The Long Farewell...

Something like this???

 

Well, I didn't recommend suicide, but that would be one hell of an exit strategy.

 

Hello Phunsters,

I was released yesterday and needed a day to recover before logging in. Thanks for the well wishes. Chemo is rough; no one should have to go through it. One post and I'll save my energy today for another day.

 

Hello Phunsters,

I was released yesterday and needed a day to recover before logging in. Thanks for the well wishes. Chemo is rough; no one should have to go through it. One post and I'll save my energy today for another day.

 

For most of the school year, Marilyn remained in the background. She wasn't beautiful but she certainly wasn't plain or ugly. She just wasn't petite in a milieu that dictated that desirable girls were thin. Marilyn was a little on the husky side but it suit her as well as a little chubbiness makes Sara Rue appealing.

I knew Marilyn as another student in the class but I didn't notice her in a sexual way. I was dating the mNorwegian bombshell at the time. Don't get me wrong, I talked to her n the hall once in a while. She always attended the school football games (to which I played wide receiver) even though we went winless. Marilyn was always around but pretty much well ignored by the student body at large.

That spring when my romance with Leone started heating up, my friend Gary told me that he overheard Marilyn telling someone else about the crush she had on me. I was flattered of course but my interests were elsewhere. Besides, it would have been hard for me to get my head around dating her because she didn't fit the mold of a Playboy Bunny.

Peer pressure was too great. It was my failing; my curse. I was already a "backgrounder" not being exceptionally good looking and just average in athletics. In fact, dating Leone was the only real social capital that enabled me to sit with the in crowd at lunch time. Her interest in me saved me from being banished to the losers table.

While dating was not on my agenda, I had empathy and friendship was something I extended to her.

It was common for me to partner the Marilyn on school projects. She was fun to be with and pretty darn smart. One projects we did together was dissecting a fetal pig for advanced biology class. Not only did we take that sucker apart, we got an A+ for preserving the organs well and assembling the skeleton. (I think the latter is still on display in the science room.) Our relationship was platonic and didn't bother Lenore to the very least.

It didn't take long for me to notice Marilyn inclination to tell "dirty jokes". The jokes that she told were good for a few snickers but no side splitters. Most of Tim were probably what she heard her father, a truck driver, who probably read them in Playboy or from "the road". However, one that really tore me up was more of a prank than a joke.

During the pig projects, Marilyn walked our specimen "tutoring" others. She shows the different organs to a few other girls and a guys. They took to what she showed them Since we were the biology brainiacs.

So at one point, Marilyn asked the victim to hold a piece of flesh while she showed the organs underneath. She would say, "see those, they are his testicles". This was followed by "ooohs" and "aaahs" at first. The next thing that her victim would ask is "if that's his nuts, where is the penis?". "You're holding it" Marilyn would deadpan with the observers, all former victims, breaking out laughing. Thats the kind of person she was.

While our friendship remains platonic through the school year, I could help but to appreciate Marilyn's boobs while we worked on projects. It starts with down-blouse views over while we worked on Porky Pig's cadaver but then I stole a few side glances during lectures and in the hallway.

I'm sure Marilyn noticed my gazes but she never said anything. Instead, she seemed to start wearing clothing that was a little more, not a lot, revealing. I assumed that she was just dressing for the weather as summer was getting closer. That was until Marilyn upped the ante by going bra-less.

He rack was rather nice to look at. The was they jiggled as she move got a rise out of my cock and this made it hard to concentrate on the school work. Tempting as it was, I done my best to avoid yielding to impulses and messing up my relationship with Leone.

It was hard because my girl kept me in a perpetual state of sexual hunger and have a nice rack in front of me was like placing a juicy stake in front of a starving man. I wasn't the only one,who had a hunger. Other guys in class started flocking around my study partner. Marilyn seemed to enjoy the attention. She paid a little less attention to me and that that made it easier for me to resist.

The school year eventually neared the end and everyone focused on either the final exams or summer plans. Despite the attention that Marilyn was enjoying, it seemed that none of the guys were able to stake a claim.

This led to wave of boasts related to sexual conquests that involved individual trysts, orgies, lesbianism and/or beastality. The sheer volume on the discourse was evidence to the exact opposite, which was that Marilyn simply had not fucked anyone of those spreading them.

The last day of class and and went. Leone left 10 days later and my summer vacation looked as if it would be a downer. I was glum and just stayed in my room for the first week wallowing in regret about that aggressive pelvis thrust-boob grab that I made on Leone. But I starts coming out of my shell when Stanley, Brad and Scooter, my amigos, started baiting me with cinder-lot baseball, sunshine, beer and refer.

Things started looking a little up in July and a few visits to the beach. The City of Chicago, my material home and where most of my stories take place, has some fantastic beaches.

Our favorite was Fullerton Beach because Fullerton Avenue marks the divide between grassy park on the north and sand/water to the south. It's also close to Lincoln Park Zoo, which has free admission and is a great place to hangout after getting stoned. More importantly, the area is populated by a phenomenal cross section of college babes because De Paul University is in the area. The bikini babes and college girls offered more eye candy than what we could ever hoped to dream. Pure visual enjoyment.

July elapsed into August with the four of us spending out days either on the lakefront or the cider lot playing ball. Although none of us worked, Scooter's brother had a job and could afford to buy an ounce or two of grass. He bought Scooter's silence with a joint every now and then.

It was an enjoyable and lazy summer. Leone far from my mind.

One day, about the middle of August, I caught the Fullerton bus home, which was near North Avenue and Pulaski Road. I transferred to the #53 Pulaski line to discover that Marilyn was on the bus. No surprise there because she lived about four blocks away. So I sat down in the her row and we started chatting.

Unlike my own, Marilyn summer wasn't leisurely. She has a part-time job as a gofer at Lane Technical High School to support teachers who drummed math and English to kids that under-performed during the regular school year. Not fun at all.

After about 20 minutes of sharing our gripes about the normal stuff teenage moan about (e.g. parents, curfew laws, etc), the #53 approached North Avenue, which was our stop. Not wanted our conversation to end, I invited her to a coffee and continued chat at Ferdenell's Restaurant located on the northeast corner of the intersection. Marilyn made a counter-suggestion of grabbing a couple of Cokes at the Walgreens drugstore and seeing who was at The Hangout.

I really didn't want to go there. The Hangout was basically a store roof that we had access to because the owner never bothered to secure the access door. It was well-known and frequented by just about every kid who lived in the four block radius of North Avenue and Pulaski Road (also known as Pioneer Corner due to a bank with than name being the located on the northwest side of it). It was a place where we could kick back removed from adult eyes while remaining in earshot should someone's parent called out.

It was furnished with a few discarded items, such as an old sofa, chairs and a coffee table that were found in the alley by me and other guys in the neighborhood. While is was a good place kick back in the spring and autumn, the weather made is less so during the other seasons. It was unused in the winter and the heat of a typical Chicago summer could make sitting up there exposed to the sun an unbearable experience. Its popularity as a hangout meant that someone else would be there - especially on a mild day with a cool breeze coming off Lake Michigan.

While I wasn't trying to get Marilyn alone, I didn't want to go up to The Hangout. I didn't want to have to deal with bullshit that my friends would toss my way because Marilyn and I were together in the summer. Furthermore, The Hangout was a mull-generational place. My younger and older brothers could be there as well, which meant that the razzing about me "fucking the chubby" would go into a 24 hour news cycle and escalate each time protested that Marilyn was "just a friend".

Despite my misgivings, I agreed to heading that way to avoid the chance that Marilyn's father also walking into Ferdenell's for a coffee. So with pop bottles in had, we ascended the fire escape watching to make sure that neighborhood moms didn't spy us on the staircase. While they might have known about the hiding place, being spotted meant big flushed out by a parent.

We made to the rooftop and, to my surprise, no one was up there. So we took seats on the sofa to resume our chat.

One topic led to another and then eventually, Marilyn inquired about my relationship with Leone. I told her that it was over and the reason. I didn't give a play-by-play account; I just said that I tried to make it to second base and got tossed out. "That's her loss" Marilyn said and continued by saying "Golden girls like her always think their tits are gold and should be touched".

That comment caused my eyes to drop and give Marilyn's boobs a look. It was reflex reaction that lasted a couple of seconds - long enough for her to smile. She then said "Go ahead, touch them.". So I reached up and started fondling her left boob. My cock got hard in a instant and even harder as my hand slipped into her bra.

She undone the bra clasp and pulled he top up to expose both tits. I kissed her lips and then sucked on her nipples. I was hard, very hard and got throbbing hard when I felt Marilyn's hard on my cock.

We caressed each other and this led to a semen flow from my shaft. I was no longer thinking second base. I was now aiming to hit the ball out of the park and moved to undo the jeans. Marilyn stopped me and said softly "We can play but not all the way."

