Chapter 3

Later that morning Mr. Broniger called and asked me if I would like to come to a birthday party Sunday for his daughter, Teri, who was a senior at high school. I accepted. Fortunately he didn't ask me anything about the night before beyond "Did you get the girls home OK?".

That afternoon we had an informal rowing meet. We didn't do too well, but nobody was in it to win. My back was bothering me where Sharon had scratched it.When I got home I could see in the mirror that a couple of the scratches were red, but I didn't think anything of it.

That Sunday I decided to walk over to the Broniger's. The party was a lot of fun. There probably were thirty or forty kids there and we danced to records and talked. His daughter, Teri, was very cute. Dark hair molded around her face, and a pert body, but I quickly labeled her as a JAP -- shorthand for a spoiled jewish daughter. I found another girl, Sara, much more interesting and spent a good part of the evening talking with her.

Sara was medium height, cute, but not a beauty, and wore her hair long. Like me she was not from Chicago. She lived in Champagne where her Dad worked tuning and repairing musical instruments. She was staying with her aunt and uncle for the summer. She was taking a summer school course in Russian at the University of Chicago and working at her Uncle's flower shop. We were surprised to find that we both would be going to the University of Wisconsin in the fall, the same school I planned to go to. Sarah couldn't believe that I was living alone for the summer. By the time the party broke up I had phone numbers for several girls and a date with Sarah for Tuesday night to go to the movies.

The next day, I woke up with my back much worse than it had been. It was stiff and hurt each time I moved. I called in sick, the first time I had done so. I lounged around around all morning. The day was a scorcher. I decided that maybe going swimming would help my back loosen. If it didn't, I decided I should probably see a doctor. The Goldmans had given me a standing invitation to use their pool whenever I wanted to, and I changed into my swimming suit, grabbed a towel and went over.

The pool definitely helped, and after swimming a few laps at a very leisurely pace, I got out and lay face down on one of the lounge chairs, thinking that maybe the sun would help as well. I quickly fell asleep.

"You look like you have been whipped." I woke up to Mrs. Goldman's voice. I had hoped I wouldn't see Mrs. Goldman. I wasn't quite sure how to handle the fact that she had seen me coming home in the cab Saturday morning. I though I would just ignore it and hope she wouldn't say anything.

"Stay right there. Don't move. I am going to get something for your back. Some of those scratches are infected."

She same back a few minutes later with a tray of stuff.

"I am going to clean these up, wash them out with hydrogen peroxide, and put some bacitracin on them. If they aren't better by tomorrow, I am taking you to the doctor."

Her idea of cleaning them out was to scrub them briskly with a rough washcloth, a painful experience. I gritted my teeth and bore it stoically. The hydrogen peroxide wasn't bad, and her hands gently rubbing bacitracin into the scratches felt positively good. She was wearing a terry cloth robe and a two piece swimsuit and she knelt down next to me while she worked. the robe was open and I was keenly conscious of her thighs and broad hips next to my body.

"Lying there in the sun is probably good for the scratches, but you are going to burn. I'll get you some suntan lotion." She left and came back a few minutes later.

When she came back she pulled over another lounge chair and sat on it, her knees inches from me. She began rubbing suntan lotion on my back, careful to avoid the scratches.

"Bobby, I know I am not your mother.", she started," but I know she would want me to talk to you about this."

I was acutely embarrassed. I didn't want to talk to her "about this".

"Bobby, you are a very attractive boy. You are tall, muscular, and handsome. You are bright and you have a good future." She rubbed some more lotion on around my neck.

"There are going to be a lot of girls who want to get into bed with you. Some will do it because they want to have you marry them. Some will do it... well, just because they want to go to bed with somebody as attractive as you, or because they want to show their girlfriends they can attract boys. If you are like any other boy your age, you are going to want to get into bed with them."

She started rubbing the back of my legs with the lotion.

"But there are real risks with some kinds of girls. Not just some infected scratches on your back. You might catch a disease. Do you know what I am talking about.?" She started to rub the backs of my thighs.

I turned so I could see her and nodded. I couldn't quite see her face, but I could see her large breasts hanging down in her top as she bent over my legs.

"You might also get a girl pregnant. That could ruin your future. You might have to marry somebody you really didn't want to marry, or do something illegal. Was the girl you were with last night someone you would want to marry?"

She stopped and waited for an answer, her hand on the back of my thigh.

" No." I replied, though truth to tell, I had really liked Sharon. A brief image flashed through my mind of her on the bed with her legs spread and my come in her.

"I know that you really want to sow your oats. All boys do, and you are handsome enough that you will have more chances than most. That's natural. I doubt I could stop you if I tried. I am just telling you that you have to be careful and stay in control of your urges. You have to worry about getting some girl pregnant. You have to worry about your reputation. You want the right girl to respect you. Now I am going to talk with some of my friends and get you introduced to some nice Jewish girls. Is that alright?"

Her hand started rubbing the back of my thigh again.

"That would be great, Mrs. Goldman." I replied. Then I tried a ploy that always worked with my Mom. " I am sorry if I disappointed you."

