Chapter 8: Spring 1989-1 Sheila

It was the end of March before I had a chance to tell Sheila how her son lost his virginity. The third quarter was over; I was eighteen and had been promoted to the rank of Cadet Major. Spring was in the air that Friday afternoon when Sheila arrived at school to pick us up.

Charlie and I sat in the front seat and chatted. Sheila sat in the back and if she overheard anything we said she didn't let on. We talked about what was happening within Company C, the school, a play I was in and about graduation. We were both excited about college in the fall, hoping we would be able to room together. Charlie was very excited about the weekend plans he had made. Margaret was coming to stay with Debra Simmons and we had a double date lined up.

"You don't mind if all four are in the same motel room, do you? There'll be two beds."

"I won't mind, but I don't know how Debra will feel about it," I said. "After all, this is our first date." I didn't know how Debra felt about anything, certainly not how she felt about sharing a bed with me at all, much less with another couple in the same room.

"Margaret will talk to her. She'll be cool with it," Charlie assured me.

At least I had time to prepare for this visit. We changed into civilian clothes and went to the kitchen where Sheila was putting the finishing touches on dinner. She was very interested in what was going on at school and seemed pleased to have me there for the weekend. Dinner was interrupted twice by phone calls, both for Charlie.

Sheila smiled when he returned to the table after speaking with Margaret. "Is she settled in, honey?"

"Yes and no," Charlie answered his mother, but gave me a look of distress. "Debra's going to be a problem."

I understood him to mean that Debra was against us sharing a bed in a room with him and Margaret. It didn't surprise me. We hardly knew one another. Sheila looked from Charlie to me before deciding that whatever we were discussing didn't concern her.

"We can make other arrangements," I said, wanting to assure Charlie I wouldn't interfere with his plans while trying to disguise my intent from Sheila.

"Margaret's going to talk to her some more," Charlie said, as if his girlfriend could convince Debra Simmons to sleep with me, someone she hardly knew. Since Charlie had been having sex with Margaret he had become a new person, supremely confident. To him nothing was impossible.

The second interruption of our dinner was a call from his father. When the call didn't terminate in a reasonable length of time, Sheila became restless. "He must know we're having dinner. Why doesn't Charlie tell him?" she said, speaking more to her self than to me.

We only heard short bursts, short sentences, from Charlie's end of the conversation when his voice elevated in protest. "But Dad, I have company," he inserted and became quiet for about a minute. "Dad, I have plans," was followed by a long silence.

Sheila and I looked at each other, her face showing her concern for her son.

Sheila offered me second helpings of everything, which I declined, reminding her that I'd already had seconds. I complimented her on the meal and told her I had eaten more than usual. She scoffed and looked at her son's plate. It had hardly been touched and the food was probably cold.

"Let me talk to him," she said, throwing her napkin down and walking to the other side of the kitchen. Charlie refused to give her the phone and it was obvious that he was telling his father that Sheila was trying to extract the phone from his hands. Mother and son struggled for possession of the receiver and it became impossible for Charlie to continue his conversation. Uncomfortable with what was obviously a family squabble, I got up and left the room, so I don't know if Sheila got to speak with her ex-husband or not. Five minutes later Charlie joined me in his room, apologizing for the behavior around the phone.

I didn't voice an opinion or comment one way or the other because Charlie was clearly upset. I had seen him like that before when we were freshmen in room Three C. Sometimes when he returned to school after a weekend at home, he would stomp around, seemingly without purpose, unable to concentrate on getting ready for evening formation. At those times he was best left alone. This was one of those times.

He began packing a bag and throwing boots and heavy socks in the direction of his bed, he apologized for having to leave, for having to abandon me and for having to ruin our plans. "I have to go," he said, offering no other explanation for his sudden departure.

I dropped on the bed and lay on my back, trying to collect my thoughts. What just happened? Why had I agreed to come? I was forming a plan of action when Charlie came back into the room. "Hey Sammy, call Margaret for me, would you? Her number's there on my desk someplace."

I lifted my head but he was gone. I decided my best option was to take the next bus home so I got up and packed my own things before looking for a telephone book. I would call the bus station, get the bus schedule, call a taxi and if I had time I would phone Margaret.

The house was silent as I made my way to the kitchen. The table was cluttered with dishes and leftover food. I spotted a telephone book in a nook below the phone. All the time I was looking for the bus station number I kept looking back at the table. Where was Sheila and why hadn't she cleared the table?

The next bus going anywhere near my home was to leave at eight-thirty on Saturday morning. There would be one transfer and the bus would arrive at two-thirty P.M. Six hours to take me one hundred and ten miles to a town fifteen miles from home.

A domino was falling; I could feel it. I placed my hands on the counter and spread my legs to steady myself. There were four dots showing on the domino; two on each half.

Thirty minutes later Sheila came into the room to find me loading the dishwasher. "You didn't need to do that Sammy."

I turned. She looked like she had just gotten out of the shower. Her hair was bundled up to the back of her head, and held together there by a small net. Her face was clean and shiny, devoid of makeup. She was wearing a short robe that extended just below the knees. It was obvious she hadn't expected to find me in the kitchen.

"I came to use the phone and saw it needed to be done," I said to explain my presence in her kitchen.

She busied herself putting a few things away. "Did he take his heavy sleeping bag?"

"Yes ma'am," I said, remembering I had seen Charlie carrying a sleeping bag. I assumed it was heavy.

She was partially bent over when she turned her head to look at me. "Please don't do that."

"What?" I asked, thinking she had caught me watching her ass.

"Please don't call me ma'am."

