Chapter 44: Destination, Deflowering, and Discussion

January 8, 1983, Chicago, Illinois

I left the law offices just after 11:00am, having spent about an hour with the two attorneys from Cincinnati. I was convinced, as was Nelson, that their goal was to develop information to interfere with Bev moving to Chicago. It made perfect sense, and as Nelson had said, they could have hired a private investigator to gather the information, so the fact that I'd said it was, in one way, immaterial. That fact aside, I still felt bad, but I didn't know if there was any way it could have been avoided, except if I hadn't moved into the house with Bianca and Shelly. The die had been cast the previous Spring.

There was literally nothing I could do now except fly to Cincinnati for the hearing, and that meant driving down to Hyde Park to the offices of Windy City Travel. I parked in the lot behind the building, and then walked around and went in the front door.

"Can I help you?" a young man sitting at a desk near the door asked.

"I'm here to pick up some tickets from Barney Evers," I said.

"Jonathan?" a black guy in his late thirties called out from an office. "Come in."

I walked past a few desks and into the office, shook Barney's proffered hand, then sat down.

"Nice to meet you," he said. "I have your tickets printed, and also an application for an American Express Card."

"Thanks. I'll pay by check."

"Great. I'll need to see your driver's license. Does the address on the license match the check?"

"It does."

I filled out the check, signed it, then handed it and my driver's license to Barney. He wrote down the number and expiration date of my license on the check, then handed me my license and the envelope containing the tickets and my itinerary.

"Protect these like cash," he said. "Airline tickets are considered negotiable instruments."

"That's not something that was covered in any of my securities classes."

"I don't think it means the same thing as 'negotiable security'. Basically, you can get your money back, or, if your flight is cancelled, use the ticket on another airline. In the past, you could resell it, but with every airline now checking ID, that no longer works. Do you have a passport?"

"No."

"I'd suggest applying for one immediately. They're good for ten years, and that way, you have it if you need it at a moment's notice. You can use your driver's license to go to Canada and northern Mexico, and a few islands in the Caribbean, but otherwise, you need a passport. They aren't expensive to obtain, but it can take as long as six to eight weeks, so I recommend all my customers have one. It also serves as a second piece of photo identification, should you ever need it."

"How do I do that?"

"Go to a photographer who offers 'passport photos', then take those photos to the Passport Office in Chicago and fill out an application. There are a couple of photographers less than a block from that office, which is on Congress Parkway. You'll also need your birth certificate."

"OK. Any other advice?"

"Do you know the process at the airport?" Barney asked.

"No," I admitted. "I've never flown before."

"You go to the departure hall at Midway, present your ticket booklet, check any bags, and receive a boarding pass and luggage check receipts, if necessary. They'll tear out the ticket for the leg of the journey and return the rest to you. Once you've completed that, you go through security where they'll x-ray your carry-on bag and have you remove any metal from your pockets. Then you walk through a metal detector, and if it pings, they'll use a wand to find the spot, which can be a large belt buckle or something similar. It's also possible they'll frisk you. You can refuse, but then you'll be denied access to the gate area and won't be able to board the flight.

"From there, you find your gate, have a seat, and when the flight is called, check in with the gate agent, who is an airline employee, often a steward or stewardess. Follow their directions, board the plane, find your seat, stow your bag, and listen to the crew for instructions. Once you arrive in Cincinnati, you leave the plane, walk through the concourse to the arrivals hall and meet your party, then collect any checked baggage. They can also come to the gate if they're willing to go through security. For your return flight, just repeat the process."

"Got it. Thanks."

"Do you have any fears about flying?"

"Should I?" I asked.

"Some people do, and you can't always predict who. How long have you been in Chicago?"

"Since May 1981. Why?"

"Then you weren't living here when the accident occurred at O'Hare. That caused quite a bit of fear."

"I remember seeing that on the Cincinnati TV news. That was 1979, right?"

"May 25th. I had booked several people onto that flight."

"No survivors, right?"

