Chapter 12: Shirley teaches Sammy a new language

Shirley fell asleep only minutes after the small plane left the ground. I closed the book I had started to read and watched her sleep, recalling the night before. She looked sweet and innocent, wearing jeans, sneakers, and a T-shirt with a sweater over it.

The sweater was thin and tight fitting, outlining the same breasts she had pushed together to hold my cock. Her lips, the same lips that had sucked my cock were devoid of the dark lip gloss she had worn the night before.

The blowjob had been a surprise. What made her do it? Did she enjoy it as much as I did? Was it done to prove her love for me?

She had said that we could improve it, which I took to mean she was going to try it again. I was certainly up for that but the question came back to me; did she enjoy doing it?

I liked going down on her and she liked having me do it. I enjoyed giving her pleasure but I also liked seeing her reaction. Did she get that same thrill from watching the stunned expression on my face when I pumped her mouth full of cum?

We hadn't had a chance to talk about it yet but it was something I wanted to do. This was an important step in our relationship and I needed to know how she felt about it. Was sixty-nine in our future?

I leaned back in my seat and reflected on our trip. Was it all for naught? I didn't think so. Even if Heather had stretched the truth about our mother's headaches she was still right to insist that I pay them a visit. I owed them that much.

My mom seemed to derive pleasure from making dinner for us and she definitely enjoyed the next evening out and this morning's brunch at the hotel.

I was glad we made the trip. Seeing Mr. Olsen and Judge Slocum again was fun and showing Shirley my hometown was exciting even if we only drove by my friend's houses. She must have seen the thrill I got from driving by Becky's house.

On the minus side was seeing Mr. Avella again and being reminded how he still tried to take advantage of my popularity for his own gain.

Also, there was the Freddy Connors issue. I tried to put it out of my mind that my sister was taking the loser seriously. She was becoming a disappointment to me by lying about our mother's condition in order to entice me to make the trip. What had she gained from my being there? I was surprised that she hadn't asked me for money.

Surely, she could do better than Freddy Connors. She had excused herself twice from the brunch table, I suspected, to visit the bellhop at his station next to the elevator.

One bright spot was seeing the baby. I guess what I saw in K.O. was exactly what I wanted to see, but to me he was the smartest nine-month old kid in the universe. Was he destined for the same fate as me? I hoped he would find his own burr and escape as I had.

Now, with the visit behind us we were headed back to school and new challenges.

Next on my agenda was removing the annoyance Darien was creating in Shirley's life. How could it not bother her? Why didn't she tell me about his letters? The one letter I had read stated that he had taped their moments of intimacy. That alone must be disconcerting to her. And more recently he had been making telephone calls to her dorm room.

Well, if she wasn't going to tell me about Darien's harassment, I wasn't going to tell her that I was going to take action to stop it.

Shirley woke with a start when the plane's wheels touched down on the runway. She reached for my hand and gripped it tightly until we came to a stop.

"You must have been tired."

She admitted that she hadn't slept well the night before and this made me wonder if it was Darien's letters that were keeping her awake. Could she have been thinking about how she could improve on her blow-job technique?

On the drive from the airport to the apartment, I must have thanked her three times for making the trip with me.

"It was fun. We should get away more often," she said.

"Want to go someplace next weekend?" I asked, knowing what she would say. There was no way I would take her with me to confront Darien.

"I promised Olivia I would work all day on Saturday but I was wondering if we could play golf before the weather turns too cold."

"That's a good idea. I'll see if we can get an early tee-time on Sunday and then we can have lunch someplace nice."

Her response came in a smile of approval and, that settled, we directed our attention to the week ahead by doing the food shopping and then settling down to study until it was time for bed.

The week went by quickly. One of the few highlights came in accounting class when Doctor Mercer returned the quiz papers. 'Good Job' was written in red ink next to the 'A'.

Monday afternoon I picked up a new workout partner. Joe, from the breakfast group, admitted that it was Cheryl Lynn's idea for him to firm up his abdomen. It was obvious to me that things were going well between them but I didn't remark about something that personal. Did she really ask him to get rid of his love handles?

