if we went as far as we usually do, you’d object, and Sherry would bail, so they gave Sherry and me a special initiation that was quite tame. None of the cheerleaders will accept that you’re a prude this year, Jim, and unfortunately, that includes Merry. All of us from last year know about Lynette and June. Lynette also told me that Merry wouldn’t have a problem with the initiation.”

I remembered that Lynette told me that Sherry’s initiation with me was a bit different and I earned a lot of respect from the squad when they found out that I refused to take advantage of Sherry when I was dressing her.

“What’s involved in the real initiation, or are you allowed to tell us?” Kristen asked.

“Jim’s an honorary cheerleader, Kris.”

“Hey!” I said, almost insulted.

“I mean that in a nice way. All the cheerleaders sort of adopted you, you know.”

I smiled. “I know, Jackie.”

“Anyway, since I know that Kristen won’t tell anybody…” Jackie gave Kristen a questioning look.

“No, Jackie! I’d never tell!” Kristen actually crossed her heart with her index finger.

“Then I can tell the two of you the basics. There’s nudity, as you already know. All the cheerleaders will have some time alone with Jim. In addition, there will be some of the boyfriends spending time with a partially nude Merry.”

“There’s, what twenty people on the squad?” Kristen asked.

“Eighteen and ten initiates.”

“How long does this take?” I asked.

“At least two hours,” Jackie answered. “Usually two and a half, but sometimes almost three.”

I looked at Kristen, who simply shrugged at me.

I thought long and hard. Mostly, I was worried about my younger step-sister. At one time or another, I snuggled with most of the cheerleaders. In addition, June, Sherry, and Jackie were all very close friends who were on the squad. “You said that Lynette said that Merry wouldn’t mind?”

Jackie nodded.

“How do you keep things from getting out of hand?” I asked.

“The people not participating in any particular part will be in the gym. Merry will be in the boys’ locker room, and you will be in the girls’ locker room. In addition, there are nine other girls being initiated. They will all be in the same room, and the guys that the cheerleaders bring are all vouched for by the entire team.”

I nodded. “So, if somebody goes too far, a simple protest should suffice to bring in the cavalry.”

Jackie nodded as well. “Yup.”

I said, “Well, if Kristen has no objection to me participating…”

“None whatsoever. I know the Cheerleaders’ Rules, and Merry isn’t a porcelain doll.”

“Then I guess I’ll have no objection,” I said. “Just make sure the guys know that she’s fifteen, and won’t be sixteen until late next month.”

“That’s great, Jim!” Jackie said, happily. Just then, Lynette walked into the apartment. “Hey, Jackie! What’s great?”

“Hello, Lynette!” Jackie replied.

Lynette looked questioningly at Kristen to find out if she was on Pussy Slave duty. As was usual at the apartment, Lynette was nude. Kristen simply signaled to Lynette that her status as a slave on hold for now.

Jackie hadn’t seen the signal get passed, and answered Lynette’s question. “I was discussing Merry’s initiation with Jim and Kris. Jim said he’d wouldn’t mind being Merry’s escort.”

“Merry made the team! That’s great!” Lynette clapped. “She’ll be so happy!” She paused and looked at me. “Jim, the squad’s initiation most likely won’t be like last year…”

“I already told him. I didn’t go into details, but I gave him a general run through.”

Lynette nodded.

“Do they still have you running around here nude?” Jackie asked.

Lynette shrugged. “I hardly ever think about it, except when I have to get dressed to leave. Clothes sometimes get in the way.”

Jackie shook her head. “I still think it would be weird. I could easily see my cousin doing something like that.”

“Try it some weekend,” Lynette suggested.

“Try going nude for a weekend?”

“Oh, I think that Kristen and Jim would allow, maybe, a Junior Pussy Slave for just a weekend…”

Jackie laughed. “No, thanks. I’ve talked with Cammy, and she says that this place is devastating! That’s a lot, coming from her!”

“June does it occasionally, and she doesn’t seem devastated.”

Jackie shrugged. “I’m not like that.”

“You can’t find better people than Jim and Kristen.” Lynette looked at Kristen and me, and added quickly, “I’m sorry, Jim, Kristen. I shouldn’t be talking about you like that.”

“No offense taken,” Kristen assured Lynette.

“I just don’t think that Kristen and I actually need to create a harem,” I added.

Everybody laughed.

Lynette smiled. “Maybe the squad could hold a party here, clothing optional.”

Jackie shook her head. “I think the older ones could handle it. We don’t even know what the new ones will do during the initiation.”

“Huh?” I asked, confused.

“Some of them get spooked, Jim,” Lynette explained.

“What happens then?”

Jackie was about to answer, but Lynette stopped her. “You’ll have to see at the initiation. Jackie may have told you too much already, but I understand why she did. Let the squad have their secrets, Jim.”

I smiled, not insulted at all. “I understand.”

There was a pause in the conversation, since Jackie achieved her objective that she wanted when she came over. Kristen noticed this and said, “Anybody for a game of pool?”

I actually enjoyed playing with Lynette, since we both played at similar levels. Kristen was better than either of us, but I don’t think that any of us saw Jackie play. We were still leery of pool hustlers with the last name “Lombardi.”

“I’ll play,” Jackie smiled.

“I’d rather just hang around up here, Kris, unless you really need a fourth,” Lynette said.

“I’ll stay up here and keep Lynette happy,” I said.

Kristen looked at me for a moment and then smiled. “All right, Jim.”

Jackie and Kristen left the apartment to go downstairs.

Lynette gave me a smile. “The cheerleaders have a great friend in you.”

I shrugged. “Jackie said that you told her that Merry wouldn’t have a problem with the initiation.”

“That’s right.”

“OK. I like hearing from you instead of second hand,” I said. “Not that I think that Jackie would lie to me.”

Lynette nodded.

During the two weeks that Kristen was gone, Lynette and I grew closer together. She wasn’t going to be replacing Kristen for my main affections, but I started to understand her better.

“Why did you turn down a game of pool?” I asked.

“I had a feeling that Kristen will try to get Jackie into the shower down there. I… I sometimes think that she’s going to get bored of me.”

“Bored of you?” I asked, truly surprised.

Lynette shrugged. “Kristen tells you she loves you every day. She sometimes tells me, but not very often.”

I smiled. “She loves you very much, Lynette. I think Kris tells me so often because she’s scared shitless that I might find somebody else.”

Lynette said, “Kris has a weird way of showing that. She throws women at you. I bet you that Jackie will share your bed tonight. I’ll be in the spare bedroom.”

I shook my head. “I’ll take that bet.”

Lynette came over to me and kissed me tenderly.

We were interrupted by the intercom. “Miss Swift?”

“Kris is in the billiard room, Wally. Is somebody at the gate?” We decided to rename the game room to the “billiard room,” because the security people sometimes called it a “pool room” getting us confused with the Solarium in the main house.

“Patty Nadal. Just calling to let you guys know. She’s on the regular guest list.”

“I’ll let her know,” I assured Wally.

“Thanks, Jim!”

Since Lynette was closer to the intercom button, she pressed it and said, “Patty has just arrived, Kris.”

Kristen’s voice answered. “Thank you, Lynette. Let me know if we should come upstairs.”

From the sound of Kristen’s voice, I could tell that she was beating Jackie on the pool table. I wondered when she’d start having Jackie bet her clothes. As I thought that, I realized that Lynette was quite accurate about Kristen’s intentions downstairs. I still didn’t have any intention of losing my bet.

I turned to Lynette. “Did Kristen ever tell you how to cook that rössti dish that she learned about in Europe?”

“No, but I know the dish,” Lynette answered.

“You can cook it?”

“Of course.”

“I think Kris has some porterhouses in the fridge. They would go together, right?”

Lynette laughed. “Do you plan on burning steaks?”

My cooking abilities were the subject of a running joke in the household, despite the fact that I rarely burned anything except when people interrupted me when I was making popcorn. “What would go with the rössti, then?”

“It’s a Swiss dish,” Lynette said.

“Not Austrian?” I asked.

“Swiss,” Lynette said firmly.

“All right. What else is Swiss? Only thing I can think of is cheese.”

Lynette shook her head. “Most anything German or French. Schnitzel?”

“Ooh,” I said. “I had one at the Berghoff with mushroom gravy!”

“Jägerschnitzel,” Lynette said.

“You seem to know the cuisine very well.”

Lynette shrugged. “My Nana emigrated from Germany. My mom taught me the recipes.”

“Can we make that?”

Lynette squinted her eyes, thinking. “I don’t think we have veal cutlets.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” I said. I went over to the intercom and buzzed the main house. Harry answered.

“Do you have veal cutlets at the main house?” I asked.

Harry answered, “I’d have to see. It’s not on the menu for tonight. Can you wait a moment?”

“Of course,” I said.

After about a minute, Harry came back. “I’m sorry. No veal.”

Before I could ask Lynette, she answered me. “Ask for pork cutlets.”

“How about pork cutlets?” I said to Harry.

“One second…” There was a slight pause and then, “We have a pork tenderloin.”

I turned to Lynette, who nodded. I asked Lynette, “What else do we need?”

“Are you going for American or German?” Lynette asked.

“Huh?”

“In America, it would be a burgundy gravy with mushrooms. In Germany, it’s a cream-based gravy with wild mushrooms.”

I went back to the intercom. “Any wild mushrooms?”

There was a pause. “Portobello and those white ones. None wild.”

I looked at Lynette, the expert. She said “Portobello.”

“How many?” I asked.

“Half a pound.”

“How much pork?”

“Two pounds.”

“Anything else?”

“The kitchen has everything else.”

“Can you spare half a pound of the Portobellos and two pounds of pork loin?” I asked Harry.

“No problem, Jim.”

“I’ll run over.”

“We’ll have your ingredients ready.”

I clicked off and gave Lynette a big hug. Lynette walked toward our kitchen to start putting things together.

As soon as I got to the door of the main house, Harry opened the door carrying a platter with a couple of pork tenderloins as well as some rather huge brown mushrooms. I hoped that Lynette knew what she was doing, but I knew that she was an excellent cook.

When I got back to the house, Lynette assembled most of the ingredients that she needed. She was wearing an apron, as she was going to be frying (sauteing, Lynette would correct me).

Lynette cut the meat, and then took a hammer-shaped meat tenderizer and pounded the loin and created beautiful pork cutlets. She told me to season the cutlets and then dip them in beaten eggs and dredge them in flour. There was a pan on the stove and she added some oil and instructed me to cook the cutlets two at a time.

Meanwhile, Lynette got out another pan on a different burner, and I watched her grate some potatoes for the rössti.

“Think the Weiner Schnitzel is ready to turn?” I asked.

“Schweineschnitzel,” Lynette corrected me.

“Huh?”

“That’s what it’s called when it’s pork.”

“Are they ready to turn?”

Lynette lifted an edge of one of the cutlets with a fork. “Give it another couple of minutes.”

The two of us worked together, with me taking all the cues from Lynette. When the first couple of cutlets were done, Lynette told me to put them in the convection oven on the “warm” setting, and then I did the second pair.

Lynette finished the rössti and it was in the warming oven. Meanwhile, she adjusted a pot that had string beans in boiling water. “You might want to let those two love birds know that supper is ready.”

“You’re going to lose your bet tonight, Lynette. I promise you a fun night!”

Lynette looked at me and gave me a soft smile. “Sometimes, I forget who you are, Jim. Just a few moments ago, I was thinking of you like Danny.” Lynette was referring to her younger brother. “You’re not just the boyfriend of my girlfriend, but you’re Oogie.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please, Lynette. I’m not that wonderful person that people talk about. If you knew some of the deep dark secrets that I hide, you’d find it difficult to like me.”

“I know you have secrets,” Lynette said. “You told them to Kris, Cammy, and others, right?”

“Patty,” I added, suddenly wondering why we hadn’t heard from her after she arrived on the property.

“Those people still love you.”

“Yeah. I’m just not perfect, though.”

“I love you.”

I looked at Lynette. “You love Kristen.”

“The human heart is big enough to love more than just another person.”

I remembered having almost the same conversation in reverse before with Camille.

“You know, Lynette, I truly love you, too.”

The two of us hugged for a moment.

“Since you’re not Pussy Slave tonight, could you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“I bought some lingerie from Kristen’s catalogs a few months ago. Since you and Kris are the same size, I’d like to see you in a particular set.”

Lynette’s eyebrows raised. “I couldn’t wear something you bought for Kris.”

“No,” I said, truthfully. “I bought them because they appealed to me. Kris wrote out the check without even looking at what I ordered. I did buy a special pair for Patty for her birthday in November.”

“Why do you want me to wear clothes?” Lynette asked.

I smiled wickedly. “Wearing lingerie can make you seem even more naked than going nude, Lynette.”

Lynette laughed. “Why don’t you show me what you bought?”

As I hoped, Lynette loved the set. It consisted of a pair of pink panties and a matching camisole.

“You’re right,” Lynette said when she saw my selection. “These would make me look more naked.”

“You are my date tonight,” I said.

Once again, Lynette’s eyebrows raised.

“I don’t want Kristen to take our love for granted.”

“Don’t hurt her, Jim,” Lynette requested.

“I won’t,” I promised.

* * *

I went to the apartment intercom and put it on public address. I knew that Kristen and Jackie were most likely in the shower downstairs, but didn’t want to search for them. “Dinner’s ready,” I announced.

It took about two minutes before I got a response. “We’ll be upstairs in five minutes.”

I looked at Lynette and she signaled me that our meal could continue warming without any damage. “That sounds cool. Is Patty down there?”

“Patty needed to leave for Roman’s. She just wanted a few moments’ help on something.”

“Oh,” I said. If the Schnitzel we prepared was anywhere near as good as it smelled, I’d easily have that fifth plate eaten without having any waste.

“I need to blow dry my hair,” Kristen added.

Lynette gave me an “I told you so!” look when she heard that.

“Take your time. Things are in the convection oven,” I said. “Invite Jackie up, too. There was enough for Patty; I didn’t know that she left for Roman’s.”

“OK,” Kristen said.

I saw Lynette going through a few emotional reactions from Kristen’s words.

I decided to change the subject. “Lynette, June once asked me a very personal question.”

“She’s probably asked you quite a few,” Lynette said.

“June wants me to do her anally.”

Lynette didn’t seem surprised. She just nodded.

“I told her that you said that you were experienced, and that…”

“June told me,” Lynette said, softly.

“What did you tell her?” I asked.

“I don’t think I deserve to be your first that way.”

“I can’t think of anybody I’d prefer, as long as you can tell me honestly that you would enjoy it.”

Lynette looked at me. “I’d only enjoy it with you.”

The two of us stared at each other for a long time. Much longer than the five minutes that Kristen said.

“Will you trust me?” I asked Lynette.

“I trust you implicitly.”

“No,” I said. “Will you trust me, even if you think I might start to act like an asshole?”

Lynette didn’t give me an immediate answer.

“Lynette, I intend on doing something a bit outrageous. I would like you to trust me.”

“Is it the kind of thing that would make June want to leave you?” Lynette asked, softly.

“Yes,” I admitted. “Maybe not, if I asked her permission in advance, though.”

“You’re asking in advance?”

“Yes.”

“I will trust you.”

* * *

Fifteen minutes after I last used the intercom, a naked Kristen and an equally naked Jackie came upstairs. Both of them expressed shock at the lingerie that Lynette was wearing. It was material only in an academic sense. I had gotten intrigued in this particular design when I was drooling over Kristen’s catalog. It was sort of reverse lingerie, in that the “naughty bits” where most lingerie were opaque for modesty purposes were nearly transparent in this outfit. The not-so-naughty bits were completely covered.

The total effect of Lynette’s lingerie was to make her even more obviously nude than the other girls that were completely nude.

I have wondered over the years why that particular outfit was so erotic to me. After all, it hid more than it displayed, despite the fact that what it displayed was much more personal than what it managed to hide. I’ve since seen other people wear similar outfits, but the experience of seeing it on Lynette that first time filled me with such lust and desire that it was a wonder that I hadn’t just thrown her on the floor and fucked her silly.

Kristen looked oddly at me after she managed to stop gaping at Lynette. I just gave her a mild smile, and I think it was at that moment that Kristen realized that something was up.

“We have Schweineschnitzel with a Jägerschnitzel sauce,” Lynette said, realizing that she had everybody’s undivided attention as she walked back and forth between the dining room and the kitchen, wiggling her ass just a bit more than I had ever seen her do previously.

Lynette brought a plate for me and herself. As she served me, she gave me a big kiss after she put my plate in front of me.

“This outfit is so nice!” Lynette squealed.

“I’m glad you like it,” I said.

I saw Kristen and Jackie look at each other, wondering what had happened up here.

I took my first bite of the schnitzel. It was gloriously decadent, an orgy of sensations dancing on my taste buds. The rössti was seasoned perfectly to my taste and the sauce for the meat actually enhanced the potato dish nicely. I even liked the string beans!

Kristen obviously enjoyed the meal, as I saw her close her eyes in pleasure as she ate. Jackie was completely confused, Kristen’s seduction of her having been interrupted by Lynette’s lingerie and the wonderful food we had created.

(Yes, I know that the “we” part was stretching things, but the meal had been my idea, starting with the rössti.)

After dinner, Lynette got up and cleared the table. She had done this so often that Kristen didn’t react to this at all, even though she was still a bit suspicious about what Lynette and I were up to.

When I heard the dishwasher start, Lynette came back into the dining room. I immediately got up and took her arm, and led her toward the master bedroom. “If you’ll excuse us,” I said over my shoulder as I left the dining room.

“Remember to trust me,” I whispered to Lynette after we were out of the other two girls’ sight.

“Kristen’s ready to go ballistic,” Lynette said. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I’m being a friend to Kristen’s lover,” I said, kissing Lynette on the lips.

“Kristen won’t see it that way.” Lynette sighed.

I had Lynette lay down on the king sized bed, and I went into Kristen’s lingerie drawer and found the four pairs of handcuffs that Kristen now had in there.

Lynette’s eyes showed surprise at the handcuffs.

“Trust me,” I asked, once again.

“I trust you.”

* * *

Kristen finally got the nerve to barge into the master bedroom. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

Before I could answer, Kristen gasped, seeing Lynette spread eagle on the bed face down with four pairs of handcuffs binding her to the bed.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Kristen demanded.

I looked at Kristen dismissively, and said, softly. “Play with your toy. I’ve found a use for your discards.”

I noticed Lynette suck in air as I said that. I knew that my words were cruel, but I wasn’t trying to insult Lynette. I was trying to get through to Kristen.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Kristen demanded.

I took a deep breath. I was going to have to move into Big Asshole territory to pull this off properly. “The last time I looked, my dear Goddess, I was the fucking person that has the deed to this apartment.” As I said each word, it took quite a lot of effort to continue. “As the master of this household, I’m spending the night with Lynette, who was the mastermind behind a most wonderful dinner that you didn’t even bother to compliment tonight.”

“What the…”

“Shut up!” I demanded. “I will spend the night with Lynette. You can take your new toy to the spare bedroom. Tomorrow morning, Lynette will let me take her ass. If you want, I will allow you to come in afterward and suck all my sperm out of it. If you kiss Lynette’s ass, and I’ll forgive you. For now… GO TO YOUR ROOM!”

Kristen looked at me, her mouth hanging wide open. There were tears in her eyes, and I compared myself to Hitler, Charles Manson, and the guy that invented disco. It took everything for me not to just hug her in my arms.

Kristen may have seen some lenience in my eyes, but to her own benefit, I have to admit that she left the room.

“You may have gone too far,” Lynette whispered when she knew that Kristen wasn’t around. “I don’t feel like a discard.”

“You don’t?” I asked, boring my eyes into Lynette’s soul.

“Maybe I do,” Lynette softly said.

“Lynette,” I said, “I told you that I loved you. I don’t know your definition of the word, but mine requires respect. I respect you and you respect me. It took us months to get to the point where we could truthfully say that we love each other. I think Kristen has shown you an amazing lack of respect.”

“How do you do it?” Lynette asked.

“Don’t fuck it up, Lynette,” I warned her. “Only virgins ask me that.”

Despite all the emotions going through Lynette, she laughed.

I looked at Lynette, still tied to the bed, and asked, “Should I unlatch the handcuffs?”

“Not until you take my ass.”

“Do you think you’ll be comfortable all night? I told Kristen I’d take your ass tomorrow morning.”

Lynette said, “What if you take off two of the handcuffs?”

I unlocked the two cuffs on her left side, which made her able to move quite a bit more than she could when she was completely bound.

“Let’s just cuddle, Lynette. I love you, but let’s not take it too quickly.”

Lynette didn’t answer. She sighed in my arms, and soon she fell asleep.

* * *

I woke up with somebody giving me a wonderful hand job. There was a smell of perfume, and it wasn’t Kristen’s, and when I opened my eyes, Lynette was completely unbound, and squiring a clear bottle that said “Baby Oil” on it onto my cock.

“What are you doing?” I asked, sleepily.

“Getting you lubed up,” Lynette answered. “You’re a bit bigger than any of the other guys that took my back door, Jim.”

“Flatterer!” I giggled.

“You may have gone overboard last night with Kristen,” Lynette said.

“She went overboard. You were right, Lynette. What she did with Jackie was callous toward you. It would be one thing if she was treating you as Pussy Slave.”

Lynette nodded. “Pussy Slave is dead. Kristen’s price is too high.”

“I don’t want to hurt you like that, Lynette. Can’t I just have a friend?”

Lynette sighed. “June’s right. You are devastating.”

“I’m no such thing. I’m a fucking sixteen year old…”

“Who will be all the more fucking devastating next month when you’re seventeen!”

I watched Lynette continue to caress my cock with her two warm hands slipping and sliding on it. “You’re going to need to lube your fingers and stick them in my ass,” Lynette told me. “I know how to ease up, although June won’t.”

“Lynette,” I said, softly. “You’re devastating yourself. You are getting me ready to take your ass, just so I can take June’s.”

“And her mother’s.”

I sighed. “Yeah. Add some more stress to my life.”

Lynette didn’t answer, but kissed me full on the lips. When she broke it off, she said, “You are your best under stress.”

“I wasn’t when Kristen was gone for two weeks.”

“Cammy called me. Kristen was worse than you. Just nobody tells those Goddess Stories!”

“I think those are two words that would make her puke.”

“You really don’t like hearing them about you, do you?”

I shook my head. “The basic theme is that I’m put into a situation where I cannot react any way except make a choice. I always make the worst choice, but then things work out.”

“Most people never realize they make the bad choices until it is too late,” Lynette pointed out. “That’s what make your stories so special.”

I shook my head. “It always seems that I make them too late.”

“How about when June’s mom showed up that first time?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“She came over at the worst time for you,” Lynette said. “That asshole Reggie hit you in class and you ran out and started taking things out in the music room. Your teacher sent you home, and you knew that night that June’s mom would be coming over. To anybody else, they would have crumbled. You, however, drew strength.”

I shook my head. “I just realized that June’s mom was powerless to do anything about me.”

“I know guys in twelfth grade, even college students, that would have crumbled in that situation. Think about it, she heard you call her daughter a whore.”

“June called herself that. I rarely called her that.”

Lynette sighed. “You are such a piece of work. Are you going to take my ass or not?”

“Lynette, I really need a friend. I have Patty, but I see you more than I see her. I used to have Camille, but she’s with Will now. I need somebody like you, willing to love me and Kristen, but keep me grounded.”

“I’ll be all that for you and more,” Lynette promised.

“I don’t want more, Lynette.”

Lynette wiggled her ass seductively. “Please stick your fingers in my ass, Oogie. Let me get used to the feeling again.”

I finally did it. Very tentatively, I slid my index finger into the pucker of Lynette’s ass.

“Hmm,” Lynette moaned. “Do it again, slowly like that.”

I let Lynette set her own pace. After a couple of minutes, I was directed to insert two fingers, and then three. At the same time, Lynette had resumed her stroking my erection, getting me hard.

Finally, we got to the point where Lynette asked me to do the deed. I positioned my hard cock on the entrance to her asshole. “Are you sure?” I asked, giving Lynette a last chance.

“Jim, do it. Please!”

I slowly pressed into Lynette. I felt resistance, but a slightly harder push got me to the point where the crown of my dick felt her asshole widen to accommodate my girth.

Slowly, I eased my cock further, feeling resistance all the way. Lynette’s ass wasn’t trying to reject me, but I knew that it wouldn’t be the slick and slippery access that a woman’s cunt tended to give.

“Hmm,” Lynette moaned, giving me no sign of distress or even discomfort as a reason to stop.

Fucking a girl in the ass is a whole different experience than doing it the normal way. My biggest objection was my normal objection to any rear entry position: I preferred to see my partner’s face as we worked together. Instead, Lynette had her head turned so she was lying on the left side of her face, allowing me to lick her earlobes and brush my lips against hers. I remembered how such licking was able to drive me crazy!

Previously, when ass fucking was just being discussed, Camille told me that there wasn’t any particular nerves that were stimulated in a girl simply by moving your cock in and out of her ass. Clitoral stimulation with fingers helped, and Camille suggested that a girl shouldn’t be too embarrassed to frig herself as a guy pounded into her ass.

I liked Lynette very much, and I figured that if she was doing this to help me achieve pleasure, then I should at least fondle her pussy and make the experience as much a pleasure for her as well. I knew from what Kristen and my other female friends had told me, as well as from my own experience, that having somebody fondle your sexual organs was much superior to doing it yourself.

I also knew that Lynette, like most of the girls I slept with, loved it when I licked and whispered into her ears as she was being stimulated, so I had just naturally added that into the mix.

As a result, it was obvious that Lynette was actually enjoying the experience, and she was actually moving her hips up and down, although I couldn’t tell if she was doing it to increase the stimulation on my penis or the stimulation on her clitoris, and I didn’t care, because it was obvious that we were both enjoying it together.

It took more than a few in and out thrusts before I reached total insertion. It was as if getting in so far would make it easier the next time to get to that same point, so that each time, I’d get deeper and deeper until I finally achieved total penetration.

When I was as deep as my shaft could manage, I held myself in Lynette’s ass.

After a few moments with my body matching Lynette’s up and down motions, keeping my dick firmly embedded within her, Lynette finally sighed. “I feel so full, Oogie.”

“It doesn’t hurt?” I asked.

“It told you, I’ve done it before, but not in about six months or so,” Lynette said. “Even so, I think you’ve gotten in deeper than any other boy managed. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels very… full.”

“You are a sweet and lovable girl, Lynette,” I said, finally starting to pull my dick out in anticipation of starting another thrust inward. “You will make somebody very happy.”

Lynette didn’t answer me, but I swear that I heard her sniff a bit. I wasn’t as attuned to Lynette as I was to Kristen, so I didn’t know what she was feeling. Despite this, she continued moving her ass up and down. I decided to allow Lynette to now dictate the tempo, and simply kept my body stationary as Lynette’s movements slipped my dick in and out. Her movements started getting faster as her breathing indicated that she was approaching her orgasm.

Knowing that Lynette was getting off spurred my own body into sexual overdrive. I started spurting my seed into Lynette’s bowels with a final thrust.

When I was done, I saw a tear in Lynette’s eye.

“Did I hurt you, my love?” I asked, softly.

“No, Oogie. I…” Lynette started, but she stopped.

As I said, I wasn’t an expert on Lynette’s moods, but from my experiences with her during Kristen’s trip to Boston, I knew that her crying wasn’t external pain, but a pain in her heart.

I kissed Lynette’s face, licking her tears away. “I love you, Lynette.”

“I know, Oogie. Thanks for being such a loving friend.”

“Lynette, I’m going to clean up. I’ll be right back.”

I went into the bathroom to wash my dick. I was surprised when I looked at it; I had expected it to be filthy and covered in shit, but that wasn’t the case at all. Still, I wanted to make myself more sanitary.

It didn’t take long to clean myself, and afterward, I exited the bathroom, and took a pair of handcuffs from the night stand, and walked out of the bedroom.

I quietly opened the spare bedroom door. I was surprised to see Kristen in the bed, alone. She was awake. “Jim?” she called out.

“Yeah, it’s me. Mr. Asshole.”

“I’m sorry for last night.”

“You hurt me by hurting Lynette, Kris. You cannot apologize to me for that. There’s somebody else you need to apologize to.”

“I know.” Kristen looked as if she had the worst night of her life. There were dark circles under her eyes, and it was obvious that she cried herself to sleep. I didn’t have it in my heart to remain angry with her, but I couldn’t allow myself to sit back and say nothing when a dear friend of mine was hurting so terribly.

“Will you kiss me?” Kristen asked.

“Come over here.”

Kristen knew by the tone of my voice that my answer wasn’t an affirmative response to her request. Still, she came over.

Instead of kissing Kristen, I put one of the handcuffs on one of her wrists.

Kristen looked up at me in surprise. There was a cool determination in my eyes, and Kristen shivered in response.

I received absolutely no opposition as I put Kristen’s arms behind her back as I cuffed her other hand. “You need to apologize to Lynette. You told me a few months ago that when I call you slave that you’ll be my slave. Well, I’m going to call you Pussy Slave today. You will remain cuffed until you manage to get your mistress to forgive you.”

“Mistress?” Kristen asked.

“Lynette is your mistress today. I’d recommend that you kiss her ass, literally, as you will find your morning fix in it.”

Kristen nodded quietly, and allowed me to lead her to the master bedroom. I had her stand outside as I went inside the room.

“Lynette?” I called out quietly.

“Yeah?” Lynette sniffed.

“I have somebody outside. You were right, Lynette. You are no longer Pussy Slave. I have the new Pussy Slave outside and she wants to apologize to her Mistress.”

“Mistress?” Lynette asked.

“I have one request to make of you. We both love Kristen, but she needs to be punished. I’m not asking for whips and chains, or bruises or scars. Paddle her fanny; make her show you how much she’s sorry. I’m going to go downstairs to practice in the music room and maybe shoot some pool. I’m going to see if I can get Jackie or Patty to drive me home to spend some time with my sister.”

“Jim?”

“What?”

“Your sister?”

“Yeah. I don’t spend enough time with her, and I want to be around when Jackie gives her the good news.”

“You called her your sister,” Lynette pointed out.

“Yeah?”

“Merry told me you always qualify your relationship with her and her father.”

I thought about what I had just said. I hadn’t realized what I had implied. I smiled. “Yeah, Lynette. She’s my sister. Not my kid sister, not my step-sister.” I didn’t realize until that moment how observant Lynette was.

Lynette didn’t say anything in response, although she smiled.

I bent down and kissed Lynette warmly. It was a long kiss.

I went into the dresser and got an old pair of jeans and a faded T-shirt that I had managed to hide from Kristen’s fashion sense, and also grabbed a pair of boxers, socks, and my sneakers.

I rolled my clothes up and left the room, and as I opened the door, Lynette blew me another kiss.

Kristen was still waiting, a look of uncertainty on her face.

“Your mistress awaits you,” I said.

Kristen merely nodded and started to enter the room.

Before she did, however, I reached out with my free hand and grabbed her tit closest to me. Kristen almost cried out in surprise. I moved over and kissed her on the forehead. “Give me a call later. I prefer having you as a lover.”

I received a half smile from Kristen, but her eyes were flowing with tears in her eyes, not knowing what awaited her in the master bedroom, but realizing that I would not be a part of it.

What was going through Kristen’s mind? The fact that I insinuated that I didn’t consider her my lover at this point was most likely foremost on her mind, but she must also have been thinking of the outrageous things that she had Lynette do since she took advantage of Lynette during the Senior Weekend.

I finally realized that Kristen may have had good intentions, but what she had done to Lynette was not the same as what I had ever done to June.

Chapter 28—Getting Even

Hey have you ever tried,

Really reaching out for the other side?

I may be climbing on rainbows,

But baby here goes...

Dreams are for those who sleep.

Life is for us to keep.

But if you’re wondering what this song is leading to...

I want to make it with you!

Bread

Make It With You

My mother was delighted to see me when Patty dropped me off on her way to work. “Hi, Jim! What’s the occasion?”

“I’ve been neglecting my family too long,” I said, giving my mother a warm kiss on her cheek.

“Jim!” Merry said, running down the stairs to find out what the commotion was about.

“Hi, Merry!” I said, genuinely glad to see my sister.

“I had tryouts the other day!”

“I heard. How did you do?” I asked, not telling her that I already knew that she made the squad.

“It wasn’t easy. June and Lynette tried to help me, and Sherry even tried to help as well, but I still can’t do the flips like Sherry does.”

I nodded. “Sherry is a bit exceptional at that.”

“They said you needed to be special to get in as a sophomore. Sherry and Camille both made it. I think maybe Lynette did, too, but she never talks about things like that. I’m not as good as they are.”

“They are all older than you are, but if my vote counts, you are indeed something special.”

“They all speak about you, Jim,” Merry said. “The cheerleaders, I mean.”

I laughed. “I know they do. Just don’t repeat their stories to me.”

Merry laughed back at me. “June and Lynette already told me that,” she explained.

“Is my bicycle still in the shed?” I asked.

“Are you leaving already?” Merry asked, her voice full of disappointment.

“I was thinking of taking a ride to the mall. I thought I might want to hang out with my somebody special.”

“Kristen? Why wouldn’t she pick you up?”

“I was talking about you, Merry. Want to bike to the mall?”

“Shit yes!” Merry shouted, and then she put her hand over her mouth.

I looked into the kitchen where my mother was sitting. I saw by her amused expression that she heard Merry but she didn’t say anything. I think Merry’s occasional colorful outbursts amused her as much as they amused me.

“You’ll need to ask Mom, Miss Potty Mouth.”

Merry stuck her tongue out at me, giggled, and then ran into the kitchen to ask for permission to ride to the mall. She was given permission.

“Jim, will you be taking Merry to lunch as well?” my mother asked.

“Vaughn’s is nearby. I have some cash.”

Giving me her most motherly look, Mom said, “Be careful, you two.”

I kissed my mother and assured her, “I always try.”

* * *

At the mall, we just walked around. Merry and I talked about everything and at the same time, we talked about nothing. She told me how excited she was to be entering high school and even possibly becoming a cheerleader, although she was feeling quite sure that she hadn’t made it.

“So, where’s Kristen?” Merry asked.

“Back at the apartment. I figured that I don’t visit home enough.”

“You’re not home right now,” Merry pointed out.

“I’m with my sister, which is home for me.”

Merry looked at me sharply. “Sister?”

Once again, I was surprised that Merry caught that word, just as Lynette did. Luckily, I did have some time to think about it since Lynette and I had that discussion.

“Merry, you know why I don’t call your father ‘Dad.’ That word is associated with a lot of bad memories for me, just like “father” and anything like it. With you, however, there is no reason to call you anything other than my sister. I think when we first met, I was… how old was I? Eight or nine? Anyway, I guess I felt a need to differentiate my stuff from your stuff—you know, my toys, my instruments, my room. I think calling you my step-sister was a way of reminding myself that you weren’t really my sister.”

“I never understood why you always called me that,” Merry said softly. “I just sort of got used to it. Then you started calling me ‘Shortcake,’ which bothered me at first, because you and Jack used to call me ‘runt,’ but I noticed that you never called me ‘Shortcake’ except when it was the two of us, and you never said it nasty. After a while, I realized I liked that name. Patty told me that you call me that because you like me.”

“Patty said that?” I asked. “When?”

“One of the times we talked while you were in the bathroom back when she visited you in the morning. She said you really like me and that name was your way of making me special… you don’t call anybody else that name.”

Hmm. I hadn’t known that Patty and Merry had talked about me back then. I wonder what else they talked about that I didn’t know. I didn’t want to get off the track, though. I said, “In the past few weeks, I’ve seen you at the apartment a lot, and I’m realizing that you are growing up,” I said, smiling at my sister. “I never had any complaints about you—we were always best friends.”

“I know,” Merry said. She found a bench and sat down, nudging me to sit next to her. “I felt the same about you.”

“So,” I said, smiling at Merry, “unless you prefer me to call you something else, I think I’m going to think of you as my sister.”

Merry’s reaction was to pull me down and hug me. “I love you, bro!”

“I love you, sis! I think we shouldn’t get Mom nervous, though. Can I keep calling you Shortcake at home?”

“I told you, I love that name now, Jim!” Merry giggled.

We continued looking around the mall. The closeness that the two of us shared was something that I had been missing in the months since I’d been living with Kristen. June had been right, after all.

* * *

Jackie “accidentally” bumped into us at eleven o’clock near the food court.

“Hey, Oogie… Merry! Fancy meeting you here.”

The two of us said hello back.

“Merry, can I talk to you in private?” Jackie asked.

“I have no secrets from my bro,” Merry answered.

Jackie smiled. “You’ll need to give your sizes to Mrs. D. You’ll need to get a uniform.”

“You mean…?” Merry said, her excitement building.

“Welcome to the squad, Merry!” Jackie said.

Merry hugged Jackie very hard. “I got in?”

“You’re the only sophomore so far this year!” Jackie smiled. “Even I had to wait until mid-season as a junior to make it in. Congratulations!”

“Jim! I got on the squad!” Merry squealed.

“That’s great, sis!” I said, hugging my sister.

Jackie turned to me. “Can you give me a few minutes with Merry? Squad talk.”

“No problem,” I said. “I’m going to the candy store over there to get something for Kris.”

Jackie nodded and then added, “I’ll need to talk with you privately also, so just give us five minutes.”

“Sure thing, Jackie.”

I went to the candy store, and purchased a pint-sized clear plastic container of freshly made chocolate covered peanuts. Kristen apologized to me, and this was my way of telling her that I forgave her.

There were still a few more minutes to kill, so I did some window shopping until I noticed that Merry and Jackie got up from the bench that they were sitting on, which I guessed was a signal for me that it was safe to return.

Merry made herself scarce as I went to talk with Jackie. Jackie and I sat back down on the bench.

“Jim, I need to apologize for last night.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You don’t understand,” Jackie said. “I’ve lived in Camille’s shadow for a long time. She became a cheerleader in tenth grade, and it took me until mid-season last year to get on the squad. Kristen and you are sort of a legend, and Camille, Lynette, and even June seem to be part of it. I think I was a bit jealous.”

I nodded. What Jackie told me made sense.

“When Kristen ran into your room and started yelling, I got scared,” Jackie said. “I thought I did something wrong. When Kris came out of the room, however, she looked completely destroyed. What happened in there?”

I sighed. “I’m sorry you got in the middle of that, Jackie. Nobody blames you for what happened, and nobody is holding anything against you.”

“But what happened?” Jackie asked.

“That’s a private matter, Jackie.”

Jackie stared at me for a few minutes, and must have decided that I wouldn’t budge on this issue. Switching tracks, Jackie said, “I’m sorry if I tried to…”

“I said, nobody blames you, Jackie. You did nothing wrong.”

“You’re really not mad at me?” Jackie asked.

“Come back over in a couple of days, Jackie.”

“Really?”

“I mean it, but before you come, I’ll have Kristen call you to let you know that it’s all right with both of us.”

“Thanks, Jim.”

“Did you give Merry the secret handshake and everything?” I asked, changing the subject.

“We’ve found it prudent in the past not to tell the new people about the initiation unless they are alone.”

“I’m cool with that.”

Jackie asked, in a conspiratorial whisper, “Are you going to set up another recording session for Kristen on the first day of school?”

I laughed. “I’ve already done that once. I can’t continue to try to outdo the stuff I did last year. It would make things impossible very quickly. Besides, Kris will be at college.”

Jackie looked disappointed. “Well, whatever you do, we’re behind you.”

I looked around, and saw Merry looking over at us from the other side of the food court. I got up, and Jackie followed me. I kissed Jackie as Merry approached us. “I’m really not angry with you, Jackie.”

* * *

As we walked toward the area where our bikes were locked, Merry finally got up the nerve to ask me her question.

“Jim?” Merry asked, a bit nervously.

“Yeah, sis?”

“I’ve been told there’s going to be an initiation, and I need to bring a boyfriend.”

“Who will you bring?” I asked. “Jack Williams?”

Despite her nervousness, Merry burst out laughing. Jack and Merry never really got along. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” Merry finally admitted.

“I told you on New Year’s, any boy would be proud to have you as their girlfriend.”

“Some of my friends date, but none of the boys that asked me were… mature enough.”

I didn’t want to torture my sister too much. “Maybe I could ask Jackie if the squad would allow you to bring your brother?”

“She said I could bring anybody,” Merry said quickly.

“Did you want me to attend?” I asked her.

“Could you? I could tell Mom…”

“Just tell her you’re with me,” I suggested. “I don’t think Mom will mind if I’m there, but your dad will probably have a fit if he hears that you’re attending a cheerleader initiation.”

Merry once again threw her arms around me, and kissed my cheek. “Thank you, Jim!”

“No problem, sis.”

* * *

Merry and I ate lunch at Vaughn’s, and Merry wouldn’t consider any dessert, let alone the Belly Buster. We talked a lot together. Merry told me about her friends, and she again talked about her hopes and expectations about attending high school.

Although I didn’t want to disappoint her too much, I tried to reset her expectations so that they weren’t too high.

When we got back home, Mom gave me a warm smile. “Will you be having dinner with us? I’m making roast beef.”

“I’m not sure. I think I need to give Kristen a call.”

“No problem, Jim. We’ll have plenty enough for leftovers, so you and even Kristen won’t be a bother.”

“Let me call her first.”

“Is there something wrong between the two of you?” Mom asked.

I shook my head. “Kris needed to spend some private time without me, and I haven’t been coming over as much as I want. I miss my sister, the house…”

“Sister?” Mom asked, surprised. Just like Lynette and Merry, my mother noticed the wording change as well. Was I that fucking obvious?

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, Mom. Merry and I talked, and I decided that always referring to her as my step-sister didn’t make sense. She’s always wanted a brother, and I’ve always wanted a sister.”

My mother smiled at me. “I’m glad things are working out with the two of you.”

“You don’t mind if I borrow Merry next weekend, will you?”

“Borrow?”

“Kristen and I will pick her up, and we’ll take her to lunch and dinner. I really want to spend more time with Merry, since we’ll be going to the same school in a few weeks.”

“I’ve let her stay over before, Jim. Why the personal request?”

I sighed. “I have a music studio at the apartment, as well as a pool table. Merry’s all worked up about what high school will entail, and Kris and I want to talk with her so that she doesn’t get too disappointed. Merry likes hearing me play, and I only have the upright here. Kris is going to get me a mixer to go with my multi-track recorder so I can make professional sounding demos.”

“Really?” Mom asked, impressed.

“I also want to get a few friends together and put together an ensemble. Gerry said he can get me an audition for a weekly gig at Puppy Dawg’s.”

“You’re too young to go to Puppy Dawg’s,” Mom pointed out.

“Too young to drink, but not too young to perform. You know how I feel about drinking.”

My mother nodded. “Who do you have lined up for your ensemble?”

“Sam, Roy, Stacy, Bill, myself, Kristen, Amy, and Derek,” I said. “I haven’t gotten in touch with all of them, but I think we’d make a killer band.”

“How much money a week?” Mom asked, always the stickler for details.

“Gerry makes a hundred fifty, and his best stuff consists of songs that I arranged for him. I was thinking of using the venue to record us all together, so we can make live demos for the record companies.”

“Well, be careful, Jim,” Mom said. “I know I don’t have to tell you this, but beware. The music industry isn’t easy to get into, and it’s also difficult to get out when you’re big. Charley Swift told me at Kristen’s birthday party that she used to perform, so you might want to get her perspective and advice on this.”

“Great idea, Mom!”

Mom beamed.

Smiling, I added, “Let me give Kristen a call.”

I went into the den, and felt strange using the phone. At the apartment, there was never a time limit to deal with, but at my parents’ house, I needed to abide by their rules, which meant ten minutes maximum.

I dialed the private number that connected me directly to the apartment.

“Lynette’s House of Torture,” Lynette announced.

“Cool name! Can we get a neon sign?” I giggled.

“No,” Lynette said loudly. “Kristen is tied up and gagged right now. Can I take a message?”

“Are you playing right now?”

“Yes.”

“I take it that Kristen is listening.”

“Jim isn’t here. He gave Kristen to me to bring her in line.”

I giggled, wondering what was going through Kristen’s mind right now.

Lynette paused a bit before continuing her charade. “The services for Pussy Slave for the entire football team?”

My eyes widened as I laughed.

Another pause, and then, “I’ve retired from the Pussy Slave business, but I have a replacement. Do you think the team would mind a different blonde?”

I let Lynette play her silly game.

Yet another pause and then, “No, she hasn’t done anal, I think. I do have a toy that Cammy left us that I could use to loosen her up for you.”

“You wouldn’t, Lynette!” I said.

“No,” Lynette said, answering me. There was another pause and then, “I don’t know if she’s taken guys in her cunt and mouth at the same time. I think she’d be willing to learn, though.”

“Is she squirming, Lynette?” I asked.

Lynette again incorporated her answer within her charade: “Yes, she is. Each guy will have to pay twenty five cents per trick.”

I heard muffled moans in the background behind Lynette.

“Twenty five dollars? That would be a hundred tricks! I don’t know if she could take it… Oh… That sounds interesting, but you’d have to provide your own horse!”

“When should I come back, Lynette?”

“You want a test drive?” Lynette asked, still in character. “It will still be twenty five cents per trick. I’d have to pick you up, since nobody but me can get past the security gate without Kristen or Jim’s verbal OK. May I pick you up?”

“Certainly, Lynette. My mom invited Kris and me for roast beef. It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to add another one—Merry and I can put in a leaf in the table.”

“That sounds divine!” Lynette answered. “What time?”

“We eat at six.”

“I can certainly be there in a few minutes. I’ll have the new Pussy Slave waiting for you.”

Lynette hung up the phone, and I laughed hysterically.

Merry came into the den. “What’s so funny?”

“Lynette’s playing a joke on Kristen, and it’s so cool!”

“Ooh! Can you tell me?” Merry asked.

“Sorry, sis. This is one Oogie Story that I won’t be sharing.”

“Aww,” Merry said, disappointed.

“I think you need to call Sherry and June and thank them for their help, huh?”

“Ooh, good idea.”

“Lynette’s on her way over here to pick me up. You can thank her in person.”

“Great!”

I went to the living room, where Mom and my step-father were watching television.

“Mom, Kristen and I have Lynette with us, so would it be possible to include her for dinner as well?”

“There’s enough meat, but I might have to make more mashed potatoes.”

“I’ll help, Mommy!” Merry offered. “Jim can help me put in the leaf.”

Mom laughed and looked at her husband. He nodded his approval, and Mom said, “Fine, Jim. I’ll have Merry help make some more salad as well.”

* * *

I let Merry answer the door when Lynette rang the bell.

“Lynette! I made the squad! Thanks so much for all your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Jackie told you that you’re on the squad?” Lynette asked, a bit surprised.

“Jim and I saw her at the mall and she gave me the good news!”

“I’m proud of you, even if you did tell somebody that you think of me as ‘Coach Bitch!’”

“I didn’t mean…” Merry said, reddening.

Lynette laughed. “I don’t mind, Merry. Sometimes I needed to be tough on you in order to get you in shape in time. Did Jackie tell you your score?”

“Eight out of ten. She didn’t explain the point totals, though.”

“That’s impressive for a sophomore,” Lynette said. “I bet you got two-four-two.”

“Huh?” I asked.

“Two for being sponsored, four for routine, and two for difficulty,” Lynette explained to me. “Merry started at two-three-one to my way of thinking, and after working with me, I decided that she probably improved one point each in the routine and difficulty.”

Having the former squad captain as a coach was obviously very helpful for Merry.

“Thank you!” Merry said, really impressed in Lynette’s analysis.

“You did the work, Merry. You deserved every point you got.”

“Thanks, anyway!”

“You’re welcome, Merry,” Lynette said. “I need to borrow Jim, but I told him we’ll be back for dinner in an hour or so.”

“Jim told us!”

“I’ll see you later on. OK, sis?” I asked my sister.

“OK.”

I kissed my sister on the cheek, and Lynette did the same as well. The two of us left and drove back to the apartment.

“I bet Kristen is scared shitless,” I said on the drive back.

“I may have laid it on a bit thick on the phone.”

“I was laughing my ass off,” I said. “Jackie apologized, by the way.”

“Jackie has an inferiority complex about her cousin,” Lynette remarked. “She may have unwittingly put Kristen up to what she did last night.”

I nodded. “Jackie and I talked. She said she’s sorry.”

“You know that I can’t hate Kristen, Jim.”

“It’s one of the reasons that I love you,” I said.

“I’m not just a convenient ass fuck?” Lynette said, smiling.

“You’re very convenient,” I said.

“It was the only time I achieved orgasm when a guy was back there.”

“Camille and I discussed ass fucking one night we were together when Kris was asleep. She said that ass fucking does little physically to stimulate the recipient, and said that a girl should not be too embarrassed to frig herself during the act.”

“Cammy told me that, too,” Lynette said. “I never felt comfortable about doing that with other guys. I would have done it with you, though, because I wanted to enjoy it with you, but when you did it for me, it was much better.”

“I love you, Lynette.”

“I love you, Oogie.”

I decided that I needed to find a good pet name for Lynette. “Do you forgive Kristen?” I asked.

“I can’t hate her. It was hard for me to even do that to her over the phone, but whenever I felt uneasy, I’d think about her happily ordering me to eat June, or to suck you, or any of the other things she made me do. I would do anything for her if she asks, but the terms I agreed to were that she gave orders, not just ask.”

I nodded.

“I don’t want to be her slave anymore, Jim,” Lynette said. “I want to be her lover.”

“I know. This was brewing for a while, wasn’t it?” I asked.

“It would have come to a head sooner or later,” Lynette said wistfully. “I figured it could last until I left for New York, but now I’m staying in Illinois.”

“June retired as ‘Cunt Whore’ before Kristen knew it. June always thought of it as a game, though, and let Kris play. June loves being ordered, though, so it’s different with her.”

“I don’t mind playing games, Jim,” Lynette said seriously, “but love isn’t a game.”

* * *

Lynette led me into the apartment. Kristen was handcuffed to herself in the infamous “Ass Whore” hooks in the floor of the living room. A black hood was over her head.

I almost chuckled at the image, but I knew that Kristen knew me very well, and that would give my identity away. I pointed to my watch and mouthed “How long?”

Lynette held up both hands and flashed them twice, indicating twenty minutes.

Lynette next moved between Kristen’s legs, and pulled something out of her cunt. I heard a buzzing and realized that all the time that Lynette was gone, Kristen had an active vibrator inside her. “I see that she hasn’t dropped this,” Lynette announced. “Think we should get her ready for anal?”

Lynette touched the buzzing vibrator on Kristen’s exposed ass pucker. I could see Kristen shaking her head violently, but she was unable to do anything to prevent the anal violation. Kristen actually froze when Lynette gave the vibrator a gentle shove down.

“Don’t worry,” Lynette mouthed to me when she saw the alarmed expression on my own face.

I trusted Lynette.

Lynette stopped her pressing, and said, “Pussy Slave seems hesitant. Do you want to say something?”

Kristen nodded her head frantically.

Lynette reached within the black hood and untied something. She said, “Spit it out” and Kristen’s head convulsed a couple of times.

Finally, Kristen said, “Please, Mistress!”

“Quiet!” Lynette demanded as she slapped her hand on Kristen’s ass loudly.

Kristen shut up immediately, and Lynette put the wet rags on a nearby end table. I moved over and saw that they weren’t rags at all, but panties belonging to Kristen’s favorite collection of exotic lingerie. Lynette actually gagged Kristen with her own lingerie!

“You can answer, ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ Pussy Slave. Any other words will cause me to reinsert this vibrator into your anal cavity. Do you understand?” Lynette moved the still-buzzing vibrator to Kristen’s ear.

“Yes, Mistress,” Kristen said.

I could hear the distress in Kristen’s voice.

“I have two dollars from this nice young man, here. He’s indicated that he likes what he sees. If I allow your ass to remain virgin, will you spend the night with him, allowing him to use your body as he sees fit, orally or in your cunt, and as many times as he wants?” Lynette asked.

Kristen answered, “No, Mistress.”

Without warning, Lynette paddled Kristen’s ass. “I’ve told you the penalty for saying ‘no,’ Pussy Slave.”

Kristen continued shaking her head.

“The alternative will be for me to demonstrate that you have been broken in by my insertion of this vibrator into your ass as far as I can put it. Would you prefer that?”

Kristen continued shaking her head. She knew what the penalty would be if she gave voice to her answer.

“Will you blow the guy that I have brought over?” Lynette asked.

Kristen nodded, and realized she was allowed to answer in the affirmative. “Yes, Mistress!”

“Will you let him fuck you?” Lynette asked.

“I can’t prevent him in this position!” Kristen complained.

Lynette slapped Kristen’s ass again. “I told you ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ only, Pussy Slave!”

Kristen shook her head. She knew that Lynette could have her fucked easily, but Kristen indicated that she wouldn’t be willing.

“Excuse me, sir,” Lynette said to me. “Can you give me that strap over there?” Lynette indicated something that looked like a white scarf. She put her finger to her mouth to tell me not to say anything.

I handed the scarf to Lynette.

Kristen was shaking her head violently.

Lynette pushed the vibrator back into Kristen’s cunt, but left most of it out. She positioned it so that the back part of it was touching Kristen’s quite erect clit. She then took the scarf and wrapped it between Kristen’s legs and tied it above Kristen’s ass, the scarf holding the vibrator against Kristen’s most sensitive nubbin.

“Fuck!” Kristen cried, her voice quavering as the dildo was resting against her sensitive places.

Lynette cheerfully slapped Kristen’s ass one more time.

The two of us watched Kristen as she tried in vain to wiggle to dislodge the vibrator from its secured location.

“Here’s the deal, Pussy Slave. If the batteries run out, and they’ve been running continuously for a half hour, you win, and I’ll tell this gentleman to leave. However, if you have an orgasm before the batteries give out, then you will have to blow this boy. So now, it’s you against your own body.”

I smiled. Without my cock or semen in her mouth, Kristen always found it difficult to achieve orgasm, although that wasn’t always true with other females, I noticed. Despite this, Lynette knew what a vibrator strategically placed on a vagina would do.

Who would win out?

Kristen’s ass was dancing in the air as she tried, fruitlessly, to dislodge the tormenting object.

I watched the scene play out, and finally, Kristen threw caution to the air.

“MISTRESS!” Kristen cried out.

Lynette dutifully slapped Kristen’s ass.

Kristen wouldn’t be deterred. “Give me the guy’s cock. Let me blow him. Don’t make me come; I don’t deserve it!”

This was an interesting turn of events. I looked at Lynette, who looked more than a bit surprised.

I shrugged back at Lynette.

“All right, Pussy Slave,” Lynette said, finally. “You suck him, and make him achieve orgasm before you do, and I’ll stop your punishment.”

“Thank you, Mistress!” Kristen said.

I know that I wasn’t the only male that Kristen took to bed. Her first partner was Will, and he took her virginity. I believe that I was Kristen’s second and only other male partner, although I knew that she spent some time with Archy Jonas during the Senior Weekend last spring.

This opened up a new twist, though.

Due to my shortsighted desire for revenge a year back, Kristen had difficulty reaching orgasm thanks to the Lucky Tickets. My wish was that she could only orgasm with my dick or sperm in her mouth. Since I made that wish, I did just about all I could to remove that fixation, but I was only able to lessen her cravings. The effect of the wish made it quite easy for Kristen to come when she was sucking me, and she put that effect to good use in the past.

Now, however, Kristen didn’t have any idea that I was the boy in the room with her. How would Kristen’s body react if her lips touched my dick and she didn’t know that it was my dick? I never tried to do such an experiment before—it never even occurred to me that it might help me get an understanding of the tickets.

I nodded at Lynette, and unzipped my jeans and stuck my rigidly erect dick toward Kristen. I squatted to allow my dick to get access to Kristen’s mouth.

Lynette pulled Kristen’s head up to meet with my cock. It was only in her mouth for a moment before Kristen pulled her head away. ”JIM!“ Kristen screamed, ”I HAD HOPED… Ahh…”

The rest of Kristen’s monologue was reduced to incoherency as she reached orgasm at that very moment.

Lynette was shocked. Kristen not only recognized my cock, but came almost the moment my dick entered her mouth. She watched Kristen, stunned, as Kristen continued moaning and writhing her ass in the air. The sight was hypnotic, and I found myself transfixed by the vision of Kristen achieving her ecstasy.

After a couple of minutes, something told me that something was wrong. Kristen’s orgasm wasn’t subsiding; it was continuing.

I turned to Lynette. “Lynette, untie that scarf!”

Lynette rushed toward Kristen and removed the scarf that was attaching the vibrator to Kristen’s pussy. Even without the vibrator, Kristen’s cries were still coming out, and her ass was still wriggling in the air.

“Where are the keys?” I asked.

Lynette got them from the end table and quickly unfastened Kristen. I took her in my arms, and held her against my body. Kristen was still crying out, her crotch grinding against my pants leg like a dog humping to get off.

There were tears in Kristen’s eyes, and she was still voicing gibberish. Taking out the vibrator hadn’t helped.

“I love you, Kris,” I said to my blonde Goddess.

Kristen continued to convulse.

I pledged my love to Kristen again and again, always with no reaction.

Lynette came over and hugged Kristen as I did at the same time. “I love you, Kris,” Lynette said.

Lynette and I repeated this to Kristen, over and over. After a number of times, Kristen’s eyes flew open, and she wrapped her arms around my neck and held me close. She was no longer screaming, but her breathing was still quite rapid. “Oh, Jim! Lynette!” she cried.

Kristen was no longer humping my leg and I noticed her breathing was starting to come under control. She moved away from me and hugged Lynette.

None of us said anything else; Lynette and I were waiting for Kristen to come down from her stratospheric high.

It took about ten minutes for Kristen’s breathing and heart rate to return to normal. During this time, Kristen would hug either me or Lynette, switching from one to another almost at random. When she was able to talk, she’d whisper that she truly loved the one she was holding, and apologized. Lynette and I returned her affection and offered our forgiveness and our own apology for probably having gone too far with her punishment.

Finally, Kristen pulled both Lynette and me into a big three way hug. “I’m sorry, you guys.”

“We’ve already forgiven you, Kris,” Lynette said.

I nodded in agreement.

“That was a total mind fuck!” Kristen gasped, shuddering at the memory.

“Kristen,” Lynette said, “I didn’t do anything to you that hasn’t already been done to me. I once had a vibrator in me for a half hour, and then it was strapped over my clit, just like I did to you. What happened to you never happened to me.”

Kristen nodded. “You weren’t given Jim’s penis when that happened.”

“Huh?” Lynette asked, confused.

“Put his dick in my mouth, or give me his semen, and I will come. It’s like an amplifier to me.”

Lynette looked at me, and was surprised when I nodded. “You get off on just having a guy put his dick in your mouth? Like that movie, Deep Throat?”

I heard of the movie but never saw it, so I didn’t have any idea what Lynette was saying. Apparently, neither did Kristen.

Lynette explained, “In the movie, the doctor says that Linda Lovelace’s clit is in her throat, so she can only orgasm by sucking deeply. Silly plot, actually, but funny in spots.”

“No. It’s not physical,” Kristen said.

“I think it’s emotional,” I said, trying to come up with a way to explain Kristen’s addiction without having to explain the Lucky Tickets.

“That was scary,” Lynette said.

“It was like I couldn’t stop coming,” Kristen said, her eyes unfocused. “Tasting Jim set me off, and all that pent up stimulation from the vibrator…”

“How did you know it was Jim?” Lynette asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Every girl tastes different,” Kristen answered. “Every guy does, too.”

“That’s true about semen,” Lynette replied. “Not dicks.”

Kristen shook her head. “I’ve sucked or licked Jim’s dick nearly every day since we started going together except for the week I spent in Austria and the two weeks I was in New England with Camille. Trust me, Lynette, you can get familiar with his special taste.”

Lynette seemed mollified, as she was no longer staring at either of us with suspicion in her eyes.

The three of us hugged one another, pledging our love for one another.

It took an act of stupidity to bring the three of us to this point. For the first time in my life, I was glad that it wasn’t entirely me that was responsible for that stupidity.

Kristen explained that she was attempting to keep me happy, since it seemed that the more girls that were around the place, the happier she thought I was.

I explained that I was only truly happy when Kristen was with me and when she was happy herself. I also knew that the key to Kristen’s happiness wasn’t just me. Lynette was a very big part of it now, as well as Kristen’s family.

While Kristen was in Boston, Lynette and I started to feel comfortable with each other. I guess that both of us originally felt that there was some sort of competition between us for Kristen’s affections before, but seeing how Kristen’s actions affected Lynette, and vice versa, the bond between Lynette and me actually grew stronger.

Instead of the three of us forming a narrow triangle with the two long sides representing Lynette’s and my love to and from Kristen, and the small side representing the love between Lynette and me, there was now something that more closely approached an equilateral triangle, thanks to Lynette’s and my blossoming relationship. Hopefully, over time, this triangle would become more and more equal between the three of us. I knew it wouldn’t happen overnight, but we were on our way there.

* * *

At dinner, Lynette and Merry were the main focus as the two girls talked about cheerleading. Merry’s father wasn’t too pleased that his young daughter was on the varsity squad, but Lynette seemed to mollify him, especially when she explained that Camille and she instituted the new policy two years ago to make the squad better and the qualifications more strenuous.

“Merry got on the squad because she worked hard for it, Mr. Cummings,” Lynette explained. “I know she did, because I coached her. She didn’t let up a bit.”

“I guess,” Merry’s father allowed.

Lynette continued. “I wasn’t at the tryouts, but the girls all knew that it takes talent nowadays to get on the squad. Merry got in as the only sophomore. Camille got in as a sophomore under the old rules, and I worked real hard to get in during mid-season in tenth grade. It wasn’t easy, because talent didn’t count for much, then.”

“I thought only Camille and Sherry made it in tenth,” I said.

“I made it in tenth, too,” Lynette said. “I became captain the next year, because I showed most of those pinheads that we could do a heck of a lot better. I suggested Sherry to be head cheerleader this year, but she declined for personal reasons.”

I didn’t say anything about Sherry, but I remembered that June told me that Sherry wasn’t the captain of the squad because she didn’t want to be part of Lynette and Camille’s “convenient fuck for the athletic team” duties.

Lynette smiled at me as she understood that I knew about Sherry’s refusal. “Anyway,” she continued, “I worked hard with Camille to get the entrance standards count ability higher than referrals from other squad members, and the team last year was great, especially when Jim and Camille talked Sherry into trying out mid-season.”

“You mean that only Camille and I made it as a sophomore pre-season?” Merry asked.

“Before Camille got on the squad, the squad refused to even consider tenth graders.”

“Wow,” Merry said, very impressed now.

“The fact that you’re Jim’s sister helped, but you would have gotten the required sponsorship anyway, knowing you, Merry.”

Merry beamed at me.

“I’m proud of you, Shortcake!” I grinned.

“Unless they changed anything, Thursday afternoons are practices,” Lynette pointed out. “Will you have trouble getting to and from school before school starts?”

Merry said, “Jackie told me about the practices on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

Lynette smiled. “Sherry got her way! I’m happy.”

“Huh?” I asked, confused.

“If Sherry had her way, she’d have practices every day, just like the football team. She’s getting there.”

I nodded.

Lynette shrugged. “Sherry would make a much better captain.” She sighed, and then said, “Will you need a ride during the summer, Merry?”

“Oh, I can ride my bike,” Merry said.

“What if it rains?” my mother asked.

“Oh!” Merry said, not having expected that question.

“Practices are held inside the gym when it rains,” Lynette explained. “I have a late class on Tuesdays, so I can’t be any help.”

