Chapter 65: S&M

November 3, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

Liz, Suzanne, and Becky hadn't been crazy, but the three of them did their best to wear me out, and I had thoroughly enjoyed the three hours we spent in the attic room. After a quick shower, I headed back to the condo, where Violet was waiting for me. She greeted me, and we went up to my room, where I laughed because Misty was sprawled out completely on the bed, taking up far more space than I could have imagined, given her size.

"How does she do that?" I asked.

"What?" Violet tittered. "Spread her legs?"

I simply shook my head and carefully shooed Misty from the bed. She gave me a look, then hopped off he bed and climbed onto the loveseat.

"Do you have any energy, or should we wait until morning?" Violet asked as we began to undress.

"I know what you said, but..."

"Oh, stop!" Violet commanded. "What did I tell you on the plane before our first time?"

"That you knew I was going to fuck other girls, and you promised not to complain or try to interfere, so long as you got to fuck me, too."

"Yes. And we'll work out the ground rules in January. I'm absolutely sure that's the right thing to do, given you don't seem to listen to what I actually say!"

"It's not that," I replied. "It's ... never mind. I'm being an idiot."

"Yes, you are! You may be the whizziest whiz kid at Spurgeon, but you can be pretty clueless otherwise."

"I promise not to bring it up again until January if you promise to tell me if I'm doing something that bothers you."

"Besides being an idiot?" Violet asked with a smirk.

"Yes."

"I promise. Now, get into bed and fuck me, please."

November 4, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

On Sunday morning, Violet and I left the condo at 9:30am so we could head to Soldier Field to meet Jack and Kristy for the Bears game against the Los Angeles Raiders. I still occasionally referred to them as Oakland, despite this being their third season in LA. While we were at the stadium, Bianca and Nicole were hosting our usual Sunday football gathering, something they'd decided to do despite my absence.

Jack and Kristy were waiting for us near the gate. The four of us entered together, and an usher directed us to our seats, which were excellent and right on the 50-yard line, offering a great view of the field. In the future, I'd be able to get eight tickets per game, but today, the other four seats were occupied by Norman Monroe, his wife, his son, and Missy. I greeted them, then took my seat.

I realized I had miscalculated, because being seen with Violet on the weekend at the Bears game would imply I was 'hitting that', as Murray Matheson had said. It was too late to do anything about it, so all I could do was enjoy the game and deal with the office gossip when it inevitably arose. Missy smiled and winked, but didn't say anything other than 'hello'.

It was a good game for the Bears, with Walter Payton scoring a pair of touchdowns, one each in the first two quarters, on 18-yard and 8-yard runs. The Raiders scored a pair of field goals, one each in the second and third quarters, with Bob Thomas kicking a field goal in the fourth quarter to bring the final score to 17–6. The Bears improved to 7–3, matching the Raiders, who were also 7–3, with both teams having an excellent shot at making the playoffs simply by winning half their remaining games.

Following the game, I escorted Violet home by the L, then used the L to return to the condo. I wasn't surprised that a number of our guests were still there, and after spending some time with them, I went upstairs to read for my English class. We were down to about six weeks to go, and I was very much looking forward to having my Monday and Wednesday evenings free. The downside of that was how it would affect my routine with Violet, but that was a solvable problem.

I spent about three hours reading The Catcher in the Rye, and making notes for the paper I needed to submit in two weeks. I was ahead of schedule, but I preferred that to trying to finish things just before the deadline. Happy with my progress, I returned downstairs to get a snack and sat with my housemates to watch TV. Just before bedtime, I flipped to CNN and saw that the Sandinista Front was projected to win the Nicaraguan general elections.

Bigger news was that violence in India was escalating following the assassination of Indira Gandhi. The situation in India was actually more concerning than a socialist government in Nicaragua, given the relative importance of the two countries. Reports indicated thousands of deaths, with some reports putting the death toll at over 12,000. However, the most credible sources were 'only' around 4000, with the government pushing much smaller, albeit implausible, numbers given eyewitness and video evidence.

