Chapter 24: Sammy's in love

Naturally, I called Kelley and Suzanne to tell them about my harrowing experience on the road, but I didn't get a chance to talk to Marcie until the next afternoon when she returned to school. She and Charlie were the only ones I told about coming back to school early and hearing Gladys exclaim how Victor missed the landing strip and landed in the drink.

Marcie thought it was hilarious and I had to admit that I was feeling the same way. As I explained to her, "I was letting my mind play tricks with me, thinking that I could continue seeing Gladys on Friday nights without breaking my promise to Kelley that she would be my number twenty-five. This way I won't need to feel guilty about deceiving her."

Marcie admonished me for concocting a devious plan, but then she congratulated me for my decision to meet Kelley with a clear conscience I told her about Kelley's parents' Florida home and our plan to meet there during spring break.

For once she seemed uninterested in my plans and made an excuse about needing to get organized for school the next day.

Damn, I thought she wanted to hear everything I did or planned to do. I was beginning to regret sending her my list of sexual partners.

Charlie came in whistling and wanting to tell me about his time at home. He and Debra were making plans for her to come to Pontiac for a visit in February and again at spring break.

I told him about coming back early and overhearing Gladys and Victor in my room. Charlie kidded me unmercifully, saying I must be sexually inadequate to let a freshman take my girl away. I had to agree with him. Nothing like that had happened to me since I walked into the bedroom at one of the cottages and found Cindy on her hands and knees with Foster fucking her from behind. I didn't laugh that time. I took his girlfriend into the other bedroom and gave her some of the same treatment Foster was giving Cindy.

Victor wouldn't look at me in drafting class the next day. I had to seek him out and assure him that I wasn't angry.

"I'm sorry," he said, sheepishly.

"Was that your first time?"

After staring at the floor for several seconds, he nodded, "Yes."

"Congratulations, you couldn't have had a better teacher."

He started to explain how it happened, as if there was a reasonable explanation for fucking another guy's girlfriend. I waived him off, telling him I knew he wasn't the instigator.

"It won't happen again," he said.

"Why not? Don't stop on my account."

Actually, it worked out for the best. Gladys agreed to continue doing my laundry and I benefited another way; my conscience was clear.

In my mail that day was a note from Hilda, Trisha's cousin, who had driven me to my motel after the wedding reception. She wrote that Trisha had given her my address and she hoped I didn't have a bad hangover when I had woken up the next morning. 'HHH' was embossed at the top of the stationary. I wrote back, saying that I didn't have a hangover and thanked her for making sure I had made it to my motel room. I ended my note by telling her how I almost mistook her for Trisha.

Kelley soon caught on to my schedule and timed her telephone calls during slack times. She felt that we should leave no stone unturned and devoted one three hour conversation to telling me everything about Vincent Morris, the guy she swore never to forget. By the time we hung up I felt like I had heard everything about Vince from the way his goatee tickled her to the birthmark shaped like a coffee mug on his left shoulder.

"The cup always looked like it had steam coming out of it," she said, dreamily.

"Did Vince drink coffee?"

"He never touched the stuff. That's what I love about you, Sammy. We have the same tastes and if I tell you I like something, you're not afraid to try it."

I didn't remember trying anything at her suggestion, but I didn't ask for an example. "What went wrong between you?"

"You see, that's something else I love about you, Sammy. You asked me right off how many children I wanted. Vincent didn't have a soft side."

"I take it he didn't want children?"

"He wouldn't say."

Something was tickling a hair on the back of my neck, like it was trying to tell me something. Had she assumed that I wanted children because I asked how many she wanted? Was she always this aggressive, talking about marriage and children before she became acquainted with the guy? Did that have something to do with Vincent walking away from her?

I had heard enough about Vincent and was glad when she changed the subject.

"I'm looking forward to spring break," she said at the end of every phone call.

"You always sound like a cat purring when you say that."

"That's how I feel, like a lazy pussy, licking my fur clean."

"I can do that for you," I offered.

"Sammy, are you trying to turn this subject to something sexual?"

"Is that how it sounds to you?"

