Archive for January, 2010

Roller Skating; a real trip

January 21, 2010

The little group of teenagers I was a member of would meet at the church every other Friday evening to do some form of entertainment.  Some evenings we just sat around, danced to records, or played games.  On this fateful evening we decided that we would head for Santa Rosa and go to the skating rink.

My hair rose off the back of my neck as these words sank in – the SKATING RINK!?  Oh, no, not the skating rink.  So far in my life I had managed to avoid looking like a deer on ice by staying away from anything that required me to don either wheels or blades.  Up until now, that is.

Carol, my current girlfriend, piped up and told me that basically it was easy.  Just strap roller skates on our feet, stand up on a really hard wood floor, and move your feet back and forth.  No sweat.

Yeah, sweat.  I’d never been on skates in my life – never.

“Sure,” I said with nervous bravado.  “No problem at all.  Did you know I was captain of the roller skating club in Germany?”

“Yeah, right,” Was all that she said.  “You’re going, if I have to push you around the floor myself.”

Time began to fly by on fleet little wheeled feet and suddenly we were packed into cars and out on 101, headed north.  I figured I had about twenty minutes to live so I tried my best to snuggle Carol.  This was difficult because her friend Tina was between us.

“Hey, watch it buster!”  Tina stated as my hand poked her in the side.

Oops, sorry Tina.

Finally we arrived.  There seemed to be a lot of cars in the lot so I said, hopefully, “It looks like a lot of cars.  What say we go have a soda?  Anyone?”

Silence reigned supreme until Carol’s voice piped up and told me to pipe down.  She dragged me from the car and firmly held my hand as if I might try to run away.  Hah!  Me?

‘Come on Tom.  You aren’t scared, are you?”

“Me.  No way.  Why, I’ll walk right in there and show you a thing or two.”  I said, fighting the urge to add ‘probably my ass going over my shoulders on the way to a three-point landing – nose, forehead and chin’.

“Sure looks like a long line to get skates doesn’t it?  Anyone want to get a soda?”

“Freeze, Tom,” commanded Carol, with a hand on my collar.  “You’re going to do this.”

That’s what I was afraid of – doing this.  With trepidation I faced the kid at the counter and told her my shoe size hoping that they might have run out.

“Eleven and a half left and nine right” I said with a straight face.

She broke up when Carol smacked my on the back of my head.

“Okay, Okay.  Nine and a half – both feet,” I told her.

She rummaged around behind her and slapped two boots on the counter and took my fifty cents.  I eyed them with suspicion wondering if there was any way I could make the wheels so they wouldn’t turn.  That way I could just fake it with gliding strides.

Over at the bench, Carol slipped into her skates and laced them up.  Not wanting to be a complete weenie, I followed her every move up to and almost succeeding putting a little yarn ball on the top lace.  Fortunately, I caught my mistake before anyone saw me.

“You go on ahead, I’ll be along in a minute,” I said, hoping she would do just that.

“No way, Ho Say, you’re gonna go out there right now,” she demanded, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet.

Well, almost to my feet.  One foot went out straight in front of me, the other went almost under the bench, and my ass went directly, do not pass ‘Go’, to the floor.  I smiled; maybe I’d broken a leg.  Hope spring eternal.

Nope, I hadn’t broken anything except smiles on the faces of others as I baby-stepped my way out and onto the floor.  Carol, ever helpful, pulled me along at increasing speed while telling me to ‘move my feet’.

Move my feet?  I could barely move air in and out of my chest, much less move my feet.  And, what direction to I move my feet?  I looked around to see what others were doing and saw that they moved their legs in a short stroking motion with a little flip of the toe of their skates just before they picked up that foot to bring it forward.

I tried a couple tentative strokes and immediately dropped to my hands in a push-up arrangement.

“Just checking to see what kind of wood this was.  Looks very nice.”

“Yeah, right,” Carol said, in a voice laden with sarcasm.  “Get off your hands and stand up again.”

I struggled to my feet in what would have been a hilarious sight if I’d been watching anyone else do it; frightening, in my case.  Arms jutting out, elbows bent, body struggling to stay vertical while those little wheels did their best to fly out from under me.

I had never been able to do any type of split.  I’m told that only girls can do that; boys just aren’t built right.  I proved them wrong in one move.  My right foot shot out in front of me, my left foot shot backwards and I crashed to the floor in agony.  Surely I had injured something important now that my dignity had already been lost.

