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Introduction:

I learn to love my Catholic School girl.

THE FREAK—Part 2

I picked Barbara up at seven the following night for bowling. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Gleason commented on Barbara’s condition last night so I assumed that they had been in bed when she walked in to the apartment. Barbara confirmed that once we were in the car.

I drove to Mount Vernon, parking in the small lot that was used primarily during the morning for the commercial bakery that occupied the building’s first floor. It was a long climb up the stairs, a bowling bag in each hand and Barbara hanging onto my arm. “Tell me again why you have two balls.” Then she began to laugh before continuing, “Er…bowling balls.”

I just shook my head. Holding up my right hand I explained, “This one is my strike ball. It’s the one I always use to start a frame. If I miss the strike I use the other ball for the spare. Lots of bowlers use more than one ball. I’ll show you how they work once we’re inside.” I leaned over for a second and Barbara, apparently reading my mind brought her lips up to mine for a brief kiss. I opened the door by tucking one bag under my arm and pulling it so Barbara could walk in before me. I led her up to the counter where I was greeted by the owner.

“Hi. J.J….haven’t seen you for a while. Taking a look at your friend here I can understand why.”

“Hi, Stan--this is Barbara. She’ll need a pair of shoes. Barbara, trade him yours for a pair of his then you’ll trade back once we’re done.”

She removed her shoes, telling Stan, “Size six, please.” A minute later we were walking to lane 12 with a large score sheet in Barbara’s hands. We laced up our shoes and I placed my balls on the rack then accompanied Barbara to find her a ball. Stan had come around the counter once he had looked at her hands to show us where to look among the sixteen racks, each of which had at least two dozen balls of various weights. It took us a while, but with Stan’s help we found a 12-pound ball that fit her well.

“Want a couple of practice throws.” I asked. “Stan will turn the machine off for what is called ‘shadow bowling.’ It’s a good way to warm up and get your timing set.” I waved to Stan and he returned the gesture, knowing immediately what I wanted. Then I showed Barbara how to coordinate her approach. I used a four-step approach and suggested that to her. “Just relax and don’t worry about the score.”

“Don’t you think I can beat you?” She sounded serious, but I knew she was only teasing. I’m a very good bowler. I’d bowled in an A-level league for the past two years with my Dad and would do so again once the basketball season was concluded. We’d won the league championship last year with me bowling in the anchor position. I had averaged 203.6, one of the top averages in the league. We spent about ten minutes practicing until I waved at Stan again. The lights went on and we did it for real. I tried to show Barbara that timing and coordination were more important than sheer brute force. In fact, I showed her that brute force was almost always the cause of a split or worse.

We had a great time, just as we did with everything we had done although Barbara did accuse me of cheating when I scored a difficult spare--the 6,7,10 split--left handed. Barbara did well, breaking 100 in each of the three games we bowled. I bowled 177, 184, and 223, my first two games showing the rust from not having thrown a ball in several months. We finished and exited the lanes around nine when I drove us to a nearby Carvel for ice cream sundaes. We were at the end of the apartment complex by 10:15. Barbara seemed pleased at that.

She waited until I had moved over to the center position then rose to straddle my lap once again. She locked those sweet plump lips onto mine in only a second. We went from zero to one hundred--full make-out mode--in less than a second. It was the most passionate kissing I had ever experienced and, knowing of Barbara’s limited experience, I was sure it was for her, also. We were only into it a few minutes when she removed her coat and threw it into the rear seat. Back to kissing, she led my hands to her blouse’s buttons. “Please, Jack. I need your hands on me. Please massage my breasts and do that thing you did last night with my nipples.”

She pressed those hot lips into mine with a ferocity I’d never seen or experienced before. My huge hands pulled her to me, almost crushing her in my embrace and in my passion. Slowly, I moved those powerful hands to the buttons on the front of her blouse. It found a place on the back seat a moment later. Like most guys I struggled with the clasp on her bra until finally freeing up her pert breasts. She brought my hands to them even as the bra flew behind me.

I was deeply engaged in our kiss, massaging her flesh and rolling her nipples between my fingers when she pushed my jacket off my body and began to open the buttons on my shirt. She was efficient; less than two minutes later our upper bodies were naked. “I love the feeling of your skin--your hard strong muscles--against mine, Jack,” she whispered just loud enough that I could hear her over the strains of the radio.

“I have to agree. Your skin is so smooth and soft. It’s like velvet.”

“Can I open your pants, Jack?” Yeah, like I’d complain about having my cock stroked by a hot woman I was rapidly learning to love. She was anything but tentative as her fingers tore at my belt and opened my pants. She reached into my briefs, pulling my manhood--my hard pulsing manhood--out into the cool December air.

Her hand wrapped around me to begin a gentle stroking rhythm. “You know, Jack, people send their daughters to Catholic school for more than one reason. Some want their girls to get a strong religious education.”

“And the others?”

“Well…mostly they want to keep them away from boys.”

“Does that actually work?”

“Sometimes, I guess, but other times I don’t think so. If a girl wants to get involved with a boy there isn’t much the parents can do.”

“So, which one are you?”

I could see Barbara’s wry smile in the dashboard light. “I’d say the first kind until I met you. Now, I don’t think anyone could keep me away from you.” I leaned forward and we kissed again then I leaned down to suckle at her breasts. Suckling, I pulled her hard sensitive nipple between my teeth causing Barbara to gasp audibly and arch her back in an expression of her ecstasy.

Suddenly, she stood up as well as one can in the front seat of a car and slid her slacks down her legs, her panties following seconds later. “I hope the cops don’t show up,” I laughed.

“Me, too,” she replied. “Maybe we should lie down or, even better, why don’t you lie down. I want to be here.” She knelt then on the floor while she pushed my head toward the driver’s seat. “You know, Jack…what do you think girls in a school without boys talk about?’

“Boys, of course.”

“You’re right, and mostly they talk about the things they’ve done with boys. They talk a lot about them fondling their breasts and their pus…er, vaginas…jerking boys off and doing this.” I looked down just as she opened her mouth to lick around my cock’s head. She went around twice then tested her tongue in my pee hole. “Is this where your stuff came from?”

“Yes. You probably know that women have two separate channels--the urethra for urine and the vagina for fun.”

She looked up, shaking her head and laughing. “You’re terrible! Is it really that much fun?”