“Me, too,” said Kristen.

Merry looked at me, but I didn’t drive, and without Lynette or Kristen, I didn’t have anybody that could drive her except the limo driver I used, or Harry from the main house. Neither of those were really mine to offer.

Merry noticed my hesitation and then shifted her attention to my mother.

“What time, Merry?” my mother asked.

“Noon on Tuesdays and Thursdays, until four.”

“Four hours?” Lynette asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Until school starts,” Merry said. “Then it’s two until four thirty.”

“Way to go, Sherry!” Lynette said, happily. “I have Thursdays available. Maybe I’ll give Sherry a call to see if she can use a hand. I’d love to help out!”

“I think that I can be around to drive you if the weather is bad,” my mother assured Merry.

I laughed. “The Varsity Cheerleading Squad, starring Sherry and Merry!”

Everybody at the table laughed at that.

My mother decided to change the subject. She turned to Kristen, who hadn’t said much, and said, “Jim says that you’re building him a music studio.”

“It’s already built,” Kristen said. “I’m now in the process of getting equipment. I got a good second-hand amplifier for the electric piano. He needs a mixer and some other stuff.”

“That sounds expensive,” my step-father said.

Kristen shrugged. “What’s the use of having money if I can’t spend it? Most of the stuff we’re getting is second-hand. The beauty is that if we decide to get rid of it, I already know who the second-hand dealers are.”

My step-father didn’t have any response to that.

“Jim plays beautifully,” Lynette said. This was echoed by most of the other people at the table, to my embarrassment.

“I taught him piano at an early age,” Mom said. “He picked it up quickly, reading music almost before he could read words.”

I shrugged. “You make me sound like a child prodigy.”

My mother shrugged as well. “Your music teacher, Mr. Proilet, says you are one of the most talented musicians he’s ever met.”

Very embarrassed, I said, “I think he’s exaggerating.”

“He most certainly is not,” Kristen said, her voice sounding very stern. “My mom taught me piano at that age, too, Jim. I just never really cared for playing, because she kept me playing classics like the ’Moonlight Sonata.’ You have a love of music that transcends anything I’ve seen. You even made my mother sound like a professional musician at my birthday party!”

“She was a professional musician when she met your father,” I pointed out.

“Mom hasn’t performed in twenty years!”

Everybody at the table watched Kristen and I, their faces fascinated. I think this was one of the first times we ever had a minor disagreement in public.

“Your mother could read music, and I’m pretty sure she actually sang that song herself at one time,” I said. “Did you know that the arrangement that Mr. Proilet gave me was an adaptation of the one that Barry Manilow did for Bette Midler?”

“Stop changing the subject!” Kristen said, raising her voice. “Can’t you admit that you’re a great musician?”

I looked around, and saw that everybody was watching the two of us. “OK, Kris. I’m sorry. I just don’t like it when people…”

“I know, honey,” Kristen said softly. She turned to my mother and said, “I’m sorry for raising my voice. It just hurts me when Jim says things like that about himself.”

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” my mother said.

“Please, Mom,” I said, “it’s not a problem. I just get uncomfortable when people tell me how good I am. Mr. Thurd used to say it all the time in junior high, and he kept pushing me, having me learn how to arrange music, how to write vocal parts, how to do sight transposition. It was boring! I did it just to shut him up.”

Of course, I didn’t mention it, but since learning all those “boring things,” I enjoyed music even more.

Kristen shook her head. “This year, you were outstanding. You dominated all the concerts and the school musical was fantastic!”

I finally smiled. “That’s because you were there, Kris.”

That compliment earned me a kiss from my favorite blonde Goddess.

I think everybody at the table seemed quite relieved that our minor disagreement abated.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” Kristen said, quietly. “I know you hate hearing Oogie Stories. You also are uncomfortable when people say nice things about you. I think you’re sweet.”

Merry’s father decided to move the conversation to a safer subject. He said, “Lynette, you said you were going to college locally.”

“I’m attending the community college with Kristen. We’re both taking business classes, as is Patty Nadal.”

Merry said, “I’ve been meaning to ask, Lynette. I heard you received a scholarship to Hofstra.”

Lynette smiled. “I received a partial scholarship there, and one of the professors was thinking about starting a dance program there. I discussed it with my parents, who really couldn’t afford the tuition, and with some of my friends. I really wanted to major in business, and Kristen convinced me to tag along with her for a couple of years at the community college. It’s cheaper and more convenient to where I’m living.”

“Patty’s also taking business courses there,” I said. “She’s going to minor in art.”

“I think Kristen has plans for all of us when we get out of college,” Lynette said mischievously.

“Oh?” Kristen asked, innocently. “I’ve got plans?”

Chapter 30—Injury

Instant karma’s gonna get you!

Gonna look you right in the face.

Better get yourself together darlin’,

Join the human race.

How in the world you gonna see,

Laughin’ at fools like me?

Who in the hell d’you think you are?

A super star?

Well, right you are!

Well we all shine on,

Like the moon and the stars and the sun!

Well we all shine on,

Ev’ryone come on!

John Lennon

Instant Karma

Later on that day, Lynette came downstairs and found me in the billiard room.

“Want to play?” I asked.

“What stakes?”

“Showers,” I said. “How about the loser has to soap the winner to orgasm for every game that he or she loses?”

“How many games?” Lynette asked.

“Until I win one. I have plans for tonight that include you and Kris, and June’s mother tried to wear me out last night.”

“You asked for what you got, Jim,” Lynette pointed out. “Anyway, I’m glad I’m multi-orgasmic.” Lynette broke the rack she set up. Two solid balls sunk.

I groaned. Although Lynette and I were about even in our abilities at pool, Lynette was terrific when she had an incentive.

We ended at five games: Lynette won four, and I only one.

It was a lovely shower.

* * *

Kristen and June arrived together in the shower. The two girls saw Lynette blowing me.

“Lynette lost?” Kristen asked.

“She won, four orgasms to one,” I answered, savoring Lynette’s talented tongue on my organ. “She already got her payment.”

My eyes noticed June, and my balls sent a signal to my mouth to order June to get her oral talents over here to replace Lynette.

For once, my mouth was smart enough not to obey such a stupid signal.

Let me take a break from this story to tell you this unnecessary piece of advice. If you are receiving sexual stimulation from anybody, it is never a good idea to ask somebody else to come and take over. This advice may not be applicable to necrophiliacs, however.

Instead, Kristen took June to the shower opposite the one Lynette and I were using, and slowly started lathering soap between June’s legs.

My eyes were glued to the action between my beloved Kristen and my best friend. June’s ass was sticking out toward me, moving back and forth as Kristen stimulated her slowly. Kristen and June rarely spent time alone together, but they did get along nicely when they did.

Kristen was kneeling down, her head nearly level with June’s crotch.

I knew from Kristen’s position what she wanted.

I fondled Lynette’s wet head and I pulled her upward until her lips were about even with my chin. I lowered my head and kissed her fully.

When we broke the kiss, I turned so that Lynette could see Kristen and June. “Think Kristen needs some soap?” I asked Lynette in a whisper.

Lynette giggled and she dragged me over to the other two girls. She knelt behind Kristen, taking a bar of soap and making a lather before she massaged Kristen’s breasts from behind.

At the same time, I turned June so that she was facing Kristen, and I grabbed a bar of soap myself and massaged June the same way that Lynette was doing Kristen.

Slowly, I started moving my prick up June’s ass crack to stimulate the lower length of my shaft, and then, as I moved it down, I redirected the shaft to probe between June’s legs, sliding alongside her pussy lips, spreading them until I felt the slight nub of June’s clit. I continued pressing my shaft until the head of my cock emerged in front of June.

After a second, I felt the flutter of Kristen’s tongue as she started to lick me, and I relished the sensations, moving my shaft slightly back and forth to increase the stimulation that June was feeling.

Kristen was the only woman I knew who didn’t have a problem with licking my cock when it had soap on it. She couldn’t lick any other part of me or anybody else when it had soap on it except my cock. Both Kristen and I figured that this was due to my wish that had my cock taste better than just about anything else, which I guess meant that her brain simply filtered out the alkaline taste of the soap when she had my dick in her mouth.

Meanwhile, Lynette and I continued soaping our partners’ breasts, our fingers circling their skin and occasionally flicking erect nipples. I could feel Kristen’s hot breath on the tip of my penis as her breathing increased.

I started moving my cock back and forth with large movements, pausing when I was as far as I could push to allow Kristen to kiss and lick my shaft before returning for another stroke.

It didn’t take much time before my cock was ready, having been primed by Lynette’s sucking earlier and now with the stimulation of Kristen’s talented tongue and June’s now-erect clit as I slipped back and forth.

Kristen was rewarded with a small eruption, and she took it in her mouth and continued to lick the head. I knew from the fact that Kristen wasn’t sucking me that some of my first spurt ended on Kristen’s face. I pulled back quickly and pushed forward just as quickly, but there was no more semen in my body.

Kristen’s lips reluctantly released my dick, and June bent down immediately to lick up the semen from my first spurt from Kristen’s face like a happy puppy. After a few seconds of licking, the two girls kissed, and Kristen was able to get my seed second hand.

I moved one of my hands from June’s breast and started to fondle between her legs. I hadn’t realized how close June was, as my hand was soon covered with her lubrication as she started to scream in ecstasy.

I continued manipulating the lovely cheerleader and I started to whisper into her ear, “Juicy June… the wettest cheerleader in school!”

“OOH,” June screamed. “YOU NASTY BOY… FUCK!”

Kristen had moved up so that she was able to kiss June on the lips to help limit the echoing as I continued whispering “Juicy June loves getting her ass fucked in front of her mother” and other “nasty” things to her over and over, extending June’s orgasm.

I felt Kristen’s fingers intertwine with mine as the two of us fondled June.

Meanwhile, Kristen reached her limit and started moaning herself into June’s mouth as Lynette’s talented fingers achieved their goal.

Hearing the two friends moaning in stereo was wonderful as their voices echoed in the shower room.

It took only a couple of minutes for the two girls to slow down, despite the fact that Lynette and I were still rubbing the girls. I knew that June had squeezed her legs together to prevent my fingers from returning, and I reluctantly obeyed her wishes.

Everybody was breathless, despite the fact that Kristen and June had only been in the shower for fifteen minutes or so.

June said, “Hey! That’s not fair! Lynette didn’t get to come!”

“Jim gave me four nice ones right before you got here.”

“That was one on one,” June said. “I think we should gang up on Lynette!”

“Massage?” I asked, grinning.

“No!” Lynette protested.

Kristen got an evil gleam in her eyes. “Nozzle, Jim! June, help me hold her!” Kristen pushed Lynette until she was laying on the floor.

As soon as Lynette was on the floor, June squatted over Lynette’s face. Meanwhile, I disengaged the shower massage head from its holder. Kristen had recently replaced the standard shower heads with ones that could be held in the hand and set to various pulsing rates. After purchasing them, I tried to install them, but found that the lengths of the hoses were too short. That was rectified after a visit from a plumber who installed longer hoses on the units.

I went to the changing area and found a flow concentrator that Kristen had requested from the plumber and using a quick-connect coupling, quickly replaced the massaging head with the flow concentrator. It had a convenient control that allowed the water to be turned on or off from the nozzle.

“Nooomph!” Lynette cried as she heard me make the arrangements, her voice muffled by June’s bush.

I offered the nozzle to Kristen, who grinned wickedly. She aimed it directly on the hood that hid Lynette’s clitoris.

Lynette’s reaction was immediate. She screamed and her head moved up, almost toppling June over.

Kristen indicated for me to lower the pressure on the hose, and I did so.

It took only three more spurts of varying lengths before Lynette achieved her fifth and then sixth orgasm in the shower. Kristen helped calm Lynette down by lightly licking between Lynette’s legs.

June got up off Lynette’s face, and Lynette’s face was a mask of pure pleasure. I could only imagine the effect that the nozzle would have on a woman’s most sensitive spot on her body.

I watched Lynette’s breasts move up and down, her beautiful nipples rock hard.

Eventually, Lynette lightly caressed Kristen’s head, and Kristen finally got up, her job complete.

“One of these days, I’m going to nozzle you, you fucking bitch!” Lynette warned.

“Promises, promises!” Kristen said, knowing that Lynette’s threat was empty, as it took quite a while for Lynette to recover from a good nozzling. It seemed that the first spurt, no matter how much we tried to decrease the flow to the nozzle, was always just a bit too strong.

The first time that Kristen nozzled Lynette, I had been kissing Lynette, and her reaction caused a small bruise on my lips as her head moved up unexpectedly as the first stream hit her. There was also some minor bruising between her legs and she was sore for about three days. Kristen learned to reduce the pressure on the shower controls before using the nozzle after that.

So far, no other girl had allowed anybody to nozzle her; although I saw a wistful look from June as she had watched Lynette get nozzled her first time.

This was only the third time we nozzled Lynette, and we now had a few rules that required Lynette to be securely held to the shower floor, and for the nozzler (almost always Kristen) to carefully lick her afterward to help bring her down gently.

I think that the nozzle was Kristen’s special torture device for Lynette to pay her back for what we simply called the “vibrator incident” where Kristen had been set off so hard that it took both Lynette and I to bring her down.

Kristen put the nozzle down, and moved over Lynette’s body so that the two girls were breast to breast and face to face, with Kristen face down.

I massaged Kristen’s back, and caressed her ass. I moved my body over hers, as I silently signaled to June. June’s eyes widened as she moved so that she was kneeling at the two girls’ heads.

I faked a massage rub, and instead rolled Kristen off Lynette.

“Hey!” Kristen protested as June got into position over Kristen’s face. “No! No! NO!” Kristen yelled until her protests were muffled by June’s crotch.

Lynette saw me pinning Kristen’s feet with my knees spreading Kristen’s legs.

“Have the energy, sweetie?” I asked Lynette.

Slowly, Lynette nodded, and crawled until she could find the nozzle.

It took a minute or two for Lynette to get the water back on, and it didn’t occur to me that she didn’t take the same care to keep the pressure low as I did. As it was, Kristen was wriggling too much for me to be able to reach the water controls. When I looked up, my brain noticed that something wasn’t quite right, but I couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

Before I could warn Lynette, the first spurt hit its mark.

“NO!” Kristen screamed, completely toppling June, who, luckily, didn’t get hurt.

“Two more, bitch!” Lynette said, menacingly.

Kristen tried to get out of my grip, but I held her. June tried to get back into position, but Kristen kept her away.

As June was distracting Kristen, Lynette let loose with a second spurt.

“Yiiiieeeee!” Kristen screamed, and she got free of my grasp, but her legs were already convulsing.

Lynette dropped the nozzle and started to crawl toward Kristen. June saw the slowness of Lynette’s progress, and she moved quickly between Kristen’s legs to help ease her back.

Lynette saw June take over and sighed.

June moved up. “She’s freezing down there. Didn’t you use warm water?”

Lynette said, “I… I forgot the hot.”

June resumed her licking.

Usually, after a nozzling, it took Kristen and me to bring Lynette back upstairs. We’d put her to bed and she’d fall asleep almost immediately, and wouldn’t engage in sex for about twenty-four hours.

Now we had two fallen soldiers.

I wondered how willing Kristen would be to use the nozzle again now that she had experienced its annihilating capabilities.

When Kristen came down, she said one word. “Shit!”

I laughed, and I signaled to June that we should bring Lynette upstairs first, since she’s had the most time to recover.

We picked up Lynette by the arms, and deposited her on one of the seats molded into the wall part of the changing area. We toweled her off, and June did that magical turban wrap on Lynette’s head that females seem to know how to tie instinctively.

“One… two… three…” I said, and June and I started the arduous task of dragging Lynette’s sorry ass upstairs.

As we got to the stairway, I realized for the third time that we’d either need to install an elevator or add another bedroom or two downstairs if the girls insisted on using nozzles on each other.

It took us about ten minutes to get Lynette into the spare bedroom.

When we got back, Kristen was still in the same position. I was a little worried, but Kristen wasn’t screaming or anything. As it was, it took June and me about twenty minutes to bring Kristen upstairs. When we got her into the spare bedroom, Lynette was already fast asleep in the middle of the bed. I sat Kristen down as June moved Lynette’s nearly lifeless body over onto what I knew to be the “wrong” side of the bed for her.

I shrugged, and June and I tucked Kristen in.

“I love you, Goddess,” I said as I kissed her good night.

“I’m going to get even with you, lover,” Kristen said half-heartedly.

“Do your worst,” I said, giving her a final kiss on the head.

* * *

“They’re going to be out until tomorrow morning,” I told June.

“They have class in the morning,” June pointed out.

I shrugged. “It’s not my problem. They nozzled each other.”

“It’s only four p.m.,” June said. “Want me to make supper?”

I shook my head. “Do you know where Roman’s is?”

“Where Patty works?” June asked.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Now, THAT sounds like a good idea!”

* * *

Patty was working behind the counter and seemed surprised to see June and me alone together. “Hey, Jim, June! Where’s Kris and Lynette?”

“Unconscious,” I said. “They nozzled each other.”

Patty hadn’t seen our latest addition to the shower room, but had already heard from Lynette about its devastating effects. “They have class tomorrow!”

“They knew that before they started in on each other,” I said.

June said, “I think Lynette will be at class tomorrow, even though she got four to Kristen’s two. She seems to be recovering quicker with experience.”

Patty just shook her head. “So, what will you guys have?”

I looked at June. “Pepperoni and sausage?”

June smiled. “Onions, too?”

“Sounds fine,” I turned to Patty. “How long?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Patty said. “Two drinks?”

June and I nodded.

She totaled our bill and I paid.

June and I found ourselves a comfortable booth, and we talked about Merry’s upcoming initiation.

“I’m going to be first with you during the seven minutes of heaven,” June said. “I think I can blow you properly in seven minutes.”

“No!” I said, automatically, knowing that June’s blow jobs were as devastating to me as the nozzle seemed to be for females.

June laughed. “Something you don’t know, and maybe I’m not supposed to tell you, but if any cheerleader makes you come, the offending person has to undergo a public punishment.”

“Public?”

“Lynette never told us what it was, but we always tried to get the guys right to the point before we left them.”

“You wouldn’t!” I protested.

“Of course not,” June said, grinning at me. “I’ll simply swallow as you shoot. No evidence. Makes you safe for any cheerleader that follows.”

I laughed. “No, that may work, but the idea of seventeen other girls afterward is still too much to bear.”

“Aww, poor baby.”

Patty arrived with our pizza, and then moved into the booth next to me. “Dinner break.”

“Help yourself, Patty,” I said.

“I added hamburger and extra cheese for no charge.”

“Yum!” I said.

The three of us ate our first slice silently. When Patty finished hers, she asked, “So, it’s you and June solo until tomorrow night?”

“There’s Merry’s initiation,” I said.

“But it’s just you and June… two friends tonight?”

“Yeah,” I said. June nodded in agreement.

“Want company?” Patty asked. “I prefer sleeping with friends than with two lovers.”

“Overnight?” I asked.

“Why not? I can try to help rouse Kristen tomorrow morning.”

“What about your mother?” I asked.

“She knows we’re all friends. She doesn’t necessarily approve, but since I’m contributing to the household money, she doesn’t complain.”

I looked at June.

June understood that I was asking permission from her. “We’d love to have you, Patty,” June said.

“Thank you, June,” Patty said. “You are sweet, Jim, to think of June before answering.”

I blushed. “Good manners are always proper.”

June giggled. “Jim is such a sweetie. You should have seen how romantic Jim was last night at Emilio’s.”

I didn’t think talking about June’s anal encounter was a good idea at Roman’s, so I switched the subject. “We can introduce you to the nozzle when we wash all that garlic out of your body.”

“You do that,” Patty warned, “and I will personally bite your dick off.”

“I didn’t say we’d use it. You need four people to do it properly.”

Patty looked at June and then back at me. She finally laughed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys come up with a dungeon in the area where the garage is.”

“That would have to be in the basement,” I pointed out. “When Marla was visiting, Kris described my music studio as a torture chamber, with the covered electric piano as a vivisection table!”

“You never told me how that ended up,” Patty said.

“She wanted me to take her virginity, but I didn’t want to do it, so Kristen ended up scaring her into reconsidering.”

“And?”

“I don’t think she was satisfied, Patty,” I admitted. “I think she knew Kristen’s intentions and pretended to be scared. She still writes—I received another long letter from her yesterday. This one sounds different—maybe a bit more mature.”

“Sounds as if the two of you found the right answer.”

“Until next summer, of course. But by then, we might have our dungeon complete and scare her shitless!”

Patty and June laughed together.

June then asked me about what her mother said when she visited.

I sighed. There weren’t too many people around us, so I quickly brought Patty up to date on what June and I had done the night before.

“You guys really did that?” Patty asked, totally surprised.

“It was Jim,” June said. “He just seemed to have this idea about my mom, and this morning, when we talked, she said that she always had fantasies like that. She’s not into pain, but Jim made her feel so helpless as if she didn’t have any choice.”

“You handcuffed your own mother!” Patty said, then realized where she was and lowered her voice.

“Jim told me to do that.”

Patty looked at me for a few moments, and then shook her head and laughed. “I remember the sweetie pie that took us to Kneely Park last year. You’ve grown up in a year.”

“I’m still your sweetie pie, Patty,” I said.

“I know.”

Patty needed to get back to work.

June and I went to the nearby theater that was showing a popular movie called Shampoo, starring Warren Beatty, Julie Christie, and Goldie Hawn.

The theater was mostly packed, and since I prefer sitting in the center of the theater, there were people all around us. Even so, during the movie, I pulled June’s sun dress up way over her waist and June wiggled out of her panties discreetly. I whispered instructions to June, and she managed to take off her bra without removing the rest of her dress.

The girl on the other side of June apparently knew what the two of us were doing. Despite the fact that the darkness of the theater and June’s skin, there wasn’t much of June to be seen, I think the girl saw the whiteness of my hand fondling between June’s legs.

During a steamy scene on a bathroom floor where George, the hairdresser, is making love with Jackie, his mistress, I started fingering June directly on her clit. I heard June’s breath catch as she watched the scene and felt my finger between her legs.

It didn’t take long before I could read June’s cues. I moved over and kissed her hard, trying to prevent June from screaming out. It took about a minute for June to calm down and I was able to stop kissing her.

As I moved away from June, I noticed that the girl sitting next to her quickly looked away as I caught her watching us.

“The girl next to you watched you climax,” I whispered to June’s closest ear.

June moved over to kiss me, and before she pulled away, she whispered back, “You nasty, nasty boy!”

* * *

After the movie, there was about a half hour before Patty was able to get out of work. We just hung around.

“What you did to me in the theater was nasty!” June said, blushing to me.

“Didn’t you love it?” I asked.

“That’s not the point!” June protested.

“That is the point.”

“Mama’s right. You are dangerous.”

“I didn’t ask you to blow me in the theater!” I pointed out.

June started giggling. “You probably don’t have anything left. I saw what Kristen was able to coax out of you.”

“I’m sure you could conjure up a quart or so, my talented Baby.”

“You’d need a miracle, Jim.”

“Ouch!” I said, pretending to be insulted.

* * *

Once the three of us returned to the apartment, we led Patty straight to the communal shower room, and without saying a word, we systematically undressed Patty.

I brought Patty to one of the newer shower heads that I already snapped the nozzle to. June and I then gave Patty a practice spurt on her palm.

“That’s it?” Patty asked, confused.

“That’s not it,” I said. “Think of a girl, fresh from an orgasm, some additional water pressure, that stream directed strategically, and two people holding her down.”

“Oh!” Patty said. “It goes stronger?”

June turned up the pressure.

“OW!” Patty yelled, rubbing her palm where the stream hit her.

“Our first test, Lynette got a painful bruise,” I said. “We normally try to lower the pressure, but I made the mistake of having a nearly comatose Lynette turn on the water when she did Kristen’s first time. All cold water.”

June nodded. “Kristen is bruised. I could see it starting when we put her to bed.”

I sighed, hating to think of my beloved Goddess hurt.

“Maybe you can get that plumber back and find out a way to automatically limit the pressure when the nozzle is attached,” Patty suggested.

“Yeah,” I said. “We never thought about human error.”

“Can you put on the regular shower head, please?” Patty asked. “Just being naked near it scares me.”

“Sure, Patty,” I said, showing her how the quick-connect coupling worked. The water flowed out, surprising Patty, since she was in direct aim, although the shower head was set to a fine spray—apparently, the water was a bit too cold.

We spent our usual forty-five minutes in the shower, fingers and hands roaming between our three bodies with abandon.

I intentionally didn’t bring my partners to orgasm, and they kept me hard but never anywhere near the edge. This was just a playful soak and cuddle between three friends.

Afterward, I asked June for some private time with Patty, and sent June upstairs as I brought Patty into my music studio.

“Is this your studio?” Patty asked.

“Yup.”

“That’s your recorder?” Patty said, pointing to the open reel deck.

“Yeah. I’m working on a special present for Kris and Lynette.”

Patty smiled. “Like your Hooked on a Feeling session?”

“Yup. Feel special, since I only invite one girl at a time in here for my special sessions.”

“Special session?” Patty asked.

“I’m trying to perfect them before bringing Lynette or Kristen in for one. May I practice with you?”

“How many girls have you practiced with?”

“So far, only Marla had a special session here with me. I did something similar with June in school in one of the practice rooms.”

“What does it involve?”

I smiled. “Position yourself on my lap so my cock sticks up in front of your pussy. I hold the keyboards like this…” I moved my elbows unnecessarily close to Patty’s breasts and wiggled her between them. “And then I play…”

I was sitting between two overlapping electric keyboards, which were on different movable panels at different heights so I could switch which one was on my left and which was on my right. One of the keyboards was a new electronic organ that Kristen and I picked out, and the other was my venerable electric piano that Kristen gave me for Christmas. I set them up so that I could get the right sound. I started a good funky bass line for an intro, and then sung:

Green eyed lady, lovely lady,

Strolling slowly towards the sun.

Green eyed lady, ocean lady,

Soothing every raging wave that comes!

When I started playing the first solo, Patty started wiggling on my lap, just as Marla and June did previously. “This is so erotic!” Patty said, breathing heavily.

“That’s the intention,” I said, gearing up for the next bass line resume.

“Ooh!”

I resumed the vocals.

Green-eyed lady, passions’ lady!

Dressed in love,

She lives for life to be!

Green-eyed lady feels life,

I never see.

Setting suns and lonely lovers free!

At the end of the song, Patty asked, “How do you do that?”

Oh my lord. Not Patty, too!

Patty felt my reaction and said, “I was asking how you can do that bass line with one hand, that accompaniment with your right hand, and sing the words at the same time. You’re doing three different things at once!”

“Oh, that,” I said. “It takes a bit of practice, but nearly performer who plays the keyboards can do it.”

“You’re extremely talented. You actually sounded like Van Morrison!”

“Sugarloaf,” I corrected. “Van Morrison is this one…”

I started the intro to Brown Eyed Girl.

“Oh, yeah. Actually, my favorite Van Morrison song is…”

“I know…”

I started the opening chords for Moon Dance.

Well it’s a marvelous night for a moon dance,

With the stars up above in your eyes.

A fantabulous night to make romance,

‘Neath the cover of October skies.

And all the leaves on the trees are falling,

To the sound of the breezes that blow.

And I’m trying to please to the calling,

Of your heart-strings that play soft and low.

You know the night’s magic,

Seems to whisper and hush,

And all the soft moonlight,

Seems to shine in your blush...

“That’s it!” Patty said when I stopped.

“It sounds better with a flute, a drum, and the upright over there.”

“You make it sound better than the original,” Patty said.

To me, the solo part really sounded weird on the electric piano, and when the sax solo was supposed to start, I simply just hugged Patty.

“I think June’s waiting for us,” I said.

“I think that’s sexy, sitting on your lap as you play,” Patty said.

“Thanks. I need to find the perfect songs for Lynette and Kristen.”

“You’re a wonderful lover, Jim,” Patty said. “You’re also a very special friend.”

“So are you, Patty,” I said, as we entered the upstairs apartment.

June was waiting for me. “I checked on Kristen. She’s definitely bruising. No making love for her for a while.”

Oh, shit. I felt terrible, even if I hadn’t done it to my Goddess.

I turned to Patty. “Is there anything I can do to help her?”

“Steaks are usually used for bruises, Jim, but I think it would be unsanitary to put one between her legs.”

I sighed.

Patty, June, and I retired to the master bedroom. I slept between the two girls, my hands cupping Patty’s breasts all night.

* * *

The next morning, I woke up and thought I was dreaming. There were warm lips sucking my cock, and Patty’s long red hair was draped over my crotch, a river of orange-red that I fantasized about so many times since the first time Patty did this for me.

June surprised Patty by kissing her as soon as I shot my load into Patty’s mouth. Although Patty knew of Kristen’s addiction, I think June surprised her. Actually, I think that June simply thought that this was normal sexual behavior in our apartment.

“What time is it?” I asked, sleepily.

“I need to get to class in an hour,” Patty answered. “I’ll try to wake the bodies decomposing in the spare bedroom.”

About ten minutes after Patty left, Lynette came into the bedroom. “Um, Jim… June.” Lynette’s eyes were downcast.

“What’s wrong, Lynette?” I asked.

“I hurt Kristen yesterday,” Lynette said, sounding very guilty.

“I remember she did something similar to you the first time,” I pointed out.

“I didn’t even think about the water pressure.”

“Patty told me we should get the plumber to put on some sort of flow restrictor so this can’t happen again.”

Lynette nodded, but her heart was truly broken.

I hugged her tightly, telling her that nobody was angry at her. She seemed to appreciate my words, but I don’t think I lifted her spirits very much.

As Lynette left the room, I knew by the way my heart went out to her how much I truly loved her. I wished that I could have consoled her, but I didn’t think that would be possible until Kristen actually woke up.

Patty drove Lynette to class, and I was happy my friend was with Lynette. On more than one occasion, Patty helped me feel better when I felt lower than dog shit. I hoped she would be able to help Lynette.

* * *

After the girls left, I visited Kristen. It only took a casual glance to see how sore Kristen was.

Kristen’s eyes opened when I was nearby. “Hi, Jim!” Kristen said, groggily.

“Hey, kiddo. That looks like a nasty bruise.”

“I know how Lynette felt that first day.”

I smiled. “New rule: anybody that’s been nozzled in the last six hours cannot hold the nozzle.”

Kristen smiled. “You like rules.”

“I prefer to know when they are being crossed, rather than find out afterward that they’ve already been crossed.”

Kristen nodded.

“Do you want me to drive you to the doctor’s?”

“With this sort of injury, they’ll suspect rape, Jim.”

“Tell them the truth.”

“Girls don’t always admit rape. Think about Patty.”

I sighed. Kristen was right. Still, it really hurt me to see Kristen like this. When Lynette was hurt, she ended up missing classes for a day before she was able to walk properly, and Kristen looked worse—much worse.

“Maybe we’re going too much for the extreme.”

Kristen shrugged.

I left the spare bedroom into the kitchen. I used the intercom there to get to the main house.

“Harry, this is Jim.”

“Hey, Jim!”

“I need some help. Kristen got hurt yesterday when some horseplay went bad. She’s bruised today and probably can’t walk.”

There was a pause. “I think there’s a wheelchair here from when Charley’s mother was staying here a few years ago. Are you going to need me to drive you to a hospital?”

“A general practitioner would probably do, Harry.”

“Anything else?”

“I’ll need a hand getting her downstairs.”

“Certainly.”

I went back to the spare bedroom, and asked June to help me put on a pair of sweats on Kristen, despite Kristen’s objections.

When Kristen saw Harry at the door, she went ballistic. “I don’t need to go to the doctor’s.”

Harry didn’t miss a beat. “Very well, Miss Swift. I think your mother is in the main house. I haven’t informed her where I am, but I’ll send her over to make the final decision.”

“No!” Kristen shouted.

“Either you come with me, or I send your mother in.”

Kristen glared at Harry, but he wouldn’t be cowed. I was actually impressed. I always thought house servants as… well, as servants. Harry, on the other hand, was definitely not acting like a servant but was giving the orders.

“I’ll go down,” Kristen said. “I’ll need help going downstairs.”

“Jim told me that. I’m here to help him bring you down.”

“I have a pillow, Kris,” June added. “It might help.”

I said, “Harry has a wheelchair downstairs as well.”

“Grammy’s?” Kristen asked, her voice sounding like a child’s.

“Yes, Kris,” Harry said, gently, the voice of authority no longer needed.

“Let’s get going,” Kristen said.

Harry, June, and I helped Kristen downstairs. I don’t think she really needed all three of us, but none of us wanted to not be there for her.

When Kristen was wheeled into the doctor’s office, I was amazed by the response of the staff.

Every memory I have ever had of being in a doctor’s office was that of waiting. You arrived for an appointment at a particular time, and the doctor still wouldn’t see you until an hour after that time. It was always a matter of wait, wait, wait.

Today, this definitely wasn’t the case. Apparently, Harry called ahead, and although he didn’t know the extent of Kristen’s injuries, she was immediately sent into one of the examination rooms. Kristen wanted me to go in with her, but I suggested it might be better if June went instead.

As soon as Kristen left, I sat down and did my normal activity in a doctor’s office. Wait.

When the room was mostly empty, Harry asked me, “Can you tell me what happened?”

I always considered Harry a friend, but I knew where his loyalties were. I also knew that Kristen’s parents both thought of me as the perfect person for their daughter, so I knew that they’d give me the benefit of the doubt. I hadn’t done anything wrong, except not realize that Lynette probably shouldn’t have been the one to turn on the water yesterday. Still, there was something about talking about your girlfriend’s genitals that was off-putting.

“Kristen has a new toy, and she uses it on Lynette. Yesterday, Lynette got even, but didn’t realize that she had the toy set too… strong. Afterward, both girls were out of it, but June and I noticed that Kristen was starting to bruise. I didn’t think much of it, because Lynette bruised the first time and was fine, although a bit sore. This morning, however, when I saw Lynette, I saw that she felt terrible. When I saw Kristen this morning, her bruising was much worse than Lynette’s was.”

Harry nodded. “That explains a lot. Are they going to suspect foul play?”

“Kristen said that they would, and that’s why she didn’t want to go. I was more worried about Kristen’s safety, so I called you.”

“That’s why you sent June in with Kristen.”

“Yeah. June was there when it happened.”

Harry sighed. “I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to explain this to Kris’ parents.”

This was the first time I heard Harry use profanity. I stared at him, not knowing how to react.

“I used to be Kristen’s nanny when she was very young,” Harry said. “My mother took ill about ten years ago, and I had to take care of her until she passed away, so I left. I liked Edgar, but I knew he was due to retire. I’ve known Kristen since she was born, Jim. I know how she is.”

I nodded, unsure of what Harry was trying to say.

“Kristen is sometimes headstrong, and sometimes she can be cruel. Lynette was only getting even, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Kristen has no reason to lie, and June is there with her. I wouldn’t feel worried about what people think about you.”

“I’m not worried about that, Harry.”

Harry looked at me, surprised. “Huh?”

“I feel bad that Kristen got hurt when we were playing together. I know it’s unrealistic, but I keep thinking that I should have prevented it from happening.”

“Ahh,” Harry said, “I feel exactly that same way. Was there something I could have done? Could I have told security not to ignore it when you guys play together?”

“They tell you?” I asked.

“One day, not too long ago, they were really worried. They said that Kristen was screaming bloody murder. I told them to ignore it unless they hear the distress code.”

“That wasn’t really physical that time,” I said, not really wanting to get into details of our sex life with Harry.

“I understand, and it turned out that I was right. I’ve done that a few times, only they said it wasn’t Kristen until yesterday afternoon.”

“I… I didn’t know.”

“Daniel doesn’t want to know about Kristen’s sex life, Jim. He still thinks of her as his little girl. He thinks of you as her Prince Charming, and he probably has no idea what to make of June and Lynette. Personally, I think that June is harmless, but Lynette is a bit extreme.”

“I think the same, actually. Lynette, though, appeals to a side of Kristen that nobody else does. June appeals to me in a similar way.”

Harry nodded. “I suspected as much. Lynette is a very intelligent and lovely woman, Jim. You will still have to make her realize that Kristen doesn’t believe in limits. Kristen’s never walked into a store and made a selection of an outfit because she couldn’t afford the one she really wanted. Lynette probably has, as have you.”

“Yeah,” I said, despite the fact that shopping for clothes was never something that I did with any thought. Harry’s comment seemed to be right on the money.

Harry smiled at me. “I’m not sure what you know about the private side of the family. Daniel always wanted to make sure that Kristen learned to be responsible, whereas Charley, who actually exercised control of Kristen’s purse strings, wanted Kris to enjoy life. I’m not blaming either one, but the upshot was that Kristen might be the one paying for her lack of limits.”

Wow. I never suspected this.

I sighed. “So, what are you going to tell her parents?”

“Damned if I know,” Harry said. “I wish I had your ability to describe something that happened during your sex play in a way that sounded innocuous.”

I nodded. “I think I’ll talk with them. Daniel calls me his future son-in-law. Charley has been doing nothing but chatting with me since Kristen’s birthday party. I might as well tell them that I have feet of clay.”

“Isn’t that what June was for?” Harry asked.

“Huh?” I said, taken aback.

“I talk to Kristen, you know. That’s why I know you’re telling me the truth. One look at Kristen this morning and I knew you were just caught up in another one of those—what did she call them?—Oogie Stories?”

I sighed. “Yup, that’s me. Big ol’ asshole Oogie.”

“Not so much an asshole, Jim,” Harry said. “You’re exactly what Kristen needs. She loves you. She thinks she loves Lynette and maybe Camille, but she loves you. Whenever anything happens, you’re there.”

“Like now,” I said, sourly.

“Like now,” Harry agreed. “You are going to be the one that teaches Kristen limits. Each time she exceeds them, you will react the same way you are doing right now. She’s going to see how her actions affect you, and she’ll change. Little by little, she’ll learn limits, if only to limit the amount of hurt she will do to you.”

“That sounds cruel,” I said.

“My late brother used to train dogs. Obedience trainer, he did some stuff for movies in Hollywood. Anyway, do you know what he said about training dogs instead of puppies? He said, ‘You don’t train them. You shoot them, and find a puppy that looks similar. You train the puppy and wait for it to grow up.’”

I didn’t have any idea where Harry was going with that.

“What he was saying is that to train a grown dog that is already set in its ways is cruel. You are going to have the hardest job in the world, but do you want to know what I think? You’ve started that job the day you met her, and you have taken all the responsibility yourself.”

Of course, this only served to make me feel even more guilty.

Harry added one last thing to say. “Do you want to know why you do this, Jim?”

“Why?”

“Because the reward is worth it,” Harry said. “I’ve spent eighteen years with Kristen, and you will probably spend at least fifty or sixty together. I know how special she is, and Daniel and Charley know how special she is, and Will knows how special she is. Of all of us, it will be you that will get to live with her the rest of her life. I think we all envy you.”

Chapter 31—Limits

Talk in everlasting words,

And dedicate them all to me.

And I will give you all my life,

I’m here if you should call to me.

You think that I don’t even mean

A single word I say?

It’s only words,

And words are all I have,

To take your heart away.

Bee Gees

Words

As Harry predicted, there were no rape counselors or police officers to take me into custody. Kristen came back out, being wheeled by a nurse and accompanied by June.

Actually, Kristen looked in better spirits.

“I think Nurse Ebson wants to try out our shower,” Kristen said.

The nurse wheeling Kristen reddened almost completely to the point where her uniform looked as if it would turn red as well.

“Good,” I said, cheerfully. “I’ll give her control of the nozzle and we’ll see who she wants to embarrass.”

June stifled a giggle, and Kristen simply opened her mouth in shock.

I actually got a look of respect from the nurse for my response. I could also hear Harry’s quiet chuckle behind me.

As Harry drove us home, I asked Kristen how long it would take to set up a temporary bedroom in the garage so that she wouldn’t have to walk up and down the stairs. She looked at Harry and said, “I can buy everything today and have it delivered.”

“How about a water bed?” I asked. “Let’s make it special.”

Kristen smiled. “With a nozzle?”

I sighed and turned to Harry. “Harry, would you be able to handle the logistics of setting up a nice bedroom for our downstairs? I think a water bed with a complete bedroom set, and some dorm room appliances such as a small fridge, a dining room table, and a desk.”

Harry answered, “You seem to have a good idea what you want, Jim. I know a contractor that can wall off a part of the garage for us and I might be able to get him in today.”

“I just want to have a say in at least one of the rooms at the apartment,” I said, laughing.

Kristen continued to smile, appreciating how I was taking charge, and how comfortable I was talking with Harry. “Thank you, Jim. Are you guys going to help me upstairs for today?”

I shook my head. “No, Kristen. I don’t want you home alone.”

Harry said, “I’ll take Kristen into the main house for the afternoon.”

I helped Harry load Kristen into the wheelchair, and June and I watched Harry wheel my lovely Goddess away.

June shivered.

“What’s wrong, Baby?” I asked.

“The doctor told Kris that the best treatment is ice packs for the next couple of days.”

“Yiiiieeeee!” I said, feeling Kristen’s pain from the treatment.

* * *

June and I spent the rest of the morning and the beginning of the afternoon with Kristen. In the afternoon, workers started arriving to partition off a part of the garage for the additional bedroom, and June and I moved back to the apartment.

As usual, when we wanted to make renovations to the apartment, time was rarely an issue. Things were purchased quicker than I thought possible, and workers were assembled and on site as necessary.

June was the person who directed the delivery people to show how to set up the new bedroom.

I moved back between the apartment and the main house, spending time with June and Kristen alternately.

During one of those times I was alone with Kristen, I told her how Lynette was feeling quite guilty about Kristen’s injury.

“Why is she upset?” Kristen asked, quite surprised. “I injured her almost as badly that first time.”

“Lynette is completely head-over-heels in love with you, Kristen. When she realized how much you were injured, it was as if somebody ripped her heart out. Think about how you’d feel if you did something similar to my dick!”

Kristen thought about this, and nodded. “I know she is in love with me. I just never realized that she’d react that way.”

“I know Lynette, Kris,” I said gently. “She will feel a need to demonstrate how sorry she is to you. Just saying the words won’t be enough for her. My hope is that she has a long talk with Patty today. Patty is a good tonic for a guilty soul.”

“We have wonderful friends,” Kristen said.

“We sure do,” I agreed. “Just realize that Lynette will feel a need to prove that she’s sorry. I want you to understand that.”

June came back from the apartment. “Those guys sure work quickly!”

“Got offers for dates, Juicy?” I asked.

June smirked at me.

Kristen asked, “Juicy?”

I laughed.

“That nasty boy called me ‘Juicy June’ when he was fondling me between my legs in front of my mother as he was getting me ready for my ass fuck. He whispered that to me yesterday in the shower as well.”

Kristen laughed. “That’s a great nickname. Too bad we can’t call you that at school.”

June smiled. “I don’t know. It might help tarnish Jim’s reputation even more.”

We all laughed at that.

June got serious. “Patty and Lynette will be getting back here in a bit, Kris. I know for a fact that Lynette really feels bad about your injury.”

“Jim and I were talking about that,” Kristen said.

“I’m afraid that Lynette might leave,” June said.

“What makes you think that?” I asked.

“Lynette was shattered this morning. She looked as if somebody sucked her soul from her body,” June said. “She was crying when she left with Patty.”

“I’m not angry at her,” Kristen said.

“Lynette is angry with herself,” June said. “I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive herself.”

I sighed. I was starting to love Lynette, and I felt bad for her. June was right about who was angry with Lynette, though. I couldn’t see much that any of us could do about that, though.

I noticed that the two girls were actually late now, but I didn’t said anything. I got up and tried to think. I walked toward the apartment, but when I got out of the house, I decided to go back to where June and Kristen were in the living room. Before entering the living room, I took a side trip into the Solarium, walked around the pool, and then exited and went back into the living room.

“Stop that, Jim,” Kristen said.

“Stop what?” I asked.

“You pace when you’re worried,” Kristen said, knowing my moods. “What are you worried about?”

“Lynette.”

Kristen nodded.

As if on cue, Patty arrived at the main house. Lynette was notable in her absence.

“Where’s Lynette?” June, Kristen, and I said simultaneously.

“She’s in the car. She’s thinking about going to her family’s home.”

“Lynette’s home is here,” Kristen said. She started to get up from the sofa where she was sitting but winced in pain very quickly.

“You should have a doctor look at that,” Patty said.

“Harry took us earlier,” Kristen said. “I’m going to be sore, but there’s no permanent damage. I have some codeine that I can take for the pain. No wine while I’m on medication, and no driving.”

Patty nodded. “Jim insisted, huh?”

“How did you guess?” June asked.

“I know Kristen, and I know Jim.”

“Jim, can you and Patty help me outside?” Kristen asked.

“Sure,” Patty and I answered.

June looked a little left out, but she said nothing.

I got the wheelchair and put one of the pillows on it.

When Kristen was in the chair, I signaled to Patty to push Kristen to the front door.

I saw a look of determination in Kristen’s eyes, and she pushed herself up from the chair, her face registering none of the pain that I know she was feeling.

“Thank heavens for codeine,” Kristen muttered.

Patty signaled to me that I should accompany Kristen. I went over and put my hand around her. I felt part of Kristen’s weight shift to me, but it wasn’t overwhelming.

Together, the two of us walked over to Patty’s car. Lynette was crying in the passenger seat, and didn’t even notice us approaching.

I knocked on the window, startling Lynette.

Lynette saw the two of us outside, and she opened the passenger window.

“I’m so sorry, Kristen!” Lynette cried.

“Stop it, Lynette. I’m not angry at you,” Kristen said.

“I hurt you!”

“I did almost exactly the same thing to you, Lynette,” Kristen said. “I apologized then and you accepted my apology, telling me it was nothing.”

“You looked terrible this morning!”

“And you could barely walk for twenty four hours,” Kristen replied. “I’m walking. It’s not that bad. The bruising just makes it look bad.”

“I’m so terrible,” Lynette said, not wanting to listen to reason.

I sighed. “Lynette, please come upstairs. This is your home.”

“I don’t belong here, I’m a horrible person!”

“If you leave, you’ll really hurt Kristen, and unlike the bruising, that hurt won’t heal.”

Lynette was silent, but showed no sign of wanting to leave Patty’s car.

Kristen moved closer to the car, and then bent down, very slowly, until she was able to plant a kiss on Lynette’s face. “You didn’t do it intentionally,” Kristen said softly.

“I did. I wanted to get even with you…”

“No, Lynette,” I disagreed. “Sure, you wanted to get even, but you never set the pressure before. It was obvious that you didn’t realize what you were doing. You didn’t even put on the hot water!”

“I didn’t?” Lynette asked.

“You could barely reach the knobs,” I said.

“I guess…”

“I know. Please come inside.”

Lynette looked at me, and then for a long time at Kristen.

Finally, the door opened, and Lynette stepped out.

Lynette threw her arms around Kristen and kissed her. “I’m so sorry!”

I saw Kristen wince as Lynette did this, but fortunately, Lynette was crying on Kristen’s shoulder and didn’t see this.

“Come inside,” Kristen urged.

I allowed Lynette to lead Kristen and me to the apartment.

When we got into the entrance, Lynette asked, “What’s all that noise?”

“We’re trying to get a new bedroom down here before tonight,” I answered. “Want to take a look?”

“Separate bedrooms?” Lynette asked, crushed once again.

“Recovery room. For females that find it difficult to walk upstairs.”

“Huh?”

There was a water hose that led from the shower room into a door across the hallway that hadn’t been there the last time I had been in the building.

We all gasped when I opened the door completely. What once was one of the garages was now a bedroom complete with a water bed that was still being filled, four comfortable chairs, a dining room table, and even a miniature refrigerator. There was even a love seat and a padded bench without a back. The floor was newly carpeted with a worker finishing up the tacking, and two walls were bare sheet rock with white patches to cover the nails. There was another worker in the room monitoring the filling of the water bed.

“It’s almost ready,” I said, amazed at the speed that construction happened on Kristen’s property.

“Harry’s pretty effective at things like that,” Kristen observed.

“Wow,” was all Lynette could say.

“Let’s let the workers finish,” I said. I took the padded bench and led the girls across the hall into the music studio.

I put the bench into the studio and instructed the girls to sit. Lynette did immediately, and Kristen was a bit slower due to her injury, but Lynette helped her.

“I was going to save this for the first day of school, but I think we need this right now.”

For the past week, I had been getting up in the middle of the night and would tiptoe downstairs to play in the studio. I already had two of the four tracks recorded, and I was lucky in that the open reel four-track recorder was already cued. I set the two tracks that were recorded to “play” and patched my microphone and electric piano into the two currently blank tracks, setting them to record.

I then turned on the amplifier. I put on the heavy headphones, despite the fact that I had an audience, and plugged them into amplifier as well.

Through experimentation, I found that a fifteen second gap at the start of the recording gave me time between turning on the recorder and getting set up to play. The introduction didn’t require piano, so I would get the beat before I started.

There was an electronic solo from the mini-organ that I already recorded on the tape. When that introduction was over, I started to play the piano and sing:

Do you remember,

When we met?

That’s the day,

I knew you were my pet.

I want to tell you,

Just how much I love you.

Come with me,

My love,

To the sea...

The sea of love!

I want to tell you,

Just how much I love you!

I already recorded a trumpet track, as well as the organ track, and during one of the instrumental breaks, I performed a live duet with my piano and voice. During the break before the final reprise of the chorus, there was a prerecorded trumpet solo. During that solo, I noticed that both Lynette and Kristen had their eyes opened wide. I ignored their responses and considered adding some acoustic piano accompaniment during the solo.

When the song ended, the two stunned blondes were still sitting there with their mouths open. I turned off the open reel recorder. I knew that I made a couple of flubs on the piano track, but I could always re-record that track some other time.

“That’s just you?” Kristen asked.

“Yeah,” I said, sheepishly. “That’s four tracks now. I’m going to need a patch board and a mixer to…”

“You did this here?” Kristen interrupted.

“Um, yeah? What do you think I do in here?” I asked.

“This is what you were showing to Marla?”

“No! I just finished these tracks last night after everybody was asleep. I’ll need to re-record the piano track, but this is the first time I did all four tracks.”

“You did this… by yourself?” Kristen asked again.

“Of course!”

“For me?”

“For you and Lynette,” I said. “I am going to need to figure out how to mix it down to a single track so I could give each of you a personalized cassette.”

“It’s all there on that tape?”

“Of course.”

“And you just recorded the last two tracks?”

“Yes.” I was a bit confused about Kristen’s questions.

Kristen paused for a moment, and then asked, “Can you play it back again?”

I shrugged. I rewound the tape and set all four tracks to play.

After the fifteen second pause, the intro started again.

I wasn’t trying to imitate anybody on this song, so it was my own voice. It sounded quite nasal when it played back, as it usually did, which is why I liked imitating other singers. I would have tried Elvis, but I never liked his version of the song. I was actually a bit embarrassed.

Sure enough, I heard the piano flubs and I winced at each one.

When the song ended, I stopped the recorder again.

I looked at Kristen and Lynette, and both of them had tears in their eyes. I turned to Lynette and made my appeal. “Lynette, please don’t leave us. Kris and I know that you didn’t intend to hurt Kris, and nobody is angry at you.”

Lynette was a basket case. She put her head in her hands and started bawling like a baby.

I moved over to her and held her head. “Please, Lynette…”

Lynette started crying even harder.

Kristen joined me, hugging Lynette from her seat.

“What’s wrong, Lynette?” I asked.

Lynette shook her head.

There was a knock on the studio door. I wondered who would do such a thing when the DND light was on. I left Lynette temporarily to answer the door.

“I’m sorry, Jim,” Patty said, sheepishly. “I need to leave for Roman’s. June is still in the main house.”

“Oh, thank you, Patty.”

Patty saw Lynette completely shattered with Kristen hugging her.

“I know it might be a bad time, but could you walk me to my car?”

I knew Patty well enough that I knew her request wasn’t callous. I simply nodded and left Lynette and Kristen.

“What’s up, Patty? Is June angry?”

“Of course not. I wanted to tell you that Lynette is angry at herself, and the only person that can forgive her is herself.”

“I know that,” I said.

“The best way to allow her to forgive herself is to let her show you how sorry she is. I take it from where you were that you just played the recording you said you were going to make for them.”

I nodded.

“Lynette is feeling very terrible about herself,” Patty said. “You played a special song for Lynette didn’t you?”

“Of course…”

“What you did was wonderful, but it might not have been the right moment for her,” Patty explained.

“She’s crying her heart out right now.”

“She needs a moment alone with Kristen.”

I nodded. “I’ll accept that.”

Patty got into her car, and said, “The only way that Lynette will get over this is to let her prove herself to Kristen.”

“How?”

Patty sighed. “I don’t know, but right now, Lynette is focused on what happened yesterday. She will never get past that until she forgives herself.”

I kissed Patty good-bye, and went back into the garage. I looked in on the new bedroom, and saw that the water bed was now full and the worker was gone. I was about to see if I could move Kristen and Lynette into this room, when another worker came in with rolls of wallpaper and a bucket of paste. I asked to see the pattern, and he showed me. It looked like foil and consisted of gold butterflies. It was quite pretty, and matched the dark brown of the furniture without being too dark. It wasn’t too masculine or feminine, either.

I left the room, and passed a worker who was carrying what I recognized as an intercom panel and other electrical gear. I was about to go back to my studio when I remembered that Patty told me that the two needed to be alone.

I went into the playroom and called to the main house. “I’m in the playroom, and I’d like to play a game of pool. Can you inform June?”

After about thirty seconds, June answered. “Be right there.”

I then hit the studio signal.

I didn’t get an answer, but I didn’t expect an answer immediately.

June arrived in the playroom confused. “You said you were here, but the red light is on in the studio!”

“Kristen and Lynette are in there, talking.”

“Oh,” June said.

The two of us played two games of pool, each winning once.

I was breaking just as the intercom buzzed. “Did you want us?” Kristen asked.

I walked over to the intercom. “I just wanted to let you know that June and I are in the playroom. I saw workers in the new bedroom putting up wallpaper and an intercom system.”

“All right. I just noticed the light flashing.”

“It’s positioned so that I can see it from the keyboards,” I said. “I understand if that wasn’t the most important thing for you guys right now.”

“No problem.”

“I love you, Kris,” I said. Quickly, I added, “I love you too, Lynette.”

“We love you too, Oogie!” Kristen said, and I heard her disconnect.

“When did you signal them?” June asked.

“Right after I called you down here.”

“Now you know how frustrating it is when we’re trying to get a hold of you,” June laughed.

“The light was above and behind them, so I didn’t expect them to answer immediately.”

June looked at me curiously. “For a sixteen year old boy, you show a lot of maturity and patience. I thought you’d be trying to help convince Lynette that Kristen isn’t angry at her.”

“You said that Lynette is the only person angry with her,” I said. “Right now, the two girls have to work it out. Patty said something about Lynette needing to prove her love for Kristen before she will forgive herself.”

“That’s insightful,” June said, sinking a shot and lining up another one.

“Where’d you get that outfit?” I suddenly asked June. I hadn’t seen that outfit before.

“It’s one of Lynette’s,” June said, giggling. She sunk her second shot in a row and added, “For a budding nudist, she has some nice outfits.”

I nodded.

June missed her shot, but the table still had an awful lot of striped balls on it.

I lined up and shot, sinking my ball.

“June? If you did what Lynette did to Kristen, what would it take for you to forgive yourself? How would you prove your love for her?”

June didn’t answer immediately. I sunk two more balls, and then June said, “I don’t know. Cunt Whore would probably have you spank her.”

“A spanking?” I asked, a bit surprised.

The table now had an even number of solids and stripes. I took a difficult shot, and sunk my ball, but used too much energy on the shot, as the cue caromed off a bank and hit the eight ball perfectly enough to sink it in a corner.

“Damn!” I said.

“Two to one, Jim!”

“Yeah,” I said, dejected.

“Rack ‘em up, loser!” June demanded.

I did so.

* * *

“Jim?” It was Kristen’s voice.

“Yes, love?” I answered on the intercom.

“Lynette and I are going upstairs. Can you give me a hand with the stairs?”

“Sure.”

I signaled June to come with me and Lynette and I helped Kristen upstairs.

Once upstairs, Kristen sat on a sofa with one of the down pillows underneath her.

“Jim, could you get me some more of my pills.”

I went into the bathroom where I put Kristen’s prescription. The instructions allowed two pills every four hours. It was just under four hours, so I figured that it would be safe for Kristen to take them. I filled a Dixie cup with water as well and came back to the living room. Lynette still looked bad, but at least she wasn’t crying.

As Kristen took her pills, Lynette said, softly, “I’m sorry for crying before. That song was beautiful. Nobody ever did anything like that for me before.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” I said. “Maybe the timing wasn’t perfect.”

“It was romantic,” Lynette said. “I just don’t think I deserve it.”

“You know that nobody is angry with you but yourself, don’t you?” I asked.

“Patty and Kristen both said something like that.”

“Well, you’re going to worry yourself to death until you show everybody how sorry you are, but the only person you need to convince is yourself.”

“Patty said that, as well.”

“So, what do you want?” I asked. “A spanking?”

Lynette seemed surprised by that. “Huh?”

“I asked June what she’d do if it was her. She said she didn’t know, but Cunt Whore would probably want a spanking.”

Lynette didn’t answer.

“Do you remember when Kristen went overboard with Jackie downstairs? Kristen made it up to you. Why don’t you make it up to her?”

“Um, I can’t… you know, she’s sore down there.”

“For a person as intelligent as you are, Lynette, you are sometimes one dumb bitch!”

Lynette’s, Kristen’s, and June’s eyes all shot wide open as I said that.

Kristen came to Lynette’s side. “Jim, that’s not a nice thing to say.”

I ignored Kristen. “Do you think the only way you can love Kristen is to fondle her cunt or lick her? Aren’t you one of the people that taught me ways of pleasing a woman just by touching her neck, her ears, her breasts, even the insides of her knees? How about sucking on her toes? Did you forget everything you’ve ever taught me, Lynette? Do you need to take Lesbian 101 over again, because apparently you seem to have forgotten everything!”

“Jim!” Kristen yelled, sounding extremely shocked. “Don’t talk to Lynette like that!”

“I will, damn it!” I said, angry for some reason that I couldn’t fathom at the time. “A person as intelligent as she is, as fun to be around as she is, and as much in love with you as she is should be able to figure out how to say ‘I love you’ without saying a single fucking word to you!”

Lynette’s mouth was open in shock. The other girls seemed to be shocked as well.

“Do you want me to spell it out for you? Take Kristen into the master bedroom, do your damned best to make her forget that she’s hurting physically and make her fucking remember that you love her more than just about any other person on this fucking planet! June and I will make you two dinner, and we’ll leave it in the room for you when it’s ready. I don’t want to see either of you until tomorrow morning.”

Lynette simply stared at me, her eyes burning holes into my body.

“Jim!” Kristen said.

“Kris,” I answered. “You’ve talked with her, and she’s still angry with herself. Well, I’m angry now. Not for what she did to you, but for what she did to me. Everybody in this room knows that Lynette just gave me the lamest excuse in the fucking world. If she really believes that she can’t make it up to you, then she’s probably right and she should leave. She’s not the one who I thought loved you. I know it will break your heart, Kris, but there’s no hope for her if she pretends to think that she cannot love you.”

I turned to Lynette. “You have a choice. Love her or leave her. Make up your mind. Now!”

Lynette looked quite stunned. She turned uncertainly to Kristen, whose eyes were tearing up. Lynette then looked at me, and I know that she saw absolutely nothing but anger in my eyes.

Finally, Lynette got up and slowly walked over to where I was standing next to Kristen’s sofa. She drew her breath, and in a move that surprised only me, she slapped me hard in the face.

Without uttering a word, Lynette turned to Kristen, and offered her hand, and helped her walk to the master bedroom.

Before she closed the door, Lynette turned around and said, “I am quite capable of cooking dinner for Kristen. I don’t give a fuck what you and June do tonight.”

“I love you, Lynette,” I said, but she shut the door—loudly—before I finished the sentence.

“Well, Mr. Asshole managed to get Lynette and Kristen back together,” I said.

“Mr. Asshole may have lost Lynette forever, though,” June said.

“June, I love Kristen with my entire being. Lynette loves her almost the exact same way. What is between Lynette and me is closer to how I feel about you.”

“I know that Lynette’s totally pissed off at you.”

I sighed. “Do you really think I’m an asshole?”

“No, Jim,” June said, moving over to me and kissing me. “Somebody needed to shake some sense into Lynette. I just think you shook too hard.”

I sighed. If I didn’t feel so strongly about Lynette, then why the fuck was I crying like a baby?

“Jim?” June asked.

“What?” I sniffed.

“Can you play Mr. Bojangles for me again?”

I sighed as I led June downstairs.

“I think the ‘Lesbian 101’ remark was why she slapped you,” June told me in the stairway. “That was particularly callous and uncaring, but I know why you said it. I felt like slapping you after you said that, too. Calling her a stupid bitch didn’t help one bit, either.”

“I’ve found that I get pretty eloquent when I feel a strong need to say something, but I may have just been lucky up until now. I didn’t think before I said that. I’m not sorry for yelling at Lynette, although I think I could have found a better way of saying what I did.”

June simply nodded.

Before getting to the studio, June looked in on the new bedroom. The wallpaper was already up and the room looked finished.

“Too bad Kristen won’t be using this tonight,” June said.

“Let’s inaugurate this room tonight,” I said.

June looked at me for a few moments before answering. “Maybe.”

I wondered about that pause and that answer.

“I’m sorry about that lesbian remark, June,” I said. “I still don’t know how I should have put it.”

June’s body relaxed. I hadn’t realized that she had been so tense up until that moment. “Thank you for apologizing, Jim,” June said, softly. “I’d love to sleep with you tonight.”

I noticed that the tape was no longer rewound, and figured that Kristen played the tape once again. I rewound the tape, took it off the recorder and put it into its cardboard box. Before I threw the tape in a drawer that had lots of other similar tapes, I took a pen and labeled the box “Random Shit.”

I put a blank tape into the recorder, and told June that I was going to record this particular session.

“You can’t talk, since I’m going to be recording two tracks. Acoustic piano on one mike, and my voice on the other. All right?”

“Uh, huh.”

“I… um… need a few minutes to calm down.”

“It’s all right,” June said, soothingly. “May I sit on your lap?”

Having June sit on my lap would definitely make me feel much better.

June started to get undressed as I set up the two microphones.

I knew that this was going to be only a test recording. There was no way that I’d be able to separate the two microphone tracks, since my voice and the piano would really be on both. I decided that I’d need to find somebody with more experience with recording to help me find things such as directional microphones and other things that I found that I lacked knowledge about.

I counted fifteen seconds and started the intro for Mr. Bojangles for June.

Unfortunately, my voice cracked during the first line, and I stopped. I ended up crying on June’s shoulder.

“There, there, Oogie,” June said, quietly.

June moved me off the piano bench onto the bench from the new bedroom. She hugged me to her naked body, and kept on saying, “There, there, Oogie.”

“I’m sorry June,” I said. “I’m a fucking asshole. Lynette hates me, and rightfully so. I wouldn’t blame Kristen if she hated me. You even got angry about that remark!”

“I forgave you when you apologized,” June soothed.

“Without Kristen… without Lynette… I’m without… They’re my life!”

“Come on Jim, they’ll forgive you.”

I would not be consoled. “No they won’t!”

June continued to soothe me, and I just started to mumble incoherently into June’s shoulder.