"None. They lost an engine on takeoff and crashed into a field just off the airport. A super-rare occurrence. Most people won't ever even have a minor problem on a flight."

"My dad was killed in a plane crash in 1962."

He glanced down at his paperwork, "Before you were born."

"Yes. He was on Continental Airlines Flight 11 from Chicago. It was blown up by a crazy with a bomb."

"I know about that, but I only started working here in 1968. The owner of this agency had booked someone on that flight."

"Maybe I should find a different travel agency," I said with a slight smile.

"Of the millions of miles flown by our passengers, those were the only two flights with reported injuries, let alone fatalities. And that's tens of thousands of flights. Airline travel is safer than your drive back to Rogers Park."

"I was joking," I replied. "The way I see it, everything has risks, you calculate the risk, decide if you want to take it, then do the thing or don't do the thing."

"Up and coming stock broker, right?"

"Most likely I'll focus on currency trading to start, along with related products such as precious metals and gold stocks, but I'm licensed for all securities."

"Somebody gave you a leg up the way the owner of this agency gave me in 1968."

"Somehow, if I know my history, the owner here took the far bigger risk."

"Hiring a black nineteen-year-old who had only ever bussed tables and washed dishes at a diner was pretty gutsy, especially given all the stuff that went down in 1968."

"Assassinations, right? And riots?"

"Doctor King and Robert F. Kennedy, plus the Democratic National Convention. Throw in the resulting riots, and white folks were even less interested in hiring black folks for anything other than manual labor."

"Crazy times."

"Yes, they were. Thankfully, things are better, and Chicago is likely to elect a black mayor, which in 1968 would have been unthinkable. On a positive note, the Boeing 747 debuted in 1968."

"A great plane, according to everything I've read."

"And a great company, run by engineers and aviation enthusiasts. If you fly internationally, you'll probably be on a 747, and if you're anything like Murray Matheson, you'll fly first class and be pampered during the entire flight."

"That might be a few years away," I replied with a smile. "Buying a house comes first."

"That was a pipe dream for me at your age! We finally bought our first house in 1978. With two kids, an apartment just didn't cut it."

"I can believe that."

"Anyway, back to your trip. On the itinerary are three phone numbers — the agency number, my direct number, and an emergency 800 number which is answered twenty-four-hours a day, every day, including Christmas. If you can't reach me or someone here for any reason, call that number and they'll help you."

"Thanks."

Barney and I shook hands, and I left the travel agency to head back to Rogers Park. When I arrived home, Bianca and Shelly weren't there. A note hanging on the fridge said they had done the weekly grocery shopping, and would be out the rest of the day, as they needed to buy their books for the new semester, then were hanging out with some of the girls from Loyola, and going to a party on campus.

I went upstairs, stashed the tickets in the drawer of the computer desk, changed into comfortable clothes, changed the sheets on my bed, then went downstairs and started a load of laundry. Once the washer was running, I had a quick bite to eat, washed the plate I'd used, then went back upstairs to update my portfolio spreadsheets. Just before 1:00pm the doorbell rang, so I saved my work, shut off the Apple II, and went downstairs.

"Hi!" Clara Crowley exclaimed when I opened the door.

"Hi," I replied. "Come in."

She walked into the house carrying an overnight bag, and I closed the door behind her. As soon as it clicked shut, she launched herself into my arms, pressing her body against mine and giving me a searing French kiss.

"It's already thirty-seven hours since I turned seventeen and I'm still a virgin!" she exclaimed when she broke the kiss.

"Something which you could have remedied at any point in the past couple of years," I replied with a grin.

"Unh-uh!" she protested. "You said I was too young and I want YOU!"

"Not to be ungrateful, but why me?"

"Tall, dark, handsome, successful, and a man, not a boy!"

"And it has nothing to do with me dating your sister for a time?" I asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Duh!" Clara exclaimed. "She thinks she's hot shit, but I'm better in every way!"

"As I said when you made that statement earlier, it's a bold claim!"

"I guarantee I'm better!" Clara declared forcefully. "I'll do anything you want, and I'm positive you'll not only like it, but it'll be the best you've ever had!"