“No…it’s a hell of a lot more. It’s the most fun thing I’ve ever done, but more than that is the intimacy--the sharing between two people. Of course, not everyone makes love. Some people just….”

“Fuck?”

“Yeah, but what makes it special is when two people really care for each other.”

“You sound as though you’ve had that kind of relationship.”

“I did…last year, but her dad got transferred to Seattle and that was the end of that. We liked each other a lot, but I don’t know if it would have become love.”

“I’m sorry.”

I looked straight into her eyes as I whispered, “I’m not. If I was still with her it’s likely I would never have met you.” I was silent then, but it was enough. Barbara knew how I felt about her and I knew how she felt about me.

Her hand was slowing, making its way up and down my shaft the entire time, until she stopped suddenly. “You know, Jack, this is nothing like I imagined. The skin here is so soft and smooth and it’s loose so when I stroke you it moves with my hand.”

“I think that’s to prevent friction burns on the skin although that doesn’t always work.”

“Hmmm…maybe, but up here on the head it’s so spongy. Why?”

“Truthfully, I have no idea. Maybe so when I push into you it doesn’t hurt your cervix too badly. I understand that can be painful.”

Barbara laughed. “I wouldn’t know. Maybe someday, but not tonight; I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I don’t think either of us is quite ready for that—not if we want a real meaningful relationship. We can take care of each other much like we did last night.” I leaned forward to kiss her again as her stroking resumed. I slid into the passenger seat and pulled her up to sit at my left. Her hand had never left my cock as she moved and now she was in perfect position. My left hand around her neck and shoulders attended to her nipples; it was large enough to cover both at the same time while my right attended to business between Barbara’s legs.

My hands are huge and powerful, but I could and would be gentle and loving as I began to lightly rub her labia. I stayed there for more than five minutes while Barbara and I kissed, swapping spit and wrestling with our tongues. I must have been getting to Barbara because she slid forward on the seat, spreading her legs even wider to increase my access to her core. I responded by slowly pushing my finger into her tunnel. Knowing that she was a virgin I moved with the utmost care.

Now, I’ve fingered roughly a dozen girls, but none of them had been as responsive as Barbara was. She moaned in rapture the second that my finger entered her and then she began to move on my finger, essentially fucking herself on my digit. My thumb moved naturally up to her clit and I was momentarily shocked. I had licked her last night, but my tongue—other than taste--is hardly the most discerning part of my body. Now that I was feeling her clit I realized that it was much bigger than I had thought. It felt as though it was at least an inch long and roughly half as wide as it protruded from its protective hood

I rolled it as I did her nipples. She came immediately, her left hand tightly gripping my head as her right went crazy on my cock. There was no way that I could resist and, as she was coming down, I shot my first thick rope of viscous white semen almost three feet into the air. It landed on Barbara’s chest and abdomen. Five more times my cock erupted, every drop finding its way onto her sensitive skin.

She fell back onto the seat, her breathing deep and irregular and rapid. I watched in amazement as she rubbed my semen into her skin. She looked up into my eyes and I could see her love, just as I prayed she could see the love in mine. Then, suddenly, the mood was lost and Barbara laughed. “I have to say, Jack--that was amazing. What you did to me was something…it was more than I could ever imagine. You weren’t kidding when you said it would get all over the place. I guess that’s what it will do in my pussy.”

Then she stopped, realizing what she had just said even though we both knew that she wasn’t anywhere near ready. This was 1960, after all, and most girls expected to be virgins right up until the day they wed.

I held her close then whispered, “Aren’t you cold?”

“No, I have my…I have you to keep me warm.”

“All the same, I think we need to get dressed.” I started the car to activate the heater then leaned over the seat to retrieve our clothes. Dressing was actually funny. I was holding her bra when I told her, “I think this is yours.”

“I should hope so. You have a big chest, but I doubt you’ll ever need a bra.” We laughed as we wriggled around, pulling shirts and sweaters down and pants up. Finally, after almost ten minutes we were actually presentable.

Barbara had her head resting against my chest when she looked up at me and asked, “Jack…are we going steady?”

I couldn’t stifle a little chuckle. “Well…I can’t speak for you, but I am and I think I have been ever since I stopped you from falling.”

Barbara responded by punching me in the chest. It was just a little one, more to get my attention than anything else. “How can a person who is so smart in most respects be so dumb about a relationship?”

“It’s a guy thing,” I replied, a deadpan expression on my face. “I think it’s one of the few genes on the Y-chromosome, but I’m glad you’re willing.”

“Not willing, Jack…eager. Now, what do you say we stop talking and….” That was all she had to say.


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I had a little helper when I picked Barbara up for church the following morning. Carole ran into the apartment the second Barbara stepped out of her room. She bent at the waist to hug my little sister then, holding her hand, walked up to me, kissing my cheek. We said good-bye to the Gleason’s and walked down to my car. “J.J. told me we’re going on a trip after breakfast, Barbara.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it a trip, but we are driving to my school and then to Jack’s. It’s practice for Tuesday so I can see Jack play then.”

“You can sit next to me. I’ll save a space for you,” Carole replied enthusiastically. Barbara kissed Carole’s cheek and we walked down the stairs to my car.

We got to the church early enough that Barbara and Carole could go to confession, something I never did. If I was going to confess my sins I was going to do it straight to God, but—personally—I thought the practice was silly, especially when everyone knew that there were so-called sins that were certain to be repeated week after week after week. Anyway, we all went to receive communion, even me. Not twenty minutes later we were seated in a booth at the diner.

Barbara and Carole sat next to each other and I had to laugh at how easily Barbara had won my sister over. I waited until we had ordered before telling Carole to explain why she was with us this morning. “What are you going to do for Christmas, Barbara? We talked about that last night at dinner and we all want you to do it with our family.”

“Who is ‘we all?’”

“Our whole family—we all want you to join us. We always go to Midnight Mass then open our presents when we get home. I bought you a present.”

“That’s nice, Carole. Barbara bought one for you, too.” Barbara looked at me in surprise and I nodded just slightly when Carole’s attention turned to her. “I’ve seen the present and I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“You can stay overnight, too. You can sleep in my bed in my room.” I explained how all three of my sisters were involved in girl scouts and how they all had sleeping bags. “Yeah,” Carole added. “I’ve slept there plenty of times like when Nana French comes to stay. Please!”

