Chapter 14: Dating

December 1969, age 14

My bad mood lasted the rest of the year. Thankfully none of the press overheard my rant at the cinema, or it really would have been a mess. The reviews of the film were not great, and personally, I was glad the history books said it would at least earn back its production costs. A commercial hit it was not.

My prolonged bad mood was the product of several things. First and foremost was the four-month dry spell without a blowjob to relieve my tension. Obviously, I wasn’t the only fourteen-year-old with that particular frustration, but I felt it nonetheless.

Second was the uncomfortable realisation that being rich and having future knowledge was not all plain sailing. In many ways it made me, my family and friends vulnerable.

And third was frustration over the business. Things were just moving far too slowly for my liking. It was over a year since we had bought land in Cambridge to build our research campus, but we had only just received planning permission, and wouldn’t be breaking ground until the spring. The theme park outside London was even worse. That land had also been bought more than a year ago, but the whole project was stuck in limbo because of planning objections. It was just really frustrating.

On Christmas Day I was saved from my mood by a good dose of Christmas spirit. By the time the new year came, I had sorted things out in my head enough to make some resolutions for 1970. The biggest one was that I was going to start dating properly. Scary!

Just before school resumed in January, I took the bull by the horns and telephoned Ellie King. We were at different schools and our paths only really crossed at birthday parties. Peter’s birthday was coming up, and I was sure I’d see Ellie there, but I didn’t want to try asking her out in front of her friends.

The call started off alright, with the usual ice-breaking small talk. Then I asked, “So, are you going out with anyone at the moment?” I at least managed not to stutter.

“No”, she answered. “Why, are you finally going to ask me out after two years of me dropping hints?”

Keep cool. Be confident. Take control. Oh hell...

“Well, I was. But I’m not sure pushy girls are my thing, even if they are as hot as you. Maybe I’ll try someone else.”

“Uch. Well, if you can’t stand up to a demanding girl then maybe you’re not man enough for me”, she hit back, playfully. “It’s a shame, after all that training I gave you with your head between my legs. I’ll just have to find a hunkier boy to train up instead.”

A shiver ran down my spine at the memory of our past encounters. “Well ... you make a good point. It would be a shame to let things go to waste. Maybe I’ll take a chance on you, but be warned: any more pushiness from you and I’ll spank you good and proper.” Oh my God, what did I just say?!

“Oooh”, she said in a rising sing-song cadence. “I might have to be naughty just to see if you’re man enough to follow through. So when and where swimmer boy?”

“I’ll pick you up at five on Saturday”, I told her. “Smart casual.” Then I just hung up without waiting for a reply.

Ellie was a wild girl who liked playing games with people. If I let her, she’d lead me through life by the dick, probably spending my entire inheritance along the way. That wasn’t what I wanted from a relationship. My experiences with her had so far been awesome, but I didn’t want to live life as her obedient puppy. I had to take control.

When Saturday came, I dressed in dark jeans, an open neck shirt and casual jacket. Smart enough to look respectable in a London restaurant, but still appropriately casual for a nearly fifteen-year-old.

I’d told Ewan what I had in mind, and he had agreed to low profile security as far as possible. We were doing dinner and a movie, so that meant Ewan would be within eyesight in the restaurant, and sat near the exit in the cinema. We were going into the west end, where parking was difficult, so we’d have a car with a separate driver.

I had never been to Ellie’s house before. It was a fairly average, large suburban home, typical for the nicer parts of Wimbledon. I was met at the door by Mr King, who was determined to read me the riot act. I had to try really hard not to laugh as he made a stream of threats should I fail to act in a gentlemanly manner and so on. Had he ever actually met his daughter?

When we eventually escaped, I didn’t have to make any half-hearted compliments about her looking pretty, or having nice shoes, or any number of other things that Dan had tried to program into me. Ellie was fucking hot, and I told her so. I also told her she was a bad girl for wearing a top that was deliberately intended to raise my pulse, and that I’d punish her accordingly later.

When we arrived in central London, we were dropped at the Piccadilly Circus end of the Leicester Square pedestrianised area and walked to the restaurant where we had reservations. We didn’t hold hands, but I did offer my arm, which she took.

Dinner was nice, and we talked about a whole variety of things, managing to steer well clear of anything vaguely sexual. I found out much more about her than I’d known previously, and I opened up a little about my early life, my parents, and moving to London. I steered well clear of talking about the business, and she didn’t push. It was actually a really nice, mature dinner with good food, great conversation and a view that wasn’t half bad.

After I had paid the extortionate bill, we headed across the square to the cinema. Before we went in, I decided to step things up a little. I whispered in her ear, “I dare you to go into the toilets, take off your underwear and bring it back for me”.

Her eyes bulged open, then she got a naughty smile and whispered back, “Only if you do the same”.

I’d predicted this, so let her into my little secret. “I’m not wearing any”, I said, waggling my eyebrows. That surprised her, and she couldn’t help but look down to inspect my groin. There was a damn good reason why I was wearing dark jeans: leakage wouldn’t show up like if I were wearing chinos. It only took her a moment to decide and then she scurried off to the ladies’. When she returned, she discretely slipped something into my jacket pocket, and I had to smile.

The film might have been good, or it might not. I haven’t the faintest recollection. My concentration was entirely upon the exploration our hands were doing. We were sat in the back corner in the most secluded spot possible and took full advantage of that fact. No, we didn’t leave the confines of our own seats or anything blatant like that, but once the lights went down, we both had wandering hands. It wasn’t hurried or frenetic, and never reached a peak, but it was certainly pleasurable.

After the film had ended Ellie expected to be heading home, but I had one final stop for the night. I led her from the theatre, again taking her arm, and walking northward through the bustling Saturday night streets of London. She pestered me non-stop to find out where we were going, but I didn’t give anything away. Our destination was a ten-minute walk away, but we could see it after half that time. Eventually, she worked it out, giving an excited squeak when she saw Spiderman lit up on the side of Marvel Tower. I knew that Ewan, following a few paces behind us, hated me walking through London like this. But it was worth it for that little moment of excited realisation from Ellie.

When we got to Marvel Tower, a security guard was waiting to let us in. Ellie had been here before for my thirteenth birthday party, but the penthouse had been an empty shell back then. It looked very different now, and when we stepped out of the lift onto the 34th floor, she sucked her breath in. They’d done a beautiful job on the place. The main living space was actually the upper level of the two-floor penthouse, opening onto the balcony that wrapped right around the building. It was open plan, with lots of marble, steel, glass and leather. It really was the height of opulence, styled well beyond the current 1970 trends. The bedrooms were the floor below.

Ewan had come up with us in the lift but then made himself scarce. Ellie and I made a brief visit out onto the balcony to take in London at night but then adjourned to the sofas.

Days earlier, when I had told Ewan my plans for this bit of the evening, he had looked worried. I’d feared he might turn chicken and run to Dan, but instead, he just asked: “Are you going to need me to get you some condoms?” I felt like hugging him right then but played it cool, telling him there was absolutely no way I was having sex with Ellie just yet. There were plenty of other things I hoped to do, but not full-on sex.

So when I got her to the sofa that night, I told her, “I believe I owe you a spanking”.

Her eyes lit up with the challenge. “Oh really. I don’t recall being pushy tonight.”

“Maybe not,” I told her, starting to take off my jacket and shirt, “but there is that boner-inducing top you’re wearing, and I also think you deserve some payback from strip revision last summer. All most un-ladylike behaviour.”