Chapter 31: Presents

Birthday Time

December 22 – 24, 1975

I picked Cathy up from her house just after 8:30; as she slid into seat she gave me a big, passionate kiss.

“Where to first?” she asked.

“I was thinking about Warriewood,” I replied, as we headed up Mona Vale road. “There are lots of places there, provided we don’t trespass on one of the market gardens.”

We headed up a side street from McPherson Street, towards the Catholic girl’s school, “Mater Maria”. Being school holidays, the place was deserted, of course. We parked under a tree, jumped over the fence and walked behind one of the buildings, into the trees.

“Can you imagine if the Nuns could see us?” she asked. “They would freak out!”

Once among the trees, we quickly undressed.

“Last night in bed, I was thinking about everything we said last night, up at Whale Beach,” she said. “I still felt all wrapped up in love with you when I got in bed.”

“I felt like that, too,” I said.

“Now, if had I known we would be coming here,” she said, “I would have dressed up like a Catholic school girl. Plain white cottontail panties, a simple white bra, white blouse, knee length skirt. I could pretend to be sneaking off to meet my boyfriend during lunchtime for some hot sex, hoping the nuns didn’t see me.”

“I like the sound of that, maybe in the new year we could try some dress-up role play activities? You could dress like a virginal schoolgirl, and I could be a lecherous teacher wanting to corrupt you,” I said.

“Oh, I like the sound of us doing things like that,” she said. “Now, the thought of me being a sweet, innocent Catholic schoolgirl, about to have an encounter with his boyfriend for the first time has my sweet innocent pussy on fire. You lean back there on that rock; your prick is about to penetrate some sweet virginal schoolgirl cunt.”

I sat back on the rock, and Cathy straddled my waist. She took hold of my prick, rubbed my knob along her slit, and then pushed down hard when she had me lined up. Her cunt enveloped my prick; I was deep inside her.

“Do you like that?” she asked. “Do you like your prick deep in my sweet cunt?”

“Mmm, I love it,” I replied. “Hearing you refer to ‘your cunt’ turns me on, too.”

“What else could I call her?” she asked, as she rode up and down. “I could call her my vagina? That sounds too clinical. How about snatch, or coochie, or vajayjay? You would laugh if I used those terms, and I couldn’t say that and keep a straight face. What about my fanny? You could fuck my fanny. What about my front bum, or vertical smile?”

I started grinning at the terms she came up with.

“No, don’t you dare laugh!” she said. “Let’s just keep referring to her as ‘my cunt’; I get turned on talking that way with you, too.”

She continued riding me; sliding up and down, and caressing and squeezing her breasts as she did. I held her backside tight, letting my fingers slide around to her arse crack. I pressed a finger to her tight little arsehole, and she moaned softly.

“Can you push your finger in a bit?” she asked.

I pushed my index finger in, feeling the resistance of her sphincter muscles. A little harder, and they gave way, and my finger slid in to the first knuckle.

“You are fucking both holes,” she said. “I’m going to come soon, suck my tits for me.”

She pushed her chest forward; one lovely hard nipple was less than an inch from my mouth. I opened my mouth, placed my lips over that nipple, and sucked. My tongue lapped around her hard bud, her hands grabbed my shoulders tightly, and she cried out.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so damn good!” she exclaimed.

She pushed hard down on my cock; I closed my eyes as I started spurting. I could feel her fingernails digging into my shoulders, but I ignored that, concentrating on us both coming. She finished, and relaxed her grip on my shoulders. I pulled my finger from her arse, and she stood up, leaning against a tree.

“Oh shit, your shoulders are bleeding!” she said. “Did I ... When I came, I must have dug my fingers into you; I’m so sorry, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, you didn’t hurt,” I replied. “I think I was concentrating on something else at the time.”

We cleaned ourselves up, and she wiped the scratches on my shoulders.

“Do you have something in that first aid kit?” she asked. “I should put something on that, so you don’t get it infected.”

Back at the car, she put some mercurochrome on where her nails had gouged my shoulders, then put some Band-Aid’s on the wounds.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “The pleasure when I came was so intense; I didn’t realize what I was doing to you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “You really would have shocked those nuns; they probably would have dropped their rosary beads if they could have seen us!”