Skaters simply swerved around me as I whimpered quietly without offering solace.  Carol once again lifted me to my feet, hanging tightly to my waist, and started pushing off with one foot while steering me along.  I began slight movements of my feet to assist her.  This lasted just fine until the straightaway ended and we had to make a sweeping turn.

As we entered it, Carol was hailed by another of our group.  She turned her head, loosened her grip on my waist, and I felt myself gliding rapidly straight ahead.

“Ahhhhhhhhh!”  I screamed, as I headed directly towards the wall.  “Look out I’m…”

I never finished the sentence because I had smacked flat against the far wall.  My vision started swimming, mostly because of the tears in my eyes from my nose hitting first.  I did vaguely recall someone (probably me) screaming something about dying immediately before the impact.

I rebounded nicely though.  I would probably have been awarded at least a 9.5 based on agility alone.  When I fell to the floor on both knees I held out my hands like a runner embracing the finish line.  I was certainly finished.

Passers by claimed I said something like “please mommy, I don’t want to go to school’ but I’ll deny that to the end.

Carol swooped over to me and, once again, helped me up to my feet.  This time, we held each other at the waist and she skated while I coasted.  It seemed a fair division of labor.  I got nervous as we approached the other end of the track, but we navigated the turn and struck out straight yet again.

By the tenth or twelfth circuit I felt I was adding some impetus to the two of us so I slipped my hand from Carol’s waist and simply held her hand instead.  We skated slowly around and around until the music stopped and a disembodied voice announced a ‘blackout’ dance.

I wondered what that meant until almost immediately the lights went out and three spotlights switched on and lit up a rotating glass-chip ball in the middle of the rink.  If anyone thinks that roller skates are disorienting, just imagine how bad they can be when you’re already ON them and the lights go out to be replaced by colored shafts of light that fly about the room.  It was years before the term ‘acid trip’ would be coined, but that’s what comes to mind.

“Turn around.  You skate backwards and I’ll push you,” Carol told me.

“What!  You want me to turn around and go backwards?  I’ll be killed.”

“No, silly.  I’ll guide you.  Now stop being a goof and turn around.”

I complied and she snuggled up close, put her arms around me, and started off.  I must admit that this had its advantages.  She was nice to be close to; was well rounded – both of them pushing nicely into my chest; and she seemed to enjoy it also.

Around and around we went.  I began to relax a little now that my imminent death was apparently postponed for a while.  Over time, I learned how to slide my feet, push off with my toe, and move along by myself.  Carol was close to me to help, but eventually all we did was hold hands and skate along.  We had a grand time until the light flashed twice and the voice said “last dance”.

Carol and I tightened our grip on each other and we sailed around the floor.  Sometimes she was in front, and sometimes I was in front.  I’d learned a lot that night – not the least of which was how to be a good skate.



Spoken in Confidence

January 17, 2010

My dad had assigned me picket fence duty on Saturday.  This meant that I had to gather up spare pickets and replace ones that had been broken by errant baseballs, various body appendages hitting them, and other methods that forcefully rearranged pickets.

I was busily engaged in this when my next door neighbor, Kathleen, walked over and rested her forearms on the fence.  She and I had been neighbors for a while and, even though we had gone to a couple of movies together, not what you would call ‘an item’.  She was fun to be with though.  But today it appeared she had something on her mind because she had a little frown on her face and took a bit of time to say anything.

“Tom, we’ve been friends for a while haven’t we?”

“Sure Kathleen.  Ever since grade school.  What’s up?”

“Well, I have this problem – er – not really a problem, but something like it.  I really could use some advice.  I need someone to talk to.”

“I’ll help if I can.”

“There’s this guy I know and even though I’ve spoken to him a lot, I just can’t get up the nerve to tell him that I really like him.”

“Do I know him?”

“Yeah, but I’m not going to tell you his name right now but I’m around him almost every day.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“Go ahead – what?”

“Go ahead and tell him you like him.”

“Well, sometimes I think he might already know, and then other times he doesn’t act like it.  I’m afraid that if I tell him that I like him he won’t like me back.  I don’t know what to do!”  She wailed.