"I don't think you need to do a sales job at this point!"

"Then why are we standing by the door instead of screwing in your bed?"

"Why indeed?!"

I took her hand and led her up to my bedroom. I closed the door and turned on the stereo to WXRT, and turned up the volume, though not too loud.

"Birth control?" I asked.

"I'm on the Pill! I have been since I turned sixteen! I wanted you then!"

"Well, you have me now!"

"Wait here!" Clara declared, going into the bathroom and closing the door.

I decided to wait to see what she was doing before I took any action. I wasn't at all surprised when she emerged two minutes later wearing the same very short robe she'd been wearing the night she'd flashed me at her house. It was tied loosely and just barely covered her butt. It wasn't quite see-through, but it was translucent enough to show the clear outline of her body in the light streaming in through the window.

"You like?" she asked.

"I do," as I felt a familiar stirring below my waist.

She smiled coyly and tugged on the ribbon which held the robe closed, allowing the robe to fall open, barely hiding her breasts but showing a flat stomach and blonde pubic hair.

"How about now?"

"Better," I replied with an approving smile.

She winked, then shrugged off the robe and was standing naked in front of me.

"And now?"

"Best!" I declared.

"Glad you agree! If you get undressed, I'll give you the best blowjob and the best fuck you've ever had!"

I laughed, "And if not?"

"Then I'll just have to keep trying until I get it right! But I think it'll be you demanding more!"

"We'll see!" I declared, starting to undress.

And actually, remembering how tight Allyson had been, if Clara was similarly tight, she might actually not be wrong, though the competition for 'best' was, and I almost laughed at the thought, 'stiff'. When I finished undressing by slipping off my briefs, Clara's eyes went wide.

"WHOA!" she gasped. "You're huge!"

"Changed your mind?" I asked.

"NO WAY!" Clara exclaimed. "Lie down!"

I did as she instructed, propping myself against both pillows so I could watch.

Clara climbed into bed and knelt over my groin.

"My very first blowjob!" she exclaimed. "And I saved it just for you!"

If she'd never given one, I wondered exactly how she thought it would be the best, and was curious about how she go about it. I watched as she grasped my shaft and held me straight up. She kissed the tip of my glans, parted her lips, and began taking me into her warm, soft mouth. Her lips slowly moved down my shaft until the tip of my glans touched the back of her mouth and she gagged slightly. She lifted her head a bit, and tried again with the same result, then released me.

"I don't think I can get it all the way into my mouth," she said. "Kelly said guys loved that!"

"No need to be a defeatist! It felt great and you can always practice in the future."

Clara smiled, licked her lips, and then took me as deeply into her mouth as she could without gagging, then began bobbing, stroking me with one hand, cupping my sack with the other, and sliding her tongue around my glans when just it was in her mouth. Clearly, whoever 'Kelly' was had given her very good instructions, and despite it being Clara's first, she was doing a fantastic job and it felt great. I leaned back, watched, and enjoyed the sensation.

She stroked, bobbed, sucked, and licked, all the while gently squeezing my sack, enthusiastically bringing me to the point of no return. The tips she had been given were complete, and when I twitched, she kept just my glans in her mouth, sucked, and stroked me fast until I groaned and pulsed and cum spurted into Clara's mouth. When my orgasm had passed, she bobbed a couple of times, then released me.

"And?" she asked with a smile and an arched eyebrow.

"Awesome!"

"Let me go rinse my mouth," she said, starting to get up.

"That advice was unnecessary; come French kiss me."

Clara scrambled up next to me and we exchanged another searing French kiss.

"How soon can you go again?" she asked. "Kelly said it depends."

"Kelly seems to be a fount of infinite information!"

"My best friend. She has experience, obviously."

"Obviously. Less than ten minutes. I believe I can find something to do until then!"

"I have been DYING to have my pussy licked!"

"Just that?" I asked.

"No, of course not! But Kelly says it's heavenly!"

"Then let's see if Kelly is right!"