"I'm not accusing you. It's something we should discuss before spring break."

"Okay, what would you like to discuss?"

"We need to know each other's preferences, what we like and dislike."

I wanted to ask her 'what's not to like about sex?' But by the time we got around to talking about sexual preferences we had discussed a myriad of other subjects.

Debra Simmons arrived on Valentine's Day and stayed the weekend with us. Accidentally, I saw her naked and as she was leaving I told her she was looking good. She blushed and told me I had excellent eyesight.

I hired Skip to help deliver study desks to West Pontiac on Saturdays. Business was brisk, increasing K.O.'s college fund weekly. Orders for the knock-down version were coming in at a rate that required Luke to rent additional space where he set up a final assembly and finishing operation.

Victor was working all day on Saturday and after class on Thursday and Friday afternoon, necessitating that he sack out on my couch three nights per week. Charlie complained, saying that Victor should pay some of the rent. I resisted charging Victor, reminding Charlie how tough it had been for him before Sheila remarried and his step-dad gave him a generous allowance.

This appeased Charlie and we lived in harmony until I came in one Thursday night after my run and found Victor and Gladys in the shower together.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy," Gladys said, looking down at my crotch. "I'll take care of you. Vic won't mind, will you?" she asked, paying more attention to my crotch than how Victor was reacting to her offer. He stammered, saying he didn't mind.

As I explained to Marcie when I talked to her on Saturday, "Gladys thought I was turned on because she was naked. I was pissed because they had used all the hot water."

"The cold shower probably did you good," Marcie quipped.

"Wait until Kelley hears about me turning down Gladys' offer," I boasted.

"Don't tell her," Marcie warned.

"Why shouldn't I? I tell her everything."

"Because, if you tell her you have opportunities she will become concerned that you won't be able say 'no' next time. You'll have to reassure her constantly."

"Perhaps you're right, but I don't like keeping secrets. She tells me everything."

"Are you sure she tells you everything?" Marcie asked.

"You tell me everything, don't' you?"

"Yes, but I'm your buddy, not your girlfriend," she giggled before saying goodbye.

One of the subjects Kelley wanted to discuss was Becky. "You said you will never be over her. Does that mean you'll pine for Becky even after we're married or you're married to someone else?"

She was bringing up the subject of marriage more often and frankly, it bothered me. "I'm sure you will be able to make me forget about Becky. The question is; will I be able to make you forget about Vincent?" I asked, turning the tables on her.

"Do you dream about her?"

"No."

"Do you compare us? Do you think about her when you're kissing me?"

"No."

"Then what makes you think you'll never be over her?" Kelley asked, frustration creeping into her voice.

"I remember things that happened the year we were together; little things come to me when I'm running."

"Only when you're running?"

"Sometimes I see her when I'm alone in the car and sometimes I see her in the mirror when I'm shaving."

"You'll have to stop running and you'll have to stop driving when you're alone," she laughed.

As spring break approached she began reminding me of things she wanted me to bring, like my golf clubs and a tennis racket. We still hadn't talked about sexual preferences, making me wonder if we were going to play golf and tennis all week.

"Don't forget to bring condoms," she said on February the twenty-ninth. It was to be the last time we would talk before we were to meet on Friday, March the sixth.

"We haven't talked about sexual preferences," I reminded her.

"We don't need to. I have you pegged as a sexual humanitarian."

"I don't know what that is."

"When I asked you to tell me about the women on your list you gave the same answer for all of them. They were birds with a broken wing and you were healing them. You depicted yourself as an unselfish lover, attending to her needs. Is that what you do, Sammy, provide a service?"

There was a patronizing tone to her voice that told me why I was to take my clubs and racket. What were the condoms for?

"I would still like to know what you like or dislike."

"We have a whole week, Sammy," she said, duh-like, as if I would have plenty of time to find out what she liked and disliked.

"A whole week?" I whispered to myself, wondering how I would get through seven days of being so distracted by her beauty that it would make me lose every game we played.

"Say that again," Kelley commanded.

"Say what?"

"Not like that, whisper something in your sexy voice."

"I don't have a sexy voice," I whispered.

