Chapter 1: Sammy's First week at home

Marcie's call woke me.

"Suzanne warned me that you wouldn't talk to me," she began before I said anything.

My grunt must have encouraged her. "But I knew different," she continued as I walked into the bathroom. "I've been calling since Saturday afternoon and I know you got my messages. What's wrong, Sammy? What's that sound? Are you ... pissing?"

"You never fail to make me laugh," I said, holding the phone against my ear in my right hand and using my left hand to guide the stream into the water below.

"Were you ever going to call me or were you going to make me worry about you?"

"I should have returned your calls."

"What happened?"

"I fucked up?"

"So ... what's new? What did you do this time?"

"I gave Kelley the password to my journal and she found out that I had forgotten to name someone on my list. Apparently, she doesn't like being number twenty-six," I said, relieved, almost gleeful that I had been able to put my most recent 'fuck up' into words.

Marcie was quiet for a few seconds. I knew she had heard the toilet flush and the water running in the sink. I looked into the mirror and realized this was the longest I had gone without shaving since last year when I had the flu. Oh well, four days didn't look too bad; I decided to put it off for another day.

She finally broke the silence. "Guess who I saw?"

"Who?" I asked, happy to hear her move on without quizzing me as to the girl's name I had left off my list or asking how it could let it happen.

"You remember Adam Corning? He and some friends came to a party at one of the houses and guess what? He remembered me."

There was a chipper tone in her voice that I hadn't heard in ages.

Of course I remembered Adam Corning. He'd played center and was captain of offense when I was captain of defense our senior year at C.M.A. He was also the student commander, who had bested me in every measurable way, scholastically, athletically and politically. He never failed to excel in the classroom, on the football field and he had a way about him that drew people to him.

We were promoted to Cadet Major the same day; only his promotion was announced during morning formation while I had to wait until someone told me to check the bulletin board to learn that I had also been promoted.

"What's he doing now?" I asked, showing mild interest.

"He's at Harvard. We talked the longest time. He asked about you."

So what? "Am I the only thing you talked about?"

A long silence followed before Marcie said, "No, he's called me twice since I got home. He's coming to see me this Saturday."

What did she expect me to say? 'That's great, Marcie? Watch out for him, Marcie?' I remembered that his old man was a lawyer. "What's his major, pre-law?"

"Yes, he's planning to remain at Harvard for his graduate work."

Adam Corning and I were never close. Our relationship was strictly business, co-captains of the football team, senior advisors on the Commandant's staff and competitors in every respect. I always considered him the consummate insider. I recalled one time on the school bus when he told us why the Colonel would never allow a student to advance beyond the rank of Major. It had been the Colonel's rank when he retired from the army and he didn't want a high school student to achieve a higher rank in a mere four years. Lieutenant Colonel had been bestowed upon him by the school when he became the Commandant at C.M.A.

"Do you expect something to come of this?" I asked, suddenly concerned that she was putting too much stock in a casual meeting and a couple of telephone calls.

"I hope so," she answered,

"Where's he taking you?"

"He's not taking me anyplace. He says he wants to meet my family so I invited him to come for lunch. It's quite a distance for him to drive, you know?"

Adam Corning was up to his old tricks, sucking up to the parents. Wait until he meets Bernard, I thought. "Did he ever dance with you after a football game?"

"No, but he apologized for not dancing with me. He said he always admired you for the way you assigned cadets to dance with me."

"I NEVER did that! It wasn't that way at all," I corrected her. "Every Cadet wanted to dance with you. All I did was to control which ones were 'permitted' to dance with you, Miss Cochran."

"My sweet Sammy. You've always been my protector. Are you going to be okay until Kelley calls?"

"I don't expect her to call. She was pretty pissed on the way to the airport."

"She'll call," Marcie predicted. I cursed myself later for letting her say goodbye without my telling her to have a good time on Saturday.

I got dressed in cut-off sweats and went downstairs. Penelope wanted to make me something to eat, but I settled for toast and coffee. After chatting with her for a few minutes, I went across the street and walked around the park. There were a few people playing tennis so I sat on a bench and watched them play.

My thoughts of Kelley, how she had insisted that I take her to the airport on Friday afternoon, making me drive home alone on Saturday, were interrupted by a body blocking my view of the courts.