" That's OK, Bobby. I know it is hard being young. Now roll over, if you can it without hurting your back, and I'll get your front too."

I rolled over. Mrs. Goldman was motionless for a moment. She looked taken aback, She put the lotion down on the lounge chair and got up.

"I need to go inside. here, you can do your front."

I watched her go inside, wondering what had happened. I looked down. My cock wasn't fully erect, but it was swollen, and very clearly outlined against my nylon swimsuit. Oh jeeze. Mrs. Goldman was lecturing me about controlling myself, and I was getting a woody while she was doing it. After the cab I didn't think I could get much lower in her eyes. Clearly there were unplumbed depths to my humiliation. Wretchedly I picked up my towel and went back to my house.

The date with Sarah was great. We had planned to go the movies. Instead we spent the whole evening in a burger place, just chatting about each other and what going to college would be like. We made an early evening of it because her class started at 7:45. When I drove her home in the Kalsten's big Ford station wagon she kissed me before she got out and went in.

When I got back to the Goldman's, I piled up a bowl of potato chips, stripped down to a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt and was plopped in front of the TV when I heard a tap at the door. I went to answer it, hiding my body behind the door. Mrs. Goldman was there.

"I thought we had better make sure your back was OK", she said, waving a little plastic tub with a washcloth, hydrogen peroxide, and tube of bacitracin in it. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a green knit shirt.

"Sure, just give a moment." I remembered seeing a robe of Mr. Klasten's in the downstairs bathroom, and I ran and grabbed it, and came back and let her in.

"Oh goody" she said, walking over to the bar in the den. "Larry always has some Tom Collins mix. I am going to have one. Would you like a beer or something?"

"Just a coke" I replied.

She pulled bottles out of the refrigerator, fixed herself a drink, and poured me a coke. When she walked over she seemed a little bit unsteady. I was suddenly sure that the Tom Collins was not her first drink of the evening.

"Well, let's get to work. Are you decent under that robe?" she asked.

"Not really. I just have my boxer shorts on. I'll go get dressed." I started to leave.

"Lie down on the sofa. Boxer shorts are decent enough, and this won't take long.You can cover yourself with the afghan". She gestured to the sofa and a brightly colored knit blanket folded over the back of it.

She went to get some hot water at the bar. While she was doing that I quickly slipped the robe off and lay down, pulling the afghan over my butt. She came back and kneeled down by the sofa. I again felt her vigorously scrubbing my back hard with a washcloth and warm water, but this time it didn't feel so bad.

"This looks much better. I don't think you are going to have any scars..."

Her hands slid up my back and caressed the muscles on my shoulder blades, then slid down. She stopped a moment, and I could sense her squeezing the tube of bacitracin into her hand. She started to gently rub it onto the scratches.

"I hope this has taught you a lesson." Her hands were now firmly rubbing my back well away from the scars, kneading at the muscles.

"That feels good." I said.

"I'll bet it does. Your rowing has sure built the muscles on your back. You are a very good looking boy, Bobby"

Her hands kneaded harder, and started sliding up my back and spreading on my shoulder blades. The movement became rhythmic. The massage felt very good, and I relaxed. Her hands worked their way down my back, her palms pressing against my skin and easing around the sides of my back. The motion changed as her hands moved down, and I could feel my cock pressing into the sofa. Uh, oh. The last thing in the world I wanted was another woody that Mrs. Goldman saw. I shifted a little bit. She kept kneading, putting her weight into it. She started pushing up from the small of my back, pulling the skin tight over my ass When she started at the small of my back, she pushed down on my back, pushing my now hard cock into the sofa. Mrs. Goldman was really into the massage, and I could hear her breathing in taut long breaths in rhythm with her hands. Then she lightened up, gave one light lingering caress right above my shorts, and took her hand away.

"I think I had better stop now." she said.

I moved my head and looked at her. Her mouth was slightly open and she seemed slightly dazed. The Tom Collins was empty and I realized she probably had had too much to drink. As she started to get up the knit shirt was drawn taut across her front, and I could see the outline of her full breasts.

"You just stay there", she said. "I'll get my stuff and go."

She started picking up everything, bending down next to me. As she fumbled for the little plastic tub her ass was just a few inches from me, and I felt a surge in my cock as I looked at it. I fought down an image that flashed through my mind of what it would be like to fuck Mrs. Goldman from behind, followed immediately by guilt that I could even think such a thing. She straightened up, the image was gone, and a second later she was at the door.

She turned at the door, looked at me, and said "I'll stop by tomorrow night and check it again.".

Ten seconds later I was rolled over and stroking my cock with my hand. My mind was filled with images of Mrs. Goldman, thoughts of her big breasts, her ass, the look in her eyes when she had stopped massaging me. I wanted to fuck her. I knew I couldn't, I felt guilty, but my mind was filled with images of doing it to her, of shooting my sperm deep into her cunt. With a few more strokes, the sperm arced out of my cock. A few minutes later and I was at the laundry sink trying to wash my sperm off the afghan.

