Chapter 69: Jefferson, Trotsky, and Spartacus

June 15, 2002, Rochester, Minnesota

🎤 Jesse

“We can, but Bill’s here, and I don’t want to be seen in the lobby or outside after curfew.”

“We can go to my room,” she said.

“Let me brush my teeth and use the john. What room?”

“311.”

“I’ll be up in less than ten minutes.”

“OK.”

She left, and I went to the bathroom, used the urinal, brushed my teeth, then went back to the room to drop off my bathroom kit. Not sure of what was going to happen, but wanting to be prepared, I took the box of three rubbers from my bag and put it in my pocket.

“Changed her mind?” Bill asked with a grin.

“She asked to talk, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but we both know what she meant!”

“Didn’t we just have this conversation?” I asked. “I don’t read anything more into it than she wants to talk. May I make a quick observation?”

“Yes.”

“You assumed you were going to get laid when you came back here with Krystal, right?”

“Yeah,” Bill admitted.

“How did that assumption work out for you?”

“I was frustrated despite the blowjob.”

“I won’t be frustrated if Scarlett and I sit up all night and talk because I expect nothing more than a conversation.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Bill replied.

“It does. I’ll be quiet when I come back to go to bed.”

“OK.”

I left our room, checked the hallway, and seeing nobody, I went up one flight of stairs. I checked the hallway, and seeing nobody, I walked quickly to room 311 and knocked softly. Scarlett opened the door right away and let me in, then closed it behind me.

“Nobody saw me,” I said.

Scarlett sat down on what I assumed was her bed, and to make sure I didn’t send the wrong message, I sat down on the other one, across from her.

“There’s no real problem,” she said. “Nobody will check, and nobody will do anything so long as you don’t miss a session or don’t perform at an appropriate level. They just want to set the rules in case there’s an actual problem with drinking, drugs, or underage girls.”

“Sixteen here, right?”

“Yes, but also a close-in-age exception that either eliminates or reduces the penalties.”

“Illinois doesn’t have that, so every single time I’ve had sex in Illinois, it has technically been illegal, even with girls my own age. Fortunately, they don’t prosecute in those circumstances, but they actually could.”

“Even with girls your own age? You’re implying you’ve been with older girls?”

“Older than seventeen? Yes.”

“Your first time was with a girl your age or older?”

“Much older,” I replied. “But I should leave it at that.”

And I probably shouldn’t have told Bill her exact age, now that I thought about it. It was so easy to engage in ‘locker-room’ talk, even when you made a concerted effort not to do so.

“More than five years?” Scarlett asked.

I debated answering, then decided I should, but also draw the line there.

“Yes, but that’s the last question I can answer because she could get into very serious trouble.”

“They pretty much only prosecute the guys,” Scarlett observed. “And how many teenage boys are going to complain about having sex with an older, experienced woman?”

“None I know of!” I declared emphatically.

“Was she your first?” Scarlett asked.

“I can’t play twenty-questions,” I said. “But I’ll answer this last question. Yes, my first time.”

“Why so cagey all of a sudden?”

“Would you want me, or any other guy, talking about what they did with you?”

“No.”

“That’s why. Talking about sex in general is not just OK, but important. Talking about specific people is almost always a bad idea.”

And I’d made that mistake on a few occasions.

“You know what sucks?” Scarlett asked.

Normally, I’d respond with innuendo, but I didn’t feel that was a good idea.

“What?” I asked.

“You’re going home next Saturday and I’ll probably never see you again.”

“Why do you think that?” I asked.

“Because you live in Chicago and I’m here in Rochester.”

“You have heard of this amazing invention called the airplane, right? You get in one and it takes you to any airport in the entire country in less than five hours. Well, not Hawaii, but basically anywhere else! There are also these newfangled things called buses and cars, and they can literally take you anywhere there’s a road, and some places without roads!”

Scarlett laughed, “You are such a goofball!”

“I am! But I could easily visit you or you could visit me. You’re almost twenty, so you can go wherever you want. My moms would be cool with you visiting me or me visiting you, and there are instant messages, texts, and phone calls, too.”

“You’re working awfully hard for it,” Scarlett said.

“To be your friend? Absolutely.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I realize; I corrected your error,” I replied.

“I dare you to deny you want to!”

“I never said I didn’t want to! I said I wasn’t trying to talk you into it.”

“Then what has this entire conversation been about?”