By Tuesday evening I was noticing the benefits of Angie's absence. Charlie was like a new person, relaxed and having fun for a change. He cheerfully took over the task of cleaning up the kitchen after our evening meal. Also, we didn't have to wait for Angie to finish her nightly bath before we could use the bathroom.

Shirley was hesitant when I suggested we go out for a run.

"Only if you agree to shower separately?"

"Okay," I said, understanding that she wasn't ready for sex yet.

Like the previous week, we met Doctor Mercer at about the same spot as before, only this time we were running in the same direction. We spoke, briefly acknowledging one another before falling in four-abreast down the middle of the street.

"Grace, this is Mr. Oldham. He's in my eight o'clock Accounting one-o-one class."

I nodded to the young lady, wondering if she was his wife or girlfriend or just his jogging partner.

"Shirley, this is Doctor Mercer, my accounting professor," I said, not divulging if she was my wife, my girlfriend or my jogging partner.

Doctor Mercer and Shirley exchanged pleasantries and we continued to jog at the same pace until he and Grace veered off to the right. "See you in class, Mr. Oldham."

"Yes Sir," I answered.

"They must live on that street," Shirley speculated.

"Yeah, or he wanted to go that way because he couldn't keep up with us," I laughed.

We showered separately and I noticed that Shirley took an unusually long time.

"Do you remember the other day in the Laundromat?" she asked when she came to bed.

"Yes," I said, recalling her saying that she had said she had something to tell me.

"Maybe we can find some time to be alone and talk this weekend."

I pictured us in the middle of a fairway, alone until a foursome wanted to play through. From the way she was clinging to me I knew this wasn't the time to describe my thoughts. She definitely had something serious to discuss. I wished she would tell me what was on her mind but instead, "We'll find time to talk," I assured her.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she whispered and I felt her body relax.

"You're welcome."

I felt her body tense. "There's something else."

I waited and when she didn't continue, "What is it?"

"Tammy says, well, we were talking about... well, Tammy was giving me some tips on giving head and..."

"Tammy gave you tips on giving... is that how you learned to do it so well?" I asked, trying hard not to think of Tammy on her knees, sucking a guy's cock.

"She says Jason put his hand on the back of her head. He said it was to give her encouragement but she says it made her feel used."

"Did she tell him not to do it?"

"She didn't mind. She's naturally submissive but we're different. I don't want to feel used."

I rubbed her back and felt her relax, like she was ready for sleep. "I would never do that to you."

She snuggled close and whispered, "I know you wouldn't, sweetheart."

The next day Doctor Mercer announced that our accounting class was scheduled to play a flag football game.

"How many want to play?" His enthusiasm was infectious, causing every male in the class to raise his hand.

"That's great! Who played high school football? Show of hands, please."

I raised my hand and saw that two others admitting to having played ball in high school.

Doctor Mercer looked pleased. "We'll practice this Saturday and get ready for our first game the following week," he said as he glanced at his notes, ready to begin his lecture.

"Yes, Mr. Oldham?" he asked when he saw my hand go up.

"I'm going to be out of town on Saturday, Sir."

Doctor Mercer's face showed the kind of irritation capable of turning ice to boiling water, instantly. "See me after class, Mr. Oldham."

"Yes Sir," I said and felt the critical eyes of my classmates label me a traitor.

He didn't call on me that day. In fact, he avoided me as if I weren't there until the class was over, then he led the way to his office.

"Is this another family emergency, Mr. Oldham?" he asked as he motioned for me to take the only visitor's chair.

"No Sir," I answered, looking around the cubbyhole-sized room. Except for a large print, depicting the Zodiac, the walls were bare.

"Mr. Oldham, since Pontiac College doesn't participate in organized sports, it places an enormous amount of emphasis on the intramural program as a substitute. While participation is not mandatory, it's encouraged. You're the only member of the class who is going to be absent."

"I have something that I need to take care of on Saturday but I'll be here for the game, Sir." I'll be dammed if I was going to tell him about Darien and why I was going to be away on Saturday.