We kissed again, and we shifted so she was reclining where I'd been, propped up against a pillow so she could watch. I scooted a bit and planted soft kisses on each of the hard, pink nipples which capped Clara's small, pert breasts. I took one of them into my mouth and sucked gently, teasing it with my tongue, causing Clara to moan softly. After about fifteen seconds, I switched to her other breast, sucked briefly, then kissed my way down her stomach.

I moved between Clara's legs, looked up, winked, then planted a gentle kiss on her plump labia. I alternated kissing the insides of Clara's thighs and her labia for about a minute, then gently probed between her labia with the tip of my tongue, getting my first taste of her tangy juices. Clara moaned softly and put her hand on the back of my head as I carefully pressed my tongue into her and flicked her clit. Clara groaned softly and pressed down with her hand, encouraging me.

I slipped my arms under Clara's legs and was able to cup her breasts with my hands and strum her nipples while I pleasured her with my mouth.

"That feels SO good!" Clara moaned.

How good it felt was obvious a minute later when Clara groaned and pushed her hips up while pressing my face into her pussy. She had a second one before I felt blood begin to flow, which would allow me to take advantage of Clara's offer and to fulfill her request. Remembering just how tight her sister was, and knowing I didn't have any lubricant, I felt it was imperative to use baby oil.

"I need to get some baby oil," I said. "It'll make your first time easier."

"Hurry!" Clara commanded.

I certainly had no intentions of dawdling, and went to the bathroom for the bottle of baby oil, then returned to the bedroom. I sat on the edge of the bed, squirted baby oil onto my palm and stroked my rock-hard shaft, coating it liberally with baby oil. I then squirted a bit onto Clara's labia and spread it with my finger. I set the bottle on the night stand then moved to kneel between Clara's legs.

"Spread your knees wide," I suggested, "and rest your heels on my butt."

Clara nodded and spread her legs, and when I positioned myself at her entrance, rested her feet on the upper part of my thigh. I grasped my shaft, rubbed my glans along Clara's slick labia, and, finding the right spot, pushed my hips forward, applying pressure until my glans slipped into her.

"Oomph!" she gasped.

My glans felt like it was in a vise, and Clara had tensed a bit, which would make it even more difficult to push into her.

"Take a deep breath and relax," I said quietly. "You're very tight."

"I'm cherry! Duh!"

I wasn't an expert in physiology, but I knew that had little to do with it. In any event, she did as I asked, and when I felt a slight relaxation of her muscles, I pushed forward, gaining another inch. Several repeats, timed to follow each breath Clara took, allowed me to bury myself completely inside her.

"So full!" she gasped.

"Tell me when it's OK to keep going," I said.

Clara took several deep breaths and blew them out, then nodded, "Fuck me, please."

I pulled back, then slowly pushed into her extremely tight tunnel, savoring the silky feel of her walls as they squeezed my shaft. After five strokes, I lowered myself completely onto Clara, who tightened her legs around me, then rested her hands on my back. We began kissing as I slowly fucked her, and after about a dozen strokes, she began moving with me, tensing her muscles each time our pubic hair came together.

The sensations caused by moving in and out of a very, very tight pussy, combined with Clara squeezing her muscles, threatened to bring me off before I was ready, but by controlling my breathing, I managed to hold back, and when about five minutes had passed, I ground against her each time she squeezed her muscles, with Clara's moans conveying her pleasure.

About a minute later, her entire body tensed, I ground harder, and she groaned as her pussy walls spasmed, squeezing my shaft and glans even more tightly. When Clara's orgasm had passed, I resumed thrusting, moving faster and more forcefully. Clara met each thrust by raising her hips in tempo, and squeezed me tightly with her muscles each time I ground against her.

My pleasure was building to the point of no return, and I tried to bring Clara off just as I reached the pinnacle of pleasure. I wasn't perfectly successful, blasting three spurts of cum into her before her orgasm began, and the last before it ended, but it was awesome nonetheless. When her orgasm passed, I slowly pulled out, slid down, and licked her to another orgasm before moving up for a searing French kiss.