“Don’t be sacrilegious,” she said. “You’ll get us struck by lightning; it’s bad enough us having done that in the Catholic school grounds.”

We laughed as we worked out our next location; North Narrabeen. We tossed up either going somewhere around the lagoon, either Deep Creek or Middle Creek, but we didn’t know if that would still be officially part of North Narrabeen. We finally decided on Turimetta Beach. We parked near the headland at the parking area on the side of Narrabeen Park Parade, grabbed our towels, and walked down the steep dirt track to the beach. It was completely deserted, with the exception of some surfers at the southern end, catching the break there. From the rocks at the north end of the beach we had a great view over the swimming pools at North Narrabeen, all the way to Long Reef, and then towards North Head and Manly.

We decided to have a swim first; the water was cool and refreshing. The waves weren’t quite big enough for bodysurfing, but we enjoyed swimming and splashing around. When we felt sufficiently relaxed, we went back up on the sand, and dried ourselves off. We looked around for a suitable place to make love and Cathy suggested just upon the rock platform at this end of the beach. We found a place, shielded from view from above by a rock overhang, and behind a larger rock that had fallen from the cliff face.

We spread our towels out to make the ground a bit more comfortable, and Cathy told me to lie down, so she could ride me. She made it long and slow, coming twice before I came inside her. We held each other, cuddling for a while before we moved back to the beach for a quick swim to clean up.

Back in the car, I pulled out the street directory to look for the next location.

“Do you have Wheeler Heights on your list?” I asked her.

“No, I don’t even know where that is,” she replied.

I pointed it out on the map, and she looked at her list of places.

“Shit, we seem to have overlooked that one,” she said. “Will we have time to do it today?”

“I guess so,” I replied. “We can do both Narrabeen and Wheeler Heights after we grab some lunch. I need to be home early; I have to mow the grass and clean out the pool ready for the party tomorrow.”

We stopped to grab a burger and a coke at the take-away shop near North Narrabeen pool, not a healthy lunch, but really tasty. We had both built up a good appetite, and the burger with the lot – meat patty, onions, lettuce, tomato, beetroots, bacon, cheese, pineapple ring – really hit the spot. With our stomachs filled, we drove to Narrabeen, then around the southern side of the lagoon, until we reached a large park. We thought this would be an ideal place to explore. A short walk along a dirt path led us to the shore of the lagoon. We headed back into the trees, and soon found a small clearing that would be ideal for our needs.

“I didn’t know there were so many natural parks around in the area,” Cathy said. “Just as well, otherwise we would never have done so much. How would you like it this time? You could take me from behind, if I were to bend over that fallen tree.”

“That would be good,” I said. “Do you want to feel me pounding into you?”

“Fuck Yeah!” she exclaimed. “Do me really hard and fast, like you are fucking my brains out!”

She quickly had her clothes off, and as she bent over the fallen tree, she reached up under herself to feel her pussy.

“God, I’m already wet!” she said. “Just the thought of you fucking me like that gets me so damn horny ... Come on, what are you waiting for?”

I smiled to myself, tickled by Cathy’s eagerness for sex. I quickly removed my clothes, and positioned myself behind her. Her wet pussy was at just the right height, I felt her hand take hold of my shaft, and rub my knob against her slit.

“Damn, that feels so good,” she moaned. “Do you want me? Do you want your cock in my wet, aching cunt? Tell me that you want to fuck my brains out, I want to hear you tell me how much you want me; go on, be really, really explicit.”

“Cathy, I need my cock buried deep in your soaking wet cunt,” I said, playing along with her. “I’m going to fuck you really hard, really deep, then spurt deep in your sweet, sexy cunt, filling you with my hot, sticky spunk.”

“God, that gets me so hot when you talk to me like that,” she said. “Now ram your cock hard into my cunt ... oh, FUCK, that’s so fucking good!” she cried out as I pushed deep into her.

“Yeah, fuck my cunt really hard,” she moaned. “Pound your prick hard and deep, I want to feel you spreading my cunt wide open.”

