Chapter 2

I looked for ways that I could row that summer before college. We were 50 miles from the nearest rowing club. I also needed a summer job as my father said that he would pay tution, room, and board at college, but I would have to earn everything else. It would be an uncomfortable school year if I had no pocket money.

My father came up with the solution for both. He was friends with a wealthy executive at his company's advertising agency in Chicago. The friend and his wife were planning on being in Europe for two months in the summer. If I were willing to "babysit" their two dogs and cat while they were gone, he would put me up for the summer, give me a job as a mail clerk at his firm, and provide a schedule that would let me row every day with the local rowing club. He assured my parents that the next door neighbors would keep an eye on me while they were gone. Mom was dubious, but I would only be about 80 miles from home, and Dad assured her that he would "check up" on me on his frequent business trips to Chicago and bring me home for weekends often. The arrangment was struck.

The deal was great. I had my own room, ate with the Klasten's who were empty nesters in a big suburban house in a wealthy neighborhood, rode into work each day with Mr. Klasten untill he left for work, and took the train after that. I left each afternoon at 3:00 to take the train to the rowing club. There I rowed on a four with a local team of middle aged men who were after the excercise and were glad to have a youngster along. After rowing for two hours, one of the team would drop me off at the Klasten's on his way home. Mrs. Klasten quickly "adopted" me so that I had the usual hovering anxiety of a Jewish mom for male children. It was having a summer three or four notches up on the income scale.

I was introduced to the Goldmans next door, and they hired me for odd jobs like cleaning out their attic or cleaning their pool. They had a sixth grader, but she was away for camp for the summer. Dad and Mom came and visited several times, but I only went home one weekend, since we usually had impromptu "challenge" races on the weekends. Mom was reassured after meeting Mrs. Klasten and the Goldmans. I was in the best shape of my life from the rowing every day.

The job was fun, largely because I was young enough for any job to be fun. I was the clerk on a floor where most of the workers were typists and accounting people. The job was not just delivering mail but doing all sorts of chores. I was the one who fetched files, cleaned sticky typewriter keys, brought down rush work, replenished the supply closet and did all the odd jobs. Everybody on the floor was a woman except me and an older supervisor. A large number of the women were divorced single moms trying to both work and raise children. The women liked me, and enjoyed bantering with me. They delighted in teasing me and causing me to blush. Once when I was in the lunch room with them, I left and came back and caught the tail end of Emily saying "I would like to pinch that nice ass". That one caused us both to blush.

Emily was divorced in her early thirties with two kids in elementary school. She was definitely not Jewish, with a very German face, blonde hair, and blue eyes. Her whole face seemed to angle out into a projecting nose. She wasn't plain, but she wouldn't be called beautiful by most because her featuires were so strong. She was short, but had a nice, trim, attractive body. We joshed each other all the time.

After the Klasten's had left for Europe, Mrs. Goldman came over most evenings to check on me, and to see if there was anything I needed. Mrs. Goldman was about 35, nicely shaped, but a bit zoftig. She was always well dressed, and well made up. She had short blonde hair that seemed to change styles every week. Quite a few times she had me over for dinner with her and her husband. I didn't like her husband too much...

They were both drinkers and sometimes I was a bit uncomfortable because they would get a bit tiddly with a couple of cocktails drinks and a bottle of wine at dinner. Sometimes they quarreled. A couple of times I heard them yelling at night when I would cut through their backyard after the 10:00 news to take the dogs to the park for their walk. One night, Anita, their Spanish maid came over with a tenderloin steak dinner. Her English wasn't very clear, but I gathered that Mr. and Mrs. Goldman had gotten drunk, fought, both stormed out of the house, and left Anita with an untouched dinner for two. It was nice of her to think of me.

One evening Mrs. Goldman asked me if I wanted to work on Friday night. Her husband's law firm was having a firm party at one of the partner's homes, and they needed bartenders and waiters to help out. I agreed and that Friday she gave me a ride to a house about a mile away to help set up tables on the patio, pitch an awning, and spray the bushes with bug repellent.

I was a waiter for dinner. After dinner, Mr. Broniger, the host, asked me to bartend. Most of the drink orders were simple, and I avoided the complicated ones I didn't know how to make by saying that I didn't have everything needed. The party was for the retirement of the firm administrator and mostly staff were there, more women than men. A band setup after dinner and there was a lot of dancing and heavy drinking, particularly after the older couples had gone home. Mrs. Goldman came by at about 11:00 and told me that I made a great bartender. She and Mr. Goldman wanted to leave early as he was leaving town Saturday morning to take care of some matters with his mother's estate in New York. She would be glad to come back and pick me up later, but I told her I would be happy to walk. I sort of sensed that she and Mr. Goldman were fighting again.