Either way, the situation could have a significant impact on textiles, not to mention opening the way for a radically Hindu nationalist government replacing the Indian National Congress, which was a big-tent party, considered to be centrist. Another concern was how China might react to instability, given its border disputes with India. Given the situation, I decided to arrive at the office even earlier than usual to ensure I had sufficient time to verify the information for the analyst report.

"Can I come with you?" Chelsea asked when I announced I was going to bed.

"Yes," I replied.

We went up to my room with Misty padding behind us, and about five minutes later, we were in bed.

"I've thought about what we discussed on Thursday morning," Chelsea said, snuggling close. "What do you do when what you want can't happen?"

"The simple answer is to do something else, but I suspect that's an unsatisfying answer. What is it you want?"

"You know," she said quietly.

"It's better if you say it so we don't have any misunderstandings."

She gave the exact answer I was expecting.

"To marry you and have four or five kids," she said. "But you said that's not possible."

"We need to have a deep, adult conversation, and it might be upsetting," I said. "Are you ready for that?"

"I don't know," she replied tentatively. "I can try."

"I wonder if you're confusing sex and love," I said.

"I, uhm, decided to go to bed with you because I was in love with you," she said.

"Then let me adjust my question — I wonder if you confused lust and love."

"What do you mean?"

"That you wanted to have sex with me so badly that you convinced yourself you were in love with me to justify it in your mind."

"I do love you," she said.

"Have you been in love before?"

"No," Chelsea replied.

"Have you ever wanted to go to bed with someone before?"

"No."

"Would you go to bed with someone you didn't love?"

"No. I should have been married, and ... well ... no, uhm, never mind."

"Please say what you're thinking," I said."

"It was a sin," she said quietly.

"I have to ask what you're doing lying naked in my bed, planning to fuck, if you think it's sinful?"

"I don't know," she sighed. "I'm confused."

"Besides wondering what you should do if you couldn't have what you want, did you come up with any answers?"

"Not really."

"If your goal is to marry and have kids, your first step has to be meeting a guy, which you won't do if you don't go out."

"But where?"

"I may regret saying this, but you did say you were going to go to a new church. You could meet someone there."

"But ... well, I'm not pure."

"Only a moron would reject you because you're not a virgin, but given what I think about the kind of people who believe that nonsense, I'm positive they're mostly morons. I'd say you agree, given you didn't find a single, solitary guy who interested you. If church is out, then you need to go to clubs or bars or get involved in some other activity where you can meet people."

"I don't drink."

"All I can say to that is Jesus turned water into wine, and if the guy who started your religion drank, I'm missing the point."

"It's ... no, you'll say it's dumb."

"What?" I asked, knowing what she was going to say because we'd had the conversation before.

"It wasn't alcoholic."

"Oh, hogwash!" I exclaimed. "Remember, I know the story well enough that they asked him why he saved the 'good stuff' until everyone was drunk! I'm retracting my suggestion that you go to church. Don't, because it'll just rot your brain even further. Maybe take a class or model or act or something like that?"

"Can we discuss this in a few days?"

"Yes."

"Will you fuck me?"

"If that's what you want, yes."

"And finish in my mouth?"

"Yes."

"And French kiss me?"

"Yes."

November 5, 1984, Chicago, Illinois

On Monday morning, Chelsea was quiet while we showered and ate breakfast, and other than saying 'good morning' and 'goodbye', nothing was said. When I arrived in the office, I spoke with Rich, completed my usual morning routine, and went to my desk to begin a detailed analysis of what was happening in India. When Tony arrived, I called him in.

"I have an idea for how we can improve our impact," I said. "I'd like to generate detailed country reports on the UK, Canada, France, Germany, Japan, China, the USSR, and India. We'd update them quarterly, or if there was a significant event."