The introduction and prologue is here
Part 1, "On Monday, A Funeral", is here
Part 2, presented here below, contains sexual situations (just FYI in case such matters disturb you and you wish to opt out of reading this part of the story.)
* * * * *
For my 18th birthday, my sister Alice gave me an LP I had wanted for months...my sister Amanda sent me twenty dollars in a card that said something about "little boys becoming men"...my brother Robert sent me a camouflage jacket with a note telling me that I could send it back if it wasn't the right size and he would take care of getting it right...my sister Mary sent me three dress shirts (one of which I would proudly wear at my high school graduation a few months later) and two dozen of her amazing mincemeat cookies.
On my 18th birthday, my father took Miss Violet, his fiancee, and her three kids out to dinner for some reason or another (if he remembered it was my birthday it certainly wasn't apparent to me) and then he stayed at her house as he had so many nights before.
Alice made me a chocolate cake and we laughed and listened to my new record and ate cake with my friend Lloyd and her friend Cheryl and Miss Elizabeth, our boisterous next door neighbor who had been a friend of my mother's and who continued to watch over us when our father was out with his woman and/or drinking himself senseless.
It being a school night, we wrapped up the party a bit after 9 and Miss Elizabeth drove Lloyd and Cheryl home while I carried
"I'm just checking to make sure you kids are okay..." she said disingenuously.
"I'm not a kid any more," I bristled.
She smiled humidly and stroked the side of my face. "No, you're not." Something sad and sweet passed across her face and I wanted to reach out and take her into my arms. But I couldn't move.
I felt a stirring in my pants...Miss Elizabeth was a plush, honey-colored woman who laughed loud and often (even if her eyes betrayed the melancholy that walked with her always) and I had lusted for her from the time I realized that girls were indeed desirable company after all (that time being in the 5th grade when I fell madly in love with a popular, chocolate-skinned girl who never once acknowledged that I was even alive.)
The urge to reach out and caress one of the golden globes that were her breasts was one I had had to stifle more times than I could count.
Even my sister Amanda had noticed and noted my infatuation during one of her visits...it seemed to both please and sadden her in ways I could not understand...though I'm not sure if she ever told Miss Elizabeth.
But I knew that Miss Elizabeth knew what I was feeling whether my sister had said anything or not...she always looked right through me, smiling opaquely in a way nobody else understood; sometimes she teased me in a coy way, her eyes ablaze with laughter and something else I couldn't put my finger on.
I was always jealous whenever she came around with her latest man...but it didn't last because the men never stayed and I could sometimes hear her crying alone when they left her. I always wanted to run and comfort her but I was just a boy and I imagined that she would just laugh at me and the thought of that stabbed through my heart.
Standing off in the shadows I listened and made silent vows that when I was a man I would love her always and never ever make her cry. And now she was here and I was a man and I was absolutely terrified. And she knew that too. She took my hand and led me to my bedroom.
She kissed me...chastely on the cheek...then again, more insistently on the lips. She kept murmuring that it was wrong but I had no idea what she was talking about and pretty soon the whole Pacific Ocean was roaring in my ears and I couldn't hear anything at all.
Miss Elizabeth must have known that, too because she stopped talking and just began to gently guide me through it all. By the time we were both naked, I felt as if I were going to explode...or die...or both.
I was deliciously burned by the heated expanse of her soft body...by the sweetness of her ample breasts, mine to touch at long last...by the intoxicating wine of her lips.
She began to speak again but I still couldn't understand a word. She guided me on top of her and took my aching member in her plump hands and guided me into her.
My heart was beating so hard, I thought that this glorious moment would indeed be my last...my penis was aching so hard I was sure that the moment wouldn't last and she would be disgusted by my childishness.
Miss Elizabeth rolled us over somehow and took control of the motion of our loins. She kept smiling reassuringly and murmuring something.
I just nodded and held on. And then in a brilliant, painful, joyful, amazing explosion, I lost control of myself and Miss Elizabeth smiled again.
I had never felt so drained in my life...and it was glorious. It was everything I had ever imagined...certainly nothing at all like the awkward, ultimately frustrating fumbling I had shared with a couple of girls my own age over the past year or so…and, at the same time, beyond even the wildest reaches of my fevered imaginings.
And the memory would linger forever...whenever I made love with a woman I would always remember this night...the way Miss Elizabeth smelled...the sweetness of her lips, her breasts, her skin...the wounding softness of her skin...the searing humidity of her sex...the patient urgency of her hands consoling and commanding me.
Miss Elizabeth snuggled down next to me and hummed a soft, kind of sad, tune until sleep took me.
When I woke, she was gone. I got up and got
We went through the motions in an awkward, anxious silence that
We never spoke of that terrifying, magical night...or, to my everlasting regret, ever repeated it.
As the days and weeks went on, Miss Elizabeth came around less and less. Sometimes I would hear her, late at night, stumbling up the walkway of her house with some man. I would watch as the light in her bedroom window went on and feel my heart break every time that light went out.
(for GRP)
No comments:
Post a Comment