Chapter 12: Neighbors Stay Near

The cool night air breezed into the room as I snuggled under the covers with Mrs. Reynolds. A day ago, an hour ago, her warm, full body would have caused tingles to course through my body, but the images of the handsome ambulance attendant pushed naughty thoughts about Mrs. Reynolds away. Further, the idea of going on a date with a girl, confused me.

“Dear, you know you’re allowed to have sex if you like them,” Mrs. Reynolds said. My head lay on her shoulder, I could hear her heart beat through my left ear, quick, loud, while my right arm lay across her belly, which moved up and down with her deep breaths.

“Not on the first date,” I said. Everyone knew that. You had to wait for the fourth, or fifth, or tenth, as Stacy at school claims, though I know for a fact that she had sex with her boyfriend on the seventh date.

“You can have sex whenever you both agree. There’s no magic time,” Mrs. Reynolds said, in almost a purr. My body sweated next to her under the comforter while the cold air caused goosebumps on the back of my neck. She smelled of alcohol, onions, and jasmine, as her minty alcohol breath tickled my forehead.

“No, sex is special. You need to wait and make it special. Especially your first time, it needs to be extra special,” I said, because everyone knew that, but Mrs. Reynolds likely forgot. Then the image of her on all fours, Dad behind, her husband in front, Mom on the couch with a stranger’s dick, blossomed in my mind. The ambulance attendant appeared to the right of Mom, naked, with abs, a broad chest, and defined shoulders, with a big penis, like the one from that porno, while the female attendant rested her hand on the guy’s hip, the one Mom sucked. Naked, she had small, firm breasts, defined abs and shoulders, and the biggest, bestest smile ever. Her white teeth gleamed in the room lights.

“Dear, sex’s a skill, something to learn, something to enjoy, something to connect people,” Mrs. Reynolds said. Her body felt too hot and I worried that she might have a fever, which would explain her comment. Because everyone knew, that, sure, people can have fun at sex, and it does connect people, via babies, but something to learn, like I don’t think so. Everyone knows how to have sex. Not hard, or rather, his hard thing goes into my soft fold, and well, it just happens.

“Babies,” I said, then released what I said. Her children had died. Her husband had died.

“Yes, babies,” she mumbled. I couldn’t see the tears, but I could feel how her body tensed up, how her breath hitched, paused, and grew shallow. I needed to change the topic, get her out of the memory of her family. My mind raced, groped for something, anything to change the subject, but I could only think about sex, about Dad’s dick from the movie, and the ambulance attendant’s dick, which I hadn’t seen, but I assumed would look like the porn models. I knew it would hurt the first time, but how do I say that? I couldn’t, and didn’t.