“Where will you be, Jack?”

“My room is the big family room behind the kitchen. When our parents knew that they were expecting they realized that we’d need another bedroom. The one Carole is in used to be mine and it’s really small—just enough room for a twin bed, desk, and dresser. It made sense for me to move downstairs, especially since I’ll be out of the house fairly soon. I didn’t say anything last night because Carole wanted to ask you. I know you need to spend some time with the Gleason’s so I was thinking why don’t we give them our present the afternoon of Christmas Eve?”

“Our present?”

“Yeah. Remember you told me that they wanted something, but couldn’t afford it.”

“Jack! You didn’t! That’s too expensive!”

“Barbara, you know I have plenty of money. I rarely spend it on myself although recently I’ve found a really good reason to spend some.” I was surprised when Barbara actually blushed. She agreed to talk it over with Mr. and Mrs. Gleason and let me know at Tuesday’s game.

After breakfast we loaded Carole into the rear seat then I walked Barbara over to the driver’s door. She hesitated for a second before reaching up to kiss me. A minute later she was cruising down the road, following the bus route to her high school in Yonkers. We drove past the entrance to Siwanoy Country Club—the road that led to my school—then on to Bronxville and Yonkers. All told the trip took us about thirty minutes with more than half the time from Pelham to the Siwanoy entrance. From there school was less than five minutes away.

We reversed course and, sure enough, Barbara made the return trip in less than fifteen minutes. I reminded her that there would likely be more traffic on Tuesday afternoon. From school she drove us to our house where Carole and I exited. Of course, Carole had to ask if Barbara was going to kiss me. She laughed as she replied, “What do you think?” Then she gripped my head strongly and placed me into a most enjoyable lip lock for almost a minute while Carole giggled. I closed the door behind her and stood watching as she backed out and drove away. Carole ran into the house to immediately tell my parents about the kiss and lending my car to Barbara. They didn’t say anything then, but I wasn’t surprised when they said they wanted to speak to me later that evening after my sisters were all in bed.

“Jack,” my father began just as I was about to shower and turn in. “Your mother and I would like to talk with you about your relationship with Barbara. I…we never thought you would lend a girl your car, especially one you’ve only known for a few weeks.”

“I understand your concern, Dad…Mom, so let me explain. I told you about the flash when I saw Barbara fall. I didn’t share the second flash I had that day That one was much longer and in vivid detail. It showed an elderly couple—mid-eighties, at least. They appeared to be in a hospital room with the woman in the bed. Even for that brief period their absolute love for each other was totally clear. The man was obviously me and the woman was clearly Barbara. I couldn’t tell if she was dying or just sick, but they had matching wedding bands.

“Since then I’ve had at least one flash every day, but mostly I would say two or three a day and they are all about our life together. I can tell you this—you’re going to be grandparents several times over and fairly soon. I’ve had plenty of other girlfriends, but Barbara will be my last.

“Last night she asked if we were going steady and we both agreed we were. I hope you like her because you’ll be seeing her a lot.”

“We do like her very much, Jack. We were only concerned. Have any of these flashes turned out to be false or misleading?”

“No, Mom…never. I think in this case they’re influenced by my feelings for her. Not only is she a beautiful young woman, but she’s a beautiful person—actually more beautiful than her physical being. Thanks for your concern, but I’m okay…actually much better than okay. If there’s nothing else I’m going to shower and go to bed.” I rose, kissed and hugged my mom and dad then disappeared to the back of the house.


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The next two days—the last before a lengthy Christmas holiday—dragged like you wouldn’t believe. Finally, after what felt more like two months than two days I took the books I needed from my locker and walked straight to the team locker room to tape, dress, and go through my other revolting ritual. I felt as though my body had been turned inside out when I finally made my way to the court. I was pleased to see Barbara sitting with my family—right between Carole and Marie. She saw me look her way and smiled and waved. I smiled back then joined the layup line with my teammates.

Gorton was a big high school in Yonkers—much bigger than we were—and they’d had a long line of superior players like Jimmy Albin who had been All-County with me last year. I knew he wouldn’t make it this year, our last, because he had succumbed to the temptations of cocaine. I told him when we shook hands, “Jimmy, you need to get off that shit before it kills you.” He glared at me in response then we went out and cleaned their clocks. I had a game like the one with New Rochelle except that the team didn’t need to run the offense through me every time. Still, the basket seemed to be as big as the ocean. I couldn’t and didn’t miss, and when I did it was because I was fouled. We pressed and ran our fast break off every steal, turnover, and rebound, running up the score like no game I’ve ever known. We scored 63 points in the first half alone. That was about 4.5 points per minute. We scored at an impossible rate, continuing with forty in the third quarter before Coach Darling replaced the starters with our subs.

I only took eighteen shots the entire game, a few below my normal number, but I made seventeen of them including fifteen in a row, and they weren’t all layups or dunks either. I wound up with thirty-nine and two of my teammates had more than twenty. The other two starters were also in double figures as we went over the one-hundred mark—all the way to 115--for the third time this season. As anticipated, Jimmy played poorly, turning the ball over numerous times and missing many more shots than he made.
Carole ran to me once the game had ended to hug me and kiss my sweaty face. She was holding on to one side of my face when Barbara hugged me on the other side and kissed my lips, holding it for almost a minute. I finally freed myself as Barbara and Carole laughed. They were holding hands when I hustled to the locker room and a much needed shower. I learned how much my parents had accepted my remarks and Barbara when I returned to the gym. Barbara and Carole were there waiting for me. Barbara had been invited to join us for dinner.

It was a fun time—sausage pizza and Italian salad—for all. Looking back I realized that it was the beginning of our serious relationship. I drove her home at 8:00, but didn’t return until 9:35. Barbara only lived ten minutes away, especially at that hour when there was little traffic. I swear, my mom laughed for five minutes when I walked in the door.

Christmas was on a Saturday so most businesses other than retail outlets were closed on Friday, Christmas Eve. I picked Barbara up at 11:00 and returned after lunch to her apartment in my Jeep, the rear compartment filled with a large box that I carried up the stairs to their apartment. Rather than unlock the door and walk in Barbara rang the doorbell so we could yell “Merry Christmas” when it was opened. I carried the large gift-wrapped box into the living room as Barbara hugged her foster parents, something I did only a few seconds later.