I removed her top and dropped my jeans exposing my hard on. She stroked it while I stood in front of her. I rubbed it across her cheek hoping that Marilyn would put it in her mouth. I didn't force it.

Marilyn grabbed my hips and pulled me down so my cock would fall in her cleavage. She pressed her boobs together as I pumped my cock between then. I started going faster and faster until I exploded all over her boobs and she laughed while wiping cum off her chin.

We sat on the sofa for a few minutes before dressing. She stroke my now limp cock while my finger played with a nipple. Marilyn giggled at first but then got serious and said "We can't do this again".

I inquired why and she responded "I have a boyfriend".

I was surprised, to say the least, but assured her that her wish would be respected. We then dressed and parted ways.

Marilyn and I did note cross paths for the rest of the summer. She didn't come to He Hangout anymore. I assumed that she was spent her summer job or starts hanging with her boyfriend and his Portage Park friends.

It was just as well that she didn't come around. I'm not sure that I would have had the strength to resist hitting on her. I was still eager for that first fuck and was beating off nightly to the memory of our rooftop playtime

When the new school year began, I learn what how Marilyn spent her summer vacation; she eloped.

Although we remained friend, it wasn't as close as the previous year. I kept my distance because she didn't need to deal with my horny impulses after getting married so young, at the age of 17 years, and against her parent's wishes. She had too much baggage in her life. Thus, my first fuck would have to wait - for Anne.

 

For most of the school year, Marilyn remained in the background. She wasn't beautiful but she certainly wasn't plain or ugly. She just wasn't petite in a milieu that dictated that desirable girls were thin. Marilyn was a little on the husky side but it suit her as well as a little chubbiness makes Sara Rue appealing.

I knew Marilyn as another student in the class but I didn't notice her in a sexual way. I was dating the mNorwegian bombshell at the time. Don't get me wrong, I talked to her n the hall once in a while. She always attended the school football games (to which I played wide receiver) even though we went winless. Marilyn was always around but pretty much well ignored by the student body at large.

That spring when my romance with Leone started heating up, my friend Gary told me that he overheard Marilyn telling someone else about the crush she had on me. I was flattered of course but my interests were elsewhere. Besides, it would have been hard for me to get my head around dating her because she didn't fit the mold of a Playboy Bunny.

Peer pressure was too great. It was my failing; my curse. I was already a "backgrounder" not being exceptionally good looking and just average in athletics. In fact, dating Leone was the only real social capital that enabled me to sit with the in crowd at lunch time. Her interest in me saved me from being banished to the losers table.

While dating was not on my agenda, I had empathy and friendship was something I extended to her.

It was common for me to partner the Marilyn on school projects. She was fun to be with and pretty darn smart. One projects we did together was dissecting a fetal pig for advanced biology class. Not only did we take that sucker apart, we got an A+ for preserving the organs well and assembling the skeleton. (I think the latter is still on display in the science room.) Our relationship was platonic and didn't bother Lenore to the very least.

It didn't take long for me to notice Marilyn inclination to tell "dirty jokes". The jokes that she told were good for a few snickers but no side splitters. Most of Tim were probably what she heard her father, a truck driver, who probably read them in Playboy or from "the road". However, one that really tore me up was more of a prank than a joke.

During the pig projects, Marilyn walked our specimen "tutoring" others. She shows the different organs to a few other girls and a guys. They took to what she showed them since we were the biology brainiacs.

So at one point, Marilyn asked the victim to hold a piece of flesh while she showed the organs underneath. She would say, "see those, they are his testicles". This was followed by "ooohs" and "aaahs" at first. The next thing that her victim would ask is "if that's his nuts, where is the penis?". "You're holding it" Marilyn would deadpan with the observers, all former victims, breaking out laughing. Thats the kind of person she was.

While our friendship remains platonic through the school year, I could help but to appreciate Marilyn's boobs while we worked on projects. It starts with down-blouse views over while we worked on Porky Pig's cadaver but then I stole a few side glances during lectures and in the hallway.

I'm sure Marilyn noticed my gazes but she never said anything. Instead, she seemed to start wearing clothing that was a little more, not a lot, revealing. I assumed that she was just dressing for the weather as summer was getting closer. That was until Marilyn upped the ante by going bra-less.

He rack was rather nice to look at. The was they jiggled as she move got a rise out of my cock and this made it hard to concentrate on the school work. Tempting as it was, I done my best to avoid yielding to impulses and messing up my relationship with Leone.

It was hard because my girl kept me in a perpetual state of sexual hunger and have a nice rack in front of me was like placing a juicy stake in front of a starving man. I wasn't the only one,who had a hunger. Other guys in class started flocking around my study partner. Marilyn seemed to enjoy the attention. She paid a little less attention to me and that that made it easier for me to resist.

The school year eventually neared the end and everyone focused on either the final exams or summer plans. Despite the attention that Marilyn was enjoying, it seemed that none of the guys were able to stake a claim.

This led to wave of boasts related to sexual conquests that involved individual trysts, orgies, lesbianism and/or beastality. The sheer volume on the discourse was evidence to the exact opposite, which was that Marilyn simply had not fucked anyone of those spreading them.

The last day of class and and went. Leone left 10 days later and my summer vacation looked as if it would be a downer. I was glum and just stayed in my room for the first week wallowing in regret about that aggressive pelvis thrust-boob grab that I made on Leone. But I starts coming out of my shell when Stanley, Brad and Scooter, my amigos, started baiting me with cinder-lot baseball, sunshine, beer and refer.

Things started looking a little up in July and a few visits to the beach. The City of Chicago, my material home and where most of my stories take place, has some fantastic beaches.

Our favorite was Fullerton Beach because Fullerton Avenue marks the divide between grassy park on the north and sand/water to the south. It's also close to Lincoln Park Zoo, which has free admission and is a great place to hangout after getting stoned. More importantly, the area is populated by a phenomenal cross section of college babes because De Paul University is in the area. The bikini babes and college girls offered more eye candy than what we could ever hoped to dream. Pure visual enjoyment.

July elapsed into August with the four of us spending out days either on the lakefront or the cider lot playing ball. Although none of us worked, Scooter's brother had a job and could afford to buy an ounce or two of grass. He bought Scooter's silence with a joint every now and then.

It was an enjoyable and lazy summer. Leone far from my mind.

One day, about the middle of August, I caught the Fullerton bus home, which was near North Avenue and Pulaski Road. I transferred to the #53 Pulaski line to discover that Marilyn was on the bus. No surprise there because she lived about four blocks away. So I sat down in the her row and we started chatting.

Unlike my own, Marilyn summer wasn't leisurely. She has a part-time job as a gofer at Lane Technical High School to support teachers who drummed math and English to kids that under-performed during the regular school year. Not fun at all.

After about 20 minutes of sharing our gripes about the normal stuff teenage moan about (e.g. parents, curfew laws, etc), the #53 approached North Avenue, which was our stop. Not wanted our conversation to end, I invited her to a coffee and continued chat at Ferdenell's Restaurant located on the northeast corner of the intersection. Marilyn made a counter-suggestion of grabbing a couple of Cokes at the Walgreens drugstore and seeing who was at The Hangout.

I really didn't want to go there. The Hangout was basically a store roof that we had access to because the owner never bothered to secure the access door. It was well-known and frequented by just about every kid who lived in the four block radius of North Avenue and Pulaski Road (also known as Pioneer Corner due to a bank with than name being the located on the northwest side of it). It was a place where we could kick back removed from adult eyes while remaining in earshot should someone's parent called out.

It was furnished with a few discarded items, such as an old sofa, chairs and a coffee table that were found in the alley by me and other guys in the neighborhood. While is was a good place kick back in the spring and autumn, the weather made is less so during the other seasons. It was unused in the winter and the heat of a typical Chicago summer could make sitting up there exposed to the sun an unbearable experience. Its popularity as a hangout meant that someone else would be there - especially on a mild day with a cool breeze coming off Lake Michigan.

While I wasn't trying to get Marilyn alone, I didn't want to go up to The Hangout. I didn't want to have to deal with bullshit that my friends would toss my way because Marilyn and I were together in the summer. Furthermore, The Hangout was a mull-generational place. My younger and older brothers could be there as well, which meant that the razzing about me "fucking the chubby" would go into a 24 hour news cycle and escalate each time protested that Marilyn was "just a friend".

Despite my misgivings, I agreed to heading that way to avoid the chance that Marilyn's father also walking into Ferdenell's for a coffee. So with pop bottles in had, we ascended the fire escape watching to make sure that neighborhood moms didn't spy us on the staircase. While they might have known about the hiding place, being spotted meant big flushed out by a parent.

We made to the rooftop and, to my surprise, no one was up there. So we took seats on the sofa to resume our chat.

