Chapter 18

Bob Metcalf, Bob Metcalf, Bob Metcalf... Mrs. Bob Metcalf?

Dear Dairy: January 15th

Approaching sexual delirium after an all night (or so it seemed) conversation, and err... demonstration of mutual affection with my wonderful, wonderful lover Julie.

Christ! We were SO HOT last night!

Okay, okay, sex aside, the thing with Julie and me is we can talk openly to one another. Some girls are such bitches about it. I mean you confide in them and the next thing you know everything you told the slut is common knowledge. Not so with Julie. For instance, last night, before we really got into it, the subject was, is it possible to find a guy with whom a girl can have both sex and a decent conversation? For my part it felt like eons since I've had any male action worth mentioning. Julie on the other hand has more than she can handle at the moment.

I went to a "Pleasure Party down the hall at Doris' ( kinda like a Tupperware thing ) only it's sex toys on sale instead of plastic containers. The girl running the show, Tamara, began by having each of us recite our name, followed by a self-descriptive adjective beginning with the same letter. I used "removed," to reflect my feelings about where I was in relation to all the couples I knew. Anyway I bought a vibrator and made good use of it that night and the following afternoon, but it wasn't the real thing.

I mean, it's almost criminal, how I crave cock. I'm young, horny and agree with Julie that we should be spread-eagled daily while gravity and metabolic rates are still on our side. After all, one gets so old so fast. And while we're in that position, or even when we're not wouldn't it be cool if our hypothetical Prince Charming could also provide some lively banter and complementary comments about us. Is that too much to ask?

Ultimately I decided being spread-eagled was good enough for me, but Julie held out for both. Well she's a lot better looking than I am, but she had me spread my legs first. Ah, the life of the young and restless.

What started all this not so idle chatter? I'm still not sure, but... maybe if I start again it will become clear.

Okay, so yesterday, I'm coming back from a fierce three-on-three basketball workout at the gym - and when I push through the doors, who steps off but this guy Bob, Bob Metcalf to be exact. Met him for the first time leaving English 102 about a week ago, but he's in another class of mine as well. He's really nice! How can I describe him? Tall and lanky, with the grayest eyes I've ever seen. Wolfish like ya know, yeah that's it, like a wolf and they look right through me. He's not bulging with muscles like those typical grunt and groaners from the weight rooms all over campus. Still and all, he carries himself regally. He's got that type of strut you really don't miss, and women can't help but check him out when they see him. He has one of those "wow!" asses, ya know, muscles sprouting proudly from his gluteus maximus. He's got this fabulously cool, thick, black curly hair, and a narrow face with high, slightly pockmarked cheekbones that are anchored to a stubborn chin, with a rather aquiline nose, and sculpted lips that are to die for! I know, I know, I'm SUPER horny, but anyway he *IS* something special.

Of course, I had to practically mow him down when I have blotchy cheeks and major gym stench. I greeted him with the usual "Hi." (That's as far as our conversational gambits had gone until then.) He stunned me by giving me a rather intense once over(lingering on my sweatshirt covered tits and sweat-painted crotch as he mentally ravaged me(then he started talking(TO ME!

For some reason, he seemed fascinated with my being a basketball player. Eventually it occurred to me that he knew my name. He touched my arm several times while making a point in the conversation (Yes there was a conversation, but for the life of me I can't recall a word of it. So much for all my complaints on finding a man to actually talk with!

All I remember is thinking he can't be talking to me! He is talking to me! What do I do now?) Whew! I got hot just chatting with him. I know, I know, I get hot watching a worm cross the sidewalk. Ohhh man, it must be those eyes and his deep, resonant voice. I found myself spellbound just listening to him! It was the voice that dragged me under his spell. I'm a sucker for a deep, come-hither voice. The kind of radio voice that worms its way into your consciousness and then slowly spreads to your loins like wildfire. I know, I know, for some women, its bedroom eyes that turns them on, or a sexy smile, or the shape of his ass. For me, it's the voice. Well those other things help but his voice... Oh, God! I wanted to wrap my legs around him then and there.

He KNOWS lots of things I don't. He's so interesting and he's INTERESTED in me! This hasn't happened to me before with a guy. Oh yeah, Crotch and Bill, both of whom pulled disappearing acts on me, but they don't count. Or do they? And of course, Gary, but I haven't heard from him since that party.