It took about ten minutes for me to regain my composure.

“Maybe Bojangles wasn’t the right song, Oogie,” June said, softly.

“It’s never happened before.”

“What never happened?”

“I never felt so bad that I couldn’t play,” I said. “Usually playing helps me get out my frustration.”

June didn’t seem to comprehend.

“I couldn’t play the song!”

“You’ve played it before,” June soothed, walking up to me. “You say playing gets out your frustration. You’re not frustrated, Jim.”

“No,” I admitted. “I’m heartbroken.”

“Maybe music isn’t the right thing. How about pool?”

“I’m not in the mood to concentrate.”

“How about the pool in the main house?”

Actually, that sounded better. “Um…”

June didn’t wait for any more of that answer. She moved over to the intercom and called the main house.

Harry answered. “Yes?”

“It’s June,” June said. “Is the Solarium free?”

“Yes, June.”

“Would it be all right if Oogie and I come over?”

“Certainly.”

June left the studio and went into the shower to get a couple of robes. She put one on and then led me out of the apartment building. She remembered something, and left me in the driveway and ran back into the apartment building. After about two minutes, she came running back with a pair of sandals. She put them on as she came outside.

I watched June put on her sandals, and then she led me over to the main house.

Harry met us at the door.

“Hi, Jim, June. How’s Kristen?”

“Kris and Lynette are making up,” June said. She started pushing past Harry, who realized that we weren’t up for idle chit-chat. He let us in and we went into the Solarium, where June led me to one of the changing rooms.

“Let’s soak in the hot tub, Jim,” June said.

“I guess.”

June rolled her eyes, and then undressed me and escorted me into the hot tub.

The two of us sat in the hot tub for an hour. I don’t think either one of us said much.

“Feeling better?” June finally asked.

“I’m a real shit.”

“Lynette will forgive you.”

“You told me that I might have lost her forever.”

“That’s before you apologized for the remark. You knew what you said was wrong. Lynette will know that.”

“I guess.”

June pulled me out of the hot tub, and I followed her. I didn’t expect her to push me into the deep end of the swimming pool, though.

“Hey!” I shouted when I came up for air.

“That’s the first new emotion you’ve shown in the last hour,” June said. “I’m insulted! You’re in a hot tub with a hot babe like me, and you’re mooning about Lynette!”

“OK, OK,” I said, finally. I started to climb up the ladder. “Give me a hug?” I asked.

June smiled. “Of course… HEY!”

June’s surprise was that as she came over to hug me, I pulled her into the pool with me.

“That’s for pushing me in, June,” I said. “But I think I needed that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!”

* * *

June and I slept in the new bedroom. We didn’t do anything other than cuddle.

I woke up as June was getting out of the bed the next morning. June woke up early because she needed to do some stuff with her mother.

I kissed her and pulled on my robe, and walked her to her car. I watched as June drove away.

As soon as June left, my thoughts returned to Lynette and that heartless name I called her.

There were no clothes in the downstairs bedroom, and all my clothes were in the master bedroom. I did have a change of underwear and a pair of sandals in the communal shower, so I took a lonely shower there, toweled off, and then got dressed in one of the robes in the shower.

I made my way upstairs, and saw the master bedroom door was closed.

Sighing, I went downstairs and started working on the “sucker shot” that Camille taught me.

It took nearly an hour and a half, but I finally figured out the correct combination of where to hit the ball and where to send it into the cushion to make the shot. With another ten minutes’ effort, I sunk twelve in a row.

I looked up at the time, and it was almost eight thirty.

I walked back upstairs and when I entered the apartment, I saw Kristen and Lynette sitting at the dining room table totally nude and eating blueberry pancakes.

I sighed. I had hoped that the girls wouldn’t be up. I wanted to figure out a way to say “I’m sorry,” but I was so worried about feeling bad for what I did, that I hadn’t come up with any ideas on what to actually say.

“Hello. It’s Mr. Asshole,” I said. “May I come in?”

Lynette looked at Kristen, who nodded.

Lynette then ran over to me and hugged me. “Jim! I forgive you!”

“Um… I’m… what?” I said, totally confused.

“That girl must love you as much as I love Kris,” Lynette said.

“Huh?” This wasn’t making any sense to me. I hadn’t even started my apology.

“June left us a note.”

“June?”

“Yeah. She told us to go downstairs to the studio and play the tape there.”

“What tape?”

“The one you made last night.”

“What tape?” I repeated. “I didn’t make any tape!”

Lynette looked at me strangely. “You made a tape last night. You played the piano, and when you started to sing, you stopped after a couple of words, and then you started crying. Don’t you remember?”

“The tape was running?” I asked, incredulously. Oh, shit! I had been set up to record that as a test session with June!

“June must have stopped it,” Lynette said. “Kris and I went downstairs, and Kris showed me how to rewind and play it.”

I shook my head and took a deep breath. “Lynette, I’m sorry for that lesbian remark and for calling you a bitch. It was stupid and callous. I was trying to say something, but I was angry, and I had no right to…”

“Shut up, Jim!” Lynette said, moving her mouth over mine and kissing me.

I allowed Lynette to kiss me, and when she pulled away, I started talking again. This time, I kept her away with my arms. “As I was saying, I had no right to call you that. I knew that you were hurting, but I wanted to… maybe shock you into realizing how much the two of you love one another.”

Lynette nodded.

I turned to my Goddess. “Kris, I’m also sorry to you for that remark. It was stupid, and I let my mouth run off without my brain being in gear.”

Kristen said, “I wasn’t angry with you, Jim.”

“Are you done?” Lynette asked.

“Um… I guess so.”

“Want some pancakes? There’s more batter in the kitchen.”

I went to the kitchen, but Kristen grabbed me before I could enter it. “You sit here, Jim,” Kristen said. “Too many people have been saying ‘I’m sorry.’ Let’s just love one another for a day or so. All right?”

I looked at my lovely Goddess, and then over to Lynette. “I’d appreciate that very much.”

Chapter 32—Parental Advice

If only I could find a way,

To feel your sweetness through the day.

The love that shines around me could be mine.

So give us an answer, won’t you?

We know what we have to do,

There must be a thousand voices

Trying... to get through.

Supertramp

Lord, Is it Mine?

June’s note, which had been to Kristen and Lynette, also said that she’d be over the next morning to pick me up, and we’d be able to pick up Merry for the initiation on Saturday.

I knew that I’d miss not having June around that day, but in reality, I was very happy that I’d be able to spend some quality time alone with Lynette and Kristen. I had a lot of making up to do with Lynette, who I had blown up at the previous night.

Kristen started to undress me after Lynette went into the kitchen to cook my pancakes. In the meantime, Kristen sat on my lap and fed me from her own plate.

“Is this June’s recipe?” I called out to Lynette.

“Yeah,” Lynette replied, “it’s her mother’s. You seemed to like them when June made them.”

“They’re great!” I said before Kristen shoveled another forkful into my mouth.

I found Lynette’s fork and I used it to feed Kristen while she was feeding me. Of course, the entire process of feeding each other just made for a mess, but we were enjoying ourselves.

When Lynette came out of the kitchen with my plate, she noticed that both Kristen and I had purple stains on our faces from the blueberries and whipped cream in quite a lot of places that indicated that our aim wasn’t always intentionally correct.

Lynette giggled as she saw the two of us, and went back into the kitchen. When she returned, she was carrying a plastic tablecloth for the table. She unfolded the tablecloth and placed it on the living room floor.

Next, Lynette came over to where Kristen and I were still feeding each other, and simply picked Kristen up from my lap. She carried my blonde Goddess over to the outstretched tablecloth and placed her in the middle.

“Stay there,” Lynette told Kristen.

Lynette crooked her finger to me, indicating that I was to get up, and at the same time, she picked up the plate she just took out of the kitchen. Without warning, Lynette dumped the pancakes onto Kristen’s belly.

“Ow!” Kristen yelled as the warm pancakes hit her body.

“There,” Lynette said, satisfied. “You want a mess? Let’s eat breakfast off Kristen!”

Despite Kristen’s initial cry of surprise, apparently the pancakes weren’t too hot for her skin.

I laughed, and got myself a fork and a butter knife and squatted next to Kristen. I tenderly cut a piece of a pancake and fed it to Kristen.

“Hmm,” Kristen said, enjoying her bite.

I wasn’t prepared when Lynette came over to the other side of Kristen and started pouring the expensive blueberry syrup generously over Kristen’s body, hitting her breasts, her legs, her face, and a little on the actual pancakes. She put the syrup back on the dining room table and then went back to where Kristen was and started smearing the syrup all over her body, before starting to lick it off lightly from Kristen’s nearest breast.

I got the idea, and joined Lynette on the other breast.

Kristen moaned occasionally, enjoying Lynette and I double teaming her on her breasts.

I got another great idea, and hopped off Kristen and ran into the kitchen, returning with the whipped cream canister. I told Kristen to open her mouth, and I sprayed some of the foamy substance into her mouth. I then stuck my tongue into her mouth as the two of us wrestled our tongues together, trying to get as much of the whipped cream into our own mouths and stealing it from the other’s.

Once the cream was melted to nothingness, I got the canister again and once again squirted some into Kristen’s mouth. This time, however, instead of sticking my tongue into Kristen’s mouth, I fed her my cock.

“Hmm,” Kristen moaned, and I saw her lips smile around my shaft. The texture inside Kristen’s mouth was quite unique, being much squishier and a bit cooler than usual. I started to move my dick in and out, and saw the cream sticking on my shaft.

I looked back at Lynette, and saw that she took one of the pancakes and used it to “paint” Kristen with the syrup, so that her skin was a light purple from the tops of her legs to her breasts.

Kristen started actively sucking me, and I started to come. I sent the first spurt into Kristen’s mouth, and then pulled out and sent the remainder over Kristen’s purple body.

Lynette giggled at what I did, and took the whipped cream can and added a spurt of whipped cream here and there to finish her masterpiece.

I looked at Lynette, and without saying a word, the two of us each took possession of one of Kristen’s legs. We started at her toes, and tried to suck them clean, ignoring Kristen’s squirming responses.

The two of us worked our way slowly up Kristen’s legs, pausing at various erogenous zones for extra attention.

When I got to Kristen’s crotch, I couldn’t notice the bruising, mostly because it was camouflaged by the extra blueberry syrup that Lynette deposited there. I gave Kristen a very light lick there, and I heard a soft groan as my tongue hit a tender spot. I tried elsewhere, and found that Kristen’s erect clit wasn’t tender, and my Goddess seemed to enjoy my tongue there.

I pulled my head up and whispered to Lynette, “Kris’s clit isn’t hurt.”

“I know,” Lynette whispered back. “I found that out last night.”

“Oh.”

Lynette and I moved toward Kristen’s pubic hair, and as we licked, our tongues would occasionally intertwine. After the first time this happened, Lynette and I made it a point to lick at each other as we continued licking the syrup and whipped cream from Kristen.

I came upon one of my own spurts just below Kristen’s belly button, and I licked it up. I then moved over to Kristen and stuck my tongue into her mouth, allowing her to savor my semen.

Lynette saw what I did, and stared at the two of us. After a moment, she smiled. Thereafter, whenever either of us would come across any of the semen that I shot on Kristen’s body, we’d lick it up and feed it to Kristen while deeply kissing her.

There was a spurt of mine that seemed to reach between both of Kristen’s breasts. Lynette and I scooped up what we could together, and then, grinning at one another, we both deposited the (admittedly mostly dry) semen together, both of our tongues squirming in Kristen’s mouth. Kristen’s tongue moved from mine to Lynette’s and back. It was a tight fit, and it may have been uncomfortable to Kristen, but there weren’t any complaints.

For the coup de grace, once Kristen was relatively clean, Lynette pulled me so that I was kneeling at Kristen’s head. Kristen tried to move her head up to lick my cock, but Lynette kept moving her head down.

Instead, Lynette moved down, and started sucking my dick, very slowly, right over Kristen’s mouth.

Kristen’s eyes were wide, and her attention was riveted on my cock moving slowly in and out of Lynette’s mouth. With all the stimulation that I received licking the syrup, whipped cream, semen, and bits of pancake from Kristen’s body, I once again erupted into Lynette’s sucking mouth.

When I was spent, I pulled away, expecting Lynette and Kristen to share a deep kiss.

Instead, Lynette kept her face hovering about six inches over Kristen’s mouth, and then she opened her lips and allowed my semen to fall out of them, down into Kristen’s mouth.

The scene was quite erotic to me; I knew that I and others shared semen with Kristen in the past, but this was the first time that there was a visual factor to add to my knowledge.

After Lynette’s mouth was empty, she moved down and kissed Kristen deeply.

The three of us lay on the tablecloth, pretty much beat.

“We’re a mess,” Kristen noticed.

“There’s a shower downstairs,” I pointed out.

“NO NOZZLES TODAY!” Kristen said.

We all laughed, and Lynette and I helped Kristen down the stairs.

* * *

Let me tell you. Kristen and Lynette are quite capable of making a guy feel forgiven, and I did my best to make them feel loved. After coming twice at breakfast, all I did was rub and fondle the two girls. Lynette didn’t mind me rubbing between her legs, but Kristen was still quite sore, and since Lynette mapped out where Kristen could and could not be touched the night before, I let her focus between Kristen’s legs while I focused on her breasts, face, and upper torso.

It took us about an hour and a half before we decided we were clean.

Lynette and Kristen thought that June’s idea the night before of using the swimming pool and hot tub was a great one, and we relaxed in the Solarium in the main house for the rest of the morning and well into the afternoon.

At one point, we were in the hot tub. I noticed that Kristen wasn’t sitting on her “special jet” (most likely due to her injury), but we were all very close together in the tub.

I sighed. “I’m glad making up is so much fun with you guys.”

“Kristen was right,” Lynette pointed out. “We’ve been apologizing too much recently.”

“Yeah,” Kristen added. “I hurt your feelings with Jackie.”

“I hurt you with the nozzle,” Lynette continued.

“And I hurt both of you with my unthinking words,” I added. “I think this whole love thing is new to all of us. It takes some people years to just figure out one on one. I think our problems are doubled.”

“Try multiplied by four,” Lynette said.

“Huh?”

“Kristen and me, Kristen and you, you and me, and the three of us together.”

“Wow!” Kristen exclaimed. “I never thought about it that way. We’re still finding bumps in the road over just the person to person things.”

“We do the three of us together bit pretty well, though,” Lynette smiled. “Breakfast was tasty, if a bit messy this morning.”

The three of us laughed, but I could tell that we were all thinking about what Lynette said about the difficulties inherent in a three way relationship.

* * *

The three of us were swimming in the big pool when Harry’s voice came over the intercom.

“Kristen?”

“Yeah, Harry?” Kristen answered.

“Both your parents are home, and your father has asked if you wanted to grill bratwursts for a family dinner.”

“On the porch?” Kristen asked.

“Yes, Kris.”

“Are they coming into the Solarium now?”

“I think they were trying to get your feelings on that.”

Kristen looked at me and then Lynette. Lynette didn’t seem too eager, and I can only imagine what my expression showed.

“Tell them to give us five minutes, Harry,” Kristen answered.

“Very well, Kristen.”

Kristen muscled her way out of the swimming pool with her strong arms, and then limped into the changing room. When she came out, she had three terry cloth robes. We put them on and sat down at one of the round tables that had four patio chairs.

A few minutes later, Daniel and Charley Swift arrived. They wore identical terry robes, although theirs were light blue instead of the white ones that the three of us were wearing.

“Hello, kids!” Charley said, warmly.

“Hi, Mom!” Kristen said, smiling. “Hi, Dad!”

“I heard you got hurt the other day,” Charley said.

“Just a minor bruise, Mom,” Kristen explained. “Jim and Harry insisted that I go to the doctor’s.”

Charley smiled and nodded. “It was a good idea. Harry said you were given a prescription.”

“Codeine.”

“Still taking it?”

“Not since last night.”

Charley nodded again and looked at Lynette and me. “And how are the two of you?”

“Feeling great,” I said.

Lynette simply nodded.

“Daniel and I wanted to take a swim,” Charley said. “I hope you young people don’t mind.”

“House rules?” Kristen asked.

“Of course,” Charley said, a gleam in her eye. She looked at me, as I had my mouth wide open and she added, “Oh, my. I think I may have scandalized the great and awesome Oogie!”

Kristen giggled.

I looked at Kristen, confused. Kristen shrugged.

Charley looked at Daniel, who shrugged also.

“Do you think you kids invented relationships?” Charley asked.

My breathing stopped. I wasn’t sure I wanted to have this discussion with Kristen’s parents. I looked at Kristen to see if she could head this off, but she looked confused as well.

“No, Mrs. Swift,” I decided to answer. “It’s enough work for us just to try to perfect ours.”

Charley and Daniel stared at me for about a minute before Charley burst out laughing. “Jim! That’s the last thing that I expected to hear from any of you!”

I realized that Charley and Daniel knew the extent of the relationship that the three of us shared. There was no use hiding anything now. “What did you expect me to say, Charley?”

Lynette never heard me call Kristen’s mother by her given name except for when I announced her at Kristen’s birthday party. She still looked uncomfortable, despite the fact that I seemed to gain a rapport with Kristen’s mom.

Kristen, on the other hand, looked a bit more relieved, since she noticed that there was no admonition or recrimination from her parents.

Charley shrugged off her robe and walked into the swimming pool. Charley looked good; if I didn’t know that she was Kristen’s mother, she could easily have passed for a college student.

I tried not to stare at Charley, but I’m a male, and I think there’s a law of nature that says that males have to stare unless they are blind. I think even a confirmed homosexual male will even stare at a nude female as lovely as Kristen’s mother.

Charley’s hair was blonder than Kristen’s—almost white. Her breasts were a bit larger than Kristen’s, and sagged just a little. I couldn’t see an ounce of excess fat or flab on her lovely body. I only saw her dark patch of pubic hair for a moment, since I was staring at her breasts at the point when I could have gotten my best look at her more intimate area. Charley’s breasts were similar to Kristen’s in that her nipples were only a shade darker than the dark aureolae that surrounded them.

The thought that kept on going through my head was, “This may be how Kristen will look in twenty years. Wow!”

I heard some water move, and noticed that Daniel entered the pool after Charley did. I hadn’t been watching him at all, for obvious reasons.

Of the three of us younger people, Kristen was the only one that didn’t seem embarrassed. In retrospect, this should have been obvious to us, as she probably swam in this pool with her parents many times before.

Kristen shrugged and slowly got up off her chair. “Want to join them?”

I didn’t have anything to lose. For all I know, every time I had been with Kristen in this house was heard by security over the intercom, and they may even have taped it to play it back for Kristen’s parents. Swimming with their daughter was about the least I had to be nervous about, except the fact that I’d be disrobing in front of Kristen’s parents.

Lynette, on the other hand, seemed stunned and didn’t seem to know what to do.

I whispered to my Goddess. “Kris? I need to talk with Lynette, and we’d both appreciate it if you distract your parents for a few minutes.”

Kristen kissed me, and then threw off her robe and walked slowly over to the deep end and dove in, swimming to her parents. Both Charley and Daniel looked concerned at Kristen’s noticeable limp.

While Kristen received the undivided attention of her parents, I started whispering to Lynette. “Lynette, Kristen’s parents already know about us. They are inviting us in. What are your options?”

“I don’t know,” Lynette whispered back.

“Well, if you don’t come in, they will find it hard to talk with us in the future. I think they want to break the ice with us.”

Lynette didn’t answer me, but thought to herself for a few moments.

“You’re right, Oogie. Besides, I don’t have anything that they haven’t already seen on Kristen, right?”

“Right!” I agreed.

Lynette kissed my cheek, and then got up, peeled off her robe, and then walked into the deep end.

I was happy. I thought Lynette would freeze on me. I’m glad she got the nerve to…

Oh, shit. Guess who was left?

I looked at the pool, and Kristen and Lynette were together in the deep end while Daniel and Charley were in the middle. Neither couple made any overt movements toward the other. Occasionally, every one would take a glance at me.

The problem was, I had (and still have) a horrible self image. I knew that I wasn’t a jock, and I didn’t have the muscles that Archy or any of the other athletic students had. If I was naked, I’d be a scrawny and pasty looking nerd.

I took a few deep breaths, and tried to think of something that would take my mind off my nervousness.

Naturally, I thought of June.

Great. Now I was a scrawny and pasty looking nerd with an erection.

Why did I think of June? I usually don’t have a defeatist attitude. I thought about cuddling June, kissing her…

No! This wasn’t working! What else was it about June that made me think of her?

There was June’s mother, but she wasn’t helpful in this situation. Who else? Archy?

Archy! It hit me! June told me that my cock was almost exactly the same size as Archy’s, except that his was a bit thicker than mine. I saw other guys at the Villa, and aside from Archy, all of them were a bit smaller.

Be proud, boy! If Charley or even Daniel were going to size me up, I didn’t have anything to be ashamed of in that department. If they were so shallow as to only consider that as a measure of a man, then I’d still measure up!

I took a deep breath, and slowly took off my robe. I was still a bit hard after thinking of June, but I was no longer ashamed. There were three naked women in the pool right now… I needed no coaxing to be erect!

I slowly walked into the shallow end of the pool, walking down the steps until I was in the water.

The water wasn’t too cold, as I already was accustomed to it from my swimming in it before.

Kristen swam over to me and whispered, “I didn’t expect you to strut!”

“Your parents are making a big deal that nudity isn’t something to be ashamed about. It took me a few moments to realize that.”

Kristen reached up and kissed me, removing any softness that might have been in my cock.

“I love you, Goddess,” I said.

“I love you, Jim.”

“Let’s rescue Lynette,” I suggested.

“Good idea.”

* * *

It didn’t take Lynette long before she realized the game that Kristen’s parents were playing. They wanted us to feel comfortable around them, and didn’t want us to be sneaking around, trying to hide our relationship from them.

Once we all realized that fact, the five of us had a great time. We even spent time in the hot tub, Daniel and Charley sitting together, and me sitting in the middle of a Kristen and Lynette sandwich.

I saw Daniel and Charley cuddle together without any inhibitions, and I did the same with Kristen and Lynette. After a while, though, I switched positions so that Kristen was between Lynette and me. This was much better, since it allowed Lynette and Kristen to cuddle together along with Kristen and me.

“Would you three like to have dinner with Charley and me?” Daniel asked.

Kristen looked at Lynette and me and saw our affirmative reactions. “Sure, Daddy.”

“What do you think about bratwursts?”

I knew for certain that Lynette didn’t like those. “Do you have Italian sausages also?” I asked. “Lynette prefers those.”

“I think we do, Jim,” Daniel said with a smile.

We all got dressed once again in our robes and soon, the five of us were making dinner. Daniel and I cooked the brats and the Italian sausages, Lynette and Kristen made cole slaw and a garden salad, and Charley made a mildly alcoholic punch.

As we put things to the table, I saw Kristen pour a glass half full of ginger ale before she ladled some punch into it. She put that at my place setting. I appreciated her thoughtfulness.

Kristen knew about my real father’s alcoholism, and while I sometimes took a sip of wine or champagne every now and then, I found that alcohol didn’t do anything for me. I also once admitted to Kristen that I once heard that alcoholism can run in families, and if that were true in my case, I didn’t want to become the embodiment of the one man that I truly hated in my life. It was for that reason that I appreciated Kristen’s diluting my drink with ginger ale. It showed that she was thinking about me.

The meal was wonderful. Simple food eaten family style. It was one of the few family moments that I spent with the Swifts since I moved in with Kristen at the apartment. Kristen’s parents urged Lynette to call them by their first names, and by the time the meal was over, I noticed that Lynette seemed much less nervous than she had been when Kristen’s parents first entered the Solarium.

After dinner, we all shucked our robes and returned to the hot tub. I noticed Charley hugging Daniel, and I smiled, and put my arms around Lynette and Kristen, since both girls on either side of me.

“What are your plans for college, Jim?” Charley asked me.

I shrugged. “I have another year to think about it. My music teacher suggested Berklee in Boston.”

“The music school?”

“Yeah. Kris said something about wanting to get her MBA at Harvard, and Berklee wouldn’t be too far away.”

“So you think that you’ll be a musician.”

I laughed. “I know. Musician is another word for broke. However, I love music. I like playing, I like arranging, and I like conducting. I honestly can’t see me doing finance for a living like Daniel.”

Charley nodded. “I loved music, too. I still do. I left that scene after Daniel proposed to me, and it may have been a good thing. I saw my girlfriend Honey get sucked into the music industry. They offered her a record contract and she made some records, but despite the fact that her records sold a bit, she ended up poorer than if she just continued performing at weddings and night clubs.”

“I’m not sure that people would want to listen to records that I make…”

“Stop that!” Kristen chided me, gently.

“Sorry, Kris,” I said, giving her a peck on the cheek to emphasize my words. I turned my attention back to Charley and said, “I prefer to live for the performance. Kris set up a music studio at our apartment, and it’s fun to be able to accompany yourself, but my favorite recordings are the ones I made during Kristen’s birthday party and the rehearsals for it. I might be good on trumpet and piano, but those recordings have great people playing all the parts together.”

“What kind of music will you play, son?” Daniel asked.

“My own,” I answered. “Some rock and roll, some jazz. I like the old big bands, but I also like contemporary bands such as Chicago and Blood, Sweat, and Tears. I don’t want to get too technical like those disco orchestras, but I love listening to Barry White.”

“Barry White?” Daniel asked.

Lynette, Kristen, and I laughed together.

“I can imitate a lot of voices,” I laughed, “but not his. He’s a deep bass. Did you ever hear a song called, ’You’re The First, The Last, My Everything?’”

“I think I heard the words before,” Charley said, smiling at her husband.

“Anyway, I would say that my voice isn’t as good as Barry’s, but Kristen would punch me. I think that with Kristen, I could make an outstanding jazz and rock band.”

“Me?” Kristen asked.

“I’ve heard you singing when you thought you were alone,” I said. “I know you can play jazz on both the acoustic and electric keyboards. Charley told me that you used to have a guitar and taught your brother to play. Your life may not be as focused as mine on music, but you definitely have talent.”

“I don’t sing!”

“I’ve heard you,” I said. “I think that with a bit of training, you could have as great a voice as your mother.”

Charley and Daniel burst out laughing. I sent them a look that would freeze the water in the hot tub.

“Jim,” Charley said, continuing to laugh, “we’re not laughing at Kristen’s ability. You just didn’t know, but Kris was given vocal training when she was younger!”

“Mom!”

“Hush, Kris,” Charley said as she turned to me. “She took lessons for a couple of years, and she’s a very talented singer. She stopped because she told me that she wanted to live her own life and didn’t want to relive mine.”

“Mom!”

Daniel added, “Kristen plays classical music wonderfully. Charley taught her bass guitar, but Kris picked up lead guitar on her own after listening to some records of—what’s his name? The Spanish guy with the guitar? José something? Anyway, she picked up guitar on her own, and as Charley said, she taught Will to play. When Will tried to put together a band a couple of years ago, he asked Kris sing and play a couple of songs.”

“Daddy!”

I could tell that Kristen was getting agitated about this. I figured that I could talk to her parents at a later time about Kristen’s musical upbringing.

“You asked me what I want to do for college, Mrs. Swift,” I said, taking the spotlight off my blonde Goddess. “I want to put together a band, and I want great people in it. I want to be a band that people will want to travel to see. We’ll play rock, jazz, blues, some classics and some stuff that we write ourselves.”

“Where will you play?” Daniel asked.

“I’d start at an established night spot until we make a name for ourselves. After that, we can consider our options.”

“You seem to have it figured out.”

Lynette said, “Jim is already looking into Puppy Dawg’s.”

“In town?” Daniel asked.

“Yes,” Lynette said. “He talked with my old friend Gerry, whose band is mostly disbanded, and they’re trying to set up an audition.”

“Where did you hear that?” I asked Lynette.

“Gerry and I used to date. We’re still good friends and we talk.”

“I know the owner of Puppy Dawg’s,” Daniel said.

“Please, Mr. Swift,” I begged, “don’t talk to him. I want to succeed or fail on my own merits.”

Daniel nodded. “I wasn’t going to talk with him, but I was going to point out that your age might be a stumbling block. They serve alcohol there.”

“I’m not going to drink there, Daniel,” I said. “I’m just going to be a performer, part of a group, like you say Kristen was when Will was part of a group.”

Daniel was quiet for a moment and said, “If you call yourselves ‘Oogie Woogie and the Impromptu Jazz Band,’ then it will be you signing the papers. You’re still underage.”

I shrugged. “Lynette is eighteen. She can be our manager.”

Lynette and Kristen gasped at that statement. Daniel and Charley chuckled at their reaction.

Daniel said, “I thought the two of you would be used to Jim’s way of thinking by now.”

Kristen asked, “Huh?”

Daniel said, “Did you ever notice that he doesn’t bother thinking about roadblocks? When he comes to one, he simply moves around it. If somebody tells him about a problem in advance, he already has the answer worked out, but even if he doesn’t know about it in advance, he comes up with a quick solution.”

Lynette and Kristen were staring at me.

Daniel continued. “If I had a man with his talent for spotting solutions as quickly as Jim, I’d start him out at a hundred thousand and put him in charge of all my other employees. Too bad high finance isn’t Jim’s forté.”

Both girls at my side didn’t say anything, but Charley chuckled. “That’s why we love him, dear.”

* * *

The three of us declined an invitation to the steam room, and walked back to the apartment together.

“Your parents seem pretty at ease with our living situation,” Lynette said.

Kristen shrugged. “Mom and Dad told Will the whole story, and he told it to me. Mom was living with Aunt Honey when she met Dad. The three of them lived together in a similar relationship to ours until Dad proposed. Aunt Honey wanted to pursue a solo career anyway, so they broke it off amicably, but Mom knows what it’s like to live the way we do.”

“Aunt Honey?” I asked.

“I haven’t heard from her or about her in years,” Kristen said with a shrug. Her eyes moved down. “I sometimes miss her. She was always fun to be around.”

“Do you mean to say that your mom and your aunt were…”

“When Will told Mom about his lifestyle, she explained about hers, and how she understood. You don’t know how relieved Will was when he found out that Mom and Dad were very understanding. You’ll find my parents won’t be too judgmental.”

Lynette turned to me. “What’s this about me being a manager of a rock band?”

“I proposed it as a solution. I’d ask you first before I made any commitments.”

“Why would I be the manager, and not Kristen?”

“Kristen has enough to worry about with her money and everything. Without meaning anything bad about Kristen, you’re more thoughtful about others, and of all the people that I know, either you or Patty would be the perfect person to manage a band.”

“But I know nothing about managing a band!”

“You’re the one in college,” I said. “You now have an entire semester to plan. You said you were friends with Gerry, so you can talk to him since he’s played before. Find out what he would like to see in a manager.”

“You’re serious!” Lynette said.

“Welcome to the club, Lynette,” Kristen said with a smirk.

The girls headed upstairs, but I redirected them into the playroom.

“Rack ‘em up, Lynette. Kristen’s breaking.”

“It won’t be a fair game,” Lynette warned.

“I have a new game. Break and Come.”

“Huh?” Kristen asked.

“Lynette racks the balls,” I explained. “One of us shoots. The number of balls sunk on the break is the number of orgasms that person will get tonight. Sink the eight ball, and you’ll get the magic fifteen!”

“You want me to break for orgasms?” Kristen said.

“All of us, one break each.”

“You’re a silly and romantic man!”

Kristen was first, and she sunk two balls.

I racked them up for Lynette and she took her shot. Nothing sunk. Kristen and I agreed to give her another shot and she sank a solid ball.

Lynette racked them up for me.

I remembered a trick that Camille showed me that I practiced a lot. Despite the fact that my odds were about four in ten for this particular shot, in nearly every case, I always sunk at least one ball.

I moved the cue to the side on the diamond, a little bit away from the cushion to be able to put some English on the ball. I hit the cue ball low and to the right of the center with as much force as I could while still maintaining control over my destination.

The cue ball hit between the second and third balls in the rack, and almost immediately, a ball went straight to the corner on the side where I started the cue ball. The rest of the balls started to move, and a second ball sank. I was watching one ball in particular and saw it heading straight for the side pocket.

“He sunk the eight ball!” Lynette yelled.

I snickered. As I said, I was usually less than fifty percent on this shot, but sometimes it played out. Even without the eight ball, three other balls were sunk by that shot.

“Where did you learn that trick?” Lynette asked me.

Before I could answer, Kristen answered, “Camille.”

I nodded at Kristen.

“Do you think you have fifteen orgasms within you?” Kristen asked menacingly.

“Nope,” I admitted. “I’ll take two, and give six of mine to you, and the other seven to Lynette. That makes it eight for each of you, and two for little ole me.”

The two girls decided that since I was the big winner of the break, I should be the first to experience an orgasm. We went to the “recovery room” to enjoy our prizes.

Lynette started fondling my cock until it was hard. Kristen and Lynette took their places on either side of me, and each started licking my shaft.

This was one of my favorite activities, and despite the fact that I slept with more than one woman constantly, it didn’t happen very often. For some reason, Lynette, Kristen, and even June considered oral sex a private one on one experience. To tell you the truth, I usually felt the same way, but having Lynette and Kristen do it together to me that night felt special.

The two girls took turns taking me into my mouth for a couple of strokes, while the other one would continue licking my shaft, my balls, and occasionally kissing each other.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have the best view of this action, so I compensated by simply closing my eyes and just focusing on the sensations.

After a bit, it got to the point where I couldn’t tell which girl was actively sucking me. It wasn’t as if the two girls had similar techniques, but what they were doing was out of the ordinary for either of them.

Feeling the two of them working on me made me feel like a king. I reveled in the sensations and realized that the girls weren’t trying very hard for me to achieve my release. I laid back, thinking about how lucky I was to have two wonderful women willing to please me.

It occurred to me that I could have any number of women willing to please me if I used my lucky tickets. This was a strange thought; I hadn’t even thought about them in the last few weeks. It was true, though. I could have every cheerleader in the school working on my dick at once, if such a thing was even possible.

I realized that Merry was going to be a cheerleader. With a ticket, I could make her mine, devoting her body and her entire being to providing me comfort. I could find the girls that I thought were too big for their britches and fuck them in the ass dry in front of all their friends.

Suddenly, I wondered where were these thoughts coming from? I was out of the revenge business, but here I was, actually fantasizing about doing it again with a vengeance. Had I learned nothing?

Why was I even fantasizing about anybody else when Lynette and Kristen were right here in bed with me, doing their damnedest to make this the longest blow job of my life?

My eyes shot open as I realized that Camille’s warnings were true. Just as I got the urge to make Camille my slave that day at Lake Shore Point, those tickets were still trying to get control of my life!

I must have been breathing very hard, because Kristen left her spot near my dick and moved over to me and kissed me warmly. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.

“I’m not sure,” I said.

“I’ll chase those ghosts away,” Kristen murmured, and she kissed me again, this time for a longer period of time.

Lynette was sucking me now, my dick about halfway in her mouth. Like Kristen, Lynette knew how to go deep, but she once confided to me that she didn’t enjoy it. For that reason, she was taking me just to the point where I would reach her throat. Even so, Lynette was talented enough to know how to use her lips and tongue, and with the added stimulation of Kristen kissing me, I realized that my arousal was reaching its limit.

Kristen must have sensed my feelings, as she stopped kissing me and took over for Lynette. Lynette, for her part, took over where Kristen left off and started kissing me. I soon felt myself pouring my essence into Kristen’s sucking mouth.

I was happy that Kristen was able to get her “fix” from me, and Lynette seemed in no hurry to stop kissing me. This was fine with me, and I continued kissing her.

Unfortunately, for some reason, as I was kissing Lynette, I fell fast asleep.

I didn’t realize that I fell asleep until I woke up in the middle of the night. I turned around and saw Kristen and Lynette in a tight hug, their steady breathing indicating that they were asleep. I felt terrible about falling asleep while we were making love—and it wasn’t the first time for me! Quietly, I moved until I was spooned behind Kristen. I felt Kristen’s ass wiggle against me in her sleep, and I fell asleep once again, hugging my lovely blonde Goddess.

Chapter 33—Double Initiation

Who knows how long this will last,

Now we’ve come so far, so fast?

But, somewhere back there in the dust,

That same small town in each of us.

I need to remember this,

So baby give me just one kiss.

And let me take a long last look,

Before we say good bye.

Just lay your head back on the ground,

And let your hair fall all around me.

Offer up your best defense,

But this is the end,

This is the end of the innocence.

Don Henley

The End of the Innocence

The next day, June picked me up from the apartment and drove me to my house at 11:45.

Merry was impatiently waiting for me in front of the house.

“You’re late!” Merry demanded.

“Kristen got hurt a couple of days ago,” I said. “I wanted to make sure she was all right before I left, Shortcake.”

“Kristen’s hurt?” Merry said, suddenly finding a new perspective.

“She was in a wheelchair the other day,” June said.

“Not Kristen!” Merry said. Suddenly, our being late wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“Nothing is broken,” June said. “No bones, anyway,” she added quickly.

“We took her to the doctor’s the other day. She was on pain pills and Lynette is taking care of her now,” I added.

“How did she get hurt?” Merry asked.

“Accident in the shower,” I answered with a straight face.

Both June and I practiced not smirking or otherwise giving away the true nature of Kristen’s injuries. If Kristen wanted to tell Merry, I figured, then it would be her own decision.

Merry looked from June to me and then back to June.

“If you want to get to school, Shortcake…”

Merry realized that time was going short. “Oh, yeah!”

“Tell Mom and your dad good-bye, Merry.”

Merry raced into the house and was out about ten seconds later. I think this was a local record for good-byes.

Despite Merry’s worries, June got us to the high school on time.

The ceremony started out similar to the one I experienced with Sherry—I needed to undress Merry.

I figured that this was an easy thing for me to do, but I was wrong. Although Sherry was infatuated with me, I didn’t really love her in return when I was part of her initiation. She was a just friend—a recent friend!—but I really didn’t have a relationship with her.

I had relationships with some women. There was Kristen, of course, who was still recuperating at our apartment. Then there was Lynette, who found a love in me that I never knew existed. June, who allowed me to visit the dark side of both of our personalities, was another. Of course, there was also my mother, who was probably the one female that most influenced my life.

Then there was Merry. That cute, sweet, innocent girl that I manipulated into the cheerleading squad in high school… the one that I still sort of thought of as a perpetual adolescent… the one that I fell in love with.

I never fell out of love with Merry. I mean, I knew that she grew, but I cast her as the “Fisherman” in the Spring Concert as if she were still the pre-teenager that she was the first time I met her.

It seems that I fell into a trap that many older brothers fall into when it comes to kid sisters. There’s an image of them at a certain age that is forever burned into their minds, and no matter how many years pass afterward, that image is still what comes up when the word “sister” is mentioned.

Back in the present, I was now required to undress Merry.

It wasn’t that I didn’t know how to do this. I’ve undressed many females in the past year. Nevertheless, there was a nervousness that I normally didn’t have with any of my friends.

I knew this was all a trick of the mind. I forced myself to think of Merry as the person who experienced the communal shower at our apartment, the place the cheerleaders dubbed The Den of Iniquity.

Unbuttoning Merry’s blouse, I felt her shiver, and I knew that Merry had as much difficulty and possible embarrassment with this as I did.

Actually, that made me feel a little better. We were both sharing the same feeling. It was as if the bond that we shared between us was getting stronger.

I steeled myself and forced myself to do the job. Suddenly, my fingers found themselves more sure of themselves, ignoring our nervousness. In fact, as I continued, I noticed Merry looking up at me in admiration.

When Merry was totally nude, I looked for Merry’s sponsor, June. I didn’t have any uniform for Merry to change into. June stepped into another aisle when there was a minor crisis with another couple, leaving the two of us alone.

“You are very pretty,” I told my sister.

Merry blushed, but didn’t answer. I also noticed that she didn’t try to hide anything from me.

I tried not to stare.

I loved my sister, but I found it difficult to see her as a sexual creature. I wondered if I was doing my sister a disservice thinking this way.

“Might as well sit down, sis,” I said.

“Does it always smell this bad in here?” Merry asked.

“The locker room? Of course. Why?”

“The girls’ locker room is much nicer.”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever compared the two,” I said.

Merry laughed. “You are probably the one guy who could walk in without causing a scene. Sherry told me that all the girls in the school have a crush on you.”

“I doubt that every girl does.”

“When you got here, Jim, every girl’s eyes were on you, including the ones with boyfriends. They weren’t looking at Jackie, June, or me, but you.”

“I think you’re biased in favor of your big brother.” I laughed.

“Every girl,” Merry insisted. “I saw them. For a moment, I hated every one of them, but I eventually realized that they liked the same guy I did.”

I sighed. “I’m not that special, Shortcake.”

“Do you know you say that a lot, Jim?” June asked.

I was startled. I didn’t know that June returned. “Where’s Merry’s clothes?”

“Oh!” June said, surprised. “I’m sorry! I was carrying them before. Let me find them.” June left quickly.

I certainly hoped that this wasn’t supposed to be a trick on Merry. I’d have a problem with that!

A short bit later, June came back with a uniform. “I’m sorry, Merry. I had this in my hand when I went to check out a problem.”

“No problem, June,” Merry said. “Thank you.”

“Time is running out,” June warned.

Thanks to Sherry’s initiation last year, I had experience with cheerleader’s outfits before. I managed to quickly get Merry dressed, to her surprise. June led Merry and me out of the locker room and into the gymnasium. On our way out, every aisle that I passed had boyfriends either kissing the girls they were changing, or fondling them. Few guys were actually putting clothes on the girls. I remembered June and Lynette telling me that I was one of the few boys that didn’t take advantage of their girlfriends, and I wondered why the other boys found it necessary to take such liberties with their girlfriends.

When we entered the gymnasium, Merry was the second of the six incoming cheerleaders there.

Jackie smiled at the two of us, and Merry reddened in embarrassment.

Jackie went over to me and said, “June said something about Kristen being hurt. Is it serious?”

“It looked serious,” I admitted. “The doctor just gave her some pain pills and advised her to keep off her feet.”

“Then why are you here?” Jackie smirked.

“Because I love my sister, and because your former cheerleader captain is quite capable of keeping Kris company.”

Jackie smiled. “You really are something.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I just hang out with the right people.”

* * *

A lot of the ceremony was similar to the one that I was at with Sherry Jordan last November. There was the ceremonial “boys dressing the girls” that we just finished, and then the “stern warning” to the girls that came out late. Jackie seemed to use the same words that Lynette used the last time.

One thing that was different was the kissing ceremony after each of the girls was officially welcomed into the squad. Each kiss I got was either on my cheek or very brief. Unlike the last initiation I attended, none of the cheerleaders tried to lick my tonsils. I was quite surprised by this, actually. Even June’s kiss was noticeable by its lack of heat. The only girls that seemed to try anything with me were the new initiates, although Merry was a bit hesitant with me.

On the other hand, the other boyfriends were orally attacked by the entire squad. Since Merry was the second one welcomed, she also kissed deeply, although her kisses weren’t quite as long as some of the other girls.

I smiled, watching the other boys get all the attention. I actually enjoyed this. I think that a few of the other boys gave me looks of nervousness when they first saw me, and I knew that most of them knew me at least by reputation. With the stories being told about me ever since the Senior Weekend last year, I guess I couldn’t blame them for being afraid that I’d attract the majority of the cheerleaders’ attention.

It took about a half hour for all six of the incoming cheerleaders to be welcomed properly.

Jackie made an announcement. “Cheerleaders, it’s now time for a vote. We need to vote on the best kisser. I’m going to hold up each guy’s hand, and if that guy was the best kisser, then vote for him.”

I was the first guy that Jackie selected. She raised my hand, and only one person voted for me: Merry. I smiled at my sister. “One vote, and I think she’s biased!”

Jackie held up each boy’s hand, and the winner was a senior named Jackson.

“It looks as if our winner is Jackson, Mary Jo’s guest. Maria, please bring Jackson to the winner’s room.”

Maria Wilson, the co-captain of the cheerleaders this year, walked out of the gymnasium with Jackson.

Jackie looked over to me and shook her head. “Jim, I had high hopes for you, but you only managed to get one vote, and it doesn’t count, since it was from your own sister!”

I shrugged my shoulders. This actually hadn’t bothered me. I hadn’t ever received any complaints from Kristen, Lynette, June, or Patty when I kissed them, so the opinions of a bunch of other girls—even though June was among them—didn’t really matter to me.

Jackie saw my reaction, and was a bit surprised. She turned to Sherry Jordan and said, “Sherry, please lead Jim to the loser’s room.”

Sherry came over and took my hand. She led me through the main door that led into the gymnasium into the mail hallway in the school.

“Don’t worry about anything, Jim,” Sherry whispered to me once we were out of the gymnasium. “The cheerleaders always pick a favorite, and he’s usually shunned at the public kissing.”

“Favorite?” I asked, softly. “I thought that was Jackson.”

Sherry shrugged. “He kisses all right, actually. His prize will be more kisses.”

“How about the others?” I asked.

“Silly games in the gymnasium meant to cover the fact that you and Jackson are gone.”

“And me?”

“You’ll find out,” Sherry whispered, leading me toward a familiar hallway.

Miraculously, the music room door was open. I wondered how the cheerleaders managed this feat. This room was locked constantly due to the fact that there were a lot of expensive instruments within it.

“Do you always use the music room?” I asked Sherry.

Sherry shook her head. “June suggested that this room might be more appropriate for you.”

“How did you get the key?” I asked.

“Cheerleaders’ secret,” Sherry answered mysteriously.

Inside the music room, Sherry looked at me expectantly. “The game is that you will be visited by each returning cheerleader, and the first one will be June, who will explain the rest of the game to you. I will be last.”

Sherry went up on her tiptoes and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I need to get back now. June will be your first visitor. She’ll explain the game to you when she gets in.”

Sherry left me alone in the music room.

The music room was far enough away from the gymnasium that I really felt alone. I stood in the room for a couple of minutes, watching the clock on the wall. Nothing was happening.

Bored, I entered a practice room, turning on the light and leaving the door open. Playing the piano could always make the time go faster for me.

I started playing the piano part of John Lennon’s Imagine, but just thought the vocals in my head. It was a classic Lennon tune, surprisingly simple and nothing short of lovely.

Thinking about simple and lovely Lennon songs, I remembered a song that was on the Plastic Ono Band album. It was even more simple than Imagine and was called, simply, Love:

Love is real, real is love.

Love is feeling, feeling love.

Love is wanting, to be loved.

The lyrics were deceptively trite, but the song was haunting in its beauty.

“I never heard that song before,” June said, standing at the entrance to the practice room. “I take it from the way you’re singing it that it’s a Beatles song, but I don’t recall ever hearing that one before.”

“It’s from John’s primal scream album,” I explained. “The one nobody likes to hear, where he screams, ‘I don’t believe in Beatles!’”

June shook her head. Apparently, she wasn’t as familiar with Lennon’s solo works as I was. Heck, I had that album, Live Peace in Toronto and even Wedding Album. My mother prevented me from getting the Two Virgins album, but I listened to it played in its entirety on the radio one midnight and realized that there wasn’t very much stuff on that album that I’d care to perform myself. Lennon could be an acquired taste when he was at his most experimental.

“You were picked as the cheerleaders’ favorite,” June said with a giggle. “I’d like to make a request of you.”

“What?”

“The game we play with the favorite is ‘Seven minutes of heaven,’” June explained. “I’ve heard that it sometimes gets out of hand. You are allowed to ask any cheerleader to undress as much as you want, within the limitations of seven minutes. If you make that request, you must get just as naked. Jackie’s original suggestion was to bring you into the girls’ locker room and take each cheerleader in the shower. Then I got an idea to let you do what you do best. Play.”

“You mean, the way we did here the time you spent two periods in this room naked?”

“You don’t have to make them sit on your lap. Do you think you could come up with a special song for each of the cheerleaders?”

“How many are there?”

“Eighteen,” June said. “I know it’s a lot.”

I multiplied eighteen by approximately five minutes per song. It came just under two hours. “No. I refuse.”

“What?” June asked, taken aback.

“I won’t do it. I’ve done that with you, Marla, and Patty. It was special each time. If I do it today, it will be cheap. I refuse to go along with it!”

June looked almost as if I punched her.

Of course, my heart went out to her as soon as I said that. I wondered, idly, if any male could ever be mad at June.

“June,” I said, softly. “I’ll play a song for each of the cheerleaders, if they want me to. I just don’t want them naked and sitting on my lap!”

“Oh,” June said, suddenly understanding me. “I told you before, you can have anybody undress. It’s not mandatory, although I don’t think I can remember anybody refusing to have any cheerleader get at least partially undressed.”

“Good,” I said, smiling. “I prefer to be the exception!”

June laughed at me, shaking her head. “Not even me?”

“June, I will take you, naked, in the apartment, in the shower, on the pool table, and even in your own bedroom at your house with your mother watching. I don’t want you to undress with me just because you’re a cheerleader. OK?”

June smiled at me even as she shook her head in disbelief. “Will you play Bojangles for me, Oogie?”

“Of course. You can even sit on my lap.”

“Can I take my bottoms off?”

“Nope.”

“Meanie!” June said, giggling.

I played the song for June, who kissed me deeply when the song was finished. It was a much better performance than a couple of nights previous when I couldn’t even manage to sing at all.

There was a knock on the outer door to the music room, and June giggled. “I’ll be right out,” June yelled.

June kissed me again, not seeming to worry about whoever was waiting at the door.

After we broke the kiss, I think there was a confused look on my face. “Got to keep up appearances, Jim,” June explained. “People are expecting me to need to get dressed, so I took the opportunity to sneak another kiss at you!”

I laughed and kissed June on the nose as I accompanied her to the door. As I opened the door, Maria Wilson was on waiting patiently.

“Come on in, Maria,” I said, smiling.

June waved at me as I led Maria into the room.

“What do you want me to do?” Maria asked once the door was shut.

“What’s your favorite song?” I asked, ignoring Maria’s question.

“Stairway to Heaven,” Maria answered, confused.

Shit. That song never sounded good on piano. I think that was a problem with most Zeppelin songs. “Any others?”

“Best of my Love?” Maria asked.

“Eagles,” I said. “I think I can manage that.”

I led Maria into the practice room. I closed my eyes, trying to think of the first chord. I then played a C chord for two bars, followed by a D-minor, and figured the progression.

About halfway through the song, Maria interrupted me.

“Excuse me, Jim?”

“Yes?”

“Didn’t June explain the rules to you?”

I nodded.

“You’re just going to play?” Maria asked.

“It’s what I do best.”

Maria stared at me and then broke out in giggles. “I’m sorry for interrupting. That was really beautiful!”

I giggled to myself, and then finished the last verse.

Maria kissed me warmly after I finished, not trying to make it too sexy. “You’re amazing,” she sighed after she broke the kiss.

On cue, there was a knock on the door. “What took June so long when I knocked? Did you make her undress?”

I shook my head. “She just wanted to make a show of it,” I said. “She was just kissing me, making you think she was getting dressed.”

“Kristen’s lucky to have a guy like you.”

“I think I’m the lucky one.”

Maria and I went to the door and let the next cheerleader in.

It ended up taking nearly two hours for me to entertain the cheerleaders. A lot of requests were for Stairway, and a couple of songs I didn’t actually know (or didn’t know the words).

One cheerleader made an interesting request. “Can you play that song that Amy Grant played at the Christmas Concert? The Peanuts thing?”

I smiled and played Linus and Lucy for her.

I lost count of how many cheerleaders I entertained when Sherry Jordan made her appearance.

“OK, Jim,” Sherry said, ignoring the outgoing cheerleader. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“All the girls that come out of this room are whispering about you. What are you having them do?”

“Nothing,” I answered, honestly.

“Huh?”

“June Rodgers told me the rules, and since I’m in charge, I decided to just ask each girl for her favorite song, and I’d play it for them.”

“Uh huh,” Sherry said, waiting to hear what else I was making the girls do.

“That’s it,” I finally said.

“Huh?”

“What’s your favorite song?” I asked.

“On the radio, or song that you play?” Sherry answered, very leery.

“Either.”

“I like the way you play Honky Cat,” Sherry said.

I led Sherry into the practice room and sat her down on one of the chairs that Maria helped me move into the room. I took my place at the bench and started to play.

Like Maria, Sherry interrupted me while I was playing the bridge.

“This is all you’re doing with all the cheerleaders?” Sherry asked.

“Of course.”

“You didn’t ask any of them to get undressed?”

“Of course I didn’t!”

“Not even June?”

“Not even June,” I assured Sherry.

“But you and she… I mean…” Sherry was at a loss for words.

I sighed. “Sherry, I told you before, I’m in love with Kristen. She’s my future. June has Tiny Jonas, you know that.”

Sherry shook her head. “People say—even June said—that you took her virginity in front of Tiny!”

“Do you think that Tiny would stand by and let that happen?” I asked.

“Well, no. That’s what makes everything so confusing! I tried to kiss you last year… and you turned me down. Then I hear that Camille was living with you, and then Lynette and June…”

“Sherry,” I said softly.

“What?”

I could see the start of tears in Sherry’s eyes. She was definitely confused.

“Do you really think that I’d take June’s virginity?”

“It was so unlike you.”

“Well, I haven’t. Not once, not ever.”

“You mean…”

“June was just telling a story,” I said. “I told her how I hate people telling stories about how great I am and how wonderful I am. June decided to start a story that made me sound as if I was a scoundrel.”

“It’s all an act?” Sherry asked.

“Of course,” I said. “I mean, we play around, but it’s all with Kristen’s consent. If she ever decides that she doesn’t like it, I’d never touch June again. Kristen hasn’t done that. She lets me have fun and play around, but we really love one another.”

“How about Lynette?”

“Lynette is a different story,” I admitted.

“She’s your slave, just like June?”

I shook my head. “No. Neither one of them are slaves. That was a game we played at one time, but we stopped doing that a while ago.”

“I heard that Lynette and Kristen…”

“I won’t confirm anything about the two of them. If you want to know the truth about them, you will need to ask them yourself.”

“So, the cheerleaders were whispering about you… OH FUCK!”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“They have a new Oogie Story!”

I sighed. I hated those two words with a passion.

Sherry saw my frown. “What’s the matter?”

“I told June last year… well, it was just a few months ago, but it was last school year… I hate hearing about those so-called Oogie Stories. Hearing them makes me go nuts!”

Sherry looked a me for a long moment, and finally sighed. “I used to be jealous of Kristen, you know.”

“I know.”

“I tried to trap you last year,” Sherry said. “Do you know that?”

I just nodded.

“Instead of being mad at me, you went out of your way to become my friend,” Sherry continued. “You got me on the squad…”

“You got yourself on the squad, Sherry,” I insisted. “Lynette wouldn’t lower her standards even to do Camille a favor.”

“I know that now,” Sherry said, “but you and Camille made me consider the squad, and then, it was as if everywhere I went, you and Kristen were there. You went to my first game, and you even took me to that ice cream place after the game.”

“Sherry, it wasn’t just me,” I said. “You helped Kristen and me heal a big rift that came up between us. If you hadn’t given her that note, we might not be together right now. Maybe I helped you get onto the squad, but you helped us in return.”

“I was just trying to say that I’m no longer jealous of Kristen,” Sherry said. “I mean, there’s a part of me that would like to be with you, but I’ve seen Kristen’s puppy dog look when you’re around. I don’t think I’ve ever been that way about you. It’s as if she needs to be around you all the time.”

Sherry’s observation was getting a little too close for comfort. “Well…”

“Patty once told me that Kristen and you have a magical bond together. She said that she was actually sort of dating you before you and Kristen were going together, and when she saw how Kristen felt, she introduced the two of you.”

“Well, I was seeing Patty…”

“Patty told me that you helped her get over a big crisis in her life, and she decided to thank you however she could. When she saw how Kristen felt about you, she willingly gave you up. It took me some time, but I finally figured out how she felt. I did the same thing: I saw the note you wrote Kristen, and I knew that if I gave it to her, I’d never have another chance at you again. I remember that as if it was yesterday. Nobody could talk to either of you, and even Patty was getting frustrated. Finally, I handed Kris the note, and she read it and started crying. Then she turned to me and kissed me on the lips!”

“She did?” I hadn’t heard that part of the story.

“She did! I knew right then and there that I made the right decision. Just like Patty, I could have had you, but when I realized how much Kristen loved you, I knew that what she felt was more than I ever felt about anybody. I was jealous, but no longer about you. I want to feel that way about somebody one day.”

“Some day, Sherry, you’ll find the right guy for you.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“What?”

“Last February, you and Kristen took Camille to Boston.”

“Valentine’s day.”

“Yeah. Anyway, it was snowing that day, and I got a ride with Lynette to the school where the two of us practiced our flips on the mats in the gym. We were working as each other’s spotters. Afterward, Lynette told me how lonely she was with Camille gone. She felt that Camille was starting to get very close with Kristen…”

“Will,” I corrected Sherry.

“Huh?”

“Camille has it bad for Kristen’s brother,” I said. “Didn’t you see them at Kristen’s birthday party?”

“Oh, yeah. He lives in Boston, doesn’t he?”

“Cambridge,” I said. “Pretty close, actually.”

“Lynette used to sleep with Camille, you know.”

“I know.”

“They were more than friends. Lynette told me that they were sort of lovers. Both of them would sleep with any of the guys on the teams, although Lynette was never as wild as Camille. With Camille not around, Lynette was kind of lonely, and told me that she had a crush on Kristen.”

“Lynette told you that?” I asked, surprised.

Sherry nodded. “Camille told her that she didn’t think that Kristen was into girls. I told Lynette that I understood, and how I felt about you. We became very good friends after that. I think she appreciates the amount of work I put into the cheerleaders, and she tried for the longest time to get me to become the captain this year.”

“Lynette told me that,” I said.

“I’m not the same as Lynette or Camille,” Sherry said. “I mean, maybe I have a lot in common with Lynette, but Camille really frustrated Lynette.”

“Really?”

“Camille always called herself a slut, and she acted that way as well. She never got too close to anybody, except she was a bit closer to Lynette, and her best friend, Patty. I’ve seen her with you as well, but nobody could ever figure that out. After Kristen’s birthday party, however, Camille seemed more focused on Kristen… and I guess her brother.”

“Camille is always a difficult person to understand,” I agreed.

“I heard that Lynette is living with you and Kristen now. I mean, I’m glad for her if she finally got to be with Kristen.”

It was definitely time to change the subject. This was getting too personal, and I didn’t know how much of what went on between Kristen and Lynette that the girls wanted to be known by others. “Lynette said something about maybe wanting to help you guys out on Thursdays.”

“The cheerleaders?” Sherry asked.

“Yeah. Her college schedule gives her those afternoons off, at least for the first semester. I figured that I’d arrange to have jazz band around the same time and let Lynette drive me home.”

“Lynette would be a wonderful help!” Sherry agreed. “I sort of miss her.”

“Pay us a visit sometime, Sherry.”

Sherry giggled. “To the Den of Iniquity? Do you think I’m that kind of girl?”

I looked Sherry right in the eye. “I’ve already told you that June made up that stuff about me being a scoundrel. If you don’t trust me…”

Sherry hit me playfully. “Oh, Jim,” she said, sounding exasperated. “I trust you! I was just making a joke!”

“I’m glad you trust me.” I smiled at Sherry. Not for the first time, I noticed how pretty she was. She was more my age than Kristen or Lynette, and I had found out how she had carried a torch for me all through junior high school. I felt bad that I never noticed that.

With Sherry, I wouldn’t even need to use a ticket for me to have my way with her…

My breath caught as I realized what I was thinking. Sherry looked a bit startled at that and looked at me curiously.

Fortunately, there was a gentle knocking at the band door. I looked up at the clock and noticed that Sherry and I talked for close to a half hour.

I left Sherry in the practice room and opened up the door to the band room. It was June.

“What’s up, June?”

“You’ve already cost me twenty dollars, Jim.”

“Huh?”

“Lynette bet me twenty dollars that you’d be the one guy to refuse to undress any of the girls except your sister.”

“You were a sucker for taking that bet!”

“Did you and Sherry…?”

I shook my head, and nodded toward the practice room where Sherry was still sitting, completely dressed.

“I was knocking for about ten minutes,” June said. “I heard the two of you talking in there, but couldn’t hear what you were saying. I figured the two of you had a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah.”

“Jackie and Maria need you to come back to the gym.”

“All right, let me get Sherry…”

“I have something I want to discuss with Sherry, Jim. It’s… um… private.”

“All right,” I said. I went back to the practice room anyway to give Sherry a good-bye kiss.

“June says that I’m wanted in the gym.”

Sherry nodded and got up from her chair. “I’m glad we took the time to talk.”

“So am I, Sherry.”

The two of us kissed briefly, mainly because June was around.

“June said she has something to discuss with you.”

Sherry nodded.

I left the music room and walked to the gym. Jackie and Maria were in the center on the floor and the cheerleaders were milling about. Merry grinned at me. Everybody noticed as I walked in.

“How did it go?” Jackie asked.

I shrugged. There weren’t any of the boyfriends around, nor were any of the new cheerleaders around either, with one noticeable exception.

Jackie saw me looking around. “With the exception of Merry, all the new initiates have left.”

“Oh?”

There was a noise behind me, and I saw Sherry and June enter the same door that I just came in. There was something different about them that I couldn’t put my finger on. I stared, but couldn’t identify what it was that seemed slightly wrong.

There was some titters from the cheerleaders. I turned and Merry’s eyes were open wide. She was staring at the two cheerleaders behind me.

I stopped and turned around again, and the two girls were very close to me. They approached me from either side and kissed me on each cheek at the same time.

The tittering got louder.

Sherry and June smiled at me and went to join their friends.

I stood there, not knowing what was going on. I watched the two cheerleaders walk away from me.

That was when I noticed June. She always had a cute wiggle as she walked, but when she wanted to impress somebody—usually me—she exaggerated it a little. I now noticed that Sherry was doing it as well.

On one swish of June’s bottom, the hem of her skirt rose, and I finally realized what was wrong. Normally, I’d see their yellow pants under their skirts. June, apparently, wasn’t wearing hers, or anything else underneath that skirt.

I looked at Sherry and noticed now that she was also bottomless. That was what the girls noticed!

Sherry and June went over to Jackie and Maria and June said, “Jim was pretty good today!”

June turned toward me and winked. She was determined to spread false rumors about me, and it seemed as if Sherry was her willing accomplice.

There wasn’t much happening afterward. Some of the cheerleaders talked with Sherry and June, and neither one said anything that would actually be a lie. They did say that I spent a lot of “extra time” with Sherry, and although they implied that I had her undress, they never actually said anything of the kind.

When most of the girls left, June looked down and said, “Oops! I think I must have left something somewhere!”

Sherry grinned. “Me, too!”

Merry looked from June to Sherry, disbelief in her eyes.

Sherry said, “I’ll get them!” and ran out of the gym. As she did so, her skirt flew up behind her, leaving no doubt that there was bare skin beneath her skirt.

“Do you think that Kristen would mind if I brought Sherry over?” June asked me.

I shrugged. “Kris told Sherry that she’s invited anytime.”

“Good,” June said. “Kris told me to invite Merry, and Sherry makes it four.”

“I’m going over to the apartment?” Merry asked.

I nodded. “I told Mom that you were going there, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

Sherry came back with two pairs of bottoms and panties in her hands. She handed one pair to June. I couldn’t believe that the two girls had the audacity to put them on in front of me!

Chapter 34—Serenading

Look what they’ve done to my brain, ma!

Look what they’ve done to my brain!

