Chapter 20: Existential Monologues

(each spoken at Joe’s house during the first visit there of Stuart and Carla)

Stuart

What does it feel like to be me? I think I know what it felt like from the beginning, forced out into the world, but that’s probably imagining or maybe a dream or maybe reverberations from the event. I didn’t want to be away from that soft shell, that embryonic bag keeping me warm and fed. My mother told me it worried her that I didn’t make a nuisance of myself in her belly, didn’t do a lot of kicking, so I obviously liked it there in those confines. The nurse told her I made more of a nuisance screaming when sent into this cold world.

I at least found her feeding nozzle outside the womb quicker than most.

But I just never felt comfortable, and the more my brain developed the worse it got.

And my brain developed quicker than most, receiving information and synthesizing it at an accelerated rate and I just wanted to be left alone to synthesize it. Words never bothered me, nor did the thoughts I learned they contained. But people, their flesh and heat and smell and their seeming desire to press against me or be near enough to threaten to press, did bother me. I wanted to be left alone, to listen yes, to learn, but not to be touched. It bothered me, but it also scared me, especially if there were more than one body threatening me. And if there were many bodies all seeming to give me more words to synthesize, it could get to be too much too quickly, not so much too much information, but too diverse to process all at once. So I complained. I wailed. I had tantrums. My folks figured out what was wrong with me.

So it became about tutoring. They found a polymath I think similar to me, another idiot savant except with some diversity in his savantness.

I grew up in a nice suburban house, my parents both successful in their jobs, my father a CFO of a corporation and my mother a state prosecutor who eventually became a judge. They were too busy to have any more children than me, and maybe it was a blessing to them that I required hiring singular help, a nanny who learned to keep her distance and the tutor, so the raising could be left to others. I don’t think I sucked my mother’s tit once after she left the hospital with me. Neither were the nurturing kind which was fine with me.

But the house did have a nice back yard. And a cute neighbor girl found me lost in thought at five sitting dazed on the lawn and joined me. I think because you were shy you kept your distance, which was a blessing of course. And we had this dialogue, two five year olds, one disturbingly precocious and the other normal, or more normal I should say because Carla’s always been a bright girl. From you I learned what preoccupied an intelligent but essentially normal child and it fascinated me. You became my only friend.

Until you had me meet Angela, my angel, a year later, Angela having just moved into the area. Angela wasn’t shy, and in fact quite gregarious, and I found delight in that. She pushed me to get out of my shell a bit, experiments that failed at a birthday party but succeeded at a swimming pool where she taught me to swim, and somehow I could ignore the chaotic activities of other children, just concentrating on her and her instructions. And there were other advances because of her. The three of us went to shows at the observatory and to the aquarium. She socialized me, mostly because I could be attentive to her and to you, Carla.

At twelve I attempted school, my folks insisting I test out to wherever I would belong which ended up being a senior, or really graduating altogether, but I wanted to try nevertheless, figuring I’d at least have to attend college. I got placed as a junior. Ridiculous right? This little twerp amongst supposedly much more grown up people. But of course they weren’t, just kids with a mean streak. I kept separate as much as I could, of course being a freak anyway the separation was innate, and experienced hell on earth. Not just bullies, or I should say they all seemed like bullies, always a threat with their bigger bodies and their incessant words. It helped that they let me eat in the teacher’s lounge, even if that made me more separate and special. And homeroom, I stayed in the library.

Of course I took advanced placement classes, and I admit all but Current Events didn’t seem all that advanced to me. For gym they let me use the workout room for the team sports, observed by one of the coaches.

Anyway, because of the advanced placement I could meet nerds, but even they were careful befriending me, not that I was wanting their friendship, because they apparently had some smart jocks there, the BMOC one of them and calling the shots. I guess me fucking up the curve was a problem.

But I also met my second angel, Linda, lovely in Spanish, yes? And she was, not Spanish, but lovely. She was a bit wild, sporting all sorts of colors in her blonde hair, and I imagine if she’d been allowed she’d have had tattoos all over her body and tons of piercings like Carla. But she was a bit too young for that.

She was a gorgeous, brilliant nerd. Somehow she convinced the powers that be to share homeroom with me in the library, with my approval of course. My nascent hormones went crazy in her presence. She was built, somewhat like you, Sue, even at her age, full breasts and a sexy ass which she covered fairly tightly, and I swear whatever bra she wore must have been of the lightest weave because I’d notice many times her nipples pressing out the fabric. “Eyes up here,” she’d often giggle, though looking at her face was never a chore. I imagine she saw my blush every time. She kept me horny but sane, and perhaps her beauty protected me from the several bullies, or it might have been her cutting wit.

I once asked her why she never seemed to have a boyfriend and she told me she preferred them older and female, but maybe seeing my disappointment, she amended that she wasn’t completely immune to the charm of young men, or maybe one in particular. Her smirk promoted the idea she was kidding. She wasn’t.