"Sammy, don't you remember me?" the kid asked.

"Curtis Jones? How old are you?" I asked, quickly recalling that Doctor Koskowski's son was eleven three summers before when I took him to little league games.

"Fourteen," he said, proudly extending to his full height. He had grown taller and slimmed down. I invited him to have a seat and we talked about his parents, school, football and girls.

"Are you still running?"

He nodded and I saw that he was pondering something. "Will you show me how to get ready for football like you did for Josh?"

"I'm not going to be around much this summer, Curtis, but I'll give you a schedule to follow if you promise to do what I tell you."

"I was thinking more about you working me out the same as you did with Josh."

"Like I say, I'm going to be traveling about half the time this summer and the rest of the time I'll be working at the office."

"I never told my mom about you and Cindy fucking on the floor," he proclaimed.

He was beginning to piss me off and I was in no mood to be pissed. Couldn't he see that I hadn't shaved in four days? "Are you trying to blackmail me, Curtis? She wouldn't have believed you, anyway" I said, no longer caring if he told his mother about his catching Cindy and me fucking in front of the television.

"When will Josh be home?" he asked, changing his tactic.

"Josh is staying at school this summer. He and a friend are working to save money for school."

Curtis shuffled around on the bench, like a boxer, looking for his opponent's weakness. "I really want to play. That's how you get girls, right?"

I didn't know if he was pleading for help or appealing to my sense of humor, but it worked.

"Be here at nine A.M. tomorrow. Dress like I'm dressed now. I'll put you through some drills that you can do alone. After that you're on your own, except Saturday mornings when I'll check your progress. Tell your parents what we're up to."

"Thanks, Sammy. I'll do whatever you tell me to do," Curtis said, sounding truly grateful.

I got up. "Curtis?"

"Yes, Sammy?"

"Don't ever try to pull that bullshit with me again. Do you understand?"

"I won't," he said, looking at his feet.

"I'll see you here tomorrow," I said as I walked away.

Damn, why doesn't Percy Jones take more of an interest in his kid? I wondered if Doctor Koskowski put him up to coming to me for help or if it was Percy's idea. It might be fun to show him the ropes, though. I'll wear the little shit out, I thought as I crossed the street to the house.

After three days of eating, sleeping and feeling sorry for myself, I needed something to do, so I headed for the garage to unpack my car. I wasn't thinking clearly when I left Pontiac, and since I was unable to decide if I should bring Kelley's belongings or leave them in the apartment, some of her stuff had made its way into the car and some had been left behind. Her computer was one of the items that I'd brought with me.

It took several trips to carry my stuff upstairs, and each time I returned to the garage I looked at Kelley's things, wondering if I should deliver them to her house. Should I call her and find out what to do with her things? No, she doesn't need any of them; Kelley had duplicates of everything. That much I knew. I closed the garage door and was halfway up the back stairs when an idea struck me. Send an email; that way she won't have to talk to me if she doesn't want to.

I rushed back to the car and carried the components to her computer into the sunroom where I plugged them in. Penelope came into the room and saw me sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"Suzanne called and said something came up at work. She's not going to be able to keep your date to play golf."

"Oh," I said, totally absorbed with what I was doing. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Penelope shake her head and disappear.

The first thing I noticed as the computer booted was a folder entitled, 'My Journal'.

Forgetting about sending her a mail message, I moved the curser to, 'My Journal'. Wouldn't you know; it was password protected. What's her password? I tried the password she used for her company's network. It didn't work. What's her fucking password?

Intrigued by the words, 'My Journal' I carried the computer components up to my room, intending to break the 'code'. I was making my second trip when Penelope asked if I wanted something for lunch. I told her yes, that I would come downstairs in a few minutes.

Thirty minutes later I looked up from the computer screen to see Penelope at my door. "Suzanne will have a yellow canary if she comes home and finds those boxes in the sunroom, Sammy."

"A yellow canary? Oh, this is taking longer than I thought it would," I said, bummed at not being about to open the folder.

"Is a sandwich all right? I'll bring it upstairs if you like?"

"Thanks, Penelope. That would be great!" I said, already trying another word.

I was cursing the screen when she came back with a sandwich, corned beef and provolone cheese on dark rye with a dill pickle and large glass of milk. "I remembered that you like mustard. I hope it's not too much," Penelope said as she looked for a place to set the plate and glass.