One topic led to another and then eventually, Marilyn inquired about my relationship with Leone. I told her that it was over and the reason. I didn't give a play-by-play account; I just said that I tried to make it to second base and got tossed out. "That's her loss" Marilyn said and continued by saying "Golden girls like her always think their tits are gold and should be touched".

That comment caused my eyes to drop and give Marilyn's boobs a look. It was reflex reaction that lasted a couple of seconds - long enough for her to smile. She then said "Go ahead, touch them.". So I reached up and started fondling her left boob. My cock got hard in a instant and even harder as my hand slipped into her bra.

She undone the bra clasp and pulled he top up to expose both tits. I kissed her lips and then sucked on her nipples. I was hard, very hard and got throbbing hard when I felt Marilyn's hard on my cock.

We caressed each other and this led to a semen flow from my shaft. I was no longer thinking second base. I was now aiming to hit the ball out of the park and moved to undo the jeans. Marilyn stopped me and said softly "We can play but not all the way."

I removed her top and dropped my jeans exposing my hard on. She stroked it while I stood in front of her. I rubbed it across her cheek hoping that Marilyn would put it in her mouth. I didn't force it.

Marilyn grabbed my hips and pulled me down so my cock would fall in her cleavage. She pressed her boobs together as I pumped my cock between then. I started going faster and faster until I exploded all over her boobs and she laughed while wiping cum off her chin.

We sat on the sofa for a few minutes before dressing. She stroke my now limp cock while my finger played with a nipple. Marilyn giggled at first but then got serious and said "We can't do this again".

I inquired why and she responded "I have a boyfriend".

I was surprised, to say the least, but assured her that her wish would be respected. We then dressed and parted ways.

Marilyn and I did note cross paths for the rest of the summer. She didn't come to He Hangout anymore. I assumed that she was spent her summer job or starts hanging with her boyfriend and his Portage Park friends.

It was just as well that she didn't come around. I'm not sure that I would have had the strength to resist hitting on her. I was still eager for that first fuck and was beating off nightly to the memory of our rooftop playtime

When the new school year began, I learn what how Marilyn spent her summer vacation; she eloped.

Although we remained friend, it wasn't as close as the previous year. I kept my distance because she didn't need to deal with my horny impulses after getting married so young, at the age of 17 years, and against her parent's wishes. She had too much baggage in her life. Thus, my first fuck would have to wait - for Anne.

 

My summer of aimless leasure ended when September came around and I retuned to high school for my final year.

It was good to be back because I was running out of ways to entertain myself. Hanging with the Lost Amigos - Brad, Stanley and Scooter - had a tendency to get old fast because they were a little too fixated on sex. Although I was swimming in the hormonal pool of youthful mating desire like these guys were but their approached were could have been the foundation for The Bing Bang Theory's Harold Wolowitz character.

Brad went mysterious macho man approach and thought that adopting a Billy Jack (from the movie of the same name) persona would make him a chick magnet. He even bought a hat like the one worn by Tom Laughlin in the 1971 film. I think women found this more scary than attractive. Especially coming from a rather tall dude with coke bottle glasses that made his eyes appear twice as large than they actually were.

Stanley was thin with an unkept appearance and walked with a limp caused by childhood polio He played guitar and fancied himself as an authority on sex and picking up women. His experience, however, was "textbook knowledge" ad he never actually dated anyone. Instead, he read everything written about it and memorized those corny jokes/pick up lines found in Playboy magazines.

Scooter was one that concerned me. There was something wrong with him as his girl talk always involved getting them drunk to the point of passing out and them fucking every orifice. What's more, Scooter had a knack of sensing which girls were more vulnerable and tried to ply them with booze. To this day I have no idea if he was successful at this because he never boasted conquests.

Looking back, hanging with these guys didn't help my prospects with the cute chicks because the high school crowd didn't accept them. Moreover, I clearly understood that the my relationship with Leone was the foundation of my "acceptance" by the "cool" crowd. I got razzed for it but turning my back to old chums was incongruent with my values.

This school year would be different as Leone no longer hung on my arm. I was concerned that this would open the door to open derogation that would certainly reduce my chances of getting laid before graduation. So I started wearing conventions normally worn by Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones while remaining aloft. I figured that it would make it position my nerdy chums as followers, as well as, attracting girls through the 'bad boy' appearance.

This persona served me well in another respect. About two years before, I had fallen ill with a serous case of spinal meningitis. The disease struck me during my first high school year. The high fever that it caused left me, for a time, unable to walk, see or hear. I even had some memory wipe out as a result.

Nevertheless, I survived and regained first my eyesight, then became ambulatory with therapy. However, some residual hearing loss stayed with me. After a period of deafness, my hearing return to a level that I could function without a hearing aid. It wasn't exactly the same as being a hearing person because there were times that I struggled to keep up with what others were saying, which led to feeling anxious about being treated as if I were less than human.

So my Keith Richards act help conceal the fact that I didn't understand when someone said something that I couldn't hear. When a rapid fire conversation occurred, I stared off onto another horizon as if there were more important thing going on in my mind. If there was a direct question aimed at me but I didn't hear, I'd retort with "say what" in a manner that suggested there was something wrong with the delivery, not the reception.

This strategy worked for the most part because I knew the speaking habits of the people I hung with. More so, I made a habit of excusing myself when the too many people were gathering around. However, there were times that made the others suspect that there was something else going on. I suspect that they assumed I was smoking marijuana.

But I digress...

Being "single" again, I found myself on the hunt for a little affection from a lady - any lady. And I found it with Anne.

Anne was an older woman. She was 36 years of age and already with eight children. While she was once an attractive girl (as old photos showed), a life of drinking and abusive men took its toll. Nevertheless, Anne wasn't ugly and still had a petite figure.

But she was a drunk! This is why she had so many kids each with a different father. Living in poverty, Anne would spend her time in a bar letting some guy to buy her drinks. More often than not, she would bring him home after she got blasted only to get fucked her bareback. But this was before she started living with Johnny Ray, who was a jealous fucker - a strange one at that.

I was introduced to Johnny Ray by Brad, a guy who was a few years older that dropped out of high school before completing his freshman year. He was a lush by age 21 years and verbally abusive to Anne. While I only witnessed verbal abuse, she would have mysterious bruises once in a while. On a few occasions, he threw drunken accusations related to her faithfulness at her and threatened her. He would say things like "You a whore, woman, and if I catch fuckin another man, I'll tie you down with your legs spread, open the door and put a "free whore inside" sign out in front". Anne stayed with him, I guess, because they lived reasonably well off her huge welfare check and his construction job salary.

Despite his tendency to be an asshole, we start hanging with Johnny Ray out of a few selfish reasons - booze, cigarettes and warm place indoors as Chicago winters can get brutal. Another reason is that Johnny Ray had a few good qualities. He had a good sense of humor and gave unconditional regard to other guys. Finally, we stood a chance of earning a few (under table) bucks on the weekend when he let us help out on the construction site moving bricks for the bricklayers.

Without going into a long tale about our adventures and misadventures at the JR household, it's suffice to say that we hung there so regularly that he got quite comfortable with either Brad, Stanley, Scooter or me stopping by while he was at work. "I aint need fretting about you'all hitting on my girl with all these kids about" he once said.

He was wrong!

On the contrary, Anne loved the attention that she got when we were they while Johnny Ray was at work. She would have a few beers, tease us with loose fitting clothes and sex talk but always stopping short of actually actually fucking any of us.

A classic example is when she once complained about not being able to give blow-jobs. Anne protested that she loved to give guys head but some dude broke her jaw and it healed misaligned. This injury left her unable to open her jaws wide enough to fit a cock inside without teeth scraping the shaft. Stan asked for a demo while offering to be a Guinea pig but Anne laughed while saying "you wish" blowing him off, which was the only "blow job" that he would ever get from her.

I took Anne's playfulness as just a way for her to get attention with no real chance of it leading anything. So I didn't make any real overtones to her. On the contrary, I tried to be a good friend and seldom played along when Stan and Scooter got a little too touchy when Anne had a bit more to drink that usual. Brad kept his distance because I was afraid of getting caught by Johnny Ray.

One warn autumn day, I left school without any home work to complete. I went over to Johnny Ray's place rather than going home. It was in the mood to get stoned. It was just after 3:00 pm and Johnny Ray was usually home by 4:00 pm. I figured it was best to go first rather than home and risk getting stuck with chores.

I arrived and Anne answered as expected. She let me in and offered a cup of coffee. I noticed that she was straight for a change. We chatted and I learned that she didn't have any alcohol in the house because her caseworker was scheduled to visit and she didn't want to risk violating some "no booze" terms laid upon her by the Department of Children and Family Services.

It was only after sitting with our coffees that I learned Johnny Ray would be staying at friends house because the caseworker would take custody of the kids of she discovered that a man, to whom she was not married to, was living there. (Such was Illinois morality laws of that day.)