I invited her home not long after, soon joined as expected by my best friends. They greeted her with curiosity and respect because of how unique the situation was. They’d heard about her, and I even confessed I had a bit of a crush.

“I love your hair,” I remember you telling Linda, Carla. I think it was a combination pink and chartreuse at that time. Instant crush! All three of us on the cusp of adolescence had hormones beginning to brew.

Having a car, Linda jumped up and told us she had the perfect place to go. We followed her like obeisant ducklings to her mother duck, at least two sets of eyes focused on her ass. I learned later Angie was a bit jealous already of Linda, overmatched by the older girl’s enthusiasm and of course my attention to her.

She drove us to this beauty shop where she got her spray on hair colors. Neither Angie nor I were all that interested, but you certainly were Carla, so we entertained ourselves with an array of wigs, which was actually fun.

You became a mini Linda if I recall, having your own adventure with spray coloring as well as jewelry where we headed next and you and Angie both got pierced ears, studs and for you more dangly things.

When we got home, my house deserted so always the choice, by then my folks trusted me on my own, Linda showed us her surprise, henna tattoos, and we all adorned our flesh with them.

Linda visited us several times during the school year, Angie eventually warming to her I think because you and Linda would go off together in my bedroom and Angie had more time with me. You were just thirteen by then, and I guess sex was involved and maybe it should have bothered me, Linda being three years older, but mostly I envied you. You both tended to look flushed after but neither of you spoke about it, and either I didn’t want to know or thought it was up to you if you wanted to keep things a secret.

It wasn’t until the end of school that one of the great bruises of my life happened, Linda’s family moving. She’d hinted at it, pushing me to look at college, Johns Hopkins specifically, earlier in the year, and when I told her she’d be there helping me cope, she insisted I do it for myself and not worry about her. With my folks basically in agreement, I went to the school’s administration building and began the dialogue that would eventually get me enrolled there.

She came over the Monday after classes had ended, fairly early in the morning, and when I answered the door she stood teary-eyed and nervous, neither things I’d ever seen in her.

I asked her what happened, and after assuring her we were alone she had us talk in my bedroom. She confessed her family was leaving in a few days. I couldn’t help being angry, asking her how long she’d known, and she confessed since January, making me realize it coincided with her insisting I check out Johns Hopkins.

It made me realize somehow she must love me, not wanting me to worry. My hugging her surprised her, but she recovered and it became our first kiss. Our second came with instructions since it had been the first for me. My penis getting hard worried me, but her body pushed against it showing the opposite of disgust or rejection. She coaxed me to sit on the bed, then knelt and took off my pajama bottoms, all I wore, and my cock popped out. “I always wanted to check it out, what a thirteen year old sported, as big as any my age,” she explained, taking it in hand and fisting it. It didn’t take long for me to cum, which she captured in my pajamas, at least some of it. She wiped the rest from her cheek.

“How do you know that?” I asked her.

“I like watching men spurt. I’m a bit of a slut by reputation, but just hand jobs. I’ve only given blow jobs to one boy, a senior when I was a sophomore, and he took my cherry too. He wasn’t much bigger than you, maybe a little smaller actually.” She continued rubbing me like my penis contained a genie or something, gently at first until I got hard again rather quickly. “He was gentle and smart like you,” she continued, “Well not nearly as smart. I thought we were in love, and maybe he was with me, but he ended up suddenly with this other girl, a friend of his and I thought mine, and just like that, no explanations, avoiding me, we were done. I thought if he could do that, how could I trust any man, so I started giving handjobs to jocks, my reputation sort of a weird revenge, and discovered I liked it. But it made me prefer girls if anything like love was involved. But I’ve kept that a secret except for you and of course your best friends.”

I asked her if that was why the jocks didn’t bother me once I’d gone under her wing, and her nod ended up engulfing my penis. A second cum came soon enough and she swallowed it. After that it was all about instructions, the first being, after she insisted I kiss her, that I should have warned her, the second to always offer a kiss to the girl after she blows me. Instructions on cunnilingus which lasted a while, and then intercourse which I very much enjoyed, several positions and several orgasms, for her too thankfully, and since she was on the pill, enjoyed without cover with her insisting it always be with.

We spent the day in bed, showered together, and she left, never to be seen again. You told me she said goodbye to you too.

After going to heaven for a day, aside from a brief experiment with college boys, I had no sex except masturbating, with Linda featured in my thoughts, eventually becoming Angie when we started making out years later. When it got to the main event with her, I had never let on that Linda and I had gotten together, but it must have been obvious when I still remembered my lessons, but she forgave me and thanked Linda at least between us two, and we spent at least a couple days, three nights actually, just fucking like bunnies interrupted by making love.