His expression told me my answer didn't suit him. He shook his head. "Practice is imperative. The rules have changed since last year."

"But..." I hesitated; afraid I would laugh at the absurdity of rules being so fucking important.

"Yes, Mr. Oldham?"

"Every kid has played touch football," I said, stopping before I broke up laughing.

"This isn't touch, its flag football," Doctor Mercer said, excitedly opening a desk drawer. He offered me a single sheet of paper. "Study the rules and be ready to play, Mr. Oldham. I assure you that you won't start the game but I'll put you in if your classmates don't lynch you first."

I suppose he expected me to find his remark humorous but I was preoccupied with the Zodiac. He caught me gazing at the wall poster.

"My... it's a gift from Grace. You met her last night," he said, softening.

"Thank you, Sir," I said, holding up the flag football rules as I left his office.

I read the rules while waiting for Sociology class to begin. Other than stipulating the color of the flag and how far it was to extend out of the player's back pocket, the game was no different than rules we used the year before. I wondered if Doctor Mercer had ever played touch football. I knew he had never worn pads and played in a real game. But still, he was a runner and I had to respect him for that. Grace wasn't bad looking either.

I hid the rules in my backpack so Shirley wouldn't see them. I couldn't let her know that missing the Saturday practice had gotten me into trouble with Doctor Mercer. Was I being less than honest with her? Yes, but it was a tradeoff; I was doing it for her.

At lunch I invited Kent and Skip for pizza on Friday night. Before he accepted the invitation he asked if Amy and Laura were welcome. I didn't hesitate to say the girls would be welcome, but when Amy joined us I had second thoughts.

Amy's smile lit up the roomwhen Kent told her about my invitation.

"Amy, I remember you have something against alcohol. Are you going to be annoyed if we have beer with the pizza?"

She frowned. "My brother was killed in an automobile accident last year. I promised my parents I will not drink beer or any alcohol."

Her timid explanation, almost apologetic, made me feel sorry for her. She hadn't said that alcohol was involved in the accident but one had to assume it played a part.

We sat thoughtfully silent, none of us eating. I was about to remind her that beer had been served at Kent's party when Amy brightened. "I prefer Pepsi but Coke's okay too."

Kent breathed a sigh of relief, grinning adoringly at his new girlfriend. "Who's old enough to buy beer, Shirley?"

"No, she won't be twenty-one until February but her roommate is twenty-one. I'll ask Tammy to buy us some beer."

That settled we started to eat. Well, I ate my lunch. Kent and Amy just grinned at each other.

At the gym that afternoon, Mitch introduced a new girl to Joe and I, asking if we would help her get started. What could we say? The girl was standing right there.

Julie was small and timid. She watched as we started our routine on the bicycles, not venturing to mount one until I insisted that she try. By the time we took turns on the stair climber she was becoming more daring.

It was obvious that she hadn't worked out before and I wondered what prompted her to begin now but didn't ask.

"We work out Monday, Wednesday and Friday," I informed her as we moved to the rowing machines.

"Thanks guys, for being patient with me," she said when it was time to leave.

"I'll show you where the showers are," Joe offered. "Sammy doesn't shower."

Julie looked at me, questioning.

"The men's shower is on the other side of the wall from the women. I get embarrassed by some of the things you girls say," I explained and laughed when Julie's eyes widened.

"See you Friday?" she asked, smiling at me when she discovered I was joking about the shower.

I couldn't help but smile on my run to the apartment. Joe had paid more attention to Julie than his workout. Would Cheryl Lynn regret sending him to the gym to melt his love handles away?

The apartment was empty. I showered quickly and went to the kitchen to start dinner, per Shirley's instructions of course. She left specific directions as to how long to cook the rice, when to remove the chicken breasts from the oven and which vegetables to prepare. She came through the door at five past six, displaying a grin that told me this was going to be an interesting evening.

I half listened to Charlie and Shirley discuss the Psychology class he was taking. She answered his questions between taking small bites of chicken, all while playfully poking my leg with her foot.