Cursing my luck, I told Anne that I would finish up the coffee and be on my way. She replied "Don't be a stranger. No harm in friends talking. Besides, Scooter will probably stop by soon and he always has a joint. You can't smoke in here. Even through my caseworker is gone, you never know if she might come back for pop visit". So I stayed and we talked about a welfare rules and stuff like that. *Then I asked her personal questions related to how she ended up with eight kids and being with Johnny Ray.*

She told me a pretty sad tale about being sexually abused by her father growing in the Ukraine, running away and eventually marring an American with a goal of immigrating to the USA. But she left him shortly after arriving in Chicago because she hated the guy as he only fucked her in the ass, which is something her father did.

After that, she met a guy in a bar and moved in with him. He fathered he first kid. Things we were for a few months until he got pitch for armed robbery and sentenced to 10 years in jail.*From there, she said her relationships were short and "the kids kept coming". *Anne also said that drinking was her only escape now even though DCFS gave her a hard time about it.*

Then she turned the conversation towards me by asking "do ya got a girlfriend?" I told her that I had one and screwed it up. She asked how I did that and I just told her that it didn't work out. Then she said, "did you get a piece of ass before the split?" but I must have look embarrassed because she immediate followed with "you didn't?"

It was an awkward moment for me but I affirmed her suspicion. The she asked "didn't you ever pop your cherry?" *I guess is was too embarrasses to lie so tried to sound like an adult by saying that the opportunity hadn't presented itself yet.

Anne felt sympathy for me at that moment. She took me by the hand and led me to the bedroom. When we got there, she had already unzipped my fly and had her hand on my now hard cock. *She pulled it out and said "oh my." trying to sound like a high school cheerleader.

I kicked my shoes off and dropped the pants. Leaving my shirt on, I watched Anne undress. She asked me to lock the bedroom door as she undressed herself. The younger kids were napping in the other room and the older ones had not yet come home from school. After we were completely undressed, I gazed at her body. Anne was thin and had small but firm boobs. This was because her nipples were inverted and she once said that this prevented her from breast feeding.

She laid on the bed and spread her legs to be fucked missionary style. The sight of pussy made my dick throb with anticipation. I hesitated partly because it was a sight to behold and the other part, fear for not being a good lay. After all, this was a pussy that had many, many men enjoy. "Come on" Anne said and I crawled on to the mattress.

Now I had visions of what my first fuck would be like. Most of my day dreams involved a beautiful woman that needed to be chased and romanced till her reluctance melted away to the point where she gave into carnal pleasure. Fucking throughout the night reaching the brink and holding back to sustain the night until both exploded at once with my cum embedded inside her. But some dreams remain dreams. On that day, with Anne, I climbed on top of her and, without kissing or foreplay, my cock slipped inside and she guided it with her hand.

A funny thing happened. Anne's pussy didn't give the feeling that I expected. It was warm and wet but I thought her lips would grip as tightly as my hand while jacking off. But after a brief moment when my cock got less stiff, I started pumping slowly and the please increased. This made me go faster and faster.

Anne helped by wiggling her hips so that the motion was giving us both pleasure. She kept saying "fuck me, come inside me" and "harder". I obeyed. She started to had a body spasm that was an unquestionable orgasm while I continued to pump. She said "hurry up, my kids will be at the door". So I let go and felt my rod give a big throb while to cum shot through the shaft and deep into her pussy.

I didn't dismount right away. I left my cock in enjoying the post cum feeling until it got soft. When I finally removed it to dress, I saw my load oozing from her and was relieved when Anne told me that her tubes were tied during the last childbirth.

I was twice lucky on that day. To get fucked for the first time and by a women who I could go bareback without future recriminations.

After we left the bedroom to discover that her two eldest were in the living room watching TV. This gave me an awkward feeling but Anne's face didn't show want concern. They had been through that before.

Once back to the kitchen, I sat there with a shit eaten grin on my face, Anne notice and said "that was really you first time!" as if she assumed that my confession was just something I said to get in her pants. I reaffirmed that it was my first time and thanked her.

We talked a little longer and Scooter never came. So when it was time for me to go, Anne made a point to say that what happened was a one time thing and something that stayed between us.

And has been our secret to this day.

Next: Leone Redux.

 

Anyone who has gone through four high school years at the same place knows that it's almost impossible not to run into a former love. As expected, Leone and I shared two classes - English and in Advanced Biology - in our senior year. I kept my distance, physically and emotionally, because my 'wounds' were not completely healed. So I really didn't say much to her for he first few weeks other than the customary "hi" and "goodbye".

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I was avoiding her because of what happened between us. I was avoiding 'in crowd' clique that she belonged. While the tolerated me before, not that we split, they would become verbally abusive towards me - the guy from a less well-to-do family. In their view, my membership to that crowd was based on a relationship and revokable. Leone had full membership and, in the groups' view, she was done 'slumming'.

Some time after my tryst with Anne, the Advanced Biology class transitioned from studying animals to humans. One assignment involved human physiology and dietary patterns and required use to collect data from a partner. We were to record pulse, heartbeat, and weight while tracking their eating and exercise habits. To select the pairs, our teacher pulled names from a hat. A number of pairs were matched before Leone's name was drawn. Mine followed next and we were matched.

It was an awkward moment for both of us. Well, it was awkward for everyone in class because it involved a level of intimacy that normally didn't occur outside a dating relationship. Some girls may not have had a guy place a stethoscope near to their breast other than a doctor. A few guys were clearly uncomfortable being matched up with another dude. (Homosexuality was quite in the closet in those days.) A few were not happy that their steady was matched with someone else. So when the class spit into pairs, there were a lot of partner trading going on.

I approached Leone and said "We don't have to be stuck with each other if you don't want to be". She told me that she didn't see a reason to trade partners. More importantly, she certainly didn't want to be stuck with someone like Scooter or a sexually supercharged jock. I laughed while but agreed to be the lesser of her evils.

This was a long term project with the reports due in the string. The groups were to take recordings to examine the relationship between diet, exercise and health. All findings would be rolled up to a class reports that would give us an understanding of the importance of a healthy lifestyle while providing research skills.

It really didn't seem like a big deal once the rumors of reconciliation died down. All we really had to do was take each other's blood pressure and heart beat once a week, as well as, share notes on what we ate and our exercise habits. We also had to aggregate our notes for a bi-weekly summary on what we observed.

For the second part, I just gave her my notes. This was fine at first but Leone got a little testy because this practice forced her to do more work than me. So started having meetings to go over the observations and jointed complete the report. Simple stuff and it was good to have a conversation with her again.

Once while working on the assignment, Leone inquired why I didn't seem interested in her anymore. This caught me by surprise. I said something about her throwing me out after grabbing her breast was a clear message on how things stood between us. Moreover, she never told me when she came back from the trip. So I pretty much well assumed that our relationship was over.

Leone blushed and then said "I didn't break up with you over that. My dad was coming. That's what I told you when when I told you to go." She then said "you know, I think you need to have your hearing tested because I noticed that you miss a lot of what goes on."

My blood went cold in a flash as the ogre of fear escaped from its cage. It was a demon that existed inside me since my recovery from meningitis. I kept it chained in the shadows repressed as a means to deny the fact that my hearing had not made a full recovery. Life was different; I had a permanent disability to which my only previous experience was through a chance meeting with a homeless deaf beggar who sold finger-spelling cards one a street corner. The ogre now had my gut in its clutches, smacking it around several time, while it screamed with a vengeance: "You're DEAF, you big loser. Get a cup and put on the rags because the street corner is your destiny!".

I must have sat there frozen for what seems to be the longest time while I struggled to put the ogre back in its cage. Leone then leaned over and kissed my cheek lightly, put her arms around me in an embrace. It was comforting and helped me avoid breaking out is a long hard sobbing fit of tears.

Our embrace broke after the ogre was back in the shadows, I told Leone that it was time for me to go. She told me that I could call her if I wanted talk about it later on. I thanked her and left without saying another word.

Two days later, I invited her to see a movie with me.

To be continued.

 

damnit.. you totally have me.... more I want more ....now...\
this is gooooooooooood.

 

Hang on Classy. Part 2 is coming soon! I appreciate you comments, by the way.

 

I took Leone to see the Robert Redford film Jeremiah Johnson on the weekend following that discussion where I came face-to-face with the realities about my hearing loss. It was a good choice as it wasn't strictly a 'hang em high' film nor was it a chick flick. The only thing that could have gone wrong ifs as if Redford or Paul Newman happened to mosey into the theatre and make all other guys invisible. Of could there was no way that they would be in the vicinity and the evening unfolded without a hitch.

We saw the movie first and then stopped at the Ferdenell Restaurant for burgers afterwards. We talked mostly about the film that we just saw and a few others we saw previously (but with others). Leone told me about her vacation and I told her that mine was uneventful for the most part. That wasn't a lie. That little fling with Marilyn was the highlight of a summer that was spent playing baseball at the cinder lot, drinking beer and smoking grass. Unproductive but, what the heck, it would be my last summer without expectations laid upon me.