Well, they picked it like a chicken bone,

And I think I’m half insane, ma.

Look what they’ve done to my song.

Melanie

What Have They Done To My Song?

It turned out that Sherry had her mother’s car—she got her driver’s license a few weeks earlier. Merry agreed to go with Sherry before I could offer any objection. The two girls hopped into the car and took off to the Swift residence.

June noticed me looking after them. “What’s wrong, Jim?”

“Sherry just got her license. Do you think Merry will be safe?”

“Sherry passed her driver’s test, Jim,” June said, shaking her head at me. “She’s proven that she’s capable. I doubt that the state of Illinois will give a license to a dangerous driver.”

Of course, June’s impeccable logic only made me worry even more. After all, this very state gave a license to my father. My father loved to drive, even after consuming enough alcoholic beverages that he would be asked to leave the premises that he consumed them in. Of course, he would insist on driving home. My mother and I were occupants with him on too many of those occasions.

However, I didn’t think equating Sherry with my father would be fair. I actually liked Sherry, after all.

* * *

June and I arrived at my apartment a few minutes after Sherry and Merry safely arrived.

I heard some guitar music with a lovely voice singing as I came upstairs. It took me a moment or two to recognize the singer as Kristen, singing a version of Proud Mary, totally unlike any that I’ve heard before.

“What’s wrong, Jim?” June asked, as she noticed me stop on the stairs.

“That’s Kristen singing,” I said.

“Really?” June asked. She looked at me. “That doesn’t sound like her voice.”

“You haven’t heard her sing when she thinks she’s alone.”

Apparently, Kristen didn’t adapt her voice to make herself sound like the original performer, as I tended to do. That was something that my friend Roy taught me a few years prior. When I was learning to sing, I admitted to Roy that I hated hearing my own voice when I played it back on tape. His suggestion was for me to try to imitate other singers. It took some work, but Roy and I both shared a love of music that made the effort worthwhile. Soon, we were imitating each other as well, which is why our voices sounded so nice together when we sang duets.

Anyway, I continued to stand in the stairway as Kristen finished her song.

“That’s beautiful,” I heard my sister tell Kristen. “I always thought that Ike and Tina Turner’s version was sexy, but I think I like your version better.”

I instinctively grinned at Merry’s remark. I’ve lived for a number of years listening to my sister compliment my music ability. I was glad that Merry was willing to do the same to my Goddess.

“Here’s one that I’ve been working on,” Kristen said.

I heard a delicate acoustic guitar intro. I closed my eyes, trying to place the chord sequence.

It didn’t take very long. She started hitting the chords more forcefully, and then I heard Kristen sing:

When the truth is found to be lies,

And all the joys within you dies...

Don’t you want somebody to love?

Don’t you need somebody to love?

Wouldn’t you love somebody to love?

You better find somebody to love!

I was floored. Aside from the fact that she was playing an acoustic guitar, Kristen was able to perform that number that would rival Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane. The effect was very ethereal.

“Kris is very talented,” June whispered to me. “She and you would be a killer…”

I noticed June had stopped talking. I turned to my friend, and saw that she was just shaking her head.

“Why don’t the two of you play together?” June asked. “I mean, she was there in the jazz band at school, but the two of you as a singing duo would be wonderful!”

Actually, I was thinking the same thing. I remembered that the Swifts had told me that Kristen had formal voice lessons and could play the guitar. I was just curious as to why Kristen would perform for others, and she had never offered to do so for me.

“What’s wrong, Jim?” June asked, noticing that my face must have registered some of the emotions that I was feeling.

“Nothing,” I lied.

June wasn’t convinced, but she had the sense not to push too far.

After Kristen finished Somebody To Love, the others in the room were complimenting her again.

I started walking up the stairs again.

June was a bit surprised that I started going up, but she caught up quickly.

When June and I entered the apartment, everybody’s attention turned to me and June.

I noticed that Kristen’s guitar was against the love seat where Kristen was sitting.

Nobody mentioned Kristen’s singing and playing when I arrived.

I had no idea what to make of this.

“Jim! June! Come on in! We’ve been waiting for you two!”

Kristen gave me a big kiss, and then gave one to June. Merry decided to get in on the action, and gave me a kiss on the cheek, and did the same to June. Lynette, not wanting to be left out, kissed the two of us as well.

“Is that your guitar, Kris?” I asked, indicating the instrument leaning against the love seat.

“I was picking at it before,” Kristen said. “Lynette wanted to hear me play.”

I waited a couple of seconds, but Kristen didn’t add anything else. She didn’t offer to play for me, I noticed once again.

June probably knew what was going on in my mind. Even so, she said, “Ooh, can I hear you play a song?”

Kristen blushed, and said, “Maybe later.”

I felt hurt that Kristen didn’t seem to want to play in front of me. Why was that? She never had any problem playing piano at the school, although I now recalled that she only started playing to help Amy.

Lynette changed the subject and she, Merry, June, and Sherry started talking about cheerleading.

I sat down on “my” recliner and pretended to listen to the girls talk. In my mind, however, I was brooding over Kristen’s actions.

* * *

Later on, we all went downstairs to the play room and Kristen started up a game of pool. Lynette and I teamed up against Sherry and Kristen, and I only took a half-hearted shot at a stripe and missed.

After Kristen and Sherry won, Merry and June were up. I excused myself and went into my studio.

Why wouldn’t Kristen play for me? She didn’t seem to have any problems playing for anybody else—even my sister!

I looked at my electric piano, and started doodling on it. After a couple of minutes, I was startled when I heard Lynette’s voice behind me.

“What’s got you upset, Oogie?”

“Nothing,” I lied. I continued playing what I had started before… a doodle that consisted of my left hand playing a D-minor and G-major back-and-forth progression, with some improvisations with my right hand.

Lynette noted, “That sounds a bit familiar. What is it?”

I started thinking about the chord progression that I was using. It was simple, and as Lynette had indicated, it did seem a bit familiar. Instead of answering, I simply shrugged and continued doodling.

“You’re either upset at June or Kris. I can’t believe that it’s June, so you’re mad at Kris. What’s wrong?”

Again I shrugged, and continued the improvisation.

Lynette continued to listen to me play, and I tried to think where that chord progression came from. I continued bouncing back between D-minor and G-major for eight beats at a time.

Suddenly, the song hit me. To make sure, I filled in the missing chords, continuing to improvise with my right hand. D-minor to D-augmented to F-major and finally to G-major. ”A Taste of Honey,” I said to Lynette, playing the melody line finally.

“Oh yeah,” Lynette said, recognizing the tune. “It was almost there, but it sounded strange.”

I nodded and went back to improvising on the song’s actual chord progression. I noticed that the in-between chords could be left out during the improv and made it easier for me to doodle against it.

“You’re angry that Kristen played the guitar for me and not for you,” Lynette observed.

I didn’t answer, but I felt wetness in my eyes as Lynette voiced what was going through my mind.

“She’s scared of you, you know,” Lynette softly said. “She doesn’t think she’s good enough for you.”

What did Lynette say? I actually stopped playing and turned to stare at the blonde behind me. “How did you get in here, Lynette? Wasn’t the DND light on?”

“No, Oogie. Look.”

I noticed the switch was down. I apparently forgot to turn it on when I came inside. Had I been that distracted?

“Kristen’s not good enough?” I asked. “Who told her that bullshit?”

“She thinks it, Jim,” Lynette said. “Now you’ve left her in the play room, despite the fact that Sherry and Merry are really your visitors. You’re not being a good host. I can imagine how Kris feels.”

I felt like a heel. Of course, Lynette was right. The girls were here at my invitation; they were my guests. As a proper host, I should be there with them. Just the same, I knew that I’d have to have a talk with Lynette later about Kristen.

I nodded to Lynette and the two of us left the studio and returned to the play room.

Lynette and I came in as I saw June sink the eight ball.

I did a double take, realizing that June and Merry had beaten my lovely blonde Goddess.

“We win!” June cried happily. “You’re up next, Oogie!”

Smiling, I took my cue from the rack and started racking the balls for June and Merry. As I did so, I saw some looks pass between Lynette and Kristen. I ignored them for the most part.

June sunk a solid on the break, but missed her next shot. Lynette and I were able to beat June and Merry, and we went for our rematch against Kristen and Sherry.

Lynette broke without sinking anything. Sherry was up next, and sunk a ball but scratched when the cue ball also fell into one of the pockets.

I carefully placed the cue and took my turn, sinking six balls in a row before missing.

Kristen sunk a number of balls in return, but missed her shot on the eight ball.

Lynette cleared the rest of our balls but missed the eight ball. Unfortunately for us, Lynette left an easy shot for Sherry, who sunk the eight ball.

After playing a few games and listening to songs on the radio in the play room, Kristen suggested that I take Sherry on a private tour of the music studio.

When we got there, Sherry uttered a surprised, “Wow!”

I grinned at the cheerleader, proud of my studio.

“You have three keyboards now?” Sherry noticed.

“Uh, huh,” I said, proudly. “The upright, an electric piano, and this is an electric organ.”

“Reel to reel deck, too,” Sherry said, impressed with the setup.

“It’s called open reel,” I said, grinning. I had a tape that I had been working on that neither Lynette nor Kristen had noticed when they were in the room. It was actually something for school.

The previous year, in October, there was a talent show at the school that I never got around to entering, mostly because I was preoccupied with my new relationship with Kristen, and the new responsibilities of having a jazz band.

This year, I was going to enter, and I wanted to see what Mr. Proilet thought about my idea.

“I’ve been working on something, and you’ll be my first test audience,” I told Sherry. “Not even Kristen has heard this one, yet.”

“Cool!” Sherry gave me a mischievous look.

I set up the standing mike for the final track, which I had flubbed a couple of times the last time I tried to record, so I decided to do just the lyrics. I have always found that I usually sang better when I have an audience. The actual music parts were pretty easy for the song I was doing. The song really needed a drum part, but I didn’t play those very well, and I didn’t even have a drum kit. I was going to need somebody to help me at the talent show.

I sat Sherry down at the other end of the room, so when I was standing behind the mike stand, I’d be facing her. I looked around, and almost everything was perfect.

“I’ll be right back. I need some props.”

“Huh?”

“One second, Sherry. Be right back.”

I left the room, and went across the hall to the “recovery room.” In the closet was a denim jacket that I had put there right after I decided on the song. In its left pocket was a pair of dark horn-rimmed sunglasses. In the room, I even had an unopened bottle of Vitalis that I had snagged at a drugstore. Even back in the 1970s, it was a relic, although it wasn’t impossible to find it in the stores. I rubbed the slick stuff through my hair and combed my hair into a 1950s style pompadour. I looked like a greaser from that era.

I looked in the mirror and was satisfied with the effect.

I ran back to the studio, closing the door, and then I turned on the DND light.

Sherry started giggling when she saw my new persona.

I smiled at her and put my finger to my lips as I started the recorder. I heard my acoustic piano track start the intro, and started to sing:

Oh...

Well... I’m the type of guy

That’ll never settle down.

Where pretty girls are,

Well, you know that I’m around.

I kiss ‘em and I hug ‘em,

‘Cause to me they’re all the same.

I hug ‘em and I squeeze ‘em.

They don’t even know my name.‘

They call me the Wanderer,

Yeah, the Wanderer,

I roam around, around, around, around.

I saw Sherry grin as she recognized the song. I had a special surprise for her in the next verse:

Well, there’s June on my left,

And there’s Lynette on my right.

And Sherry is the one, yeah,

That I’ll be with tonight!

And when she asks me

Which one I love the best,

I tear open my shirt,

I got “Kristen” on my chest!

Cause I’m the Wanderer,

Yeah, the Wanderer,

I roam around, around, around, around, around...

At the actual moment I was singing about opening up my shirt, I opened the denim jacket, and there was a piece of paper with “KRISTEN” written in magic marker pinned to my shirt with a safety pin. This caused Sherry to laugh out loud, which I knew meant that I’d have to do another take of the song. I was going to need to find a better directional microphone.

Actually, knowing that I’d have to do the take again, I found myself to be much looser. I continued the song, and started singing much more freely as I hammed it up for Sherry. I grabbed the mike with both hands, singing like a crooner.

I had a trumpet track that played the same part that the sax played on the Dion recording of the forty-five. During that solo, I twirled the microphone on its cord like Tom Jones or Roger Daltrey would do during a performance, which also generated laughs from Sherry.

At the end of the song, Sherry started applauding. “That’s fantastic, Jim! You sounded just like… what’s his name?”

“Dion and the Belmonts?” I offered. “Dion is the guy that sings ’The Wanderer.’”

Sherry gave me a small grin. “Do you really think that I’ll be the one with you tonight?”

I laughed. “No,” I answered, truthfully. “I never really had anybody for that third part. The last time I recorded this, I used the name Cammy.”

Sherry’s eyes widened for a quick moment, but she recovered quickly and said, “Well, you can use my name if you want. You recorded that, right?”

“Your laughter ruined the take, so I’ll probably do the track again later.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

“No need to apologize,” I assured Sherry. “I needed some practice with it. If it went perfect, I would have been happy, but I have until school starts to get it perfect.”

“School?”

“Talent Show.”

“You’re going to enter?” Sherry asked, surprised.

“Why not?”

“You’ll probably scare away anybody else that wants to enter, then.”

Shit. I would hate to be a disincentive to anybody at school.

“Well, I could also use it for a demo tape that Gerry can forward to Puppy Dawg’s.”

“Are you starting a band?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. I figured that I might as well start earning my keep. Anyway, do you mind sitting through another attempt?”

“You’re going to record it again?”

I nodded.

“I promise not to laugh this time!”

I reset the recorder, and got back to the microphone.

This time, the song went perfect. I rewound the tape and played it, realizing a bit that I was subjecting Sherry to the song three times in short succession. However, as I was doing the playback, I added a portable cassette recorder into the output of the pre-amp to mix the four tracks down to one—a setup I had jerry-rigged when Roy came over for a visit a week before.

After I was satisfied that the song sounded all right, I shut the machine off, and popped the cassette tape out and handed it to Sherry.

“For me?” Sherry asked, quite surprised.

“You sat through three renditions of that song. That’s for hanging on like a trouper.”

Sherry took the tape, and I could see that she was genuinely impressed with that small gift.

Meanwhile, I left the studio, turning off the DND light, and entered the “recovery room.” I took off my costume and placed it back in the closet, and threw away the “KRISTEN” paper that I had safety-pinned to my T-shirt. There was a towel in the room, and I used it to try to remove the gooey Vitalis from my hair.

When I realized that the attempt was fruitless, I wrapped my head in the towel and exited the room for the shower.

June was just coming out of the playroom. “Ahab the Arab?” June asked.

“Huh?”

“The towel on your head.”

“Oh,” I said. “No. I got something in my hair and I was going to rush in and dunk my hair under a shower for a moment.”

“Oh,” June said.

Sherry left the studio, and June smiled at her. “We’re still playing pool, Sherry. Want to join us?”

Sherry looked at me, and I said, “I’ll be in the playroom in a few moments. I want to wash this crap out of my hair.”

“All right,” Sherry said.

I went into the shower, and took one of the hand held shower massage units and turned on the water, pointing the spray toward the wall. When it was the right temperature, I bent down and sprayed it on my head, being careful not to get my clothes too wet.

A few minutes later, my hair was wet but no longer greasy. It smelled fresh from the shampoo that the girls favored, which was purchased from Kristen’s hair stylist.

I wandered into the playroom to find June, Merry, Lynette, and Sherry playing teams. Kristen was watching, but not playing.

Walking over to Kristen, I planted a big kiss on her lips. “Hey, loveliness!”

“You’re sweet, Jim!” Kristen said, smiling broadly. “Sherry sounded impressed with your recording.”

“I may want to rerecord the vocals again.”

“You’re a perfectionist.”

I shrugged. “That’s the beauty of having the four track. I can record and rerecord until it’s perfect.”

“You’re wet!” Kristen said, looking at my hair.

“If I said that to you in front of Sherry, you’d blush!” I said, giggling at Kristen.

The girls reddened by my bawdy joke.

“You’ve definitely spent too much time with Camille,” Kristen observed. After a few moments, she added, “June’s been teaching your sister pool.”

I watched Merry sink an easy corner shot. She looked up at me, grinned, and then proceeded to miss her next shot.

We all played for a couple of hours until Sherry had to leave. We all said our good-byes to Sherry as well as my sister, who Sherry would drive home.

After Sherry left, Kristen told me that she had to go downtown to do some business.

“Business?” I asked, not being aware that Kristen had any plans for the day.

“KISS stuff.”

I had heard that word before. It had something to do with Kristen’s money. I decided to ask the obvious question. “What does KISS stand for, anyway?”

“Kristen Isabel Swift, Slut!” Kristen said, laughing.

“Slut?” Lynette asked, rolling her eyes.

Everybody laughed.

“Camille suggested the ‘Slut’ part,” Kristen admitted. “Actually, other than my unofficial interpretation, I think the final ‘S’ is for Securities, or Secured, or whatever. Daddy helped me set it up—he always loved how my initials were three quarters of a kiss! Anyway, the company was founded as KISS Holdings, without any periods so we don’t have to actually explain it out. It’s just a holding company consisting of a few people that Mom, Dad, and the bank recommended. It’s how I manage my money. I even have business cards and stationery in the event that I need to impress somebody.”

I shrugged. “I’m glad it doesn’t have something to do with that stage band that uses all those gaudy costumes.” Actually, Kristen’s financial business wasn’t much interest to me. “How long will you be gone?”

Kristen smiled at me. “I love the guy in the cat makeup,” she said, still smiling. She then answered my question. “A couple of hours, Oogie. Want to come along?”

I shook my head, as I said, Kristen’s financial dealings were of little interest to me. Kristen pretended to pout, and then insisted that Lynette come along and keep her company.

That left June and I for the rest of the day, but June told me that she needed to get home that day.

I shrugged and once the girls left, I retired to the studio and started working on my music, and re-recorded the vocals on the ”Wanderer“ track so that Cammy replaced Sherry’s name, and mixed the tape down to a cassette to send to Will as a possible gift for Camille.

As a kick, I added a quick and dirty version of the ”Brady Bunch Theme“ and added a second and quite dirty verse describing the sexual exploits of Marcia as played by Camille.

After that, I was sorry that I had removed Sherry’s name from the track, and took three attempts to get the final track perfect with her name on it. I really wished Sherry was there; she was an excellent audience.

I put the tape away in the desk in the room, and considered other stuff to record.

By now, I had a ton of Fake books for all styles, and I owned a bunch of piano/vocal books for the latest songs. I found it quite easy to memorize the words to songs, and having the music around helped me pick up tunes much easier.

I found I liked some books and arrangements better than others, and soon learned which publishers to avoid at the music stores. I preferred arrangements that had the songs written in the same key as the performance of the artist so I didn’t have to manually transpose the songs as I played along with their records. Even so, my vocal range wasn’t as great as Roy’s, and I occasionally still had to transpose music to get it into my own singing range. I thought about taking up Roy’s suggestion of the two of us working on my vocals.

The equipment in my studio grew to include a stereo system that Kristen and I found at the flea market, to which we added that portable cassette deck that Roy and I tricked out. We were going to look for a stereo cassette deck, but since I insisted that we were going for all second-hand equipment in the studio, the pickings were slim. The setup, while it wasn’t the top of the line, was still respectable. We had a tuner, amp, pre-amp, turntable, and that portable cassette. I could play just about any song we had a copy of at the apartment, as well as pick up music from the local stations. It was fun picking along the latest tunes on the radio.

After about three hours of playing keyboards, trumpet, recording vocals, and just lounging around listening to some Sinatra and Elton John, I noticed the intercom light was flashing.

“Oogie here!” I announced.

“About time you answered,” Kristen said.

“How long was it this time?” I asked.

“Ten minutes.”

“That’s not a record, dear.”

I could hear Lynette laughing in the background.

“Mr. Proilet’s here.”

My music teacher? “Um… be right up!”

I ran from the studio upstairs to the living room.

Mr. Proilet was sitting in the living room, flanked by Lynette and Kristen. My favorite recliner was empty and strategically located so that the three of them would be facing me.

Something told me that Kristen was in what I call her “overwhelm and conquer” mode, which I had seen a few times, most notably during the situation between my English teacher and my High School Principal.

I didn’t take my seat, but approached guardedly.

“Hey, Mr. P,” I said. “What’s up?”

“I’ve offered Kristen a job, and she’s accepted.”

I looked at Kristen and saw a gleam in her eyes.

I turned to Lynette and said, “Lynette, can you tell me the real story?”

Mr. Proilet started laughing. “You know Kristen all right!”

Kristen didn’t react. I looked at Lynette and asked her to continue.

“Jim, I’m not aware of all the financial details, but Kristen’s KISS Holdings, along with her father’s Swift Holdings, are donating money to the High School music program.”

Mr. Proilet picked it up. “Kristen came to me a couple of weeks ago and asked what she could do to help me out this year. I told her about the increase in enrollment in the program, and that I was going to be hard pressed to fulfill everything that I would need to do as the head of the program at the school. I mean, there’s Mr. Ryan for the orchestral band, but I head the concert and marching bands. The size of the marching band has doubled, and it looks like we’re going to be invited to some more parades this year. There’s a chance that we might get invited to do a half-time show at a University football game, which might mean local television coverage.”

I nodded. The marching band didn’t interest me in the least, actually, but I knew that nearly all of the concert band members were in it. They would be practicing starting next week before school officially started to be ready for the first football game.

Mr. Proilet continued. “The money from Kristen and her father will allow me to hire two new people. The first is a guy that I have been trying to get for a couple of years now, except there was no money in the school budget for him. Last year’s concerts and musical made money, and the budget was a bit better for this year, but still not enough to get Roger Harris. When Kris called me, I told her the situation, and she offered to help fund him to work full time, taking over my responsibilities for the marching band. Kristen’s father made it a permanent donation, plus funded a new football scoreboard for the athletic department. Anyway, I’m now able to have Roger as long as I want. He’s got experience with drum and bugle corps…”

As I said, the marching band didn’t interest me. I interrupted. “Hey, Kris! That was a nice gesture!”

Mr. Proilet knew about my lack of interest in the marching band and decided to switch tack. “I talked it over with Mr. Yank, and also got him to make an agreement to accept the donation, which is a grant over a period of ten years. In addition, Stanley has agreed to allow me to hire Kristen.”

“Hire Kristen? Why?” I asked, confused.

“I’ve created a part time, student teacher job for Kristen,” Mr. Proilet answered. “She will work three days a week as Music Department Student Liaison.”

“Liaison?”

Kristen finally answered. “I’m to help out a few hours to help Jean as an interface to the students, mainly to help on some mundane chores, and extracurricular projects. This is all contingent on my being able to continue to take my courses at the college and keep up my grades.”

I picked up the important two words. “’Extracurricular projects’ as in ‘Jazz Band?’”

Kristen nodded, smiling.

Mr. Proilet added, “The chorus, also.”

There was a strange smile on Lynette’s face, and I thought silently for a few moments.

I realized that Mr. Proilet had worked it out so that I would have my muse around for another year! In addition, he was able to hire a guy that would be able to make our band more competitive on the field.

“When does this Roger start?” I asked.

“He’s already accepted, and he officially starts next week,” Mr. Proilet said, smiling. “Roger actually started work on the schematics for the drills in anticipation, once I told him that Kristen’s word was a done deal.”

I was truly happy for everybody. Kristen found a way to continue to insinuate herself into my music, even after she graduated. In addition, I knew that Mr. Proilet wanted a competitive marching band, and I think that made him feel a bit better. Mr. Proilet had been told that marching band was outside my main interests by my Junior High music teacher, Mr. Thurd.

I would like to add here parenthetically that I had a reason for not liking the marching band. I always associated the drills (especially the drum and bugle corps) with the military, and I spent a good portion of my life growing up in the 1960s, where anti-war sentiment was nearly universal among my age group. In other words, I considered the marching band to be in the same league as, say, high school R.O.T.C classes. I don’t think that I would feel the same way if I were growing up today, since marching bands have come a long way since the 1970s, and I think it was people like Roger Harris that made the bands better and made them much more popular.

Mr. Proilet, Kristen, Lynette, and I made some small talk, and eventually I brought Mr. Proilet downstairs to my studio to show him some of the stuff that I was working on. Kristen and Lynette also joined us, and I really think everybody was impressed at what I was able to do as a soloist with my own studio.

Jean actually smiled when he heard my rendition of ”The Wanderer“ with Sherry’s name in it. “You continue to amaze me, son.”

“I’m thinking of taking a gig at Puppy Dawg’s,” I told my teacher.

“Solo?”

“Well, Gerry’s band broke up, so I was going to ask for him and his drummer, who are pretty good. I could use good singers, like Roy and Stacey, and I’d like to get somebody like Sam. Of course, I’ll involve Kristen as well.”

Kristen smiled when I mentioned her name.

“I figured Kristen would be there,” Mr. Proilet said, smiling.

“I can’t see myself doing it without her. What do you think?” I asked.

“The band you envision sounds good, but the pay may not be worth it if you have to divide it among so many people.”

“Yeah,” I said. “The money is the difficult part. I’m trying to figure an angle around that.”

Mr. Proilet, Kristen, and Lynette all had the good sense not to recommend that Kristen help bankroll a band for me.

“You’ll work something out, Jim.”

“I wish Archy was here. I could use a good soloist. He was terrific on the horn.”

“Have you considered Megan?” Mr. Proilet.

Megan was going to be a senior and she played flute in the orchestral band. I had heard her accompany Roy on Colour My World during the spring concert a couple of months ago. “I forgot about her. She’d be great.”

Mr. Proilet looked serious. “You’re thinking more of a jazz band than a rock band. Will that fit into Puppy Dawg’s?”

I shrugged. “There are quite a few loose ends, and I need to work them out. Any suggestions you may have would be appreciated.”

* * *

After Mr. Proilet left, Kristen, Lynette, and I went upstairs to the apartment. Kristen put on one of her favorite albums, a two record set that her parents had imported from the United Kingdom.

I was familiar with import records. I had a nearly complete collection of U.K. imports of the Beatles at my parents’ house. I played each of those precious albums once and recorded them to cassette, which I would listen to over and over. The earlier Beatle albums were much different in their original version (U.K.) than the ones they released in America. Even some of the songs had subtle differences!

Kristen, on the other hand, didn’t seem to mind that she would be putting a diamond needle—the hardest surface known to man—in the groove of a hard to come by vinyl record.

I learned not to say things like that to Kristen. In addition, the performer was Melanie, who had a few hits in the late 1960s.

Anyway, after playing the two records, Kristen flipped them over and played the other sides. Apparently, this was the first time that she had done this with me in the room, because I immediately noticed the first song that played.

“Melanie made a remake of that song?” I asked, listening to a song that was a top forty song for another group.

Kristen looked at me strangely. “Melanie wrote that song, Jim.”

The song was something that I knew that was performed by a group whose name that I had forgotten—the same group that performed “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing” for the Coke commercial. I thought the title was Look What They’ve Done To My Song but the actual title was worded differently than the lyrics.

I listened to Melanie’s version of the song, and noticed the singer’s voice, while much more raw than the pop version that I was familiar with, was perfect for the song.

“I always thought of Melanie as… well, trite. You know, stuff like Brand New Key. That song sounds good!”

I knew as soon as the words came out of my mouth that I had said the wrong thing.

Kristen looked at me sadly. “You’re the last person that I thought would peg a performer for a single song.”

I guess I looked sheepish, as Kristen came over and hugged me. “I’m sorry, Love. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“No problem, Love,” Kristen said, smiling at me. “Melanie is probably just as much a victim of the music labels as anybody ever was.”

This wasn’t the first time I heard disparaging remarks about the music industry. It would also not be the last. I also promised myself that I’d never try to shoehorn another person into a specific genre.

Chapter 35—Unexpected Trip

Oh, we’re big rock singers.

We got golden fingers.

And we’re loved everywhere we go.

We sing about beauty,

And we sing about truth

At ten thousand dollars a show.

Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show

The Cover of the Rolling Stone

The next day, June called and told me that she wasn’t going to be visiting for a few days.

“What’s up, Baby?” I asked, knowing that June had no obligations to come over, and realizing that June didn’t just call to say she wasn’t coming over.

“Oh… nothing,” June said unconvincingly.

“Tell Doctor Oogie about it,” I coaxed.

Despite June’s low spirits, I heard a bit of a chuckle from June. However, her voice almost immediately turned serious again. “I got a letter from Tiny.”

Oh, shit. June NEVER called Archy by the nickname that she claimed to hate. “What’s up with Archy?” I asked.

“Oh… nothing.”

I didn’t answer, but decided to allow June to take her time. After a minute or two, June finally continued. “He says that his coach is being hard on him.”

“That’s what coaches are supposed to do,” I pointed out.

“I’m talking about his curriculum,” June said. “Archy wants to use football as a way to get a good education and maybe a good job. He loves animals and was thinking of becoming a veterinarian. His coach, however, is forcing him to take the jock classes… the ones that don’t teach anything and are there just for scholarship students to easily ace so they can continue playing.”

I could see where June was heading with this. From my short friendship with Archy, I knew him to be a very attentive student, even though we shared no classes together.

June continued. “If Archy goes along, the diploma he eventually gets will be essentially worthless. If he doesn’t go along, the coach has threatened his scholarship.”

This wasn’t fair! “That sucks!” I protested.

“Tell me about it!” June agreed.

“What sucks?” Kristen asked, walking out of the bedroom.

I put my hand over the transmitter and gave Kristen a quick summary of my discussion with June.

Immediately, Kristen took the phone out of my hand. “June, this is Kris… I’ll be picking you up at your house in…” She looked at her watch. “Forty-five minutes. I need to make some phone calls.”

Kristen didn’t wait for an answer, and hung up the phone.

“Jim, pack an overnight bag for us. Go downstairs and get a change of clothes for June. Ask Lynette if she wants to come with us. We’ll use her car.”

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“I told you what I want, Jim,” Kristen said, almost snapping at me. She was surprised that I didn’t just follow her directions blindly. “Now, get!”

Dismissed, I went to the bedroom to follow Kristen’s directions. I looked in Kristen’s closet, and didn’t know what kind of outfit that she’d want.

As if Kristen were reading my mind, she called out, “Jim, I need the grey button down shirt and the matching pants. They’re on the right side of the closet near the front. Don’t forget underwear!”

I found the outfit that Kristen wanted and then packed a pair of slacks and one of the collared shirts of mine that the girls seemed to like.

As I left the bedroom, Lynette was already in the living room with a small overnight bag. “I’ve got an outfit for June, Jim,” she said. “What’s going on?”

Kristen was talking on the phone. “How soon can you get to Lafayette? Really? What’s his name?”

I shrugged at Lynette.

Kristen turned her attention from the phone to the two of us. “I’ll be downstairs in a few minutes, Lynette.”

Lynette shrugged back at me as we were summarily dismissed by Kristen.

On the way downstairs, I told Lynette what little I knew about the conversation I had with June and Kristen’s taking charge immediately afterward.

“Lafayette? Kristen’s going to Purdue!” Lynette said.

I was a bit surprised, and hadn’t made that connection.

Almost as soon as we got to Lynette’s car, Kristen stormed out of the building. “Why aren’t you two in the car already? Come on, you guys!”

“What’s going on?” I demanded.

“Just get in the car! Lynette, we need to stop at June’s first.”

The three of us got into Lynette’s vehicle, and I sat in the back. “I’m driving you guys to Purdue?” Lynette asked once we were out the security gate.

“No,” Kristen said. “From June’s, we stop at the air field outside town.”

“Your uncle Jerry?” I asked.

“Yeah, he was already at the hangar and was just going to go for a joy ride. He said he’d be happy to take us to Indiana.”

“What are we going to do at Purdue?” I asked.

“Set some things straight,” Kristen said, her eyes flashing her anger.

* * *

I had never been to Purdue University before. I knew they had a nationally ranked football team, and I had been proud when Archy had been accepted on their team. He wasn’t a starter, but June said that his coach told him that he had great potential.

The only person in our entourage that seemed to know what she was doing was Kristen. From the air field in West Lafayette, she arranged for a cab to take us to the campus. When told how long it would take for a cab to arrive, Kristen hung up and called a limo company that had an advertisement at the hangar. The limo arrived about five minutes later.

“Are you familiar with Purdue?” Kristen asked the driver.

“Yeah,” the driver said.

“Take me to the administration building.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kristen didn’t explain what she was about to do. I’ve seen her headstrong before, but there was a determination in her right now that was unusual. June, Lynette, and I looked at each other, not totally understanding what was happening.

Once at the administration building, Kristen told Lynette to stay with the limo and check us into the University Inn, which was nearby. Kristen already had reservations for a suite of rooms and a friend of Kristen’s would pick Lynette up from there and bring her to us.

I was surprised, but we all followed Kristen’s lead, and June and I followed Kristen as she started walking toward a red brick building.

A man that was standing nearby noticed Kristen and said, “Excuse me, are you Miss Kristen Swift?”

“I am,” Kristen said, looking at the man warily.

“Mike Shapiro sent me to find you,” the man replied. “My name is Willard Keesan, and his law offices contacted me. I’m with the financial aid department.”

Kristen smiled and offered her hand. “These are my companions, Jim Crittenhouse and June Rodgers.”

“Kris, Mike told you that you didn’t need to make this trip. We’ve already been contacted and your demands are already being worked on.”

Kristen seemed surprised. “Really?”

“Your father has influence, Miss Swift.”

“What demands?” I asked.

“We’ve arranged for the cancellation of Archy Jonas’ scholarship,” Willard said.

“Canceled?” June cried. She looked at the three of us, horrified.

“I’m covering his tuition, housing, and living expenses by underwriting a guaranteed student loan,” Kristen explained.

“He’ll have to forgo some things,” Willard said. He looked around nervously.

“His perks,” Kristen said, matter-of-factly.

“May I take the three of you to my office? I think we should not be having this discussion out here.”

“How far?” Kristen said, a bit suspicious and eying the building she had been ready to enter.

“A few blocks from here,” Willard promised. “It’s really taken care of.”

Kristen looked at June and me. June was still a bit shocked at what was happening so quickly in front of her. I looked at Willard and nodded slightly to Kristen.

“Thank you, Mr. Keesan,” Kristen said. “Your office.”

Willard Keesan’s office was close enough to walk, actually.

Once inside the office, we were led into a conference room.

“Miss Swift, as Mike told you, you didn’t really need to come. We work these sort of things every day.”

“Do your every day things include charges of fraud, malfeasance, and offering enticements outside the bounds of the NCAA rules?” Kristen asked.

Willard blanched. “There is no fraud or malfeasance involved, Ms. Swift.”

Kristen had fire in her eyes. “A freshman’s coach has told him that he could lose his scholarship if he doesn’t sign up for make-work classes. He came to this respected university to get an education. In return, he will offer his athletic skill to your Boilermakers. You are now denying him the education that you promised him.”

“I think the student misinterpreted his coach.”

“Shall we get Archy Jonas and the coach in question right here?”

Willard decided to change the subject. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out some papers. “On his application, Mr. Jonas has indicated a desire to eventually enter our School of Veterinary Medicine.”

Kristen looked at June, who simply nodded.

“That’s correct,” Kristen said.

“I’m sure our counselors will be able to help Mr. Jonas to arrange a schedule that is appropriate for the discipline that he has expressed an interest in. He doesn’t have to declare a major…”

“What perks was he offered?” Kristen asked, interrupting the man.

“The university officially has a policy that forbids the offering of gifts to members of our sports program.”

I was confused. I thought that Willard had said that Archy would have to forgo his perks.

“Mike told me how the game is played. If it’s not the university, it’s the alumni committee or somebody else. I don’t fucking care who offered something to Archy. I’m more interested in what he was offered.”

Mr. Keesan looked ashen.

We were interrupted by a secretary. “Mr. Keesan, Daniel Swift is on the phone asking if his daughter has arrived.”

Before Willard could answer, Kristen took charge. “Forward Daddy’s call to this room. I’ll talk to him.”

The secretary was surprised, and looked at Mr. Keesan, who simply shrugged.

As I said, this was the side of Kristen that I didn’t get to witness very often: “take charge and ambush” or “overwhelm and conquer.” There was a side of her that was ruthless when confronting a situation that she didn’t like.

The phone buzzed a few moments later and Kristen casually picked up the phone. “Daddy? Thank you… yes. I’m talking about that right now. I’ll call you if I need you. I love you, too. You’re sweet!”

Kristen turned to the lawyer that had lost charge of the situation. “Mr. Keesan, I’m not interested in trying to trick you into admitting knowledge of any offers that were made unofficially to Archy Jonas. I’m here basically for his benefit. I will talk with Archy later on, and if he wants to continue playing football despite the fact that he is no longer bound to a scholarship, he will. June has told me that he had always wanted to play for the Boilermakers.”

Kristen looked at June and smiled.

“My company, KISS Holdings, is underwriting all financial aid to Archy Jonas to an amount equal to his old scholarship. This will include housing and living expenses, and any and all perks that would normally be offered to him as a scholarship recipient. KISS will also pay Purdue University the standard service fee for managing the student loan. Standard loan terms apply in that no payments need to be paid until one year after Archy leaves Purdue, and will terminate ten years afterward. The interest rate for the life of the loan is one percent. Do you have any questions?”

“One percent?” Mr. Keesan sputtered. “The prime interest rate is…”

“The loan is already backed by KISS,” Kristen interrupted. “Purdue is getting a service fee for processing the loan, and the one percent is a bonus on top of that fee. Purdue has no exposure with this loan, and can only gain—even if only a relatively small amount—from it.”

There was a small amount of haggling of the finer details, but it was obvious that Kristen was on top of things.

When the discussion was ended, Mr. Keesan seemed to have a new respect for Kristen. He offered each of us a handshake as we started to file out of the conference room.

Before Kristen left, she turned to Mr. Keesan. “By the way, my friends and I would appreciate it if you could secure us a University car for the next twenty-four hours. You can bill KISS at your normal rates.”

“Sure thing, Ms. Swift.”

Mr. Keesan went to his secretary and whispered something to her. She nodded and got a pair of keys from her purse, and Mr. Keesan handed them to Kristen. “It’s the dark blue Buick in the parking lot.”

“We’re not taking your secretary’s car, are we?” I asked.

“Well, Mr. Crit…”

“Crittenhouse,” I offered.

“Mr. Crittenhouse, it’s the University’s car. Another will be sent to replace hers in about three hours, and she’ll get her car back when you leave.”

The secretary shrugged and didn’t look too put out.

“Thank you, Mr. Keesan.”

“Do you know where we would be able to find Archy?” Kristen asked.

“You could try his dormitory at the Hilltop Apartments, or the football field,” Mr. Keesan answered. He looked thoughtful for the moment. “They had practice earlier this morning. So he may be at his apartment or having lunch.”

“Can you please meet my companion, Lynette Robbins, and explain to her how to find Archy’s apartment? She was going to meet us with one of the lawyers my father secured at the other building.”

“Certainly, Ms. Swift.”

Kristen nodded and the three of us left. We found the Buick and Kristen drove. Kristen seemed to know her way around Purdue, as she drove straight to the Hilltop without having to consult a campus map.

“Have you been here before?” I asked.

“Will and I spent some time here a couple of years ago,” Kristen answered. “He was thinking of attending here.”

“Is that how Mr. Keesan knew your father?”

“Uh, huh,” Kristen said, smiling. She asked June, “Which building is Archy staying at?”

“Building five,” June answered.

“Ahh, that would be at the top of the loop,” Kristen said.

Kristen didn’t park in the parking lot, but parked illegally closer to one of the buildings.

“Isn’t this illegal?” June asked.

“Not for University cars,” Kristen answered. “That’s why I asked for one instead of getting a rental.”

June and I giggled at that.

The three of us, led by Kristen, entered the building. June knew Archy’s apartment number, and we knocked on his door.

The man that opened the door was enormous. He was big, black, and must have had about twenty-five pounds on Archy. “Yeah?”

June took the initiative. “I’m Archy’s girlfriend from Illinois,” she said softly. “These are my friends. Are you Sam?”

The large man smiled. “You that chick June?” He turned around. “Hey, little guy! Your old lady is here!” He opened the door wider and let us in.

The apartment that I was looking at was unlike any dormitory that I had envisioned. It had a separate living room, two bedrooms, and even its own bath. It was truly an apartment.

Archy came out of the bedroom wearing only his boxers. “June!” he said, running toward his girlfriend. He picked her up and they spent about two minutes kissing.

While Archy and June were getting reacquainted, I offered my hand to Sam.

“Let me guess,” Sam said. “You that guy they call ‘Oogie,’ and the other one must be Kristen. Am I right?”

I smiled. I could see my reputation was getting wider thanks to Archy. “Yeah.”

“Archy’s playing at the Marriott tonight.”

“Trumpet?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah. Just him, a piano, and a drum. They do some old jazz stuff.”

“Cool!” I said, grinning. I couldn’t wait to see Archy back in action.

Archy and June had finally finished their hot kiss. “Sam, this here’s the guy I was telling you about. He’s the virtuoso—that’s French for talented dude—that taught me to read music.”

“I figured,” Sam said, his laughter booming. “Kristen, I’m honored to meet you.”

“Why are you guys here?” Archy asked.

“Kristen canceled your scholarship,” June said, grinning.

Both Sam and Archy reacted identically. “She what?” they shouted together.

“You are now on financial aid, backed by my holding company.”

“But he’ll lose the apartment!” Sam said.

“I have it arranged so that Archy loses nothing. However, your coach now has no hold over Archy. There’s a Mr. Keesan that Archy can visit that will arrange for a counselor to plan for your eventual veterinary degree.”

“You’re shitting me!” Archy said.

“I’d have a hard time passing you, Archy,” Kristen said sweetly.

I smiled, having gotten Kristen’s joke. Suddenly, Sam burst out in thunderous laughter. “She’s funny, Archy!”

Finally, Archy and June got Kristen’s little joke. “You’re serious, aren’t you? I keep the apartment, the car…” Archy stopped, thinking he may have said too much.

“It’s our car,” Sam said. “It’s a lease and Tiny Boy and I share it. That means he goes where I want him to go.”

“Well, we have our own wheels,” Kristen said.

“Did you bring the Camaro?” Archy asked.

“No,” I answered. “Kristen had her Uncle Jerry fly us to Purdue Airport, and we took a limo from there, and the University made a University car available to us.”

“No shit!” Archy said, laughing. “You can park that thing anywhere!”

“Of course,” Kristen said.

“Do you have practice this afternoon?” June asked.

“It was this morning,” Archy answered. “Tomorrow, we have a game. I haven’t been used yet, but if Sam here were to get a cramp in his sleep, I might play as a substitute.”

June looked at Archy with a wicked grin. “Did I ever show you how to administer a Charley Horse?”

Sam actually backed away from the diminutive June. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare! That boy is too eager for me to get an injury, and I’m defenseless against a lovely little woman like you!”

June moved toward Sam, but her motion had absolutely no threat in it. When she backed Sam against the wall, June gave Sam a hug and softly said, “Thanks for the compliment.”

Both Sam and Archy had an open afternoon and we sat around, allowing Archy and June catch up on everything that happened since Archy left for Indiana.

When June was explaining what she had been doing, I noticed that she carefully tiptoed around the “Oogie Stories” out of deference to the way I felt about them.

Still, June revealed enough that Sam finally interrupted. “June, I don’t mean to pry, and it probably ain’t my business, but are you telling your boyfriend that you have been sleeping over this guy’s house?”

June looked at Archy, who smiled broadly.

“Sam, it’s not a problem,” Archy said. “Jim is my best friend in the world. I’ve only known him personally since this past winter, but he’s the real deal. June has known him longer, but I have no doubt about her love for me. On top of that, I have no doubt about Jim’s love for that beautiful girl that’s snuggled against him right now. You’ve seen them looking at each other since they got here, haven’t you?”

Sam nodded his head. “That’s why I couldn’t believe it when your girl…”

“June is a lady,” Archy corrected. “Over the month or so that we’ve been apart, she is more of a lady than she ever was before, and I know that it’s due to their influence.”

I knew better than to open my mouth, but Kristen didn’t have anything stopping her from doing so. “Jim is the guy that I’m going to marry, just like Archy is the guy that June is going to marry. None of us is jealous of the other, except that Archy probably misses June enough that seeing her was probably the highlight of the month for him. I know that seeing Archy was the highlight of June’s month, and she’s had an active one.”

“Active?” Sam asked, confused.

Kristen filled in a lot of the missing pieces, omitting outright mentions of sex. She told the “Oogie Stories” that June had the good sense to avoid, and she had everybody with one exception laughing their asses off.

As for me, I just glared at Kristen. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any more and I finally put an end to her diatribe about how I was the best thing that ever walked the earth by pulling her close to me and kissing her.

The phone rang soon afterward, but I continued to kiss Kristen before she started telling those stories again.

Sam got the phone, but a few moments later, Archy was on the line. When I heard him say, “Oh, damn! That sucks!” I finally broke the kiss with Kristen.

The disappointed look on Archy’s face prevented any of us from saying anything. There wasn’t much more information to be gleaned, as Archy was most just listening on the other end.

Archy finally said, “Please wish him luck for me, OK?” and a few moments later, he hung up the phone.

“What happened, Archy?” June asked.

“It’s not as bad as it may have seemed,” Archy said. “John sounds like death warmed over, though. He tried talking with me, and then Julie took over and told me that John seems to have caught the cold that has been running around the campus. It’s a terrible one. Anyway, he’s out for tonight.”

“Out for what?” I asked, confused.

“It will only be me and Troy tonight. Drums and a horn.” Archy sounded quite disappointed.

I noticed June and Kristen both staring at me. I got the hint quickly. “Does John play electric or acoustic?”

“Electric,” Archy said, knowing where I was headed.

“Amplified, right?”

“Yeah, John has the equipment.”

Kristen gave me a smile, and simply nodded to me.

“Archy, it’s been a couple of months since we played together. Want to relive some happy times?”

“Does that mean I get to hear the great Oogie Woogie?” Sam asked, laughing. “Archy said you sing, which may be a good thing, since John was also the singer for the combo.”

“Was he?” I asked, surprised. It occurred to me that a trumpet player wouldn’t normally be a singer, but tell that to Louis Armstrong. “What kind of songs?”

“Ipanema, some Sinatra tunes, Wave…”

“I didn’t know Wave had words,” I said doubtfully.

“It may, but we do that as an instrumental.”

“Would Dion be out of place?”

“Well, we play mostly background music for the lounge.”

“Why not give them a show?” I asked. “One night only. It may increase attention for other weeks, and allow you to play songs you might prefer. You know, Moon Dance, Green Eyed Lady, Elton John, Beatles…”

Archy and Sam laughed. Sam asked, “You could put together a set like that in a few hours?”

I looked at my Goddess, who had a proud smile on her face.

“I could try. I’ve been practicing most of that stuff over the last month or so in my studio.”

“I don’t doubt that Oogie could put that together,” June said quietly.

“Dion?” Kristen asked.

“It was going to be a surprise, actually,” I said sheepishly.

“Which song?” Kristen asked, prodding me.

“Let’s leave that for a surprise. I know that Archy can play pretty well by ear, and drummers usually know the beat when they know the song. It’s just a trio, you know.”

Sam shook his head. “You told me that this guy was a virtuoso, and I guess I’ll see if he’s for real.”

I looked at my friends and smiled. “I owe Archy a big debt of gratitude, and I’d be honored to help him out, even if it’s just this one night.”

* * *

Lynette arrived shortly afterward, and we introduced her to Sam.

After Lynette arrived, Kristen asked Archy if she could see his phone book. Archy and Kristen left together to Archy’s room.

Meanwhile, June was updating Lynette on the news that I would be performing with Archy that night. Sam was still a bit in awe that I would actually help Archy out like that.

Lynette, of course, wasn’t surprised. “Oogie always helps out his friends. Didn’t Archy tell you the stories?”

Warning bells started ringing in my head. “Lynette!” I warned.

Lynette and June both laughed at my reaction.

Sam said, “Archy and Kristen told me about the Oogie Stories. I wondered how many of them were true.”

“All of them,” June and Lynette said together, causing Sam to laugh.

Kristen and Archy came back into the living room, and Kristen said, “Jim, Lynette, we need to get going. I need to get a hotel room, and I need some extra clothes if I’m going to a lounge concert tonight.”

Archy shook his head. “You could stay here, Kristen.”

Kristen turned to Archy and gave him a warm smile. “Thank you, Archy, but no. This apartment is meant for two people, or maybe even two couples. It is not really a good idea for six people. I am already booked at the University Inn, and I think Lynette already moved our luggage there.”

Lynette nodded in agreement.

Archy looked at June, who seemed a bit surprised and a bit embarrassed. “Um… if Archy doesn’t mind…”

Kristen continued to gather Lynette and me.

Before we could leave, however, June came running to me and gave me a kiss that was most certainly not chaste. “Thank you for helping Archy out!”

June then turned to Kristen and kissed her the same way. “Both of you!” I noticed that Archy and Sam were both surprised by that particular kiss.

* * *

Kristen, Lynette, and I left June with Archy and Sam, and got back into the University car.

“Where are we really going?” Lynette asked, knowing that Kristen had a mind of her own when it came to doing things.

“We need to get some equipment for tonight,” Kristen answered, taking the road that took us toward Lafayette.

“What equipment do we need?” I asked, a bit confused. “I thought Archy was going to get John’s equipment.”

“If we are going to help out Archy, then I would like to have a guitar so I’m not just a vocalist for you.”

If Kristen had meant to surprise me, she didn’t. I was used to her impulsive ideas and knew better than to talk her out of them when they were basically harmless. Besides, I had heard her play before, even if she didn’t know it.

Lynette, however, was surprised. “You’re volunteering to help Archy out as well?”

“Jim has been aching to get me to play with him,” Kristen explained. “I know he’s lining up a demo at Puppy Dawg’s and he’s asked me to participate. I also know that last year in the jazz band isn’t going to be enough for him. I have a feeling that he wants to play the piano, so that leaves me with the guitar. I don’t play as many instruments as well as Jim does.”

I nodded to Lynette. “Just piano tonight,” I corrected. “I was thinking of saving up some money to purchase an electric guitar for Kris for Christmas.”

Kristen was surprised by that. “You were? That’s sweet! I have a couple in my room in the main house, actually.”

I was quite surprised at this revelation. “Why didn’t you bring them into the studio?”

“That’s your studio,” Kristen said, softly.

Stunned by Kristen’s answer, I simply glared at her.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” my Goddess asked, seeing my reaction.

“Kristen, you keep on going on as if a marriage between us is a given,” I said with a sigh. “You’ve just said as much to Sam and Archy. Music is important to me, and you know it. You are important to me as well, and you know that. Having you with me is much better than me just playing by myself.”

Kristen nodded, and turned into a grocery story parking lot. “I’m sorry, Jim.”

I saw in Kristen’s eyes that she truly meant it. I smiled.

I decided to change the subject. “Lynette? Do you play any instrument? Do you sing?”

Lynette shook her head. “I only sing in the shower, and only when I’m alone. Definitely not before an audience, Oogie!”

I considered Lynette’s voice. It was a bit higher than Kristen’s when she talked, and I thought she might be a good singer if she had some training. For now, however, I, decided to take her at her word.

Turning back to my Goddess, I said, “I know you’re great on the piano. How good are you on guitar?”

“That’s right, you’ve never heard me play,” Kristen said, avoiding an answer.

“Lead guitar, right?” I asked. Kristen was going to finally open up to me about her playing, and I didn’t want her to be upset that I had heard her entertaining our friends.

“Mom taught me bass first, then I learned chords, and I can play lead if necessary. I play acoustic and I taught Will how to play electric. He plays lead. When Will practiced lead, I played rhythm or bass with him.”

“That’s right,” Lynette realized. “Your mom used to be a performer.”

Kristen nodded, and she motioned toward the end of the shopping center, where there was a music store.

The three of us left the car and entered the store.

Once inside, Kristen asked the clerk at the register if she could see the manager, handing the clerk one of her business cards.

After a minute or two, the manager arrived. “Miss Swift?”

“Yes. My companions are Jim Crittenhouse and Lynette Robbins. I need to have some music equipment for a one-night gig. I’d prefer to lease everything, but if you cannot manage that, I’d be willing to purchase them as well.”

“When is the gig?”

“Tonight at seven.”

The manager laughed. “I’m not sure that I could arrange a lease in that short a period of time. What kind of equipment?”

Kristen turned around and looked over the equipment that was on display. Her eyes locked onto an Yamaha keyboard that I had noticed the moment I entered the shop. She looked at me, and she knew instantly that we were on the same wavelength. Her attention went to a few guitars, and she picked out two electric ones and an acoustic one. Finally, she picked out an amplifier.

“These,” Kristen said, “plus cables to connect everything. We’re from out of town and didn’t bring our own stuff.”

“That’s close to four and a half thousand dollars of equipment!”

Kristen shrugged and pulled out her American Express card. “Run this card through.”

The manager looked at the charge card, and then itemized a bill for the equipment that she picked out. The total was a little over $4,400.

“Could you add delivery to the Marriott by five?”

“A hundred dollars?” the manager asked.

“More like fifty. You know a guy with a pickup or a van, and it’s only a couple of miles.”

I grinned. Kristen was on her own turf, even in a music store.

The manager added the fifty dollar delivery charge, and then said, “Do you mind if I call my bank and verify the card? It’s a large purchase.”

Kristen shrugged.

The manager left with the card, and Kristen busied herself by strumming the acoustic guitar. She stopped and re-tuned it, and then started playing a few chords and smiled at me. Again she stopped, and then started to pick a song I immediately recognized as Vincent by Don MacLean. She was indeed talented.

Kristen stopped playing when the manager returned. “I’m sorry, Miss Swift, your credit is perfect. I hope I didn’t embarrass you.”

Kristen noticed the man’s name on his tag. “I’m not insulted, Mr. Helmut. Would you be able to have these at the Marriott on time?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Thank you,” Kristen said sweetly. “We’re playing at the Marriott tonight, if you’d like to be entertained. This gentleman here is the great Oogie Woogie and you’ll be hearing about him in the future.”

I felt slightly embarrassed by Kristen’s announcement, but I just smiled at the manager.

“Is your other companion in the group as well?” the manager asked, intrigued.

Before Kristen could answer, Lynette said, “I’m his official groupie.”

Kristen and I both laughed at Lynette’s remark.

“Just the two of you?”

“We have a drummer and a very talented trumpet player who are students at Purdue,” I answered.

“What style of music? Light jazz?”

“That’s what they normally play,” I said, nodding. “We’re from out of town, replacing their sick piano player. We can play their repertoires, and I promised them that we’d expand their range for tonight only.”

The manager was surprised. “You came from Illinois to replace a sick performer?”

“Archy’s a good friend, but we didn’t come here specifically for that, but we’re always willing to help out a friend.”

The manager shook my hand. “You sound like a fine young man. You seem young for college.”

Kristen laughed. “He’s not in college, although he’s already got college credits back home.”

“I’m entering eleventh grade,” I added.

The manager’s eyes opened wide. “Really? Now I’m impressed. I’ll be at the Marriott tonight.”

We bade our farewells.

* * *

Dear Reader,

This story is intended to be fiction and the situation with the university possibly violating NCAA rules in letter or even spirit is simply a plot device to advance the story.

No disrespect to the students, faculty, or alumni of Purdue University is intended.

Sincerely,

JiMC—The Author

Chapter 36—The Concert and First Day of School

Don’t know much about history,

Don’t know much biology.

Don’t know much about a science book,

Don’t know much about the French I took.

But I do know that I love you,

And I know that if you love me, too,

What a wonderful world this would be!

Sam Cooke

What A Wonderful World

There were no suites available at the Marriott. Despite the fact that Kristen already had a suite at the University Inn, she figured that she wanted to stay at the Marriott if that was where we were going to perform. It just made things easier for us. We settled for two adjoining rooms and told the reception clerk that we were expecting some equipment to be arriving by five, and to let us know when it arrived.

The clerk looked oddly at us and said, “Can you wait a minute?”

“Sure,” Kristen said, a bit confused.

The clerk went back into the office, and returned with the manager. “Archy Jonas called and told me that you might be coming over later. You’re replacing John Fuller in the lounge tonight, correct?”

“Yes,” Kristen said. “Jim here will be replacing him specifically.”

“Archy said that tonight you might be playing some different styles since you are from out of town.”

I nodded. “I hope you don’t mind…”

The manager held up his hand and smiled. “It won’t be a problem, but please realize that it’s just a cocktail lounge. I used to be a musician when I was younger, and I understand if you want to play rock and roll or things like that. Please remember that our patrons aren’t all from your generation.”

“I understand,” I assured the manager. “I do know some people that seem to dig the stuff I play. If they don’t seem to appreciate the newer stuff, I have a pretty good knowledge of the older stuff. OK?”

The manager smiled even broader. “Thank you.”

“No problem. By the way, Kristen here will be performing tonight as well.”

“You play?”

Kristen smiled. “Guitar tonight.”

“Electric?”

“I have three guitars arriving later. An acoustic, a bass, and a lead.”

“It sounds like you do this quite often!”

“It’s a first for us,” Kristen said, looking proudly at me. “We’re doing this as a way of returning a favor to Archy.”

The manager smiled. “It sounds like it will be an interesting evening.”

Lynette and Kristen left me in one of the rooms we had while they went to the University Inn to pick up their luggage and to purchase some new clothes for the performance. In the time that I’ve lived with Kristen, I learned that there really didn’t need to be a reason for a woman to need new clothes, and with Kristen’s virtually unlimited budget, this was normal behavior for her.

I was watching television when the phone in the room rang. Looking at the clock next to the phone, I could see it was about 3 pm.

It was the manager. “Your music equipment has arrived. I had them deliver it into the lounge.”

“Is the lounge open right now?” I asked.

“It opens at five.”

“Would I be able to do some setup right now? Maybe get in a rehearsal or something?”

“That would be no problem.”

“Thanks!” I said, putting the phone down. I left a note telling the girls where I was going to be, and headed downstairs.

I saw the manager at the reception desk, and he led me into the lounge. There was a bartender inside, who looked surprised when he saw me. “Are you the new piano player?”

“Yeah,” I said, grinning.

“The people that delivered the equipment set it up for you already.”

I was surprised. “They did?”

The bartender nodded. “My name’s Greg. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“How about a large Coke?” I asked.

He laughed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t order a beer. I take the eighteen age limit seriously. You’re what? Seventeen?”

I shook my head. “Sixteen, actually, but don’t worry. My father’s drinking turned me off social drinking. I think I’d prefer to avoid the temptation than find out later that I might be as bad as he was.”

The bartender seemed impressed. “Humph. You seem a lot more mature than you look.”

As I examined the equipment, I found that the music store included a stand for the piano, and also an adjustable padded bench. In addition, the guitars were all standing on little devices that looked a bit like plate stands. There were cords attached to all of them as well as a mixer that fed into an amplifier. The piano had its own mixer/amplifier as well, surprising me.

There were even a couple of microphones set up. On the guitar amplifier was a handwritten note:

Dear Kristen,

I forgot to give you your professional’s discount, so I decided instead to add in the mixers and the second amp on the house. Give me a call if this is not acceptable.

I wish the two of you the best of luck and keep us in mind if you decide to perform in Lafayette again!

Sincerely,

Kurt Helmut

I smiled as I read the letter. The setup looked quite professional, actually. I adjusted the size of the bench, and decided that I liked it very much. I would have to convince Kristen to allow me to keep at least the bench for the music studio at the apartment.

This electric piano had four voices, which had different timbres. I asked the bartender for some masking tape and a pen, and after testing out each voice, I wrote styles over each of the voices: Jazz, Blues, Eerie, and I left the last one as is: Acoustic.

There was no mistaking the Acoustic style with a real acoustic piano, but it was passable. For grins, I tried the intro to Lady Madonna and realized that it would never do for that song—it sounded too phony to be a real piano. However, it seemed fine for Colour My World, which surprised me.

The bartender seemed impressed. “You’re not doing the regular stuff, are you?”

I immediately switched to the “blues” style and started playing Wave. “I can do the usual stuff, but at my age, rock and roll is what I identify with the best.”

“I heard you play that song from Chicago before. Do you know any more of their tunes?”

Asking any musician from Illinois if they could play Chicago is probably an unnecessary question, but the bartender probably didn’t know where I was from.

I considered their work and my repertoire. The best song of theirs that I knew how to play on the piano was Saturday in the Park. I grinned and started playing the familiar introduction to that song.

The bartender smiled, and as I went to the repeat of the intro, I was surprised to hear a trumpet play the rundown that accompanied the song on the record on cue.

Without missing a beat, I turned to see Archy with his silver trumpet and his eyes were sparkling at me.

I didn’t miss the cue and started singing the words to the song, with Archy expertly playing the trumpet part. We had played this song together during practice sessions the previous school year.

After the first verse, I signaled Archy to stop.

“Hey, guy! I didn’t know you were here.”

“The manager gave me a call and told me you were practicing. I figured that I could give you a hand, since I know you’re a perfectionist and really like to practice before performing. Troy will be here in a bit for the drums.”

I smirked and nodded.

The bartender interrupted. “That was really cool! For a kid, you sure know your stuff. You too, Tiny!”

I didn’t take any offense to that, since I knew what the bartender was saying. I’ve heard many variations of people telling me how great I was. Despite the fact that I had some personal doubts about my talent, I found it easier to simply accept compliments without major complaint.

“Oogie is going to be the greatest musician the world has ever known,” Archy said, quite seriously, surprising me. “I only wish my uncle could have lived to see him play.”

I heard a female voice quietly say, “He’s in heaven, looking down at the two of you and as proud as he can be.” I didn’t see where she was, but I recognized the voice as being June’s.

Archy turned around and that was when I saw that June was behind him. “That just might be, but if he’s in heaven, I have a feeling that he’s not very happy. All his friends will be somewhere else!”

“Archibald Jonas!” June said sternly. “You will not talk that way in front of me. We respect the deceased and we hope that they all find peace in the afterlife.”

“I’m sorry, June,” Archy said, chastened. “I was just joking. Uncle Jake used to say things like that.”

June didn’t answer, but nodded and changed the subject. “The two of you sound great together.”

The bartender agreed. “This kid seems much better than John is.”

“Oogie here is still in school in Illinois,” Archy pointed out. “He’s going to change the world with music when he’s older.”

“What key do you play Ipanema?” I asked, hoping to change the subject.

“G major seventh, I think,” Archy said. He had come a long way from his lack of knowledge of music in the past six months.

“First melody note is an A?” I asked.

“Yup.”

“Great,” I said. That put the real key a whole step down, due to the fact that the trumpet plays in a different key. I thought through the chord progressions in the key that I knew the song and did a mental transposition and didn’t think there would be any difficulties. “Want to give it a try?” I asked.

Just then, Kristen and Lynette entered the lounge. “Give what a try?” Kristen asked.

“Girl from Ipanema,” I answered, happy that my muse had shown up.

Kristen squinted her eyes. “I can play that on piano. I don’t think I’ve tried it on guitar. What key?”

“Try the acoustic,” I suggested. “F-major-seventh is the key.” Kristen and I both knew that the trumpet plays a whole step up from the piano and guitar chords. “You can watch me for the changes.”

Kristen picked up and quickly re-tuned her bass guitar, not having to adjust it much since she had done it earlier. “I’m ready. Want me to take the vocals?”

“Kristen’s playing?” June asked. “I was wondering what the guitars were for.”

“I’m auditioning for Oogie’s band back in Illinois,” Kristen said with a grin.