The evening was lucrative. Mr. Broniger, the host, came around about midnight, thanked me, asked me if I would help clean up after everyone had gone and gave me a $100 bill, incredibly good pay for then. In addition I had close to $10 in tips.

As the party tapered down, one group of three or four secretaries became louder and more boisterous. They would grab men and make them dance with them. At one point I heard them say "get the bartender" and I found myself being led out by two laughing women to the dance area. I danced one fast dance with seemingly both of them at once. They were quite a contrast. One was tall, big hipped, and blonde and the other quite small, slender, and brunette with almost a boyish figure. They were dancing the limbo, absent the bar, and were deliberately giving me good shots of thigh and an occasional glimpse even higher. At one point the taller one of the two, a blonde, deliberately pumped her hips at me as if we were fucking. The next dance was a slow one-- "Hold me, Hold me"--, and the diminutive little brunette, grabbed me before the blonde. She pressed her body against mine, and rather than holding her hand at my back, she tucked both hands into my belt and massaged my ass. Her stomach pushed against my crotch and I quickly started to get an erection, something she was fully aware of, since she looked up at me, and said "something seems to be coming in between us", and chuckled as I blushed. At the end of the dance she pulled me down to kiss her and said "If you ever need help with that problem, just let me know." I hurriedly retreated back behind the bar, with the two secretaries giggling as they saw my erection pushing out my pants.

The party dwindled rapidly after that. The band went home and just a few people were left sitting at the tables talking. Mr. Broniger came over and asked me if I had been drinking at all. I told him I had had nothing but a couple of cokes. He asked me if I would be willing to drive home a couple of secretaries since they seemed "a bit under the weather" to drive. Mr. Broniger handed me a twenty, telling me to take a cab home after I had left the secretary's car at her place. The cab would be maybe $8 so I was being paid $12 for an hour of my time, very good wages then.

The pair turned out to be Sharon, the little brunette who couldn't weigh more than a hundred pounds, and Linda, the blonde. The car was Sharon's, a older Pontiac Tempest. Linda seemed pretty far gone, but Sharon was bright and bubbly. She sat in front with me, leaning against the door, taking her shoes off and putting her stocking legs up on the seat, while she gave me directions. At one point she turned on the radio and sort of danced in place to the "Hang on Sloopy". Linda's apartment was a straight shot up the expressway. I parked in a loading zone in front. Linda was sound asleep in the back seat. Sharon helped me wake her up and we took her up to her apartment. When we got there Linda put her arms around me and kissed me, very wetly, on the mouth, while she pressed her pelvis against me. Sharon was giggling behind her, watching as Linda pushed her leg between mine and rubbed. I backed off, and Sharon took Linda into the bedroom to help her get undressed. I was a bit excited. Had Sharon not been there I was sure I could have fucked Linda.

When we got back in the car, Sharon sat back down the same way, with her legs on the seat. After I had been driving a few minutes she stretched out and her feet went into my lap, where shortly they moved against my cock.

"Well". she laughed, " I guess the problem subsided. Linda didn't make it worse?"

Her feet stayed in my lap and continued to rub against my cock.

"Maybe I had better be sure".

She sat up, scooted over near me, and placed her hand on the front of my khakis, massaging my prick.

"Yep. No problem.", she rubbed more, " No wait. There does seem to be a little trouble. Yes, there is a growing problem."

She removed her hand from my erect cock and smiled at me as I searched for a place to park near her apartment building, finally stopping about a block away.

"Do you need help with that little problem? Maybe a hand?", she giggled.

I had been annoyed with her, but my annoyance was rapidly changing to lust. Without answering her question, I went around and opened her door. She swiveled on the seat with her dress rucked up so that I could almost see her panties. When she stood up she pulled my head down and we kissed, first lightly, and then heavily with our tongues intertwined.

She broke the kiss, looked down at my cock, and said "Maybe you had better walk me to my apartment".