When I got up the next morning to walk the dogs and get ready for work, I found a note under the door. It was from Mrs. Goldman. She had forgotten to tell me last night, but she had talked to her friend Mrs. Mayer, and I was invited to a party Mrs. Mayer's daughter, Sherri, was having that night. Below that she had drawn a little map of how to get there. Beneath the map she had written in "Sherri is a nice girl". The "nice" was underlined twice. I had sort of hoped to call Sarah and see if she was doing anything tonight, but I thought I had better go to the party or Mrs. Goldman would be disappointed with me. I wondered if I could bring Sarah, then decided I probably shouldn't since Mrs. Goldman obviously wanted me to meet Sherri.

That day my back bothered me, but just a little bit. Nonetheless, I decided not to row that afternoon, and called and made my excuses. I stayed later than usual and Emily immediately noticed.

"What's the matter? Aren't we rowing today?" Emily asked when we were both by the copy machine.

"No, I hurt my back. I am not going to row today." I was trying to get a copy job centered right and wasn't really paying attention to her.

"Anything I can do to help?"

A moment later I felt a warm hand slide under the back of my shirt and up my back. Emily was just fooling around, but I jumped, afraid she would feel the scratches and realize what had caused them.

She looked at me, a little surprised by my reaction. I could feel a warm blush spreading up my face.

"You're blushing." she said, a speculative look in her blue eyes.

"It's nothing", I said.

"With a blush like that you must have hurt your back doing something bad What were you doing? A little too energetic with your girl friend?"

Emily was smiling. She often joked about a mysterious "girl friend" that I must have. This was a little too close to the mark, and I could feel the blush deepening. Emily was nothing, if not perceptive.

"My God. You did. How embarrassing." Her hand went over her mouth to hide her smile, but I also could feel that she was actually sorry for me.

"No. I didn't. I don't have a girl friend." I immediately thought of Sara. "I mean, well, maybe I do now, but this wasn't from her. I mean we haven't done anything... nothing that would hurt my back... we just kissed, that's all. " I sort of stuttered to a stop and my blush deepened even more. I hadn't realized till then that I regarded Sarah as a "girlfriend".

"Oh, Bobby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you." Emily leaned over and gently kissed me on the cheek. "You are such a sweet boy."

She turned to leave the copy room even though she still had her papers to be copied in her hand. The irrepressible Emily, however, couldn't quite stop.

"A sweet boy. With a great ass." She was out the door.

The banter with Emily was always fun. She embarrassed me, she left me speechless, but I always felt this warm undercurrent of care for me. The little exchange left me happy for the rest of the day.

The party was fun. I felt a little guilty about not having called Sarah, but if I had I would have had to explain what I was doing. The party was actually a going away party for Sherri's sister who was leaving to take summer classes in France the next day. Sherri's sister was older so the party had both kids my age, and college kids a couple of years older than me. Sherri was sort of a bust. She was fairly cute, but had JAP written all over her, from her expensive little black cocktail dress to her carefully coiffed hair. Her Dad was pretty nice though. He had put the biggest bottle of champagne I had ever seen on the table, something called a Nebuchadnezzar, had cautioned everyone that this was a week night so the party was over with at 10:30 and left us alone. The fun thing all evening was trying to pour champagne from the huge bottle. It took two of us. I danced with Sherri and some of the other girls, but ended up spending most of my time talking with some other guys. One, Jerry, was a rower at college where he was a junior. July 4th fell on a Sunday that year, but our office would also be closed on Monday. Jerry offered to take me up to Rockford on the July 4th weekend to watch a off-season fun meet. Theynwere having a festival with fireworks a day early. I knew that would be OK with Sara because she had told me she was going home for the weekend.

I got home about 10:30, and when I walked in, Mrs. Goldman was sitting on the sofa in the den, her little plastic bucket of supplies next to her, and a Tom Collins in her hand. She was wearing a denim skirt, sandals and a black scoop neck top. As soon as she said hello I realized she was drunk.

"Take off your shirt and pants, put on your robe and sit down. let's see how everything is healing.", Mrs. Goldman patted the sofa next to her a little bit too energetically.

I went to the bathroom, slid off my shoes, and pants and shirt and put on Mr. Klasten's robe. I came back and sat down next to her, but facing away so she could get to my back.

"How was the party? Did you like Sherri?"

I said it was fine. Mrs. Goldman pulled down the robe and started rubbing at my back with the washcloth. It hardly hurt at all. While she put bacitracin on my back she continued to tell me what a nice girl Sherri was, that she had been accepted to all her college choices, and that she had six advanced placement credits to take with her to Oberlin. She stopped frequently to take a sip from her drink. About the time that I felt she was done with the bacitracin, she started talking about other things. She put some lotion on her hands and massaged my back. After a minute I could feel her move, put her drink on the coffee table, and kneel up on the couch behind me while she stroked me.

Bobby, did you mind that I talked with you about sex?"

I told her that I hadn't minded. I had, but I thought it would be better if I told her I hadn't. Her hands sort of stroked my shoulders, then moved down and slid back and forth on my sides.