“Well, don’t think like that.  Maybe he really does like you.  You’ll never know unless you tell him will you?”

“But, what’ll I say?”

“Tell him what you’re telling me; that you like him.”

She shuffled her feet a little, dropped her eyes down, and spoke in a small voice “I think I’m in love with him.”

“Ah, that matters a lot.  I’d just go ahead and tell a girl that I loved her I think.  But I can see why you’re worried though.  If he doesn’t say anything, or walks away, that would make you feel really bad wouldn’t it?”


“On the other hand you’re really cute, nice to be around, and I’d be happy to tell anyone you were my girlfriend.  Go ahead and talk to him – tell him what you just told me,” I repeated.

“So I just go and say ‘hey, I really like you a lot and I hope you like me a lot too.’   Is that about it?

“Yep, just about right.  Now go and say it.”

In an even quieter voice, she said “I already did.”

I opened my mouth several times to speak, but each time I went mute.  I stood, turned to face her fully, and reached out with my hand to tilt her chin up.

“Kathleen, I…I didn’t know.  You’ve been right there in front of me all this time but I just didn’t know.  Maybe I love you too.  Maybe that’s the reason I choke up and get tongue tied around you.  Maybe that’s why my brain turns to jelly and I have to remind myself to breathe.”

She leaned forward over the fence and met me halfway across.  Our lips touched, gently.  We kissed.

“I’m so happy,” she said in a whisper after we came up for air.

“That’s not mending the fence!”  My dad shouted from the kitchen window.

“Yeah, but it beats the hell out of hitting your thumb with a hammer.”  I thought to myself.


Frustration – Post Graduate

January 6, 2010

I awoke Sunday morning after tossing and turning all night.  I was reliving that awful scene in vivid color and stereo sound.  My inner voice kept laughing and taunting me with hindsight’s such as ‘you should have cut out when the third guy cut in’ and the like.  I guess what really burned my beans was that Molly seemed so willing to go along with the rest of them.  I had her pegged as a snooty social climber, but not willing to humiliate someone so badly.  ‘Just chalk it up to experience’ the voice mused, but I couldn’t let it go.

Throughout breakfast I plotted elaborate, highly detailed schemes for extracting revenge. As each one formed I would savor the satisfaction I would get from its implementation.  No matter how bizarre the scenario however I avoided anything that would hurt Molly.  I sensed that maybe she was being used just as much as I because I couldn’t get over the feeling that there were times last night that she actually seemed to enjoy my company.  With an exasperated grunt I pushed it all away mentally and faced the rest of the day.

My Sunday bowling league went okay, if you consider slamming three consecutive gutter balls ‘okay’.  I had a hard time concentrating but managed what would be called a good day’s score.  I kept expecting my buddies to start kidding me about my so-called ‘date’ but they never did.  Was it possible that they hadn’t heard yet?

One of the two Asshole Twins, Lloyd or Leonard, I couldn’t tell them apart, came over and slapped me on the back.  “How’s it going?” was all he said.

“As good as can be expected,” I answered warily.

Here it comes, I though.  Now it will get much, much worse for me.  However, he paused, punched me on the arm, pointed down the alley and walked away with a “keep it up” over his shoulder.  What the hell?  Maybe I should rename them to The Double-Entendre Twins – nah, too long.

After bowling broke up I was walking back home when Sheila and Big Bozo (who’s real name was Frank) approached with Simone in tow.  Simone smiled, showing a great many perfect teeth, while Frank asked if I wanted to grab a hamburger with them.  Now, I may not be the sharpest crayon in the box, but even I thought I knew when I was being conned.  Sheila just looked at me.

“Why would I do such a thing; especially with you guys?”

“Hey, come on man, it was just a joke.  Nobody thought Molly would actually do it,” said Frank.  “It was a dare.”

“She feels really bad about it now.  Come on Tom. Come with us.  She’ll be there,” added Sheila, meaning, I guess, Molly.

“Well, okay.  But if anything looks fishy, I’m outta there.”  When, my inner voice cried, ‘idiot, won’t you EVER learn?’  I mentally told it to shut up.

“Fair enough” said Sheila, and took my arm.

I fully expected to walk into the snack bar and have all the noise gradually fade away like a trite cowboy movie when the sheriff squeaks open the flappy doors, but that didn’t happen.  A couple of my friends noticed me, waved and then returned to their conversations.  We headed to the table with Molly, the other brother, and Slick (Artie).  Molly pulled out a chair next to her and motioned me to sit.

