Chapter 52: Manipulation

February 24, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

Wednesday was a busy day, with work, class, and doing homework with Violet, but I’d had time to think about the situation, as well as what had happened to Paula. That was one nice thing about my current job — I didn’t have to use much brainpower to accomplish it. All it required was for me to work hard and follow Spurgeon Capital’s policies.

According to Allyson, who I’d called after returning from the meeting with Violet’s psychologist, Paula’s family planned a funeral in Boston, where they were living. Lucy was planning to go, as was Julianne, but not the rest of the girls. There was a brief memorial service being held on Thursday afternoon in the chapel at Loyola that all the girls were planning to attend, but I couldn’t really take the afternoon off on short notice.

I continued to wonder if it would have made any difference if I’d behaved differently at the two parties, and kept coming back to the fact that despite my choices, in the end, the ‘luck of the draw’ and the ‘roll of the die’ determined the outcome more than anything I had done. I couldn’t eliminate anyone, just protect one girl each round.

As for Violet, I had to figure out how to continue the relationship once our shared course ended. I liked her, and in a way, I felt responsible for her. It was similar to how I felt about Bev, though obviously for different reasons. That thought made me remember I had to think about my relationship with Bev after she had her baby.

With Violet, I could probably meet her once a week for coffee, similar to what I was doing with Anala, though if I were to have a steady girlfriend, I’d have to make sure she was OK with me having what looked like dates with two girls who were ‘just friends’. I wasn’t sure how that would work, or if it would even be possible. But that was a problem for a different day.

In fact, all the ‘problems’ could be put off until June, but then I’d have to have a solution for both Violet and Bev. The same was true of Bianca’s offer to share an apartment for three years. She’d given me a time limit to think about it, but in reality, the time limit was a bit sooner, as I felt that if we were going to live together, we should have a two-bedroom apartment so that there was enough room for the computer setup without crowding the bedroom. I wanted the living room to be free for entertaining, and if it were just me, I wouldn’t mind the computer taking up space in the bedroom.

I was intrigued by her offer, because I really liked her, the sex was awesome, and she’d given me what amounted to a pass to fool around with the girls from the party for three years. Of course, that would assume those girls were still interested once Bianca and I moved in together. I wondered if Bianca assumed that the other girls would drop out fairly quickly, and as I thought about it, I suspected that was the case.

My work and school day ended as it usually did, with Violet and I having coffee and working on our assignment before I walked her home. I arrived at my apartment about five minutes before Bianca and Shelly arrived, giving me just enough time to empty my bladder and put on the kettle to heat water for hot chocolate or tea.

“Hi!” Bianca exclaimed when I opened the door.

She greeted me with a soft kiss, and Shelly did the same. I let them in and shut the door.

“I have hot water for hot chocolate or tea,” I offered.

Both girls asked for hot chocolate, so I made three mugs and we sat down at the dinette table to drink.

“Have the police said anything new?” I asked.

“No,” Bianca replied. “But the guy’s attorney is insisting that he’s innocent and says tests on the semen will prove it.”

“That’s a pretty bold claim,” I replied. “But if it’s true, then what?”

“Then I think we all need to be afraid,” Shelly replied. “It would mean the rapist who murdered Paula is still out there.”

“It just seems unlikely to me, given the guy was wanted in Kentucky.”

“His attorney supposedly claimed it’s a case of mistaken identity,” Bianca said. “And you have to wonder about that because it wasn’t like he was trying to hide. He works at the Cubby Bear and is an electrician. I’m guessing he pays his taxes, so wouldn’t the government know where to find him?”

I shrugged, “I have no idea how that works between Kentucky, Illinois, and the federal government. Tax forms are supposed to be private, and limited to the IRS, but I’d guess he’s paying into Social Security and Medicare, so they’d know where he was. Now you’re making me wonder if they have the right guy.”

“That’s what Lucy said, too,” Bianca replied. “She pointed out that we sometimes hear about the cops arresting an innocent person with the same name as the actual criminal.”

“Does anyone know if the guy actually ever lived or worked in Kentucky?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Shelly said. “But he wouldn’t have to live there or work there to have committed a crime there.”

“True,” I admitted. “But it would raise more questions.”

“I hope it’s not mistaken identity,” Shelly said. “That would be scary for all of us.”

“We have security cameras at work,” I said. “Were there any in the parking garage?”

“Just one that films license plates as cars enter and leave, according to the detectives who spoke with Lucy again yesterday. They don’t show who was driving the car or who was in it, because they’re just there to be able to prove when someone challenges the cost of a lost ticket.”

“How much have they beefed up campus security?”

“They’re just strictly enforcing the rules that were already in place,” Bianca said. “Everyone in the administration thinks the police have the right guy in custody.”

“We heard from Allyson that you told her you don’t want to play any more games with the group,” Shelly said.