“I’ll take the vocals on this one, Kris,” I said, not wanting to turn the song into “Boy from Ipanema.” I turned to Archy and asked, “Do you do any solos on Ipanema?”

“First repeat of main verse. We usually don’t piano solo that song.”

“Cool. I’ll be the backup.” I looked at how comfortable Kristen was holding the bass. “We’ll try it twice. First time, Kris will be on bass, and second, I’ll let her take the melody on lead guitar after your solo, and then she can duet with me for repeat bridge and final verse. OK?”

“Is he speaking English?” Lynette asked, grinning.

“All musicians talk that way,” June said, smiling.

“Shut up in the peanut gallery!” I said, grinning as well. I played the introduction, and started singing.

I noticed that when Archy played his solo, he gave it more of a cha-cha beat than a bosa-nova beat, so I adjusted the style of my playing for the remainder of the song, and found it worked nicely.

Kristen put the bass down and picked up her lead guitar. She quickly tuned it and then turned on the pickup. “I’m ready.” It was obvious that Kristen picked up the chord progression from watching me on the piano.

We did the second run through and Kristen did a rather plain rhythm guitar backup for the first part, but right after Archy’s solo, she cooked when she took the lead, turning it into a minor solo as well. In fact, I almost missed my cue to sing the duet. When I heard Kristen’s lovely voice, I started singing harmony a third step down.

As I was finishing the song, I realized that Kristen had gone back to rhythm back beats, playing better than the first time.

“That was great, Kris!” I said when the song was finished. “You’re hired!”

“Well, I do declare!” Kristen said in her Scarlet O’Hara voice. “I do think that man wants me in his band!”

Everybody laughed at Kristen, and we then rehearsed Wave, and a few Sinatra songs that Archy said was part of their regular set. There were few snags, other than the fact that Kristen insisted on singing lead on Summer Wind—it was one of the songs for which she knew all the words.

The drummer arrived and was introduced to me as Troy. He set up and accompanied us on the songs. He was quite competent and didn’t insist on taking solos. I think there’s a law somewhere that says that all drummers insist on taking solos, but if that was true, Troy didn’t seem to know it.

Now that Kristen and the drummer were around, I decided to do some of the newer stuff. We started with Saturday in the Park and moved on to some Elton John songs. I added the Van Morrison and Sugarloaf numbers as well, thinking of Patty Nadal back home, and found that Kristen was quite competent about picking up the right guitar for each song I suggested.

Kristen suggested a song and a key, and announced that she would sing lead on it. I watched in awe as her melodic voice seemed to get the entire emotion of the song, and I noticed that as she was singing while playing the bass, she was staring right at me:

Stars shining bright above you,

Night breezes seem to whisper “I love you!”

Birds singin’ in the sycamore trees,

Dream a little dream of me.

Say nighty-night and kiss me,

Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me.

While I’m alone and blue as can be,

Dream a little dream of me.

I watched, open mouthed as Kristen sang the bridge. She sounded wonderful, and I knew that she was singing right to me. Unlike most of the other songs she sang, this one was breathy and romantic. I played my best accompaniment to her.

The second bridge was taken by Archy, who played a very beautiful solo that neatly matched Kristen’s singing style perfectly.

Kristen grinned at Archy and she sang the last verse.

“Wow!” was the general expression of everybody who had just heard this beautiful song, including the bartender.

“That was great, Kris!” I finally said.

Kristen smiled sweetly at me and thanked me for the compliment.

It was getting close to the lounge’s opening time, and Archy pulled the curtain around the performance area.

We kept most of the instruments on the stage, with the exception of Archy’s trumpet and Kristen’s guitars. We went up to our rooms, and stored the instruments there.

It was almost dinner time, and I suggested we eat at the hotel. Everybody agreed, and we had a great meal.

* * *

When we returned to the lounge later, we silently set up.

I noticed that the lounge wasn’t that crowded, and the average age of the patrons was about thirty or forty. This confirmed what the manager had told me.

I decided to let Kristen start with Summer Wind. During dinner, she told me that this was a song her parents really enjoyed listening to. I made a mental note to put this song, with Kristen singing lead, into the list of songs that I intended to record as a present for the Swifts.

From there, we did the standard bosa-nova numbers with the cha-cha beat that Archy and the normal band played. I noticed that Archy and the drummer were playing almost as if by rote, except that they weren’t always used to my styling. Kristen was amazing in that she seemed to anticipate when I would go off on a tangent and take an unannounced solo and fade into the background, and when I thought a guitar solo was needed, she was there and ready to perform.

After about fifteen minutes, Archy seemed much more comfortable, and, like Kristen, he was able to anticipate when I thought he’d be perfect for a solo.

After playing a bunch of classics, I decided to go for some rock, albeit older numbers. First up was a number that Kristen sang lead on, Johnny Angel. It was an old number from one of the stars of a 1950s sitcom that I barely knew. I had heard the song, but never tried to play it before. However, Kristen gave me the key, and it wasn’t a difficult song. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a song where Archy or I could do a good solo.

Next, I sang a duet of Lollipops with Kristen. It was a number that Archy, Kristen, and I knew from her birthday. That number came out surprisingly well. Kristen definitely had a singer’s voice. I was actually surprised by her range.

I noticed that we hadn’t lost our audience yet. If anything, the place was starting to actually fill up. I announced that Archy, Kristen, and I were all from a suburb of Chicago and we wanted to dedicate our next number to our great city. I started the intro to Saturday in the Park and Kristen was actually cooking on the rhythm guitar! Archy was impeccable in his accompaniment and the drummer was smiling as well.

I could see the audience was getting into the swing of things. We took it back to Sinatra with Fly Me to the Moon, and then followed it with a rocking version of Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. As I was singing that song, I realized that the “Eerie” setting on the electronic keyboard would be perfect for another Elton John number, and made a mental note to add that one in our next set.

Finally, it was time to end the set with Kristen’s hauntingly beautiful rendition of Dream a Little Dream of Me and I watched, transfixed, as Kristen serenaded me with her beautiful voice. Everybody else in the entire room disappeared as she poured her soul out to me. Archy’s solo on the song was even more beautiful than when we rehearsed it.

In between sets, I walked off with Archy, Troy (the drummer), and Kristen. Archy told me that the next set was in an hour, but that John, the usual pianist, usually sat in the lounge and played for about twenty minutes in the middle of the rest time. I didn’t have a problem doing that; it was a good way for me to get rid of excess nervous energy from performing with the rest of the band.

Kristen gave me a big kiss before I left to do my piano serenades, and I felt fully recharged. I walked out to the keyboard to applause, much to my surprise. Kristen came out, and got a seat to sit next to me.

The lounge was nearly full by this time.

I didn’t know what to start with, so I did the old classic As Time Goes By. It was a song that sounded great on keyboard and didn’t need a vocal. As I played it, I saw June in the audience, sitting at a table with Lynette. June was smiling and wiping a tear from her eye. I then remembered my “We’ll always have Paris” conversation, and I felt the same emotion that she was feeling. I hadn’t played this song just for her, but once I saw her reaction, I made sure it would be special for her.

I decided to keep in the mood by playing Three Dog Night’s Old Fashioned Love Song, another song that sounded great on the piano. However, after playing the intro, I forgot that I was doing a keyboard only set and started to sing into the microphone, which was still turned on.

Just an old fashioned love song

Playing on the radio.

And wrapped around the music

Is the sound of someone

Promising they’ll never go.

You’ll swear you’ve heard it before,

As its slowly rambles on.

No need in bringing them back,

Cause they’re never really gone...

The audience started to clap as I sang the song. I was a bit embarrassed. With the exception of my own room in my house, and alone in the music studio in my apartment, I’d never performed solo in front of a large audience before.

I continued singing, and at the end, the song received applause.

The next song I picked was an old instrumental, Love is Blue. I looked in the audience and saw that Sam and Archy were both sitting with June and Lynette now.

I played Ipanema again, and then Sinatra’s Young at Heart. Since I had already started singing along with my playing, I sang the song, since I knew the words.

Once again, I looked at the table where June was sitting. I thought of the perfect song for her, and whispered quietly to Kristen, who was sitting next to me. “You have a beautiful voice, and I know you have the range. Can you sing a song for me?”

“Which song?”

“Over the Rainbow,” I said.

Kristen closed her eyes, and I could tell she was thinking whether she knew all the words. After a few moments, she nodded to me.

I played an introduction, and stared at June as Kristen sang:

Somewhere, over the rainbow,

Way up high,

There’s a land that I dreamed of,

Once in a lullaby.

Something within me told me that this song was special to June, my little Dorothy who found herself in the wonderful land of Oz with Kristen, Lynette, and me.

Once again, I saw moisture in June’s eyes as Kristen’s lovely voice sang the words made famous by Judy Garland. I sang a harmony to Kristen on the bridge, and Kristen smiled at me when I did that.

When the song was done, I had another brilliant idea for a duet between Kristen and me.

Without even telling Kristen the song, I played the introduction to Close to You. Kristen smiled at me, and she started singing.

Why do birds suddenly appear,

Every time, you are near?

Just like me,

They long to be,

Close to you!

We played the song through, and I was ready to repeat when I heard a trumpet play the famous repeat of the verse, complete with a key change. I turned and saw Archy playing the part flawlessly. He had come on stage as Kristen and I were playing together, and surprised us. His solo was perfect, and between the three of us, I think we did great. Maybe we weren’t the Carpenters, but we did Burt Bacharach and Hal David justice with the song.

The applause after that song went on for about a minute!

Troy, the drummer, came onto the stage at this point, saying that we might as well start the second set.

I was in the mood for something a bit more close to my soul, so I told everybody that I was going to start with Elton John’s Crocodile Rock, which was the song that I figured would be perfect for the “Eerie” setting on the keyboard.

Despite the fact that the chords were difficult for both the guitar and the trumpet, we pulled it off very well. After that, the audience cut us quite a lot of slack. We got a good reception with Moon River and Elton John’s, Your Song.

Kristen moved over to me and suggested Stairway to Heaven, which surprised me, since it was a song that was heavy on guitar work and a complicated song at that. We hadn’t rehearsed it, but I decided to give it a try. Kristen didn’t disappoint at all on the guitar, and I think I did a good job imitating Robert Plant’s vocals. (I’m glad I loved listening to that song over and over!)

When we finished, it was obvious that the people in the lounge were thoroughly entertained. The applause afterward was very long, and we all thought we put on a great show.

“Damn you, Oogie!” Archy said when we met back stage. “We’re never going to be able to duplicate this!”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Well, John doesn’t play like you.”

“Get him to try,” I suggested. “How many weeks have you been doing this?”

“Three.”

I smiled. “Find your own voice.”

Archy looked at me and didn’t say anything for a few moments.

June moved up to the big behemoth and kissed him. “Jim’s right. He did the set the way he would do it. Find your own voice.”

Archy kissed June back and said, “How did you get so smart, little kiddo?”

June looked at me and smiled. “I’ve been learning from the nicest people in the word, Teddy Bear!”

* * *

The outing to Purdue was the last great thing we did before the beginning of my school year.

Kristen had really impressed me with her performance at the Marriott. On the trip back from Indiana, we were talking about her place in what I had in my mind as my band. Kristen was quite talented in her guitar playing, and had the voice of an angel.

She had a great vocal range, and it was obvious to me that she had a gift for music.

“Why don’t you play when we’re at home?” I asked Kristen when we were alone after the trip.

“I don’t want to interfere with your big love.”

“You are my big love,” I informed Kristen.

“You’re sweet!” Kristen said, giving me a big kiss.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Kristen looked at me. “Jim, you know that I want you to succeed in whatever you do in life. I don’t want to be the kind of girl that will dictate your life. If you like music, then it’s special, since I like it, too.”

I was confused. “So why were you hiding your talent from me?”

Kristen didn’t answer that question.

* * *

It was with a heavy heart that I went to class on the third of September.

As I expected, Kristen, Camille and Patty weren’t there, having graduated the previous year. June drove me in and she was with me, but I kept thinking about the previous year, when my best friends were with me.

June knew what was going through my mind and didn’t interfere. In fact, she knew that I was pretty moody that day. The two of us picked up Merry at my parents’ house and Merry was tagging along with me, a bit apprehensive.

I saw Sherry in front of the school, and I smiled. I was glad that I had that talk with Sherry during Merry’s initiation.

“Hi, Sherry,” I said.

“Hi, Jim,” Sherry said, smiling. She also said “Hi!” to my two companions.

“Looking forward to eleventh grade?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Sherry said, nodding.

We went into the building together.

* * *

I had a brand new schedule, including two music courses (Band and Theory), and started the day bright and early with Math.

There were some familiar faces in my classes, including a couple of cheerleaders I met when Merry was initiated. In an interesting turn of events, I found that the cheerleaders scrambled to find seats around where I was sitting, making me a bit of a popular student.

I remembered Patty’s words from last year, when she said that people were going to consider me a jock. I really didn’t feel like one, but apparently the cheerleaders felt differently. All of them were exceedingly pleasant with me, going out of their way to say “Hi!” to me, and I was equally fraternal with them.

Merry started school a day earlier as the school was inaugurating a sophomore orientation program which would allow the new arrivals to learn about the layout and structure of the school day before being subjected to the junior and senior students. It appeared that despite the sophomores’ complaints that they had to withstand a whole additional day of school (actually, it was only a half day, and there weren’t even any assignments handed out), the general consensus was that the program was successful, as everybody seemed to know where their classes were pretty well.

On my way to my second period Physics class, I saw Mr. Yank in the hallway, and he greeted me by name. “Ready for a new school year, Jim?”

I waved at him and smiled. “Well, a lot of my friends from last year have graduated, but I hope to make some new friends this year.”

Mr. Yank nodded at me. “That’s a good attitude to have. We also have Kristen working part time in the music department, so not all of your friends are gone.”

I continued smiling as I walked to my class.

In second period, I saw a lot of people looking at me, and I realized that they were waiting to see where I was going to sit. As I took my seat, there was a mad scramble to find seats near where I was sitting.

I saw Sherry Jordan walk into the classroom, and she saw where I was sitting. She walked over to the occupied seat next to me and whispered something into the ear of the cheerleader who was sitting there. Without any fuss, the cheerleader got up and offered Sherry her seat.

Sherry smiled at me, and the teacher cleared his throat in order to get the attention of the students.

* * *

Third period band had a lot of familiar faces, and people greeted me by name, or used the nickname “Oogie.” I barely remembered that Mr. Proilet had said that band attendance had increased and saw that where we previously had about fifty students in the band, it had increased to about eighty. A few of the new students were people I remembered in junior high, and I thought that some of them had quit the band back then.

I remembered a year ago when I made a friend for life with Toby McConnell by switching from trumpet to trombone. The trumpet section looked pretty capable once again, but before I could make up my mind where I was going to sit, Mr. Proilet indicated that I should sit at the first chair for the trumpet section.

“I think everybody here knows Jim Crittenhouse,” Mr. Proilet announced to the class. “We’re blessed to have him with us again this year. This year, he will be helping me out with getting the band together, and he’ll once again be putting together an extra-curricular jazz band.”

A lot of the students looked at me, apparently eager to join the jazz band. Last year’s incarnation of the jazz band had proven very popular, and more than a few people wanted to try out this year.

It occurred to me that I might have to turn down some of these people if I wanted to have a manageable band.

Mr. Proilet continued his announcement. “Jim will be holding auditions for the jazz band again this year. If you are interested in jazz band, you will see him after school on… which day, Jim?”

“Thursday,” I said automatically. “Tomorrow.”

Mr. Proilet handed out some music and we started practicing some of the numbers for our first concert. As was expected when most students hadn’t played their instruments since last June (and some of the newer people probably hadn’t played for years!), the band didn’t sound as bad as one might think. Of course, there were rough spots, and it isn’t easy for everybody to do a cold reading, but it was obvious to me that the band would come along pretty nicely.

After the period ended, I went up to talk with Mr. Proilet. A man entered the room, and Mr. Proilet introduced him as Roger Harris, the person who was hired thanks to Kristen’s donation to the school.

“Hello, Jim,” Mr. Harris said. “I’ve heard many good things about you.”

“Same here,” I said. We shook hands.

Mr. Harris looked as if he were in his late twenties, about five or ten years younger than Mr. Proilet.

“I’m sorry to hear that I won’t be able to get you for the marching band.”

I shrugged. “It’s not personal,” I said a bit sheepishly.

Mr. Harris simply laughed and said, “I hope you don’t mind if I sit through one or two of your Jazz Band rehearsals. Jean has really told me a lot about your musical talent.”

Now I was really embarrassed. “Sure thing.”

Gym class followed music, which was followed by lunch.

Sherry and I shared the lunch period again this year, and I was happy when I saw that June also had lunch during this period. The three of us sat together, and it turned out that our table ended up being the “cheerleader table.”

June told everybody about our adventure at Purdue, including the concert that we put on.

“Kristen sings like an angel,” June said.

Sherry nodded, having heard Kristen play at our apartment. “I wish I could have seen that concert. Oogie and Kris must have sounded awesome together.”

“Archy was there, too!” June said.

Everybody laughed, but I noticed that a lot of cheerleaders had nodded when Sherry made her comment.

* * *

At the end of the school day, I met Merry in front of the school. I couldn’t find June, but Sherry came by and told me that June had to run an errand for her mother, and that Sherry would drive my sister and me to our homes.

Sherry dropped off Merry first, and then drove me to the Swift’s estate.

“I guess you didn’t record your concert,” Sherry said, a bit sadly.

“No,” I admitted. “I didn’t even think of doing that.”

Sherry was quiet most of the way back to Kristen’s. I noticed that she didn’t stop the car. “Do you want to come in?” I asked.

“Maybe some other time,” Sherry said. “I have homework, and I also need to do some chores around the house.”

“OK, Sherry,” I said, leaving the car.

Before Sherry pulled out, she opened the driver’s window and said, “When you make your first album, I’ll be your first customer!”

Chapter 39—Wild Weekend I

Well, I’m a runnin’ down the road,

Tryin’ to loosen my load,

Got a world of trouble on my mind.

Lookin’ for a lover who won’t blow my cover,

She’s so hard to find.

The Eagles

Take It Easy

On Friday, I talked with Mr. Proilet after band class.

“I have an idea for the talent show.”

Mr. Proilet looked a bit surprised. “An idea?”

That look made me feel a bit sheepish. “Well, I was originally thinking about entering the talent show this year. When I told Sherry, she told me that if I entered, nobody else would show up. I think she was probably exaggerating, but she did make me think about it.”

Mr. Proilet smiled. “It could be intimidating to others to know that you are on the schedule to perform. What’s the expression? ‘Nobody wants to follow Jimi Hendrix?’”

I protested that remark. “I don’t even play the guitar!”

“You were saying that you had an idea for the show,” my teacher said, bringing us back to the topic at hand. “Do you really want to perform?”

“Actually, I had an idea,” I said. “What if we donated the services of the jazz band for the people who wanted to perform?”

“Donate?”

“The big problem I’ve seen with school talent shows is that you get a few people playing the piano, or a few of the musicians in the band or orchestra playing duets and stuff like that. There are a few people doing other things, like juggling or even telling jokes, but the majority of them do musical things.”

“Uh, huh.”

“I remember in elementary school, kids used to mouth the words to songs on a record. I think we might be able to get a few people to do that again… but with a band behind them, so that instead of just mouthing the words, they’re really singing.”

Mr. Proilet was quiet for a few moments. “Wouldn’t that turn it from showcasing the talents of the students into showcasing the jazz band?”

“We could use the band as the glue to keep everything together. Put on a show like Ed Sullivan… you know.”

Mr. Proilet laughed. “Maybe that could work. I don’t remember you bringing this up at the rehearsal yesterday.”

“I didn’t,” I said. “I had the idea last night.”

“You may want to find out how the other members of the jazz band feel about you volunteering them.”

“Actually, I figured that I’d just ask for volunteers and see who does. We have quite a few people, and this would be a good way to find out who really has the drive to play as opposed to simply being a part of something that’s become popular.”

“Hmm, that’s a good idea,” Mr. Proilet said, pondering that thought. “Let me talk it over with Mr. Ryan and Ms. Kendall. I think they’ll love the idea of the jazz band getting involved.”

Those two people were the orchestra leader and the chorus instructor, respectively. They, along with Mr. Proilet, were running the talent show.

I nodded. “Thanks.”

I had some other ideas about the talent show, but I decided to keep them to myself for the time being.

* * *

I saw Sherry at lunch, and she didn’t seem as disturbed as she was yesterday. I did notice some looks exchanged between June and Sherry when they didn’t think I was looking.

Sitting in the cafeteria, I kept thinking about the previous school year when I had Patty and Kristen at lunch with me. I really missed those two very much.

“What’s on your mind, Jim?” June asked, breaking me out of my reverie.

“I was just thinking about last year.”

“You were frowning… does that mean you are missing Kristen?”

I think I must have blushed as June knew exactly what I was thinking. “Yeah.”

June pulled me toward her into a hug. “Poor Oogie.”

This generated some giggles from the other cheerleaders at the table.

“Thanks, Juicy,” I said to June, as I got up from the table.

“Juicy?” Sherry asked, confused.

“Ask June,” I said, suppressing a giggle myself. I wondered if June would actually tell Sherry about that nickname that, up until now, I had only used with her privately.

“Where are you going?” Sherry asked. “There’s still another half hour.”

“I’m going to one of the music practice rooms. I want to see if I can put together some music.”

I could feel the heat on my back as a bunch of female eyes watched me leave.

* * *

Mr. Proilet looked up from his desk as I walked into the music room. I simply smiled at him as I walked to one of the practice rooms and shut the door behind me. I started to play, from memory, the piano intro to the song that had been playing in my head for a day or so now.

I was so engrossed in what I was doing that I barely heard the bell signifying the end of the period. I had music sheets everywhere all over the room.

“Shit!” I said, grabbing all of the sheets and trying to get them in some semblance of order.

It was only after I got out of the practice room and saw the familiar people in the music room that I realized that my next period was Music Theory… I was already in the room that I needed to be in!

My teacher smiled at me and saw the stack of papers that were in my hand. “Getting a head start on classwork?”

“Um…” I looked sheepishly at the scores in my hand. “Yeah… I guess. I lost track of the time…”

Most of the room laughed at me, including my teacher.

Mr. Proilet nodded toward the practice room. “You can go back to what you were doing, Jim. I’ll have somebody let you know when there’s about five minutes before the bell. All right?”

“Um… thanks…”

I went back to the practice room and continued scoring and doodling on the piano. I made a mental note to talk with the Swifts—preferably Charlie—later this evening.

* * *

At the end of U.S. history, my last class of the day, I watched Sherry and the other students walk out of the room. I was about to go when I remembered a question that I wanted to ask my teacher.

“Mr. Stiles, do you have a few minutes to talk about something?”

The teacher looked at me and smiled. “Sure, Jim. What’s on your mind?”

“I have a general question about history and wondered if you could help me.”

Mr. Stiles raised his eyebrows and said, “Hmm. What’s the question?”

“Actually, there are a couple of questions. First, have you ever heard the expression, ‘With great power comes great responsibility?’” I recalled hearing Sherry use that expression the other day.

The teacher smiled. “Ah, Spiderman and the eternal loneliness of the super hero.”

Ah, yes! That’s where I heard it. I nodded to the teacher and decided to take an alternate track. “We’ve all heard the expression, ‘Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts, absolutely.’ Does history really bear this out?”

My history teacher looked at me a bit strangely. “Hitler had absolute power.”

I was ready for that particular example. After all, I’ve spent many sleepless nights considering the power of the tickets and the repercussions of them. “It can be argued that Hitler was corrupted before he came to power. He wrote ‘Mein Kampf’ when he was in prison.”

This impressed my teacher. “You have a good point there. Why are you asking these questions?”

“I was wondering if the expression is true. I mean, what if you had absolute power, but knew the expression and tried to avoid corruption?”

“Your question sounds like one that you’d hear in an intro philosophy course in college.”

I smiled. “I took some college courses, but not philosophy.”

“Ah, yes,” Mr. Stiles said, smiling. “Jean Proilet and his music courses.”

I nodded, not knowing what to say next.

My teacher looked at me thoughtfully. “I think history shows us that Peter Parker’s dilemma does bear out. For instance, we have Leonid Brezhnev and President Ford as the world leaders with the most power. Each one has to walk on eggshells to avoid insulting the other too much. At the same time, they both have to appear strong to their constituencies, but not scare the rest of the world into thinking that another world war is about to erupt.”

“I never thought about it like that.”

“How familiar are you with the British?”

“Huh?” I asked, a bit surprised by the question. “You mean England?”

“Yes. They are ruled by a prime minister. However, they also have a queen: Queen Elizabeth. She was crowned in 1953, and before that, she was called the Heir Presumptive.”

I interjected. “Presumptive? I’ve heard of the term ‘Heir Apparent.’”

My teacher smiled. “If her parents had a son after she was born, he would have been entitled ‘Heir to the Throne.’ The titles are specific and are taken very seriously in Great Britain.”

I nodded, not truly understanding the traditions and terminology.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Queen Elizabeth is the Queen of England, a position that is now relatively ceremonial. However, despite that, she has to act like a monarch at all times. When royalty visits her country, the official position is that they visit the Queen. In addition, the Queen has to give royal affirmation before any bill from parliament becomes law.”

I nodded, not quite understanding where my teacher was going with this.

“In reality, the Queen’s job is to remain neutral in political matters. The Queen signs all laws as a mere formality. The Queen and her family still act in public as they are expected to… something that we in the United States sometimes consider pompous. However, the nobility in Britain take their titles seriously. Her son Charles, the Duke of Cornwall, became the Prince of Wales in 1958, although the ceremony didn’t take place until 1969 at the age of twenty-one. He is the Heir Apparent to the British Throne.”

“OK…” I said slowly, very much confused.

“I’m sorry for rattling on about this. It’s one of my passions, actually. Anyway, there is a term that is applied to people of noble birth. I forget the person that coined the term, but it’s called ‘Noblesse Oblige’—the obligation of nobility to act according to a noble code of conduct, just like the ancient knights—acting for the good of all the people without regard to yourself.”

“Noblesse…?”

“Noblesse Oblige,” Mr. Stiles repeated. “It’s French, and means, literally, ‘Noble Obligation.’”

“Noblesse Oblige,” I said, trying out the expression.

“I was explaining about power before, and it occurred to me that in order to wield power properly, you need to use it selflessly. Let’s take you for example.”

This last statement startled me. “Um… me?”

“You, Mr. Crittenhouse,” Mr. Stiles said, smiling. “You are an extremely gifted and talented musician. Jean Proilet raved about you even while you were in junior high school. Last year when you took over the Jazz Band, you could have used it as a platform to show everybody think you were great. I’ve seen other students in similar situations do things like that. However, you allowed your fellow musicians take their solos, and made each member look great. I went to every one of your concerts, and to each performance of the school musical. Not once did you take a solo! You were just at the podium, letting every other student shine.”

As usual, such praise from a teacher started to embarrass me.

“Now do you see what I mean by the responsibilities of power?” Mr. Stiles asked.

“Huh?”

“Instead of shining the spotlight on yourself, which would have been easy, you instead shined that spotlight on your fellow students.” My history teacher put his hands together. “Everybody realized that it was you behind the scenes that was responsible for the spring concert. You were there arranging parts, helping your fellow students rehearse, and, if my information is correct, even helping an athlete learn to read music in just a few months. You may not have known the term ‘Noblesse Oblige,’ but you were living it.”

I didn’t know what to say in response.

My teacher didn’t wait for any comment from me. He said, “If anything, power incurs responsibility. If not, nature has a way of rectifying things. If a leader is powerful and does not act in a responsible way, the situation will eventually be rectified. In the example of Hitler, who did indeed experience close to absolute power in Europe, his irresponsible actions caused one of his country’s allies to change sides, forcing Germany to once again fight a world war on two fronts. This directly led to his downfall.”

There was some silence as my teacher allowed his words to sink in.

“Hmm,” I finally said. “I’ll need to think about that.”

“That’s never a bad idea. A teacher always likes to hear that his students want to think about something!”

The two of us laughed, and it broke the tension that started when my teacher was lavishing his praise on my talents. There was something embarrassing about having those kinds of things told to me by adults.

The time was getting late, so I thanked my teacher, and he surprised me by shaking my hand. “I’m glad we had this talk, Jim. If you ever want to talk, whether it be about history, the British monarchy, or just about life in general, feel free to find me and we’ll set up some time together.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stiles. I’ll do that.”

* * *

The school was mostly empty when I got out of the building. I saw June and Sherry standing over by June’s car, patiently waiting for me to arrive. I saw them and waved as I walked over toward them.

Before I could get to where the two girls were, I was apprehended from behind.

“Jim! Can I talk with you?”

It was Roy, one of my closest male friends. I glanced back at the parking lot and saw the two girls getting into June’s car.

I turned around and said, “Of course. What’s up?”

“I have a personal question to ask you.”

I instantly got the feeling of having done this the day before with Sherry. My mind instantly flashed an image of Roy under the influence of the tickets, but I quickly dispelled that idea from my head.

“Is there anything wrong?”

Roy looked around and pointed to a bench that was empty. We walked to the bench, and Roy said, “Your sister is going to have a birthday party in a few weeks.”

“Merry?” I asked. “Um, yeah. That’s right.”

“The cheerleaders want to do something special for her birthday, and they want to make sure that you are involved.”

“Of course,” I said, smiling. “Kristen and I threw her a nice party last year at the park.”

“I’ve been asked to see if we could throw her a party at your apartment.”

I was a bit surprised by the question. Why were the cheerleaders asking me through an intermediary—and why Roy?

The cheerleaders were known to go to parties on a regular basis, but aside from their initiations and special parties, they were usually pretty tame. Was Roy implying that Merry’s birthday party wouldn’t be tame?

“Like the Halloween party last year?” I asked, remembering the off-duty policemen Kristen had hired to ensure that the party wouldn’t be too rowdy.

“Yeah, like that,” Roy said.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, but I’ll run it by Lynnette and Kris when I see them.”

Roy smiled. “Thanks, Jim.”

“Oh, by the way, my own birthday is on Thursday. Kristen and Lynette have something special planned for me after school that day.”

Nodding, Roy said, “Yeah, I figured that.”

“I’m just telling you that because I may leave rehearsal early.”

“I think people will understand.”

I got up from the bench and shook Roy’s hand. “OK. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Roy’s expression changed for a fraction of a second before he said, “Yeah. Monday.”

* * *

June and Sherry were over by June’s car. They both smiled at me as I approached them.

“Hey, Oogie!” Sherry said.

“Hi, Sherry… June.”

June smiled. “Hey. Sherry’s mother gave her permission to stay with me over night tonight.”

“Oh?” I asked, pretending to be surprised.

“Would you mind if we use the Recovery Room tonight? Sherry’s never been in a water bed.”

The pronoun that June used made me uneasy. I turned to Sherry and asked, “Do you want to be with June tonight?”

Sherry shrugged and didn’t answer.

“I don’t see any problem if the two of you want to use the Recovery Room tonight. Of course, I’d have to ask Kris and Lynette…”

“They don’t mind!” June said, hurriedly.

This confirmed my suspicion. “Then I guess it’s a done deal.”

Sherry smiled and started to get into the passenger seat. Just as I was about to get in, I saw June’s eyes narrowing at me. I don’t think she expected me to accept the idea of Sherry spending the night so easily.

After I got into the car, I turned to Sherry in the back and nodded at her gym bag. “Is that your overnight stuff?”

“Yeah,” Sherry said, sounding a little bit nervous.

I decided to take it easy with Sherry. After all, she wasn’t completely under control of the reasons that she wanted to be with me today.

June started the car, and gave me another quick look before backing out of her parking spot and headed toward the house.

Well, since June wasn’t going to level with me about Sherry, I wasn’t going to let her know that I was in on the secret.

When we got to the apartment, I excused myself from the girls and instead headed for the main residence. Harry greeted me at the door.

“What’s up, Jim?”

“Are Charlie or Daniel in?”

“Mrs. Swift is in the living room. Should I announce you?”

“No need for formalities unless she’s entertaining.”

Harry smiled. “She has guests. She’s planning one of her charity events.”

“Could you let her know that I would like to borrow something?”

“May I tell her what you need?”

“A record.” I told Harry exactly which one and he shrugged and left me in the foyer as he went to tell Charlie my request.

In about a minute, Harry returned with the requested album.

“Thanks, Harry! Tell Charlie I thanked her, too!”

“Of course, Jim.”

I left the residence and got back to the apartment. I took the album into the music studio. I had some cassette tapes that I wanted to integrate into a recording and this record was going to help. To get the cassettes onto the open reel tapes meant that I was going to have to reverse the hookups between the cassette and the four track. I knew from experience that recording from tape to tape added noise, but I hoped that the added noise wouldn’t detract from my recording.

I knew that I was going to need a good saxophone player to help me with some of the instrumental parts. There was an instrumental bridge in the song that was mostly a duet between a saxophone and trombone. I could play both instruments all right, but between the two of them, I really preferred the trombone. Then there was also a heavy bass riff on the piece. I was lost in thought trying to figure out who was in the band that I could enlist in this duet. Despite the fact I could play both parts, there was a give and take that two live performers could do that really couldn’t be duplicated by recording the parts separate.

As I was thinking about these things, I looked up and saw the signal light blinking. I went over to the intercom and said, “Jim here. Who’s that knocking at my door?”

There was a chuckle over the intercom in response and I recognized June’s voice. “Twelve minutes, Jim!”

“Sorry, Baby,” I said, truly sorry that I hadn’t noticed how long the signal was flashing. “I was working on a difficult track.”

“Can I visit?” June asked.

I wanted to increase the pressure on June just slightly. “Alone?”

June’s response was delayed. I think she knew that I implied that she had ulterior motives, and the subject of those motives were Sherry, who she invited for the night.

“Um, yes. Of course.”

“Give me five minutes to finish this track up. The DND light will go off when I’m done.”

“Uh… sure. Thanks.”

I heard the intercom click off. I wondered if I was being unfair to June, who probably thought she was doing me a favor.

Of all my paramours, June and Lynette had no idea about the tickets. I wanted them both to remain that way because I didn’t know how they’d react to the tickets. In addition, I was pretty sure that June was never under the influence of the tickets, something that Kristen, Lynette, Camille, or Patty couldn’t say. This sort of made June special in my eyes.

That being said, however, June was still well aware about the danger that Sherry posed toward Kristen and me… and even Lynette. I expected June to have more allegiance to us than to so casually put Sherry in between us.

I put Charlie’s record and my tapes away. I had a lot of work to do on this particular song, and I was thinking of maybe getting a recording of it by my birthday. I already made up my mind that maudlin was out, remembering Lynette’s reaction to my recording of Sea of Love a week or so before. In addition, I wanted to put in a bit of humor to avoid any emotional overload that my recording might cause.

Thinking about a special recording also made me remember June using my equipment to record me when I admitted privately to her how much Lynette meant to me when I thought I had lost Lynette for good.

It was obvious that June wasn’t naive at all, and my actions regarding Sherry and her must have triggered some alarm in her head.

The moment I turned off the DND light, there was a soft knock at the door to the studio. I opened the door and invited June in.

“What’s up, Baby?” I asked.

June locked eyes with mine. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

“Oh?” I asked, feigning innocence.

After a few moments, June finally lowered her glaze. “You’re angry at me, aren’t you?”

“What gives you that idea?”

Again, June stared at me. After another few moments, she sighed. “I should have known at lunch, when you called me ‘Juicy.’”

I cocked my head at the lovely cheerleader. “I thought we had a relationship based on trust.”

Once again June lowered her eyes. “Sherry has become sort of a friend.”

“You can only have one friend in your life?”

June’s answer was a simple shake of her head.

“Do you think I’m angry at you, June?”

No answer.

I waited patiently for an answer, and repeated my question when it was clear that June wasn’t going to answer.

“I… I’m not sure. You aren’t happy.”

“Actually, I’m quite happy that Sherry is here.”

This surprised June considerably. “Huh?”

“Sherry became a friend to me a long time ago—even before you and I became friends.”

“I know…”

“I’m simply hurt that you asked Kristen and Lynette and didn’t bother asking me until Sherry was already with you with her overnight bag.”

June nodded and I turned around to sit on the bench for my keyboard setup.

June’s voice as quite soft as she said, “I’m sorry, Oogie. I didn’t consider your feelings.”

“Despite the fact that I don’t mind Sherry sleeping over—with you, not me!—you could have put me in a difficult situation if I didn’t want her here. Do you think I would say ‘no’ to her face? Was that what you were counting on?”

“I don’t know… No! That’s not true. It’s just that… I mean…”

I started playing the rundown of the song from Charlie’s album, working from memory. Despite the fact that I hadn’t played Charlie’s record, I didn’t think I was playing the rundown in the right key, so I stopped and played it a half stop down. That sounded closer, but without hearing the original song, all I could do is guess.

I idly wondered if I would be able to score this song for the jazz band instead of recording it myself. Unfortunately, it required a single vocalist and despite the fact that it was a great swing number, it was more of a feature song for a singer and a couple of musicians, not really a full band.

“Jim?”

“Huh?” I asked. I had gotten so engrossed in getting the rundown correct that I almost forgot June was with me. “I’m sorry.”

“I was saying… Lynette and Sherry are pretty close, but it seems like Kristen and you keep Sherry at arm’s distance. I know how she feels about you, but she assured me…”

The rundown was coming automatic to me. “June, at one time Sherry was probably the one person that could drive a wedge between Kristen and me. I have no intention of giving up Kristen despite how much I like Sherry.”

“But Sherry…”

“Let me finish, Baby,” I said softly. “As I said, she could have done so, but instead she helped Kristen and me get over a silly fight and Kris and I are much closer now thanks to Sherry. I think that when Sherry did that, she gave up trying to cause problems.”

“She says she is happy to be your friend.”

“I know that,” I said, stopping my playing now and softly pulling June to sit down next to me. June came along freely and we both shared the small padded bench. I pulled June even closer into a hug.

“I’m really sorry, Jim.”

“I know. For your information, Sherry was here yesterday afternoon. I figured that you’d try to get Sherry here today.”

This was a bit of a lie. As I mentioned earlier, I didn’t want June to even suspect anything about the tickets. I could have told June the truth: that Sherry told me. However, if June checked with Sherry later, I knew that Sherry wouldn’t have any memory of telling me about June’s invitation. This would lead to complicated questions.

“I’ll be honest with you from now on, Oogie.”

“That’s all I want, Baby.”

“What’s that song you were playing? It sounds vaguely familiar.”

“Are you familiar with 1950s swing music?”

June’s response was a grimace. “I don’t think so. Archy might be.”

I laughed. “I was thinking of recording this myself, but I’d need a few more instruments. I’ve decided that it’s not really a good number for the jazz band, either.”

“Oh.”

I played the rundown again. I saw June’s head start to nod with the beat.

June finally remarked, “It’s got what Archy calls a heavy back beat.”

“It’s a vamp… it’s a technique borrowed from jazz where you play the same chord progression continuously.”

“I think I got it. You did something like that with that fisherman song.”

The two of us laughed. “Yeah. That was a vamp with different players taking solos until Merry came on and sang the words.”

I ran the chord progression to a minor key and then did a segue to a real jazz number called Satin Doll, made famous by Duke Ellington. This was a song I liked to play on the trumpet, but I was reasonably competent playing it on the piano.

“I know that one,” June said, smiling.

“Satin Doll,” I said automatically.

“Are there words for that one?”

“Yeah, but I’m not familiar with them.” I did a repeat of the first verse and sang the part I knew.

“… Out cattin’ that Satin Doll…”

I continued playing the song again, and when it was clear that those were the only words of the song that I knew, June started to laugh.

“I like that middle part.”

“Yeah,” I said, continuing to play. “It’s kind of famous.”

“Is that swing, too?”

“Jazz. I heard Archy’s uncle play that song in Chicago once when I was younger.”

“Are you thinking of recording that song? Archy might like that one if his uncle performed it.”

I tried to figure the logistics for that song. Unlike the rundown I played before, this particular song was well suited for the jazz band. “Perhaps,” I said, smiling at my lovely friend. “Would Archy think that I’m trying to compare myself with his uncle?”

June seemed surprised that I’d even think that. “Of course not!”

I became aware of a knock on the door. Instinctively, I turned around and glared at the DND switch, but I saw that it was off. I forgot to turn it back on when June came in before.

June saw my reaction, and jumped off the bench and went to the door.

It was Sherry.

“I’m sorry, I was wondering when June would be coming out. I didn’t mean to interrupt…”

I shook my head. “That’s all right, Sherry. The DND light wasn’t on.”

“Oogie forgot to turn it on, but he wasn’t recording.”

I didn’t mention to June that I wasn’t always recording when that light was on, but I didn’t think it was pertinent.

“Want to come inside, Sherry?”

Sherry looked at June before she answered me. “Sure.”

With Sherry in the studio, June acted a bit different. “Can you play Girl From Ipanema for Sherry?”

I shrugged and immediately played the intro, using the same key that I had used when I played in Purdue.

Of course, this was a singing number, although I could also do it as an instrumental. However, I think I knew what was June’s intentions were.

Sherry had sounded a bit wistful when she heard that Kristen and I did a lounge act in Indiana, and I think June was going to give Sherry a taste of what I sounded like at the time.

The keyboard and guitars from the trip hadn’t been set up in the studio yet, although I had already hooked up one of the new amplifiers to the mini organ. Despite that, the truth of the matter was that I was most comfortable using the older equipment that was already set up.

I looked at the two girls from time to time as I sang the song. A lot of the time, Sherry had her eyes closed, almost as if she was imagining herself in that lounge during our performance.

At the end of the number, the two girls broke out in applause. I gave a tiny bow while still seated on my bench.

I moved my bench to where my electric piano was set up. “Could you guys give me a hand? I want to replace this keyboard with the one standing up on the side of the room over there.” I pointed to the new Yamaha keyboard, which had a voice I wanted for my next number.

The girls let me disconnect the wires from my old keyboard and pick it up before they took it and placed it next to the new one. Then they brought the new one over.

Of course, the new keyboard required a different power cord, and a special adapter to fit my old amplifier. However, I found that it was easy enough to simply use the connector for the mini organ.

I played a few notes and fiddled with the gain on the amplifier to get the right volume. Finally, I played the introduction to Elton John’s Crocodile Rock.

Both girls smiled as they recognized the famous song.

I remember when rock was young,

Me and Susie had so much fun.

Holding hands and skimming stones...

Had an old gold Chevy and a place of my own.

But the biggest kick I ever got,

Was doing a thing called the Crocodile Rock.

While the other kids were Rocking Round the Clock

We were hopping and bopping to the Crocodile Rock!

Well Crocodile Rocking is something shocking,

When your feet just can’t keep still.

I never knew me a better time

And I guess I never will.

Oh Lordy mama, those Friday nights!

When Susie wore her dresses tight,

And the Crocodile Rocking was out of sight...

As I was singing this, I remembered Kristen’s excellent bass accompaniment at Purdue. In my mind I could still hear her playing a near perfect walking bass line to the song.

June started laughing as I sang the “Nah-nah-nah” parts, breaking me out of my reverie, and which also broke Sherry up. Even I started to laugh and I ended the song.

“You have a great gift,” Sherry said, still giggling. “Your voice almost sounds just like Elton’s.”

June nodded her head in agreement.

I realized that this keyboard, with the setting that still had the masking tape marked “Eerie” would be perfect for a song that I had tried recording a couple of weeks earlier.

“Would you girls like to hear me accompany myself using the tape deck?”

Both girls’ faces lit up. “YEAH!” they said together.

“One second…”

I went to my tape drawer and it took me a couple of minutes to locate the one I started. I had some notes on paper that said cryptically “134 / X1 Vocal / X3 trumpet / 4 Piano.” This meant that I had three of the tracks recorded, but I wasn’t satisfied with tracks one (vocal) and three (a stupid attempt at using the trumpet to do a rundown, which didn’t fit at all).

I threaded the tape onto the open reel and patched my microphone to track one, and the Yamaha into track three.

As a test, I played a C-minor arpeggio on the highest end of the keyboard and found that the sound wasn’t perfect, but it was better than any other keyboard setting that I had tried in the past.

I turned to the girls and warned them to be quiet as I was going to be recording this particular song.

“Which song is this one?” Sherry asked.

“You’ll find out,” I said, grinning.

“Did you play this one at Purdue?” Sherry asked.

“No,” I admitted. “I think you’ll like it, anyway.”

Sherry nodded.

I turned on the tape and quickly got back to my bench.

The piano track played the intro, and I started singing:

As I walk along,

I wonder

What went wrong,

With our love,

A love that was so strong.

And as I still walk on,

I think of

The things we’ve done

Together, while our hearts were young.

I’m a-walkin’ in the rain,

Tears are fallin’ and I feel the pain.

Wishin’ you were here by me,

To end this misery!

And I wonder...

I wah-wah-wah-wah-wonder,

Why?

Why, why, why, why, why

She ran away.

Yes, and I wonder,

Where she will stay-ay-ay,

My little runaway,

Run, run, run, run, runaway.

At this point in the song, I played the famous rundown on the new keyboard. It wasn’t a perfect match for the version on Del Shannon’s Runaway, but it sounded pretty good to my ears. It was much, much better than the stupid trumpet attempt I made earlier.

I sang the rest of the song, occasionally looking back at the two girls, who were looking at me in awe. I’ve seen this look from both girls at different times, but this was the first time I saw them share it together.

After I completed the song, I put my finger to my lips to let the girls know that they should be quiet so I could end the recording. It was a good thing, too: June looked as if she was about to clap!

I stopped the tape and rewound it. I subjected the two girls to a repeat as I listened to the two new parts with a critical ear, trying to pick out any imperfections. I was surprised when I found that my performance was pretty good; I didn’t flinch at all during the playback!

“That was great! You sounded like what’s his name?”

“Del Shannon,” I answered automatically.

“How do you do that? Change your voice like that?” June asked.

“You know Roy, right?”

Both girls nodded.

“I taught him how to read chorale music in junior high, and in return, he taught me how to sing better. I never liked hearing my own voice when I played back recordings, so he taught me what he knew of imitating other people’s singing styles. He’s a much better singer than I am—he can even imitate Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra.”

Sherry shrugged. “He doesn’t sing and play at the same time.”

“I didn’t play much on that particular recording,” I pointed out. “Just the rundown after the chorus.”

“And during the last chorus, too,” Sherry said. She wasn’t going to let me convince her that I wasn’t the greatest singer in the entire world.

I conceded the point to Sherry. I knew it was fruitless to argue with her (or anybody, for that matter) about my talents.

I was saved by the bell, though. Well, the flashing of the intercom light.

“Oogie Woogie here with my groupies,” I said, pushing the button on the intercom.

The two girls giggled.

There wasn’t an immediate response from the intercom. This was strange.

It took about a minute for somebody to answer.

“Fifteen minutes, Oogie,” Lynette said, breathlessly and giggling.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“Over in the play room losing to Kristen.”

I knew what this meant, and I said, diplomatically. “Sherry and June are with me here in the studio. Maybe we could meet the two of you in a few minutes.”

As Lynette pushed the intercom button, I could hear Kristen’s golden laugh in the background. “Um, yeah. A couple of minutes would be fine.”

I turned off the intercom, chuckling to myself. I turned and saw June chuckling as well. Sherry looked confused.

“Lynette needs to get decent. You know how Kristen plays pool. She doesn’t gamble with money anymore.”

Sherry still had a blank look on her face.

“Kristen and Lynette play for higher stakes,” June suggested to Sherry.

Suddenly, the light dawned in Sherry’s eyes. She blushed wonderfully and June and I laughed with her.

We waited the requested couple of minutes before leaving the studio.

Chapter 40—Wild Weekend II

No, I can’t forget tomorrow,

When I think of all my sorrows,

When I had you there but then I let you go.

And now it’s only fair

That I should let you know

What you should know...

Harry Nilsson

Without You

We didn’t do much Friday night. Kristen suggested we order take-out Chinese and she passed an order to the main house to have somebody pick it up for us. Harry arrived about forty-five minutes later, our meals in those white cardboard cartons.

Lynette and Kristen drank white wine; Sherry and June drank Tab, and I had some iced tea with mint leaves that Lynette made the previous day.

I excused myself after dinner and went back to my studio to listen to the album that I borrowed from the Swifts. My intention was to try to figure out a suitable arrangement for the song I was interested in that would do it justice.

I was only interrupted once in the studio: Kristen asked me what time I was going to bed, and I told her that I intended to be there by midnight.

I spent the rest of the night working on my arrangement and then picked up an open reel tape with a song of my own composition on it that I wanted to complete before Thursday.

Midnight came and went, and when I realized the time, it was past two o’clock in the morning.

I put my music away and walked out of the studio. The door to the recovery room was closed, indicating that it was occupied. I realized that I hadn’t said good-night to the girls and regretted spending so much time in the studio.

* * *

I woke the next morning to Lynette sucking me off.

Usually, this was Kristen’s job, but apparently the two girls had made different arrangements in my absence the previous evening. I looked past Lynette and saw that she had both legs spread out in a split with Kristen’s body underneath her.

I couldn’t see the girl on girl action, but my dick was already pretty hard from Lynette’s intense sucking. I reached down and caressed Lynette’s head in a loving manner to let her know that I was awake.

Lynette moaned, sending thrilling tremors through the shaft of my organ, bringing me very close to orgasm. I tried to will myself not to come, but Lynette was too talented. It was obvious that Kristen had ordered her to suck me off quickly and she was putting her entire self into the act.

I achieved my release much quicker than I wanted, and pumped into Lynette’s sucking mouth. After a few strong bursts, Lynette pulled off me and immediately attacked Kristen’s face, depositing my sperm into my beloved’s hungry mouth.

I was too spent to do much more than look for a few moments before shaking my head and dragging my ass out of bed. Lynette and Kristen were still playing around, kissing each other ferociously. I left them to their own devices as I entered the master bathroom.

As I was taking my shower, I heard somebody come into the bathroom.

A few seconds later, Kristen entered the tub. “Can you wash my hair?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” I soaked Kristen’s beautiful hair and then put a generous amount in her shampoo onto it.

Kristen’s shampoo (both lather and rinse cycles) took about fifteen minutes. I heard the toilet flush and realized that Lynette was in the bathroom as well.

I hopped out of the shower, grabbing one of the large towels, and nodded to Lynette, indicating that she should join Kristen.

Lynette smiled at me, and got into the tub. I could hear the two girls squealing together as they worked very hard to clean themselves up. Of course, Kristen was already squeaky clean all over her body, but Lynette would be the final arbiter of that.

Back in the bedroom, I pulled on a black pair of slacks and saw a couple of new shirts in my dresser drawer. I decided upon a burgundy shirt and looked at myself in the mirror.

My hair was still wet and very unkempt. I found a rat-tail comb on the dresser (one of Lynette’s), and tried to get the majority of the knots out. I wasn’t completely successful, and I knew that either Kristen or Lynette would insist on running a brush through my hair to get it perfect to their way of thinking.

I could hear hair dryers in the bathroom, indicating to me that the girls had left the shower. I dawdled for a bit, and finally walked out of the bedroom.

I was surprised by the presence of Sherry in the dining room, and the smell of blueberry pancakes coming from the kitchen. “Ooh, my favorite!” I announced to June in the kitchen.

“It sounded like you were still busy in the bedroom,” June said as she came out of the kitchen with a smirk.

“Wasn’t me for the last twenty minutes, Juicy!”

June blushed slightly at the mention of her nickname, as did Sherry. I wondered if June actually told Sherry how she got that nickname.

Kristen and Lynette surprised me by coming out of the bedroom about five minutes after I did. I was used to the two of them taking close to a half hour just to dress, but the two of them came out wearing sun dresses that were identical except for color that I remembered Kristen bought when she admired Patty’s favorite dress style a year earlier. Both girls’ wore their hair straight and long past their shoulders.

My mind flashed back a year or so ago when Patty and Kristen were dressed like twin sisters. However, with Lynette and Kristen with their similar builds and hair styles, the effect was even more striking. Both June and Sherry noticed their outfits.

“You guys look great!” June said as the girls came out of the bedroom.

The two girls took the compliment in stride.

“Good morning, Sherry,” Kristen said, smiling at June’s guest.

“Hi, Kris.”

“How was the recovery room?”

“I never slept in a water bed before,” Sherry answered. “It was a bit weird, but it turned out very comfortable.”

I nodded, remembering the smell of vinyl that took a little getting used to the first time I used that room myself.

Kristen looked at June and said, “June picked out the color patterns for that room.”

“It’s nice,” Sherry said, smiling. “It even has some of Jim’s clothes in it, including his costume.”

“Costume?” Kristen asked. She was unaware of my greaser outfit.

Sherry looked at me as if she had violated a taboo, but I smiled at her. “Just a few props for a song, sweetness.”

“You’re getting secretive in that studio of yours, mister!”

“Well, if you want to help out, I can use a bass to do a fairly standard riff.”

“Sure thing… oh, wait! Maybe tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I asked, confused.

“We have a guest, darling,” Kristen pointed out. “It’s not nice for you to disappear for hours at a time with your music.”

Sherry immediately protested. “Kristen, that’s really not a prob—…”

“Hush, Sherry,” Kristen said. “I’m just reminding Jim who the host is around here. This is his apartment, after all.”

I nodded, a bit sheepishly.

June came out of the kitchen with five plates of pancakes, balancing them like a waitress in one of those diners you see in the movies. “Breakfast is served.”

“Yum!” I said, grateful the topic had turned away from me being a bad host last night.

Lynette looked at the set up on the dining room table, and without saying a word, she went into the kitchen and quickly returned with an unopened bottle of the expensive wild blueberry syrup that we were building up a nice stock of in our pantry.

“I didn’t know where you guys kept that,” June said, smiling. “I looked all over.”

“Back of the pantry on top,” Lynette said. “It’s Kristen’s favorite—her mother has it sent in from a place in Maine.”

“Bar Harbor,” Kristen said, automatically.

I had no idea where Bar Harbor or any town in Maine was, so I didn’t comment. Kristen’s family did a lot more traveling than my family ever did; in the year since I started dating Kristen, I had probably traveled further and more often than I had in the previous fifteen years of my life, and that wasn’t much compared to Kristen!

“What’s the plan for today?” I asked.

“June and I have practice later today,” Sherry said. “Lynette was thinking of helping out.”

I noticed that Lynette’s reaction to this information was to immediately look for permission in Kristen’s eyes and she smiled when she immediately received Kristen’s silent blessing.

“That leaves the two of us, Kris.”

Kristen smiled at me.

I smirked at Kristen. “That means that I’ll be able to lay down that bass track today after all.”

Sherry and June laughed at my response, and Kristen and Lynette joined them.

“Jim has a one-track mind when it comes to music,” Sherry said, giggling.

June giggled and added, “I think he calls it a four track in his studio. Anyway, he’s unlike most boys his age, who have one-track minds focused on something else.”

I felt a bit embarrassed at this. “What’s wrong with playing music? What’s it that Mac Davis sings? ‘Music is the universal language, and love is the key.’ Right?”

Sherry came to my rescue. “That’s right, Oogie. Everybody loves you for your music. We’re just having fun with you.”

Lynette furrowed her brow, and then got up from her chair and quickly left to the spare bedroom. She returned a few seconds later with a light brown wig with short, frizzy hair—almost an Afro-style.

“Where did you get that?” June asked.

Kristen answered. “Lynette has, like, five or six wigs. She’s always liked them, but she only seems to wear them…” Kristen suddenly stopped.

I think I knew why Kristen stopped. Lynette usually wore her wigs when she was alone with Kristen in the spare bedroom. When June wasn’t around, the girls never closed their bedroom door when they were together and I had seen Lynette dressed up in wigs and costumes when they were playing together.

Lynette didn’t blush, but proceeded to put the wig onto my head. “There. Now he looks like Mac Davis. He even has that funny nose!”

“Hey!” I protested, sensitive about my looks.

“Do his voice, Oogie,” Lynette begged.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine Mac Davis’ voice. I tried to make it a bit nasal, and tried a few lines:

I could sit around making music

All day long...

This sounded a bit too nasal, so I ended up doing the song more or less in my own voice.

As long as I’m making my music

I ain’t gonna do nobody no harm.

“Wow, that’s eerie!” June suddenly said, interrupting me.

“Yeah,” Sherry said.

Even my beloved Kristen was looking at me, a bit shocked. “I was always trying to place who your natural voice sounded like.”

Lynette didn’t say anything, but was nodding in agreement.

I was a bit confused until June said what everybody else had been thinking. “Jim sounds like Mac Davis!”

“Huh?” I shook my head. “His voice is more nasal than mine!”

“No it’s not,” Kristen said, shaking her head. “When you made your voice nasal, it didn’t sound like him at all. When you relaxed and used your own voice, it sounds just like his.”

“You guys are crazy!” I protested, shaking my head vigorously.

Everybody except me seemed to be in agreement, however.

I stewed over this quietly and let my so-called friends continue to talk about my voice sounding like that of a country-western singer.

After a couple of minutes of good natured ribbing, Lynette touched Kristen’s arm and then nodded at me. Kristen and the others got Lynette’s message and the subject was mercifully changed.

* * *

Later that day, after the three cheerleaders had left to go to pick up my sister on the way to practice, Kristen joined me in the music studio.

Kristen was strumming her guitar as she watched me play with the patch cords that led to the open reel and the cassette tape decks.

“You need a mixer,” Kristen said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “We’ve never seen good ones in the second hand shops, though.”

Kristen put down her guitar and left the studio for a moment. She returned less than a minute later.

“Where did you go?” I asked.

“I needed to fetch something.”

I looked at Kristen, and only saw a guitar pick in her hand. “A pick?”

Kristen smiled. “Nah. A surprise.” She picked up her guitar and started picking a song, stopping a few times to tighten or loosen her strings slightly to get her guitar in perfect tune. I soon recognized the song as Don MacLean’s Vincent, which I remembered Kristen playing at the music store in Indiana.

“You played that at the store,” I pointed out.

“I use it to warm up. It was the first song I ever picked out on my own, and I like to play it.”

I listened to Kristen play that song. After she played the chorus, she started to repeat the verse. I started singing along.

Starry, starry night,

Flaming flowers that brightly blaze.

Swirling clouds in violet haze,

Reflect in Vincent’s eyes of China blue.

Colors changing hue,

Morning field of amber grain,

Weathered faces lined in pain,

Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand.

My lovely blonde Goddess smiled as she realized that I knew the words to that song. Heck, I had just about memorized that entire album when American Pie came out. Based on what people told me about the title track, I even started looking into Buddy Holly records at the time.

I continued to sing, and Kristen joined me by singing a harmony line on the second chorus:

Now I understand,

What you tried to say to me.

How you suffered for your sanity.

How you tried to set them free.

They would not listen,

They did not know how.

Perhaps they’ll listen now.

Kristen stopped playing at this point. “Do you ever feel like that, Jim?”

“Like what?” To me, Vincent was simply a song. A very pretty one, but it was just a song.

“Like people are sometimes too stupid to listen to you?”

“No.”

“You don’t feel like you’re misunderstood?”

“When I was younger,” I admitted. “My father was a bully, but I always had my mother. I don’t feel like that so much nowadays.”

Kristen shook her head. “When I first heard that song, I asked Daddy if he could get me a reproduction of that picture.”

“What picture?” I asked, completely confused.

“Starry, Starry, Night. The picture mentioned in the song.”

“The song’s about a picture?” I asked. This was news to me.

Kristen looked at me, surprised. “Do you know anything about that song?”

“Somebody once told me it was about Vincent Van Gogh… a painter, right?”

Kristen shook her head. “It’s pronounced ‘Van Gogh.’” Kristen pronounced the last part the way it would be pronounced in Dutch, with a back-of-the-throat guttural sound at the end. “You don’t know what the song’s about?”

I decided to admit my stupidity. “I originally thought that he was singing about a friend. Then somebody told me it was about an artist, which sort of explained all the color visualizations in the song. I was never sure what to make about the song, actually.”

“It’s a short song but it is all about the life of Vincent Van Gogh. How he was misunderstood his entire life. He was broke when he died, and nowadays his paintings sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars—money the painter never saw.”

“Starry, Starry Night was the name of one of his pictures?”

“You’ve been in my room. The picture is on the wall.”

I tried to remember the picture that Kristen had hanging over one of her dressers. I remembered a picture with a lot of swirls on it. “The one with the yellow circles?”

Kristen shook her head at me. “Yeah. That’s the picture that the song is about.”

I decided it wasn’t a good idea for me to admit that I had thought that particular picture was one that Kristen might have painted herself when she was younger. It never occurred to me that it was a reproduction of a painting by a famous artist!

“I’ll have to check it out the next time I’m in the main house.”

Kristen again shook her head at my naiveté. “I used to lay in my bed strumming that song on my guitar and sing that song over and over. Nobody except Will ever understood me. Daddy and Mommy try, but they never really know what goes on inside my head. That picture and that song seemed to describe my own life.”

This was a revelation from Kristen that I never heard before. I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Oh,” I finally uttered.

Kristen closed her eyes. “I felt that way most of my life. The only time I felt differently was when I was with my parents or when I was upstairs in the apartment playing games with Will. I really felt that nobody liked me… not even the people that I hung out with.”

I remembered Kristen’s circle of bitchy friends that, if memory served correctly, included Patrice and even Lynette. Had it just been a year ago that Kristen was such a different person?

“Do you still feel that way, Kris?” I asked, softly.

Kristen started to shake her head, but stopped.

“It was after I met you… and what you did to me. Patty came over to my house. I was so embarrassed at what happened over Wendy’s house that I didn’t want to talk with her, but she was insistent. I decided to let her come over, and we talked. I think we talked for a couple of hours. I showed her my play room, and she took one look and told me how lonely it was in here. It was as if she could just feel the loneliness that I felt. Then she told me about her past, and somehow, the subject got changed to you.”

Somehow, I knew that this had happened, but neither Patty nor Kristen had told me anything about it up until now.

After a few moments, Kristen continued. She wasn’t looking at me, though. “I told Patty how much I hated you, and that I wanted to kill you. I told her what really happened after I left Wendy’s house that first day… about how I couldn’t contact my brother, which was a first for us. Somehow, I felt that I could tell Patty everything. I even told her that I wanted to kill you, but I couldn’t.”

“You wanted to kill me?” I asked. This was news to me.

“I wanted to cut your balls off with a butter knife and force feed them down your fucking throat, Jim.”

The vehemence in Kristen’s voice startled me. I could see a look of pure hatred in her eyes.

“You were the personification of every person in the world that I ever hated. I told this to Patty… and more! I played out scenes of killing you that I thought would scare Patty, but she didn’t get scared. She just listened.”

The image that Kristen was painting was very frightening. “You wanted to kill me?” I repeated.

Kristen didn’t answer me. Instead, she continued. “Patty listened to me as I ranted and raved all about you. And then when I finally stopped to catch my breath, Patty made a single comment.”

Kristen paused, waiting for me to ask the obvious question.

“What did she say?” I finally asked.

“She said, ‘If you kill Jim, you’ll be an addict without any way to feed your hunger.’”

“Patty said that?” I asked. Not only was I hearing once again that Kristen didn’t love me and that she wanted to kill me, but now that my dear friend Patty insinuated something very nasty about me! This was amazing. I was too shocked to say anything.

“Patty’s very observant,” Kristen said, nodding. “It was like she knew what I felt, and she pointed out to me that anything I did to hurt you would end up hurting me. It made me hate you even more! I’ve never hated anybody in my life like I hated you the moment that became crystal clear to me.”