Oh, who cares! Ahhhhhh, Bob, Bob, Bob... Where's my Barbi?

January 16th

Spent most of the day daydreaming about Bob. Did get some studying in. I salvaged the evening by visiting Robin, who was polishing her toenails, listening to some Latin jazz, and ostensibly working on an English paper. The musician's name was Arturo Sandoval or something like that. Can't spell it, but the guy played an incredibly sexy trumpet. I told Robin I could feel his notes creeping up my dress. That got her started. She regaled me with the story of Doris's third date last night with some junior that had gone rather well for her- he had exhorted her to let him go down on her. Like I really needed to hear this when I'm in heat and no prospects in sight. I suggested to Robin that I go down on her-hoping she'd reciprocate. She agreed readily enough, only asking that she be allowed to put her legs on my shoulders while I dined at the "Y" so her toenails could dry properly. By the time I finished with Robin her nails were not only dry, but curled up as well. She couldn't or wouldn't return the favor, but gave me a raincheck instead. That's how my luck is running all right, do someone sexual favors and get a promise in return. That's why I love Julie so. She's always there for me.

January 17th

Last night, I went to a frat house party where there was plenty of beer and wine to go around. I felt almost glamorous prowling around the place in a sumptuous black cocktail dress "borrowed" from Julie, (who was already out getting laid by a new BF) I adopted a studied casualness, sipping my Chardonnay until jostled by someone and almost spilled it on who other than Bob Metcalf. He was with-but not touching-a bitchy looking redhead in tight leather pants. My stomach lurched, first because I was happy to see him, and then because I'd begun to hate a woman I don't know.

"This is Muriel," he said. Muriel nodded warily. "We're going to another party," Bob said, with a pained expression on his face, "Rachel, I wanted to call you but couldn't. I don't have your number. I hope you understand."

Numbly I put my glass down and wrote my name and number on a napkin and handed it to him, all the while thinking what a stupid cow I was to give it to him.

"I'll call. I promise," was all he said and that voice of his had me shivering as I watched him stuffing the napkin into his pocket. They left( Muriel with her hand on his ass, signaling me he was hers. Right! He'd call I just knew he'd call.

Fortunately, I didn't have much time to sulk over this social fiasco because a pre-engineering nerd named Basil approached me. (Basil? Memo to self--Has any one of my friends and /or associates ever met a guy with that name?) I found him morbid and uninteresting, not someone I would date even on a bad day. (But hey, this was a VERY bad day) I didn't think I'd mind letting him put me out of my misery. I mean, meaningful sex would be preferable, but hey, I have needs and who knows when love'll show up for real? By the end of the night, Basil and I were quite drunk and in no state to drive anything except each other right through the headboard of his car.

Basil was really one of those shy types, still, he managed to squeeze my tit a couple times when he thought I wouldn't notice. Jeez, what a jerk, but eventually he worked up the nerve to ask what I was doing after the party.

"Huh," I mumbled. It was 3:15 A.M.

"Well, uh, if you're taking off now... do you want company?"

"Sure," I said, grabbing my coat. I considered saying "I never do this," since I don't. Well, not THAT often anyway. Then I had these strange thoughts flashing through my mind. Why should I care what Bob thinks? Come to think of it, how will he know? I shrugged those thoughts off and concentrated on important topics--like how big was Basil's boner?

When we reached his car, it was a Lexus... this guy's driving a Lexus! Basil stumbled a little then looked at me like I was a gift-wrapped box that might just contain a human head. Or was that the beer and wine affecting my vision?

"Actually, I don't think tonight's going to work," he said as he backed up a step away from me, turned to his right, then threw up on his shoes.

Thank God I moved aside in time. Wiping his mouth with the tissues I offered him, he said, "I'm sorry. I... I have to get up early tomorrow." That said, he lumbered into the nearby shrubs to study the remainder of his entrails.

Annoyed that I wasn't getting laid after all, I walked home and fell into bed only to hear Gregorian chant-like sounds coming from Julie's bed next door. It took me a while to figure out the mantra, but it hit me just as I eased the vibrator up and into my hole.

"Fuckmeharder, fuckmeharder... Ohhhh, baby, baby, fuck me harder!"

"Go Julie," I whispered, cheering her on. "Go girl!"