“Philosophy, friendship, and sexual ethics.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Scarlett asked.

“As a heart attack. And before you say the words I suspect are forming on your lips, no, I am not a normal guy.”

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” Scarlett said.

“And you probably never will again!” I replied with faux haughtiness. “There is only one of me!”

Scarlett laughed hard, then said, “I think that’s probably for the best! I’m not sure the world could handle two of you!”

“Seriously, though, just because I might want to do something doesn’t mean I should do it.”

“How did you figure out all this stuff?”

“By listening to my dad, my moms, my Aunt, my priest, and my godfather, and recently, the Hangouts I mentioned, where we discuss philosophy, ethics, morals, and politics.”

“And everyone is as intelligent and knowledgeable as you are?”

“Each in their own way,” I replied. “There’s no single standard for measuring intelligence, and there is nobody from whom I can’t learn something.”

“Me?”

“Why not? I’m sure there are things you know that I don’t know, and you probably have insights I don’t have.”

“And what would you teach me?” Scarlett asked.

I knew the answer she was fishing for, but I felt it was better to give what I considered a straight answer, though I could tease her a bit.

“How to think,” I said. “The answer you’re fishing for can be figured out by the dumbest jock and most airheaded cheerleader!”

“True,” Scarlett admitted. “But why not take the opening?”

“That comes later,” I grinned.

Scarlett laughed hard, then said, “See, THAT is the answer I expect from you.”

“In all seriousness, I gave the actual answer to the real question, but I did actually take the opening by responding the way I did. If you’re expecting me to ask you or make a move, you’ve totally missed everything we’ve talked about the past few days.”

“How so?”

“I’ve paid close attention to not just what you’ve said, but how you’ve said it and when you’ve said it. Remember the conversation about coming back to your room?”

“Yes.”

“Same thing twenty minutes ago — you asked me to talk. I made no assumptions at that point, and your trepidation makes me very, very cautious.”

“Did you swallow a dictionary?”

I smiled and shook my head, “No, but my parents never spoke ‘baby talk’ to me and always spoke to me as if I were an adult, so I have a very extensive oral repertoire!”

“I’ve never actually had that done,” Scarlett said quietly. “I always felt it was safer to keep my pants on, if you know what I mean.”

“I do. It’s very easy to be caught up in an Asia song!”

Scarlett looked at me quizzically, then a look of realization spread across her face.

“Heat of the Moment, right?”

“Yes.”

“Jesse, do you want to stay?” Scarlett asked quietly.

“That’s not the right question,” I replied gently. “The question is whether you want me to stay, and what you mean by that.”

“Why are you being difficult?” Scarlett asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

“Because you’re still unsure,” I replied.

Scarlett sighed, then sagged back against the pillows she’d been leaning on. That told me my assessment was correct — she wanted to, but she still had doubts. As I thought about it, I realized I might have created a set of conditions that it was impossible for Scarlett to fulfill, not because of her, but because of me. I wondered if my thinking was somehow flawed, not solely because I actually did want to spend the night with her, but also because I might have hurt her with my questioning.

As I analyzed everything I’d said and done, something dawned on me. Every single girl I’d been with had, in effect, been the aggressor. Not that I was blaming them or that I didn’t want it as least as much as they did, but going all the way back to April, it was the girls who took the lead. April had surprised me with the offer to ‘kiss’ which had led to a glorious fourteenth birthday.

Francesca and I had been on what Mom One called a ‘collision course’ from the day I met her in the park when we were babies, but she’d been the one to, in effect, demand we have sex. Cynthia and Libby had come to me, as had the «Filles du jour», the girls on the softball team, Macrina, and though I hadn’t done anything with her, Viktoria. I’d actually, as far as I could judge, not actively pursued a girl to have sex, or even asked her!

Scarlett was different, and I was, for all intents and purposes, imposing my view on how she should ask or behave on her in a situation which was very different from all my other encounters. The only one that might come close was Marta, and that thought actually pushed the pendulum of my thinking about Scarlett back the other way a bit. Ultimately, though, I had to decide if my concerns about Scarlett could override her decision.

It was a difficult problem, and one I hadn’t really encountered. With Marta, everything had seemed fine, though I had sensed a bit of nervousness, but nothing that gave me pause beforehand. But things had gone horribly wrong afterwards, and I had no clue what Marta was thinking because she’d simply stopped emailing and using IM with me. I’d probably see her in Sweden, because I was positive that Pia and her husband would come to Stockholm at some point while we were there, and maybe I could find out what the problem was.