They had small gifts for us—a sweater for Barbara and short-sleeved dress shirt for me. We thanked them enthusiastically before they opened their large box. Barbara had told me that they had a TV, but it was old and barely worked. The box contained a “portable” set and a stand on wheels that could be moved from the living room to one of the bedrooms using a long antenna cable that we had also included. I spent half an hour putting the pieces of the stand together and moving the set into place. Finally, I connected the thin cable to the set and then to the wall socket and plugged it in. They were obviously well pleased and thanked us—mostly me—repeatedly before we had to leave around 5:15.

“That was really sweet of you, Jack. They’d never be able to afford a new TV.”

“They’re nice people and they deserve some of the better things in life. They’ve done a great job raising you. I’ll be forever grateful for that.” She gave me a funny look and was just about to say something, but apparently decided not to. She scooted over on the seat, gripped my head with her left hand and my cock in her right then she leaned forward until our lips met.

Her tongue was in my mouth a second later. My hands found strategic areas of her body, rubbing her labia until her panties were soaked. Reluctantly, we broke the kiss. We didn’t have the time and this certainly wasn’t the place. There were stores with lights and illuminated signs. We smiled, kissed again briefly, and I pulled out into traffic. Fifteen minutes later I parked across the street from my parents’ home.

Carole, of course, was hyper about Christmas just like any young child would be. I thought that Barbara’s presence was a positive calming factor on her. They sat on the living room floor and played War, Barbara obviously cringing for effect every time Carole won a War much to Carole’s amusement. I wasn’t at all surprised when Carole won two games. Nor was I surprised to see Barbara’s unending patience in dealing with my sister. It was just about six when my mother called us to the dining room table.

Our traditional Christmas Eve meal was nothing more than deli fare—boiled ham, deli-made roast beef, Swiss cheese, and a choice of white or deli rye bread. We had potato salad and something the deli called health salad which all of us loved and, of course a big kosher dill pickle. Naturally, we had a wide choice of drinks as long as that choice was milk. There was plenty to eat and clean-up was a breeze. Barbara and I placed all of the dishes into the dishwasher and started it.

Shower time is always challenging when you have six people—four females—and only two bathrooms. I stayed in the living room so Barbara, my sisters Marie and Carole could use my bathroom at the rear of the house. After her shower Barbara joined me in the living room dressed only in her robe, her hair still damp. She looked around and, realizing that my folks and siblings were all upstairs, flashed me a quick look at her tits. I’d seen them before, of course, but I still marveled at their faultless beauty. Their shape was sheer perfection in my opinion and they were actually bigger than I had originally thought. Her areolas were about the size of a quarter with large puffy nipples that were perfect for licking, suckling, and rolling between my fingers. I quickly kissed each one then her lips before she closed the robe and walked upstairs.

My room was deserted when I closed the door, but the bathroom was a mess with towels on the floor and basin. I rolled them up and threw them down the basement stairs where one of us would pick them up for the laundry, probably tomorrow. Yes, laundry was done even on Christmas day.
I had shaved and showered and dressed in my dark grey suit, starting long after the women, but finishing long before. Dad joined me in the living room and we shared a laugh. “Get used to it, Jack.” We laughed again then waited until 11:20 when we drove to church, wanting to find seats in one row for all of us. Carole joined Barbara and me for the short ride. Midnight Mass was always held in the church hall so I parked on the street just past it knowing that we could get away quickly once Mass was done.

Carole was on my right and holding my hand with Barbara holding the other as we carefully crossed the street, meeting the rest of the family at the hall’s entrance. We found a row of chairs near the rear and entered—Mom, Dad, my sister Marie, Angela, Carole, and finally—Barbara and me. I almost laughed when I looked down the row to see Barbara holding Carole’s hand, but stopped when she leaned forward to take mine, too.

We rose when the priest strode in to begin the Mass, but I also leaned across Barbara to kiss my little sister and wish her a merry Christmas before repeating with Barbara. “Merry Christmas,” I whispered, “the first of many.” She accepted my kiss on her cheek, but I could see the confusion on her face. I gave her another quick one and turned my attention to the Mass.

One of the good things about Mass in the church hall was that we didn’t have to kneel. Instead, we sat, leaning forward slightly. We took Communion, Carole again holding hands with Barbara and me. Seeing us together the priest must have thought we were a young family and paused briefly to bless us, much to Barbara’s and my amusement. We walked out into the cold December morning just before 1:00 a.m. and were home less than fifteen minutes later.

This was the time that we traditionally opened our presents from Santa and our family. I helped Dad and my sisters bring piles of wrapped gifts down from my parents’ bedroom to the living room where they were sorted into piles on the floor. Then I retreated to my closet, carrying a big armful of boxes that I placed mostly in front of Barbara before doing it all over again, this time with presents for my sisters and parents.

Barbara and I sat on a couch while the sisters took the floor and my parents sat on a large sectional in the opposite corner of their huge living room. I thought Carole would tear into her gifts as she always did, but instead she walked up to Barbara to ask her, “Will you open mine first? I bought it with my own money.” Barbara took the small package and shook it, causing Carole to laugh crazily. Then Barbara acted as though she couldn’t get it open and asked for Carole’s help which was eagerly given. Inside was a small spiral notebook, roughly 2.5 inches by four.

“I love it, Carole. It’s perfect for keeping my assignments and homework for school and pink is my favorite color. Thank you so much.” Then she hugged and kissed my sister who was thrilled. Looking across the room I could once again see how pleased my parents were.

Carole ran to her pile returning a few seconds later with a good-sized box with a label that said—to Carole from Barbara and J.J. “Will you help me open it, Barbara,” she asked. Barbara slipped to the floor and turned the box upside down before showing Carole where to tear the paper. Carole’s eyes were the size of saucers as she saw the present she had begged for only for weeks before this blessed day. Inside were bunny slippers and a special bunny robe. She had her shoes off in a blur of motion and the slippers and robe on almost as quickly before leaping forward to hug and thank Barbara and, as an obvious afterthought, me.

Everyone began to open their gifts. My first was a silk tie from Barbara. I thanked her with a kiss. Her first was a woolen cap and glove set in a red, black, and green plaid from my sister Angela. Next was a matching scarf from Marie, my middle sister. My parents had bought her a cardigan sweater—gray, and then she reached for my gifts. The first small box had come from Harry Winston, the world famous jeweler. She opened the box and gasped. “I know the good sisters won’t let you wear anything around your neck but a cross. It’s platinum and so is the chain. Platinum is a lot stronger than gold so it should last you a long time.”