She was pushing back against me, so I held her arse cheeks, and pushed them apart, exposing her sexy arsehole. I moved a hand down, and pressed my thumb to her puckered hole.

“Oh, yes, push that finger in up my arse,” she said.

I pushed my thumb in, feeling the resistance as her tight hole initially refused to open. Then she must have relaxed, and my thumb slipped inside her.

“I love you doing that as you fuck my cunt,” she moaned.

I could feel her fingers rubbing her pussy furiously. She was as aroused as I had ever seen her.

“Oh God, I’m about to come,” she cried out. “Push in to my arse harder, move your finger around ... oh YES!”

I didn’t have time to follow her directions before she came very noisily, groaning and grunting with each muscle spasm. I now concentrated on fucking her hard, so I could come inside her. I closed my eyes, and focussed on the feelings her wet cunt sliding along my shaft. With each hard thrust into her, Cathy would moan and cry out; she clearly loved me pounding into her.

I could feel my orgasm getting closer; it was going to take a little longer having already come twice earlier today. I changed my angle slightly, causing the underside of my prick to get more pressure from her cunt as I slid in and out. I could feel the sweat running down my face and back; the day was rather warm. My balls started to contract, and I could feel the muscles around my prick begin to contract. Then I felt that first hot surge as my come started to flood down my prick; I let out a loud groan as I exploded inside her waiting cunt.

“Oh yes, Cathy!” I cried out.

“Oh God, pump into me!” she responded, starting to come again.

We were locked together, both experiencing powerful orgasms. I held her tight against me, mainly so I didn’t fall over. When we had both finished coming, I slowly pulled my thumb and my prick out from her, turned her around, and pulled her up to kiss her. We had a long, deep kiss, her tongue deep in my mouth. I could feel her hard, erect nipples pressing against my chest, and she dug her fingers into my buttocks.

“That was so fucking hot,” she said. “You really know how to get me so uncontrollably turned on, and when you stuck your finger up my bum...”

“That was my thumb,” I said.

“Oh, that’s why it felt bigger,” she said. “There’s something about you doing that to me, I don’t know what it is, but when you do that to me, touch me there, stick your finger or thumb up my arse, it makes the feelings so much more powerful. Maybe because it seems a bit, I don’t know, naughty, or something like that. It makes me wonder what it might be like if you actually fucked me in the arse. I worry that it might hurt though; your prick is bigger than your thumb. Maybe I should read up about it first.”

“Yeah, no sense in doing things that will hurt you,” I said.

“Now, would you want to do that with me, anal sex?” she asked. “If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay, we both have to want something, otherwise it just isn’t right.”

“We can try it, and if we don’t like it, or you find it hurts too much, then we don’t have to do it again,” I said.

“Well, I think it’s something I want to at least try,” she said. “I’ve read a bit about it, and reading about it turned me on, that’s why I asked you to stick your finger up inside my arse, to see how that felt. And I liked it, particularly when you wiggle your finger about. But your prick is thicker than your thumb; I don’t want you to tear my arsehole.”

“Maybe we will need me to get some lubricant, make sure you are all really slippery first,” I said. “Is there something in that ‘Joy of Sex’ we can read, maybe giving some pointers?”

“I’m pretty sure there is, so next week we can read up on things,” she said. “Not just that book, but I have some others we can read, too.”

“I guess there’s a lot of stuff we don’t know much about,” I said. “We can have fun learning about them together.”

“Okay, feel up to the next location?” she asked, as we walked back to the car.

I really didn’t know much about Wheeler Heights; until an hour ago I never even realized just where it was. I pulled out the street directory, and there appeared to be a park running along South Creek; Cathy gave me directions as I drove the short distance to where we thought would be suitable. We found a place to park along South Creek Road, and walked into the trees. It wasn’t as private as we would have preferred; we could see through the trees to the other side of the creek where there were golfers playing on Cromer golf course. At least we were shielded from the houses along South Creek Road.

We pushed further into the trees and eventually found a place we thought would be suitable: a small grassy clearing. We spread our towels out and Cathy told me to just push my shorts and swimmers down and lie on the towels. She took her shorts off and straddled me, quickly sliding down on my prick.