This news was very disturbing! “Hate?”

“Hate, Jim. After what Patty said, it hit me that she was right. If I killed you, I’d be a junkie without a fix. It was then that I was considering…”

Kristen suddenly stopped. She was still not looking at me.

From the tone of Kristen’s voice, I finally realized where Kristen was headed. Softly, I said, “You were going to kill me and then kill yourself?”

Kristen didn’t answer, but slowly nodded.

I was shocked, but I was still curious. “What did Patty say about that?”

“Patty let me rant on and on, and didn’t really say much at all, but simply nodded at me from time to time. Finally, I was tired of shouting and ranting. When I went to catch my breath, Patty told me a personal story.”

“Her rape?” I asked.

Kristen finally looked at me. “Yeah. She told me that she told you about it… you were the first person she told. But she told me about what the guy did, and how she felt afterward. She had never been betrayed like that before, and it almost made her lose faith in other people. For a year and a half, she lived a lie… she never told people what happened, even her best friend. She wanted to get even with the guy who did it… she felt much the same way that I did.”

I nodded. I had heard Patty’s story, although I had a feeling that Patty would be more open to discuss the details of her rape with another female who had a similar experience. I was still in a state of shock hearing about how Kristen truly felt about me.

Kristen continued. “Then she told me that it was you—of all people, the guy that did this to me!—that did something to her that made her realize that what she had been feeling was all wrong. She told me that you could make people do things that you wanted, and that a side-effect of what you did to her made her realize that the boy who raped her didn’t—couldn’t!—take away her sexuality, her femininity. We ended up talking for a long time.”

I waited for more from Kristen but there was nothing else forthcoming. I looked in Kristen’s tear-streaked eyes, and didn’t see the hatred that I saw in them just a few minutes ago.

“And you still hate me?” I finally asked.

“No.”

“You said the other day…”

“I said that Sherry loved you. I didn’t mean to imply that I didn’t, but when I realized what I said, it brought back the memories of that day with Patty. I felt guilty because I never told you that before.”

“Oh.”

I wasn’t entirely convinced, and there were lots of questions in my mind—questions I felt should wait for another day.

Kristen’s voice got even lower. “Patty did something strange that day.”

“Huh?”

“She said, ‘Can I try to make things better for you?’ I said, ‘Yeah, right.’ Like she can fix this addiction problem, right? Anyway, she comes over to me all of a sudden and pulls me very close and kisses me. It was totally unexpected, and I tried to pull away from her, but she had me pretty tight. After a few minutes she finally stopped.”

“Patty kissed you?”

Kristen didn’t answer my question but continued. “She asked me if I felt any different, and I asked, ‘You mean, do I still feel the addiction?’ and she nodded. I told her I did. She closed her eyes for a few moments and then said, ‘I’m sorry. The only person that can probably fix this is Jim.”

“Me?” I asked. “Ha! I tried and it didn’t work!”

Kristen ignored my outburst and continued her story. “Patty then turned to me and asked me, bluntly, how I felt about you. I was about to say that I still wanted to kill you, but then I stopped. Somehow, something did change!”

“What changed?”

“Well, it was like Patty thought she could kiss me and make the addiction go away. I mean, that’s nonsense, right? But Patty really thought that… she really believed it!”

“Yeah…?”

“Anyway, after that kiss, it was like, all that anger and hatred that I had was no longer there. I mean, I could still remember feeling that way, and I knew why I did, but the emotions were just memories… they weren’t… I don’t know. How do I describe it? They weren’t in the here and now anymore. It was like they disappeared!”

“Disappeared?”

Kristen shook her head. “I know this sounds crazy, Jim. It was like Patty figured she could, like, suck the addiction out of me. Only… she didn’t do that, but instead, it was like she sucked the bad emotions, the hatred. Do you know what I’m saying?”

“That sounds weird.”

Kristen nodded in agreement. “Yeah, but Patty had this look on her face. She started talking about you again, and this time, for some reason, I found myself a little more open to hearing what you did for her. She told me what you and she did in the mornings, and invited me to join her. I was about to tell her, ‘No way!’ but then that part of me that feels the addiction… well, it got the better of me.”

“The next day was the day you came over with Patty?”

Kristen nodded again.

“Patty and I talked a lot after that. Sometimes on the phone, sometimes face to face. She told me that I was a better match for you than she was and she had a feeling that not only did you feel terrible about what you did to me—which took a long time for me to believe!—but that you actually had feelings for me. It took a few days, but I came to enjoy being with you. And then, the afternoon after the first day of school… when you played that song for Patty and me…”

“For you,” I corrected.

“For me…” Kristen came over and gave me one of her erection special kisses. When we broke it off, Kristen finally added, “I realized that we were both stuck with each other. As much as my addiction made me like a slave to you—and I think that was the hardest part for me to accept—you were just as much a slave to me. Patty made me realize that you felt guilty every time that I suck you. You do, don’t you?”

“Well…” I admitted. I had mostly gotten over it, but I still had twinges of guilt over it. Surprisingly, that very morning, when Lynette woke me up by sucking me, I felt a bit of that guilt then!

Kristen smiled. “You do, and don’t tell me otherwise. Anyway, your guilt makes you just as much mine. I told you that more or less on New Year’s Day, Jim, after I spent a week in Europe thinking about everything. I don’t mind the addiction much any more because it binds the two of us together.”

I was about to answer Kristen when she gave me another one of her special kisses. It lasted a long time. I knew that I would need some private time to think about these new revelations.

I saw the light over the intercom was flashing and I went over and hit the reply button. “Jim here.”

Harry answered. “Tell Kristen that her package is outside the door to your studio.”

“Package?” I asked, turning to Kristen.

Kristen didn’t answer me, but instead opened the door and there was a large box wrapped in red and white wrapping paper.

“Happy Birthday, Jim!” Kristen said, smiling.

“Huh?”

Kristen dragged the box into the room, and told me to remove the wrapping paper. It didn’t take me long to see what it was: a sixteen channel mixer!

“Kris! I only have a four track deck!” I protested.

“For now,” Kristen said with a wicked smile.

On the box, I noted a business card: Kurt Helmut from Lafayette, Indiana.

Kristen helped me set up the mixer. We needed to rearrange things around the room a bit, but it wasn’t difficult. There were plenty of chords and switches that would allow me to patch things a lot easier than my old jerry-rigged setup from before.

Kristen and I christened the new mixer by laying down Kristen’s bass accompaniment to a few tapes I had been making.

After those tracks were laid down, Kristen and I listened to the ones that were mostly complete.

After listening to my tapes, Kristen made a single comment. “You need a drummer, Jim.”

I smiled. I knew that, but my efforts on the drums were almost as bad as my efforts on the guitar.

“Can you play me a song that you played at that lounge?”

“Which one?”

“The one by Harry Nilsson.”

I nodded and moved over to the upright piano. Kristen set up the mixer to record my performance, so I made sure the microphone was live.

Kristen spent a few moments, first fiddling with the mixer and then with the four track. I saw her hit the peak button that froze the VU meters to their peak levels. She asked me for a sound check, and I gave her a five count at various volumes on the mike followed by a few scales on the upright.

When Kristen seemed satisfied with the preamp levels, she turned the tape deck on and nodded to me, her index finger on her lips.

I silently counted my standard fifteen seconds and then played the chords that started the intro of the song.

Kristen had one eye on the meters and her other eye on me as I performed. I saw her nodding, satisfied, as I started the second verse.

After the second verse, I noticed that Kristen was staring at me, waiting for the chorus.

It was only as I sang the words did the meaning of this song become clear to me:

Can’t live, if living is without you.

Can’t give, I can’t give anymore...

This was Kristen’s not-so-subtle way of emphasizing the discussion that we just had; her way of describing her life.

For a moment, I wished I had Roy with me to do a harmony line on the vocals for the next verse. Of course, I could probably double-track my own voice to accompany myself on a subsequent recording, but something told me that Kristen wanted this song live.

When the chorus came around again, I think I startled myself by actually hitting the same high note that Harry Nilsson did on his version, and hitting it correctly. I saw the VU meters go far to the right and wondered if I saturated the vocal track.

Kristen was now staring only at me.

Unlike Nilsson’s version of the song, I had no orchestra behind me. I let my fingers do the best they could on the piano, but I was now staring at Kristen.

The song was over for about a minute before either Kristen or I stopped staring at each other.

Kristen quickly went over to the open reel, rewound the tape, and popped the reel off. She also popped out the cassette that she had also apparently recorded as well.

“These are mine, Jim.”

Kristen left the studio to put those tapes in some special place. She left the door to the studio open.

Not for the first time, I wondered what it was like to live Kristen’s life: lonely, misunderstood, and now physically bound to me by those damned tickets. I thought of the words to the song Vincent and how they must have touched Kristen’s heart when she first heard that song.

I made up my mind right then and there that nothing would ever make me deny anything for that wonderful creature. If there were any way possible for me to do something for Kristen, I would move heaven and earth to do so.

The pent-up emotions that I felt from the moment I made the realization during the first chorus of Without You finally hit me hard. I spent the next five minutes softly crying, not caring if Kristen walked in on me.

It was a few minutes after I finally stopped crying that I heard the water flowing in the communal shower down the hall.

Kristen was softly singing an old Motown song from the 1960s.

No muscle bound man

Could take my hand

From my guy!

No handsome face

Could ever take the place

Of my guy!

I walked to the shower, listening to Kristen’s wonderful voice. Kristen saw me at the entrance and she smiled at me as she made a slight alteration to the lyrics:

He’s gonna be a big rock star,

And when it comes to bein’ happy...

We are!

There’s not a man today,

Who could take me away

From my guy!

I know it is a crime to silence a voice as wonderful as Kristen’s, but I found myself unable to help myself. I went right over to her and gave her the biggest, sloppiest, and wettest kiss ever. Kristen melted in my arms.

I would definitely have to find a dry pair of clothes later, but that wasn’t really on my mind at the time.

Chapter 41—Wild Weekend III

When the jazzman’s signifyin’,

And the band is windin’ low,

It’s the late night side of morning,

In the darkness of his soul.

He can fill a room with sadness,

As he fills his horn with tears.

He can cry like a fallen angel,

When risin’ time is near.

Carole King

Jazzman

After Kristen and I finished in the shower, I went upstairs to get dressed. When I came back downstairs, I heard music playing in the billiard room. I went to that room and saw Kristen was sitting on one of the chairs, strumming quietly along to Going to California on the album Led Zeppelin IV.

“I like side one better,” I commented, smiling at Kristen.

“Everybody likes Stairway,” Kristen said, nodding. “I just didn’t feel like strumming my acoustic guitar to Black Dog.”

I figured that Black Dog with an acoustic accompaniment would be something weird and smiled in response.

Since we were waiting for the cheerleaders to return, I parked myself at Kristen’s feet with my eyes half closed, letting the music flow gently through my head. I was thinking about what Kristen told me a little over a half hour earlier. Somehow, despite the fact that Kristen admitted she once wanted to kill me, I felt much closer to her than before.

I decided that I would need to have a long talk with Patty to completely understand things.

The sound of the outside door opening broke me out of my reverie, and Lynette arrived in the billiard room with June, Sherry, and my sister in tow.

I was about to greet the girls when Lynette said, “What are you guys doing lounging around? Why don’t you guys come outside and get some fresh air?”

I blinked at Lynette. Unlike her demeanor when she was cheerleader captain, Lynette hardly ever suggested any activity around the apartment, but here she was doing just that.

“Outside?” I asked, confused.

Sherry joined Lynette. “It’s a wonderful day, Jim!”

Merry added, “You didn’t even say ‘Hi!’ to me!”

“Hi, Shortcake!” I said, automatically, a bit apologetically.

“Come on, you two,” Lynette said, pulling me up by my arm. “Get outside!”

After pulling me up, Lynette surprised me by taking Kristen by the arm, delaying only slightly while Kristen put her guitar against the wall. My Goddess was pulled up by Lynette.

I shrugged at Kristen, not knowing what got into Lynette. Did the two girls have a fight before? I thought they were all lovey-dovey in the shower this morning…

June asked, “Were the two of you in here all the time we were gone?”

My response was a shrug. “Here, the studio…”

“The shower,” Kristen added with a smirk.

June shook her head. “You need to get outside more.”

Before I knew it, Merry and June had me by the arms and led me down the hall toward the door that led outside.

“What’s going on?” I asked, completely perplexed.

None of the girls answered me. I could now tell that Kristen seemed to know what was going on, which made me a bit more curious.

When I got to the door…

“SURPRISE!”

There were people everywhere! Cheerleaders—some still in their outfits—and members of the band from school. Mr. Proilet and a couple of other teachers were there as well. I turned to look at Kristen, who simply kissed me.

“That’s for the surprise party you threw me for my eighteenth birthday!” Kristen said, smiling. “Daddy and Mommy set this up for us.”

I tried to pick out Kristen’s parents in the crowd and saw them sitting on some chairs with my step-father and mother. I went to go over to them to thank them, but people kept interrupting me to wish me a happy birthday.

When I got to the place where our parents were, I was further surprised to see Will and Camille were there as well.

“Cammy!” I said, reaching out to give her a big hug.

“Will told me that he’d spank me if I didn’t show up for this soireé that Kristen planned!”

I gave Camille a big kiss on the cheek and then shook Will’s hand.

Daniel Swift got up from his chair and shook my hand next. “Happy birthday, son!”

“Thanks, Mr. Swift!”

I received a kiss from Charlie Swift as well as my mother, and I got a firm handshake from my step-father.

I turned around to look at everybody who was at the party. I couldn’t believe so many people were there… it had to be even more than the number of people who had been to Kristen’s birthday party earlier that year.

I saw Roy Fennel, who was chatting with Sherry and Merry, and not only was most of my jazz band around, but so was most of the concert band as well. I saw a stage was set up but had large sheets around it. It was obvious that Kristen had planned some entertainment as well. I wondered how many of the jazz band would be performing today.

Kristen came over with two cans of soda and handed me one. “I envy you. My birthday is in January, and it’s too cold then for an outdoor birthday. You get to have wonderful weather for your birthday! Were you surprised?”

“You bet!” I said, still in awe at all the people who were over at the house.

“Mom and Dad suspended house rules and opened the porch to the outside so people can have easy access to the pool. People were told to bring their bathing suits if they want to swim. We have burgers and hot dogs for the afternoon, and the caterer will bring us some barbecued chicken and ribs later tonight.”

“When did you plan this?” I asked, stunned by the turnout.

“I planned it in January, but didn’t tell anybody about it until a couple of months ago. Everybody promised to help me keep it a secret from you.”

“I love you, Goddess!”

“Oh, Jim!”

The two of us kissed for a long time.

* * *

There was a tent set up with picnic tables underneath, and there were people I didn’t know—the caterers—serving food to all takers.

I kept looking at the stage, which was still shrouded in white sheets. Kristen managed to get my curiosity piqued over that. Who was going to perform? Did she make any arrangements with Mr. Proilet to get the Jazz Band to perform? If so, when did they have time to rehearse?

I was startled when I heard a deep voice boom out. “Hey, Oogie!” This was accompanied by a large hand on my right shoulder.

“Archy?” I asked, recognizing the voice. I turned around and saw Archy and June were there. “You’re here from college!”

“Do you think I’d miss out on your birthday?” Archy laughed as we shook hands. “Besides, Kristen arranged for a Piper Cub to pick me up in Indiana. I’ll be going back later tomorrow. Thank goodness we don’t have classes yet.”

“Don’t you have a game this week?”

“We have a bye this week. June told Kristen and next thing I know, she calls me and tells me to get my black butt over here for your party!”

June smiled, and I could see that she was happy to see her big old Teddy Bear with her, even for just a while.

I nodded toward the stage. “Do you have any idea what Kristen has planned over there?”

Archy laughed a deep booming laugh. “Oogie, my friend. That little lady of yours next to you would rip my heart out along with some other organs if I were to spoil her surprise.”

I turned to where Archy indicated, and saw Kristen had come back to be with me. I smiled sheepishly.

“You have Archy trained very well, June,” Kristen said, smiling at the couple.

“I have no complaints,” June said.

As I left, I saw Archy and June start a warm kiss together. I was happy that June and Archy were able to get together again. As much as June and I loved one another, it was nothing compared to the deep bond shared between the linebacker and the cheerleader.

As Kristen led me toward the picnic tent, Mr. Proilet stopped us and shook my hand. “Happy Birthday, Jim!”

“Thanks!” I said, looking back as Kristen continued to drag me away. I wasn’t able to ask my teacher if the band was going to be performing.

I looked in the direction that Kristen was dragging me, and saw Kristen’s brother Will and Camille at a picnic table eating lunch.

“Hey, guys!” Kristen said. “I’m glad you were able to make it, Will!”

“There would have been hell to pay if I didn’t make it,” Will said, laughing. “Mom and Dad were very insistent.”

“When does school start?” I asked.

“In a couple of weeks…” Will started.

“Two weeks,” Camille said.

The two started laughing together, and Kristen and I joined them.

“How long are you in town?” I asked.

The two looked at each other. “We have tickets to go back to New England on Wednesday. We arrive in Boston for a final weekend before I have to show up at the dorm at Brown.”

My favorite red head came over to the table where we were sitting with a plate containing mostly potato salad and macaroni salad.

“Hey, Patty!”

Patty smiled at me and gave a big hug to Camille and Will.

“How long are you guys in Illinois?” Patty asked.

“Our flight leaves Wednesday night,” Camille answered.

I hadn’t noticed that Kristen left me alone until I saw her come back with a couple of paper plates full of food. She handed one to me which had a hamburger and some cole slaw.

“Yum!” I said, attacking the hamburger.

As I was eating, Patty leaned close to me and whispered, “I can see that we will need to talk later.”

* * *

I made small talk with Camille, Will, and Patty. I wanted to talk with each one, albeit privately, but the party wasn’t the opportune time for that.

“Where are you guys staying?”

Will answered. “My old room. Mom and Dad said that Cammy can stay in Kristen’s old room if she wants.”

I nodded and finished my hamburger.

I watched people interact around me.

Mr. Proilet was talking animatedly to my parents, and both Daniel and Charlie Swift seemed to have a few comments to make as well. I figured that whatever they were talking about involved me. From the expressions of everybody involved, however, there wasn’t very much disagreement among the five of them.

I turned to tell Kristen about what I had seen, but found that my Goddess had disappeared again. A quick scan of the party didn’t reveal her location.

“Mind if I excuse myself?” I asked my companions.

There didn’t seem to be any objections, although Camille brushed my arm and said, very softly, “I’d like to talk with you later on.” It was the second time a friend told me that.

I nodded at Camille and got up from the table, putting my now empty plate into one of the trash bins that were strategically located all over the yard.

I saw Archy and June standing by Sherry and Lynette, and I moved over to where they were.

“Hey, Oogie! Great party!” Sherry said, giggling.

I smiled at Sherry and asked how everybody was doing.

“Everybody seems great!”

I looked around and saw Roy chatting with Stacy, a member of the chorus, and my sister.

“Hmm, Roy and Stacy. They’d make an interesting couple.”

“Are you kidding?” Sherry asked.

“Huh?” Was there some problem between Roy and Stacy that I didn’t know? I thought that Roy and Stacy got along very well—they both had wonderful singing voices and they were both in the chorus.

Sherry seemed surprised. “You mean you don’t know?”

I gave Sherry an exasperated look. “Nobody tells me anything around here. What’s wrong between Roy and Stacy?”

“Nothing!” Sherry said, still looking surprised that I was missing something.

I thought back to the conversation I had with Roy the other day and suddenly remembered the subject. “Roy and my sister?”

“It’s not that serious,” Sherry said, trying to assure me.

I didn’t know how to take this information. I mean, I had no hold over my sister. I didn’t even live with her anymore. However, I did know that Roy had a relationship with a cheerleader a few months back, even though she already graduated. They were both at the villa during the senior weekend, and it was obvious that their relationship wasn’t entirely platonic…

“Really, Jim,” Sherry said, patting my arm, “it’s not serious. Merry seems amused that Roy seems interested. I think she still thinks of Roy as your best friend. Of course she’s going to be curious. That’s it.”

“If you say so.”

Roy was my friend… probably the closest male friend that I had. Why was I getting these strange feelings?

“Wow!” Sherry breathed, diverting my attention.

I turned to see what Sherry was looking at, and saw Kristen and Lynette emerge from my apartment wearing the skimpiest bikinis I’ve ever seen. The cuts of their suits as well as the material were identical; only the color was different between them. The one Kristen was wearing was black, and Lynette’s was white.

Kristen saw me looking at her and she smiled, and ran over to me, leaving Lynette behind. “Like my suit?”

“Love it, Goddess!”

“Wait until you see Lynette’s after she hits the water!”

Sherry gasped. “That material will become nearly transparent if it gets wet!”

“That’s the idea, Sherry!” Kristen said with a snicker.

“Does Lynette know this?” I asked.

Kristen shrugged as if she didn’t care. “Lynette does what I tell her.”

I nodded, but Sherry was still staring open mouthed at Lynette, who finally reached us.

“Going swimming, Lynette?” I asked, amused by the prospect.

Lynette looked at Kristen, who nodded. “Of course,” Lynette replied.

Kristen said, “You should put on a bathing suit, Jim. I left one out for you on the bed.” She turned to Sherry and added, “Jim can show you where my bathing suits are if you didn’t bring any, Sherry.”

“Um, thanks,” Sherry said.

Kristen took Lynette by the hand and started walking toward the pool.

Without a word, Sherry took my hand and led me back to my apartment.

* * *

When we were alone, Sherry said, quietly, “I’m not sure what you did, but the compulsion I had a couple of days ago isn’t as bad.”

I nodded, a bit embarrassed by my behavior the other day.

“Kristen knows about me, doesn’t she?”

“What makes you say that?” I asked guardedly.

“Kris and I talked last night. We were alone in your bedroom.”

Really? “About what?”

“Kris confirmed that she had seen the two of us the other day. She also told me she understands how I feel about you. From the way she said it, she implied that I felt different about you than the way we were just friends a week or two ago. I got embarrassed and that probably confirmed any suspicions she may have had.”

Uh oh…

Sherry continued. “Then Kristen said something that I am still finding hard to believe. She first said that she wanted to thank me for being such a good friend to both of you, and that she realizes that I always had a crush on you. She told me that the future is for the two of you, but that you were very understanding of her needs. She admitted to me that she sleeps with Lynette, but also that she’s slept with Camille, Archy, and Patty. That’s when she told me that if you could let her have her freedom with those people, it would only be fair for her to let you have that same freedom with me.”

I was stunned. “Kristen said that?”

“I tried to tell her that I didn’t want to… and that is when she said whatever I do with you… even on your birthday—and she mentioned that! Whatever I do with you, she said, it has her blessing, as long as I don’t try to interfere with the love between the two of you.”

I had no idea what to say to this. I knew that Kristen had given me permission the other day, but this conversation with Sherry was out of the ordinary!

Sherry added, “I promised Kristen that I wasn’t out to get you anymore.”

Suddenly, I eyed Sherry suspiciously. “Why are you telling me this?”

Sherry stopped walking and looked me straight in the eyes. “Look, Jim. I have this compulsion, and I’m not really sure where it came from. The really eerie part is that I used to be worried about it—I was worried sick! Now, it’s like… it’s like, it’s not a problem. That should worry me, but it… it doesn’t. I’m starting to think that I’m losing my mind… only, it’s like… well… so what else is new? This isn’t like me at all!”

Sherry’s face revealed none of the worry that her words would indicate. I remembered again how my friend Jack Williams seemed confused and confounded when I told him not to remember things under the influence of the tickets. I was careful not to play with people’s minds like that since, but it appears I really fucked Sherry’s mind over now.

“I’m…”

“I know what you are going to say, Jim,” Sherry said, her voice much softer. “I think you don’t want me to worry about things, and for some reason, I’m not. It’s that it just doesn’t make any sense.”

Letting out a sigh, I said, “I know. Things don’t always make sense to me, either.”

The two of us looked at each other for a long moment. Neither of us seemed to know what to do.

Finally, I moved closer to Sherry, bringing my face close to hers. Sherry’s eyes closed and her lips pursed; she obviously knew my intention.

I kissed the girl. I felt her lips part, but I didn’t follow her lead. Instead, I moved my arms around her waist and pulled her closer to me.

After a few seconds, I felt Sherry breathe out through her nose. It was almost a sigh.

I’m not sure how long we kissed.

When we finally broke it off, I pulled Sherry into the master bedroom. I sat her down on the foot of the bed, and then walked into the large walk-in closet. I turned the light on within and then opened a large drawer inside, verifying the contents within.

I left the closet, and I could see that Sherry had a look of quiet expectation in her eyes. I intentionally ignored her, and grabbed the bathing suit that was on the bed. It was one that Kristen and Lynette purchased a few weeks before that I hadn’t worn yet.

Gathering up all my will power, I finally spoke. “Kristen’s bathing suits are in the open drawer in the closet, Sherry. I’ll give you some privacy in here as you get dressed.”

I picked up my bathing suit and quietly left the bedroom to go into the spare bedroom to change.

* * *

I was sitting in the living room when Sherry finally emerged from the bedroom. She was wearing a pale blue bikini that seemed to fit her properly.

“Jim, did I ever tell you why I’ve loved you for so long?”

The question startled me. “I don’t think so. Why?”

Sherry gave me a slight smile. “Ever since I saw you the first time, I noticed that you seem to have a self-assured determination to achieve whatever it is that you seem to want to do. I heard that you learned to play the clarinet in seventh grade in a matter of a couple of weeks, and when you played it, you played it better than anybody else in the junior high.”

I remembered that incident. One of the older students told me that anybody could play the brass instruments, but it took a real musician to play the clarinet. I asked my teacher, Mr. Thurd, if I could borrow a clarinet for a couple of weeks, and begged my mother to purchase a box of reeds for it. I went to the library to find a book with the fingerings, and it took me about three weeks to get to the point that I was confident enough of my ability to actually play it in front of people. Sherry’s version was exaggerated, of course. I doubt anybody could pick up an instrument and be as proficient as she said so quickly.

“Sherry, you know that most of that story is just exaggeration.”

“I know that. Answer this question, then. How long did it take you to learn the oboe, Jim?”

Sherry’s question made me very uncomfortable, so I avoided it.

“OK. When I set my mind to doing something, I tend to do it. What’s so special about that?”

I got a warm smile from Sherry. “I always dreamed that one day, you’d get it in your mind that you were in love with me, and that you’d go after me in that same way. I figured that you would be like Cyrano or Romeo, or perhaps Tony in West Side Story.”

That drew a chuckle from me. “That’s not me, Sherry!”

“That is you, Jim. Everybody knows why they call you Oogie.”

I sighed. This was the second mention today about the Hooked on a Feeling set I performed for Kristen on the first day of school last year.

“You are that person, Jim,” Sherry said. “Only, it isn’t for me, but for Kristen. My cousin saw how this tied me up in knots, and she was pissed at Kristen because Kristen just walked away from Dale and all those other snobs. Dale knew how I felt and she told me things that I was secretly believing myself, trying to make me feel even worse. She said you were just another gold-digger out for Kristen’s money. She said you were a rock and roller and Kristen was just a convenient but rich groupie. ‘Kristen’s opening her purse and her legs for your lover boy, Sherry!’ she’d say…”

“Sherry…”

“Please! Let me speak! I went from loving you to hating you! It wasn’t just Dale, because she was saying what I was really thinking. If you were just looking for a groupie, then I could prove it by trapping you, and Dale dared me to try. She offered me money!”

Sherry paused. I waited, since Sherry asked me not to talk. Finally, she said, “I failed, but something else happened. You noticed me, but treated me nicely… like a friend. You introduced me to Kristen and to Patty, and they treated me like a friend as well. I wasn’t sure what to make of this, and… it took some time… but I found that I liked you even more this way. It wasn’t just me, either. You were now talking to everybody. Suddenly, people noticed you. At first, I was jealous. I mean, where were they when I was the only person who loved you, right? People would call you ‘Oogie,’ and you pretended to hate it, but every time they did, you’d glance at Kristen when she was around. And she did the same with you.”

There was another pause, and I was about to speak, when Sherry said, “I finally realized that while I may have dreamed about you being my lover, what I really wanted was for you to see me as a friend. And you did that!”

“You are a friend, Sherry,” I softly replied.

Sherry nodded. “That’s why it hurt me so much to tell you about how I felt the other day. After being friends with both of you for a year, it was as if I was going back and trying to trap you once again… and that’s not the case!”

“I know, Sherry.”

Sherry looked me in the eyes, and said, “You do know, don’t you?”

I simply nodded in return.

“And Kristen knows, too.” This was not a question, but a statement.

I nodded again.

“And Kristen is serious… she’s not jealous of me, is she?”

“Can I tell you something, Sherry?”

Sherry looked a bit apprehensive. “What?”

“I never knew how you felt about me in junior high… at least, not at the time. My life wasn’t a very happy one…”

“You were always mad at your father.”

“Please, don’t interrupt,” I said, softly. “I let you say what you had to say. It’s my turn.”

Sherry nodded and I continued. “Anyway, my life wasn’t happy, but I found that when I played music, a part of my brain that felt so frustrated and angry would go someplace else… a place that I find difficult to describe. It was like, I found a place where I could be happy and not have to worry about anything. A place where everything followed the rules. If a note goes up on the paper, its pitch goes up. It’s like mathematics. Once you learn the rules, you can predict where everything will go.”

I looked at Sherry, and she seemed fascinated by what I was saying. I didn’t go on and explain how the rest of my life didn’t follow the rules… husbands shouldn’t hit their wives or children; I stayed away from that tender subject.

“Anyway, after Kristen and I started going together, I found that the rules had changed, slightly. Instead of pursuing music just to satisfy myself, I found myself doing it to make Kristen happy. I didn’t know the whole story at the time, but Kristen was very lonely. I once played the Moonlight Sonata in the parlor of her parents’ house, and she’d later tell me that she used to play that song when she was alone. I could see in her eyes that she really felt that loneliness, and that she saw music as a way to escape. When she told me that, the song meant more to both of us… it was no longer a lonely song, but a song of love. I found a purpose to my life, and it wasn’t really music after all… but with Kristen, the music became even better! I’m no longer alone when I’m making music. We are there together! Does that make sense?”

Sherry nodded, her mouth open a bit with a surprised expression.

“It’s not Kristen, either. In junior high, I would play the piano or some other instrument, but I was mostly showing off. ‘Play this, Jim!’ somebody would say, and I usually knew the song. ‘Can you play Uncle Albert?’ That sort of thing. I don’t do that anymore. When I play for people, I’m really playing for the people that are listening. It started with Kristen, but I found that it’s more fun this way. I record my own music in private, but I did it better when you were watching me do Dion… I was doing it for you! You are a very important part of my life, Sherry, and I’m sorry that I ignored you for so long. I just think we’re better suited as friends than as lovers.”

“Do you still think of me as your friend?” Sherry asked.

I nodded. “You bet!”

Suddenly, Sherry threw herself at me and we kissed. Again, it was not a romantic kiss, but it was enthusiastic, nevertheless.

* * *

Kristen’s surprise performers on the stage was a six member combo from Chicago named “Aureus.” There was a lead guitar, a bass player who also doubled on the trombone, a female who sang and played the tambourine, a drummer, a keyboardist, and a guy who played different instruments, depending on the song. In all, they were five guys and a girl.

The group also had a sound man, who sat way behind everybody who was listening to the band, and he spent the time they played wearing headphones and making adjustments on his console.

The group were all in their early twenties, and as such, they played a lot of rock and roll covers. However, they augmented that with some older numbers, and they even did some comic numbers that I recalled hearing on late night radio played by a disc jockey named Doctor Demento. There were a few numbers they played that I did not recognize which may have been their own creations.

The group was thoroughly entertaining—even the adults seemed to enjoy them—and Kristen told me they would do two sets, ninety minutes each.

Near the end of the first set, I heard the song Birthday from the Beatles’ white album. It didn’t take a genius to know that the band was going to do something special for me. Kristen, Lynette, Sherry, June, and Archy were all with me, and they all sang along to the Beatles’ melody.

Then the lead guitarist made an announcement. He indicated to my girlfriend and said, “Kristen, over here, requested us to do a special song for the birthday boy, and we asked her what we could play, and she said, ‘Could you let my boyfriend play a song? He likes playing!’ So, if you guys think you can applaud to give the boy some courage…!”

People clapped, but a lot of people were smiling and even laughing. Most of my guests, with the obvious exception of the band, had already heard me play!

I looked at Kristen. “You really want me to play?”

“Do you think you can play something nice with them backing you?”

“I’ll see.”

I walked toward the stage, and saw my music teacher. I stopped for a moment and asked him for a favor. He smiled at me, and nodded, and headed off to the house as I continued on my way.

The band made a big fuss of me coming onstage. The girl asked me off-mike if I played any instrument. I indicated toward the stack of keyboards, and she told me to go over to where they were.

When I got there, I was staring at a bunch of keyboards. What looked like three keyboards when I was standing in the crowd was, in reality, five of them. One of them had keys like an acoustic piano.

“What’s this one?” I asked.

“Rhodes piano,” the keyboardist said. “Have you ever played one?”

“I have a Yamaha back at the house…”

“That one feels like a real piano… Try it.”

I did, hitting a middle-C. Surprisingly, no note came out. Apparently, the sound man had anticipated that I would be taking a few practice notes and didn’t want to embarrass me.

The keyboard felt surprisingly like a real piano.

“Do you guys know Love, by John Lennon?”

The keyboardist said, “Never heard of it, man. Which album?”

“Primal Scream,” I answered. I realized that the song was simple but the chord changes might not be something that having a backup band would be able to pull off. “No big deal. How about Elton John?”

The keyboardist smiled. “I play a lot of his songs. Which one?”

I told him the one I had in mind.

“What key?”

I thought for a second. “G.”

The keyboardist nodded and then went quickly to all the other members. They looked at me strangely.

The keyboard had a pedal underneath it, which I guessed was a sustain pedal. I pressed it, and looked at the sound man, who nodded back at me and he fiddled with his controls.

I started the first notes of the intro, my confidence increasing with each note that I played. The keyboardist was sitting behind another keyboard, which I would later find out was a synthesizer.

I looked at my blonde Goddess, and started singing:

It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside.

I’m not one of those who can easily hide.

I don’t have much money, but if I did,

I’d buy a big house where we both could live...

If I was a sculptor, but then again, no...

Or a man who makes potions in a traveling show.

I know it’s not much but it’s the best I can do,

My gift is my song and... this one’s for you!

As I sang the chorus, I could hear the synthesizer backing me like the strings in an orchestra. I decided right then and there that there would be a Rhodes piano and at least one synthesizer in my studio pretty soon!

The band was great doing backup for me. I could hear them “Oo-ing” behind my vocals.

I wished that I had my tapes recording this performance!

The song got a big round of applause.

Members of the group seemed impressed by my performance. One of them asked me, “Do you have another song you’d like to play?”

“Can you play Jim Croce?” I asked.

“Which song?”

“You Don’t Mess Around With Jim.”

This got a big laugh from the performers, and luckily, they knew the song.

I turned to the mike and invited Kristen and Archy on stage. Archy looked stunned, but June started pushing him toward the stage.

As he passed Mr. Proilet, the teacher handed Archy my trumpet. I could see a big smile appear on the linebacker’s face.

“I’m doing this with a couple of friends as well.”

I told Tiny the tune, and he shook his head. I told him that I’d signal his solo, and he nodded. I had every bit of faith in Archy’s ability to pick up a song by ear.

I signaled the lead guitarist, who had Kristen standing next to him. The two held acoustic guitars and, at the same time, the two of them strummed the intro.

I didn’t use a keyboard for this song, but simply stood next to Archy, who was phantom-fingering his trumpet to get the notes right. I grabbed the mike stand toward me and sang:

Uptown got it’s hustlers,

Bowery got it’s bums.

And forty-second street

Got big Jim Crittenhouse

He’s a pool shootin’ son of a gun!

A lot of people laughed at my renaming of the hero in the song. It was actually unintentional on my part… every time I sang that song to myself, I had put myself into the song. The big, mean, S-O-B that would one day turn the tables on my father. That never happened, but the name still came out. I just barely realized in time and sang the correct words in the next line, instead of “mother fuckin’ son of a gun!” which was another of my modifications.

I continued through to the chorus. The members of the group sang along with me at the refrain:

You don’t tug on Superman’s cape!

You don’t spit into the wind.

You don’t pull the mask off the old Lone Ranger,

And you don’t mess around with Jim!

I sang the second verse, and everybody sang along with the refrain again. It was a pretty rousing song. During the repeat, I gave the cue to Kristen and Archy for Archy to take his solo, and Kristen passed that cue on, and Archy played his solo.

I was going to miss having that big lug around this year.

I looked in the audience, and saw that Sherry had a big, pleased smile on her face. She never heard my first live performance in public, but she got to hear this one!

When the song ended, we got lots of cheers. Archy, Kristen, and I took our bows, and then thanked the band members, who announced that they’d start their next set in forty-five minutes.

“You’re a natural behind the microphone,” Mr. Proilet said as I came offstage.

“I feel more comfortable behind the keyboards, though. That guy has something called a Rhodes piano…”

The two of us talked for a bit on the minor performance I just gave, and I found a lot of people were coming over to me to wish me a happy birthday and it took me a while to get over to the picnic tent where they were serving my birthday cake.

“Congratulations, son!”

I turned around at the unexpected voice. It was my step-father, smiling at me. “Huh?”

“I know for a fact that you didn’t have that performance planned. You are really very talented!”

“Um, thanks.”

“I wish Merry would take up an instrument. I think she’s getting too involved with those cheerleaders.”

My mother interrupted. “Don, don’t go complaining about Merry. All of her friends are here, dear.”

“I know, it’s just…”

“You’re proud of her, and you’ll be seeing her first game next week, won’t you?”

I wasn’t sure if this was directed at me or my step-father, but my step-father answered, “Oh, yeah. I’m sorry, Marge.”

I winced. My mother preferred the name Margaret, and my step-father knew that.

My mother looked unperturbed. “Maybe we can all go to that Vaughn’s place afterward.” She looked at Kristen and me. “How about you two? Would you like to go to Vaughn’s afterward?”

Kristen smiled and answered before I could. “The four of us can go. We’ll have Sherry and Lynette with us, and we couldn’t leave them.”

“Table for seven, then!” my mother said, smiling.

Merry had heard the conversation and hadn’t said anything up until now. “Um…”

“What dear?” Mom asked.

I saw Roy right behind Merry, who looked like she was ready to blush. I decided to come to my sister’s rescue.

“Actually, Kris,” I said, interrupting. “I was thinking that we might be taking Roy to the game, too. That would make it an even eight people.”

Both Merry and Roy looked surprised. Kristen smiled at me and gave me a secret look that told me that she was proud of me. “I forgot about Roy,” Kristen said. “I’m sorry, Roy. Think you could come to Vaughn’s after the game next week?”

“Um, yeah,” Roy said, a bit in shock.

“Eight sounds just right,” my step-father said.

My mother didn’t answer me, but looked at me and then at my sister. I knew right then that she knew that something was up—I found it very difficult to keep secrets from her! I hoped she wouldn’t embarrass Merry in front of her father.

“It’s a date, then,” my mother said sweetly.

That simple sentence told me everything I needed to know. If she didn’t know that Merry had a boyfriend before this conversation started, she knew it now.

Later on, members of the band came over to talk with Kristen and me. They were impressed with our performance.

“This isn’t your first time performing in public, is it?”

Kristen answered. “We did a lounge act out at Purdue a couple of weeks ago to help out a friend.” She looked around and found Archy and June talking quietly by a tree. “That guy, over there. He’s our friend and he’s with the Boilermakers this year.”

“He looks like a linebacker!”

“He is,” I said, smiling.

We talked a bit about music, and I discussed various keyboards with the keyboardist. After about ten minutes of intense discussion, I found that the two of us were alone. I decided to take him into the garage to see my studio.

“Hey, man! This is a great setup!”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve been doing a lot of multi-tracking.”

“That’s a great mixer! Where did you get that?”

“I got it today, in fact. It’s Kristen’s birthday present for me.”

“Wow!”

We spend about fifteen minutes in the studio, and I played him one of the Wanderer tapes I made, which he seemed to enjoy.

When we finally came out of the garage, we noticed that the rest of his band had already started to set up for their second act. Before he left, he offered me another chance to perform, but I turned him down. I already performed, and as the local hero at this party, I didn’t want to detract from the group’s performance.

Instead, I listened to the group play a wonderful set, and I talked with a lot of friends and family that had come over and made this day so wonderful for me.

Chapter 42—Personal Advice

Not guilty for being on your street,

Getting underneath your feet.

Not guilty... no use handing me a writ,

While I’m trying to do my bit.

George Harrison

Not Guilty

On Sunday morning, I woke up in bed, spooned against Lynette. I looked around, but Kristen wasn’t in the room.

My movement alerted Lynette. She whispered, “Kris got up a while ago and went downstairs. She told me to keep you company.”

Lynette and I kept each other company by kissing each other for about five minutes. After that, the two of us showered together. Lynette even allowed me to wash her hair.

As I got dressed, I thought about Lynette.

Lynette and I had, by this time, settled into a comfortable routine. Occasionally, Kristen would include me in her adventures with Lynette, and sometimes the two girls would do things without me. Of course, sometimes Kristen and I would do things together without Lynette.

I’ve always found that it difficult to explain the relationship between Lynette and me to other people. What I felt toward Lynette wasn’t love—at least, if you define “love” to be what I felt for Kristen, my mother, or my sister. However, it was more than just friendship. After having Lynette being an intimate part of the relationship between Kristen and me for the last three months made it difficult to even conceive of a relationship with Kristen that didn’t include Lynette.

It was plain to everybody that Lynette’s real focus in her life at the current moment was Kristen and not me. Lynette had been close to Kristen for years, and once thought that a romantic relationship with Kristen was unachievable. After Kristen and I became a couple, Lynette somehow managed to become a part of our relationship. I’m not sure what happened, but whatever it was must have happened right before or during the Senior Weekend, because the Lynette that I knew up until that point would never have accepted the role of “Pussy Slave” to anybody.

Lynette once confided in me that she didn’t think Kristen was capable of loving anybody else until she saw Kristen and me going together. This may sound heartless and mean, but I must admit that I thought the same way about Kristen before I got to know her better. Kristen always kept her personal life to herself and managed to appear aloof and superior to everybody else in school. Only now was I beginning to understand the (self-imposed) loneliness that she felt throughout her first eleven years of school.

Somehow, Lynette filled a need within Kristen that I couldn’t fill. Maybe it was the fact that they were both female. Then again, it could be that Kristen felt free to dominate Lynette, which she may have felt that she couldn’t do with me since I had the power of the tickets. Whatever it was, Lynette filled a very important need within Kristen, and likewise Kristen filled an important need that Lynette had. I remember this sort of relationship being described in biology class as a “symbiotic relationship,” and I guess that’s one way to describe it. Whatever it was, both Kristen, Lynette, and even I were much happier by the existence of the relationship between the two of them.

Likewise, Kristen and I shared a truly wonderful relationship, and it was pretty amazing that Kristen and Lynette’s relationship didn’t interfere with it, but augmented it instead. It made it even more special.

Both Lynette and I realized that Kristen was the main focus of our love, but there was also something quite consequential between the two of us that was there if you looked deep enough. The two of us were very much attuned to each other’s feelings, and we could anticipate each other’s moods to a point. Neither Lynette nor I would hesitate to stand up to Kristen on behalf of the other if one of us felt that Kristen did something wrong to the other.

* * *

Once I got out of the bedroom, the place felt lonely.

June went home that night, taking Archy to his parents. I guess they were thrilled that Archy was home for a quick visit. I knew that Kristen’s “Uncle Jerry” would be taking Archy back to college this evening.

Last night, after June left, Sherry went home, but not before she gave me another one of her enthusiastic kisses in front of a rather surprised Lynette.

Cammy and Will were at the main house, and I remembered that Camille said that she needed to talk to me alone, a request that almost certainly had to do with the tickets.

Patty, who also told me she needed to talk with me, didn’t have an opportunity to do so last night, and she promised before she left that she’d find some time before the weekend was over. I knew she was supposed to work at Roman’s tonight, so that meant that she’d probably see me this afternoon.

Since Lynette—the one who did most of the cooking at the apartment—was still in the bedroom, I decided to skip breakfast, and peeled an orange that was in the fruit bowl in the kitchen and headed downstairs to the music studio as I ate the sections.

I went the long way downstairs, taking the stairs at the other end of the apartment so that I would walk by the billiard room to see if Kristen was perhaps playing another game of pool with Camille.

Instead of Camille and Kristen in the billiard room, I was surprised to see Patty sitting on the chair, listening to the soft and memorable strains of Stairway to Heaven on the record that Kristen and I were listening to yesterday afternoon.

“Hey, Patty! What’s up?”

I think this was the first time that my presence ever startled Patty.

Patty recovered quickly, however. “Hi, Jim! Kristen told me that I could come over whenever I wanted today, and I felt that the two of us needed to talk.”

I nodded.

“Kristen told you something that bothered you recently.”

This was a statement, not a question. I’ve learned over the past year that Patty was like that.

I simply nodded at Patty.

Patty looked serious. “The only thing Kristen could have told you that would have upset you about me was what Kristen and I talked about before the two of you started dating.”

Again I nodded.

“You have to realize that Kristen was suicidal, Jim!”

“Not to mention homicidal,” I added glumly.

“She wasn’t seriously going to kill you, and I doubt that she would have killed herself. She was trying to scare me.”

“Patty, you are easy to talk to, but you aren’t a psychiatrist! You can’t make that kind of decision! That sort of thing is a matter of life and death!”

“Jim, you never realized how much Kristen prefers to be in control. She saw no future with you because she’d never be able to control you while she had the addiction.”

“Kristen told me that yesterday. She told me that you said that if she killed me, she’d be a junkie without a fix. Some friend you are!”

I thought saying that would shock Patty, but I was mistaken.

“You think that I’m not your friend because I pointed out the truth to Kristen?”

“You’re twisting my words around!”

Patty didn’t respond, but just looked at me.

I stared at Patty, daring her to out-stare me. It was a child’s game; I admit it.

Finally, I broke the silence. “I really thought you were my friend, Patty.”

I slowly turned to walk away, feeling as if my best friend plunged a knife into my heart.

To her benefit, Patty didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she quietly said, “At that time, Kristen didn’t have any friends, Jim. The only person she could talk to was her brother, who was living on the East Coast. I felt that Kristen needed a friend right then, and I tried to talk some sense into her. Can you really fault me for that? Isn’t that what a friend is supposed to do?”

I stopped walking away. Patty did have a point. I sighed and said, “Kristen said you called her up and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“I did. I knew what she was going through. Kristen felt violated, and to her, what you did to her was even worse than what she thought happened to me.”

Once again, I was at a loss. Patty’s words were hitting me like a sledgehammer. I was barely able to choke out the word, “Worse?”

Patty shook her head slowly. “Look at it from her point of view. You know what you did to her. She felt humiliated to have to call my home and then Wendy’s mother just to talk to me in order to set up a ‘date’ with you. Usually, I’m sensitive to these things, and I should have seen this when you crossed the line, but I must have been under the influence of a ticket. I was, wasn’t I?”

Was Patty? My mind was a mass of confusion of mixed emotions and self-doubt. I tried to think what happened the day that I put Kristen under my power, and suddenly remembered that I gave tickets to Wendy, Camille, and Patty—and told them not to worry about how I was doing these things, but rather to think that I was pretty wonderful. “Oh, yeah,” I said glumly, the realization hitting me.

Patty nodded. “That’s probably why I couldn’t think that you were doing something terrible, Jim. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was feeling very guilty for allowing what happened to occur. When I heard her on the phone the next day, I realized that something was seriously wrong. I needed to do whatever I could to try to fix things.”

“You keep saying things like that. You’re sensitive to the tickets; you knew how Kristen was feeling. What are you telling me?”

Patty lowered her eyes. “I’ve never been able to tell anybody before. Let me see if I can do so now. If not, Jim, it’s not because I don’t want to.”

My ears pricked up. Patty was teetering on the verge of answering a question that was on my mind for so long. I was genuinely curious. “Tell anybody what?”

Patty took a deep breath and said, “Camille and I have been best friends since, like, forever. Then something happened to her. Everybody knows her hair suddenly got lighter. She denied dyeing it, and eventually, everybody didn’t think much about it. She also used to be an average student, but she started acing classes. She also started to become more popular at school, sleeping with her sister’s friends, both boys and, it was whispered, girls. That was all very unlike her. I’d ask her what was happening, and she’d just shrug.”

“Camille was under the influence of the tickets,” I said.

“Right, but she didn’t have them. Her sister did.”

Patty knew about Debbie? I simply nodded to confirm this to Patty.

“I confronted Debbie and demanded to know what was happening. She simply laughed at me and handed me a ticket. This happened so fast that I couldn’t ignore the ticket and run away. I was forced to take the ticket from her.”

“What did Debbie command you?”

“I heard her words, Jim, and I can only tell you the last part.” Patty closed her eyes and added, “I remember her saying, ‘you will have no memory of what I’ve just said.’ That was it. I left her house, and didn’t worry about Camille’s odd behavior much anymore. I started to take it for granted as if she was always that way—a slut, in her own words.”

“OK…” I said, drawing the syllables out, hoping that Patty would continue.

“I have a hunch about one of Debbie’s commands. I mean, when I saw the ticket that first time, everything within me told me to get away… run away… avoid it as if it were the plague! However, the next time I saw a ticket… in the store when you now had them… instead of getting that bad feeling, I eagerly took it, thinking that it would be fun. I knew what you were saying and what you were doing, and I just went along with it. I now think that Debbie must have made me feel that way.”

That didn’t follow what I understood of the tickets. When the tickets passed from Debbie to whomever was next… Camille? Anyway, commands made didn’t continue, did they? But wait, what about the commands that Tim gave to Sherry… they transferred to me, didn’t they?

“You’re thinking of something,” Patty said, looking at me.

“Do you remember what Sherry told us, about how Tim gave her a command and now she’s forced to follow it with me? What if Debbie’s command to you is now directed at me?”

Patty thought this over. “That could make sense. If Debbie told me to trust her, and that command is directed toward you…” Patty’s voice trailed off.

I let the red haired girl think about this.

“Those things are… evil!”

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “Tell me about it.”

“You must destroy them!”

I shook my head. “Nope. That won’t solve anything. Debbie got rid of them and now I have them. I got rid of Tim’s tickets, and now Sherry feels she needs to give up her virginity to me.”

The two of us were silent for a long time.

“The record’s skipping.”

Patty and I turned to see Lynette in the doorway. She was wearing only a robe.

How much did Lynette hear of our conversation? I looked wildly at Patty, and she shook her head a bit, but I didn’t understand what she was trying to tell me. Was she indicating that Lynette didn’t hear anything, or that she didn’t know what Lynette heard?

“The record!” Lynette repeated. She moved over to the phonograph and lifted the tone arm, which was riding in the lead-out groove on side one of the Zeppelin album. “Kristen will kill you if you break that needle!”

Without thinking, I pointed to a small box to the right of the turntable. “There’s another Shure cartridge in that box over there. I think the old one was about due for a change. The new one’s a type III that I’ve been wanting to try out. Stereo Review gave it high marks.”

“You want me to change Kristen’s cartridge? Are you fucking nuts?” Lynette looked at me with an incredulous expression that made it look as if I just asked her to do heart surgery on herself.

“I’ll do it later,” I said, shrugging. “I have the screwdrivers in the studio, since that was the last place I replaced a cartridge.”

Lynette picked up the record in between her palms, and carefully placed it into the paper record insert before putting it into the album cover. She placed the album in the wooden case, and switched the receiver so that it was playing a soft song from one of the FM stations.

“I’m going to the main house. I think Kris is with Cammy, and I want to tell Cammy all about the new routine that Sherry and I came up with for the squad.”

“In your robe?” I asked.

Lynette opened her robe, revealing one of Kristen’s designer bathing suits underneath.

I whistled appreciatively. “Give her my love,” I said, softly.

Lynette smiled at me. “I’ll give everybody your love, Oogie. I’m sorry for interrupting, Patty. I’ll tell Kris and Cammy that you’re here.”

“Thanks, Lynette,” Patty said.

I thanked Lynette as well, and she left the billiard room and headed down the hall.

After I was sure that Lynette was out of the building, I asked Patty, “Do you think she heard?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Yeah, right,” I said sarcastically. “You can, like, just feel that. Right?”

“No, Jim,” Patty said, her face looking a bit hurt. “I can’t talk about the tickets unless you are around, and never when anybody else that doesn’t know about them is around. She came after we shut up.”

Patty said that with such certainty that I didn’t bother to argue.

“What were we talking about?” I asked.

“You said you can’t destroy the tickets.”

“No,” I corrected. “I said I won’t destroy them. I don’t know enough about them, but everything inside me tells me that if I just assume that destroying them will get them out of my life, then I am seriously mistaken.”

Patty narrowed her eyes. “Why do you say that?”

I told Patty what I decided. “Look, if I get rid of the tickets, then most likely, they will end up with somebody else. Now, I’ve abused the tickets myself, and I’ve seen what other people have done with the tickets. I may not be perfect…”

Patty nodded. “But you already know how easy it is to go too far with them. Right? You’ve already made the mistakes.”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “Something like that.”

Patty thought for a few minutes. After what seemed to me to be an eternity, she finally said, “You have a good point.”

It was obvious to me that Patty wasn’t happy whatsoever with my answer, however.

* * *

As I entered the kitchen in the main house, Daniel and Charley Swift were just leaving.

“Hello, Jim! Kris, Will, and their friends are still eating breakfast,” said Charley.

Charley gave Patty and me a big hug, and Daniel shook our hands.

I said, “You guys look as if you’re going somewhere.”

Charley nodded. “Kristen and Will sent us on an errand.”

An errand? “Where’s Harry?” I asked, confused.

“We gave him the day off after he put that party together yesterday.”

“Oh,” I said. I hadn’t thanked Harry for all his hard work, and I felt a little ashamed at that.

“Have a nice day, you two!” Daniel added as he and his wife left.

Kristen noticed my expression, and laughed. “Don’t worry about Mom and Dad,” she said. “They’re happy for an excuse to take a day trip to Chicago.”

“Oh,” I said, still feeling guilty.

Kristen jumped up from her chair and almost tackled me as she gave me a kiss. “Good morning, Oogie!”

“Hi, Sweetness!” I said, trying to appear cheerful.

I looked at the table, and saw Lynette, Camille, and Will with some plates of pancakes.

Kristen saw my look. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” I said. “I ate an orange.”

“How about you, Patty?” Kristen asked.

“I don’t think…”

“Sit down!” Kristen ordered. “Lynette, put some pancakes on a plate for Patty.”

Patty was a bit bemused by Kristen’s remark, and Lynette immediately got up and started moving some of the extra pancakes onto one of the empty plates next to the stack.

I felt a bit left out, being the only one that was still standing after Patty and Lynette sat down. “What are the plans for today, Goddess?”

“I let Will hear the tape you made for me, Jim.”

Kristen didn’t need to tell me which tape she was talking about. Unless I was seriously mistaken, it was the Without You tape. “Oh?”

“It moved me,” Will said, softly.

I shrugged. The performance moved me as well, but somehow, I felt a bit embarrassed that Kristen played the tape for her brother without telling me first.

Patty looked puzzled. She stared at me for a few seconds before finally asking, “A tape?”

Somehow, this whole discussion was getting too intimate for me. Patty’s eyes widened right before I made up my mind.

I left the main house and ran back to the apartment. I started to go upstairs to the main bedroom, but remembered that we didn’t have any locks on the bedroom doors. I took a quick detour and locked myself into my studio and turned on the DND light.

* * *

To say that I felt bad was a gross understatement.

For the last few months, I thought that everything was going fine. Thanks to Patty’s assurances during the Senior Weekend, I actually stopped thinking of myself as a terrible rapist. I was no longer dwelling on my misdeeds with the tickets.

Why were Kristen and Patty both bringing up the past now? Just yesterday, Kristen told me how suicidal and lonely she felt when we first met. Then, this morning, Patty told me that I was worse than the guy that raped Patty and turned her life upside down afterward.

I no longer felt worthy of Kristen’s love. Not only that, I doubted that I deserved the friendship of Patty, Lynette, Camille, and Will.

After what seemed like an hour or so, I glanced at the intercom light to see if it was blinking. It wasn’t. I was right: nobody loved me.

I started playing the Moonlight Sonata on the upright piano. For some reason, my mind was taken back to the Danish musician-comedian Victor Borge, who I once heard play the introduction to this song, doing a simple segué into Cole Porter’s Night and Day, and finally into Happy Birthday To You. If memory served me correctly, Victor Borge called this the “Moonlight Sinatra.”

I fumbled at the keyboard, missing the shifts in melody and roundly butchered my attempt at reproducing Borge’s joke, and finally got up out of the stool in disgust with my inability to play a simple musical parody.

Frustrated, I felt like throwing things. I lifted a box of open reel tapes and saw a music book that Mr. Proilet gave me last spring.

Curious, I put the box down and picked up the music book. I tried to remember the name of the song that Jean indicated in the book. I looked through the table of contents until I saw the name Canon, which struck a chord in my memory. Turning to the page indicated, I saw the composer’s name, Pachelbel. This was the song that Mr. Proilet played for me those months ago.

I set the music on the piano and started playing.

The song was very simple, but grew more complex as the song progressed. Despite its complexity, I found the strains of the song quite soothing.

Without thinking, I started playing my original melody that my teacher told me sounded like this song as a counterpoint to Canon. It wasn’t particularly easy, but I was determined. After a few moments, I found that the arpeggios of Canon worked nicely against the more structured “verses” of my own song. I shifted completely away from Canon to my song when the chord progression diverged.

From out of nowhere, words flew into my head.

Wild geese flying low

Always moving, on the go.

Towards freedom’s door,

Moving on and on....

Kids on the ground,

Cloud shapes that they’ve found

As the birds start to soar

Before they are gone.

I was no longer sitting at the upright, as I had shifted over to the electric piano that Kristen and I purchased in Lafayette. I played a simple melody line with my right hand while holding the sustain pedal down, listening to the notes ring out like church bells.

There was a part of me that wished that I was recording this particular effort—I knew that any attempt to reproduce this arrangement again would come out different.

There was also another part of me that realized that something just shifted in my world. I couldn’t put what changed into words, though.

I gained strength as more words came to me seemingly from nowhere—but at the same time, from everywhere.

I continued playing the keyboards, but not really paying any particular attention to what was coming from my fingertips. I was singing, but instead of a song of despair, it was a song of freedom and redemption.

I closed my eyes and thought about Kristen tuning her guitar just the day before. I thought about the way she fingered the song Vincent, a song that reminded her of her past life. I realized what I missed the day before. As she played the song, she wasn’t looking at the strings of her guitar, but looking directly at me!

Kristen wasn’t telling me about her loneliness and how she felt when we first met to make me feel guilty, and neither was Patty! The two girls were instead telling me how much has changed for the good since that time. Kristen, in particular, was telling me how much her life has changed for the better!

How many times did Patty tell me that I moved on from the power hungry little twerp that tried his damnedest to humiliate Kristen and ruin her life? How many times did Kristen tell me the same thing?

At the same time, however, I knew that something was bothering Patty. I also knew what it was. Those tickets were still around, and they could just as easily be misused once again just as I misused them just a year ago.

The melody that I was playing switched to minor keys as I considered the awful burden that these tickets would be to me and whoever would inherit them next.

I ended the song on a note of hope.

My song has no rhythm,

My song has no rhyme.

Love wins over evil,

Time after time!

I burst out of the music studio, completely rejuvenated. I must have looked a sight, with tears of frustration and happiness stained on my face. It didn’t matter to me.

“Are you all right?” Kristen asked me, surprised to see me upstairs in the living room.

“For the first time in a long time, Goddess,” I said, bending down to the recliner where Kristen was sitting to give her a long kiss.

I took a deep breath and faced Lynette, Patty, Camille, and Will. “I’m sorry for leaving like that before. There was a lot on my mind, and suddenly, things are making better sense to me now.”

There were a few murmurs of “that’s all right,” from the majority of the people there.

Patty simply looked at me strangely.

* * *

The six of us took two cars to the mall. Kristen, Lynette, and Will stopped at Martin’s, Kristen’s favorite dress shop. Patty, Camille, and I were just walking around.

It was just after noon on a Sunday, and the mall wasn’t crowded at all. We sat on a bench where we had a good view of one side of the mall.

“What happened in your studio?” Patty finally asked.

“Something that should have happened a long time ago,” I said. “I’ve decided to move on. Kristen has moved on, there’s no reason that I shouldn’t.”

“Huh?” Camille asked, confused.

“Camille, I’ve finally decided to put the tickets behind me.”

Camille looked at me as if I had two heads. “What? You’re getting rid of them?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I’m just refusing to let them run my life.”

Even Patty seemed a bit confused by this. “You said that you won’t get rid of them. Has that changed?”

“No,” I said. I thought about what I decided back in the studio. “I agree with both of you. Those tickets are evil! However, there’s something deep down inside of me that is telling me that I don’t have the entire story, and without knowing what I need to know, I can’t make the right decision about them.”

I turned to Patty. “I can understand your telling me to get rid of them, but that would only be foisting them onto somebody else. Camille’s sister got rid of them, Tim Hawking had them taken from him, but they are still around!”

Looking at Camille, I added, “You may be right about destroying them, but I don’t know how! What if I fail? I feel that I have an obligation—a duty!—to do the right thing.”

Neither girl contradicted me, which surprised me.

Finally, I said, “For the last year, I’ve been holding onto them, and only used them when I felt I needed to do so. There are still some problems brewing, including Sherry.”

“Sherry?” Camille asked, confused.

Patty and I quickly brought Camille up to date on Sherry’s problem.

“Yikes!” Camille said, shaking her head.

“Tell me about it,” I said soberly. “Anyway, I will deal with her as best as I can, and I’ll try to do it without the tickets.”

Patty looked thoughtful. “What if they are… like…” Patty stopped in mid-thought, apparently frustrated.

“Like what?” I asked.

Patty tried to speak again, and failed.

I started getting frustrated. “Like what?” I repeated. “Tell me!”

“Like… what if they are a test?” Patty finally blurted out.

“A test?” Camille asked.

Patty looked quite out of breath. It appeared that asking that one question took a lot out of her.

I didn’t have any idea what Patty was talking about. I realized also that something prevented her initially from asking the question. For some reason, it occurred to me that this might indicate that she was getting close to the truth.

“A test,” Camille mused. “Sort of like Job in the bible?”

“Huh?” I asked, ignorant of most of the bible. “The guy in the whale?”

Camille shook her head, “That was Jonah. Job was the person that was tested—as a bet. He had everything, and then God took everything away from him.”

“If I was being tested, then I failed miserably,” I said sourly.

“You could only say that if you know the nature of the test.”

I shrugged. I didn’t know what test I was being given, let alone if I passed it. “What are you saying?”

“You’ll have to decide whether to keep the tickets or get rid of them. That’s probably the test.”

It occurred to me right then that Camille’s answer was self-serving. After all, she claimed to have rejected the tickets. Was she insinuating that she passed a test that I failed?

“That’s as may be, Camille,” I finally said. I looked at Patty, and saw confusion in her eyes, which confirmed to me what I already decided. “I’m still holding onto them until I have more information.”

Camille surprised me by saying, “You know, that’s probably the best choice.”