I walked her home after dinner and held her hand for about half the distance. She gave we a light kiss at the door before going inside. It was kinda funny because our kisses were a lot more passionate in the previous year. Nevertheless, it was a sweet way to end the evening.

I reflected on the evening while walking home. It was simply amazing that we went out again. It was more surprising it that I wasn't compelled get frisky with her. I certainly didn't want to go to fast on a first date after a break but also having sex with Anne, perhaps gave me a different perspective about having sex.

My mental debate didn't last long. About three quarters of the way home I was suddenly fling to the ground by some dude with a leather jacket. It was a throw intended to immobilize. It failed because I was blue belt in Hapkido before my trip to the hospital and was trained to take fall. Instead of landing face first, I rolled and started fighting back. Shortly one became two and then four. My ass for kicked. It was bad.

Although semi-conscious, I could no longer fight back. I was aware being flipped over on my stomach, arms pulled back behind me and felt steel bracelets clamp on my wrist. "Shit, they're cops" I said to myself.

They first transported me to The dreaded Shakespeare Precinct Station and after being booked for assaulting a police officer, I was taken to the St. Elizabeth Hospital nearby on Western Avenue. I had blackened eyes, a fracture arm and four broke ribs.

The public defended - who was assigned to me as my parents couldn't afford an attorney - insistent that I stay a few days for for the ribs to set and observation in case also concussion. When Leone heard what happened, she made a point to visit me and make sure that I didn't miss the class work.

What was my crime that led to the rumble? Curfew violation! I wasn't charge with that but it was the reason those cops used to stop me. What led to my resisting arrest and the assault charge? At the arrangement, which was held while I was still in the hospital, the police officers claimed that they approached me from behind and asked me to stop and alleged that I failed to obey this order. So they tackled me and I found back. My lawyer noted that these tactical patrol officers (plainclothes) and they could not verify that the command was, indeed, heard or understood (a standard defense tactic). Furthermore, anyone taken by surprise, at night, by a people that were dressed like bikers would act in self defense. The charges were dropped.

The public defender came to the hospital with the good news. My parents were there as was Leone. When he attorney described the allegations and ow he got the chars kicked, Leone squeezed my hand because she knew that there was a real potential that hearing loss played a role in this misadventure. My dad, on the other hand, called me a big dummy - something he called me all the time - because "you should have been home before 11:30 pm". With that, he gave me a crack on the back of the head and stormed out. My mom followed after saying goodbye and left me and Leone.

In privacy, Leone asked: "Why didn't you say something about your hearing?" While the ogre growling from the depths of my soul, I pointed out the futility of getting any kind of recognition and acceptance from my dad. He was just the kind of guy that would to give me a kick in the pants for having a disability rather than offering support. It was the only way that he could relate because that was how he was raised.

While don't mean for this story to focus on my relationship with my dad, it's suffice to say he wasn't a nice guy and my desire to keep the ogre hidden from the world somehow served to solidify a relationship between me and Leone.

From that day onward, we spend most of our time with each other. We studied together. We went to movies and dancing. But the one thing I tried to avoid was socializing with her other friends. It wasn't entirely a class issue. Although I didn't like the way they treated me as a probationary member, I avoided them because hanging with them placed my in a setting that risked my hearing loss being "outted".

I didn't keep Leone from her friend. She wasn't chained to me. I was distant, aloof when they were around and she seemed to be okay with that. She even used my tough guy rock-n-roller persona to keep other guys from hitting on her. She knew a different me, of course. A more gentler side that I rarely revealed to anyone at school.

As time went on, we become more intimate. Sweet pecks became kisses that eventually went French. Our huge went on another level but not to the pint of dry humping. Strong passionate embraces. I wanted her; I wants her a lot! But not bad enough to ruin the good thing we had.

Winter moved to spring and the weather warmed. One evening we were alone in her home when Leone's parent at some banquet and her brother playing in a band at some dive bar. We watched TV, snuggled for a while and I asked her if we could have frank discussion about sex.

Shooing straight, I told her that I that seriously hot for her. I wanted to move from first base to second but didn't want to make a move that was uncomfortable or her. Leone surprised me by saying that although keeping sex out of on mind was something that she once too great pride in, she struggled with the tingles. However, her biological mother churned out so many kids that she was afraid of getting knocked up from the git go. At that, she started rubbing the front of my pants while whispering "the clothes stay on".

We dry humped. Me in my jeans rubbing a stiff cock over Leone's pantie covered crotch. I tried to hold myself back until she came but I shot off in my underwear long before she has a chance to. Feeling guilty, I moved to go down on her but she didn't allow my lips to get near her pleasure zone. I thought it was reluctance but realized she has heard something in the other room. Her parents had come back earlier than expected and we happened to be in the sunroom in the back of the house instead of he living room. A bullet dodged.

We were lucky to have avoided parental wrath as we were still under 18 years of age and her parents would have banned me from the house forcing us to go underground. Nevertheless, the experience led me to make a personal vow to, in the future, rely on visual cue rather than auditory ones. This was my first step towards accepting my hearing loss as being permanent. It was a knife that cut into the ogre's flesh and drew first blood.

In the days and weeks that followed, my mind starts drifting in the idle moments. I daydreamed about Leone. Her soft skin. Her sweet smell. How she touched my cock and, later pushed her crotch against mine is circular motions sending my whole body into spasms. Finally, I dreamed of that slight whiff from her vagina that was so close, almost tasted, before being pushed away in her panic.

I was in a zone, a trance, where nothing mattered but to find a way to get her alone, interrupted, to undress her and insert myself into her in a slow and gentle manner. I wanted to feel her body reacting climax with legs around my hips pulling me deeper inside with her finger nails buried deep into the flesh of my back. I wanted to feel my load leap from my soul to her soul in a beautiful moment of carnal harmony. I wanted her so bad.

Fortunately, the opportunity didn't happen right away. Otherwise I would have pressed on sexually until Leone yielded to my overtures. I might have, in my haste, risked pregnancy by entering and ejaculating inside her unprotected, thus, making use parents long before we were ready.

Because the risks were great and I tried hard to avoided being completely alone with my girl. I took her to movies and Lincoln Park Zoo. We hung out is malls and restaurants. On my karate practice days, she sat in the gallery watching me practice unless she hung out with friends.
In the times when we were alone, it was usually on her front porch during the late evening hours. We petted in the darkness hidden from her parents. We didn't go to far sexually because we would have been in full view of anyone walking by.

Through restraint, time and frequent episodes of self gratification, I reached a stage were I could trust myself with her and be able to treat her with care that she deserved. As fate would have it, that day came one week after our senior prom night.

For reasons I don't recall, I talked Leone to stopping by Johnny Ray's place with me. It was uncharacteristic for me as I always keep Leone separated from that part of my life. She didn't have experience with the "other side of the tracks" and I saw no reason to expose her to it. Heck, I didn't even have her over to my place. I

For whatever reason, we were there and I knocked on door. There was no answer. So I knocked again. This too was met without a response. I tried the doorknob. The door opened and we stepped inside.

The place was empty. This was a surprise. Although Johnny Ray and Anne usually left the door unlocked for the kids, it was rare for them to leave the apartment unsecured like this. I figured that we could stick around until someone came home.

We waited. We waited some more. We talked. We talked some more. After awhile, we kissed. We kissed passionately. While our tongues danced, I started unbuttoning Leone's blouse. She didn't stop me.

To be continued...

 

You have me hanging on everyword!!!! I lOve this!!!!

xoxooxo

 

Being alone with Leone in Johnny Ray's apartment was unexpected but not unwelcome. More surprising is that she let me unbutton her blouse while we kissed and, for the first time, the beauty of her soft breasts cupped by a silky white bra was before my eyes. This vision aroused me to a height that felt like my erection with burst from the pressure generated inside. I could feel semen seeping from the tip even before I had a chance to touch.

Holding and kissing Leone's breasts was something I longed to do since that night before summer vacation when I squeezed her boob softly before the unfortunate misunderstanding that paused our relationship. Now here they were just wanting to be caressed.

Instead of jumping right into it, I kissed Leone deeply. She kissed back harder while her hand touched my leg at a spot unmistakably close to my hard on that her pinky finger could feel it pulsating through my jeans. She was exploring. Testing her boundaries. This told me that she wanted to feel my shaft in her hand.

This level of intimacy was unfolding as I dream it would. Except I didn't have a condom. So I took it slower than what my heart desired by slipping Leone's blouse from her shoulda when working my lips down her neck. She enjoyed this. Really enjoyed it. I could tell as the tip of her fingers flirted my cock with soft strokes across a portion of the shaft.