As she rode me, I could hear the sounds of golfers teeing off just through the trees; every so often there would be the ‘thwack’ sound as someone hit a ball, followed by comments from the other players in that group.

“I wonder what the par is for the hole I’m shooting for is?” I asked Cathy.

“You can take as many strokes as you like,” she said. “You can use two balls, too.”

“I will avoid the water hazard,” I replied. “But I love the two mound bunkers well above the hole.”

“I suppose you will want to trim the ‘green’ around the hole, too,” she said, laughing.

“Get a loin mower to do some loin maintenance,” I said, playing along.

“That’s so bad!” she said. “Now concentrate on the game, and the hole!”

She rode me faster, leaning over and holding me down with her hands on my shoulders. I could hear the sexy sounds of her wet cunt sliding up and down on my prick, pumping me. Her tight muscles were squeezing my shaft, trying to milk my come out of my balls and into her. She grunted softly each time she pushed down onto me, getting faster and harder each time until she was slamming up and down, very fast and hard. With a soft groan, she started coming, and I felt her warm juices seeping down around my balls.

“Come on, come in my cunt, she needs your hot spunk!” she said to me. “I want your cock coming in my cunt, fill my CUNT; dammit, I want you coming in me right now!”

She sounded incredibly turned on; I closed my eyes and tried to picture just how it would look, if I could look closely at her pussy, seeing my cock sliding in and out, seeing her juices coating everything. What would it look like from inside her, I thought? Seeing my knob sliding up and down inside her vagina? That would be a fascinating picture to see.

The thoughts of somehow seeing us fucking from close up turned me on even more; I could feel my orgasm building. I tensed my muscles, and it started.

“I’m coming, Cathy,” I groaned, as the first spurts erupted inside her.

“Oh YES!” she cried out, and seemed to come a second time as I came inside her.

She rose up slowly, and got off me, lying next to me on the towels. She reached down to gently hold and stroke my softening prick.

“He’s so cute when he starts to get small like that,” she said, and leant over me and gently licked my knob clean. “I love your taste; I can’t understand those girls who say it’s revolting. Maybe different guys have different tastes? Perhaps you taste particularly nice while other guys don’t taste anywhere near as good?”

“I have no idea,” I replied. “Maybe diet has something to do with it; you know, how taking some vitamins make your pee very yellow or how eating asparagus makes it smell funny. It might have the same effect on semen.”

“That sounds reasonable to me,” she replied. “Now I guess we need to get back to your place soon; do we have time for a quick swim on the way? Can we stop back at Turimetta beach? We both must really smell of sex!”

Back at the beach, the tide was now rather high; the area on the rock platform where we made love before lunchtime was now covered in water. The surf had flattened right out, so we swam out 30 or 40 metres from the shore. I tried unsuccessfully to catch some of the waves, but they wouldn’t form up properly for me.

“Time to head back home, I guess,” I suggested to Cathy.

We dried ourselves off, got dressed, and walked up the steep path to the car. I dropped her off at her place before heading home. It took almost two hours for me to mow the grass and do the edges, sweeping things up before cleaning the pool. By the time I was finished, I was exhausted. I swam several lazy laps, letting myself cool off before going inside for a nice shower.

“Feel like a beer, son?” my father asked me. “I know it’s a day early, but you’ve earned it, doing all that in the heat of the sun.”

The two of us sat out in the back yard, enjoying our cold beers. We sat in silence for a while; there wasn’t the need for any words. When we had emptied our cans, he looked at me, and shook the can.

“Want another?” he asked, and I shook my head. One beer was enough for me.

“Okay, a big day for you tomorrow,” he continued. “I remember when I turned eighteen; mind you, back then twenty-one was the big birthday; that’s when you were considered an adult. I’ve always felt you’ve acted like an adult for a while though; you’ve never given your mother or me any reason to worry that you might do anything silly or get into trouble.”

“So, are you saying that now is the time for me to start that?” I said, teasing him.

