Fall of '69

I hated to ask, but I couldn't help myself. "How's Grandma and Grandpa doing?"

"They're dead, too." She gave me a pitiful smile. "Maybe you shouldn't stand so close to me."

Instead, I put my arm around Becky and hugged her against my side. We stood in line like that. After a few seconds passed, she put her head on my shoulder and her arm around my waist. I could feel the tension release from her body. I'd never been a comfort to someone. It was a compelling sensation.

We got our ice cream and wandered away from the building. The air turned cool, and was perfumed with a hint of autumn leaves.

Becky seemed content to follow me, so I headed in the direction of my favorite secluded bench, only to find it occupied by another couple. Unaware of everything around them, their lips were clamped together. Her hand rubbed his crotch and his hand moved around under her sweatshirt.

The spectacle tickled my libido back to life.

Becky's eyes stayed riveted for a few seconds, and then she turned and headed in another direction.

I followed her, patting the bottom of my ice cream cone.

Acting as if nothing unusual happened, she asked, "Why are you doing that?"

"What?"

"Pounding the cone on your palm."

"I don't like eating a dry cone. This moves the ice cream down and fills it up."

"Here." Becky grabbed the ice cream cone out of my hand and raised it to her mouth. She tipped it and pressed the ice cream down with the flat of her tongue. "That's how I do it." Then she took a sizable lick as a reward and handed it back.

"I see what you mean. But I don't like to use force. I prefer to gently coax the ice cream into the cone. A much smoother, kinder process, and less mess." I pointed. "Look how much ice cream is hanging over the edge now. By patting it, I don't have to worry about annoying overflow or cracking the cone. The cone accepts the ice cream willingly. The cone and ice cream become one flesh... colored treat."

She laughed. "Is everything sexual with guys?"

"Mostly." I held out my hand. "You licked mine. Can I lick yours?"

"Sure."

I made a show of using just the tip of my tongue to leisurely scoop some Rocky Road off the side, and then moaned with satisfied bliss as I savored the flavor.

"You're weird."

Handing it back, I said, "Thanks. Yours was delicious."

"I bet you say that after licking all your girls' cones."

Once again, I took the lead and headed for another spot I liked. This time, the bench was empty.

We sat down, ate ice cream, and gazed at the moon.

"Where were you when Armstrong walked up there?"

Becky sighed, and I knew it couldn't be good. "At a funeral parlor for Grandma's calling hours. Not many showed up."

"That's really sad." I put may arm around her and played with her hair.

"Yeah, it was." She leaned against me.

Afraid to bring up more bad memories, I stopped asking questions. We just sat there, eating ice cream.

A minute passed. Becky lifted her cone up to my mouth. I sampled hers and offered her mine. We shared back and forth, until they were gone.

I felt her shiver.

"Here." I placed both arms around her and pulled her close.

The tension I usually felt in her body whenever I touched her did not materialize. She stayed relaxed and compliant in my arms.

I said, "You feel nice," then tipped my head down and buried my face in her hair. "You smell nice," I whispered, and then kissed the top of her head.

Without prompting, Becky looked up at me and smiled. The moonlight glowed on her cheeks as her eyes studied my face, and then they closed with deliberate sluggishness. Her lips parted, invitingly.

She tensed, when I bent forward and touched my lips to hers. When I pulled away, she opened her eyes and stared at my mouth, as if saying, 'That wasn't terrible. I think I want another.'

"Becky, you taste delicious." Then, I kissed her a little longer and a little harder.

When I pulled away again, her lips followed mine, and she mewled unhappily when we separated.

I went back for another, this time using my tongue to tickle her lips. When my tongue retreated, hers advanced to repay my tickle with a tickle. I began to hope she would share herself with me, like we shared our ice cream. If I were giving, she would give back. The possibility of being her first sexual experience gave our tender exchange an elevated eroticism. This was not a moment to rush. This was not a moment at all. It was an event -- an event to relish slowly, and remember forever.

That's why I stopped, and kissed her forehead. "Thank you."

Becky smiled and stroked my cheek. "For what?"

"For sharing yourself -- opening up and letting me get to know you better."

"Well then, I should thank you."

"For what?"

"Making me feel like I'm worth getting to know."

It dawned on me then that her aloofness and rigid principles might be born out of insecurity, and not from a feeling of superiority. She wasn't confident at all. She was afraid to let people close. Maybe because people she loved died.

