Chapter 3

STEVE

My name is Steve McCall, and I grew up in western Massachusetts. At the age of 10, I discovered electronics and tinkering - I joined the radio club in High school. I thought I was going to learn Morse code and get a ham ticket, but soon decided that working with Radio Frequency stuff was not my thing. I did build a radio receiver and my own high fidelity amplifier, and in the process discovered that I loved classical music. My father, my brothers, and I would occasionally go for hikes in one of the nearby state parks, and I began to enjoy and appreciate the time spent outdoors.

I was a late bloomer socially, with almost no dates in high school except for a few painful, forgettable, and uncomfortable evenings, arranged by my mother, with girls who were daughters of her friends. Inevitably they were somewhat chubby and pasty-faced as well as poor company - they didn't enjoying the dates any more than I did. What was worse, they were indifferent students and there really weren't many areas of common interest.

Occasionally I envied the football players who were constantly surrounded by the pretty cheerleaders (and, according to rumor, several couples had become intimate). Several of them were in some of my classes and I quickly realized that I was just plain smarter than they were. I was an excellent student, and graduated second in my class so was easily accepted to MIT, even winning an academic scholarship.

What a shock! From a small city, I was dumped in the Boston area. Moreover, while I had a very easy time with my classes in high school, I found the MIT courses were very challenging, and required a lot of time for studying, lab work, and homework assignments. As a consequence, I didn't have much time for a social life, although I did want to get outdoors from time to time, so I joined the campus outing club which frequently went on hikes in the countryside outside of Boston.

There were very few women students at MIT at that time, and most of them, while undoubtedly very smart, either tended to have long greasy stringy hair or were almost hostile to the opposite sex. As a consequence, the outing club often joined forces with similar groups from one of the many women's colleges in the area for a day expedition.

In my sophomore year, I noticed one of these girls smiling at me every time we happened to be on the same trip, and we usually hiked together. I didn't mind, and enjoyed the company. She was prettier than the girls back home that I had been made to take out, and she seemed fairly intelligent. However, I didn't think much about her at other times until the end of one trip. As we were getting on the bus to head back to Cambridge, she took the initiative and asked me if I would join her for a casual dinner at an Italian restaurant near the MIT campus. I was surprised, but accepted and actually enjoyed myself. Fortunately I had enough sense and pocket cash to pick up the check.

A few weeks later, I got a phone call at the dorm.

"Hello, this is Steve," I answered the phone.

"Hi Steve, this is Anne. I enjoyed the spaghetti last month, and had hoped to hear from you before this." was what I heard.

I was astounded! I had assumed that the man should always be the one to take the lead in a relationship, but realized that I didn't have a problem with her calling.

I said "Well, between ROTC, a tough exam yesterday, and trying to understand boolean algebra, and how diode logic works, it's been crazy here."

Ann exclaimed "Ugh! I'm sorry I asked - my Shakespeare course is much more interesting and I'm really getting into it. At any rate, I called to invite you for dinner at my house on Friday. My parents will be away for the weekend, and they won't be able to complain about the mess I'm apt to be making in the kitchen."

"Well, OK, I guess. But I don't know where you live, how I'm going to get there, or what time."

"Take the MTA to Harvard Square, and then get on the Huron Avenue trackless trolley. Get off at Fresh Pond Parkway. Walk back to Huron Court. Our house is the third one on the left; it's the dark brown bungalow. See you at 6 o'clock!"

I wondered what I was getting into, but hoped that she was a decent cook and I would enjoy the meal.

Friday rolled around, I had almost forgotten about the dinner, but remembered in time to put on a clean shirt and pair of slacks. I headed out to the MTA station and rode the two stops to Harvard Square where I found the right trolleybus. Just before Fresh Pond Parkway I saw a florist shop, so when I got off, I walked back to it and picked out a small bunch of flowers, thinking, "My mother would be glad to see that I remembered to do this." I then walked back to the brown bungalow and rang the bell.

Anne answered the door with a smile, but when she saw the flowers, she threw her arms around me and gave me a warm hug. I was surprised, but noticed that it felt good, especially where her boobs were pushing against my chest. Reluctantly, I released her and said, "Something here smells good - what is it?"

"Veal scallopine, and it's almost ready. Now please open this bottle of wine and pour us each a glass at the table."

I wasn't terribly used to drinking wine - I was too young to legally drink in Massachusetts, but there were occasional beer parties at MIT and I found that I liked beer in modest quantities. However, somehow I managed to extract the cork without embarrassing myself and pour the wine. Almost immediately, Anne brought out two plates to the table and we sat down to eat.

"This is really good, Anne - where did you learn to cook so well?"

"My father is a chef, and when it looked like I was interested, he taught me a lot."

All too soon, the meal and the wine were finished. I enjoyed hearing Anne talk about her courses, and tried without much success to explain to her the computer-related courses that I was studying. This was made more difficult because I really thought that math, engineering and science were the only things worth studying.

Anne had a pot of coffee ready, and after she quickly put the dishes in the dishwasher, she brought the coffee into the comfortable living room and put on some quiet classical music. We sat on the sofa sipping coffee for a while, and listening to the music. The wine may have gone to my head because I found myself reaching out and putting an arm over Anne's shoulders. She turned to me and gave me my first kiss. "This keeps getting better," I thought. I put my other arm around her and pulled her closer.

We sat like that in silence for a few minutes, then Anne kissed me harder and her face started to get flushed. She asked me why I had been so shy, and I explained about my unhappy dating experience in High School. She said, "Well, I really like you, and I want you to start by taking my clothes off. I want your first time to be good."

Again, she had astounded me. "Am I really ready for this?" I thought. "Is this really going to happen?"

I fumbled with the buttons on her blouse and the waistband of her skirt. I was totally helpless when it came to her bra, and she ended up unhooking it herself. Clad just in a pair of white panties, she proceeded to unbutton my shirt and then remove it and my pants, noticing the substantial bulge in my underpants.

Slowly I removed her panties as she did the same for me. This was my first sight of a naked female, and I was surprised to see the patch of hair between her legs. I only had a general idea of what to do, and while I kissed her again and rubbed my hands over her nipples, I had no understanding of foreplay or how a woman responds. In my eagerness I laid her down on the sofa and tried to enter her. "Wait" she gasped - "let me help you." She spread her lips apart, and said "Put it there and then push it in gently." I noticed that as I pushed in to her body that it was tight and not very well lubricated - but it still felt good. I moved slowly in her a few times, but she did not particularly respond, just lying still and not saying anything.