“No, that isn’t what I meant, and you know that,” he said, smiling. “But we’ve given you a lot of freedom, a lot of leeway in letting you do your own thing; staying here by yourself over summer holidays, you playing in the band, staying out at night, and you’ve generally acted responsibly and made us feel we did the right thing by letting you have all that freedom. Now from tomorrow, legally you will be an adult, and all of that, but you will still be living here, and we will still be responsible for you. I just wanted to say that as you are about to turn eighteen, I’m really proud of you Son, not just with how well you’ve done at school, but everything else with your life, too.

“I hear stories from other fathers; problems they have with their kids, getting caught by the police, drinking, driving irresponsibly, getting girls pregnant, some have had their daughters getting knocked up. Your mother and I are so thankful that you’ve never given us anything like that to worry about. All of your friends are nice, too; that’s why we are happy to have them all around here tomorrow, and we know it won’t turn into some wild party.”

That was a long speech for him; I don’t ever recall him telling me much of how he felt about things before.

“Thanks, Dad, you and Mum have been great parents, too,” I replied, “letting me do everything I’ve done, giving me the freedom I’ve had. I’ve tried to make you proud of me, tried to make sure that you wouldn’t have any reason to regret giving me those freedoms.”

“Well, let’s go inside and help your mother with the preparations for tomorrow,” he said, and put his arm around my shoulders as we walked to the back door.

Call it silly, but I really swelled with pride at what he told me. He had never been a big ‘show of emotions’ person, he kept his feelings pretty close to his chest all the time. Somehow, I thought, if he had known what Cathy and I had been doing over the past month or so, he might not be quite so effusive in his praise.

“I just told Will how proud we both are of him,” my father said to my mother.

“Yes, you’ve never caused us any real cause for concern,” she said. “Not only have you done well at school, but you’ve made a success of your music, and what’s more important to me, all of our friends say what a lovely, polite young man Will has become. My only real regret is that you and Lori Earle are not together.”

“Mary, I thought we weren’t going to go on about that with him,” my father said to her.

“John, I’m not going on about it, I’m just expressing my views,” she said. “Now, don’t get me wrong; Cathy Parsons is a nice girl, but we were all hoping that you and Lori would, well, you know. I guess there’s still time for that; with both John and I, neither of our first loves came to all that much. It’s just that as parents, we want the best for you in life, and as we have found, having a nice home, enough money to be comfortable, good jobs; well, that’s all well and good, but the most important thing in life is to be with someone you really love, someone who will make a great partner for you. Your father and I managed to find that, and that’s what we really want for you.

“Last year, after you and Cathy broke up, we know it was Lori that got you back on your feet. Just after that, we had a call from her parents, letting us know that they had a suspicion that things were getting serious between you two, and they wanted to make sure we didn’t have any concerns about that.”

“I said as long as they don’t do anything silly, we were happy with whatever might happen,” my father said.

Ah yes; the good old ‘don’t do anything silly’; I guess had we made love; that would have been way up there around a ten on the silliness scale. I hate to think where Cathy and my actions recently would rate.

“We were all hoping that something might develop during the summer, when both of you were here by ourselves, and it was so disappointing when you broke up,” she continued. “But anyway, I’ve said my piece; there’s still plenty of time for whatever might come of things to happen. The most important thing is for you to be happy with whoever you are with.”

I wonder what it was exactly the Earle’s and my parents talked about? Did they mention how they made the offer of Lori and me taking the boat away for several days? It must have been obvious that this would be setting the scene for us to have sex; and they didn’t freak out, or tell the Earle’s that they wouldn’t be comfortable with that? Just the ‘don’t do anything silly’ line; I wish I knew what ‘anything silly’ would actually be. Maybe it included stuff that they knew other kids had done; drink driving, arrested, fighting, getting some girl pregnant.

I put those thoughts to one side as we started to get things ready for the party. They had hired some boxes of plates and silverware, enough for the forty people that would be around tomorrow. My father and I set to giving everything a quick wash in the kitchen sink, then setting them out on the spare table in the sunroom. Tomorrow morning we would pick up the food: a supply of steaks, sausages, salads and other stuff.