"Becky, Becky, Becky." I kissed her again with an aching heart and a lump in my throat that rivaled the one in my jeans. "I'm so glad we met today."

"Yeah?"

"It's been a trip. I like hanging out with you."

"Really?"

"Really."

She stood up, and held out her hand. "Then come with me."

I took her hand and she didn't let go of it.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

My mind wandered to all kinds of possibilities, but not this one. The sign in front of the house we approached read 'College Life Ministries'.

"Becky, what's going on?"

"The guy that lives here is a friend of my brother. I've been putting off meeting him. I wanted to be independent, make it on my own. But I need a place to stay. Maybe he'll help."

I almost said 'you can stay with me,' but I had ulterior motives that were purely selfish. For her sake, this was probably a better idea. I gave in, which was totally out of character.

People were singing inside. They sounded like a church choir.

"Maybe we should come back."

She smiled and kissed me sweetly. "No big deal, it's just a Bible study," she said, and pushed the doorbell.

"Bible study! On a Friday night?"

"Beats drugs and drinking."

The door opened before I could offer opposing arguments.

A young couple greeted us.

"Hi. Welcome. I'm Bill Crossway, and this is my wife, Trudy."

He stepped out of the way and waved us in with his one arm. The left sleeve hung empty against his side.

Trudy was a petite woman with a big, toothy smile. "Come in. Join the crowd."

Becky stopped in front of Bill and introduced us. "Hi, I'm Becky Jeffries, and this is my friend, Don Carter."

"Becky Jeffries?" His eyes narrowed, as he studied her face. "You wouldn't be Rebecca Jeffries, J.J.'s little sister?"

She smiled shyly, and said, "Yes, I am."

Crossway yelled, "Praise the Lord!" and hugged Becky with his one arm. "This is great! I'm so glad to finally meet you. Jeremy wrote and said you'd be starting school here. Come in, come in."

Bill went into the living room ahead of us and yelled. "Hey! All you sinners shut up for minute!"

The room fell silent and all eyes turned expectantly.

"I want you to meet the sister of a good friend of mine. This is Rebecca Jeffries, and her friend, Don Carter. If it weren't for her brother Jeremy, I'd be burning in Hell right now. He saved my life and then he showed me the way to save my soul. Make them feel welcome."

Everyone stood and came over. We shook hands. There were too many names to remember.

This was not my kind of crowd. Everything was too nice, too civil. But I didn't want to leave Becky until I knew she had a place to stay.

"Bill, can I talk to you a minute?"

"Sure thing, Don."

We stepped into the foyer for privacy, and Bill asked, "What's up?"

"Becky is having roommate trouble. Her roommate is doing drugs and letting her boyfriend sleep over. I think Becky's been spending nights in the library to avoid the hassle. Is there any chance you could find her a place to live off campus?"

Bill grinned at me. "Are you looking out for her, Don? You're worried about her. I like that. It's nice to know she has some good friends."

With such a favorable first impression, I couldn't tell Bill I'd just met her and I wanted to take her virginity.

"Thanks. Becky's a nice girl. I just want her to be safe. She's really worried about her brother--"

"What's going on?" said Becky, walking up with a serious look.

"I was asking Bill if he'd be able to find a place for you to stay--"

"Without talking to me first?"

From the tone in her voice, I knew I'd blown it.

"Well, I need to get going, and I wanted to make sure you'd be all right--"

"Fine! See-ya around." She marched back into the living room and began chatting with a couple of guys.

My blood surged.

Bill put his hand on my shoulder and smiled with understanding. "Don't worry about Becky. We'll take care of her. She'll be fine."

"Thanks, Bill." Unceremoniously, I walked out the front door.

The loneliness I felt annoyed me. There was only one thing that would make it go away. I headed back to my frat brothers where I belonged.

'White Rabbit' blared from the stereo as I entered the front door. Someone had placed a table lamp on the floor and built a six-foot pyramid of empty plastic cups around it, washing the room with a subdued glow. People danced around it like a tribal fire. I only recognized half the participants. Our Friday night open door policy invited revelers of all variations, which worked in our favor most of the time.

The second keg had just been tapped. Derrick was on guard duty. The frat brothers tried to rotated keg-watch every 30 minutes, after someone left the tap open and flooded the kitchen.

Derrick looked pitiful.

As I filled my cup, I said, "Hey, Man. What's up? Where's Roger?"

"Downstairs."

My head snapped up. Downstairs was our private party room. "Who with?"