The rest of our hour spent together was listening to Patty and Camille talk about what was going on in their lives since Camille moved to New England. I excused myself to visit Kristen’s favorite candy store and ordered a container of freshly made chocolate covered peanuts.

For the first time, I didn’t feel a twinge of guilt when I ordered Kristen’s delicacy.

Chapter 43—Seventeenth Birthday

When you’re a fool in love,

And nothing goes the way you plan.

And no one cares,

And no one understands,

That you’re a fool...

And you’re in love!

Randy Newman

A Fool In Love

On Monday morning, I found Roy waiting with Sherry as June drove me and my sister to school. I now knew that Roy and Merry were an unofficial couple, although I still did not come to terms with my feelings about this. The fact remained that Roy has always been one of my closest friends since elementary school, and I really didn’t want anything to come between us. I knew that I would need to investigate my feelings about this some time soon.

I gave June a kiss before I got out of the car, and I opened the door for Merry. As Roy approached us, I said, “Roy, I have a favor to ask.”

Roy glanced nervously at Merry and then back at me. “For you, anything.”

I smiled. “I have an idea to make this year’s talent show the best one ever. The money it makes is supposed to go to help out the chorus, so I figured you guys would be thrilled with what I have in mind.”

Roy looked a bit surprised. “Are you thinking of entering?”

“Not in the way that you’re thinking. I want to donate the services of the jazz band to help the performers look great. We have some bitchin’ players and singers, and as a back up band, we can really make people sound great!”

“The jazz band…” Roy’s voice trailed off, and I could see the cogs in his mind turning. A smile came to his lips.

I smiled again as I saw Roy’s reaction. “I thought you’d appreciate the idea. Can you pass this along to the other chorus members and any of the jazz band that you see? I’d like to have a special jazz band practice tomorrow afternoon to go over some ideas. It’s all voluntary, and it won’t be an official jazz band event, since I don’t want the band to eclipse the real stars of the event… the people actually performing.”

Roy nodded, his mind far away.

I glanced at my sister. “I’ll leave the two of you guys alone. Don’t be late for first period!”

June and Sherry accompanied me toward the school.

“That’s a real cool idea!” June said.

“Maybe the cheerleaders could help,” I said, smiling.

“The cheerleaders?” Sherry asked.

“Sherry, you have one of the best dancers that I’ve ever seen offering to help you train the cheerleaders. I’m sure Lynette would be thrilled to help you guys help out the chorus.”

“Ooh, Lynette,” June said, gushing a bit.

“So you’re saying that you want to provide a back up band and have the cheerleaders as back up go-go dancers?” Sherry asked, a bit suspiciously.

“Not at all,” I said. “You guys are used to performing on the football field. I’d imagine you would love to help out people who might be afraid that all the attention would be on them.”

Sherry looked at me warily for a bit, but then softened. “You have a heart of gold, Oogie.”

I gave both June and a surprised Sherry a quick kiss on their cheeks and headed off to my calculus class.

As I hoped, thanks to Roy, word quickly spread about my ideas for the talent show. I had a few people come up to me—people I didn’t really know—and offer me some ideas.

One boy told me that he knew a few magic tricks but was a bit shy about doing the talent show.

Since this wasn’t a musical performance, I was intrigued. I smiled and asked, “What kind of tricks do you know?”

The boy was surprised that I took an interest. “You know, card tricks. I have the three balls trick, and the one with the interlocking rings.”

“Could you use an assistant?”

“Huh?”

“Most magicians have a beautiful assistant to help take the attention off the magician as he does his misdirection.”

“Yeah,” the boy said glumly. “I wish.”

“Do you know Sherry Jordan?”

“The cheerleader?”

“Why don’t you ask her if one of the cheerleaders would be willing to help you out?”

“Sherry would never talk to me!”

Oh, lord. This kid reminded me of myself not so long ago.

I smiled, and said, “I’ll be with June Rodgers and Sherry during lunch. That’s fifth period for me.”

“I know,” the kid said. “I have lunch the same period.”

“Cool,” I said, a bit ashamed that I still didn’t even know the kid’s name. “I’ll introduce you and make the suggestion myself. You’re name is…” I paused, hoping the boy would help me out.

“Doug. Doug Dooley.”

Well, that was an easy name to remember. “Well, Doug, I’ll see you in fifth period, then!”

I left an amazed Doug behind me as I wandered late into band class.

As I entered the lunchroom during fifth period, I spotted Doug and went over to him. “Come sit with me.” I nodded toward the table where I usually sat.

“That’s the cheerleader table,” Doug whispered.

I shrugged. “They love performers. What can I say?”

Doug didn’t seem sure of himself as I led him to the table. I introduced him to Sherry, June, and the other cheerleaders at the table and explained my idea. Sherry and June tried to think of somebody that would be perfect to be an assistant to Doug.

A cheerleader named Becky softly said, “I’d love to help Doug. I’ve always been fascinated by magic.”

Doug was a bit tongue-tied.

I was about to speak for Doug, but Becky turned to Doug and asked, “Do you think you could teach me magic as I learn to be your assistant?”

Doug stammered. “Um… sure… I guess…”

It took a few minutes, but before long, Becky had invited Doug to sit across from her, and the two of them were soon in their own little world within the lunch room. Both Sherry’s and June’s eyes sparkled as they looked at me.

I changed the subject slightly and asked about other ideas for the talent show.

When the period was over, Sherry came over to me. “I think it was nice what you did for Doug.”

“Huh?” I asked. I just helped him get an assistant, after all.

“I’ve never seen you play matchmaker before.”

I laughed. “Me? A matchmaker?”

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” Sherry noted. “Heck, you’re cute all of the time.”

“Aw, shucks, ma’am!” I said with my best Southern accent. I noticed that damned similarity with Mac Davis’ voice once again. Quickly, I switched to my real voice and continued. “Actually, I think Becky did more than I did to get the two of them together.”

“Becky is almost the shyest girl on the squad,” Sherry said. “I thought I was bad! It was unlike her to offer like that.”

“Well, I hope the two of them hit it off.”

I left the lunch room and headed toward Mr. Proilet’s music theory course.

My teacher caught me as I entered the room. “I see you’ve got the rumor mill working full speed. A number of students have already contacted Ms. Kendall about performing.”

I couldn’t help but be pleased. “That’s great. I have some ideas for some surprises, too.”

“Like what?”

“Heck, if I tell people, they won’t be surprises!”

The two of us laughed and Mr. Proilet went to the task of teaching his class.

* * *

After June dropped me off at the apartment, I found Kristen sitting alone in the living room.

“Hi, lover boy!”

“What’s up, Kris? Where’s Lynette?”

“Lynette is gossiping with Cammy and Will. I wanted to talk to you alone about your birthday present.”

“I thought you already made plans. This weekend in Chicago, right? Wrigley Field?”

Kristen didn’t immediately answer, but simply looked at me.

I knew something was up. “What’s wrong?”

“Um… nothing is wrong… I… uh…”

I waited for Kristen to find her voice.

Finally, Kristen said, “I’ve decided what to get you for your birthday. I’m going to give you Sherry.”

“What?” I was incredulous! “Whether you’re talking about a cheerleader or a drink, I don’t think that’s very funny, Kris. You know how I feel about both!”

“Come on, Jim. I mean… I know what she wants to do, and I’ve been thinking about it…”

“Kristen, you can’t give me Sherry. You don’t own her!”

“You know what I mean! I’m giving you free rein. I’ll even let you take her to Chicago.”

“No.”

My immediate and negative answer took Kristen by surprise. “No?”

“No. No fucking way, no how. You’re not giving me Sherry. You are not even going to permit me to be with Sherry.”

Kristen wrinkled her brow. “What happened to you? Something about you has changed!”

I thought back on my tantrum in my music studio the previous day and nodded. “I’ve decided to take charge of my life. I’ll deal with the problems that the tickets caused, but I’m no longer going to feel guilty about them, nor will I allow myself to be forced to do something that I don’t want to do.”

Kristen narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

I shrugged. “I’m not going to abuse the tickets anymore. I’m no longer going to live my life apologizing for them, either. They will not control me or my life.”

Kristen didn’t respond, but continued looking at me warily.

My explanation needed elaboration. “Sherry’s current problem has been caused by the tickets, and I will deal with that. It’s just like your addiction being caused by the tickets. We’ll need to work these things out, one by one. I’m just through pulling out my hair because of the damned tickets.”

Kristen shook her head slightly. “What are you saying?”

I sighed. “Kristen, my love… my Goddess… I love you, and the best birthday present I could imagine would be you and me in a hotel in Chicago. You said that you’d like Lynette to join us, and that’s fine. I don’t feel that way about Sherry, and bringing her along with or without the two of you would make me miserable!”

“You mean…?”

“Kristen, you are my love. You can’t give me Sherry; she’s being forced on me. It’s not the same. I said that I’ve given up feeling guilty about the tickets, but throwing Sherry and me together would just start that all right up again. There must be some solution to Sherry’s problem, and I will try my damnedest to fix it, but I’m not going to fix it by sleeping with Sherry on my birthday.”

“I… I didn’t think of it that way.”

I nodded. “I know.” I bent down and kissed this lovely girl of my dreams. “You are all that matters to me. I want you to be happy.”

“You want Lynette to be with us in Chicago?”

“Why not?”

“She’s… I mean…” Once again, Kristen paused. She was at a loss for words.

Softly, I said, “Lynette makes you happy. You make me happy. We all make each other happy.”

Kristen sprang out of her recliner so fast that she caught me by surprise and the two of us went flying onto the shag carpet. “I love you, Oogie!”

“I love you, Goddess!”

Kristen started working on the button on my jeans. “Make love to me!”

We made love.

* * *

Lynette walked into the living room as Kristen and I were going at it for the second time. We were in a sixty-nine position this time.

“Get a room, you two!” Lynette said, laughing.

I tried to answer, but Kristen’s pussy muffled me. I happily resumed my task of licking.

For her part, Kristen didn’t let up on her intense sucking, swallowing me deeply.

Lynette walked around us, turned on the television, and curled up on the love seat. I’m not sure she was watching the game show or Kristen and me. It really didn’t matter to us at the time. Lynette saw the two of us many times now, and once more wouldn’t bother us.

I was wrong.

I heard a familiar chuckle, and recognized Camille’s voice. Again, I tried to say something, but Kristen seemed to realize this and ground her crotch tighter against my face.

“You’d think the honeymoon would be over,” Camille said, apparently to Lynette.

“Oh, they fuck like rabbits all the time,” Lynette said.

“Technically, that’s not fucking,” Camille observed.

“Be that as it may,” Lynette replied, “I’d give them a nine point oh for technique, and a perfect ten for enthusiasm.”

“Camille… oh, my!”

The new voice belonged to Will Swift.

“They’re at it again,” Lynette said. “Kristen’s not going to stop until he explodes.”

I was, by now, getting a bit of performance anxiety. My impromptu sex act with Kristen wasn’t intended to become a spectator sport. Lynette was one thing. Camille and Will were completely different.

Will seemed to be the only person that had a sense of propriety. “This isn’t right! Camille, I think you and I should go down to the billiard room.” There was a pause, and Will added emphatically, “Now!”

“Spoil sport!” Camille said, her laugh fading as she left the room.

I heard the television click off, and the door closed a few seconds later.

It was a good thing, too. Kristen’s talented mouth got me close to the boiling point. Within a minute after our guests left, I started pumping my second load of semen into Kristen’s mouth.

* * *

Kristen went downstairs to tend our guests after the two of us showered together.

A few minutes later, Camille came up for a visit. I was actually expecting her to show up alone.

“Hi, Jim! I’m sorry about before. I was just teasing, and Lynette seemed so… casual about it. Will told me that you were getting very embarrassed.”

“Well, I don’t usually put on sex shows for my friends,” I replied.

Camille nodded. After about a half minute, she said, “Jim, I was wondering…”

I waited. Camille usually didn’t have difficulty in asking for a favor.

“I’ve been wanting to… you know… do a double with Will. You know… two guys and me. I haven’t done that since last fall.”

I shook my head. “What game are you playing, Camille?”

“Huh?” Camille looked a bit confused.

“Are you still playing the slut game? I would have thought that it would have gotten old by now. You are no more a slut than Will is.”

Camille looked too surprised to answer me.

“Cammy, I’ve seen the way that Will and you look at one another. You stare at one another. It’s exactly the same way that Kristen stares at me, and the way that I probably stare at Kristen. The two of you stare at each other, and neither of you give a shit who sees you doing it.”

“So?”

I sighed. “I’ve seen Will with one of his so-called male friends. I think his name was Robert. Will never looked at him that way. In fact, I think he was bemused with Robert. He even called him a flirt. I think that perhaps Will is only pretending to be a homosexual.”

“Will? Pretending?” Camille sounded incredulous.

“Oh, he’ll go through the motions, but his heart doesn’t seem to be into it. He knows the right things to say, and he even sort of identifies with them. However, something about the way he talks about homosexuality doesn’t seem to be as genuine as when he talks about other things. I realized that after I first met him in Boston. You’re a smart person, Cammy. Do you mean to tell me you didn’t notice this about him?”

Camille looked shocked. “Huh?”

“Should I go on?”

The two of us stared at each other for a few minutes.

I said, softly, “I’ve seen Will look that way with two people. That would be Kristen and you. Kristen is his sister. I know it’s deeper with you, though.”

Suddenly, everything became clear to me. The missing pieces of the puzzle were falling into place and the picture they revealed was amazing.

Camille lowered her eyes. “When did you figure this out?”

“I knew about Will for a while, but I didn’t know about you until yesterday… but most of it came to me just now.”

Camille nodded. “What did you decide about me?”

“You’re not a slut. Maybe you were at one time, but now you are only pretending. From what I think I know about the tickets, I figure that if your sister made you a slut, then you’d have lost that need to be one once I found the tickets. That would have been a year ago. So, you’ve been pretending. Why? I have no idea.”

Suddenly, another thought hit me. “Fuck! Last year, you told Kristen and me on separate occasions that you had a crush on her—I remember it. That was never true, was it?”

Camille was open-mouthed at this.

“Cammy, I was thinking about Lynette yesterday. Lynette and I talk quite a lot. Our favorite topic is Kristen, but we talk about other things. Lynette always said that she had a crush on Kristen. What’s funny is that you used nearly the same words as Lynette, but your actions never matched hers at all. With Lynette, Kristen is her driving focus. I can see that you, on the other hand, were only playing a game with Kristen. I mean, you said you were a slut, so I didn’t look closer. But now…”

Camille still was standing there with her mouth wide open. “But…”

I didn’t let Camille finish. “The big change happened at Kristen’s birthday… when you met Will. You never expected that, did you?”

Camille lowered her eyes again. “No.”

I took a deep breath. There was one other thing that bothered me about Camille, and I figured that it was time to do the experiment.

“Here, Camille,” I said, putting my right hand in my pocket. I pulled out a purple ticket. “Have a ticket.”

Camille’s eyes widened, but she reached out and took the ticket. “You have one wish,” Camille said in a monotone.

“I wish that you will remember what just happened, and realize that the tickets once again work on you.”

“Your wish is my command. HOLY SHIT!” Camille’s face was a mask of horror at the realization that she was once again at the mercy of the tickets.

I shrugged. “Please take care and try not to deceive me again, Camille.” I had delayed this last remark until it was after I made my wish, so that Camille was by no means compelled to obey my request. I already had enough of forcing people to do things with the tickets.

Camille looked aghast at the ticket in her hand. Once again, she was at a loss for words. “How…?”

“It was a hunch—a good one, but it made sense.”

Camille was still staring at the ticket in disbelief. “But… when you handed it to me in the car… and last year… it didn’t work!”

I nodded. “Both times were before I destroyed Tim Hawking’s tickets. I thought something changed. Look at the ticket in your hand.”

Camille furrowed her brow. “What about it?”

“Look at the number.”

The blonde read out, “Two hundred fifty four.”

“I’ve never given out that many. I noticed this when I put them away after using them as a truth serum with Sherry a few days ago.”

“Do you think…”

I shrugged. “My guess is that they combined. The strange thing is that Tim’s tickets didn’t work on you, and my own tickets didn’t work on you… However, now that I have destroyed his, my tickets now seem work on you again.”

“This is weird!”

There was silence for a couple of minutes. Finally, Camille asked, “What do we do now?”

“I want you to love Will. You love him already, so that won’t be a problem. I want you to live your life, but I don’t want you living a lie, and I suspect that you don’t want to live that lie any more. You are not a slut! There’s going to be a big problem if you keep pretending that you’re something that you aren’t. You can tell Will that I think that he’s pretending as well, but I think I know why he does, and I think I even understand it.”

“What about the tickets?”

“They are my problem. I’ll deal with them.”

“But…”

I shook my head with finality. “But nothing, Camille. They are my problem.”

Camille saw the look of determination in my face, and didn’t argue. As with Patty and with Kristen, Camille didn’t seem happy about my decision.

I didn’t care. They were my responsibility after all.

* * *

“What did you do to Camille?” Kristen asked me when we were alone.

“I told her the facts of life, Kris.”

“Huh?”

“I told her that she’s in love with your brother. She is, of course, and you know it. However, you were wrong about her. She’s quite willing to give up everybody else for him.”

Kristen shook her head. “I don’t think so… and my brother…”

I interrupted my sweet Goddess. “Your brother loves her, just as much as we love each other. You were wrong about him as well. He’s been looking for Camille all his life. He just doesn’t realize it completely yet. Maybe he’ll get advice from somebody he trusts.”

“Like who?” Kristen asked, apparently wondering if I meant her.

I remembered that Will dreamed of talking with his mother. If Camille tells him what I told her, then it would only be a matter of time before his mother, or whatever part of his brain was responsible for his visions of her, would confirm what I said.

“He’ll find somebody,” I answered cryptically.

Kristen shook her head and shivered a bit. “You are starting to sound a lot like Patty.”

This brought a smile to my lips. “You’re right! I think Patty would probably say the same about the two of them!”

* * *

On Tuesday, most of the jazz band showed up for the special practice. Some people had other plans or jobs, and that didn’t worry me very much. I had a good idea already who was dedicated to the band and who was interested in the perceived popularity that being a member of the band could bring to them.

I decided to start by explaining my ideas for the talent show.

“I’d like the band to participate, but not just as a group. Instead, I want us to be an enabler for other people to perform as well.” I recounted my apparent success with Doug Dooley and thought—naive as such a thing could be—that others could achieve similar results. Not every performance had to be musical after all.

I ended with a pep talk. “If you have any ideas, no matter how outrageous, let me know! Let’s make this an event that will be an E-ticket for years to come! We want this to become an event that people will want to come back to, year after year.”

Since this rehearsal was planned at the last minute, I didn’t keep people for the full hour and a half. We let out just shy of an hour, which meant that I would have to wait another forty-five minutes for June to come out from her cheerleader practice.

Since I didn’t have anything to do, I wandered onto the football field, where the marching band was doing some drills. They were focusing on marching and patterns, but occasionally played their tunes.

I ended up spending my time in the bleachers watching the marching band. When they played, I would notice how the acoustics of the outdoor setting modified how the sound would reach the audience. I was surprised to see a person actually playing the flute… there was no way that the soft tones of that instrument would ever make it through the morass of sound from the brass instruments to the ears of the people in the bleachers.

After more than a half hour, Mr. Harris, the newly hired marching drill instructor, saw me in the bleachers and came to visit me.

“Ah, Mr. Crittenhouse. Have you reconsidered the marching band?”

I laughed. “I have enough stuff on my plate right now, sir.” I waved toward the band. “I was noticing how different the acoustics are out here compared to how the band sounds in the auditorium.”

Roger Harris gave me a surprised look. “That would be a given.”

I didn’t want to sound like a show off, so I didn’t make any critique of what I saw and especially heard. I instead allowed the marching instructor to talk.

Mr. Harris liked talking about his work. “I’m giving them some traditional marching tunes,” Roger explained. “These are easy to learn, and they can then focus on their drills. Next year, however, we can work on more complicated things.”

“The drills were never interesting to me,” I admitted.

“Ah, but they make the people who watch them interested!”

“I heard that the band will be getting new uniforms this year.”

“Yes, and you know who donated the money that made that possible, Jim.”

I nodded. “They’ll still be blue and yellow. The hats will have two different… what do you call them?”

“The colors are blue and gold,” Mr. Harris corrected. “The hats have plumes.”

“Yeah.”

I saw June walking toward me, and I was sorry that I didn’t have more time to talk with Mr. Harris. He really was a likable person once you got to talk to him about things that really were important to him.

I turned to the teacher. “Have you ever considered doing things… well… differently?”

“This season is going to be different from last year,” Mr. Harris answered. He narrowed his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

My mind conjured up an image in my mind, but I figured that the teacher would really think I was bonkers if I explained it to him. “Oh… I was watching and thought some crazy thoughts.”

“Like what?”

I noticed that the teacher was really interested in my opinion. “Well, here’s something obvious. You don’t have singers!”

Mr. Harris laughed. “Voices would never carry!”

“Hmm. You’re probably right.” I most certainly did not mention that I felt the same about the flute players.

June joined us. She heard my last remark, and frowned at Mr. Harris. The teacher, on the other hand, didn’t really know me that well, and didn’t know that I used that expression when I felt that somebody—usually an adult—didn’t get what I was telling them.

The two of us bade Mr. Harris good-bye, and June led me toward her car.

When we were out of earshot, June asked the question. “What didn’t he understand?”

“I heard the band play a song that I’ve always loved. I was thinking about maybe doing it radically different, but I guess my idea is really way out there. I feel he’s wrong about some of the instruments, though.”

June was silent the rest of the way to her car. After we backed out of the parking spot and were on the road toward the apartment, June finally said, “I know you, Jim. You’ll get him to see things your way, even if you have to bring the entire marching band into the talent show to prove it!”

That comment put a lot of images into my head. I started laughing out loud. “You know, June… that’s a great idea!”

* * *

On Wednesday, I saw Megan Gallagher in the hallway. She was one of the best flute players that I ever heard in person.

“Megan?” I said as I approached her. “Do you have a second?”

“What’s up, Jim?”

“Do you play piccolo?”

Megan looked at me strangely. “Most anybody that plays the flute can play the piccolo. Why do you ask?”

“I have a song that I’d like you to play in the talent show.”

“The piccolo? That’s too harsh for a solo.”

I gave Megan the flute part of a song I heard the marching band play. “The part is actually for a piccolo. See?”

Megan scanned the music and furrowed her brow. “Wow! This is a piccolo feature, isn’t it?”

I told Megan my idea for the talent show and she laughed heartily. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Oh, it’s just the kind of weird thing that I think about.”

Megan continued smiling. “I’d be happy to do this. I have a piccolo at home.”

“I’ll borrow some from Mr. Proilet.”

“Borrow?” Megan asked.

My only answer was a smile.

The bell rang, indicating that the two of us were late for class. We bade farewell and went our separate ways.

* * *

Thursday, the eleventh, was my birthday. I woke up that morning receiving one of June’s mind melting blow jobs.

I sighed, and smiled remembering my favorite line during one of June’s B.J.s a couple of months earlier: “What a way to die!” I made sure that I didn’t utter that line this morning, remembering June’s coughing reaction as she started to laugh while sucking me deep.

Despite the fact that June was busy, my mind registered the fact that I was alone in the master bedroom with June, and I asked, “Where are Kristen and Lynette?”

June, who was situated between my legs with my cock in her throat, simply looked up into my eyes, with a glance that plainly asked, “Do you really expect me to answer you with this monster in my throat?”

June continued her work. All too soon, I started feeling my balls churn. My release was imminent. I went to move my hands onto June’s head, but I found to my surprise that my wrists were bound. I looked from right to left and saw that some red knitting yarn was loosely tied around my wrists and fastened to the bed. It wouldn’t take a lot of effort to break from my restraint, but the fact that it was there told me that I wasn’t to move, so I didn’t.

June sensed my impending release, and simply pulled her head up, releasing my dick entirely. “Happy birthday, Oogie!” she said, giggling.

I watched in stunned silence as June hopped off the bed and out of the bedroom entirely.

I looked at my erection, which was wet and red and demanding attention.

As if on cue, Lynette came into the room, dressed in one of Kristen’s expensive lingerie outfits consisting of a pair of white panties that looked almost like a thin horizontal line around her hips coming to a “T” at her crotch, and a nearly transparent white camisole on top. Neither piece of lingerie hid any erogenous zone on Lynette.

“Birthday boy is awake, Mistress!” Lynette announced. She gave me a beautiful smile, and moved slowly toward my aching member. With a surprisingly high voice, Lynette squealed, “Hmm, Oogie looks excited!”

Just as Lynette’s hands were about to touch my throbbing cock, they suddenly pulled away as I heard a SLAP that surprised the hell out of me.

Looking up, I saw Lynette rubbing her scantily covered ass and Kristen holding a leather riding crop in her hands. I realized that Kristen just whipped Lynette!

Lynette didn’t seem upset, although I could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes from the obvious pain that Kristen’s spanking gave her.

“No touching!” Kristen hissed.

Kristen was wearing a pair of black leather panties and a matching corset, a black eye mask, and what appeared to be a black leather beret. She almost looked as if she were a female biker!

“Yes, Mistress!” Lynette said, her still-wet eyes staring at me and expressing her apology for not being able to attend to my needs.

“June, report back here at once!” Kristen barked.

June hopped back into the room, still naked. “Yes, Mistress?”

Mistress? Since when did June revert to her “slave” persona?

“You’ve left my boyfriend in a bit of a fix. Look at him!”

“He looks hard,” June said, grinning.

“And you are responsible!” Kristen brandished her riding crop in her hands.

For an awful moment, I thought Kristen would spank June. I couldn’t allow that. “No, Kris!”

“Shut up!” Kristen snapped at me as she waved her crop before my eyes.

I instinctively flinched, but Kristen already turned back to June. There was menace in her eyes.

“Do you want me to finish him off?” June asked, meekly.

I noticed now that June’s voice sounded a bit funny, almost as if she was a little girl. June was obviously playing a game with Kristen! I breathed in, not realizing that I was holding my breath as this scene was playing out.

“No, slave!” Kristen said. “I want you to get him excited without touching him.”

Lynette pointed out, “He’s already excited.”

“You shut up, too, Bitch!” Kristen barked. Once again, she raised the crop into the air menacingly.

Kristen was taking her “Mistress” role very seriously. This was the first time I heard her call Lynette anything worse than “Slut.”

Lynette lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mistress.”

Kristen turned to June. “I want the two of you to put on a show for us. Let’s see if you have it in you to get Jim off.”

Immediately, June and Lynette approached each other. I watched, amazed, as Lynette bent down to kiss June tenderly on the lips.

Kristen sat on the bed next to me as the two of us watched Lynette and June kiss each other deeply.

“Excited?” Kristen whispered to me.

“Not really,” I admitted. “June’s not really into this scene.”

“This whole scene was her idea. This is her idea of a birthday present.”

“What’s with the whip?”

“It’s a new toy for Lynette,” Kristen whispered, smiling.

“She looked as if you hurt her.”

Kristen shrugged. “The pain has probably gone.”

While Kristen and I were whispering, the two girls were still kissing. I could see that tongues were being exchanged between the two girls.

If June was pretending that she was having fun, it was a damned great performance!

Lynette’s hand started fondling June’s breast, and June’s hand quickly followed.

I watched in awe as the two girls got into their playing. I have seen Lynette doing this with Kristen quite often, but this was the first time that I saw June actively touching another woman sexually. This made the scene even more erotic for me.

“I can see you’re impressed,” Kristen whispered, stroking my turgid erection very lightly. I moved my hips up to get her to stroke me harder, but Kristen pulled her hand away playfully. “Uh, uh,” Kristen whispered, shaking her head. “This is June’s scene for you.”

Groaning in frustration, I saw Lynette was now bending even lower and was now starting to suck on June’s breast. Her hand already moved to June’s crotch.

There was a look of ecstasy on June’s face as Lynette’s talented fingers went to work. June’s eyes were clenched together, and her face was a mask of joy.

Lynette started driving June toward an orgasm. I knew from months’ experience that June got very vocal when this happened.

As if on cue, June started to whimper. “Fuck, Lynette!”

Once more, I felt Kristen briefly stroke my erection. My body was going crazy. I didn’t know how much more of this I could stand.

As I watched the two girls fondle each other, and heard June’s quickly deteriorating shouts of profanity, I found my hips moving up and down, seemingly on their own volition. I could see June’s obvious excitement at what Lynette was doing to her. Kristen once again ran her hand quickly and lightly on the outside of my erection, although she didn’t do anything like jack me off.

One more time, Kristen’s hand brushed lightly on the bottom of my dick, rubbing ever so slightly at the junction where the head meets the shaft. For some reason, this triggered my release.

As Kristen’s hand pulled quickly away, jets of my semen started to shoot out.

One of the streams managed to actually hit Kristen on the chin, which I think surprised her. Most of the rest, however, ended up on my legs and my stomach, although a few strands were on the bed sheets.

I looked at June and Lynette, and June was staring at me with a big smile on her face. “I did it! I did it!”

Lynette smiled at June. “Yes, you did, honey.”

“Come over here, June,” Kristen said, inviting June to our bed. “You did this to him, you get to clean him up!”

“By myself?” June asked in awe.

Kristen smiled at the small, black cheerleader. “Sure thing!”

Now this was an interesting turn of events. Kristen was usually greedy with the output of my dick, mostly because of her ticket-induced need for my sperm.

“Goody, goody!” June said, giggling. She moved onto the bed and started to lick up the remnants of my ejaculate.

Kristen quietly left the bed, and I saw Lynette quietly lick up the bit of semen that was still on Kristen’s chin and then feed it back to Kristen.

I smiled, realizing that June wasn’t aware that this just happened.

June made quick work of the mess on my legs and stomach, and ended up rubbing her breasts against my side as she kissed me. “I love you, Oogie! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, June!” I said, truly thankful.

Breakfast consisted of blueberry pancakes, made by June.

I couldn’t think of a better way to start a birthday.

* * *

I was greeted by “Happy birthday, Oogie!” by a few people when I got to school that day. The odd part was that I didn’t know some of the people who said it. I knew that I was sort of a minor celebrity at the school, but how did people know it was my birthday?

June, who was with me, didn’t seem surprised by this.

“Who was that?” I asked June when a girl I never met wished me a happy birthday.

June shrugged. “Beats me.”

“How does she know it’s my birthday?”

June finally smiled. “I guess you’re popular, Oogie!”

When I walked into class at third period, everybody in the band room got up and said, at once, “Happy birthday, Oogie!”

Now I knew there was a plot. I loved it!

During lunch, almost everybody in the room came up to the cheerleader table where I was sitting and said the same thing to me. I started to take it in stride.

After a couple of dozen well wishers, however, I decided to try to strike up conversations with the people who were wishing me a happy birthday.

“Thank you,” I said to a girl that I recognized was in Merry’s grade. “And what’s your name?”

The girl was taken aback. “Um… Heather.”

“Well, thank you, Heather! I really appreciate it.”

June giggled as I turned the situation around.

After Heather, I made it a point to learn everybody’s name. I probably wouldn’t remember their names for long; I was terrible at remembering names and faces. However, I was no longer feeling embarrassed.

One thing that I noticed, was that Sherry looked distracted.

“What’s up, Sherry?” I asked, a bit concerned.

“Um… nothing.” Sherry’s demeanor completely changed as she smiled.

A male voice distracted me. “Happy birthday, Oogie!”

I recognized that voice, and when I turned, I knew I was right. “Thank you, Doug. How’s it going with Becky?”

I turned and noticed that Becky wasn’t at our table, but then saw that she was not far behind Doug.

“It’s going great! Thanks for everything!”

Becky finally caught up with Doug. “Hi, Becky!” I said before she could wish me a happy birthday.

Becky reddened a bit. “Hi, Oogie. Um…”

I considered waiting, remembering that Sherry said that Becky was shy. However, I figured that would only put the spotlight on her. “Is Doug teaching you magic?”

“Um… yes!”

“That’s great. I’m glad the two of you are hitting it off.”

“Yeah… thanks,” Beck said, looking at Doug. Finally, she managed to say, “Happy birthday, Oogie!”

I laughed. “Thanks, Becky!”

* * *

I thought I just about got over the embarrassment of just about the entire school wishing me a happy birthday, when Mr. Yank, the school principal stopped me in the hallway.

“Mr. Crittenhouse!”

“Yes?” I said, a bit surprised.

“Happy birthday… Oogie, isn’t it?”

“Um, yes. That’s what people call me.”

“I think Jean Proilet said that nickname came from a song you recorded for Ms. Swift.”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “First day of school last year.”

“I saw her around the campus today. Jean says that she’s doing a great job helping out in the music department.”

“I guess.” I nodded.

“Well, we all appreciate what the two of you are doing for the morale of the school. The two of you are exactly what we are looking for as role models for our students. You should be proud.”

For some reason, the image of a naked Kristen giving me a blow job in an empty music room last year came immediately to mind. Some role model we were!

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to let that vision fluster me. “I hope you come to the talent show in a few weeks.”

“Are you performing?”

I shook my head. “Not directly. Some of my friends are going to help a lot of people throw on a bitchin’… um… sorry… a great show!”

I reddened as I realized what I said.

“Well, if it promises to be a ‘bitchin’ show,’ as you say, then I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Mr. Yank smiled at me, his eyes sparkling.

“Um, thanks, Mr. Yank. I need to get to class!”

“OK. Bye.”

* * *

After school let out, I found Sherry as she was just entering the girls’ locker room. “Sherry?”

Sherry didn’t seem to hear me and went inside.

I glanced at the door. I remember Jackie telling me that I was always welcome in that room, but I knew for a fact that right now, some of the girls were getting dressed.

However, I still needed to speak to Sherry.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.

I saw about a half dozen girls on a bench. One of them wasn’t wearing a shirt, and had only a bra covering her chest. There was another one with a cheerleader top on who was pulling up her yellow panty bottoms.

The girls saw me, but didn’t scream—or even hide!

Instead, the girls said, one by one, “Happy birthday, Oogie!”

I sighed and turned to see Sherry looking at me. She was fully dressed in her school clothes. “Were you looking for me?” She had that distracted look in her eyes again.

“Yeah. I was going to ask you…” I finally got embarrassed at being in the locker room as girls were continuing to casually get dressed. “Can we go outside?”

“Um… sure, Jim.”

Sherry and I went out of the room back in the hall. A couple of cheerleaders passed us without comment.

“Was this ‘happy birthday’ thing your idea?”

Once again, I saw Sherry’s face completely change. She nodded and grinned. “We—the cheerleaders—all decided to do it. You’re not angry, are you?”

“How did you get Mr. Yank in on this?”

“Mr. Yank?”

“He stopped me in the hall and said, ‘Happy birthday, Oogie!’”

“He did?” Sherry was genuinely surprised. “How cool is that?”

I sighed. “Well, thanks. I need to get to rehearsal.”

Sherry stared at me as I walked away.

* * *

In the music room, the band was waiting for me.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OOGIE!” they all shouted, including the two music teachers who were at the back of the room.

“Great one, guys!” I said, smiling. “Now, let’s get to the business at hand. I’ve been working on some songs for the Christmas concert…”

A sophomore trombone player named Frank Rizzo looked confused. I knew him from junior high, and he was quite talented. Frank asked, “We’re not planning the talent show?”

“No,” I said. “That’s not our event. It’s being run by the chorus under Ms. Kendall’s supervision. If somebody needs the entire band to help out for a particular performance, have them let us know and I’ll make sure we have people that can help out. I was thinking that most people will just need one, two, or maybe four people to accompany them—not the entire band. The talent show is voluntary, and is not intended to be a feature for the band. It’s our way of giving back to the music department all the support they give us throughout the year. The chorus can use the money, since they have been invited to a performance in Chicago before New Year’s. We’re going to help them get there without having the students spend their own money.”

There was some general murmuring throughout the room at my answer, but the tittering went down after about a minute.

The rehearsal went well, and the band didn’t seem to have much problem with the new songs I worked on over the summer. After all, most of the songs were recognizable Christmas tunes.

One of the songs was different. People recognized the tune, but even Roy, who sang lead on it, didn’t know where it was from. After the first run-through, Roy asked the question. “OK. I’ve heard this before, but this is really a blues number. Where does Christmas Time Is Here come from?”

“Does anybody know?” I asked. I specifically turned to where Amy was sitting.

Amy shyly raised her hand. “From the Charlie Brown Christmas special?”

“Right,” I said, smiling.

There was some murmuring as people recognized the scene of Charlie Brown picking out the mangiest tree in the lot, and the raw emotion that the song invoked.

I noticed that Kristen was once again working with Tina, and during that song, I heard the young girl play for the first time. She played very well, and had a pretty good grasp of the blues, quite unlike Amy last year. If there was a problem, it was that she didn’t seem comfortable with the electronic keyboard that she was using. I saw her hitting the keys a bit too hard, but also saw Kristen helping her out there, so I didn’t mention anything to avoid embarrassing her.

I let the band out fifteen minutes early, since the rehearsal went so well. I asked a few people to stick around afterward as a favor.

When we were mostly alone, I had Frank Rizzo, James Gripper, Amy Grant, and Steve Rivera standing around me.

Frank Rizzo was a hotshot trombone player who I remembered when I was in junior high. He really enjoyed playing his horn, and always played first position. James Gripper was a senior who played trumpet very well, and didn’t have time for the jazz band last year for some reason. Amy Grant played piano, of course, and Steve Rivera was a junior who played drums and percussion.

“What did you want to see us about?”

“A rock band,” I answered. “I figure I can get Kristen to play bass, and Gerry Pembroke from last year to play guitar. He had a band last year but they broke up.”

“So this is outside the jazz band,” James said.

“Exactly,” I said, nodding. “I’ve told some people that I’m interested in doing a gig at Puppy Dawg’s. Gerry Pembroke can get us an audition, and I think that Kristen and he would make a killer guitar section.”

“I’m cool with it,” Frank said, “as long as I get some solos.”

“No problem with that,” I said, smiling. I had anticipated Frank’s request.

Amy smiled at me, but didn’t answer.

“A rock band,” James said, his eyes getting misty. “Could we play some Chicago tunes?”

“Sure,” I said, assuring the trumpet player. “Blood Sweat and Tears as well. Also dance music.”

“Not disco!” Frank cried, touching the back of his right hand to his forehead as if he were about to faint.

“Of course not,” I said, laughing. “I just don’t want to limit ourselves. When Kris and I played in Lafayette, we did a lot of Sinatra tunes, bosa-nova… things you might think of as old fashioned, but the songs have great melodies. We also played some Elton John and even a Beatles tune. I think we should also add some classic jazz tunes such as those sung by Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong, Dizzy Gillespie, and so on. That way, we don’t shoe-horn ourselves into any single genre.”

We continued discussing ideas, and even Amy started to offer some suggestions.

“I’d love to perform, but I think you can play the piano much better than me,” Amy said.

“I’d like to help out on trumpet or any of the other instruments occasionally. I need a dedicated keyboardist.”

Amy looked confused. “Keyboardist?”

“Don’t limit yourself to piano. Kris is getting your sister up to speed on the electric. There’s organ, and I saw some bitchin’ equipment at my birthday party last weekend!”

“If you think so.” Amy looked doubtful.

Kristen had come up behind Amy as I said that. “I think you’d be wonderful in such a band, Amy.”

Amy didn’t answer, but shrugged.

I got tentative OK’s from the people that I asked, and I realized that I would have to start putting together some realistic arrangements soon. It was one thing for me to do an impromptu lounge act with a gifted improvisational trumpeter such as Archy; these other people would require music and practice, despite their talents.

* * *

Tina was still sitting at the keyboard after I left the group, and I went over to see her. I was careful; if she looked as if she was going to run away, I’d walk away quickly.

Tina seemed just a little less shy than the last time I saw her. She saw me come, and even nodded at me.

“That was a great rehearsal… can I call you Oogie?”

“Sure thing, Tina!”

“Happy birthday, Oogie!” Tina’s face lit up as she smiled at me.

“Thank you. You played pretty well, Tina,” I said.

“Amy and Kris have been teaching me the styles you play.”

“You’re picking them up fast.”

Amy and Kristen came up behind me. Tina saw them approach.

“Thank you. Amy surprised Mom last year when she played that Charlie Brown song at home.”

“Which one? Linus and Lucy?”

Tina nodded. “She taught it to me, you know.” She started playing it on the electric piano.

“That’s great,” I said, smiling.

Amy approached her sister. “We need to get home, Tina.”

“Sure thing.”

The two girls said good-bye, and left Kristen and me alone.

I nodded in the direction where Tina and Amy were leaving. “Both girls are very talented.”

Kristen nodded in agreement. “Their father was a musician in college, but now helps do the weather forecast at a T.V. station in Chicago. I think they get their talent from him.”

“Hmm,” I said. I heard many similar stories from others before, albeit not being a weather man. “Why does nearly everybody who studies music quit? It can’t just be about the money.”

“Money is important to people ready to raise a family,” Kristen said. “Also, they don’t really quit. They just realize that they can’t make a living at it. The Chicago Symphony has a lot of people in it that thought they were the best people that ever picked up an instrument… until they met the others in the Symphony. For each opening, there are hundreds, maybe thousands, of people trying to audition.”

I wasn’t sure if I agreed with Kristen. “If you say so…”

“Look in the Help Wanted section in the paper some day. How many jobs do you see for a clarinet player?”

“Do you think I’m doomed to failure, Kris?”

Kristen shook her head adamantly. “No, Jim. You’re very different. I’ve heard people call you a child prodigy, but they’re wrong. You have a unique approach to music. I can’t put it into words…”

“He feels music,” Mr. Proilet offered, overhearing our conversation. “He can see the entire musical score without even glancing at the music. He has nearly perfect pitch, and the ability to separate music into separate parts. He can listen to Blood Sweat and Tears on the radio, and easily write down any of the parts immediately afterward. Add to all that the fact that he also works harder than any other musician that I’ve ever met. Hard work, talent, spirit, and ability… it’s a tough combination to beat.”

I sighed. “I’m not perfect.”

“No, you’re definitely not perfect,” Kristen said. “But you’re mine.”

I smiled.

The two of us bade farewell to my music teachers, and headed out of the school.

As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t like people telling me how good I am. I decided to change the subject.

“So, what does Happy Birthday Oogie need to do tonight?” I asked.

“Hey!” Kristen protested. “That wasn’t my idea! I think it was June’s.”

“June? I thought it was Sherry’s idea.”

Kristen shrugged. “I heard it from June.”

“What’s happening tonight?” I repeated.

“Oh, you’ll see!”

In the parking lot, June and Sherry were both out there with a couple of other cheerleaders, and the two of us went over to where they were.

As we approached, Sherry started walking quickly toward us. “Jim? Can I see you for a few moments?”

“Sure, Sherry.”

I let Sherry lead me back toward the school entrance. “What’s up?”

Sherry’s voice was quiet. “It’s been bad all day.”

I knew that Sherry looked strange earlier. “What’s been bad?”

“I feel… you know…”

Oh, shit. “Yeah, I know.”

“What should I do?” Sherry asked.

“Why don’t you meet me tomorrow in the music room? Fifth period.”

“Lunch?”

“Sure. Ask Mr. Proilet for a hall pass tomorrow morning. Tell him that we’re working on something for the talent show.”

Sherry nodded.

I pulled Sherry closer to me and hugged her. “It will be all right, Sherry.”

Sherry didn’t answer, but I could feel her body shivering next to mine.

Oh, yeah. I wasn’t going to feel like a rapist any more. That lasted what… a whole fucking day? Two days?

Happy birthday, Oogie.

Chapter 44—Seventeenth Birthday Continued

When you hold my hand,

I understand

The magic that you do,

You’re my dream come true,

My one

And only you,

The Platters / Ringo Starr

Only You

Kristen noted that I was no longer very cheerful on the ride home. It was obvious that my mood changed after I talked with Sherry. Kristen knew Sherry’s problem, and I think she understood my mood.

Despite the fact that I decided that I was going to take charge of my life, it was evident that there were still some problems caused by the tickets that I was clueless how to fix.

For some reason, I was reminded of a short story I read when I was in junior high called The Monkey’s Paw. It was a story of unintended consequences when people interfered with fate. The ending reminded me of the kind of stories you’d see on the old Alfred Hitchcock Presents or Twilight Zone T.V. shows. I think it was the influence of that particular short story, though, that now made me hesitant to try to “fix” Sherry’s problem using the tickets.

For the past year, I was quite ineffective in using the tickets to remove Kristen’s addiction. The explanation I was given (by Kristen under influence of the tickets), was that no ticket could be more powerful than any other. I thought about this limitation, and I had some questions about the inadequacy of that explanation. For instance, if no ticket was stronger than another, then how could the first wish prevent the second or any other subsequent wish from undoing it? Didn’t that make the first wish more powerful?

The magic behind The Monkey’s Paw, however, did not have this particular limitation. It was the traditional “you have three wishes” story that was made famous by the genie in Aladdin’s lamp and the Irish leprechaun stories.

The tickets I had weren’t limited to three wishes. Apparently, a couple of hundred wishes had already been granted, although the majority of them hadn’t been granted to me. However, they still had that stupid limitation.

Patty once told me that this limitation on my tickets made it nearly impossible to fix any rash decisions made. “You need to think very hard before you use them, Jim,” Patty told me. “If you use them when you are in an emotional state, you’ll regret it.”

Patty’s explanation tied back in to The Monkey’s Paw. After all, the person who knew about the paw actually explained in the story that sorrow would befall anybody that used it.

On the other hand, the tickets were responsible for Kristen and me being together, even if indirectly. That would be a good thing, wouldn’t it?

I took a deep breath, and realized that we were just driving past the gate at the Swift’s residence.

“I’m sorry, Kris. I’m not good company right now.”

“You’ve got a lot on your mind, Jim,” Kristen said softly. “I understand.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“If it makes you feel better, whatever you decide with regard to Sherry is all right with me.”

“Thanks, Kristen. Can we talk about something else?”

“Like what?”

“Like, what are we doing tonight?”

Kristen smiled as she parked the car. “What do you want to do?”

“Kris, I know you have plans. I’ve already had a surprise party. So, why the surprise now?”

“A girl has got to have her secrets, Oogie!”

I laughed, and Kristen joined me.

The burden of the tickets had been temporarily lifted.

* * *

Lynette was already at the apartment, having stayed home the entire day to bid Camille and Will off instead of attending cheerleader practice. Harry drove Camille and Will to Chicago about an hour before we got home to catch their flight to Boston.

In the apartment, I could smell that Lynette was cooking up one of her meals that would make a gourmet salivate.

“What’s cooking, Lynette?” I called into the kitchen.

“Your favorite, Oogie.”

I had grown quite partial to Lynette’s schnitzels. By far, my favorite was Jägerschnitzel, served with a burgundy-cream gravy with wild mushrooms. “Schnitzel,” I said, making a yummy sound. “Sounds great.”

“I’ve made some spaetzle and some butternut squash as well.”

Lynette and Kristen were trying to get me to eat more vegetables and we found that I liked most of the various squashes, especially the way that Lynette would prepare them, lightly spiced.

The dining room table had Kristen’s good china set, the ones with the gold trim. She inherited this set from her grandparents after her grandfather died when Kristen was very young. This was the first time that I saw them set out.

There were two unlit candles in shining silver holders on the table.

“How long will it be?” Kristen asked.

“That depends on how hot you can make Jim,” Lynette called back.

Kristen sighed. “You’ve been hanging around Camille too long this week. She’s a bad influence.”

“Maybe you should pun-ish Lynette, huh?” I asked.

A groan from Kristen was my response.

“We’ve never used these plates before,” I said, changing the subject back to what I was thinking earlier. “I mean, I’ve seen them in the china closet.”

Kristen had lit a candle lighter and was lighting the two candles. “It’s a special occasion. Lynette asked if she could set them out, and of course I said yes.”

“Those were your grandmother’s, right?”

Kristen nodded. “On my father’s side.”

Lynette came out with a platter containing the veal. I started to head inside the kitchen to get the rest of the dishes when Kristen stopped me, and pointed to the chair at the head of the dining room table.

“The birthday boy sits there.”

I took my seat, and Kristen and Lynette went into the kitchen to retrieve the rest of the dishes. Kristen had a bowl with the spaetzle in it, and Lynette had the squash and a china gravy boat with some extra gravy.

After setting up the dishes, Lynette approached me and gave me a big kiss. “Happy birthday, Oogie!”

That wasn’t the first time I heard that particular expression all day, and I smiled.

Kristen was next, and did the same, and afterward, the two girls took the seats on either side of me. The girls looked at me expectantly, and I reached out and took a piece of veal and placed it on my plate. I then helped myself to the noodles and vegetable, and then put a generous helping of the mushroom gravy on top of my noodles.

Once I was done, Kristen and Lynette did their own plates, and we ate.

The meal was excellent, as was anything that Lynette cooked. I talked about the cheerleaders’ little game of having the entire school greet me by nickname.

“I thought Sherry’s idea would be cute,” Lynette said.

“You knew, too?” I suspected as much when Lynette said “Happy birthday, Oogie,” at the table.

“Yeah.” Lynette looked a bit concerned. “Of course, Sherry hasn’t been looking well over the last few days. I’m sorry I missed the practice today, but on Tuesday, something seemed a bit wrong with Sherry. She was easily distracted.”

“She looked weird today, too,” Kristen said.

Of course, Kristen and I knew Sherry’s problem. We agreed a while back not to let Lynette know about the tickets, and this meant that we sometimes had to keep other things from Lynette as well. Neither Kristen nor I liked this situation at all, since it was sometimes hard keeping secrets from somebody who was such an intimate part of our lives.

“Maybe it’s problems at home,” I suggested.

Lynette shook her head. “Sherry would tell me if that was the case.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll talk to June to see if she has any idea.”

Kristen shrugged off the matter, but then said, “I’ve decided on my birthday present for you, Oogie.”

I remembered Kristen’s last birthday suggestion, and hoped this wouldn’t be a repeat of it.

“Yeah?” I said, a bit warily.

“I’d like to go shopping tonight. We need to pick you out a nice accessory.”

“Accessory?”

Lynette giggled. “Kristen wants you to learn to accessorize, Oogie.”

This discussion was a bit over my head. I thought “accessories” in a fashion sense meant gloves or a purse. Those didn’t sound like things I needed. “Whatever you think is best, Goddess.”

Of course, my response earned me another kiss from Kristen.

* * *

At the mall, we went to a place named “Sky Catchers.” The place seemed to contain a lot of specialty stuff, and I had never gone inside the store before.

Once inside, I was sorry I hadn’t visited this place sooner. This place had all sorts of outlandish clothes for just about every occasion, from safari hats (“pith helmets”) to thickly insulated parkas.

I found myself instantly drawn to the aviator section, and was admiring a pilot’s helmet with goggles that looked like it came straight out of World War I. The sign said it was made from genuine calf’s leather.

As I attempted to take the helmet into my hands for a closer look, Kristen stopped me.

“That might be fun, Oogie, but I came here for a purpose.” Kristen had a dark brown hat in her hand. “Here, try this.”

I looked at the hat with dismay. It looked a bit like something that would be worn by the depression-era thugs that Chicago was famous for. Upon further urging by Kristen, I put it on. It was very tight.

“Hmm, let’s try a quarter inch wider.”

Lynette fetched another hat that looked identical.

I put on the second hat, and it fit much nicer.

Both Lynette and Kristen shook their heads when they looked at me with the hat on. “Nope, definitely not a fedora.”

The two girls had me try on more than a few hats. The derby looked too much like Lou Costello, the cowboy hat made me look like I was a kid playing dress up, and a top hat made me look like a magician. I liked the stetson, but both Kristen and Lynette didn’t like it. Finally, the two girls found another hat that appealed to me. It was black and, as soon as I put it on, I looked in the mirror and smiled.

“Hey! I like this one!”

Kristen sighed. “It figures. He likes the porkpie.”

The “porkpie” was a darker and smaller hat, and had a folded ring around the top of the hat. The material was very soft.

Lynette gave me a closer look. “With a mustache, he’d look like a jazz musician.”

Actually, I think that’s what I liked about this particular hat!

“Is this your present, dearest?” I asked my Goddess.

“Do you really like it? We can buy a couple and it could be like, your trademark.”

I didn’t think I could walk around the school wearing this hat, but it might make in impression during jazz band.

“Yes. This whole place is great! Look at those hats over there with the corks on the brim!”

“Those are brush hats,” Kristen said, smiling. “The corks are to keep the mosquitoes and other bugs from landing on your face.”

“Cool! Let’s get that one!”

Kristen shook her head. “Oogie’s right. There are worse hats than the porkpie!”

We spent about an hour in the store, although we only purchased a couple of the porkpie hats.

From the mall, it was a quick ride to Vaughn’s. Since we already had supper, I was curious until the manager met us. “Kristen, Lynette, and Jim! We’ve been expecting you!”

In the dining room was a larger table than our normal one. My parents and Merry were already sitting there.

As soon as we got to the table, a waitress came out with a birthday cake, and the entire staff starting singing the birthday song. They were quickly accompanied by nearly the entire dining room!

I blew out the candles, and the cake was cut.

I gave all the females at the table a kiss and a hug. The cake was devil’s food with dark chocolate icing. Even Merry had a slice—and this was the first time since she decided to become a cheerleader that I ever saw her eat dessert!

The waitress brought us some iced teas, and we sat around the restaurant, gossiping with my family.

“How does it feel to be seventeen?” Merry asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t feel that much older, Shortcake.”

“I remember when you were first learning the piano,” Mom said.

I sighed. My mother sometimes waxed nostalgic. I tried to deflect this. “Speaking of the piano, Mom… I know you love Chopin, right?”

My mother smiled a bit. “Yes. He’s one of my favorite composers.”

“Do you remember Amy Grant, the girl who played the piano in the jazz band last year?”

My mother nodded. “Cute girl,” she said. “She seemed very shy when we went to see you after the Christmas performance.”

“She’s going to be featured doing an adaptation of Chopin’s Prelude in C Minor during the talent show in a few weeks.”

“Really?”

“She loves classical music, but we’re also teaching her jazz and rock riffs. Roy Fennel will be accompanying her.”

Merry smiled at this.

My mother looked confused. “Isn’t Roy a singer?”

“He’s in the chorus,” I answered. “He’s pretty talented, musically. I taught him to read music back in junior high. Don’t you remember?”

Mom nodded. “He wasn’t that good on the piano back then. Has he improved?”

“Why don’t you tell me after the show?”

It was all that Merry could do not to laugh at my mother’s confusion. Somehow, Mom thought that Roy would be doing a piano duet with Amy, but I had said nothing of the sort.

* * *

That night, after Kristen and Lynette went to bed, I went down to my studio ostensibly to play and record, but in reality to consider my options with Sherry.

I needed to somehow get rid of Sherry’s need for me to take her virginity. At the same time, I didn’t really want to make love with Sherry. After all, she still might have a crush on me. I didn’t feel any romantic attraction toward her, and I knew that going to bed with Sherry would just be taking advantage of her.

Sherry was a real friend to Kristen and me, as well as to Lynette. I owed her something for that loyalty, even if it didn’t mean taking her to bed.

I felt that I was indirectly responsible for Sherry’s situation. I didn’t make the wish that currently had her bound to me, but I was the person who destroyed Tim Hawking’s tickets, which was apparently why I was now the target of her need.

Earlier that afternoon, I had given up any thought of using the tickets to fix Sherry’s problem. After all, one ticket couldn’t cancel the effects of another one.

Actually, I reasoned, that might not be the case!

I was able to keep Sherry from having to orally service me daily until my birthday by extending the wish so that playing with herself would achieve the same end. That had the effect of canceling her original compulsion.

I wished that I had talked more to Sherry earlier. She said she felt it bad, but I never asked her what she was feeling. Was it the need to fuck me, or the need to blow me?

The idea of extending a wish rather than canceling it came from my idea of having Kristen eat a chocolate covered peanut instead of having to blow me. Now that I was thinking about it, Kristen had a difficult time staying away from me for very long; she could stave off her need with the confection, but at the same time, her need for me seemed to continue to build up over time. Almost every time that Kristen and I would make love, her sucking my cock would be a part of it.

Was this what Sherry was feeling earlier? If so, then any idea of extending her need to fuck me would only work for so long until her need for me to do so would overpower anything else within her. I might turn Sherry into a walking time bomb!

Still, something inside me told me that I might be able to fix Sherry’s problem somehow with the tickets.

The only question was how.

More than a few ideas came into my head, but all of them had problems. I needed to find one that would satisfy Sherry’s needs, but be fair to her emotions at the same time.

I woke up after three thirty in the morning when I fell off the piano bench. I didn’t realize that I fell asleep, and I realized that at this hour, there was nothing else I could do.

* * *

The next morning, Mr. Proilet pulled me aside when I got into band class.

“Sherry Jordan asked me for a hall pass so she can work with you here during fifth period.”

“Yeah, Mr. Proilet,” I said. “I’ve asked the cheerleaders to help with the talent show, and I had an idea of something to do with Sherry.”

That wasn’t an out and out lie, actually. It’s just that the first part of the sentence had nothing to do with the second part. I was starting to get good at misleading people. Idly, I wondered if this was a good thing.

“I understand, Jim,” Mr. Proilet said with a smile. “I’ll be in the faculty room eating lunch during that period.”

“Would you want to help out?”

My question earned me a laugh. “There isn’t much that I can teach you, Jim. Helping a student is something you excel at, unless there’s something you specifically think you might need me for.”

“Well, no,” I said. “Playing piano is easy enough for me.”

“OK, Jim,” the teacher said. “Have fun.”

“Thanks.”

* * *

I was in the music room, patiently waiting for Sherry.

She arrived a few minutes after the bell rang.

“Hi, Oogie,” Sherry said nervously.

“Let’s go into one of the practice rooms,” I suggested.

Inside the practice room, I casually reached into my pocket and handed Sherry a ticket.

“You have one wish.”

“I wish that you will obey me completely and without question. Also, you will have no memory of what happens in this room afterward. This wish will remain in effect until you hear me play Honky Cat. When I play that, you will simply think I was playing songs all period long.”

“Your wish is my command.”

I realized that I forgot something. I handed Sherry another ticket.

“You have one wish.”

“While you are in this room and under the influence of the last ticket I gave you, you will also be compelled to tell me the truth. You will feel no emotional distress during this time.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Sherry continued standing there.

Sherry was dressed in a tan skirt and a plain white blouse. This would make things a bit easier.

“Sherry, remove your panties and anything else you may have on underneath your skirt as soon as I turn around. Let me know when you are finished.”

I turned away from Sherry, giving the girl some privacy.

After a few moments, Sherry said, “I’m finished.”

I didn’t turn around. “Do you still feel a need to suck me?”

Sherry answered, “I’ve felt a terrible need over the last few days. Usually, I can fend it off by masturbating, but it’s difficult when I’m in public. I’m always worried that somebody will notice. However, even masturbating doesn’t make the need go away completely, and it’s getting stronger.”

That was what I thought. Of course, this was going to be the hard part.

After a minute or two, I finally unzipped my pants and pulled my dick out. I took a deep breath and turned around.

Sherry was standing there, and she was staring at my erection.

“Sherry, you can put it into your mouth. I want you to do the very least that you need to do to make your need to suck me go away, and then stop.”

Sherry bent down, and opened her mouth. My cock touched her tongue, and her lips wrapped around it. I felt a gentle sucking before her lips parted, and Sherry’s face pulled away.

I was surprised at how short this was. “Has your need gone away?”

“My need to suck you has.”

“And your other need?”

“It’s very strong.”

I nodded.

Sherry tore her eyes from my dick and stared at me. “May I asked a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why am I doing what you are telling me to do? Why am I telling you about masturbating? This is really strange.”

This was intriguing. “Does this upset you?”

“No. That’s also very strange.”

The moment of truth. “Sherry, I will tell you the truth,” I assured her. “You have been a victim of some bad magic. I can do magic also, and I’m doing what I can to fix what has been done to you without harming you.”

Sherry nodded. “That makes sense. Well, it makes sort of sense.”

I decided to get this over with. “I’m going to sit down on this bench, and I want you once again do the very minimum to satisfy your need.” I sat down.

Sherry nodded again, but I saw her resisting. “Jim… Jim!”

Startled, I saw that Sherry was close to panicking. “What’s wrong, Sherry?”

Sherry moved toward me as she said, “Please tell me to wait!”

“OK. Wait.”

Sherry stopped moving. “Jim, am I going to forget all this?”

“Yes.”

“Will it seem like a dream, like some other dreams I have had recently?”

“Other dreams?”

“Yeah.” Sherry didn’t explain.

“Perhaps,” I said. “I’m not really sure.”

“I have a distant memory of you asking me to tell you if anything you ask will make me think less of you.”

I nodded. “I did ask that.”

“In that case, please don’t make me do what you just asked. I would think less of you.”

Surprised, I asked, “Why?”

“This will be my first time. I don’t want my first time to be meaningless.”

I sighed. I was afraid of something like this. I fell asleep trying to come up with something better. I was now going to have to play this by ear.

Wait a minute. Why not have Sherry help? After all, she would have no memory later.

“All right, Sherry. Do not feel compelled to do what I’ve just asked you to do. Instead, I’d like you to help me with your problem.”

Sherry looked confused. “How can I help you?”

“First, Sherry, you are correct. You will have no memory of what goes on in this room after this period is over. Whatever happens here, you will never remember, or perhaps, you will think of it as a dream. I don’t know how that works, actually.”

Sherry nodded again.

“You are under a…” I paused, trying to come up with the right word. “A magic spell. You needed to give up your virginity to me on my birthday. That came and went, and your need is starting to increase. I want to get rid of that need before it consumes you and forces you to, perhaps, rape me.”

“If you have magic, just undo the spell.”

“That’s what most people would try to do. However, my magic doesn’t work against other magic. I didn’t do this to you; I’m merely trying to help you fight it.”

Sherry furrowed her brow. “Tim has the magic?”

“I took his magic away from him.”

“Is that why his spell transferred to you?”

I was amazed at how observant Sherry was. “That’s correct.”

“Jim, as much as I feel a need to fuck you, I don’t want to do it like you said. I don’t want to… give it up without it being special.”

“Sherry, I don’t love you that way. You’re a very important friend, but we’re not romantically involved. If I were to ‘make love’ to you, it wouldn’t be fair to either of us.”

Sherry considered what I said. “You’re right.”

“As I said, your need will continue to grow until you won’t be able to handle it any more. We need to fix it.”

“I’m not going to remember this?” Sherry asked.

“Perhaps as a dream, if you remember other things I have done to try to fix what Tim did to you.”

Once again, Sherry nodded.

“I have a wish to make.”

Funny word Sherry chose. “What is it?” I asked.

“Can we do a little more than just the minimum like you asked? Something that I can dream about, maybe?”

I thought about this. “What do you want to do?”

“We don’t have to fuck, I don’t think. We don’t need to go to bed together and… you know. But… if I feel you inside me, I won’t be a virgin any more. However, I have always had a dream… a fantasy…”

“Yes?”

“Can I please feel your body against mine? Could you kiss me and let me kiss you? I dream that we kissed one time in the room outside this one… our first kiss.”

Ah, the stolen kiss from Sherry. “You dream about that?”

“It’s a favorite…” Sherry reddened.

I got the hint. It’s Sherry’s favorite masturbation fantasy.

“All right. And I’ll give you a bonus.”

“What?”

“When is your birthday?”

“Early December.”