But Scarlett was older, and in hindsight with regard to Marta, probably more mature. I’d assumed that Marta, being Swedish, was a typical Swedish girl, and as with anything like that, nobody actually conformed exactly to the ‘typical’ person. She had turned out not to be like Karin, Pia, Tina, Aunt Sofia, or the other Swedish women I knew.

“I owe you an apology,” I said.

Scarlett sat up and asked, “For what?”

“Creating what amounts to an impossible hurdle for you to cross, based solely on my judgment, my fears, and my concerns.”

“Fears?”

“There was a girl, and I can’t give any specifics, who I thought was ready to have sex but who turned out not to have been, and it messed up our relationship and I think it caused her emotional problems. It was totally consensual, but I’m pretty sure she had internal doubts but chose to do it anyway, and those doubts proved to be our undoing.”

“And you drew a parallel with me?”

“Yes. There’s another thing, too, and you’ll have to trust me on this because I can’t prove it, but all the girls I’ve been with except her, they’ve been the more aggressive, and even with her, she asked to spend the night with me. I haven’t actually pursued anyone for sex, including you.”

“You actually came up here just to talk?” she asked incredulously.

“I did,” I confirmed.

“Can I ask something you might not be able to answer?”

“Yes. If I can’t, I’ll say so.”

“Accepting what you said about the girls you’ve been with, how many have there been?”

I considered how to answer as I actually, without going back and thinking it through, couldn’t give an exact number. I also wasn’t sure I should reveal anything other than that I’d been with more than one girl, something Scarlett already knew from other things I’d said.

“Quite a few,” I replied. “I actually don’t know the exact number.”

“You don’t keep score? Wait! No, you wouldn’t, would you?”

“No. I mean, if I sat down and thought about it, I could name them all, for sure, but I don’t know the number off the top of my head, and it’s not important. I think the correct answer is what I said — quite a few. Is that a problem?”

“No,” Scarlett replied.

“One important thing, and it’s a controlling factor, is a recent STI test,” I said. “And unless your last partner had one, the test has to be after you were with them.”

“Believe it or not, I actually had one,” Scarlett said. “Right before school let out, four kids in the dorm tested positive for the clap, and the Health Department did contact tracing. I wasn’t on their list, but they strongly encouraged everyone who had engaged in any kind of sex to get tested. I’d been with two different guys during Freshman year, you know, oral, so I had a test. It was clean.”

“I believe you, but my dad’s rule is that I need to see the results. That’s the price of my freedom, if you will.”

“How could he possibly know?”

“I’m allowed to use my room,” I said.

“Seriously? Your parents know you have sex AND let you have girls in your room?”

“Including spending the night, if the girl can manage it. That’s happened a few times.”

“I feel as if I stepped into some kind of alternate universe,” Scarlett said.

“The Block/Clarke/Adams Reality Distortion field!”

“Which one is your dad’s name?”

“Adams,” I replied. “Four of my siblings have that last name. The other two are Clarke, after their mom, just as I have Mom One’s last name.”

“It really is like an alternate universe, but a good one, not a bad one, the way it’s usually portrayed in movies. I do have the paper in one of those boxes over there.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours!” I said with a silly smile.

Scarlett laughed, got up from the bed, rummaged in a box, and pulled out an envelope. She extracted the paper and handed it to me. It was, as she’d said, clean, so I handed it back, then took my wallet from my pocket and extracted my card, which I handed to her. She looked at it and handed it back.

“What do you want to do?” I asked.

Scarlett smiled, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours!”

I nodded, then kicked off my shoes, pulled my polo over my head, removed my belt, then my pants, socks, and finally my briefs. Scarlett looked me up and down, then quickly undressed, revealing her lithe, freckled figure with modest boobs, flared hips, a sexy toned butt, and neatly trimmed strawberry blonde pubic hair.

“Gorgeous,” I said.

Scarlett smiled, “You’re the first guy to see me completely naked since the doctor who delivered me.”

“It’s an honor and a privilege!”

Scarlett laughed softly, “You do know the right things to say!”

I reached down and picked up my khakis and got the box of rubbers, and put them on the table.

“I’m on the Pill,” Scarlett said. “I thought this would happen before now, but it just never seemed right.”