"A bunch went down about twenty minutes ago."

I sipped casually. "Any chicks?"

"Patty, Linda, and a couple others."

"Sounds like fun. I think I'll check it out."

Derrick said to my retreating back, "Remind Jimmy he's on keg-watch in ten minutes!"

"Will do."

The door to the party room was locked, so I pulled the house key from my pocket and let myself in. It was like walking into another dimension. The only light was a flashing strobe. Incense and reefer mixed to form a low cloud, as 'In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida' drowned out any other possible sound.

With my back against the door, I took a moment to get my bearings. The center of attention was the four girls seated on the couch. Eight horny guys stood around them like a picket fence. The girls whispered to one another, laughing and passing a joint. These guys were all pussy whipped. I know, because I'd been there.

The record needle scratched to the end and lifted off in a crackle of static. The silence felt deafening for a few seconds.

Patty stood up in the flashing light, shimmied in a circle while jiggling those outstanding boobs, and said, "Time to get this party started!"

Roger walked over to the wall switch and turned on the fluorescent ceiling lights. "Jimmy, get the game."

Quickly, Jimmy opened the closet, while a couple guys put a coffee table in front of the couch.

I smiled at how fast they moved. They were afraid the girls would chicken out.

A redhead I didn't recognize put on a record. 'Paint It Black' began to play and she turned the volume way down.

Jimmy placed the dice, a stopwatch, and a stack of dog-eared index cards on the table.

Roger said, "Everybody rolls to see who goes first."

Harry spotted me. "Hey, D.C., are you in?"

"Not right now. I'm going to spectate."

Patty groaned in disappointment. "Come on, Don."

I just laughed it off. "I'm sure you'll get off without me."

The dice began rolling, and I was forgotten.

"All right!" Jimmy won the honor of being first. He rolled a six. "Yes! Sixty-seconds!"

Everyone hooted and celebrated his good fortune, as he picked up the top card.

Jimmy groaned. "Shit!" and then read aloud to the group, "Pick two people. They must kiss for the allotted time. You cannot be one of them."

Laughter at Jimmy's change of fortune stopped when he held up his hand, demanding silence, and said, "Okay. I choose Patty and the redhead."

Patty was a veteran at this game and, before the redhead could protest, she wrapped her arms around her neck and planted a wet one.

At first the girl squealed in shock and struggled against the affection. But then the intensity of the kiss, her intoxicated condition, and the encouragement from the voyeurs overcame her inhibitions. Her arms pulled Patty tight, crushing their breasts together, and returned the passionate kiss for the last 45 seconds.

As the next person rolled the dice, I realized this was just the kind of immoral behavior Becky accused us of. We were a pack of hedonists, ignoring the limits of decency. It seemed like harmless fun. But maybe, as educated people, we should be taking a higher road.

Deciding to take my turn on keg-watch and let Jimmy stay and play the game, I left the room.

Before the door closed behind me, I heard Roger read the next card. "Fondle someone's chest through their clothes."

Derrick headed downstairs as soon as I release him from the keg.

Sitting backwards on a chair in the kitchen doorway, I people watched.

For the most part, it was a mellow crowd that drifted in and out of the front door. No one appeared totally out of control -- yet. The beer flowed freely and I drank my share.

My keg-watch time ran out, but no one came to relieve me. Jimmy showed up 30 minutes late.

"Thanks, Man, for taking my turn. It's wild down there."

"How wild?"

"Well, let's just say I won't have to jerk off for a week."

"That's because you're impotent, Jimmy."

I stepped out onto the front porch to escape his curses. The fresh air felt good and I took several cleansing breaths.

"D.C.?" Becky walked out of the dark and up the stairs.

"Becky? What happened? Didn't Crossway find you a place to stay?"

Looking nervous and shy, she approached me, and said, "Yes, I'm staying with him and Trudy for now. But I didn't like how we left it between us."

After several seconds of obvious indecision, she said, "I wanted to thank you for being so nice today. I had fun."

I wanted to take her in my arms and feel her body against mine. "You're welcome. I had fun, too. I'm sorry -- for taking off."

She looked past me, into the frat house. "I can see why you had to go. This looks very important." Then she met my eyes with her now familiar sarcastic smirk.

For some reason, I liked that look. It made me feel exposed and accepted all at the same time. I wanted to kiss her crooked mouth.

"Hey, not everything has to be important. Life can be just about fun. You should thaw out once in a while and live a little."