It had been a rather exhausting day; I decided to get an early night’s sleep. Lying in bed, I couldn’t help but go over everything my parents had said earlier. Here I was on the cusp of becoming legally an adult and I still hadn’t worked through the answers to the challenges that both Garry and Lori had put to me: exactly what did I want to do with my life, and who did I want to be with? According to my parents, and just about anyone else who had expressed an opinion, Lori should be the one best for me, and I was making the wrong decision to be with Cathy. So why did I see things differently to almost everyone else?

I cast my mind back to the advice my father gave me when Cathy and I split up the previous year; the three signs that show that you are in love. In particular, the second sign, where you can’t imagine them not being part of your life. Was that how I felt about Cathy at the moment? Sure, things were fun right now, and we were doing a lot of great stuff together. But once she moved to Canberra, how would I feel? Would I be able to get by, or like she’s suggested, how would I react if she found someone else locally? If I was being completely honest with myself, I couldn’t see myself being as distraught as I was when she dumped me last year.

So, did that mean that I really wasn’t in love with her, at least, not how I was the first time around? And if it wasn’t ‘love’, then what was it I was feeling? Maybe, there were just different levels of ‘love’ and I should not over-analyse things too much, but just enjoy what I had at the moment, and be content with having someone I was in love with.

I woke up on the morning of my birthday, feeling pretty good about myself, and my situation in life. I was in love with a wonderful woman, I was going to be starting University in two months’ time, and I had a new solo gig coming up. Life was pretty good, all in all. I got out of bed, pulled some clothes on, and went out to the kitchen for breakfast.

“Good morning Will, and happy birthday”, my mother gave me a big kiss. “After breakfast we can see what presents are here for you.”

I hurried through breakfast, then we went to the family room where my brother and sister gave me their presents; a new wallet from my sister, and book of the complete stories of Sherlock Holmes from my brother. My parents told me to look under the sofa; where I saw a large cardboard box. Opening it, there was a guitar case, and in the case, a red electric guitar; a vintage Fender Stratocaster. I couldn’t believe it; just as I was getting into playing some solo guitar gigs, here was probably one of the classic electric guitars I could possibly have. I was speechless! It wasn’t just any old strat either, but a vintage one, and RED!

“It belonged to a band member of Johnny Saunder’s group,” my father said. “He had it for quite a few years, and decided it was time to sell it. Apparently it’s an old 1962 model, but Johnny mentioned something about the pickup selector switch being replaced with a better one, and some changes to the pickups themselves. Get your amplifier, and let us hear how it sounds.”

I bought the amp in from my bedroom, turned in on, and plugged into the reverb channel. I checked the tuning, and strummed a few chords. I experimented with the different pickup settings; clearly it would take some practice before I really got the hang of it, working out which selector switch position to use for particular sounds, how to get the volume and tone settings right.

I sat on the sofa and played for maybe an hour; different types of songs; experimenting with the settings. I was amazed that I would actually get something like this; I would have to show Garry and have a jam session with the two of us. Some of the guys from the band would be around later, and I’m sure Phil would want to try it out. He would be the best person I knew to teach me how to play it properly, how to get the best out of it.

I had to cut short my playing, as my father and I had to go to pick up the food for the barbecue, and then finish getting things set up before people started to arrive. My next job was to cut up wood for the barbecue; my father had talked about getting his brother-in-law to build a set of gas burners for it, but in my mind, there was nothing like having the aroma of the wood smoke with the meat to make it a proper Aussie barbecue.

Once that was done, I had enough time for a quick shower before people would arrive at eleven. I put some shorts and a shirt on, my swimmers on under the shorts. Just as I was dressed, the front door bell rang, so I went to answer it. It was Janelle and Beth; Beth was holding a large plastic container.

“This is the pasta salad I promised your mother I would bring,” Beth said.

I was surprised she had arrived; just like she was on Sunday, she could easily have passed for Janelle’s older sister.

“Who’s this, Janelle?” I asked. “I didn’t think you had a sister, is she your cousin, down from somewhere visiting?”

“You cheeky boy!” Beth exclaimed. “Are you going to leave us standing out here on the door step?”

“Oh, sorry, come on in, take the salad through to the kitchen,” I said.