“I really hoped you would come,” she said, gazing into my eyes with all the sincerity she could muster. “That was a pretty mean thing I did and I apologize,” she added, leaning over and pecking me on the cheek.

Artie leaned towards me and further added in a low voice that he was pretty pissed off when Simone did that to him.  Aha!  Did this meant that my whole ordeal was just some prank?  A joke?  I guess now I was supposed to laugh and be big buddies with them.  I managed a rather brief smile and said, “Well, I was kinda at first.”

What a load of crap that was!  I had been plotting various ways to retaliate all morning and now I was supposed to shake it off?  Molly put her hand on my arm and I turned in her direction.  “Please, Tom, it would mean a lot to me if you weren’t mad at us.”

There was that sincerity in her eyes again so I just nodded and turned to the menu.  I considered just standing up and walking away without saying a word, but like it or not, I was still smitten with Molly.  No matter how angry I was, I just couldn’t blame her for doing something I’d done a couple of times personally when I was younger.  I could remember some of the hazing I’d done back in D.C. at Scout camp.  I hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, but I suppose I did actually.  I decided to forgive, but I personally wouldn’t forget.

“Okay, I can see my way clear to forget about it, but just to be clear I will not participate in doing anything like this to anyone else.  Right?”

They all nodded their agreement and we signaled to the waitress that we were ready to order.

Molly and I started out a bit slow but went on a number of dates over the next couple of months.  I took her to dinner downtown as many times as I could afford, which she enjoyed.  She was surprised the first time I spoke German to the waiter and asked me how well I spoke it.  I told her that except for some technical terminology I’d been told I spoke it like a native.  From then on, she would ask me to go with her, and sometimes her mom, to stores downtown to help buy stuff.  I got my first real introduction to a “women’s” store that way.  I didn’t have any idea until then what ‘getting ready for a date’ actually meant; other than my own experiences, that is.  No wonder it took so long to ‘unwrap’ a girl.

On one occasion, she and I went to a movie and spent the whole time in the back row making out.  This time there were no games, giggling, or running away.  She allowed me to unbutton her blouse and put my hands on her breasts.  When I began nuzzling her shoulder, she pulled my head down and guided my lips to the soft rise above her bra.  When I kissed it, she shivered all over.

That was pretty much the fullest extent of any petting we did.  She stuck to her principles and I either had to go along with them or just walk away.  I chose to stay because, as a person and not an object, she was nice to be with.  One by one, she divested herself of the ‘hangers-on’ and became more interested in group activities that the both of us enjoyed.  She and I joined the German-American Club downtown which opened the doors to diverse experiences such as plays and skits, cycling trips, river rafting, and one visit a North Sea beach.  We became, in every sense of the word, very good friends; but not lovers; although there was one time we both ended up in the same room in a Gasthaus.  But that’s another story.

Molly and I stayed together for around six months.  We went to movies, dances, the snack bar, and occasionally downtown to dinner.  The pace of our dating began to slow, falter, and then finally stopped.  I don’t think either one of us could actually point to a time where we decided that our interests were diverging.  We mutually decided to call off whatever romance we had.

We would smile and wave to each other when we crossed paths, but never dated again.  I felt a little hollow for a while, but bounced back when other interests took over.  I noticed a new face showing up near me.  It was attached to a girl named Virginia.


Frustration 201

January 1, 2010

Our walk to the Base Exchange snack bar was uneventful.  We engaged in small talk for the ten-minute walk.  Overall, I’d have to guess that she talked around ninety percent of the time.  My responses were limited mostly to a quickly interjected ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

We pushed the door open and walked in to a noisy hubbub of music, chatter, clanking glasses, and loud laughter.  She spotted some of her friends sitting at a table and grabbed at my hand to pull me towards them.  I had already met everyone at the table, and most of them, both male and female, I could well do without, but allowed myself to be guided towards them.

“Hey Molly, Tom, how’s it going?”

I opened my mouth, but it was Molly who replied, “Fine. We have just enough time for a quick shake before going to the dance.  Are you guys going?”

