Chapter 5

The ride to the area of Brooklyn called Canarsie was short, and when we got there it looked familiar. I had an aunt and uncle who lived in an apartment building in Canarsie. My grandmother lived with them so we visited often. On Sundays. I just never knew that part of Brooklyn was called Canarsie and never heard of Canarsie Pier. But how bad could it be? It was where my grandmother lived.

When we got to the pier, I saw a few cars parked. At least we wouldn’t be the only ones there. The pier was mostly dark. There were a few lights on wooden poles, but none of the cars were parked under them. And even though it was dark, Joey turned off his headlights and switched to his parking lights as he drove slowly to a vacant area that also was not under a light. He turned off the parking lights and then the car.

Joey swept his hand, palm up, over the dashboard near the inside of the windshield. “This is Canarsie Pier. Can you hear the water?”

I listened more closely and could hear the small waves crashing on the wood pilings that held up the pier.

“Yeah, it’s peaceful,” I said.

“You really can’t see the pier or water at night, but you can hear the water. And unlike where all the buildings are, you can see stars.”

I leaned forward to gaze through the windshield. Joey was right. The sky twinkled with thousands of stars. Something we didn’t see in most places in Brooklyn because of all the lights. That’s probably why Joey and the other cars parked in dark areas away from the light posts. To see the stars.

Joey slid toward me on the bench seat so that we were close, almost touching. I guessed it was more comfortable not to be cramped behind the steering wheel. He stretched his right arm out over the back of the seat, behind my head.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Joey asked.

I leaned forward again to peer through the windshield. “I love the stars.”

When I leaned back, Joey’s arm had slid down from the top of the seat and was now around my shoulders like in the theater. So, like in the theater, I laid my head on his shoulder. His body was warm. It was relaxing.

“Can you see the face in the moon?” he asked.

It wasn’t a full moon. Maybe three quarters. “I don’t see a face.”

Joey pointed through the windshield with his left hand. His other hand was on my shoulder and, when he pointed, he pulled me tighter to his body.

“See, there are the eyes and the nose,” he said while pointing.

I didn’t see eyes or a nose. But I couldn’t concentrate on the moon. Being held like that and being so close to a boy warmed my body. Made it tingle. Joey kept talking and pointing, but I didn’t hear any of it. My breathing deepened. I was nervous with him holding me like that, but afraid he would let me go. I wanted to be held by a boy. It felt good.

“ ... cheese?” Joey asked.

I only caught the last word. “What?”

“Do you think the moon is made of cheese?”

“Of course not.”

Joey placed the finger he had been pointing with under my chin and tilted my head back. We stared into each other’s eyes.

“You are so pretty,” he said.

I felt my cheeks burn, but didn’t say anything. It was nice to hear. He leaned forward and placed his lips on mine. I couldn’t hold back the sigh that came through my parted lips. It was a kiss. No Milk Dud was involved. Just lips. My first real kiss.

His lips remained on mine. My eyes closed and I savored the feel. He pressed harder and his lips flattened mine, and then I felt his teeth behind his lips. After what seemed like an eternity, but was not nearly long enough, Joey pulled away from my mouth.

My eyes remained closed as I basked in the feeling before they fluttered open. He smiled at me, a smile that warmed my heart. The kiss was better than I could have dreamed it would be. I wanted more so I puckered my lips and grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips back on mine.

The second kiss lasted longer and this time Joey moved his head side to side, squishing my lips against my teeth. My heart pounded. My body tingled. Butterflies fluttered in my belly. I squeezed my thighs together.

I moaned.

Something poked my lips. Something soft. And wet.

With his lips brushing mine, Joey said, “Open your mouth.”

My lips parted and his tongue entered my mouth. As soon as it contacted my tongue, I flapped mine against it. I didn’t know why, I just did it. I had licked his fingers in the theater, and had even felt the tip of his tongue with mine, but now I was licking his tongue. I liked doing it.

Something inside me was let loose. Feelings I had suppressed or maybe simply hadn’t understood. It was another major milestone in my life. I attacked his tongue with mine. I moved my head. Our lips flattened. Our teeth scraped. Our noses bumped. Spittle dribbled down my chin. My arms flung around him and held him tight. My hips rocked with my thighs pressed together.

None of it was done with conscious thought. It just happened.

And then my mouth hung open. My tongue stopped moving. My breathing stopped. Joey’s hand was on my breast. Time froze. I froze. He squeezed. I should have objected. Pushed his hand away. Good girls didn’t let boys touch them there. But it was like turning on a light switch. My tongue went crazy against his. I grabbed the back of his shirt and held it in my fist. The more he squeezed my breast the more I responded.

That wet feeling in my panties was back. I rocked on the seat. My legs opened and closed. The itch between my legs was there. It wasn’t an itch. It tingled as if someone was tapping a live electrical wire on my pussy. Each jolt caused my hips to hump.

Joey’s hand left my breast for a moment. I felt an emptiness, a longing for it to return. And then his hand was underneath my top. On my belly. On my burning skin. His hand slid up onto my breast, now on the bra. I could feel his hand better. Less layers of clothing. And then his hand snaked underneath the bra onto my bare breast. No layers of clothing in the way. Skin on skin.

I panted inside his mouth. I moaned. Sighed. I had never felt anything like it. Joey squeezed my breast flesh, running his thumb along the side. It heated my skin. And then he pinched the nipple. I shrieked inside his mouth. And I felt a jolt between my legs. So strong I had to clamp my thighs together and bend forward, forcing me more into Joey than before.

Joey’s other hand, his right one, joined his left hand underneath my knit top and bra to cup my other breast. He squeezed both. Flicked both nipples with his thumbs. I didn’t think I could take any more.