Chapter 10: Glimpse at beauty

The bushel of fruit I delivered on Sunday evening was well received by the guys in room 3 C. Dale was late in arriving so Jarvis took it upon himself to divvy it up between everyone to suit himself. By the time he got to me there were only four pieces left, a banana, two oranges and an apple. He called it privilege of rank when he handed me my share. I thanked him for his generosity. The others had been so busy begging Jarvis to give them the choice pieces that no one had noticed me stash the box of energy bars in my footlocker. At least I had them to stave off my hunger in the middle of the night. They all took notice of my second pair of shoes and new football pads.

By Wednesday I had managed to collect two demerits and six pissed off roommates. All I could think about was sex with Ellen. Her pussy dominated my mind from morning until after lights out. Why hadn't I paid more attention when she spread her cunt with both hands to receive me? That's what I was thinking about when Mr. Bigalow called upon me in health class. I stood at attention. "It's dark pink and slick inside, sir."

"What in creation are you describing cadet Oldham?" The instructor asked and I knew I was in trouble when the class broke up in uproarious laughter. I was too embarrassed to tell him what I was talking about so he had no other choice but to assess me a demerit.

The second demerit came during football practice when I was caught staring at the sky, visualizing Ellen's ass in a cloud formation. With her poking it in the air and looking back at me to see what was taking me so long to spear her with my cock.

Dale was so livid he had trouble talking to me on Wednesday night. He first chewed Craig's ass, reminding him of his responsibility and blaming him for failing to train me properly. For once I stood up for Craig, taking all the blame for my two demerits. Dale warned me that if I got one more demerit that I would be confined to quarters and wouldn't get to go to our school's first football game on Friday afternoon. "Shape up," he ordered and all my roommates chimed in with similar demands. I don't think they cared if I missed the game. They were only interested in our room's academic score, which would suffer if my grades didn't improve. I received another warning from Mr. Krown, who explained that he had the duty that weekend if anyone was confined to quarters. He told me how I would be dealt with if we had to stay at school while everyone else had the weekend off.

They got my attention; I didn't want to miss the trip to Dearborn Military Academy and I certainly didn't want to spend another weekend restricted to quarters. I put everything else out of my mind and concentrated on class work, study and football. On Thursday afternoon we played a mini-game of freshman football. A couple of guys on the opposing team got up slowly after I hit them. Mr. Borden just smiled.

I even got a chance to carry the ball. The play was supposed to go between the Center our Right Guard but at the last minute I changed the play. "We're coming right at you Bertram the Third," I yelled, looking directly at Russell who was playing defensive end. I knew he hated to be reminded that his name was derived from two generations before him. He glared at me. Mr. Borden blew his whistle but not before the ball was snapped and I was plowing into Russell's chest. He tackled me hard before I reached the line of scrimmage and we rolled around on the ground until we heard Mr. Borden's whistle again.

Russell and I got to our feet laughing until we saw the displeasure on Mr. Borden's face and all our classmates looking on in dismay. "Oldham, two laps," the coach barked.

I stared at Mr. Borden in disbelief. I was entitled to two more chances to carry the ball. He couldn't do this to me; it wasn't fair.

'It's your choice. Start running or take a demerit for disobedience.' His demeanor told me he was serious so I took off without complaining.

"Oldham," I heard Mr. Borden yell at me. I stopped in my tracks and turned to see what he wanted.

"Backwards," he said. I stood there looking at him, trying to understand what he was saying. My classmates were watching too, also curious as to what Mr. Borden was conveying to me.

"Run the two laps backwards," he ordered and I took off again without waiting for further explanation because I wanted to put distance between myself and my inquisitive classmates. Even Russell seemed to be enjoying the dilemma I found myself in; either putting my clumsy backwards running skill on display for the entire school or taking a third demerit.

It wasn't so bad. We often ran backwards but only for short distances like twenty yards at a time. The track around two football fields was just over a quarter of a mile long. Running a half-mile backwards would be a true test of my endurance. But with the whole school watching I didn't take any chances of being tripped up by my own feet.

"One more for good measure," Mr. Borden said when I finished the second lap. I took off again, cursing him under my breath and muttering to myself about how I would get even with the prying eyes that followed my every step.