“Are these real diamonds?”

“Yeah, and that’s a ruby in the center. I hope you like it.”

Her eyes showed pure adoration as she replied, “I love it. I really do. It’s beautiful.” She put it down to pick up the next box. She held it up and was about to shake it when I suggested that might be a really bad idea. Instead, she opened it carefully. Under the wrapping paper was another Harry Winston box. Her hand went to her mouth when she opened the box. The diamond and opal pendant with matching earrings and ring were truly exquisite. The opal was her October birthstone. “Oh, Jack! It’s too much! I bought you a tie!”

“Yeah, and I love it. I can’t wait to wear it. You spent within your means and so did I. Merry Christmas!” Barbara took one more look then closed the box and pulled me into a long kiss. As expected, Carole was standing next to us when she broke it. “Carole, there is something about your brother….”

“Yeah, I love him, too.”

I had also bought her a knee-length coat made from water-resistant nylon with a hood and a removable merino wool lining for real warmth and two dresses suitable for a fancy dinner or party. All of the gifts , had been opened by 1:45 so my mother retired to the kitchen to start the oven for the rolls that were also a part of our traditional breakfast. We broke up for bed and sleep by 2:30. I kissed Barbara good night then she whispered, “I guess it really was my lucky day when you saved me, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,’ I thought. “It was my lucky day, too.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss me and that was when we heard the giggle just above the landing where the stairs turned ninety degrees before continuing to the second floor. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed,” I asked with a ferocity that all three of us knew I could never have toward my sister.

“I just wanted to kiss Barbara goodnight again,” Carole said with another giggle. Then she bounded down the stairs to hug and kiss my girlfriend for at least the tenth time. I scooped her up into my arms as she laughed again to hug her and give her a kiss complete with what was known at the time as a “Bronx cheer” in which my lips vibrated wetly onto her cheek. Carole claimed to hate it, but we both knew differently. I put her down and swatted her behind playfully as she finally ran all the way up the stairs.

“Finally,” I whispered. “I agree…it was a very lucky day for me, too. And, every day since has been just as lucky.” Barbara obviously agreed as she moved into my arms. This time there were no giggles, only the quiet sound of two pair of lips meeting in unbridled passion, my arms tightly around her body and hers wrapped almost as tightly around my neck. We held the kiss for almost five minutes before she whispered that she’d better go. She gave me a quick peck before ascending the stairs. I turned out the rest of the living room lights and moved to my room at the back of the house where I fell immediately into the deepest sleep.


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Christmas day was always spent either trying out new toys or trying on new clothes although I did receive a great spinning reel and rod that I really wanted last year. I had Barbara go first, using my bathroom to give me a fashion show with her new coat, dresses, and sweater from my parents. She even tried out the new hat, gloves, and scarf from my sisters. I wasn’t at all surprised that everything fit, but Barbara was mystified until I explained about having several flashes that had told me everything I needed to know. Last of all she tried on her new jewelry. Everyone agreed that her opal and diamond set was exquisite and elegant simultaneously. “You can wear the set and one of the dresses on Tuesday.”

“Huh?”

“That’s when I’m taking you to see “Irma la Douce” and to dinner. I have basketball practice at 9:00, but you can come if you wish.”

“Are you going to…you know?”

I laughed. “No, that only happens before a game, thank God!” Everyone laughed then, even Barbara.

Then she asked, “What’s going to happen this afternoon?”

“We’re going to visit my mother’s parents and her family.”

“Don’t worry about learning everyone’s name,” Angela interrupted. “I can’t tell who half of them are either.”

“You’ll recognize my grandparents,” I continued. “That’ll be easy. Also, you’ll meet my Aunt Debbie and Uncle Dave. She’s my mother’s closest sister and a very good friend. She’s also my godmother so you’ll no doubt see her again. Then there are her sons—David, who’s my age; Kenny, who’s Angela’s age; and Brian, who’s roughly Marie’s age. You’ll also meet our cousin Richard and his parents. David, Kenny, Richard, and I usually go bowling as soon as we can get out of there which is right after we eat. For some reason Nanny Harris always makes a big turkey for everyone even though she’s almost ninety. Mom is the youngest of eight children…good Irish Catholics.” Barbara laughed and we all joined her.

Barbara and I spent more than an hour playing Chutes and Ladders with Carole. I realized then that she had missed out on all of the family interaction that I had always taken for granted. I was tired long before Barbara was and I thought that might be the reason why Carole liked her so much. Then I had a flash and realized that I was wrong. There was something that Barbara had that made Carole love her. Of course, her love for Barbara wasn’t of the romantic kind that I held for her. Watching her now interacting with Carole and Marie I understood completely even though I’m a guy and we’re all a little dense about stuff like this.

We showered and dressed—casual clothes—and left for my grandparents’ apartment at 3:00, my bowling balls in my trunk, Barbara next to me and my littlest sister in the back with her head securely between mine and Barbara’s. They lived on a main street in a not so great section of New Rochelle. In fact, they actually lived ON Main Street. I found a parking spot just down the block and we all clambered out of the car, my arms full of presents for our grandparents and for my Aunt and Uncle, the ones I actually knew.

After living with foster parents I was sure that Barbara was overwhelmed by the sea of people in the apartment. We had waited for our parents because it was just easier that way, mostly because I didn’t know everyone’s name and probably never would. Dad handled the gifts and Mom the introductions while I took the coats to the bedroom where I dropped them onto the bed.

My grandparents had what I had learned was a “railroad car” apartment. It was long and relatively narrow with the living room, parlor, bedroom, dining room, and kitchen in a straight line. There was but a single bathroom adjacent to the kitchen and, because the apartment occupied the entire side of the building there were plenty of windows for ventilation in the warm weather. I returned as quickly as possible to Barbara’s side and I would have taken her hand had two of my sisters not held them already. I shooed them away with a laugh and led Barbara to the dining room where I found my cousins. That was hardly a surprise. As much as I loved to eat there was no way I could keep up with David. All of my cousins attended Catholic high schools—David at Iona Prep, Kenny and Brian at Salesian—both in New Rochelle--and Richard somewhere else in the Bronx. We weren’t as close as the others, but we got along and I guessed that was enough. I introduced Barbara, noticing David’s obvious and lecherous interest. He was about to make a comment and had he done so it would have ruined his Christmas, for sure. He noticed the steely look in my eyes and returned to his turkey breast sandwich.