I came quickly thanks to their love making sounds. Then I had myself a good cry. I know I've been bellyaching over my recent celibacy, but damn it, I like Bob, and I want to get laid. I fell asleep to the rhythm of Julie's bedsprings.

"Fuckmeharder, fuckmeharder... ohhhh baby fuck me harder!"

January 19th

Darkness was close at hand and I was walking to my apartment in a light rain through the slushy snow after my last class. It was a fairly long walk, a good fifteen minutes at a brisk pace and I was passing the time going over the next day's assignments in my head when I heard his voice, low and sonorous, right behind me. I didn't turn just then; instead I focused on the rainy sidewalk and the sound of his voice. My name! He was calling my name! I stopped and waited for him to catch up with me. He walked me the rest of the way home. We had a snowball fight along the way and he kinda felt me up a little as we wrestled around in the snow. Small progress, but progress. No mention of what's her name. Cool. He was really considerate and kind to me and of course I forgave him everything, only I didn't tell him.

He HAD called me Sunday, wanting to meet me at some bar, but I was leaving to visit my parents and couldn't. We talked on the phone for thirty minutes or so, I really had to rush. He seemed more interested in my future and me than in his own. At least he makes it seem that way.

Fact: There are other girls after him. The swine! I saw him talking with a cute brunette after he dropped me off. She approached him as he was walking away and he appeared to know her. They walked off together and I resisted the impulse to follow and see what happened.

Fact: I was too hot to follow them and used my Barbi Doll as I worried myself to a rousing climax.

January 20th

Just a quick note -- in a few minutes I'm off to the laundry room... to meet him! Yeah, yeah, I know... he's chasing everything that moves! Fuck it! I WANT to be caught!

I was reading a medical text when he called.

"I'd like to talk to you," he said, God almighty, that voice of his! It sounds like that black singer... now what's his name? Shit! I can't think... He's heavyset and god-awful ugly, well, not really ugly, I guess. Ah, ya know the one whose voice goes straight to your pussy.

Ohhhh Bob... I'm fighting hard to regain my composure.

"Umm, you are talking to me and I'm listening Bob."

"No, no. I need to talk with... to you in person... face to face, ya know? Err, I'm gonna be doing some laundry in about an hour at that launderette on Columbia Drive. You know the place?"

"Yes... yes I do." I was squirming, biting my finger and squeezing my thighs together.

"Well... I figured if you're running low on clothes too, you could keep me company, you know? Err... if not then let's get together soon huh?"

"An hour from now?" I asked, stalling just to give me a moment to think.

"Yeah, you know where it is don't you?"

"Isn't it near that Chinese place?"

"That's it!"

"Okay, I'll see you there."

I'd washed my things earlier that morning, but I stuffed clean clothes into my laundry bag. I can't imagine what he needs to tell me. Maybe he wants to ask me out. Maybe he wants to borrow some money. He knows I saw my parents and parents always lay some cash on their kids. Fuck it. I gotta change my clothes, fix my hair... will an hour be enough time?

Fifty-nine minutes later, I burst through the doors of the Laundromat only to find that Bob was the only one there. Actually, it was closed. He'd persuaded a friend to let him lock up, and he was waiting for me with a single rose in his hand. I'd forgotten how lovely looking he is! No! Not really, but Lord, he was scrumptious looking!

My god! I haven't been on the receiving end of flowers since... the prom. Ewe! He was tactful enough to praise my ensemble - guess the platform boots and velvet mini-dress were the right choice for doing my laundry.

Gently drawing me close by the back of my neck, he pecked me on the forehead, which I thought was sweet. God those eyes of his! I'm usually a chatterbox, but when I'm with him I'm almost catatonic. But those eyes! Even his eyebrows reek of sex. I know, I know, I'm almost always horny, but I have to use a half box of Kleenex to wipe myself dry after being with him. Of course, I grab my Barbi doll as soon as I'm alone. Like now. Barbi and I just finished a session. But, back to Bob.

I like him a lot. Yeah, right. That's cool, fool. Mega crush is more like it. When's he gonna kiss me? When's he gonna ravish me? When?

Get this, he noticed the bag I was carrying and we did my laundry together. He only had the rose. Duh! What a jerk I am! Well, not completely, cause we and talked and talked and talked. He apologized for leaving the party with the redhead, touching my arm, ever so lightly. I imagined his fingers were tiny butterflies caressing my body everywhere at once.

