Ed Friar wasn't surprised to discover his son Nicholas waiting outside the front door of his flat when he got home from work -- Nick had arranged weeks before to stay that night, as he was going to a party near where his father lived -- and nor was he surprised to find that Nicholas had a girl with him -- Nick had said something about that in advance, too. What left Ed bemused was that the first thing he saw of either of the two visitors was the girl's nearly naked bottom.
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It was Saturday night, and I was looking for company. I didn't have any particular prospects, but I did have a standing invitation to attend a party that an acquaintance of mine threw on the first weekend of every month; I had never attended one, but I had a hunch that it might be a good place to go looking for love, seeing as how Randall, the acquaintance, always seemed to be accompanied by a different, very attractive woman.
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FRIDAY A NIGHT OF DEBAUCHERY
It was a Friday evening in May 1960 and the eight of us were at Dave's apartment drinking and playing teenage games. All of us were 18 years old except Dave who was 20. High School graduation was just a few weeks way. Susan and I had been dating and having sex for six months and I knew the others were as well. Frank and Shirley had dated their entire senior year. Jay and Sandy had been dating for a couple of months and Jay bragged about fucking her.
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My girlfriend, Trinh, and I have been together for a little over two years now. We met and started dating during our sophomore year in college; we took each other's virginity a few months into the relationship. While the logistics of having sex with Trinh hasn't always been easy -- we don't live together and each of us has roommates -- the sex itself has usually been satisfying, at least I think so, and Trinh seems to think so, too, from what I can tell.
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It was the second summer that I worked for our local public library but this time, I was assigned to a different branch from the one last year, which had been the branch I generally went to.
Now, before I tell you about what happened, I'll tell you something about me, after all, I do work in a library so maybe I'm not the senior all-star quarterback. And I'm not.
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"Steph?" Sean walked through the front door of the house he shared with his girlfriend as he and his buddies Kyle and Brock walked in the door. All of them were still in uniform since they had been in a hurry to get home and watch the game and had needed to make the necessary pit stops for pizza and beer. Sean had expected Steph to be hanging out in the living room waiting for them to get home but she wasn't there.
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The bitch shows up behind home plate again. Unbelievable. Second night in a row, she gets in the same seat and tries to fuck me up with her flashes of tit. She quickly yanks down one side of her tank top, flashes her boob, and tries to mess with my head.
She doesn't even have great cans. We're not talking about centerfold or top-notch porn material here. More like porn you'd find on the lower shelves, like bottles of cheap vodka in a liquor store.
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It's a fairly common misconception in many schools... boys are better at math, and girls are better with language. When people find out for the first time that I majored in or teach mathematics, many find it exceptional that a woman would have that interest. What's strange, though, is the thought that someone whose main interest is a left-brained activity like math would not be able to do as well with English language arts.
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Nora. Red-haired, round-bottomed, small-breasted. Thin, lithe and angular. Shaved her pubic hair into patterns, depending on her mood. Tattoo of a treble clef on her ankle. Her relationship before me had been with a woman. After me, she moved in with a couple. Sometimes I led my girlfriends (later, my wife) to the dark side. Nora had a steady table there long before I got to her.
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When I hung up the phone, I admit I might have slammed down the receiver in frustration. It was Monday and I had been looking forward to an evening spent in my recliner with a couple beers and some Monday Night Football. Instead, I had just been informed that I had been enlisted by my wife to help entertain another in a seemingly endless stream of consultants brought in to figure out how to make my wife's place of employment hum.
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