"Coach busted your balls today," Russell whispered to me in the shower later.

"I had it coming," I whispered back.

"Next time you run at me like that I'm going to break you in two, you scrawny runt."

"Save it for some other sucker. I ain't going to be doing that again real soon."

"Come home with me this weekend. We'll go over to the high school field and play some tackle with my friends. You'll like them; they're just like you, real sissies."

"Can't do it this weekend, Third. I got some business at home."

"Don't call me that, homo," Russell said. We had stopped whispering and others were paying attention to what they perceived as an argument. But it wasn't an argument. That's how Russell and I talked to each another.

"Sorry, okay if I call you Three?"

Russell let that one slide. "What's so important that you have to go home this weekend? My uncle's coming to pick me up. Tell that chauffeur of yours not to come after you."

"I can't do that," I said.

"How come?"

"Because, I'm planning on getting laid again."

Russell scoffed at my claim, but he didn't get a chance to ask more questions. The Junior Varsity team was coming into the shower and pushing us out.

Mr. Borden caught me as I was coming out of the shower. "Oldham, I don't know what got into you today, but you narrowly escaped being confined to quarters for the weekend. We're going to have a conversation next week about your rogue behavior on the football field. You're going to have to learn it's a disciplined game. But for now, I do think I owe you an explanation for the third lap though. By the time we finish dinner the whole school is going to know what you did to receive the punishment, even the Commandant. I know he doesn't want to see you left behind tomorrow, but others may not agree with my leniency. The third lap was for good measure. Now give me one of those boyish grins to show that you agree."

I complied and we parted.

On Friday afternoon the football team and three coaches took the school bus to Dearborn Military Academy. The rest of us rode with parents or in my case, with Charlie's mother in her VW convertible. Ned was going to pick me up at Dearborn after the dance, which was to be held after the game. Russell rode with us too, he and I in the back seat while Charlie rode up front with his mother. Sheila Evans pulled into the stream of larger cars and kept up with them at high speeds. There must have been one hundred cars in the caravan because our sister school, Speedwell School for Young Females, was going with us to the game.

Sheila did her best to include us in the conversation she was having with Charlie. She wanted to know about our classes and how we liked the program at C.M.A. We all said we were adjusting to wearing our uniforms to class and living in a room with other guys. I knew she worked in television and would have liked to ask her about her job, but I didn't know how to word my questions.

Russell and I talked quietly, making plans to scope out the girls from Speedwell at the post-game dance. We were a little anxious about meeting them for the first time, not knowing what to expect. He wanted to know what I was talking about in the shower the day before. Up until then I hadn't told anyone about Ellen, and I had resolved to keep it to myself. But I had relived the day in my mind and was dying to tell someone else about my conquest.

I don't think Russell believed a word of what I was whispering in his ear, but he listened attentively. I related the events of the past month, telling him about waking up to find Ellen sucking my cock the first time. He interrupted me to ask what she looked like and I described her as a gorgeous blonde with a voracious appetite for sex. I told him about Ellen having to get permission from Pinky before we actually fucked, and about her demand that I wear a rubber while avoiding the mention of money changing hands. By the time I got to the shaving cream incident, and Ellen wanting to do it on the bathroom floor, it was evident that I had lost him. Russell didn't believe me and wanted to change the subject. I thought it was probably because of how I had described how Ellen looked, knowing I should have told him the truth about that. It was his loss; he didn't get to hear about us doing it doggy style or Ellen's refusal to accept the ten-dollar tip that I offered.

We thanked Sheila for the ride and left to join our respective units, Charlie and I to Company C, Russell to Company B. It took fifteen minutes for the formation to assemble because some cars arrived late and had trouble finding a place to park.

We marched into the stadium, our band playing its favorite march, and took our seats in the bleachers at about the fifty yard line. The Speedwell girls were in the bleachers to our left and parents to our right. The cadets from Dearborn were seated directly across the field from us with their sister school, Forester Woman's Preparatory School to their left and their parents on their right. The layout at Dearborn was very similar to Cromwell. Their dormitories, classrooms and field house were near duplicates of ours and their uniforms were made of the same rough worsted material that we wore. Neither school had a lighted football field.