One time he brushed my hair from my cheek, tucking it behind my ear. And all the while I listened to that hypnotic voice of his. I was folding underwear on wobbly legs, trying to play it cool, all the while thinking that I'd follow him anywhere when a couple of his friends popped in and pried him away to shoot pool. The Pigs! January 21st

Made sure I ran into Bob after Chemistry class. After being pushed, prodded and poked by Julie to take the initiative, I asked him out for a drink after school. I didn't think I'd have the courage, but he said YES! I couldn't think of a thing to say after that. What a doofus!

It turned out really nice. We had a couple beers at the Lion's Den and we talked about things in general for ages. We were making the usual first date conversation, and that was okay, but when I asked about his mom, the floodgates opened. He told me how her fragile health left him feeling vulnerable and that he'd always been ambivalent about his relationship with his parents, who are (Go figure) both psychiatrists. I was kinda surprised. He was so up-front about his problems so soon. But, I figured (1) he's the son of two shrinks, so I'm sure he thinks it's unhealthy to do anything other than lay bare your every last feeling, and (2) he doesn't, after all, seem to have more issues than the average guy. He's just unusual in expressing them. Besides, I looked into his gorgeous orbs and saw strength to match the sadness, so I grabbed his hand under the table while he kept talking about the future and what it held for our generation. Meanwhile, I gaped into those gray eyes of his and got wetter and wetter.

It took me forever to realize his hand was under my mini and creeping up my leg. My thighs opened up, and when his hand actually brushed against my pussy, (no, I wasn't wearing panties, I've almost given up on them 'cause I love feeling the breeze waft its way up my skirt and the fact that someone might be checking me out.) I clamped my legs together and trapped him.

"Did I frighten you?" he asked, appearing extremely concerned.

"Yes, sorta, ummm I mean... it's okay." I reassured him, then prattled on. "I really don't mind, I was... err, kinda surprised, like err, we haven't even kissed yet and here..."

"Oh," he said, "I hope you can forgive me," and he leaned over and smelled my hair. "I've been dying to kiss you for days now, but..."

He kissed the top of my head. I liked that, but it wasn't what I was expecting. Then his lips touched the rim of my ear. I remember now they were dry and I felt his breath on my ear and neck.

I spread my legs apart and his finger traveled along my vagina searching for my opening. It wasn't long before he found it and his finger wormed into me. I squirmed a little as my pussy began to twitch from a series of small electrical charges his finger seemed to ignite. I glanced around. No one was paying us any attention. My legs opened some more as his mouth immersed itself into the nape of my neck.

Groaning with pleasure, I knocked over my beer, and allowed it to pour unimpeded into my lap as he gently bit the skin along my throat. I know I sighed, maybe I moaned too; but I know I made some rude, slutty noises when with a series of little bites, he made his way to the corner of my lips. I opened my eyes but quickly closed them again on seeing his gray eyes looking at me. He pulled me tighter against him, slowly, sensually(nibbling, licking and lightly biting my lower lip. It seemed he thought he had all the time in the world. And as far as I was concerned he did. He had two fingers inside me now, stirring me towards an early climax. My hands contented themselves with caressing his face, memorizing his features in Braille.

Oh, man, he is a GREAT kisser. His lips felt so soft and tender against mine and he wasn't in any hurry to swallow me up. He took his sweet time and I enjoyed every second of that sweet man's kiss. He broke it off only to kiss my eyes, my nose and my throat, then he returned to my mouth.

But first he said, "You mean the world to me baby."

"Ohhhhhh." Was the best I could manage.

Next he was gently nibbling my neck. My hand cupped his head and entangled itself in his hair as I inhaled with surprise.

"Gee, I remembered to breath," I said into his ear and he chuckled, but those long fingers didn't stop moving. I pulled back slightly and he looked up into my eyes. A seductive smile subtly turning up the corners of his delicious lips. Our eyes met, and then our lips. I'd been kissed many times by delightful women, but never, never, with this intensity. His lips were slightly parted and the aroma of the beer on his breath permeated my senses along with that soft touch. My eyes were closed tightly, and I will never be able to describe the colors I felt or saw as he kissed me.