I helped Barbara to a plate with some white meat, stuffing, and mashed potatoes with gravy then assisted her to a seat. There were plenty around the large room. I grabbed the last drumstick and some stuffing. That would be more than enough. We ate and drank apple cider as Barbara got acquainted with my cousins. Half an hour later we all walked out the door having hugged my parents, grandparents, and my aunt and uncle—David’s and Kenny’s parents. They jumped into David’s beater, a 1950 Dodge coupe while we took my Olds, driving all the way to the lanes in Eastchester, just up the road from Albanese’s restaurant, the site of our first real date.

I knew we would have a wait for an open lane so we used the time to find shoes and a ball for Barbara and Kenny and Richard. David had his own. We had spent quite a few Saturday nights bowling together last year once we were old enough to drive, but not yet all that interested in dating.

There were five of us on but a single lane so three games took almost three hours. I had always enjoyed bowling with my cousins and today was no different except that most of my attention went to Barbara rather than beating David into oblivion. He was an excellent athlete and would have been better than me had I not been struck by lightning. He averaged almost 190, but I had two games over 225 and one of 197. Barbara broke 125 all three times, just edging out Richard who was clearly no athlete.

We left just after eight that night, turning down David’s invitation to stay for a pizza in the bowling alley snack bar. Barbara and I had something else in mind. I was sure that my cousins knew what was afoot, but wisely had kept their mouths closed. I was bigger and stronger than the three of them combined and they all knew that I’d never accept any kind of insult to her. It was fifteen minutes later that we found our usual spot at the end of the apartments. I had the engine off, but the radio on, and I was glad that the holiday music had come to an end. I had always found it fun at first, but I was more than tired of it long before Christmas had arrived.

Barbara was in my embrace as soon as the engine was off, not that she had far to go. She was almost in my lap all the way to what had become our favorite make-out spot. We kissed passionately for maybe five minutes before Barbara’s hands found my belt, opening my zipper and pants in less than a minute. I raised my hips so she could lower both pants and briefs easily. My butt’s first contact with the bare leather seat was shocking—that was for sure, but Barbara’s warm hands on my cock and balls heated me up in a hurry.

I broke my embrace to remove her jacket then her blouse and bra. She helped with her slacks and panties and less than two minutes later we were totally naked writhing around in my front seat. I knew we weren’t going to have sex—not penetrative genital sex, but we would both cum sometime in the near future, hopefully more than once for her. The sensation of her velvet skin against mine was almost more than I could handle.

I lay on the seat under Barbara’s beautiful and sexy body with her perfect breasts, flat tummy and graceful hips all within my reach. My cock was hard and oozing pre-cum trapped between our bodies. We kissed again, dry humping each other until Barbara sat up, reaching for the glove box and my dwindling supply of condoms. I joined her sitting just as she rolled the latex shield down my shaft. “It’s really amazing the things I’ve learned since I began dating you,” she joked. Then she kissed me quickly and began her stroking.

Her delicate hands with their long fingers were surprisingly strong as they wrapped around me. Tighter and tighter she gripped me as her hands moved with blurring speed. I came suddenly with a powerful thrust of my hips. Five more times semen exploded into the condom’s tip until it was filled to overflowing. I fell back onto the seat exhausted from my sweet ordeal, watching as Barbara expertly slipped the used condom from my wilting organ. A few seconds later she threw the gooey mess out the window and then surprised the hell out of me by extending her tongue to my cock’s tip. “Hmmm. Some of the girls at school have talked about the taste. It’s not as bad as I thought…a little salty, but not bad.”

“I’m glad you approve. I love the way you taste, by the way, and I plan a lengthy sample in a few minutes—my final Christmas present to you.” Barbara said nothing, but then she didn’t have to. Her smile said it all. I waited about five minutes before lifting her and laying her back onto the seat with her long shapely legs on either side of my head.

I began by gently kissing each of her silken thighs from her knees to her labia. Up and down I went, teasing her mercilessly until she was shaking in rabid anticipation. Long strokes with the broad of my tongue enflamed her labia until I gently penetrated her. I was using my tongue as I would a vacuum to slurp up as much of her nectar as possible. It was a losing battle in that regard, though. She was producing faster than any machine, let alone a human tongue, could possibly remove. She was shaking wildly and moaning almost non-stop by the time my mouth moved up to its ultimate target, her hot swollen bud.

Sucking it between my teeth brought her to her first explosive orgasm as she screamed into the night. She came again after only two minutes’ gnawing, leaving her a panting groaning mess. I held her closely, but tenderly, warming her with my body at first then pulling her clothes from the back seat and helping her to dress even though I did most of the work. I threw my clothes on quickly then relaxed, listening to the radio and talking quietly with and loving Barbara.

I drove her home an hour later. My arms were full of her presents when she reached up for our final kiss of the day. “Thank you, Jack, for the best Christmas I’ve ever had. I never realized how much I missed having a family like yours. Good night, Jack. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I kissed her again then stood back while she opened the door. I carried her gifts in and placed them carefully under the tree. After a quick kiss, I was gone. It had been a long, but wonderful day for me, too.


>>>>>>

By agreement Barbara and I skipped Mass Sunday morning. I always thought that once a weekend was enough and, apparently, she agreed. Besides, Christmas had been an exhausting day. I did pick her up around 5:30 for dinner before a movie. Mr. and Mrs. Gleason thanked me again for their new TV telling me that they especially enjoyed watching it in bed.

They asked about my family’s Christmas so I answered whatever questions they had. Barbara had told them a lot, but there was always room for more. They were especially interested in hearing about my sisters. I was just telling them about Carole when Barbara walked out of her room to kiss my cheek. We left a minute later. I drove her to a restaurant that my parents liked. It was nothing special, but the food was decent and the setting was fairly elegant.