"Whisper to me." There was such an earnest urgency in her voice that I felt compelled to comply.

"Your delicate ear deserves to be caressed by mellow tones."

Seconds passed before she spoke. "Leave your clubs at home. I want you to record something sexy to put me to sleep at night. Will you write it or should I?"

"I'll write it," I offered in a whisper that made Kelley gasp.

"Don't forget your swimsuit," she said in a raspy voice as she hung up.

What would I record? I had often used my old standby: The Sick Child, and had even whispered it to Shirley. But I needed something romantic. We were at the end of the second quarter and with finals I didn't have time to spare. I decided to wait until I was on the plane to write a few lines.

On Thursday night, Erica gave me my unconditional release from my commitment to help her. She waited until after the debate to tell me. We were parked in front of her house.

"You've been a good sport about this, Sammy."

"Yes," I said, waiting for the 'But' to follow.

"It worked. Roger asked me for a date."

"Is that what this was about? I thought the moderator was giving you a hard time."

"She was, but not any more, not since Roger let it be known that he's taking me to dinner next week. He thinks he's taking me away from you ... so ... would you mind making yourself scarce?"

I laughed and was struck by a thought. "What about Margo? Does she know?"

"She's going to be away. That's what makes the timing perfect," Erica said, without revealing if Margo knew about the date with Roger.

"That's great!" I said, happy to be free from my Thursday night obligation to accompany Erica to the debates. Still, I couldn't condone her being less than honest with her partner. Who was I kidding? Just because I was keeping my promise to Kelley that she would be my number twenty-five didn't suddenly make me all goodie-goodie.

"Are you going to be all right with this, Sammy? You don't mind letting Roger think he's taking me away from you, do you?"

I wanted to laugh, but her expression was sincere, like she was concerned my feelings would be hurt. "I'm meeting my girlfriend in Florida on Friday," I said, more to ease Erica's mind than to boast.

"That's wonderful. I know you've been lonely these past few weeks. May I ask something personal?"

"Sure," I said, amused at her polite tact at getting to the point.

"Are you ... intimate?"

"I think we will be. She thinks my voice is sexy."

Erica frowned, like she didn't agree with Kelley about my voice being sexy. "Oh, Sammy, you've got to do more than talk to her. Let me give you a pointer?"

It was getting late and I had two exams the next day. "Okay," I said, mentally canceling my run.

"Males give oral very differently than females do. Both are good but females are better at oral with another female because we know what we like. Margo and I lick each other with fluttering tongues."

Erica's stuck out her tongue and demonstrated the technique for me. I tried emulating her and she nodded approvingly. She then pushed her skirt up.

"We do it for a few seconds then use the flat of our hand to pat the opening," she said, patting her panty covered pussy and forming an 'O' with her mouth to show me how good it felt.

"This stimulates a girl much faster than long licks. A finger up the rectum is awesome while being licked. We only penetrate when the first orgasm takes place. Sliding fingers with the tips upward is much better than jamming it in with knuckles up. It is not only more erotic, but it keeps us from being scratched up there."

She stopped talking and lowered her skirt to cover her legs.

"Thanks, Erica. That was very helpful," I said.

"Good luck, Sammy. I have to go in now," she said, sounding excited, like she had worked herself up. She jumped out of the car and ran to her front door.

What Erica had said kept running though my mind as I moved from my first exam to lunch and back to a classroom for the last exam of the quarter. What she was proposing, fluttering rather than long-licking, was contrary to what I had been taught by Alice. I had always been a long-licker, the longer the better and it had always achieved the desired results. Erica hadn't said anything about how to treat the clitoris either. God, it was hard keeping my mind on the exam questions.

Kelley was already there and I couldn't wait to get to Florida. But since there were no flights available on Friday afternoon, I would have to wait until the next morning.

Charlie went to the airport to pick up Debra Simmons and Victor joined us for dinner in the apartment. I made spaghetti and meatballs and opened a bottle of wine. Debra was excited about the possibility of her transferring to Pontiac College for her senior year. Saying Charlie was excited about her transferring would have been putting it mildly.