“I felt it was getting out of control,” I replied. “Mostly I was worried about Paula, which I guess isn’t a problem now. But I think it’s better to stop.”

“It doesn’t hurt that most of us want you again!” Bianca teased.

“And I’m not objecting to that!” I chuckled. “I’m just saying that I felt the games could become too extreme, and I was also concerned about the peer pressure that was being applied to Julianne.”

“For me, it was exhilarating to have everyone watch for my first time,” Shelly said. “And I know Bianca got off on it, too.”

“Yes, but that’s true for you two,” I replied. “It wasn’t for Julianne and I think she gave in to peer pressure. It turned out OK, but I think it could have gone horribly wrong.”

“You mean if she regretted it and was upset?” Shelly asked.

“Yes. It could have really hurt her emotionally. Fortunately, things worked out OK.”

“Well, she said, and I’m quoting here, ‘he can put his huge cock in my cunny anytime he wants’!”

“The compliment is accepted,” I chuckled.

Julianne wasn’t the only one to want that. I’d called Huifen, as I promised I would do, when I’d arrived home from work earlier and I was going to see her on Friday evening, as Allyson had a date.

“Speaking of that...” Bianca said with a twinkle in her eye.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked.

“Shelly and I will take turns sucking you and fucking you, then we’ll all sleep in your bed.”

I had zero objection to receiving two blowjobs and fucking two tight pussies, so I cleared away the mugs, and after I rinsed them, enjoyed the attention of two beautiful girls before falling asleep between them.

February 25, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

Thursday was very much like Monday and Wednesday, with the exception of Bianca and Shelly spending Wednesday night with me. Everything else was typical, and just after 8:00pm, Violet and I were sitting in the coffee shop.

“Are you taking a class over the Summer?” she asked after the waitress poured our coffee.

“No. I’ll take one starting in September. I haven’t made a final decision about what class, but most likely accounting.”

“I’ll sign up for the same one, if that’s OK with you.”

“If that works for your plans, that’s OK with me.”

“Can I see you over the Summer?”

“I think we can meet for coffee, if you want.”

“I do. Maybe we could do something else together sometime.”

“I’d like that,” I replied.

“Do you like baseball?”

“Yes. You haven’t seen me in my Reds cap because it’s Winter, and I’ve been wearing a wool cap.”

“They’re National League, right?”

“Yes. Comiskey Park is where the Sox play, and they’re American League, which is fine, though I know the National League teams better because they all played the Reds.”

“I’d prefer to go to Sox Park. Wrigley Field seems to be in a dangerous area.”

“You read about the Loyola student?” I asked carefully.

“Yes. I know we have crime in Bridgeport, but nothing like that! There are gangsters in Cicero, and gangs in the black neighborhoods, but mostly Bridgeport is home to cops, firefighters, and people like that.”

“Baseball starts in April, so we could try to get seats for a game if you wanted.”

“Sure. Let me stop by the ticket office at lunch tomorrow and see what’s available. Would a Sunday afternoon game be OK?”

“That sounds good,” I agreed.

“The seats will probably be in the high upper deck or outfield.”

“Anywhere we can see the field is fine!”

“So no ‘obstructed view’ where there might be a post in our line of sight.”

“I’d really rather not have that.”

“OK.”

“Do you live alone?” I asked.

“Yes. If my sister ever gets out of the hospital, she’ll come live with me. I had a nurse and social worker who visited me until December. Now, I’m managing my own life.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine,” I said, shaking my head.

“Trust me,” Violet said, “you don’t want to. Shall we work on our assignment?”

I nodded, and we began working. About forty minutes later we finished, and after I paid for our coffee, we left the coffee shop and I walked Violet home. When I walked into the driveway, I saw a figure sitting on the porch and knew instantly it had to be Mary Kealty. I walked up the steps, and she stood up.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” I said warily. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“Can I come in for five minutes?” she asked.

“I don’t think talking is going to change the situation with Rachel,” I replied as I unlocked the door. “But sure.”

I let her in and we both took off our Winter coats, hats, and gloves, and when I slipped off my shoes, she did the same thing.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“There is no way you’re that dense!” she declared.

“Dense?” I asked.

“You know exactly why I’m here,” she said.

Suddenly I realized that I was that dense, and knew exactly what she was implying. Well, probably more than implying.

“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, I recall you agreeing that it wasn’t a good idea.”

“Rachel is completely out of the picture, isn’t she?”

“Yes, but I don’t see how that changes things.”

“If you’re not going to get back together with her, or whatever, then her opinion no longer matters. Not to mention I’m not going to tell her and I’m positive you aren’t going to tell her. Remember my offer — ‘no-strings-attached’ sex, with a promise to never get in touch with you again, but saying you can call me if you want.”

“You asked that as a ‘what if’,” I countered.