“And you’re sure it’s right?”

“Sure enough that I’m standing naked in front of a guy for the first time ever!”

“What we do is up to you,” I said.

Scarlett smirked, “I believe you have several boasts to prove!”

“I suppose I do!” I chuckled.

“How long does it take for you to recover?”

“Ten minutes or so, sometimes a bit longer, depending on how much I’ve already done, though encouragement shortens the refractory period.”

“The what?”

“Time between erections!”

“Then I think we should kiss, I’ll show you my oral skills, then you prove your ‘unmatched’ oral skills before you, assuming my surmise is correct, screw me silly several times.”

“The lady’s wish is my command!” I declared, holding out my arms.

Scarlett took two steps forward, then melted into my arms. We exchanged a pair of soft kisses, then she parted her lips and I gently touched my tongue to hers. As our tongues danced together, Scarlett squeezed her arms tighter around me, and I did the same, enjoying the feel of her body against mine. We kissed for a couple of minutes before Scarlett maneuvered me to sit on the bed. She knelt down, and I moved the pillows so I could lean back against them and watch.

Scarlett grasped my semi-flaccid shaft, then began licking my glans, running her tongue all around it. Scarlett’s tongue and lips felt awesome when she took me into her mouth, and it didn’t take long for me to be fully hard. She bobbed slowly and stroked gently while swirling her tongue and sucking, taking me about halfway into her mouth each time. Her technique was perfect, with just the right amount of sucking, licking, and stroking to make it last a long time. As I watched her, my pleasure built slowly towards what I knew was going to be a fantastic release.

After about ten minutes of slowly intensifying pleasure, Scarlett moved her free hand to cup my balls, and squeezed gently, causing me to groan. She bobbed twice more, squeezing gently each time she took me halfway into her mouth, then released me and looked up.

“I want you to cum in my mouth,” she said sexily.

She took me deep into her mouth and began bobbing, sucking, stroking, squeezing, and swirling her tongue with the obvious goal of making me cum. I felt the pressure build, then a twinge, and I couldn’t hold back. I groaned loudly as cum exploded from my dick, shooting into Scarlett’s soft mouth as she lashed me with her tongue and gently squeezed my balls. I felt as if the orgasm was going to last forever as I pulsed again and again, but eventually, the pulses subsided, though Scarlett didn’t stop for another two minutes, ensuring she had every last drop of cum and ensuring I had every bit of pleasure possible.

When she released me, she went to stand up, but I gently pulled her to my lap and we exchanged a searing French kiss while I gently cupped one of her firm boobs, running my thumb over her nipple. We kissed for a few minutes before I gently moved her onto the bed and onto her back, moving a pillow so she could rest her head. I kissed her softly, then lowered my head to her right boob and ran my tongue around her nipple before taking it into my mouth and sucking gently.

I spent several minutes suckling each of Scarlett’s nipples, then kissed my way down her breast bone, and over her flat stomach until my lips reached her mons. I nuzzled my nose in her soft pubic hair, and inhaled deeply of her musky scent. I always strove to please a girl, but this was Scarlett’s first time, and I had boasted about how good I was, and had to live up to the billing!

I began by kissing the inside of Scarlett’s soft thighs, then along her plump labia, before nuzzling my nose once again in her soft pubic hair. I kissed the inside of each thigh twice, planted six kisses along her slit, then gently ran my tongue along the outside of her labia, causing Scarlet to moan softly. I circled her labia once more, then ran the tip of my tongue between them, enjoying just a hint of her musky flavor.

I gently pushed my tongue between Scarlett’s plump labia and into her virgin tunnel, causing Scarlett to gasp and gently buck her hips. I swirled my tongue, coating it with her succulent juices, then gently flicked her clit with the tip of my tongue.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Scarlett panted.

Just as she’d taken her time sucking me, I was determined to slowly build Scarlett to her first orgasm from my tongue, and continue until she’d had at least three, and hopefully more. I used every bit of skill I had, paying close attention to what caused Scarlett to moan and pant, and slowly worked towards my goal. After a few minutes, Scarlett was panting hard and I could tell she was close, so I lashed her clit with my tongue while sucking a bit harder. I was rewarded with a loud groan and an upward thrust of her hips to increase the pressure. I slipped my hands under her butt and pulled her pussy to my face, continuing to tease her clit until she went limp.