After her top was off, my lips moved slowly down her neck, across her collarbone and ventured in the cleavage. I undid the bra while kissing her. The garment fell to reveal gorgeous breast and perky nipples. I moved and kissed them while she placed a hand squarely on my cock and caressed it. I kept alternating between kissing her lips and the her nipples while she rubbed my rod trying to make be cum in my pants.

She was never so ready to share her body or take delight in mine. So I started, thinking that we were going all the way, unclasped her pants and unzipped the front when she stopped me and said "Your friends might come home". Her worries to rest when I told her that we will hear them long before the reached the second floor landing because eight kids make noise. With this, she relaxed and I moved her jeans and panties, which left me in awe on how wonderful Leone looked completely undressed.

Unable to resist, my jeans came off. Leone stared me as a means to avoid staring at my cock. We were not yet touched when she made it clear that she didn't want to fuck. She wasn't ready. This tortured me a little. No, a lot! I wanted to slip inside her and make love with her for a long time.

But I knew she was right. Having sex without a condom would be a big risk to take. Trying to withdraw before ejaculated was dicey. Once the motion started, I might not have been able to stop. Even worse was that semen was flowing from my tip and who knows how many swimmers fought their way into pole position and managed to escape early.

So we laid there foundling each other. Rubbing our bodies together. I was especially excited when we rubbed my rod's shaft against the mounds of her ass. A few times I tried to rub it against her pussy lips but Leone wouldn't have that. So I went down on her and licked to my heart's delight.

It was my first time going down on a lady. It was an experience! The taste and aroma sent me into a frenzy. I tried hard to bring her orgasm but my inexperience showed. Although she enjoyed the feeling, I wasn't moving her towards climax. For me, on the other hand, it was a lot more enjoyable. Without warning or any direct physical stimulation, my cock exploded squirting white juice onto floor and sofa front where I kneeled.

Leone jumped up to make sure that my spilled load was well clear of her vagina. She dressed. I also dressed and I cleaned up my mess. We left after the place after was tidy locking the door is our wake.

It was a silent walk to Leone's house. The sun was settling and it was warm. It was a slow walk. Hand in hand. Leone didn't go upstairs immediately upon arrival. She wanted to stay with me longer. So we sat on the porch enjoying the evening without us saying a word.

She broke the silence by saying "we have to talk about it" and she did talk. But what she said wasn't really expected. Instead of expressing guilt about being carried away, she said, in a sweet girls voice, that she liked my body. Although a no brainer, i told her that her body was that of a goddess and I hoped to worship it again. "You will" she responded "in due time".

I left when Leone mom called her in. I walked past my grandmother after arriving home. Went into the bedroom, locked the door, stripped to my briefs, turned the exhaust fan on and lit a joint.

I stared at the photo of Leone hanging on my wall as the grass lifted my head into the clouds. My other head lifted in memory of the experience that unfolded just a mere two hours before. Staring at the Leone's image made her touch, the smell of her first body, her kisses and her sweet taste came back to me.

I beat off, came again and fell asleep.

Back in school the next day, Leone behaved a little differently. Previously, her manner leaned toward being a proper lady. Although we had our public displays of affection, they were infrequent and seldom initiated by her. Now Leone was more relaxed. She ventured into my personal space a lot more often. It was as if she, on a psychological level, was marking her turf as a "back off; he's mine" warning to other girls.

Life was good!

We edged closer to graduation over the next few weeks. Leone was accepted in an education program at the University of Chicago. My post-secondary path was cast in doubt because the academic guidance counsellor failed to warn me that credit accumulation fell short of graduating due to my bout with meningitis. Even to this day I puzzled as to why he waited till the second half my my 'senior year' to inform me that I had to make up three courses. Thus was the Windy City school system of that era.

Nevertheless, I found myself in an embarrassing position of watching Leone and the rest of my class receive their diplomas from the audience. I probably would have skipped the event if my girl wasn't walking on stage that day.

Much later after the ceremony and her family members went on to tending other matters, Leone called and asked metro meet her at a Chip's Diner, which was near school. Chip's was the lunchtime hangout for my school. It was a 'joint' much like Rob Lowe referred to his friend's diner in the movie About Last Night. Many high school relationships started there. On the flip side, many ended there as well.

So when Leone asked me to meet her because "we had to talk", I figured that she decided to move on because she was now a college girl whereas I was still a high schooler. Never mind that I hadn't noticed any red flags leading up to this date. After all, divorces usually catch one partner by surprise. Filled with dread, I strolled over the Chip's slowly. I wanted to absorb the world as it was because I expected it to be upheaved in less than an hour.

I arrived first and seated myself in the back. The place was empty besides two elementary school kids. No one I knew was there, I guess, because they had better things to do than to hang around their former school. The waitress came over and I ordered a Coke while waiting for Leone to arrive. I was early to give me time to formulate a mature response. Although I dreaded breaking up, I wanted to be ready to take a hit and walk out with my head up. The prospect of my breaking down into a blubbering heap horrified me.

Leone arrived not long after the waitress brought my Coke. She saw me, smiled and started making her way to the back. A few red flags started going up the minute I saw her expression. While hearing loss does not led increased sharpness in a person's sight. That just a myth. What it does is force the individual to rely on more on visual cues and body language that what residual hearing that may exist.

As Leone approached, the expression that I saw on her face didn't match that of an executioner. On the contrary, her expression and demeanor was more consistent with delight. This reassured me but I wasn't ready to exhale just then.

Leone gave me a little peck after reaching the table and sat down while I order an ice tea for her. She sat across of me in the other side of the booth instead of next to me, a habit she subconsciously picked up as conversations were less of a struggle when she faced me. (Lipreading helped but had limits.)

The iced tea arrived and she talked about her familial comings and goings. I really didn't have an idea of what she said as my attention was focused on trying to read her body language. The condemned rarely think about the weather outside in those last few minutes in the electric chair.

After long last Leone mentioned that I seemed distract. I confessed that I was but blamed it on being left behind, my wheels spinning while she goes on to university. She took my hand and said that it makes little difference to her. "It's best to start college a year later than not at all". She continued by saying that she want to talk to me about something important. I readied myself but Leone was interrupted by he waitress who came over refills.

After he server was gone, Leone continued by saying "I want to have sex with you."

"Say what?" I responded.

"Come on, don't make me shout it out for h world to hear" she said with a laugh.

My mouth might have been hanging open with surprise written all per my face. I knew what I heard but had a hard time absorbing the impact of them. But I ventured with "Are you sure? What about your concerns with getting knocked up?"

Leone's face reddened while saying "I'm sure. I've wanted it that day we were at that guys flat. I've been rubbing myself every night because of it and really want it all the way now."

Stifling a sigh of relief, I told her that I'll make arrangements including the purchase of condoms. We stayed for a little while and then I walked her home.

After a passionate goodbye, I left to ponder how I would be able to raise the money needed to make the experience one that Leone desired. I didn't want to take her back to Johnny Ray's as it was, well, as scruffy as one would expect of a unit subsidized through welfare. My grandma was hawking me since that day that Janice came to visit. More importantly, how could I get a hotel room since I didn't have a job and had no savings.

How indeed!

Next, the conclusion

 

Phunsters!*

Apologies for the long time it's taking me to conclude the story of Leone. *I've been taking care of a few affairs and got distracted with some good weather. This could be the last summer and I really think it's one that I should savor. *

Nevertheless, I'll get back to it so I can move on to the next chapter.*

 

no worries, enjoy the sunlight.

 

This.

 

Leone wanted to give herself to me. My dilemma was being we needed some privacy but I didn’t what to ‘borrow’ someone apartment like we had done during our unplanned engagement in Johnny Ray’s place. It could start rumours of my girl going “all the way” and reignite lustful desires that other guys held for her. After all, Leone was a very beautiful woman who presented a image of being no less than proper for her age and the culture of the era. She was enticing, untainted fruit for them. They kept at bay since we got back tighter due to, in part, my tough guy persona but for the most part, her loyalty to me. Having anyone privy to my desire for a private room would certainly cause problems for us.

The complication was that I didn’t have a job and no money to get a hotel room. However, I figured it out. It was a gamble that paid off when I asked my Uncle Jimbo for help.

Jimbo worked as a garbage man with the city and ran contracting on the side. So her had no shortage of "off the books" work opportunities that he could provide. Although her had some misgiving with my being under age for contracting work, he gave in after I told him that I needed money to book a room and a hooker.

Jimbo understood my need. He was a cad who enjoyed getting front seat blowjobs from streetwalkers that he picked up on the way to jobs. I know this because my uncle was well known in the community and talk once swirled about his getting picked up in vice sting and released without charges due to his connections.

So I got a job and he even paid me a few extra bucks more than his other workers. His only conditions were that I would keep my mouth shut that I was his nephew, my extra pay was a secret and I didn't get hurt on the job. I had no problems with these terms.

