After Joan graduated from high school she went away to college. Not just away as in Hartford, New Haven or Boston, she went all the way away to Lawrence, Kansas. We were all amazed that she had accepted a scholarship that far away. Ok, we were amazed that she'd been offered a scholarship in the first place, but to the University of Kansas? Joan had applied to as many schools as she could, hoping to be accepted at one with a good financial aid package. She had hurt her chances by being in an all girls Catholic high school, but her grades had been good and she had an excellent recommendation from a nun at the school whose brother just happened to be an alumni and benefactor at KU. In 1961, who you knew was still very important, and Joan was offered a partial scholarship and a part time job at the university. All of that, taken together, would just barely allow her to get by financially if she was frugal. My parents were dead set against her going, both because of the distance from home, and because she would be beyond their reach if she decided to spread her wings and soar. My mother hadn't forgotten Joan's streak of rebelliousness when she was a sophomore in high school. In the end, it was decided that it would be unfair to deny her the opportunity of a college education. She promised to study hard, attend mass regularly, and to faithfully avoid the temptations of the boys she'd inevitably be meeting in college.
Joan confided to Ellen that she had met a guy on the train trip out to Kansas and had surrendered her virginity to him in the Pullman berth my grandfather had arranged for her through one of his fellow conductor's. Joan had a great time during her two years being away at school. If she didn't particularly distinguish herself academically, she was certainly well liked and popular on campus. At the end of her sophomore year Joan was placed on academic probation and lost her scholarship. She told me that she had enjoyed herself for the whole two years she was away, but that she knew it was time to come home and begin her adulthood. She swore to all who would listen that her party days were behind her and she just wanted to meet a nice boy and get married and settle down.
Joan had always been extremely pretty, and she had a body that had been turning heads since she was twelve. She had chestnut brown hair and was wearing it down past her shoulders when she came back home. She still had a large bosom, thin waist and full hips. Her dark brown eyes were set back and her lashes were long and striking. She had somehow picked up a lot about make up and how to dress while she was away, and she knew how to make the most of her natural assets, and how to conceal any defects through make up and misdirection. She certainly wasn't shy or reticent around boys and men after she got back either.
In the summer of 1963, Joan started her campaign to attract the attention of a particular young man from a noted, highly distinguished, and exceptionally wealthy local family. Bartholomew Deveroux Poynton, "Beadie" to his friends, was a twenty three year old recent graduate of Yale University. His father, grandfather and great-grandfather before him had all graduated from Yale in their time and had come back to Connecticut to practice law or to run the many family business interests. Each had spent one year abroad between their sophomore and junior years, making future business contacts, and sowing their wild oats. It was pretty well accepted in our little part of the world that the Poynton family was Main Line, top of the heap. You could aspire to no greater heights than to be able to say that you had dated a Poynton if you were a young lady residing in southeast Connecticut. Of course, the Poynton men always married into other Main Line families, from places like New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Richmond. In more than one hundred years, no Connecticut woman had met the nearly impossibly high standard for marriage that the Poynton's had set. For a poor girl coming from a family noted for their violence and lower class habits and values, even meeting a Poynton in a social situation, was considered to be beyond the pale.
Joan didn't think of herself as being a poor girl, and most assuredly didn't believe that who or what her family was should control the limits of her ambitions. She knew that she was very pretty and she knew that she had the figure that attracted first, second and third looks from all men who found women attractive. In her mind, unless "Beadie" was a queer, she'd get his undivided attention. Rumors around the area had it that "Beadie" was not only decidedly heterosexual, but was something of a womanizer, and that it had his parents very concerned. Supposedly, earlier in the year, a young woman of fine family over in Providence had suddenly decided to visit California for a six weeks stay after having been his steady escort during the four months preceeding her unscheduled trip west. That same source of rumors contended that a considerable sum of money had changed hands between the Poynton's and the girl's family.
I first learned from Ellen that Joan had set her sights on young B. D. Poynton. We were enjoying a late snack together, snuggled up on the couch. She was sitting between my legs and had her foot folded up in her lap, she was a little more flexible in those days, and I was massaging her foot with my one hand and eating the egg sandwich she had fixed for me with the other. We took turns sipping from a bottle of birch soda.
"I'm worried about Joanie, Jackie. She's getting ready to do something that I think is very dangerous." I waited for her to continue, pressing my thumb into the soft padded area at the top underside side of her foot and bending her toes while I chewed down the remainder of my sandwich. "That's good, what you're doing there, with your thumb, but quit bending my toes, that hurts." I had finished my sandwich by then and took the bottle from her hand and washed everything down with the soda before handing the near empty bottle back to her. "Don't you even want to know what Joanie's planning?" I started kissing the back of her neck then, reaching my other hand around her and cupping a breast to give me more leverage for the foot massage. Her nipple hardened beneath my touch and she leaned her back into me more and tried to push her butt closer to me. I started blowing in the hollow of her neck and kissing and nibbling right behind her ear. "Jackie, if you keep doing stuff like that, I'm going to forget what I'm talking to you about." I quit massaging her foot and began massaging up high on her thigh, slowly moving upwards in what we both knew would end in a full scale frontal assault on her pussy. "Dammit Jackie, this is important. Don't get me worked up before I get to tell you about your sister!" I let go of her aroused breast and moved that hand down towards her center, deciding that a pincer movement was called for if I was going to be successful in achieving my goal. "Ok, Jackie, if you don't care, I don't care. Just go right ahead and do what you want." I quickly lifted her up, and, with her in my arms, got up from the couch and carried her into our bedroom. That wasn't as easy to do as I made it sound, but there's something about a man being physically strong and forceful that turns a certain type of woman on. Luckily for me, Ellen has always responded well to the caveman touch.
I kissed her all the way into the bedroom and dropped her softly onto the bed. I opened my robe and was wearing nothing underneath it. As soon as she noticed how ready I was, she started peeling out of her pj's. I've always liked giving face to a girl and Ellen had always been a willing and grateful recipient of same. She had a taste like nectar, fish nectar, but sweet too. Once her juices started flowing fully, every part of her, near or between her legs got very sensitive and receptive to touch or tongue. She built up to things a little slowly, but when she got up to speed, she was like a runaway train, totally out of control and liable to jump the tracks. It was good for both of us. I got to work off the calories from our little snack and she got a pretty good workout as well. Her hair was wet and curly by the time we were through, as was mine. We rolled over and lay side by side, catching our breath and coming back down to earth. I had recently quit smoking again, and I really missed that after sex smoke. The first one in the morning, the one right after a meal, and lighting up just after sex. Those were the times I missed smoking the most.
"So, you were saying about Joan, something about dangerous?"
"Let's just go to sleep baby. I'm too tired from all the nick nick. I'll tell you in the morning. I love you." Another thing about Ellen, when she got tired and sleepy you could just forget about anything else, she was done. I knew better than to try to get the information out of her, so we just spooned together and dropped right off to sleep.
It was the next morning and Ellen was filling me in on the ridiculous plan that Joan had confided to her. "So, Joanie thinks that she can actually get this guy interested in her enough that he'll forget all about two centuries of family tradition and just fall in love with her and they'll marry and live happily ever after."
"Ellen, isn't that the American way? Boy meets girl, they fall in love, get married and live happily ever after. That's what we did, what our parents did, what's dangerous about that?"
"He's a Poynton, that's what's dangerous. Poynton's don't mix with people like Joanie and I. They do it with the DuPonts, the Rockefellers and the Lodge's. Even the Kennedy's aren't good enough for them, so how does Joanie stand a chance of getting anything other than a huge disappointment?"
.... There is more of this story ...