“Then, on your birthday, if you still feel the same way for me, let me know. I’ll make love to you… for real. However, I don’t want you to take my promise as an incentive to just hold out and wait. I want you to seriously consider other people than me. I want you to go out on dates, think about other people. If you do that, and still feel the same way about me, I’ll reconsider. That should give me some time to think about my feelings toward you.”

Sherry didn’t answer, but nodded. Her hand went to her blouse, and she started to unbutton it.

Shit! When Sherry wanted to feel my body against hers, she meant naked!

I bit my lip, and got up and removed my clothes.

After a couple of minutes, the two of us were facing each other, both of us naked, for the first time ever.

Slowly, I moved over to Sherry, and pulled her toward me. As her breasts touched my chest, I kissed her.

The kiss lasted a few minutes, and Sherry was breathing heavily when we parted. “Hmm,” she moaned.

I felt a bit awkward, as if I didn’t know what to do.

Sherry said, “How should we do it?”

I figured that a rear insertion was the easiest, even if it didn’t allow Sherry the opportunity to have her breasts against me once again. I positioned her against the piano, and squatted down a bit and rubbed the head of my dick against her cunt lips, which were already wet. I found her hole.

This was the first time that I was doing this with a virgin. I had no idea how tight she would be, or how difficult it would be to break through her hymen. I also remembered Kristen saying something about blood.

I pushed very gently… almost too much so. After a bit, Sherry’s pussy opened. I met no resistance at all as I continued to slowly push until I was completely in. I was amazed!

“I thought you were…”

“I am,” Sherry said. “I tore my hymen in junior high during gymnastics. I can now wear tampons…”

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. Feminine hygiene wasn’t a subject that I felt comfortable talking about.

“Could we do it face to face? I want my dreams to be of me making love to you, not facing a piano.”

That would mean that I’d have to pull out and do it again. Then, I realized that Sherry was a gymnast. I wondered if she could do something that Lynette once did with me.

Slowly, I pulled Sherry back and manipulated our bodies until I was once again sitting on the bench. I pulled Sherry onto my lap, and then asked if she could swing around. Once Sherry understood what I meant, she easily spun around without any trouble.

Sherry had a look that burned into my eyes, and she pulled my face toward hers and kissed me deeply. It wasn’t a long kiss.

I decided to make it special for Sherry. I reached behind her, and started playing the introduction of a song I’ve always liked. Ringo made it a hit just a year ago, and the arrangement he used was still fresh in my mind.

Sherry pulled away from the kiss and looked in my eyes as I sang:

Only you,

Can make this world seem right.

Only you,

Can make the darkness bright.

Only you and you alone,

Can thrill me like you do,

And fill my heart with love for only you...

I followed this verse with the simple reverse D-seventh arpeggio that was so prominent in Ringo’s version of this classic song. Sherry smiled.

I continued singing the song, and Sherry continued staring at me.

Instead of doing the spoken part, I simply improvised a jazz solo instead, smoothly transitioning the style of the song from the simple back-beat of Ringo’s song to something a bit more bluesy.

I sang a repeat of the song, and finally ended it.

When the song was ended, Sherry kissed me once again.

Even though I wasn’t pumping back and forth into Sherry, I was getting enough stimulation from her minor movements and her kissing that I found myself quite excited. I suddenly realized that this could be dangerous if Sherry wasn’t on the pill.

As soon as Sherry’s kiss ended, I picked her up and off my erection.

Sherry stared at my dick, red and wet from her secretions. “Oh, my… it’s huge!”

Without warning, Sherry bent down and started sucking me. It didn’t take long for me to reach my limit. I tried to warn Sherry, but she only sucked harder.

Blast after blast of my semen shot out of me and into Sherry’s eager mouth. The force of my excitement was such that I wouldn’t have been surprised if it shot out the back of her neck!

After a few minutes, despite Sherry’s continued sucking, my erection started to soften.

I finally managed to get Sherry off my lap.

“Sherry! Why did you do that?”

“The only sexual experience with a guy up until now was with Tim, and it is a memory I’d like to forget. He called me all kinds of names, and at the end, he even said I was so bad, he had to jerk himself off in order to shoot. Since then, I felt so inadequate…”

This eerily sounded similar to what Patty told me about her unpleasantness in tenth grade. I didn’t know what to say.

Sherry said, “You made love to me, Oogie! I sucked you and made you shoot. Tim was just an idiot!”

“A stupid idiot,” I agreed.

“That was me I tasted on you, wasn’t it?”

I nodded. “Sherry? What we did was dangerous…”

Sherry shook her head. “Tim told me to be prepared to give up my virginity. I wasn’t going to let that bastard make me a mother. As soon as he told me that, I went to the clinic and got a prescription.”

“Oh.”

Once again, Sherry kissed me hard.

I looked over her shoulder and saw that there was only five minutes left before the end of the period. I pulled away from that kiss.

“Sherry… Mr. Proilet will be coming back soon. Get dressed.”

Like a shot, Sherry stopped everything and started to get dressed.

I watched, amazed, and realized that I was also naked. I quickly pulled on my clothes as well.

The room smelled like I would imagine a bordello would smell. I could smell Sherry’s excitement throughout the cramped room.

If my teacher or anybody else walked in, we’d be screwed.

“What do you have next period?” I asked.

“Gym. I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to do gym after what we just did. I feel a little… weird.”

“Can you get out of gym?”

“Sure. I’ll just tell the coach that I’ve got my period. I’ve never complained before, so the coach will let me slide this once.”

I shrugged. That concept was new to me, but it made sense. At least Sherry wouldn’t be getting into trouble for that.

Once Sherry was dressed, I told her to sit next to me on the bench, and I started to play Honky Cat, which I knew was one of Sherry’s favorite songs for me to play.

As I played the song, I saw Sherry shake her head. She looked a bit disoriented, and shook her head again. She smiled at me.

“I could listen to you play all day, Oogie.”

I thought about my promise to Sherry. She wouldn’t remember it, of course, but I would. I wasn’t the kind of person that would break such a promise.

I also know that I asked her to go out on dates and to think about other people. She didn’t realize it, but she was compelled to obey me when I asked her to do that.

My decision was to wait. If Sherry still felt the same way about me, I might start thinking about her differently.

One thing was for sure. When my cock was inside Sherry, I meant every word I sang to her. I didn’t mean that I was in love with her, and I didn’t really sing that to her, either. What I sang, and what I meant was that Sherry made me feel a certain way, and only she made me feel that way. This was also true about June, Lynette, and, of course, Kristen.

I loved each one of them differently. I’m not sure what I really felt about Sherry and if it was even love, but what I felt, it was strong at that time. Was she really my destiny? Perhaps she was, or perhaps not.

If you asked me if I loved Sherry any day before this, even last night, I would have emphatically said ‘no!’

Now I wasn’t sure. I do know that Tim Hawking and the tickets put Sherry through hell. Despite that, she still managed to live her life with a happy disposition—a positive outlook in life. I actually admired that about her.

My feelings for Sherry progressed from friendship to admiration. That was a start. I knew that I would need time to sort out my feelings about Sherry. Hopefully, time was on my side.

“I’ve never heard you play Bennie and the Jets,” Sherry said, smiling at me.

I played the introduction, and Sherry’s smile grew bigger when she heard me sing a modified version of the chorus in an Elton-inspired falsetto:

Say, Sherry and Ronnie,

Have you seen them yet?

Oh, but they’re so spaced out!

Buh-Buh-Buh-Bennie and the Jets...

I entertained Sherry throughout sixth period by playing songs the two of us liked.

When we emerged from the practice room at the end of the period, Mr. Proilet didn’t give us much of a glance.

Actually, I didn’t care if we “got away” with anything. All I knew was that Sherry seemed a whole lot happier now, even if she wasn’t exactly aware of why she felt that way.

As for me, I was more concerned over Sherry’s feelings for me, and vice versa. Sure, I had “cured” Sherry’s problem, but at what cost? She gave up her virginity, and now would have no direct recollection of the event.

Once more, I considered the power of the tickets. They were able to turn Camille from a dark brunette into a blonde. In addition, Camille and Debbie both said that the tickets made my dick bigger, although I still had difficulty accepting that.

Could it be possible that I could use the tickets to restore Sherry’s virginity? After all, Sherry didn’t have a hymen when we coupled. What defined “virginity” anyway? Was it simply a state of mind? Would it be affected by her not remembering her losing it?

With whom could I talk about this? I wanted this to be a special thing between Sherry and myself, but this brought up something important as well: this would be one of the first times that I would be actively not telling Kristen something that she might consider important.

I sighed as I made my way to my seventh period English class.

Chapter 45—Jazzing Things Up

It’s the terror of knowing,

What the world is about.

Watching some good friends,

Screaming “Let me out!”

Pray tomorrow... gets me higher!

Pressure on people—people on streets!

Queen and David Bowie

Under Pressure

There was a football game Friday evening, and it would be Merry’s first as a cheerleader. When school let out, I found Kristen in the parking lot, ready to take me home.

“The game starts in just two hours,” I said, protesting slightly.

“I know,” Kristen answered. “I told Lynette that the two of us will pick up some pizzas for the cheerleaders. They have a special practice today, and the game follows right afterward. I figured that we could pick some up from Roman’s.”

This was an excellent idea! “Oh, yeah! Patty’s working today! Are our bags packed?”

“I’ve already brought them to the air field and Uncle Jerry has them stowed.”

“I thought we were driving.”

“What’s the use in having a pilot around if you don’t use him?”

“He’s not your personal pilot, Kris.”

“Not yet.”

I looked at Kristen and saw a sparkle in her eye. She was just kidding with me.

“Having Uncle Jerry take us gives us more time in Chicago, honey. Believe me, he really enjoys flying. I have a hard time paying him as it is—he just wants money for gas!”

“All right.”

At Roman’s, Kristen put in an order for ten pizzas. We figured that most of them would be eaten, and anything left over could be given to the concession stands to sell during the game.

Patty came over to where we were waiting from behind the counter. “So, Jim, how was the birthday?”

“It was nice. Kris and Lynette got me a couple of new hats.”

Patty looked confused. “Hats?”

“Porkpie hats, right Kris?”

Kristen nodded. “We got them from Sky Catchers.”

“I’ve never shopped there,” Patty said. “The stuff in their windows looks weird.”

“I’ll say,” I agreed. “They sell safari helmets, World War One fighter ace helmets, and everything.”

“Sounds as if it would be useful if you were going on safari—or perhaps helping Snoopy shoot down the Red Baron, huh?”

I smiled.

Kristen got up to use the ladies’ room.

When Kristen left, Patty looked at me seriously. “So, what’s really up?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something happened in the last couple of days.”

Patty was about as close to a mind reader that I’ve ever met. “I’ve tackled some problems.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe some other time. I’m still working them out myself.”

“Well, remember that you always have friends, Jim. You don’t have to solve the entire world’s problems, you know.”

“Thanks, Patty. I’ll remember that.”

I realized that keeping secrets from Kristen was going to be hard, but keeping them from Patty would be next to impossible.

* * *

Before the game started, the cheerleaders came onto the field from both sides. Sherry took a running start and flipped end over end for about half the field, finishing on a flip that was a complete somersault in the air. After Sherry finished, two other cheerleaders did a double end over end, and I was surprised afterward when I realized that one of these was Merry.

Kristen, Lynette, and I sat in the stands with my parents. Roy Fennel was sitting next to me on the other side from Kristen.

“Merry seems quite good,” I said, impressed.

“Your sister works hard,” Lynette commented, watching the cheerleaders like a hawk. She had a little memo book and a pencil and it looked as if she was taking notes.

“I never knew she could do those flips,” my step-father commented.

“Merry’s almost got her aerial working,” Lynette said without looking up from her memo book. “She’s not ready to perform it, yet, but she’s getting there.”

I was confused. “What’s an aerial?”

Lynette didn’t move her eyes from the cheerleaders and her memo book, but continued to talk. “An aerial is what Sherry did at the end of her routine. That’s the flip where she went completely around without her hands touching the ground. Merry is still working on that. Ms. D. doesn’t allow any girls to perform such a move during a game until they show real proficiency. An aerial looks impressive, but if a girl misses it, it makes the whole team look silly. Merry’s getting there, but she’s not quite there yet.”

“Ah,” said my step-father.

The marching band played the national anthem, and then sat in the stands, occasionally playing some uncoordinated music. I wondered what I could do to help the band sound better. Despite the fact that I wasn’t in the marching band, they were still representing my school, and anything I could do to help out would help out the school.

The cheerleaders did a pep number featuring a few girls—including Merry—ending up in a side-split, with the rest of the girls standing behind them. All the cheerleaders held their pom-poms in their hands. I was actually proud of my sister.

At half time, the marching band did their show. I saw most of the band’s moves that one time I was hanging out in the stands, and once again, I noticed that the balance of the music, as heard in the stands, could be improved. The patterns they did were slightly different from when I saw them before, though, and the effect was a bit better in terms of hearing the band, but I still thought something could be done to improve them. Unfortunately, I wasn’t an expert on marching bands—we’d probably have to rely on Roger Harris’ expertise.

The football team won, which brought up our spirits at the end of the game. The cheerleaders performed their drills pretty nicely as well.

Merry came running out to where all of us were standing after the game carrying her athletic bag. She was now wearing her “street clothes.” Sherry wasn’t far behind her.

* * *

After the game, we met at Vaughn’s for the second night in a row, except that Roy Fennel and Sherry Jordan accompanied us.

“Well, if it isn’t the birthday boy!” the waitress said, smiling as she recognized me from the previous night.

I reddened in response, and most everybody laughed, with the exception of Roy and Sherry. Merry delighted in telling them about how everybody in Vaughn’s surprised me last night.

Sherry smiled. “The cheerleaders did something similar to that to Oogie yesterday as well.” She went on to describe to my parents what happened yesterday, and even admitted to setting the whole thing up.

“It seems my boy is quite popular at school,” my mother said proudly.

“Jim’s a wonderful person, Mrs. Cummings,” Sherry said, smiling at me. “In the last year or so, he’s reached out and helped quite a lot of people. He’s kind and caring, and seems to be willing to help out anybody who has a problem. He has the music department put on some really great shows, and he’s right now assisting people who want to perform in the talent show.”

Mom turned to Roy and said, “Jim said you’d be doing a duet of a Chopin piece with Amy Grant.”

Roy didn’t realize it was a Chopin song, actually. He looked at me, and I nodded slightly. “Yes, ma’am. Amy Grant and I will be doing a number together.”

I think my mother caught the look between the two of us, but didn’t press the issue. Instead she steered the conversation away from me and toward Roy and then Merry.

It was Merry who first spoke up. “Mom, Roy and I have just been talking to one another at school. It’s not as if we’re going out on dates.”

Merry’s father picked up on that. “My dear, you’re only fifteen years old!”

“I’m going to be sixteen in a couple of weeks!”

The conversation turned uncomfortable, but the waitress showed up with the food at that moment.

We ate in an uneasy silence.

After about five minutes, Lynette broke the silence. “Merry, did Mrs. D. tell you when you’d be able to do the aerial during a performance?”

Merry shrugged. “Maybe in a couple of weeks.”

“The weekend after this, let’s work on them together at the park, if the weather permits. Sherry, would you be able to help out? It would be best if there was more than one spotter.”

Sherry nodded, happy that there was conversation once again. “Sure, Lynette. Merry’s pretty close to getting it.”

The conversation now turned toward the cheerleaders’ performance and other things.

When the meal was done, Kristen picked up the tab. My parents were used to her doing this and didn’t make a big fuss. I knew that Merry was going to have to have a long conversation with our parents. I only wished I could be around to give her some support. However, my behavior at her age was bound to come up during these conversations, and it would probably be for the best if I wasn’t there. If she needed any help, I knew that she’d find me in school and talk to me on Monday.

Lynette drove Roy and Sherry home, and then met Kristen and me at the air field. Uncle Jerry picked us up and we took our first night flight into Chicago.

The trip was quiet, and it was obvious that Kristen, Lynette, and I were all thinking about Merry and my parents. Uncle Jerry noticed our mood and we traveled in peace.

* * *

We stayed at the same hotel we did last year on my sixteenth birthday. However, this year, we got a different room which was a two bedroom suite, rather than the one bedroom suite we used last year.

It was nearly midnight when we got to the hotel. Lynette emptied our suitcases, and Kristen took a hot bath. I debated my options, and when Lynette finished unpacking, I suggested that she keep Kristen company.

Lynette asked, “Are you sure?”

“I’m tired. I’ve got a lot on my mind, and we have a game to go to tomorrow.”

Lynette simply nodded and went into the bathroom. I heard the two girls whispering, but I ignored them. There was a late movie showing on one of the television stations, and I turned off the lights in the bedroom.

I was still awake when the girls came out of the bathroom, both wearing towels. I pretended to be asleep, and neither girl bothered me.

* * *

I was in a better mood when I woke up the next morning. Kristen and Lynette were still asleep on either side of me. I needed to go to the bathroom, so I slipped out of the bed as carefully as I could so as not to wake up the two of them. As I moved out of the bed, the two girls seemed to roll toward one another, as if to make up for my now-empty spot.

At the foot of the bed, I stared at the two ladies. They looked so peaceful as they slept. I realized that the reason we were here in Chicago was to celebrate my birthday, and that I did the two women a disservice by being moody all night.

“I love you,” I murmured to the two of them, meaning it to both of them.

Kristen’s eyes opened quickly, and she mouthed the same words back to me before moving even closer to Lynette.

Satisfied, I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and got cleaned up for a day in Chicago.

As I walked out of the bathroom, I saw a naked Kristen standing outside the door. Without a word, she descended to her knees, took my dick in her mouth, and started sucking.

I’ve had my dick sucked in many ways by a few girls. The last person to suck me on her knees was June, who likes doing it that particular way. However, this was one of the first times Kristen ever sucked me like this. It was totally unlike her, as if she thought being on her knees made her somehow subservient to me. The fact that she did so this morning was quite noticeable, and my dick reacted by swelling even more than normal in her warm, moist cavity.

Kristen’s hands held my ass cheeks, and she would pull me closer and push me away from her mouth. Inside her mouth, her tongue was moving all over the tip and the shaft, sending waves of pleasure through my body.

When I felt two lips on my mouth, I opened my eyes in surprise. Lynette was standing alongside Kristen, and she kissed me. I returned her kiss as Kristen kept up her relentless stimulation.

Lynette moved down until she was on her knees to the left of Kristen. As if on cue, Kristen moved her mouth off my erection and started kissing the side closest to her. Lynette kissed the other side, and soon I was getting a double blow job from the two blondes.

Every thirty seconds or so, one of the girls would move from the side and start sucking lightly on the tip, adding to my excitement.

I put a hand around each girl’s head as they continued alternating their sucking on me. When I could take no more, the girls seemed to sense it and Lynette positioned herself on the end and started sucking harder than ever. I erupted about three times into Lynette’s mouth, and she continued sucking as my dick continued to spasm afterward.

When my dick started to soften, Lynette turned to Kristen, and pulled her up as Lynette started to stand. The two girls kissed right in front of me, sharing my seed between them.

Once the girls’ erotic display finished, they each kissed me on the cheek and left for the bathroom, closing the door behind them.

I went to the bed and found that the girls (Kristen, most likely) picked out an outfit for me to wear.

The girls came out of the bathroom about ten minutes later, both of them still nude, and went into one of the dresser drawers to pick out their outfits. Kristen picked out a purple sun dress and a matching pair of panties, and pulled them on her quickly. Lynette wore the exact same dress and panties, except hers were pink. Neither girl wore a bra. In the closet, Lynette took out two pairs of sandals, one purple and one pink.

“Time to eat breakfast, Jim!” Kristen said.

“Like that?” I said. If you looked, you could clearly see Kristen’s dark aureoles through the light purple material of her sun dress.

“Of course.”

I shrugged, and the three of us left the room and took the elevator to the lobby.

* * *

We ate breakfast at the dining room at the hotel. We all ordered omelets, and the two girls ordered Champagne and orange juice (mimosas), while I drank sweet tea.

At around noon, Kristen took us for a tour of Chicago in her rental car. She pointed out the Berghoff restaurant, where we ate last January.

Lynette smiled. “My Nana took me there a long time ago. The food is great there.”

Eventually, we ended up at the world-famous Wrigley Field. I wasn’t a big Cubs fan, but Kristen and her father definitely were. In fact, if you were to ask me to name a current Chicago player, I would name Bucky Dent, who played at Commiskey Field for the White Sox!

As I said, Kristen was a Cubs fan, and she explained her interest much the same way a Boston fan would explain their fondness for the Red Sox. The big difference was that the Red Sox wasn’t an underdog team this year.

“Despite the fact that we’re over six games behind the Phillies,” Kristen explained, “we’ve been winning against them this year. I don’t think we have a chance in hell to catch Cincinnati for the playoffs, especially this late in the season, but just think: The Red Sox are leading their division, so I think they’re four games behind Oakland in their League. They have Fisk and Yaz, and they look good to win the AL series. If Cincinnati doesn’t break down, it will be the Reds against the Sox, and the Reds have Rose, Bench, Morgan, and Griffey. Despite the fact that I love Pete Rose, my prediction is that the Sox will take the AL series and finally win the world series this year for the first time in nearly sixty years!”

I could tell that Kristen really loved the game, and despite the fact that I didn’t follow the game very much, I can remember some times when my father would take me to a game. He was a Cubs fan, too, although I was very young when he took me and my mom. I think that was before he grew mean, because I have nothing but fond memories of being at Wrigley field.

Lynette knew nothing about professional baseball, but I knew that she spent the last week or so reading the sports section and talking to Kristen’s father so that she could follow along and offer intelligent conversation.

It was about an hour and a half before the game, and we had some great seats from a friend of Kristen’s father who was a season ticket holder. Our lunch would consist of hot dogs, sausages, and other ball park food from the concession stands or from the people walking through the stands.

Kristen seemed to know a few of the people sitting nearby, and everybody was very polite to us. There were a few people with baseball mitts, hoping for the opportunity to catch a ball coming their way.

The game started with the Phillies batting. Burris was pitching for the Cubs, and the Phillies’ first four players made three quick outs, leaving a man on second and allowing the Cubs to get their first chance at bat. At the end of the inning, the Cubs left two on base, and the score was nothing-nothing.

“This is going to be a great game,” Kristen said, feeding me some roasted peanuts, and explaining the game to Lynette and me.

The game continued in a similar vein until the fourth inning, when the Cubs drew first blood as Morales scored on a single by Thornton.

After that first run, Kristen turned to Lynette and said, “Pay up!”

Lynette simply nodded and wiggled until she was able to remove her panties from underneath her sun dress. She gave the garment to Kristen, who simply put them in her purse. This action did not go unnoticed by the other fans around us.

The Phillies came back in the seventh inning with Allen scoring on a single by Schmidt, tying the score. Lynette gave Kristen an evil grin, and although Kristen was more discreet as she pulled down her panties, there were fans nearby watching. They apparently saw Lynette before and were probably wondering what would happen when the next run was scored.

The Cubs came back at the bottom of that same inning. Thornton scored a run on a single by Rosello. A few plays later, Harris ran home to put the Cubs two points ahead. Each time the Cubs scored, Kristen placed her hand underneath Lynette’s dress. Apparently, the penalty was an orgasm—not much of a penalty except it was in public, and I saw Lynette biting her lip to keep from getting too vocal in the stands.

When the Cubs scored again in the eighth inning, Kristen swapped her seat with mine, and she told me to bring Lynette off for her. Lynette smiled at me, so I did my best. I felt Lynette’s pussy clamp down on my fingers as I teased all around her clit without touching it directly. I knew that this tended to drive Lynette wild, and it took a few minutes before I felt the contractions that signaled her ecstasy.

The Cubs won the game four to one, but I think that Lynette (and possibly her few observant fans) had the most fun at the game.

Afterward, Kristen drove us back to the hotel, where Lynette paid her ultimate punishment for losing.

As soon as the door to our room was closed, Kristen ordered, “Pussy slave, I want you to bring Jim to an orgasm using only your tongue. No fingers and no lips. Just your tongue.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Lynette said, as she stripped off her dress before pulling my pants down.

Lynette didn’t seem to mind her punishment, and after about ten minutes, I moved toward one of the chairs so I could sit down, since I was starting to get tired (of standing—not Lynette’s actions!).

Meanwhile, Kristen was laying out on the floor, and she pulled her dress up to reveal her naked crotch. Kristen played with herself as Lynette stimulated my cock with her warm and wiggly tongue.

It took Lynette about fifteen or twenty minutes, but finally, I felt myself getting close to orgasm.

Lynette seemed to sense this, and shifted her position so that her face was straight on to the head of my cock. She teased underneath the head of my cock with her tongue as I started to thrust a bit, trying to increase the stimulation on my dick.

When I erupted, Lynette was perfectly positioned so that my first jet hit mostly on top of her tongue, although a bit landed on her upper lip and into one of her nostrils. Lynette continued licking me, and I continued to spurt and spurt until I didn’t have any more to give.

Most of my semen was coating Lynette’s tongue like a white gooey paste, although some was starting to slip down in a big drip at the tip of her tongue.

Kristen saw that some of her precious seed was about to drip off, and she stopped playing with herself and moved quickly over to where Lynette was and threw herself on top of the cheerleader. The two girls locked their lips in a lovely embrace as Kristen took my sperm from Lynette’s mouth.

My erection didn’t die down. As the two girls continued kissing, I got up and moved behind Kristen and pointed my cock between Kristen’s legs. I quickly located Kristen’s cunt hole and eased myself inside Kristen. It went in smoothly and I got into my own rhythm as my dick moved in and out of Kristen’s warm chamber.

It took me longer to reach orgasm this time, but Kristen and Lynette kept each other on edge by slowly teasing each other. Kristen received the most orgasms, mostly because Lynette’s teasing of Kristen’s clitoris was enhanced by my continued thrusting into Kristen.

* * *

We got back from Chicago Sunday afternoon. Almost immediately, I headed into the music studio.

There was this bass line repeating in my head for a few days now.

“Dum dum dum da-da dum dum…”

Seven notes in three beats with a one beat rest.

I tried playing the beat on the upright, and it didn’t sound right.

The organ sounded the best with a deep bass. All D’s and ending on a lower A.

I was playing it over and over when Kristen walked in. “You didn’t have the DND light on.”

“Yeah. I’ve got this beat in my head. Listen.”

I played the bass line again, three times before dropping to an A7 bass line for the next time…

“That’s a standard bass riff,” Kristen said. She walked over to the stand where her bass guitar was. She quickly hooked it up to the mini-amplifier.

Dum dum dum da-da dum dum.

Kristen played that effortlessly.

“You’ve got it, Kris,” I said. “Is that from a song?”

“If so, it’s generic. It could be the bass line to anything.”

“Not rock,” I said. “This is just two chords. The D and then the A-A7.”

“That’s not the way you played it,” Kristen said. She started the bass line again. She started to shift to the A and I told her to wait, and she continued until I told her to change chords.

“Weird,” Kristen said. “No song that I can think of.”

“I wrote some music a couple of months ago for a band piece, but I’m thinking it should be a rock thing. It’s the same chord progression, except it was G and D7.”

Kristen looked at me. “A band piece?”

“Well, the bass line fits, but not the same key. I was thinking of a wind-horn thing, like Phil Spector’s wall of sound.”

“Do you have anything recorded?”

“Not yet. Just an idea right now. The rhythm is in my head. Then today, that bass line seemed natural to add.”

“I heard you doing the ‘dum dum’ thing last night.”

That embarrassed me. “Um, sorry, Kris…”

“Oh, don’t be worried. I knew what was going on in your head. Your music is how you relate to everything. I considered myself lucky to be thought of that way by you.”

“That’s not true!” I protested.

Kristen looked skeptical. “You don’t equate everything to music?”

“Not everything.”

Kristen changed the subject back. “OK. You have this bass line, and this horn backup. Do you have words?”

I shook my head. “The words are out of reach for me until I hear the music. The meter would be ‘dum dum da-da dum’ which would make a good counterpoint against the bass line.”

Kristen closed her eyes. “Dum dum da-da dum. There’s my Lynette doll!”

I laughed. “That fits, but it’s more like, ‘She’s a movie star…’”

We played together for hours trying to get the melody out of my head and into something tangible. Luckily, Kristen recorded a couple of our sessions so we would have something to work with later. I didn’t tell Kristen that once there was a song in my head, I could reproduce it at any time at will, since taping was always a good idea.

* * *

I woke up the next morning with Lynette in my arms. She was awake and hugging me.

“Good morning, Lynette!” I said, very tired and groggy.

“Kristen and you were in the studio all night,” Lynette said. “Kris said to make sure you got up in time for June to pick you up. Kris is going to skip one of her classes today at the community college to make sure she’s with you after school.”

“No! I want her to do her courses!”

“Relax, Oogie,” Lynette said, kissing me softly. “I have the same class and I’ll take notes. She says you’re working on a song, and you’re going to work with the people for your band you’re going to use at Puppy Dawg’s.”

I nodded, and remembered the marathon music session that the two of us did the night before. We tried variations on things, but I really needed a bunch of other players to get the right feel for the song.

Lynette physically dragged me out of bed and into the kitchen, where she fed me something that she whipped up specially for me that day: French toast wrapped around breakfast sausages.

I looked at the sandwich doubtfully, and shook my head. Somehow the sweetness of the French toast and the spiciness of the sausage didn’t seem as if it would be a combination that appealed to me.

Finally, Lynette shoved the package into my mouth, forcing me to bite down. The taste was actually quite good, so I made short work of the first one when Lynette brought me a second.

“No thirds, Oogie,” Lynette said, laughing. “Kristen’s orders.”

I was stuffed from the first two, and Lynette gave me an orange just as June arrived to pick me up so I would have something healthy to eat on my way in with June.

“You look like shit!” June said when she saw me.

“Late night.”

June gave a belly laugh. “I don’t know why I stick with you, Jim. You have two of the prettiest girls I know sleeping with you, and Sherry ready to rape you any day now.”

I gave a harrumph to June and said, a bit testily, “I’ll have you know I was working on a song last night.”

June nodded her head. “Did it involve two blonde girls screaming?”

I didn’t dignify that with an answer. I knew that June was just kidding with me. She didn’t have any jealousy over me for the simple reason that I wasn’t the main focus in her love life.

* * *

I got permission from Mr. Proilet to practice for our upcoming audition at Puppy Dawg’s with the people who were going to be in that band after school.

Kristen was there, and she brought most of her guitars with her, and so was Gerry. In fact, the two of them were hooking their guitars into a mixer that looked a bit familiar.

“Is that the mixer from the studio?” I asked.

Kristen shook her head. “No, I bought two of them. It saves having to lug a bunch of amps everywhere.”

I handed out my music to everybody, and explained about the “wall of sound” type of style that I was envisioning. I explained, “This is a basic beat, and once we get it down, we can improvise off it a whole bunch of ways.”

It took nearly forty-five minutes to get the wind and horn parts down. As I did that, Kristen was working with Gerry and Amy to get the guitars and piano parts going.

Finally, I decided to put the thing together. I gave Roy the “She’s a movie star” line, and told him to use it or scat sing to the same meter for the melody.

“You don’t have words for this?” Roy asked.

“Not yet. This song has been going through my head for a while, though.”

Roy shrugged.

I tapped my baton, and got everybody ready and started with the bass line played by Kristen and Amy with her left hand. After four bars, the horns came in with the winds, and they all sounded pretty good.

Finally, I signaled to Roy. He sang his lines, but surprised me by doing it in a falsetto about an octave above what I told him. I didn’t stop the song… jazz is about improvisation, of course, and if this didn’t work out, well, at least Roy gave it a shot.

The interesting point is that Roy had great judgment: the falsetto worked.

The song sounded great, even though every line was “She’s a movie star!” and tended to get boring.

After that, we did a couple of standard jazz tunes, and then another song that I thought would make a great feature.

We didn’t let out until about 4pm.

“I don’t think the next rehearsal will go this long,” I assured everybody. “I really wanted to get through the basics before working on an actual repertoire.”

As Kristen and I were walking out to the parking lot, a fellow junior named James Zane approached me. Nobody called him that name, but instead referred to him as “Zaniac,” a nickname he earned as the class clown in elementary school, a reputation that he maintained into high school.

“Jim? I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”

“What’s up, Zaniac?”

“I’ve been talking to some people, and they said you were helping with the talent show.”

I nodded. “Yup. Did you want to do something?” I couldn’t imagine what Zaniac would do at a talent show, but I was intrigued at his interest.

“Um, well… I had some ideas… not as a performer, but… you know… for some other people.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Have you talked with these other people?” It was just like Zaniac to “volunteer” some unsuspecting people, who wouldn’t know about it. Of course, they would get in trouble when they didn’t show up.

“Most of them told me to talk with you or Ms. Kendall.”

Ah. I finally understood Zaniac’s problem. The teacher had a fundamental distrust of the boy, and I couldn’t say that he didn’t deserve it.

“So, what are your ideas?”

Zaniac looked at Kristen a bit nervously. “It might take some time to go over all of them. I know you have fifth period lunch, right? I could skip gym and talk with you tomorrow.”

“I guess…” I didn’t want to sound as if I was condoning a student to cut class.

“Coach Dillard doesn’t mind,” Zaniac assured me. “As long as I don’t do it too often. He’s kind of cool with that.”

“If you say so.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

* * *

Zaniac was true to his word, and approached the cheerleader table in the lunchroom during fifth period. All of the cheerleaders eyed him dubiously, as if daring him to approach them, which didn’t seem to phase Zaniac a bit.

“Oogie? Could we talk about my ideas?” Zaniac indicated an empty table in the corner of the room.

“Sure,” I said. I turned to the people at my table and said, “Please excuse me. I’m not sure how long this will take.”

The two of us went to the table where we could talk more privately. Almost immediately, he started giving me his ideas.

“You know the football quarterback, Ted Evans? I have an idea for him as a singer…”

I listened to Zaniac’s ideas, and found myself laughing more than once. This kid certainly had a flare for coming up with strange but wonderful ideas. Every one of them was possible—assuming the student he suggested was willing to go along.

One idea didn’t sit well.

“Zaniac, I’m not performing at the concert!”

“I’ve heard,” Zaniac said, nodding, “but this isn’t having you play music or anything.”

“I’m still not sure…”

“Listen, Oogie. I just wanted to do this kind of bit. I figured that if you were a part of it, it could be fun.”

I thought about Zaniac’s idea, and finally decided to see how important this was to him. “OK, here’s what you do. If you want to be on stage, you’ll have to clear it with Ms. Kendall. I’d suggest you have a meeting with her and Mr. Proilet.”

“Mr. P. doesn’t have much of an opinion of me, either.”

I smiled. “Zaniac, if you really want to do this, you’ll have to get their permission.”

I saw the gears turning in the boy’s head. Finally, he got up and shook my hand. “Thanks, Oogie.”

As Zaniac started walking away, he turned, and asked, “Do you think your girlfriend Kristen would be willing to do a bit?”

I laughed. “Don’t push it, Zaniac! She’s no longer a student here.”

Zaniac shrugged. “I’ve seen her helping out in the music department. She was with you yesterday in the music room.”

I continued shaking my head, and Zaniac smiled and left the cafeteria.

Back at the cheerleader table, I found my sister was the current subject of conversation. Specifically, it was the subject of her upcoming “Sweet Sixteen” party.

The cheerleaders planned to give Merry a private cheerleader-only party when they realized that they also wanted to invite Roy Fennel. Adding a boyfriend into the mix meant inviting other boyfriends, and having the party at somebody’s house became a problem.

I turned to June and asked, “Didn’t you tell them Kristen’s idea?”

June looked perplexed. “What idea?”

There was this idea that Kristen suggested last weekend, but I just realized that June hadn’t gone with us to Chicago.

“Sorry! I forgot. You didn’t know, did you?”

June repeated, “What idea?”

“Remember the American Legion hall where we held Kristen’s birthday party? Kris said that she could rent the hall again.”

“That’s a big hall,” Sherry said. “We’d only have about thirty people.”

“Add another ten for my parents, some relatives and other friends,” I suggested. “Consider it our present to my sister.”

“What about entertainment?” Sherry asked, looking me in the eye.

“Funny you should mention that,” I said, grinning widely. “It just so happens that the band that I’m putting together for Puppy Dawg’s could use a dress rehearsal.”

June laughed, but some of the other cheerleaders were impressed.

“That would be so cool!” Sherry said, always happy to listen to me perform.

For the rest of the period, the cheerleaders went over some more ideas on how they could make the party special for my sister.

Sherry participated in the conversation, but I noticed her staring at me more than she had been doing recently.

Once again, I felt a bit of guilt about what happened the previous week.

* * *

After my conversation with Zaniac, a number of the people that Zaniac suggested approached me for some logistics on actually performing on-stage.

Ted Evans, the football quarterback, came up to me and said, “You know, if Zaniac hadn’t suggested this, I probably wouldn’t have thought about it. I can sing a bit, you know, and I was thinking about getting into acting. In fact, I’m considering doing the senior play this year.”

I sighed. The musical this year was Bye Bye Birdie and it was my suspicion that this play was suggested because everybody had an idea who to cast as the Elvis-type character: yours truly. I refused to even think about taking the part: I’m not an actor and I didn’t have any desire to do anything with the play other than what I did last year, which was helping out behind the scenes.

I looked at Ted and gave him a rueful smile. “You know, Ted, you’re pretty tall. With some sideburns, you could look like Conrad Birdie.”

Instead of laughing, Ted looked serious. “That’s the part I want. If not, then the Albert Peterson part… he has more singing parts, actually.”

I saw that the quarterback was quite serious. “Can you really sing?”

Ted gave me a shrug. “I did as a kid. Heck, I still do it, but I haven’t done anything in public. I thought Zaniac’s idea was crazy enough that if it turns out I can’t sing well enough, the piece is supposed to be played for laughs anyway.”

“That’s a good attitude, actually,” I said thoughtfully. “Does this mean that Zaniac got permission from Ms. Kendall?”

Ted laughed heartily. “Zaniac brought me and a few other people with him when he approached Ms. Kendall and Mr. Proilet. They weren’t buying it until Sherry Jordan turned to Mr. Proilet and said that you thought his ideas were great.”

“Sherry said that?” I asked.

Ted nodded. “After that, Mr. Proilet convinced Ms. Kendall to give Zaniac a try. She did, but said that if she didn’t like the rehearsals, he’s out.”

“Interesting.”

* * *

Thursday’s jazz band practice was spent with the band split up into groups. A lot of them were working on ideas for the talent show, so I decided to give them the next couple of rehearsal slots to work things out.

One of the more interesting groups consisted of Roy Fennel, Tina Grant, and a guitar player named Mike. They were assisted by Kristen. I knew that Tina and Roy were going to be doing a number together; he was also doing a piano/vocal duet with Tina’s older sister. In fact, Roy was on everybody’s short list of singers to help out with a project when it became apparent that I wasn’t going to sing during the talent show.

Meanwhile, I worked with the remaining musicians that hadn’t yet gotten involved with the talent show, and we went through some of the numbers for the Christmas show. These people were the less talented ones, actually. I was glad to be able to give them more personal attention.

After the rehearsal, I searched out an old friend of mine named Chris Henderson who used to play the clarinet in junior high before giving it up for gymnastics. He wasn’t a great player, but I knew that he also played piano, so he was familiar with reading complicated music.

Chris was in the gymnasium in his street clothes, doing what I learned from being around Kristen’s (and now Lynette’s) exercise classes as “warming down exercises.”

“Hey, Chris!” I said.

“What’s up, Jim?”

“I had an idea for the talent show, and I really need your help.”

“What’s your idea?”

“Well, I had this idea of something outrageous for the marching band.”

“Ah, one of Zaniac’s ideas!”

“Actually, it’s an idea that June Rodgers gave me after I watched the marching band rehearse on the football field one day.”

“What’s this have to do with me?”

I smiled. “I’d like you to direct.”

“I can’t direct!”

“This will be easy, but I’ll teach you the basics so you don’t look foolish. Do you think you’d be able to swing by Kristen’s house sometime this weekend?”

Chris furrowed his brow. “Maybe late Sunday afternoon. Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I think this will be fun, actually.”

Chris shrugged. “I’m game. Things that you do seem to become pretty popular around here. I’ll hang along for the ride.”

“Something good can come out of this, you know.”

“Like what?”

“You could become drum major. We don’t have one in the marching band, you know.”

“I’d rather do gymnastics. It’s what I do best.”

This was what I thought Chris would say. “Why not do both?”

“Huh?”

“Who says a drum major has to march down the field? I saw Sherry do end over end flips as the cheerleaders came onto the field last week. Why can’t a drum major do that?”

“Ooh…” Chris said, grinning widely. “That’s an idea!”

* * *

There was a rehearsal for the performance band for Puppy Dawg’s on Saturday, and we planned for it to take place in the music studio at our apartment. In the room I normally used, it would be cramped, but Kristen originally planned the studio to use three rooms instead of the one we were currently using. The other two rooms were currently used for storage, so I moved everything from the nearer room into the one further back. I noticed that there were Masonite walls in both rooms. I was sure that Kristen already installed sound proofing.

I opened the divider between the main studio and what used to be the first closet, and Kristen got some folding chairs and risers and we arranged things more or less how we would be performing at Puppy Dawg’s.

When the members of the gig band showed up, they were impressed by the studio. I showed everybody where they were to be seated.

Before we could start rehearsing, Frank Rizzo had an important question. “Is this band going to have a name?”

That was a good question. “Actually, I hadn’t thought of us as anything other than the band.”

“Robbie Robertson has that name sewed up,” Kristen noted, laughing. She squinted as if trying to remember something and then said, “Yup, The Band is already taken.”

I nodded. “Actually, I like that group’s name. It’s so plain and ordinary. It doesn’t promise anything but music. I wish I thought of it.”

Kristen nodded, but didn’t add anything.

Gerry piped up and said, “Our audition next month is for Puppy Dawg’s house band, right? How about using that if you want something plain.”

“The House Band?” I asked, intrigued.

Frank rolled his eyes but smiled.

Roy nodded and said, “Oogie Woogie and his impresario House Band.”

This got a lot of laughter, but I put my hand up. “No. It’s not just about me. Don’t put my name on it, or you guys won’t feel that you’re part of it. I think the ‘impresario’ part is a bit pompous.”

“So, just House Band?” Kristen asked.

“Isn’t that a bit presumptuous?” James Gripper asked. James, known as Grip, was a pretty good trumpet player in the band. “I mean, we haven’t got the gig yet!”

“I like it, Grip,” I said, nodding at James. “If we show up at Puppy Dawg’s, and tell them we’re the House Band, they’re bound to sit up and take notice.”

By general consensus, we agreed that we’d be the House Band from now on.

“Are we all going to be wearing a hat like yours?” Frank asked.

As usual, I was wearing the hat that Kristen got for my birthday, since this had something to do with music. “If you want,” I said, shrugging. “Wear what you feel comfortable wearing.”

Once we got the preliminaries out of the way, we got down to business. “Let’s do the wind/horn run through.”

“Which one?” Frank asked. “The ‘movie star’ one?”

“Um, that’s just a working title. I didn’t write any words for it, yet.”

Frank laughed. “If we’re going for plain titles, then why not call the song, ‘Working Title?’”

Everybody laughed. “OK. Let’s start with Working Title for now.” I said, trying to get us back on track.

We stopped and restarted the song a few times, mostly to get the sax/horn part with a stronger groove. Finally, I got a brilliant idea.

I left the studio and retrieved one of Ringo’s old albums. When I got back, I put the LP on the stereo and put on It Don’t Come Easy.

“Listen to the horn section on this song.”

As the song played, I pointed out the horns and how they augmented the song. After it was done, I said, “This arrangement is definitely influenced by Phil Spector, who did the Let It Be album, and some of John’s and George’s solo works.”

“You want us to sound like Ringo?” Frank asked.

“No,” I said, laughing. “I want us to sound like a well trained rhythm section. Now, let’s take Working Title from the top.”

The song went much better this time, so we went to do some standards, having either Roy, Kristen, or Stacy singing lead, where appropriate.

After a few songs, Roy asked, “Aren’t you going to sing anything? Your voice is a bit better than mine, you know.”

I laughed. “Better? I don’t think so, Roy.”

Nobody else laughed.

“Oh, come on, guys. Roy doesn’t play an instrument, he should sing lead.”

Grip shook his head. “So, you’re just gonna stand up there and direct us? We’re not a symphonic band, Oogie. You’ve got to perform.”

Kristen caught my eye, and signaled me.

“Let’s take five, people,” I said. “Lynette has some snacks upstairs in the apartment. There’s a pool table down the hall as well. There are bathrooms on all floors. Let’s all be back here in five.”

Everybody got up, and Kristen led me across the hall to he recovery room.

“Jim, what’s up? Grip is right; you’re not performing.”

“I want everybody else to have a chance to perform. I did the Working Title song, after all.”

Kristen shook her head. “This isn’t the talent show. I know you’re serious about starting a band, and if you do so, you will want to earn a living. People are going to come to see you, Jim. They’ll want to hear the band, but they want to hear you. Everybody in the band is in it because you’re a part of it.”

“What about Roy?” I asked. “He can’t just play tambourine.”

“Why not? Roy’s not long term, Jim,” Kristen said. “He’s told Merry that he likes singing, but would never consider making that his only career. He’s doing it in now just because the two of you are friends. He doesn’t have to sing every song.”

“Hmm,” I said. I didn’t know that about Roy, but it made sense. He was excited about electronics and did a lot of projects from Heathkit and Radio Shack’s “Science Fair” line of do-it-yourself kits. He liked music, but he didn’t have the passion for it that I and a few of the others had. “All right, then. The two of us will alternate, deciding which songs we like best.”

“That’s the spirit, Jim.”

I gave Kristen a quick kiss. “Let’s go upstairs before all of Lynette’s cookies are gone.”

“You’ve always been after her cookies!” Kristen said, giggling.

“They’re not as warm or as soft as yours, my sweet!” I gave an appreciative tweak of Kristen’s nipples through her blouse, and her nipples hardened immediately.

Kristen giggled. “We’ll never make it back in five minutes if you keep that up, Oogie!”

The two of us laughed as we went up the stairs.

* * *

One of the things I accomplished was getting some of the songs that we were rehearsing recorded. There were a couple that I wanted to work with, especially the song that was now called Working Title. I did three tracks for that one. The first track contained the rhythm section and drums. The second track was Kristen’s bass guitar, Amy’s piano, and Gerry’s lead guitar. The third was the “She is a movie star!” vocals on it.

That vocal track was a throw-away. The words were just a fill-in so we could get a feel for the way the song would play out. During the recorded section, I cut off the seventh and eighth lines of each verse, replacing them with a two-word “Oh yeah!” I also added the locations for a chorus, with an even different composition (I was starting to hear the words in my head as I recorded it, but didn’t want to start writing a song in front of the band while we were supposed to be rehearsing).

The song was pretty well blocked out in my head, but after hearing the recording I made, I realized I wanted to feature the rhythm section even more in it. It already contained a pretty funky arrangement, and they were starting to come together really well.

However, there was enough of the song that I could now work on the words privately in my studio this evening. I played the song a few times until I started “seeing” the words that I saw earlier that day.

After a few tries on the piano, I came up with a good first line: “She’s my Goddess, you see!”

I grinned. This was going to be a song about Kristen!

There was going to be some problem with the six-line stanza, since it wasn’t a normal poetry form, especially with the two-word follow-up. I shrugged, and figured I’d come up with something.

Now that I had a good first line, I started playing again, and as if by magic, the words came to me:

She’s my Goddess, you see!

She’s the girl I want forever.

That girl of mystery,

And she’s always there whenever.

We’ll make history,

And we’ll always be together

My muse!

Maybe the words were trite, but they came from the heart. Inspired, I went for the next stanza. Once again, the words came out and the rhyme didn’t seem forced.

I noticed the intercom light was flashing, but I wanted to get this recorded. Kristen would be so surprised!

I wrote down the lyrics that I sang, then I cued up the recorder. Since the third track, the vocal track, was a throw-away, I simply recorded over it, and sang the first two stanzas.

Feeling proud of myself, I answered the intercom.

“Oogie here.”

“Jim, you’re getting bad.” It was Kristen. “Forty-five minutes!”

“I was recording and didn’t want to get out of the groove.”

“What were you doing?”

“Vocals for Working Title.”

“Ooh. Can I help?”

I wanted this to be a surprise for Kristen, but as she was a member of the House Band, she was going to hear the words I wrote sooner or later. I shrugged, and then realized that Kristen would never be able to see me shrug over the intercom.

“Sure. Bring Lynette.”

“Cool. Be right down.”

It wasn’t long before the two girls entered. Lynette was nude, and wore a ribbon around her neck attached to a longer ribbon that Kristen was holding.

“We were into something when you called back,” Kristen explained.

I shrugged. Lynette didn’t seem too embarrassed, actually.

The recorder was all cued, so I turned on the three tracks and hit “play.”

As the girls heard the words, Kristen cringed as she realized I was singing about her. Lynette wore a big smile on her face.

After the second stanza was done, I stopped the tape.

Lynette spoke up first. “That’s wonderful, Oogie! It’s better than some songs I hear on the radio.”

Kristen, on the other hand, had fire in her eyes. “You are NOT going to be singing love songs written especially for me!”

“Oh, come on, Kris! I was inspired!”

It took a few minutes for Lynette and me to calm Kristen down. Finally, she said, “OK. You can keep the lyrics. Are there more?”

“Not yet,” I admitted. “I did those two verses and then noticed the light flashing.”

“Oh.”

We talked for a bit, and then went upstairs where Lynette donned an apron and made us some Salisbury steaks with gravy.

“What do you have planned for the rest of the weekend?” Kristen asked over dinner.

“Chris Henderson is coming over late tomorrow afternoon. I’m going to teach him how to direct.”

“Direct what?”

I smiled. “The marching band. I was thinking that they need a drum major and he’d be perfect. He used to play the clarinet and I know he plays the piano, so directing shouldn’t be that difficult for him. I just need to start with a single song.”

We made more chit-chat, and Lynette brought up how impressed she was about the song that I co-wrote with the rest of the band.

“That song really sounds great!” Lynette insisted.

“Thanks. It’s everybody’s song. I started with a bass line that Kristen helped me realize, so I started putting other beats against it. The lyrics could probably use some work, and I need to come up with some sort of chorus for it.”

Kristen didn’t look angry anymore as we talked about that song. This worried me a bit, since I still couldn’t always read Kristen’s moods perfectly. However, she seemed happy.

After dinner, I washed the dishes and Kristen and Lynette told me that they were going downstairs. That term, “going downstairs” was usually a euphemism for using the communal shower, although Kristen sometimes used the expression to mean she was going to play pool in the billiard room.

After giving all the dishes a thorough rinse, I put them into the dishwasher and turned it on.

I debated going back downstairs to finish my song, but figured that I’d sleep on it, and work on it tomorrow morning, refreshed.

The intercom buzzed. “Kristen?”

It was Harry’s voice.

I pushed the button. “She’s downstairs with Lynette. Is it important?”

“Not really,” Harry answered. “Please tell her that Daniel was able to secure the Legion Hall for next weekend.”

“Oh, that’s great!” I said. “That’s for Merry’s birthday!”

“I assumed so.”

“You’re invited, Harry, and as a guest, not as help!”

Harry laughed. “Thank you, Jim. Kristen already said the same thing.”

“Two brilliant minds come up with the same idea,” I answered. “What do you expect?”

“Daniel has also invited the three of you to lunch tomorrow on the patio. Bratwursts and Italian sausages.”

“I’ll pass the invitation to the girls when I see them.”

“Thanks, Jim. I’ll talk to you later.”

I decided to mosey on downstairs to see if the girls needed any company in the shower. If not, I could always work on those sucker shots that Camille taught me on the pool table.

When I got downstairs, I was surprised to see the DND light on outside the studio. I shrugged, and walked down the hall toward the billiard room, and confirmed that the shower was empty and hadn’t been used.

I worked on my shots for about an hour before the intercom went off again. “Oogie?”

“Yeah, Kris. What’s up?”

“Can you come to the studio?”

“Sure thing, Goddess!”

I put the cue away and walked back down the hall. The DND light was no longer lit. I knocked anyway.

Lynette answered. She was still nude.

“Hi, Oogie,” Lynette said, giggling. “Kristen has a surprise.”

“Does she?” I asked, smiling.

Kristen was by the open reel, and pushed the play button.

I heard the intro to the Working Title song, and was surprised to hear my vocals were replaced when the first verse began:

I am a lucky girl,

I have a wonderful lover.

And he’s a gem, a pearl,

As you’ll soon discover...

I’ll give him the world,

I won’t have any other...

My star!

Kristen recorded over my vocals, and redirected the song as a love song to me!

I was about to say something when the second verse began. Once again, it was Kristen singing about me.

When the third verse came on, it was my original words about Kristen. The transition in voices was noticeable and sounded great. I wondered how Kristen managed to time-shift my vocals to a different verse, though.

Before the chorus began, Kristen stopped the tape. “That’s as far as I got.”

“It’s no longer my song to you!” I complained.

“That’s right, Sugar,” Kristen said, smirking. “It’s our love song to each other now.”

I nodded, and then realized that I actually liked it that way! Kristen also saved me the effort of having to write additional verses as well!

“That’s great, Goddess! The song is better!”

The three of us listened to the song a couple of times, and we started working with each other on something suitable for a chorus. We agreed that it would have to be the two of us singing together.

Surprising, Lynette was the one that came up with a solution. She handed us a piece of paper where she was doodling. However, it wasn’t doodles, but words that fit the beat of the chorus that I came up with earlier in the day.

Lynette stood by the open reel and played the first part of the song, and switched the vocal track to record right before the chorus.

The two of us sang:

You’re the one I need.

You’re the one for me.

You’re the one I’ve hoped for.

You’re mine... we both agree!

You’re the one I love.

You’re the one for me.

You’re the one I’ve prayed for.

You’re my destiny!

YOU AND ME!

Lynette stopped the tape once the chorus was over.

“Lynette, that works fantastic!”

“Thank you,” Lynette said, shyly.

I made up my mind that I was going to have to do something special for Lynette. She was pretty creative, actually.

The three of us worked on the song the rest of the night. We realized we’d need another recording session with the House Band in order to get the song to fit in the new format that we worked out.

I never realized that writing a song would be as easy as it turned out. I agonized for almost a year with the melody that Mr. Proilet said reminded him of Canon, but this song really cooked and it didn’t take that long for it to progress from the “dum dum dum da-da dum dum” bass riff to a full blown song just by jazzing things up a bit.

I was now sure that I found my destiny, and I was very happy that both Kristen and Lynette could be a part of it.

Afterword

I was half, not whole,

In step with none.

Reaching through this world,

In need of one.

Billy Preston & Syreeta

With You I’m Born Again

As I mentioned many times, I knew that I was lucky. In the year or so that I had the tickets, my life had changed dramatically, and I truly believe that the tickets had a lot to do with that. After all, there was no reason that Kristen would have ever given me a second look if I never found them.

Not only was I living with Kristen and Lynette, but I found myself the object of admiration from my fellow students, and now I had a band that I could use to pursue my dreams.

All this great stuff was happening, and… somehow, I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

For instance, if the tickets changed my life, then was I living the life that I was supposed to? I’ve heard of the term “karma” from the popularity of Eastern religions, which is supposed to be the sum of a person’s actions in this life and previous lives, and decides one’s fate in this and future lives. Could these tickets somehow be interrupting this natural order, and would this interruption affect the karma of other people? These were really pretty heady things for a seventeen year old to be thinking!

A year before, I learned enough about the tickets to know that I wanted to avoid them for the most part. Since then, I learned more about them, including that other people had access to them or may still have them even now! I was warned about the tickets by Camille and her sister, and discovered some of the despicable things that Tim Hawking did with them.

So… despite the fact that it looks like I have everything I need… love, friendship, music, and happiness, those tickets are still there as well. What will happen next?

Obviously, there is still more of the story of the tickets to be told, and the finale will be coming soon!

* * *

A FINAL NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

I wish to thank Terry and Mike for working tirelessly in the editing of this story. They have met just about every deadline that I requested in order to get this story out in a timely manner. When chapters were late, it was always my own fault!

To everybody that has sent suggestions, compliments, pointed out errors, and otherwise sent me feedback, I would like to once again thank you. YOU are the reasons that I post my stories on the Internet. Your feedback is my only form of payment. In addition, seeing the random comment on USENET about my stories always gives me a nice feeling inside.

There will be another sequel to this series. I will start writing it in the beginning of 2006, and it will be posted on StoriesOnline.net first (as usual).

Once again, thank you for making it this far into the story. I know I’ve ended the story a bit abruptly again, but the story of the tickets is a long one taking place over a period of years, and I’d rather have the story at a manageable size rather than as one humongous story of a hundred or more chapters!

Peace!

JiMC (an author’s pseudonym), Somewhere in the USA

Cast of Characters

The following is a list of the characters that appear or are mentioned in this story. Since the story takes place over a period of two school terms, the grades of the students mentioned are their grades during the school year that starts in September, 1974, when the story begins.

The characters are sorted by last name.

Jim Crittenhouse — The hero of the story and the main point of view character. He’s a gifted musical prodigy, and can play most non-stringed instruments passably, although he excels on trumpet and piano. He’s also the leader, conductor, and arranger of an extra-curricular “jazz band” at his high school, despite the fact that he’s only in tenth grade.

Margaret Cummings — Jim’s mother, who divorced Jim’s abusive and alcoholic father when Jim was eight years’ old.

Meredith (Merry) Cummings — Jim’s younger step-sister who is almost exactly a year younger than Jim. Merry’s mother passed away, and Jim’s mother married Merry’s father after her divorce.

Roy Fennel — Sophomore and close friend of Jim’s, who is a gifted singer and soloist in the school chorus and jazz band.

Megan Gallagher — Junior flutist in the orchestral band.

Lynn Graham — Sophomore singer and soloist in the school chorus and jazz band.

Amy Grant — Extremely shy eleventh grader that plays classical piano. She’s a confidante to Kristen.

Dale Hardy — Influential student leader and the “brains” behind Kristen’s former gang. Dale was thrown out of school and given a “scholarship” to a private school after she tried to blackmail Kristen during the first story, Lucky Tickets.

Tim Hawking — Sophomore class “nerd” who hangs out in different circles than Jim, but who finds himself the subject of Jim’s attention.

Sam Howard — Eleventh grade bassist in the jazz band.

Archy (“Tiny”) Jonas — Black boyfriend of June Rodgers’s. He’s an imposing and record-holding linebacker on the football team and the star of the school’s wrestling team. He’s known affectionately as “Teddy Bear” to June, and as “TB” to Lynette and Camille.

Wendy Jones — Friend of Patty and Camille, who has dirty blonde hair and enormous breasts. She dates Gerry, a member of the jazz band.

Sherry Jordan — Brunette gymnast who has carried a torch for Jim for years, although Jim was never aware of her feelings until after he was dating Kristen.

Marla LaGruzio — Doreen Peterson’s cousin, who lives in Orange County, CA. She visits her cousin and her Aunt Virginia (Aunt Gin) during the summer.

Camille Lombardi — Patty Nadal’s best friend, and a blonde Marcia Brady lookalike. She used to baby-sit Jim with her sister, Debbie. She’s co-captain of the cheerleaders, the school valedictorian, and self-described “slut”.

Debbie Lombardi — Camille’s older sister, who currently lives in New York City.

Jackie Lombardi — Dark haired cheerleader. She’s a junior in school, and a cousin to Camille. She was a former member of Kristen’s “gang” before she dated Jim.

Toby McConnell — Twelfth grade trumpet player who works hard at playing, but who isn’t really gifted. He dates Patty on and off.

Patty Nadal — Red-haired senior in high school who Jim meets in a lingerie shop with Wendy Jones and Camille Lombardi (this event is described in book one, Lucky Tickets). She becomes a best friend and confidante to Jim.

Gerry Pembroke — Senior friend of Jim’s who plays electric guitar in his own rock band as well as the jazz band. He dates Wendy Jones.

Doreen Peterson — A girl that Jack and Jim meet in a park (this is described in the first story, Lucky Tickets), along with her cousin. She becomes good friends with Jack.

Mr. Jean Proilet — (Name pronounced “John PREE-lay”) Jim’s music teacher who understands Kristen to be Jim’s muse. He is truly impressed by Jim’s musical ability, and pushes Jim to use his talents. He is the closest thing to a father figure that Jim has.

Lynette Robbins — Blonde captain of the cheerleaders. She’s best friends with Camille, and, like Camille, is bright and pretty.

June Rodgers — Black cheerleader. Goes out with Tiny Jonas.

Stacy Ryan — Sophomore singer and soloist in the school chorus and jazz band.

Derek Smith — Twelfth grade drum player in the jazz band.

Charley Swift — Kristen’s mother.

Daniel Swift — Kristen’s father.

Kristen Swift — Richest girl in school, and, as Jim describes her, “a lovely blonde Goddess”. She becomes Jim’s main love interest after Patty Nadal plays matchmaker between the two during the first story, Lucky Tickets. Prior to that first story, she was seen as a school leader, and had her own “gang” of friends who looked down their noses at other people. The gang disbanded during the first story after Kristen found a new focus for her life after Jim and Kristen started dating.

Will Swift — Kristen’s adopted older brother who is currently attending college in Massachusetts.

Ms. Taylor — Jim’s English teacher during his sophomore year.

Ms. Tomago — School Assistant Principal. She’s viewed with disdain by most students, as she often takes sides with teachers during disputes despite any other considerations.

Jack Williams — Jim’s best friend during junior high school.

Patrice Williams — Jack Williams’ older sister, who used to be a friend of Jim’s before deciding that Jack and Jim were losers and found her own friends. She becomes friendly once again with Jim during the first story, Lucky Tickets.

Mr. Yankovitz — School Principal, who is known affectionately as “Mr. Yank” by the students. He is considered stern, but very fair in his dealings with the students.

Content

JiMC Title: Lucky Stiff

WARNING

Prologue

Chapter 1—Sherry Jordan

Chapter 2—“Oogie” and Merry’s Birthday

Chapter 3—Kristen’s Request

Chapter 4—Blow Up!

Chapter 5—A Trip and the Halloween Party

Chapter 6—Initiation

Chapter 7—Thanksgiving in Boston

Chapter 8—Thanksgiving and Christmas

Chapter 9—Christmas Recess and New Year 1975

Chapter 10—Detention

Chapter 12—Chicago and Confrontation

Chapter 13—Party Planning

Chapter 14—Rehearsals

Chapter 15—Party!

Chapter 16—Ticket Abuse

Chapter 17—Another Addiction; Another Revelation

Chapter 18—Rescue

Chapter 19—Advice and Senior Weekend I

Chapter 20—Senior Weekend II

Chapter 21—Senior Weekend III

Chapter 22—Senior Weekend IV

Chapter 23—Breakdown

Chapter 24—Graduation and Marla Returns

Chapter 25—Marla; June and Merry

Chapter 26—More Pressure!

Chapter 27—Death of a Slave

Chapter 28—Getting Even

Chapter 30—Injury

Chapter 31—Limits

Chapter 32—Parental Advice

Chapter 33—Double Initiation

Chapter 34—Serenading

Chapter 35—Unexpected Trip

Chapter 36—The Concert and First Day of School

Chapter 39—Wild Weekend I

Chapter 40—Wild Weekend II

Chapter 41—Wild Weekend III

Chapter 42—Personal Advice

Chapter 43—Seventeenth Birthday

Chapter 44—Seventeenth Birthday Continued

Chapter 45—Jazzing Things Up

Afterword

A FINAL NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

Cast of Characters