So over the course of two weeks I was able to earn enough money to rent a hotel room. During this time, my mom asked me what I was up to because I seemed to come home dirty each day. I just told her that I was doing some volunteer work helping a charity redecorate to avoid starting something between her and Uncle Jimbo (her younger brother).

It didn’t take long for me to save up enough money. The extra money that Jimbo paid helped a lot. So I told Leone to not make any other plans for next Saturday night.

For the rest of the week, I made preparations for our first night. I booked a fancy hotel downtown right across the street from the (then) Playboy Tower. It cost me a pretty penny but Leone was worth it. I knew that getting most of the stuff (i.e. wine, chocolates, flowers) would be easy. The hard part was getting condoms.

During the 1970s these birth control items was not found on the in the pharmacy isle as they are now. They were sold under the counter and only to people 21 years of age or older. Youths, like me, had to face the critical eye of the pharmacist. Many comedy plots were made from this very true experience of youthful boys trying to purchase condoms.

So on Friday, I went to the local Walgreens drugstore, walked to the back and asked the pharmacist for a box of “rubbers”. He glared and asked:

"Why do you want them?"

"What do you think?" I said.

He retorted with "Do you know what they are for?"

I bounced the ball back to his court with "Would I ask for them I didn't know?"

Standing his ground, the pharmacist lobbed the ball back to me with "How old are you?"

Feeling the rope's end, I retorted with a very sarcastic tone that was more Don Rickles than guitarist Richards:

"I'm old enough to need them. Just be thankful my pleasure will not be your daughter's service."

The man stared at me for a few minutes with a flash of anger on his face before turning his back. When he faced me again, there was a box of Trojans in his hands retrieved from the place that the supply was kept from the ‘innocent’. I paid and left. Outside breathing a sigh of relief that antiquated puritanical beliefs didn't force me to bounce around stores.

I was even more relieved that I avoided having to ask Scooter or Johnny Ray for a few. Leone wanted our endeavor to be private as she was taught that girls protected their reputations as diligently as Fort Knox protects gold.

Saturday arrived. It was a busy day for me. The first task was to take the "El" (short to elevated train) downtown and get the hotel room key. The hotel had a different name back then bit it’s the same place on Michigan Avenue that is now called the Westin Inn (next to the John Handcock Centre).

I paid cash for one evening and the desk clerk gave me the key. No hassles. Upscale hotels are good in providing service with no questions asked. My age wasn't a factor save for a warning about parties that involve damage. I commented that my plans were would be more private engagement and this was assurance that I would not be a problem guest.

The other errands on my agenda were to pick up roses for the room and a bottle of Champagne. The flowers came from a downtown florist. The wine would be found at a liquor store located at Division and Spaulding – home turf of the Latin Kings. The owner sold to anyone that paid the gang surcharge that allowed passage into the store. My surcharge was lower than the suburban kids because many of the gang members were classmates at Harriet Beecher Stowe Elementary.

With everything in place, I went home to shower and wait for the time Leone said she would b home from a family function. Like a long wait but that's because I was eager. It was actually maybe about two hours that's all. I use a time to shower at home. I would have used shower that the hotel but I wanted to room to be fresh when we arrived.

Pick up time arrived. I walked over to Leone's place and rang the doorbell. She must have been waiting at the window because it opened immediately. She called out to her mom that we were going to a movie. Although I wanted to have a taxi pick us up at her doorstep, Leone insisted that we walk over to Division Street instead and call for a taxi from Chip’s. It was a ruse to avoid suspicion that this date was special.

It didn't take long for us to arrive downtown. Our neighborhood was about 20 minutes away. We cuddled during the ride. I also gave her an opportunity to back out. Her hand squeezing mine as if to say "no way".

Leone was dressed as if she were heading to church rather than a carnal playground. It was what she wore during that family thing. She looked virtuous and she was. I was Leone's first boyfriend. Having sex on this day would be her first and she offering herself to me. Sitting in a taxicab thinking about all this made me even hotter for her.

When we arrived at the hotel, Leone wanted to take another elevator. It was really unnecessary but she was hung up over the fear that someone that knew her family would see us. I humored her and went up to the room and waited.

A knock on the door came 10 minutes after I arrived. I opened it up, she stepped in and looked around. What she saw pleased her. I poured a glass of Champaign for both of us. We sipped it while sitting on the edge of the bed.

I started things off by nibbling on Leone's ear then moving down the side of her neck. We kissed while caressing each other until she got up and said she was going to shower then and change into - to use an old cliché - something more comfortable.

I remained dressed while waiting for her. Once the bathroom door opened, I regretted leaving my clothes on. Leone had on a sheer while nightgown that did little to conceal her gorgeous body. The shape of her breasts and how they jiggled underneath the fabric were visible to the eye. Her white panties enhanced the outline of her hips.

Leone’s eyes, oh man! I can still see the ‘come on’ look that she gave as she stepped into the room. Just looking at her made me hard, almost painfully hard.

She came to me and I stood up. We kissed and she unbuttoned my shirt. Soon we caressed each other on the bed. I slowly removed her white parties but not the sheer top. Feeling her breast through the fabric made the experience much more exciting.

When Leone was ready, I tore open the condom packaging and rolled the latex over my shaft. I was a little hesitant because I had never used a condom before. Not with either Marilyn because she only allowed me to stroke my cock between her boobs. Not with Anne either. I went in bareback because her tubes were tied.

The latex rolled on without a hitch. It just felt a little tight. After I made sure it was completely on, I fell on my back and told Leone to get on top. I chose to be on the bottom because Leone was to become the second woman to have sex with me and she being a virgin, I didn't want to hurt her by being on top and going inside her too fast or too hard. This position allowed her to control how comfortably my cock went in.

Once on top, Leone reached down and held my cock into position. She swayed back and I felt the tip penetrate slightly before she paused. Leone emitted a slight "ohh" grew from pain. I asked if she was ok and she answered with a kiss. Then she pushed down a little more and I felt the pop of her hymen breaking. She moaned this time more out of pleasure of having my rod fully inserted.

I let her do the work until she was used to having me inside her. Her moaning now was all in pleasure. She humped me with a steady rhythm alternating between resting her torso on my while we kissed and sitting straight up so could watch her breast jiggle. At a couple of points, she leaned forward to let me kiss them or suck on her nipples.

When her back tired, we rolled over to the missionary position and I stroked slowly while kissing her neck. I was holding back so that Leone would climax first. I wanted her to climax many times. I resisted exploding inside her despite that her vaginal wall held my shaft as firmly as could a virgin. Finally I could hold back any longer and I felt a hot stream of ejaculate firing out of the rod.

I rolled off Leone and I tossed the condom into the trash. We lay there in each other's arms. She started fondling my limp cock out of fun and I fingered her nipples. I asked if she came but she confessed that it didn't happen. So I went down on her and licked her clit until her thighs squeezed the sides of my head while her body went into spasms.

Pleasuring Leone got me excited again and I reached for another condom. Leone begged off. She was a little sore from this new experience. So we lay there kissing and talking for a while. At one point she said "we better catch a movie" so that she could honestly tell her mom and dad about the film we saw. So we went to see American Graffiti at the Chicago Theater and dined at Pizzeria Due afterwards.

The night came to a close and I took her home in a taxi, which dropped us off on Division Street. We walked the rest of the way. After a long and loving goodbye at the door, I departed and headed back downtown, to the hotel, on the #70 Division bus because we didn't check out.

The ride on the #70 ended near Clark Street and I would walk the rest of the way. Fortunately, I had just turned 18 and the curfew law no longer applied to me. (I still watched my back for cops.)

I ventured through the Rush Street District. This is Chicago singles party zone featured in that Rob Lowe-Demi Moore film mentioned previously. I was still a few years away from legal drinking age and unable to enter any of these joints. However, the party often spilled into the street and I could have gotten a beer from someone, if I wanted, but I kept walking though just enjoying the memory of the evening.

When I reached a pub called The Lodge, I smelled the aroma of pot coming from the alley that ran along side. I entered and found the group that was smoking and asked for a puff. They were stoned, drunk and welcoming. So I stuck with them for a while getting high.

These guys, which I never caught their names, talked about work stuff but I had no idea what was being said. I understood that they were runners at the Chicago Stock Exchange and were doing well financially. My difficulty in understanding was not ignorance or inexperience. It was that, unknown to me, my hearing level slipped down a few decibels and discerning voices from the background noise.

Here I was on what was the best night of my life so far and now the ogre at the door of the cage. It was trying to get free by straining against the bars in hopes that they would yield enough for an escape. A queasiness in my stomach set in while I watched, in my minds eye, the sweat drip off the ogre's brow. I was struggling with the fear that my new companions would notice that I really didn't understand what they said. So in defense of my self-esteem, I blurted out.

