Chapter 29

“Thus I reserve the right to be hypocritical on this particular topic.”
—G.S. Jennsen, Requiem

THE TRIP HOME from the party had its own surprises. I sat in the back seat on the way to Beca’s house. We were all saying goodnight and how much we had enjoyed the party.

“Jacob, walk our date to the door,” Rachel said. “I’ll keep the car running and warm.” I hopped out of the car. Of course, that was the gentlemanly thing to do. I just hadn’t thought of it since I was in the back seat and had to crawl over the front to get out. It was pretty cold, so I was glad Rachel was keeping the car warm. It made sense, right? Except we both knew Beca preferred girls and it would have made more sense for Rachel to walk her to the door than me. There are some things that having lived a long life still doesn’t prepare you for.

“Um ... You can kiss me goodnight, Jacob,” Beca said.

“Really? But, like, you don’t like boys.”

“We both kissed everyone else at the party except each other. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by all the sexual energy and feeling bad that I didn’t give my best friend a kiss. Please?”

“Um ... yes.” I kissed her. I intended just a little light peck on the lips but Beca had other ideas. She opened a very sweet mouth and pressed her tongue into mine. I met it. Of course. I’m a guy. Eighty or fifteen. I respond to things like that. I responded to Beca. I was shocked still, though, when she pulled my hand inside her coat to her breast. It was ... not quite a handful. I mean, a nice puff on her chest capped by a very hard little nipple that I could feel right through her lightweight bra and blouse. “Beca?” I gasped as I reflexively squeezed her little nubbin between my fingers. She Frenched me a little deeper and then pulled away.

“Now you’ve felt the breasts of all four of your girlfriends so you should be able to tell us apart in the dark, right?” she giggled. “Don’t expect to repeat that, Jacob. You’re right. I prefer girls. But after that party and all the teasing ... Well, it’s a good thing I don’t own a dog! ‘Night!” She gave me another little peck on the cheek and went inside. I stumbled back to the car and Rachel drove me home.

Parking in the driveway with Rachel was something completely different. She leaned over the console and pulled me to her to kiss. One touch of her lips and I was a goner.

I guess I’d always had a thing for redheads and green eyes. Rachel’s hair wasn’t that orange ginger color, but more like a dark mahogany. Her eyes were the deepest and most lovely green I’d ever seen. I couldn’t see that in the dark of the car at nearly midnight. I’d memorized it when we were together on dates or just sitting across from each other at lunch. What I had to keep me occupied in the dark were the most sensual lips I’d ever tasted.

Making out over the console of a Toyota Yaris isn’t as bad as some bigger cars. The gearshift is pretty far forward and if you don’t have the parking brake set, nothing sticks up between the seats. The armrests even fold up out of the way. Rachel opened the door long enough to get her long legs out from beneath the steering wheel and onto the seat. She then leaned back into my arms and we started kissing.

The windows of the car started to fog over. Seriously. It was maybe twenty degrees outside and the fog we generated turned to frost on the inside of the windows. We unzipped our jackets, not so much to cool off as to give each other better access. As we kissed our hands explored each other.

I’d managed to get a hand wedged inside her dress against her bare breast, but her dress didn’t have an easy access route like Joan’s had. I sighed in frustration and reached around her to find her zipper.

“Don’t, Jacob. Not tonight. We only have five minutes. I promise, I’ll wear something more accessible next weekend to the dance. Believe me, I want to feel your hands on my breasts. Watching you suck Joan’s nipples made mine ache for your touch. Can you wait, lover?”

“I don’t know what it is about you, Rachel. I get so wound up I can’t think straight.”

“Thinking is the only thing that isn’t straight,” she giggled. “Kiss me again, Jacob. I’m your Valentine.”

We were lost in the kiss again until the alarm on my phone rang.

“Damn. I have to go in so I don’t get grounded before the dance next week.”

“Yeah. I’m good since I’m headed back to Joan’s. I don’t want anything to interfere with our time next week.”

“I’m seriously starting to fall for you, Rache. I mean, seriously.”

“We’ll see where it goes.”

I gave her one last kiss and opened my door.

“I sure hope Francie is available for you this weekend,” she called to me. “Izzy is going to get a workout!”

Well, that image was going to keep me hard all night.

As it turned out, Francie was available and horny when I called her Saturday morning. Pey had gone grocery shopping with Mom and Dad and they were stopping to get her new shoes. The imp’s feet were growing out faster than she was growing up.

Francie and I were in my bedroom and naked five minutes after Mom’s car pulled out of the driveway.

“What got into you Saturday?” Em asked when we finally had a few minutes alone in the car on the way to school Monday. “Francie said you didn’t even make it to her mouth before you were spurting.”

“The first time,” I said. “We got all the pieces put together in the right order and Francie got hers, too.”

“So? What’s up, brother?”

“Mmm. The party Friday night. My girlfriends teased me like you would not believe. I was ready to burst.”