“And you said the circumstances were different because I wasn’t in love with you. AND you mentioned testosterone, making it obvious that you were interested. I’m positive you are, in fact. And I’m interested, and I think you knew that because you pointed out I made the offer four times! And, I was telling the truth when I said that I’ve only been going to church to keep my mom happy, and I’m on the Pill.”

She began unbuttoning her blouse.

“Mary...” I protested.

She laughed and continued, “I promised to undress and ask you to have sex with me, so I’m going to do it. You can send me away after I’m naked if you want.”

“Do what you have to do,” I said, turning my back on her.

I heard the continued rustling of clothes and simply didn’t believe what was happening. I was tempted, not just to look, but to do what she’d asked, because she was absolutely the most beautiful, sexiest girl I’d met in my entire life. Even dressed conservatively, I could tell she had perfect curves, perfect hips, perfect legs, a nice swell under her blouse that suggested perfect breasts, as well as pouty lips that begged to be kissed and which would be very erotic wrapped around my member.

Of course, that was exactly what she wanted me to think about, and I felt the stirrings of an erection, and the testosterone she’d mentioned seemed to flood every inch of my brain. The rustling of clothes stopped, and all I could see in my mind’s eye was a naked girl, even though she was behind me, and I couldn’t actually see her.

“Jonathan,” she said. “Turn around.”

I shook my head, “That’s a bad idea.”

“You’d seriously refuse to look at the girl you said was the most beautiful girl you know?”

“We agreed it was a bad idea.”

“No, we both said that, but we both knew we wanted to do it.”

“Why?”

Mary laughed, “You? Because guys like sex, especially ‘no-strings-attached’ sex. Me? Because you’re tall, dark, and handsome, in great shape, and ALL of us were drooling over you, including Rebecca! She even said you could tempt her to cheat on Luke, for heaven’s sake! Elizabeth told me she wished she was three years older so she could have her way with you! But you were Rachel’s, or so we thought.”

“And you seriously just want to have sex and leave?”

“What? Girls can’t want sex just as much as guys?”

I heard soft footsteps, indicating Mary was moving, and I went to take a step forward to get closer to the wall so she couldn’t stand in front of me, but she grabbed my arm and tugged. I resisted, but knowing that she was naked put images into my mind that were beating down that resistance, and I knew that if I didn’t order her to get dressed and leave, what was going to happen.

I was about to do exactly that when I felt Mary’s hand on my side, and she quickly slid it to my chest and pressed her breasts into my back. I was doomed at that point, as I was almost instantly hard. I felt Mary’s other hand on my hip, and the last thought of resistance evaporated as her hand moved over the front of my jeans and her fingers traced along my rock-hard shaft.

“You want me, don’t you?” she whispered, as her fingers traced the front of my jeans.

I didn’t answer, and Mary slid her hand up and then inside the waist of my jeans. I felt her fingers on my skin as she pushed them inside my briefs. She ran her fingers along my shaft, then cupped it in her hand, driving away any chance of coherent thought. With my desire in complete control, there was only one possible outcome.

“Yes,” I replied hoarsely.

Mary’s response was to move her hands to undo my belt, unbutton my jeans, and draw down the zipper. She pushed her hand back into my briefs, and this time wrapped her hand around my shaft and stroked gently while planting soft kisses on my neck.

“Take me to bed,” she whispered urgently.

When I didn’t move, Mary released my almost painful erection, and moved her hands to the buttons on my light blue Oxford shirt. I didn’t protest, and she quickly unbuttoned the shirt, then pulled it from my shoulders and down off my arms. Next, she pulled my t-shirt up, I submissively raised my arms so she could pull the t-shirt over my head, then lowered them so she could pull it down and off.

Mary’s hands moved to my waist, and she pushed my jeans down to my knees, then slipped her hands into my briefs and carefully pulled them down. She used her hands to explore my shaft and sack, then moved a hand to my shoulder to gently encourage me to turn to face her. I didn’t resist, and what I saw was even better than I’d imagined.

Mary’s body was my idea of perfection — pouty lips which were shiny with lip gloss, firm breasts about the size of half grapefruits capped with pink nipples, a flat stomach, flared hips, a perfectly trimmed triangle of dark brown pubic hair, and shapely legs. She knelt down and helped me step out of my jeans and briefs, then took my hand and led me to the bed. Mary pulled down the comforter, then got into bed and beckoned me to join her. I climbed into bed next to her, and lay on my side, facing her.

“Take me,” she whispered in a demanding voice.

I had enough sense to slide my fingers through Mary’s pubic hair and discovered she was soaking wet, so I moved on top of her. She spread her legs wide, allowing me to settle between them, then moved her legs so her ankles rested on my upper thighs. I reached down, grasped my shaft, and rubbed it along her labia to coat it with her copious juices, then raised my hand so I could taste her. The flavor, like everything else, was perfect. Mary smiled and nodded, so I lowered my lips to her for a kiss.