I took the plate and glass from her, took a bite of the sandwich and told her it was the right amount of mustard. "Thanks, Penelope," I said, my attention drawn to the screen. She shook her head and left the room.

I don't remember eating the sandwich and pickle or drinking the milk, but at one-thirty, when Suzanne stuck her head in the room to say hello, the plate and glass were empty and I was still trying to break the password puzzle.

"Sammy, did you forget to bring your razor home?" Suzanne asked.

"I remembered to pack my razor," I assured her, hoping she would leave me to my project of trying to decode Kelley's password.

"I hope you shave before your dental appointment tomorrow."

This caught my attention. "What time?"

"It's at ten A.M., don't you pay any attention to the schedule I gave you?"

"Ten A.M.?" I asked, remembering I had told Curtis to meet me at the park at nine.

Suzanne spotted my schedule on the desk and circled both the appointment to have my teeth cleaned and my appointment to see the doctor in the afternoon. "Now you won't forget, will you?" she asked and before I could answer, she added, "please shave before you go."

"I thought you got tied up at work?" I asked, wondering if she still wanted to play golf.

"It was a last minute luncheon appointment," she explained without elaborating.

I thought she was going to leave me alone, but I was wrong. Suzanne stood behind me and looked at the computer screen. "What's this?" she asked.

"It's Kelley's computer. I'm trying to crack her password so I can read her journal," I said, so consumed in thought that I had spoken without thinking.

Suzanne put her hand on my shoulder, patted once, like she was measuring her approach and then, SMACK, like she was driving the ball off the tee. "Don't you think she would have given you her password if she'd wanted you to read her private thoughts? How would you feel if she read your journal?"

"She did. That's what got me into trouble with her."

Suzann patted my shoulder again and I braced myself for another shot. It didn't come. She patted me again and leaned down to give me a peck on my whiskered cheek. "Oh," she said, before walking toward the door. I thought again that she was leaving when she turned.

"She's extremely vain. Try words like 'green-eyes' or 'dimple' or 'my-shit-don't-stink', words that make her feel superior."

"SUZ," I yelled, but she was already out the door and down the hall.

Her suggestions sounded too complicated. Knowing Kelley, the word I was seeking was something she felt strongly about, something simple, yet meaningful to her. I remembered an event from one of her visits to Pontiac that she often scolded me for, but always with a tone of fondness.

It happened one afternoon when I returned to the apartment from playing tennis, knowing she would be upset because I was late. She was standing in the kitchen, dressed for travel. I'll never forget the shocked look on her face when she saw me. It was one of stunned disbelief. For once, Kelley's voice failed her, for about three seconds.

"You're dripping sweat on the floor and you probably stink!"

She was right; I did stink and until I saw the anger in her eyes, I'd intended to take a shower. "Would you like to smell me?" I asked, raising my arm, dropping it immediately because the stench was too strong for even me.

"Don't come near me," Kelley said, backing away, into the living room. Was she wearing the short skirt to attract attention on the flight home? Her bare legs were certainly attracting my attention. Her blouse was a shade lighter than her skirt, open at the neck to reveal a light green bra. This was one sexy travel outfit. Even her sneakers matched the blouse.

"Take a whiff; it's not so bad," I asserted, enjoying how the anger in her eyes changed to fear as she backed away from me.

"I'll miss my flight," Kelley said, attempting to sound insistent, but failing. She was next to the bedroom door, still backing away from me.

I maintained the distance between us, matching my short steps with hers. She stopped when her leg hit the bed and looked around the room, frightened, searching for another way out. I kept my eyes fixed to hers as I moved to my desk and opened the top drawer.

Seeing what I was doing, Kelley protested. "No, Sammy, there's not enough time."

I retrieved a condom from the drawer and was removing my shirt when she spoke again. "Please, Sammy."

"Take your panties off," I ordered as I stepped out of my tennis shorts and jock strap.

"I won't. You're too ... dirty," Kelley said in a feeble attempt to sound defiant.

I didn't know what was making me act this way, completely out of character. Ordinarily, I would have apologized for being late, but something set me off. Perhaps it was the sexy way she was dressed. Or, it may have been Kelley's assertion that I smelled bad. I moved to within a foot from her and rolled the condom onto my cock. "If you don't, I will," I said, trying to make my voice sound menacing.