“Didn’t the redhead—Rachel?—give you some relief? I’m not a loose slot but I try not to leave a date hanging if I’ve been teasing him.”

“We ... um ... haven’t gone that far yet.”

“Really? I mean, brother, three out of four of your girlfriends are hot enough to fry an egg on. And the fourth is terminally cute. I’ve half expected you to dump Francie any day. In fact, Francie has been expecting it. She was so thrilled you called Saturday.”

“That’s it, really,” I said. “I think Francie is feeling unsure of herself and a little fat.”

“A little? That girl had better hope the baby is nowhere near as big as her weight-gain would indicate.”

“But don’t you see? I would never leave Francie at a time like that. We both agreed that once the baby is born, she’d be way too sore and busy for a long time to even consider sex. And she’ll get in shape pretty quickly afterward. By the time she hits National Service, she won’t be having any problem attracting guys and getting just what she wants. No more, no less. But until the baby is born, she’s the only one I’m giving that kind of attention to,” I said.

“You know what, J? I think I just fell a little more in love with you.”

15 February 2019

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I really need to get a grip. I used to criticize teens for letting the little head rule the big head. Now I understand. I swore I wouldn’t go around lusting after teen girls. How disgusting! They are just children. I should know better and be able to control my responses.

I really like older women. Ms. L is still a top player in my fantasies. But older women look at me like I’m just a kid and, worse-yet, jailbait. So, my teen body, flooded by hormones, responds to the teen girls I see every day. Yesterday, Valentine’s Day, they all reprised their costumes from last weekend. Of course, Desi kept the jacket and longer skirt on, but just seeing the four of them and remembering what happened last weekend caused a response so strong I had to stop in the restroom on the way to Geometry.

Both Joan and Desi are like sex on a stick. I want to do the whole thing with them just because they are so sexy and so, apparently, willing. Then Rachel sits down beside me and places her hand on my thigh and my heart throbs. I’m so far past lust with her that I want to think about things like ‘forever’ and write stupid poetry.

And then there’s Beca. Fuck! She’s like my baby sister. I want to hold her and protect her from the world and rock her in a cradle. And I know, as fundamentally innocent as she is, she prefers girls. She’s not interested in me and I shouldn’t be interested in her. But seeing her in that schoolgirl uniform in the cafeteria yesterday and remembering the party ... One little wink from her and I was ready to throw it all to the wind.

Fuck! I need to get my grown-up head on and start thinking with it.

I paced around the house all Saturday afternoon. The girls had decided we didn’t need to spend time studying together this weekend. They all wanted to go out together and help Rachel get ready for our date tonight. Who was going to help me get ready? Well, no one.

All week, the girls had made a big thing about it being a Rachel and Jacob weekend. God! That sounds so biblical. But every day, the two of us sat together on one side of the table with Beca, Joan, and Desi sitting on the opposite side.

“Oh, God! You two are going to do it this weekend, aren’t you!” Desi burst out when Rachel and I kissed on Valentine’s Day. I started to protest and Rachel put a finger to my lips.

“You won’t know until Monday, will you,” she teased Desi.

“Oh. It’s so unfair. I don’t want to even go all the way yet. I just want to fuck him.”

“Girl, you need to look up some definitions in the Urban Dictionary,” Joan said. “How are you going to fuck him without going all the way?”

“I know,” Desi whined. “I know what I said. It’s just ... that’s the way I feel.”

“We’re going to go see that movie again tonight,” Beca said. “This time we’re going to watch the movie instead of you guys making out. Got it?”

“No,” Joan laughed. “Des and me are just gonna sandwich you instead of Jacob.” Beca blushed.

“Hey, what’s that piece you just played?” Em asked from my doorway. I had to stop and think about it. I’d just wandered into my bedroom and picked up the guitar. I sat on my bed with my back against the wall and started plucking out the notes without thinking. I was lost in the music.

“Um ... Chaconne in D-minor, I think,” I said. “Mostly I’ve just been working on scales and getting my fingers toughened up.”

“Go on. Play more.”

“I ... uh ... don’t remember where it goes from there. I just ... Em, did I really used to play like that?”

“Yeah. It was the only time you really looked at peace before the accident.”

“I ... How could I ever try to kill myself with such beauty in my fingers?”

“Don’t, J. It was just a bad dream. You would never try to kill yourself. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Em...”

“I brought you a new shirt to wear tonight,” she interrupted and held up a hanger.

“Wow! That’s beautiful,” I said, reaching to touch the fabric. It was some kind of red on red paisley brocade. “Is this silk?”

“No, it’s rayon. Feels silky, though, doesn’t it?”

“Fantastic. You got this for me?”

“Yeah. Your costume last weekend was kind of lame. This is a dance and there will be lots of girls looking over their dates’ shoulders at my little brother.”

“Well, I hope they keep their dates. I can’t handle any more. What are you wearing?”

“Gonna keep it simple. Little black dress with a wide red belt and red pumps.”

“Devastating.”