Her jaw clenched, as she held back a spontaneous reply. "Well, anyway... Thanks again."

As she turned to leave, Roger staggered out the front door, bare-chested. "Well looky who we have here! It's the nice piece-of-ass sign from the rally. My balls are still sore, thanks to you." He rubbed them for show.

Becky looked away and said, "I apologize. I shouldn't have done that."

"If you're really sorry, I know how you can make them feel better."

Her lips made a hard line, as her head wrapped around a proper comeback. Finally, she said, "Believe me. I'd only make them feel worse," and turned to leave.

"Don't go. I apologize for being an asshole." Roger grabbed her arm. "Stay and have one beer. We'll have a peace talk."

"Roger, leave her alone."

Becky gave me a hard look, so I put up my hands. "Sorry. I'll keep out of it."

I just didn't get the whole women's lib shit. You never knew what they wanted. I was dammed if I did and damned if I didn't. I went inside for another beer.

Surprisingly, Becky and Roger followed right behind me. Knowing how Roger's lecherous mind worked, this couldn't be good for Becky.

Jimmy winked at Roger, as he filled a cup to the brim and handed it to Becky.

Roger and Becky moved out into the living room. They chatted as amiably as any drunk and sober person could.

Becky glanced around, as if she were using the time to strengthen her case against fraternities in general. I was too far away to hear any of their conversation over 'Nights in White Satin', but Becky seemed fine with whatever bullshit Roger was running. So, after a few minutes, I drained my beer and went to the little boy's room.

When I came back, Becky, Roger, and Jimmy were nowhere in sight. Keg-watch had been abandoned for something more interesting, which made me fear for Becky's reputation. I felt responsible after my 'You should thaw out and live a little' comment. Not knowing her tolerance for alcohol, I wondered how vulnerable Becky would be to coercion.

The party room was pretty much the same as before -- loud music, strobe lit, and smoky. But the people had changed. A new girl had been added. Becky now sat on the couch between Patty and the redhead. Other than Becky, the girls looked wasted and rumpled.

In the flashing strobe, Becky met my gaze as a joint was passed to her. Staring defiantly, she passed it on without a toke.

I don't know why, but I felt relief.

Just when I thought the party might be winding down, Roger turned on the overhead lights and shouted, "Time for round two of 'Come Together'."

Quickly, someone killed the music.

The redhead perked up and raised her fist. "Far out!"

Patty spotted me. "Come on, Don. Play this time. Pretty please?"

Becky continued to stare at me. She didn't ask any questions.

"Sure." I gave up trying to be someone I'm not. Hiding the truth would be hypocritical. Becky was about to see the real me.

I thought, 'Bye, bye, Becky. It was nice knowing you,' and took a seat on the floor next to the coffee table.

Because we had a first time player, the group became wide-awake and attentive. If they only new how inexperience Becky really was, they'd be creaming their pants.

Everyone rolled the dice.

"Yes!" Roger won the first play.

Then he rolled snake eyes. "Twenty seconds."

Roger drew the top card, and read to the group, "Pick two people to hold hands."

It was obvious to me then that the cards had been prearranged. We'd done this before with new people, to ease them into our little game of seduction if we thought they'd be reluctant.

"Patty and Becky, hold hands."

Patty enthusiastically grabbed Becky's hand and kissed the back.

Becky's face flushed, and she smiled shyly.

My heart jumped. I was torn. Part of me wanted to drag her away from these letches. Part of me wanted to see her fall off her pedestal.

The joint got around to me and I passed it on without partaking.

Becky glanced away and smiled. I'd obviously done something she approved of, and it felt good to make her happy.

Jimmy was the next to roll. "Twelve!" Then he read his card. "Give someone a massage."

He looked, one by one, at the three women.

Becky's eyes locked on mine.

"I choose Red."

No surprise. Everyone knew Jimmy had a thing for redheads. I think his mother let him watch too much 'I Love Lucy'.

Red stood up and stepped, a little wobbly, in front of Jimmy. Her bushy Afro framed a pretty, blue eyed, freckled face. She held his stare, as her lips arched into an inviting smile.

Barely audible, Jimmy said, "Hi, Beautiful."

She tipped her head, and answered, "Hi, yourself."

"Where would you like it?"

Apparently no one explained to Red the game's slow seduction process. She turned around and backed against Jimmy. "I want you to rub me the right way, like before." Grabbing his wrists, Red placed his hands over her small tits.