As we walked up the stairs I stared at her legs. Sharon was older than me but I thought maybe we could kiss, and perhaps do more.When we were in her apartment she kissed me again, and pressed against me. It was a long deep kiss, and my hand rose up to her small breast. She moved back, ran her fingers down my cheek and said,

"Do you have a rubber? I'm not on the pill"

"I don't" I replied, both shocked and aroused by her bluntness. The pill was still new then and though there were many news stories about it, few women actually were on the pill.

"Listen", she said, "there are lots of things we can do, but I am too close to the middle of the month to take a chance. Is that alright?"

I nodded my head, and a second later she was leading me by the hand into her bedroom. As soon as we were in it, she turned on a radio. She pushed me back so I was seated on the bed. She stood about three feet in front of me and began to undress. She turned it almost into a striptease, dancing to music only she heard, taking off her dress while I watched, unsnapping her stockings from her garter belt and and unrolling them down her legs. She stood in front of me and reached up and pushed her breasts up. Then she undid her bra and slid down her garter belt. She moved around for a moment, striking poses in just her panties, and then she pulled those off. I avidly stared at her standing in front of me, stark naked. She had a small, petite, almost elfin body with teacup sized breasts. Her legs were perfectly shaped, and they were set wide apart so that there was a little gap between them. Her pubic hair was brown like her hair, It was much sparser than Caroline's. she danced until the song ended. then she turned off the radio.

"Let's see how that problem is" she said, smiling, and squatted down on in front of me.

My eyes went to her small but very sexy breasts. Her skin was smooth and had a slight mediterranean look to it. Each breast had a brown nipple with a puffed out aureola around it. her breats had a little sag to them. Her hand went to my shirt buttons, unbuttoned each one, and slid the shirt off. Her palms moved over my chest and rubbed around my nipples. She kissed me and her hand went down to the front of my pants and felt my semi-hard cock.

"A very big problem, it feels like."

She slid off my loafers, and lifted each leg up to take off the sock. Then her hands were at my belt and pants. A moment later she told me to lift up and pulled down my pants and underwear together. My prick sprang up almost fully erect.

"Oh, wow.That is a big problem."

Her hands went to my cock and tentatively moved up and down it. She leaned her head over it. All I could see was her hair, but I felt her breath on it, and then I felt her mouth go down around my glans. I moaned, and she looked up, tossed her hair back, grinned at me, and started going up and down on my cock, both with her mouth and her hands. Now I could see her mouth on my cock, and her brown eyes kept looking up at me. It was intensely exciting.

After a few minutes I could feel the building pressure at the base of my cock. I had never had a blow job before and didn't quite know what I should do. Should I tell her that I was about to come? She must have sensed I was close because she took her mouth off of my cock and looked up at me, her hands still stroking my cock.

"You can come in my mouth, " she said.

Her head went back down on my cock, her mouth descending way down the shaft, then sucking as she pulled back up. Her words resonated in my mind and excited me even more. My hips started to pump and I felt my ejaculation start. Her hand gently clasped my balls. As my semen spurted into her mouth she pushed her lips down on my cock and sucked in rhythm with my discharges. In three or four pulsations I was drained.

She looked up at me and smiled.

'Well that wasn't so much work. Pleasant work if you can find it. And the problem appears all gone." She wiggled my deflating cock with her hand.

She got up still naked and walked out of the bedroom, giving me a view of her ass.

"Do you want something to drink?" she called.

"Anything" I replied still sitting on the bed.

A minute later she came back into the bedroom with two big aluminum tumblers. They were rum and cokes, strong ones. I sipped at mine while staring at her body as she sat down on the bed next to me. She drank quickly.

"Well, I said we could have fun. Was that fun for you?" Her hand moved onto my bare thigh and absently touched my no longer erect cock. She drank more.

"It was great. It was really good."

"Really? I give good blow job, don't I?"

I had never heard a girl use words like "blow job". The crudity excited me and I could feel life coming back into my cock. Sharon stood up and walked over to the dresser and put her empty tumbler down. She walked back, stood in front of me, and then straddled my leg, her bare pussy pressing against my skin. She put her hand on my tumbler, looked inside, saw it was still two thirds full.

"Drink up. The faster you drink up the sooner we can play."

I drank the tumbler quickly. We both got up on the bed and slid under the covers. I could feel her body pressing against mine. It was a small body, very lithe, and I found it very sexy. I started kissing her lips, her neck, and her breasts. My mouth closed on one of her nipples and I sucked it, then drew back and tickled it with my tongue, then sucked it rythmically as I had learned to do with Caroline.