We sat at a banquette which we both enjoyed quite a bit more than either a table or a booth because we had plenty of room and our hands could roam with almost total privacy. I only knew that she had me hard before the salads had been delivered and she kept me that way until I paid the check with my credit card. I’d gotten the card at the suggestion of my financial manager—the person who saw to it that my bills were paid on time and that I had enough cash for my normal expenses. For that I had purchased a New York Tax-Free Bond Mutual Fund that brought me just over two percent on about $150,000—more winnings from the track over the past two years. Now that I was eighteen I’d be going even more often and I’d take Barbara with me.

The vacation was almost magical. I picked Barbara up at her apartment by 8:30 every morning, arriving at school just in time to tape and dress for practice. I was done and showered and we were out the door by 11:40. Then it was a quick lunch, usually at a nearby deli or Italian restaurant, before driving to the Mount Vernon Public Library just two blocks from my dad’s shop. We both had long research papers that were due about a week after the break had ended. The one exception was Tuesday when Barbara and I carried her dress and shoes to my car in the morning and we showered and dressed at my home in preparation for our train ride into Manhattan for dinner and the play.

We went to a Chinese restaurant only a few blocks off Broadway. Because we were early we enjoyed a leisurely stroll after dinner to the theater. “That was the best Chinese food I’ve ever had, Jack. Mostly, all I’ve ever had was chicken chow mein. I really liked that yellow rice with the pork in it.”
Barbara’s hand was looped in my arm as we walked. Manhattan is pretty safe, but that didn’t stop me from keeping an eye out for trouble which, fortunately, stayed away. We walked up to the Will Call window more than thirty minutes before curtain. I checked our coats and led Barbara to the bar. New York at the time was the only state I knew of where the minimum age for drinking was eighteen and not twenty-one. “Why don’t we celebrate with a glass of champagne?”

Barbara shot me a wry smile as she asked, “Oh…and what might we be celebrating?”

“How about my lucky day at Mass?” We both knew when that was—the day that we’d met and I’d saved her life. We both had our ID’s out as we approached the bar. They were checked carefully, even to the point of asking our addresses and dates of birth. We walked away, flute in hand, once I had paid.

“To lucky days…for both of us,” Barbara said as we touched glasses and took our first sip. I rarely drank alcohol—booze and sports didn’t mix well—and Barbara had never asked so Coke or Pepsi had been our norm until this moment. I wasn’t overly fond of champagne, but it fit the bill this evening. Looking over the rim of the flute I took note once again of Barbara’s beauty. Her hair shone like moonlight on the waves of Long Island Sound near my parent’s bungalow. The iridescence of the opals and sparkle of the diamonds on her necklace and earrings was matched only by the twinkle of her eyes.

Apparently, I wasn’t the only person to think so because an older woman stopped by to comment, “Your jewelry is really striking, my dear.”

“Thank you, ma’am; they were a Christmas present from my boyfriend.”

“Well, he must really love you to buy such a beautiful gift.” She smiled as I nodded in reply. We finished our drinks and walked into the theater to find our seats. Two years later we went to see the movie and we laughed just as hard as we did that evening. There were times when we both had tears in our eyes. That was just how hard we were laughing.

We caught a cab after the play and were back in Pelham just in time for the submarine races. This time I took care of Barbara first; her orgasms leaving her semi-conscious when my teeth finally released her swollen clit. I caressed her lovingly—stroking her cheek and running my fingers through her hair--as she slowly recovered. It was some time later that she spoke. “I never dreamed that a boy would want to have my…well, you know, in his mouth just as I never thought I’d want to have his in mine. But…I think I’d like to try it even if I have no idea what I should do.”

“Just don’t use your teeth, okay?” She smiled in the dim light as she leaned forward. Her tongue found the helmet of my cock, swirling around it several times before lowering her entire mouth to my shaft. She used her hand to gently stroke me as her head bobbed up and down, her tongue teasingly washing me with every stroke. Damn! For an amateur she was doing one hell of a job.

I doubted that she was ready to swallow so I gave her plenty of advance notice. “I’m getting close, Barbara. You need to move.” She did—just in time, directing my spray to her gorgeous breasts. The thick viscous liquid oozed slowly down their gentle slope. I was about to reach into the back seat for a towel I’d brought for exactly this reason when Barbara shocked the daylights out of me. Using her finger she scooped a dollop of semen from her left breast, licking it clean a second later. I sat there in utter amazement as all the semen on her chest found its way to her stomach.
She laughed when she saw the expression on my face. “I told you I thought the taste was interesting, didn’t I? I find I like it even more than I thought. I think next time I’ll just take all of it into my mouth. Would you like that?”

I couldn’t help laughing. “Take a wild guess!” Barbara joined me, laughing crazily until we realized how loud we were. We dried ourselves with the towel and dressed. My watch said 12:30 exactly when she walked into her apartment.


>>>>>>

Friday was New Year’s Eve and after practice we went to my house for lunch and relaxing before dressing for dinner and a party at teammate Richie’s house for everyone in our senior class. There were only sixty-five of us, after all.

Dad and Mom reminded me to be extra careful driving. I would be, knowing how many drunks would be on the road. I drove Barbara to an excellent seafood restaurant in Larchmont with windows that overlooked the harbor on Long Island Sound. We sat at a table facing the water, holding hands through most of the meal which was exquisite. Barbara had a platter of fried shrimp while I had grilled scallops with an order of fries that we split. Topping off the meal was a delightful Coca-Cola on ice in lieu of wine. We also shared a hefty slice of cheesecake for dessert, leaving at 8:25 for the half-hour trip to Richie’s house only two blocks from the high school.

I drove through two traffic stops on the fifteen mile trip even though I was driving five miles below the speed limit both times. My license and registration were checked both times and I was asked if I had anything to drink that evening. I shared a laugh with the officers both times when I replied, “Does Coke count?” I was relieved when I pulled to the curb near Richie’s house. I’d managed to elude the drunks so far. Hopefully, I’d have the same success later when I took Barbara home. She was staying over, sleeping again in Carole’s bed.

I’d been to Richie’s several times before, either for a party or just to watch a football game with our mutual friends. In some respects his house reminded me of my grandparents’ apartment. It was long and relatively narrow. There were living and dining rooms and a family room all in a row with the kitchen just off to the left about two-thirds of the way back. Most of my classmates were already there when we arrived and I was pleased to see that Richie’s girlfriend Marlene remembered Barbara, welcoming her with Richie and introducing her to our classmates while I dropped our coats behind the couch along with about forty others.