"My parents are meeting my flight," she said in her final plea to make me stop.

She looked down at my cock and then peered into my eyes. Two tears were streaming down her face and her hands were shaking from fright. Knowing that she was unable to do it herself, I reached under her skirt and pulled her panties down to her ankles.

"Get on the bed," I ordered and when she complied, I pulled the panties from her ankles, noticing that they were pale green to match her bra.

She sat on the bed, clutching the bottom of the skirt with both hands.

"Open your legs," I said as I poked my head under her skirt.

"I won't," she said, lodging my head between her knees. I could have easily spread her thighs with my hands, but I tried another course of action. I licked the inside of a knee and felt it quiver.

"Stop! Sammy, please!" Her voice sounded frantic.

My head was pinned between her knees, under her skirt. The darkness must have heightened my senses. The pungent aroma emitting from her pussy cancelled the stench coming from under my arms. She was definitely aroused. She just didn't know it yet.

I licked again and felt Kelley's body shudder. Two more licks and I heard her purr as her thighs separated. As I made my way up the inside of her thighs she pulled the hem of her skirt back until I got a view of the sparse pubic hair surrounding her pussy. A tentative lick separated the lips. Another lick, probing, achieved the reaction I was seeking. The heels of her sneakers dug into the bed and her pelvis thrust upward to meet my tongue. I gave her exposed clit some attention before moving into position.

I snuck a look at her face as I penetrated her. Her eyes were closed and her lips were clasp tight, but when I was in all the way in, her eyes flew open. "Sammy," she said as I pulled back and drove my cock inside her hard.

"Sammy," she said again, pulling my head down for a kiss.

Her legs were wrapped around mine, her lips were attached to mine and her arms were around my neck as I fucked her harder than ever before.

"Sammy!" she said when she climaxed the first time. I didn't stop. She repeated my name twice more before I was finished.

"SAMMIE!" she shouted when she felt me shoot a massive load of cum into the condom.

We didn't say anything for five minutes, not until my cock became flaccid.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, Sammy Oldham," she said, looking into my eyes, adoringly.

"I love you, too," I said, happy that she wasn't angry about her soiled clothing.

I got up and stumbled to the bathroom to shower. When I returned, Kelley informed me that she had made arrangements to take an early flight the next morning. She also said something about the excuse she'd given her parents for not making the scheduled flight, but I wasn't listening. Seeing her naked, except for her sneakers, drew my attention.

Thinking back to that afternoon and the night that followed gave me an idea. I entered 'SAMMIE' as the password and the file opened.

Strange, I thought, how telling a password can be. 'SAMMIE', was spelled the same way she had pronounced it when she'd shouted, "SAMMIE!"

Kelley had chosen a password that she associated with an orgasm. She was not usually vocal during sex. I only remembered her shouting 'SAMMIE' once or twice after that time. Was her journal going to be an orgasmic read? I was anxious to find out what she had to say about that day.

When Suzanne called me to dinner I'd read the first part of Kelley's journal twice and planned to read it again before proceeding to the next section.

Dinner was a wonderful creation of baked chicken casserole, rice pilaf, asparagus and biscuits. We ate at the kitchen breakfast bar; helping ourselves to the dishes Penelope had spread out. I had second helpings of everything and excused myself without asking what there was for dessert. Mr. Oldham looked askance when I deposited my plate and silverware in the dishwasher, but Suzanne smiled at me, as if she knew I'd been successful opening the file.

I smiled back at her, pleased to have an understanding ally, certain that she would explain what was occupying my attention to Mr. Oldham after I left the room.

Before going back to Kelley's journal, I called Curtis to tell him to come to the park early. Doctor Koskowski answered and refused to call Curtis to the phone.

"Why are you encouraging him to play football, Sammy?"

"I'm not encouraging him. He asked me to help him and I said I would."

"I'm opposed to his playing that game. Look what it got you. I don't want my son going through life with an ugly scar on his face."

"Curtis seems to think playing football will improve his chances with the ladies," I informed her, no longer caring if she approved of his playing or not.

"He thinks what?" she scoffed. "In the first place, Curtis is too young to be thinking about girls and in the second place, I don't want him losing his temper and permanently disabling some other boy."