"Oh man, I fucked my brains out tonight and the hottest babe ever!" with an immediate pang of guilt for speaking about Leone like that.


The guys started cheered and whopped while taking turns in slapping my palm in high five salutes. One pour a beer on my head and another ran into the pub only to come out with tequila shots for everyone. After we down the drinks, they asked for details. Although I didn't give a play-by-play account, I mentioned which hotel that the room was located.

One drink led to another and we were relocated to the hotel. The guys brought beer, pot and cocaine and we partied for a while. I took a pass on the coke and stuck with beer and grass. We were wasted and the guys somehow managed to be functional enough to leave sometime after 3:30 am.

I crashed out there and woke in the morning with the first real hangover of my life. Finally checked out, I went home to sleep it off a little longer.

From here on, my relationship with Leone changed for the better but, then the worse.


Note: I planned to draw this chapter to a close with this passage but it's tuning out to be longer than expected. Apologies.

 

My relationship with Leone grew after our first night of carnal love. We were closer and seemed to be on a path marrying my high school sweetheart. We didn't talk about it; it was just understood between us that we were peanut butter and jam.

Leone deferred post-secondary education because she lost interest in a career. I suspected marriage and children was what she visualized as a future. Instead of college, she took a part-time job at a pet store. Maybe is was selfish of me but I was relieved that she chose work over school because, there was a fear buried deep down in my heart that I wouldn’t be able to compete with rich college guys.

On my part, I started working full-time for my uncle more frequently since reaching the legal working age. I even completed high school by splitting my needed credits between a summer school course and night school.

However, college seemed like a remote possibility. I struggled in high school in that final last year passing with a D average despite being B+ average student for the three previous years. I didn’t understand why school became so hard despite my best efforts. I just didn’t get why the tests included stuff that we didn’t study.

When I realized that the information that I thought we didn’t study was stuff discussed in class that I couldn’t hear well enough to understand, I raised this with my teachers. They just accused me of slacking off. When I raised it with the guidance counselor, he advised to get a passing grade, graduate and get a factory job instead of college. So I gave up on a dream to be the first in my family to earn a degree.

Nevertheless, I was now making money. This made it easy for Leone and me to go out frequently and have sex in a nice hotel once in a while. I even paid for a birth control pill prescription for Leone so that we could go bareback. (Ironically, my family doctor was a lot more liberal than the pharmacist. He wrote the Rx without forcing her to undergo the interrogation that I went through at the drugstore.) Sliding inside Leone bareback was heaven on earth. Her vagina had a velvet texture and tight. It made exploding inside her something that was hard to forestall.

The pill made it easy for us to make love whenever we had a chance. We had a quickie when her parents went to the store. Sometimes we did it at my house whenever we were alone. We even once fucked on the steps of the Field Museum of Natural History with cars passing by on Lake Shore Drive.

As time went on, we started fucking a lot. Especially after I purchased 1967 V8 Mustang that I purchased from my cousin. Despite its size, that car became our bedroom during warm weather months. Leone lived next door to a florist and the greenhouse offered seclusion. When the sun went down, I pulled the car into the back and we would sit there making out. Leone usually straddled me and/or I would push the seat back and go down on her. When the weather turned, we would book a room somewhere or found a reason to go down to her basement where we would do it doggie style.

For her part, Leone loved to make me cum. She wanted me to me unload either inside her with her legs around my hips holding me tightly in place. She also liked me to shoot it on her breasts. For fun, she would give me hand jobs just to watch cum squirt into the air like water at Buckingham Fountain.

Our sex life wasn’t perfect. Although Leone enjoyed fucking, she didn’t want to give blowjobs even though she loved me going down on her. Putting a cock in her mouth was hard for her to do. She didn’t talk about it and I let it slide. Forcing her to do it didn’t seem right even though never had a blowjob and wanted to try it. I figured that she would come around sooner or later.

I didn’t wait very long either. One day we had sex in her bedroom. I already came in her twice but Leone wanted to play more. Although I was pretty spent, she tried to get me hard by playing with my limp rod with her boobs and hands. This only made me semi-hard and then she surprised me. Her head moved down to my pelvis and I felt a warmth envelope the cock’s head and the suction. She was blowing me and it felt damn good.

My shaft got hard real fast while Leone’s head bobbed along its distance. She kept a rhythm that was absolutely pleasurable. I tried to make is a “69” but she pushed me back down while sucking away. Then I exploded in her mouth unrepentantly. The suddenness of my climax caught her off guard. She gagged a little but swallowed wit a funny expression on her face. She found the sperm distasteful and never did that again.

Another concern about our sex lie was that Leone seemed to orgasm only when I ate her out – never when we fucked. To many guys this may not seem to be a problem but I thought climaxing together with cock inside her would be the hottest. We tried to do the many, many times but I could only hold back so long. Eventually it did happen but only once.

One day she was feeling frisky but didn’t have a place. My brother borrowed my car for a date and both houses were full. So we just went for a walk to, at least, enjoy the summer evening. Our route went down Thomas Street over to Kildare and then onto Haddon. About the middle of the block, Leone pulled me towards a house that I recognized as where her best friend, Karen, lived. Those two grew up together and Leone knew when the house key was hidden. She retrieved it and opened the basement door although the lights were on and people obviously home.

In side, we tiptoed to a soft. Leone hiked up her dress and removed panties. I undid my belt, fly and pulled my jeans down half way. We fucked, as quietly as possible, missionary style. I started breathing hard and she placed a hand over my mouth to reduce the noise. After a couple of minutes, Leone’s body went into forceful spasms, which encouraged me to release inside her.

We dressed and sneaked out the door we entered trotted out of the back yard as quickly as we could. That was the only time that we climaxed in unison.

Otherwise life was perfect.

The good life didn’t last more than a year and change.

As any teenage slaughter film fan knows, the monster always comes back. Jason Voorhees died many times only to live again. Michael Myers was stabbed, shot, burned, and electrocuted with losing a step. The cycle doesn't end until the designated hero finds a way to dispose of the creature once and for all.

Thus was my relationship with the Ogre.

My hearing went into a rapid decline following my "first night of many" with Leone. During that year, the Ogre got stronger. It trashed about its cage testing the bars for a weak spot that would allow him to grab me by the throat. While I managed to avoid its grip, these encounters did not leave me unscathed. My soul felt the pain to scratches and cuts each time it took a swipe at me. The scars accumulated.

My injuries occurred during those occasions when I had difficulty following conversations – even in quiet environments. I bluffed comprehension. I laughed when others laughed and frowned when they did. I also did everything to avoid a direct conversation in a group of people. At those times I fell back into my tried and true distant guitar player persona. It served me well in high school and I hoped to make it work on the job.

I succeeded to a point. However, one day, a co-worker grew suspicious and he tested me by laughing and frowning while reciting the bible. When I parroted his expressions, he stopped shouted out to all to hear "this dude's deaf". My cover blown, the Ogre immediately roared and bent the bars on his cage just enough to claw at me leaving a slash in the area across my heart.

My first reaction was to find way to escape. Find a place to lick the wound. But I lashed out instead. I tried to push the ogre to the back of the cage with fire. I retorted in a loud voice "big dumb ass, if I was deaf, how come I heard you say that. Doesn't say for a guy that got caught beating his Johnson in the john."

That last comment was the knife to that dude's heart. A month before this exchange, a co-worker happened to open the door of the port-a-john and discovered my antagonist as the dude masturbated to a Victoria’s Secret catalog. My retort was an attempt to remove the focus from me. It worked. The crew broke out in laughter and stated taunting my assailant and while I pushed the Ogre to the back of its cage.

The incident was unlike those that came before. I felt like a gay person who was publicly ‘outted’ by an insensitive bigot. My co-worker called me by the “D” word. Publicly labeled as deaf person, which was a word that was in my vocabulary when referring my hearing loss. At the point forward, I was no longer a hearing person. No matter how much I protested or denied that I was no longer a hearing person, the “D” word was out there and the contracting crew wouldn’t forget that the incident happened. My fate was sealed in the upcoming week when they created a nickname for me, which was DEEF.

That incident changed me and not in a good way. It changed my world and my relationship with the one I care the most about. It transformed me into an angry young man. I was always angry. Angry with others; angry at the world. I was even angry at myself for “having been stupid enough to get sick”. This anger lay beneath the surface but it was there. It was the Ogre. The beast was stronger and no longer content to remain in the shadows and, my most profound regret; Leone was the one that bore the brunt of the Ogre’s wrath.

That verbal exchange, while appearing to be nothing more than typical workplace jocular, marked the beginning of long unhappy journey that nearly cost my life.

Next: Death of a relationship.

 

My friends,

I messed up by not focusing enough on my writing and this saga comes to an incomplete end. The clock ran out on me. I'm back in the hospital and expect to be carried out.

Farewell... It's been good knowing the Phunsters!

K

 

been good to get to know you! farewell....