Everyone indicated that, yes, they all were going.  One of the male-type people (I had immediately christened ‘The Big Bozo’) in particular put out his hand which Molly took so he could pull her to a chair next to him.  I bristled a bit, as I had to take the chair opposite the table from her.  What the hell, I thought; she was MY date, not his.

I already knew what she wanted so I went to the counter and ordered.  While I waited, I glanced back and saw her smiling and laughing at something the big bozo was saying.  My thoughts were only on how much fun we would have at the dance so I ignored the small voice at the back of my mind that kept repeating ‘you’re in trouble knothead.  She’s way out of your league’.  Against this, I argued ‘yeah, but how bad can it be?’

I suffered mostly in silence as the talk swirled around the table.  I learned who was going skiing, who had a new bunch of records, who was ‘going’ with whom, and all other bits of useless information.  Finally, Molly looked at me and said to the group “We’d better get going.”  En Masse, the entire group pushed back chairs and began putting on coats.  In one big gaggle we walked out the door and flowed towards the school.

So far, the evening was a total bust.  Not only had I really had a chance to get Molly alone much, but also now I was among a group of her friends that would surely monopolize her time.  My inner voice was getting louder, and yet I still ignored it.  After our coats were dropped off in the coatroom, I was able to cut Molly out of the herd and make her amble with me towards the edge of the room.  We found two open seats next to each other and began watching the activity from the sidelines.

There didn’t seem to be much dancing yet, but the music had started and we began tapping toes on the hardwood floor.  Since the dance was in the gym, the acoustics were not too great, but volume was the key, not quality.  As other kids headed for the middle, I asked Molly if she wanted to dance.

“Sure, let’s go”

About halfway through a fast one, I got tapped on the shoulder by Bozo.

“Can I cut in?”  It was not a question as he caught Molly in mid-spin and whirled her away from me.

Well, poop, I thought.  This isn’t going nearly the way I thought it would.  My inner voice agreed and added ‘like, wow, man’.

Molly came back to me on the sidelines just at the start of a nice slow dance and pulled me to my feet.  We started dancing and this time I was determined to keep predators at bay.  She nestled her head into the hollow of my neck and began humming the tune.  “Hey!”  I thought, “This might get better after all”.

Two dances later I was again cut in on by yet another person I had named Slick.  Slick had a high pompadour haircut and was dancing entirely too close to Molly for my tastes.  This was getting monotonous.

A couple of glasses of punch, several more fast dances and another slow one began.  We moved to the dance floor and were again wrapped in each other’s arms.  As we danced, I began to get an erection.  I knew without a doubt that she could feel it when she would bump against me, so I tried very hard to minimize contact.  I think she actually enjoyed my discomfort because I caught her smiling out of the corner of my eye.

‘Is that you?” she whispered as she nuzzled my ear.

“I certainly hope so” I replied.  Probably not the best time to crack wise, but it was the only thing I could come up with on the spur of the moment.

“I’m sorry.  Does this help?”  She asked, shifting her position slightly, which only added more pressure to the object in question.

“Not really” I said, trying my best to relieve pressure without being too obvious about it.  “Can we go sit down for a while?”

“Okay, if you want.  I’m sorry,” she added again.

“It’s okay Molly; don’t worry about it” I added, taking her elbow and moving her slightly ahead of me for cover towards our chairs.

I managed to get the two of us back against the wall without anyone laughing or pointing at my tented slacks and me.  I began mentally berating myself for wearing the tightest pants I own; what was I thinking!

Once seated, I arranged her light sweater across both our laps so I could ‘tend to my pressing problem’.  I was beginning to think that she was a lot cooler person than I had originally thought.  At first, she came on as a real bubblehead, but now, under these circumstances, she had a much calmer demeanor.

She scooted her chair closer to me and held one of my hands – as my other was busy – and then kissed me on the cheek.  Warning bells should have begun clamoring by now as this was very un-Molly-like.  If I had been using my brain cell I would have picked up on her intentions, but, no, not me.  I had almost finished adjustments, when, to my astonishment she reached under the sweater and put her hand directly on the ridge in my pants.

I quickly slammed the door on my little inner voice, turned off all of my situational awareness, and switched into lust mode.  I turned to look at her directly and found her already staring at me.  I think what finally put me into terminal tumescence was when she stuck the tip of her tongue out, slowly ran it over her lips, and squeezed with her other hand.

