I lost my William early in 2001. He was a writer who, one day, planned to use my diary, as a basis for true erotic stories. I kept the diary through our young courtship and beyond, William and I enjoyed reading erotic stories of this type.
He planned to use the pen name Billy Hand. As a means of therapy for dealing with his loss, I have taken up the project. Though not as accomplished a writer as William, I too, write professionally for travel and vacation guides. I hope you enjoy our stories as much as I did living them.
Whether you believe our stories or not, trust me when I say then have been embellished little.
Our sexual awakening is told in the CARREE LOVES BILLY series.
There are 10 separate other stories to be written, from Williams outlines, about specific days and events in our sexual lives. This is the fifth in the series. It tells the story of our lives away from each other for the first time at separate schools.
Not seeing each other everyday changed our perspective, and enhanced our feelings. It also let us see other people's lives and relationships through our love focused eyes and learned how to use those thoughts as building blocks for our lives together.
The final few days leading up to our departure to college was supposed to be a sex filled romp that would hold us over until we saw each other again. Ha, think again!
The details of life and love are totally different than those of life and school as you prepare to leave home for the first time. So many people you had to see, so many details you had to attend to. Not to mention, packing, deciding what to bring, and what not to bring. Turning your life's switch from "care free, fun and love filled", to "student, first semester, scared as hell," took both hands and all the strength you could muster.
As we got down to the final days of our summer it became increasingly obvious that we were not going to be able to make up for future lost time filling our cups from each others sex fonts. "Too busy" became the mantra of each cancelled meeting.
In the end, at our last late night phone conversation, we decided that since our Upstate New York schools were only 72 miles apart we could meet on the first Sunday before classes to say our official goodbyes. (Read -sex) Later, we were to find that there was a reason that freshmen students were summoned on the Wednesday before classes were to start, and those 5 days were still not going to be enough time to adjust to campus life, and life with new roommates; The roommates of which you had no choosing.
I was to live in a suite style dorm room. There were 3 small rooms and one larger common area. In the common area we could share refrigerator, stereo and the few pieces of furniture they provided. My roommates were to be Henny and Maria.
I asked upon our first meeting if "Henny" was short for Henrietta, and was given a cold, "No - guess again."
I never ventured another guess, but by the end of the first weekend, I heard the same question asked, and same answer given about 100 times. You would have thought she would have a better answer than that. She acted like it was a stupid question, but I didn't think it was. Although it was a little thing, she was off on the wrong foot with me.
Just before my Residence Life Council meeting, on Saturday night, I had to make a call to Bill and tell him that our planned meeting on Sunday would be impossible, unless he could make the trip all the way Upstate. There was no way I was going to be able to rent a car and drive the halfway to meet him. Bill had given me $50 and a phone number to rent a car for just such a liaison. Freshmen were not allowed to have a car on campus. Bill thought the rented car would give me transportation to see him, as well as a way to get any last minute odds and ends I might need. His good intentions were for naught. It seemed that both our campuses made it impossible to find free time for any such high jinx. I had spent all of Saturday scouting down, and waiting in lines for, my books for the first day of classes When I got back to my room Henny was reading a campus guide and without looking up said,
"Karen, a boy called and left a message for you to call him. I lost the number, sorry. In the future, please try to have an answering machine pick up your calls."
I stopped for a second to see if Henny was trying to be funny, or snotty. I was in the mood for neither. I couldn't decide whether to take her snottiness, or to confront it now. The pressure of being away from Bill and home got the best of me.
"Well, fuck you too, Henny Penny. My name is Carree, and you know it is. It's on the fucking door. There are just 3 of us behind that goddamn door and looking out for each other shouldn't be all that hard. Taking a phone message shouldn't kill you; I would have done it for you, or anyone under these new circumstances. If you had left the phone to ring more than 5 times, it would have picked up itself, and how could you have lost the number, I bet you haven't left the room," I said in an even voiced mini-tirade.
"Listen blondie," she countered. "If you think I'm going to be your booking agent for every guy you want to meet or date, you're wrong. I didn't have a pen and by the time I found one, I forgot it. With your looks, I don't imagine you'll have to wait long for another call."
I wanted to rip her face off, but that wasn't me. I decided to take the high road and take the blame for getting off on the wrong foot.
"Listen Henny, I called you a name, you called me one. Let's end it right here.
We should be able to get along. I will look after your calls if you're not here, if you can do the same for Maria and I.
So, One might sense you have an issue with my being blonde and want to stereo type me. That is stupid.
Also, I'll only have one caller, which will be Bill, my future husband. He goes to school about 75 miles from here and if we remain roommates for more than few weeks, you will meet him.
If we have a problem, let's get it out in the open now. I don't know what I possible could have done to cause you to treat me like I am some burden on you,"
I said as I put all my cards on the table.
"I'm sorry for being so rotten, but MY boyfriend hasn't called me yet and I'm here 3 days now. He's not away at school, he's at home, and I sense NOT missing me. He's the best freind I have. I don't have the blonde hair, the big boobs, the confidant air that you do, to get another lover so easy," Henny sort of apologized.
"Well Henny, you would think that I flaunted myself or my situation, and I haven't." I started in.
"We have barely talked." I concluded, and then continued.
"If what you perceive as my "confidant air" offends you, I am sorry. But, I must tell you, I am scared shitless and about as far from confidant as possible. The only thing I have that is sure is my relationship with my fianc≠e. The fact that you lost his number pisses me off, but does not deter or diminish that confidence. We are forever. So if the fact that your boyfriend hasn't called has made you think that breaking me up with mine will make you feel better, try again. Like I said, we are forever. Take my phone, call your boyfriend on my dime, and ask him why he hasn't called you. When you get the answer, you will know and maybe you won't be so pissy. THEN maybe we can get off on the right foot and we can become friends, as long as we are going to live together."
That said, I turned, handed her my phone, went into my cubicle and closed the door.
I knew Bill would call me back, and I suspected that he was going to tell me the same thing I was going to tell him, that is was too hectic to get away. My asking him to drive all the way here would be selfish, and if he did come, I don't know when he and I would have time together, besides the evening, and I didn't want him getting back to his campus dorm late. His classes began Monday morning as well.
I had about a half hour to relax before my next pre planned "freshman welcome"
event put on by the Student Life Dept. I was chosen to take part in a program to help other frosh with problems. It was a 4-year thing of helping students get along with campus life. Those in their fourth year of the program were indoctrinating potential new members. We were chosen from personality profiles that were taken at orientation. I wasn't in love with being picked, and could have turned it down, but the Residence Life guide from orientation weekend said it cold open a lot of other doors for you. So, I would try it.
I had just lay back on the hardest bed I would ever sleep on and I heard a knock on the window. It was may other roommate, Maria.
Maria was a thin, dark haired Brooklyn Italian girl who clicked with me when we roomed on Orientation Weekend. We had hoped to be paired for the year and made the request when we mailed our registration forms in. Our pairing showed the good sense it was to attend the orientation. We both missed boyfriends that weekend, we both were in committed relationships, and we were 2 peas in a pod in many ways. There would be few conflicts with us.
I opened the blinds to answer her knock.
"Is Henny still here, still in a lousy mood waiting for the phone to ring?" she asked.
.... There is more of this story ...