We smiled at each other. She straightened and did the strangest thing. She placed her hands on the counter and spread her legs to steady herself, exactly the way I had done after I discovered how long it was going to take me to get home.

"There's a bus leaving at eight-thirty in the morning. I'll take a taxi to the bus station," I said.

Sheila removed her hands from the counter and stared seriously at me. "You'll do no such thing. You'll stay here with me and learn your lines."

How did she know about the play? Charlie must have told her I'd planned to memorize my lines this weekend.

"Don't you also have a paper to work on?"

"Yes, m..." I said, making us both laugh when I nearly slipped and called her ma'am again.

We settled down in the den, I in a leather covered easy chair, with the script for the second production the drama clubs from both Speedwell and Cromwell were doing, her sitting across the room on the leather covered couch, reading a book. We didn't turn on the television until eleven P.M. when Sheila wanted to see the news. We watched Charles Evans Senior and a female anchor deliver the news.

He looked reasonably young and fit, but I was pretty certain he was wearing a hairpiece. Just before he signed off he told his audience that he and his son were going camping. "Come out here, son. Let us see how much you've grown."

Charlie appeared; looking embarrassed to be in front of the camera, and stood next to his proud father. He was three or four inches taller than Charles Senior and of course had all his hair. Sheila switched off the television and turned to me.

"Tell me about it," she said.

I looked at her, questioning, not because I didn't understand what she wanted to know. I was questioning the domino. Was it telling me what I thought it was? I saw it again; my hands on the kitchen counter, her hands on the kitchen counter like two dots; me with my legs spread; her with her legs spread, like two dots at the other end of the domino.

She was about to clarify her request when I spoke. "I'll show you how it happened. I'll tell you and I'll show you."

She sat up straight as I moved to the floor and took a place on my knees in front of her. "Sammy, I don't think ... just tell me ... showing me is not ... necessary."

I touched one of her knees, but pulled my hand back when she flinched.

"It was about midnight when we left the party with two girls. I was the only one who was sober, so I remember everything. Melinda, the girl Charlie found in the high school year book, took him into her bedroom and shut the door. The other girl, Charlene, and I sat in the living room and were watching TV when we heard Melinda shouting at Charlie."

Sheila shifted her body and pulled her legs up, hiding her knees under her robe.

"Charlene and I ran into the bedroom. They were both naked. Melinda was under the covers and Charlie was standing next to the bed. He was wearing a condom, but his cock was limp. Melinda complained that he was too rough with her. She said she wasn't ready."

"Oh my," Sheila said. She moved her legs to get more comfortable, leaving one knee exposed.

"Charlie, you need to make a woman feel good. Start by kissing her on the thigh. His eyes got big and I could see he didn't understand foreplay. He was going to blow his big opportunity. I think Charlene could see it too. I suggested that we show Charlie what he needed to do.

At first she was reluctant, but I appealed to her desire to help. She took her jeans off and got on the bed, saying she absolutely refused to remove her panties. I started by kissing her knee, first the left one and then the right one."

"Sammy, I told you we can't do this," Sheila protested when I leaned in and kissed her left knee.

"I said I would show you and tell you. Do you want to hear about it or not?"

Sheila nodded her head, slightly before adding, "My panties stay on?"

"Your panties stay on," I agreed with her and proceeded to kiss her inner thigh.

"What was Charlie doing?" Sheila asked.

"Oh, he was back on the bed and kissing Melinda's inner thighs."

I inched my lips up Sheila's thighs, kissing first one and then the other. When I looked up she seemed to understand that Charlene's legs were bare. Sheila lifted the bottom of her nightgown. I could see the crotch of her panties. "I'm not going to take off my panties," she reminded me. I nodded my understanding and went back to kissing her other thigh. The skin was smooth without a trace of hair. The muscles in her legs contracted in reaction to each touch of my lips and I noticed her eyes were closed.

"Every so often I would look over at Charlie to see if he was keeping up with me and discovered he was getting ahead of me. Melinda's legs were open and he was very near her pussy. He looked over at me as if he needed direction. I moved my lips up Charlene's thigh and kissed her panty covered pussy."

Sheila took the cue and opened her legs enough for me to fit my head lower between them. She jumped when my tongue swiped her slit, indenting the crotch of her panties into the crease. Her legs opened wide and she let a moan escape her lips. "Please," she whispered.

"Charlie was really getting into it. I nodded my encouragement when he kissed Melinda's pussy. He watched me run my tongue up the Charlene's slit and he did the same, making Melinda moan. This did more to encourage him than any direction I could have given him, so I licked Charlene once more and stopped to watch Charlie. He was licking furiously now and having a hard time keeping Melinda's ass in one place. She had both hands on his head and was flouncing around on the bed."

As I spoke I was watching Sheila. The crotch of her panties was wet and she was breathing through her mouth.

"I was ready to ask Charlene to move the crotch of her panties so I could lick her pussy," I said, looking up at Sheila to get her reaction. She opened her eyes, briefly before closing them, sighing and pulling the crotch of her panties to the side. This action halted my description of Charlie's first time. It would have to wait to be told. I concentrated on pleasing Sheila.

The blond hair around her pussy lips was moist and matted. "Please," she whispered when I ran my tongue from the bottom of the slit up to the top. "Please," she whispered when I buried my tongue between her lips and wiggled it. "Please," she said when my tongue found her clit, circling it in a clockwise motion, stopping when she lifted my head. She held my head and we waited for her to catch her breath. Her pussy was reeking with a sweet, captivating fragrance. When she released my head and pulled her panty crotch to the side, I resumed the attention to her clit, rotating around the little nubbin in a counter-clockwise motion, stopping again when she lifted my head and continuing this sequence until she pushed me away and said, "Please."