‘I know where we can go if you want.”

Did I want?  Did I want?  Of course I want.  My pulse rate doubled, my palms began to sweat, and my mouth went totally dry.  Here was what was arguably the prettiest girl of the class asking ME if I wanted to ‘go somewhere’ with her.  What a silly question.

Carefully, we got up and, using her as a cover again, I draped her sweater over my arm and held it in front of me.  As we started walking towards the exit, I felt as if everyone’s eyes were on me but when I glanced around, I saw that not a soul was even looking in our direction.  In a way, I was kind of disappointed. Here I was going to neck with Molly, and nobody I could brag to about it later.  With a gait just a little awkward, I escorted her from the dance and down one of the halls towards wherever she wanted me to go.

“Where are we going Molly?”  I whispered.

“Secret place.  Sheila and I found it last month.  You have to swear you won’t tell anyone.”

“Okay, I won’t” I promised, knowing full well that if it was a really cool place that I might not actually keep that promise.

We worked our way down one hall and over two smaller halls heading, I thought, towards one of the band rehearsal rooms.  I didn’t know of any place near there that would be private but I followed along.  I could hear my inner voice banging on the door to be let out, but I ignored it.  It wouldn’t do to have him ruining the mood.  I was fully capable of doing it myself without his help.

We did in fact reach band rehearsal hall number one.  Molly slowly opened the door, peered in, and took my hand to pull me in.  Once we got inside, she closed the door.  The only light was from a small bulb burning on the raised platform where the director stood during practice.  She kept my hand as she crept across the room and lifted a corner of a huge banner that almost covered the far wall.

Hidden behind the banner was a small, half-sized door with a pull ring on it.  She tugged at it until with a small snap it opened.  I looked hard, but nothing was visible inside.  I mentally mapped this end of the school and thought that this might be an area between the science lab and the typing room.  What it was doing here mystified me.  Mystified or not, I was as ready as ever to investigate.

Molly lifted a leg (showing a lot of sheer silky thigh), stepped over the threshold, ducked her head, and swing into the room.  She leaned back out, and reached for my hand.  Since I had moved a bit closer what she actually grabbed startled both her and I.

“Oops, sorry” she giggled and motioned with her fingers for me to follow her.

“Anywhere” I thought to myself; “I’d follow her anywhere.”

When I stepped over the sill and entered the room fully, she was standing below a small light on the wall.  The room was not very big, but had two larger doors on each side.  One door was definitely not in use because there was a huge piano pushed against it.  The other door was much larger, but had a twist-style lock on it which could be thrown from the inside.  I turned back to the hatch we had come through and could see that it was just an access panel, not a proper door.

“Molly,” I said, “how did you ever find this place?”

“A couple of us girls were in the band room last month and one of the windows was open.  A gust of wind came in and blew the banner a bit.  Sheila told me later that she’d seen a small door behind it.  After class, we peeked and there it was.  It was screwed shut, but she found a screwdriver and we undid the catches.  Now, we can open it when we want.  Neat, huh?”

“I’ll say.  It’s a perfect place to be completely alone.”

“Yeah” she said, and clicked the switch controlling the only light in the room.

Immediately everything went totally black.  I have a good memory, and now I was mapping the room as I had last seen it.  Molly was standing about ten feet directly in front of me, the piano was on my left and two small rolls of grey matting were on my right.  The little door was behind me because I reached back and touched it.  I also had very acute hearing and heard her stepping lightly to my right.  My head tracked the sound but I couldn’t see anything at all.  She giggled.

“Come and find me” she whispered, and then moved again to the side.

I did a Boris Karloff towards her with my arms outstretched and walking slowly.  I touched her shoulder, I think, but she dodged away again.  She must have been crouching down as she moved because there was nothing at shoulder height any more.  I turned towards rustling and again reached out.  This time I found smooth skin – an arm?

“Tag, you’re it” I teased and stood still.

An arm came at me from my left this time and wrapped around my waist.  When I turned towards it, she held fast and put the other one around me.  When she leaned in towards me I began to figure out what the rustling was.  She had unbuttoned the front of her blouse and her bra-clad breasts were poking me in the ribcage.  Oh, man, I thought.  This was something I had longed to see and couldn’t make out a thing.

She moved her head close to my neck and nipped at my collarbone with her lips.  This was the spark that ignited my lust again.  I shot to attention just as she pushed her hips against mine.  My erection was trapped against her firmly.

“Ooooh, that feels wicked and warm.  What are you hiding down there?”

“You know very well what’s down there Molly” I teased.  “The question is: what are we going do about it?”

Meanwhile, I had had enough of her breasts poking me in the chest and brought my hands up.  She grabbed them and stopped me before I made contact, telling me to wait.  Wait, I thought; wait for what?

More rustling.  This time I was sure she had taken off her blouse because she allowed my hands to complete their journey around her shoulders.  As I pulled her closer, they dropped down her back and encountered her bra strap.  While I was occupied in unfastening the clasp, she started a circular movement of her hips against mine.  I didn’t know if I could take much more of this without some serious relief.

The bra hooks finally opened (after I figured out there were more than one hook – who knew?)  It fell away to the floor and she pulled herself closer to my chest.  I could feel those soft breasts pushing against me as she slid her hands downward and rested them on each of my hips.

“So, now what can we do Tom?  How about this?”  She asked, pulling on my belt.

By now, the little voice had battered down the door I had locked him behind and was screaming in my inner ear “Dammit, Tom, she’s playing with you!  Listen to me.  She’s out to break you.”  I wasn’t listening; I was terminal and nothing short of all out sex was going to help me.  She yanked again on my belt, worked the pin out, and pulled it open.  This was followed immediately by my top button and soon the sound of my fly zipping down filled the air.

Oh, damn, she was really going to set me free here I thought, but she suddenly stopped and pushed against my chest.  This moved me away from her and, when I tried to follow, my pants fell down and tripped me.  Down I went holding my hands in front of me to break the fall.  I landed on both palms fortunately and did an impromptu push-up.  She had moved again because all I found was her blouse and bra.  She giggled in the darkness to my left this time.

I managed to pull my pants back up and stuff myself, painfully, back into them.  Where the hell was she now I wondered?  Standing completely still, I sensed that she was moving further to my left – over by where the rolled up mats were.  I moved quietly in that direction and reached out, low this time.

I touched her skirt on this try which caused another giggle.  Crap!  She WAS playing with me.  I reached out again with both hands and landed on each side of her hips.  I held tightly to the bunched up skirt as she turned to one side and back to the other.  When she did this I noticed that only she turned, not her skirt.  It was lying loosely around her hips and, as I moved closer, it began to slide downward.

Over the last few minutes my erection had waned, but now it popped back strongly and threatened to make an appearance without anyone’s help.  I was hit by so many emotions at once; I simply hadn’t the processing power to figure out what to do next since all the blood had drained from my brain.  Molly solved that by standing up straight and letting her skirt fall to the floor.  In a high-stepping movement, she managed to evade me again and danced away to the other side of the room.  This wasn’t my idea of fun at all.

“I’ll come back over if you promise not to grab me,” Molly’s voice from the gloom.  “Take your shirt and pants off and I’ll come back over.”

Now we’re talking.  I quickly unsnapped, dropped my pants to the floor, and kicked them away from my feet. My shirt followed them right away.  Her hand touched me on the chest and felt across it to make sure I had taken my shirt off.  Then it dropped to the bulge in my shorts.  In my mind’s eye I pictured her in front of me, wearing nothing but panties.  Things went a little crazy right then because for no reason she shouted “Now!”

The light popped on, brilliant after such a long time in total darkness.  A single pair of hands began clapping, followed closely by several more.  When I squinted out at them I found that there was a small crawl space over one wall and lined up on that wall were at least six heads.  Their hands hung over the edge and they were all clapping.  Molly stood before me, in nothing but panties and sported a satisfied grin.  I, on the other hand, was standing there in nothing but my shorts sporting a huge hard on.

Bozo, Slick, the Asshole Brothers, Sheila, and Simone were above me clapping like mad.  Molly had her hands to her mouth and was at least trying to stifle her laugh.  I had to give her that, but obviously I wasn’t going to give her anything else.  I was mortified beyond belief.  With as much dignity as I could, and that’s pretty hard when you have an erection to contend with, I gathered up my clothes, put them on hurriedly, and stalked to the little hatch.  I smacked it open and crawled through without a glance back at them.

Next:  Frustration, Post Grad