We danced for about an hour, mostly slow ones with my arms around her waist and hers around my neck and helped ourselves to Cokes and pretzels, mostly having a wonderful time, until Barbara excused herself to use the bathroom. It was in the rear of the house and on the way back she was grabbed and groped by someone who shouldn’t have been there. She didn’t scream, but she did protest loudly enough that I heard her and, when I saw who had groped her, my expression turned to steel. Luckily, Marlene had also heard Barbara and she warned Richie and my teammates. Two of them intercepted me while two more walked back to have a polite word with Kenny Maples. Meanwhile, Marlene had rescued Barbara and was leading her back to me. Kenny took one look toward the front of the house and, seeing my anger, took off at the run—out the back door and gone.

I hugged Barbara once she assured me that she was okay. “I was shocked more than anything else. I couldn’t believe that a friend of yours would do that.”

“He’s no friend of Freak’s or mine either,” Eli told her. “You must know how protective he is with his sisters. Well, last year sometime in the fall, I think, we walked into the cafeteria only to find Marie crying. It seems that asshole Kenny had stolen her ice cream money. We found out later that he’d been doin’ it with all the junior high kids since the opening of school. We wanted to take care of him right then, but the teachers have a table in the cafeteria and we couldn’t get near him without getting into trouble.

“Then at the end of the day Freak and I told a bit of a white lie to get out of class a few minutes early. We were waiting at the back door when he walked through. Freak grabbed him by the throat and walked him behind the auditorium. There are some high bushes there and we went behind one of the biggest. Then Freak told Kenny that he wanted his sister’s ice cream money back. Stupid Kenny just laughed and told us that he had already eaten it.

“I still remember exactly what Freak said. ‘No problem, asshole.’ Then he punched that asshole in the stomach so hard that he lifted him more than a foot in the air. He threw up all over his shirt, pants, and shoes by the time he fell into a heap. ‘Told you I’d get it back; and let me tell you this—you’ll think this was a love tap if I ever hear that you’ve stolen some kid’s lunch money again. I’ll break every bone in your body.’ Those were his exact words. Turned out there was no need; stupid Kenny quit school a week later. What a loser!”

Then Eli turned to me. “You need to leave him to us. Elmer, Tony, and I live in the Village and we have a lot of friends there. We know you’d like to kill that bastard, but if he’s hurt the cops will come looking for you. We’ll take care of him. That’s a promise. There are plenty of us who hate that jerk and mostly for very good reasons.” I looked at Tony and Elmer and they nodded. They were good friends and I knew their word was as good as gold. Barbara thanked them and especially Marlene and we went back to dancing.

Barbara was in my arms when the ball in Times Square fell. Our kiss lasted for more than five minutes. I hadn’t yet told Barbara that I loved her, but I was sure that she knew, just as everyone there knew, as well. I tried to shake hands with my buddies, but they laughed. “You’re a little late, Freak…like five minutes.” I was sure that my face was a little red, but Barbara didn’t care. She just grabbed me again and pulled me into another long deep kiss.

We joined my classmates for a late snack—one of those six-foot heroes—with some potato and macaroni salad. Barbara and I left just before two, driving carefully past the apartments where Barbara stripped me efficiently in only a minute. It wasn’t long before she joined me. I recall thinking at the time that I’d never tire of feeling her incredible skin against mine. We kissed for a few minutes as our hands explored until I moved down to the seat, pulling Barbara on top of me.

She spun around, presenting her sweet pussy to my lips as she took my entire cock deeply into her mouth and throat. Up and down she moved as her tongue wrapped its way around my shaft. For a total amateur she was doing an incredible job on me, just as I was trying my best with her. I kissed her several times, eliciting a series of soft moans that died in her cock-stuffed mouth. The way she was sucking and licking my cock told me that I needed to get cracking. I had just penetrated her when she began to rub my balls.

After fucking her that way for a few minutes she startled me by whispering, “Cum for me, Jack. Cum in my mouth. I want to feel and taste you when you explode. Please!” Normally, I’d try to slow down my reactions, but it was hard to deny Barbara. I decided to let nature take its course and cum when I was ready…when the orgasm hit.

Rather than nosh on Barbara’s clit I decided instead to tease her by running my tongue over her hard swollen bud as lightly as humanly possible. Her reaction was just the opposite of what I had anticipated. I could feel the waves of pleasure as they coursed through her body. She came quickly and, as she did, my face got a bath. About twenty seconds later it happened again. Her body shook wildly and I was again bathed in her aromatic juice. All told I continued for more than a minute and Barbara came seven times if I counted correctly. My face was covered in her goo. All this time she had been working my cock like a pro and her perseverance paid off. Barbara got her New Year’s wish as I flooded her mouth and throat with my jizz. I couldn’t speak for her, but I was exhausted. She turned around and lay on top of me, a huge smile on her face. That’s when she noticed my face.

“What happened to your face, Jack?”

“You did,” I replied with a little chuckle.

“Oh, no! Did I pee on you? I’m so sorry.”

“No…no; it’s not urine. Did you have seven orgasms?”

“I don’t know. I kind of lost track. I don’t know what you did to me, but it was incredible. I came quickly and then I kept on cumming and cumming. I didn’t think it was ever going to stop.”

“Well, every time you came I got flooded. I don’t know what it was, but I’m glad I was able to do it for you.”

She moved up a bit to look me straight in my eyes. “Me, too,” she whispered just before pressing those sweet plump lips into mine once again. I checked out the dashboard clock and pointed at it—3:26, time to head on home.

Everyone was asleep when we walked through the back door. We turned left so Barbara could take a quick shower. She had left her night gown and robe here in anticipation. I closed the bathroom door and began to turn the couch into my bed when I felt a hand on my arm. Barbara was standing there naked. Damn, but she was a beautiful woman. “Come and join me,” she whispered.

I laughed. “Funny! You have got to be kidding. There is no way that two of us will fit in there. It’s all I can do on my own. Thanks for the offer, though--maybe someday, but not tonight.” I gave her a quick kiss and she returned to the bathroom, a pout on her face. Ten minutes later she came out, kissed me quickly and walked to the living room. I followed so I could turn the stairway lights on for her and off once she was safely upstairs. I showered quickly, mostly to wash my groin and my face, knowing what my parents would think if they saw me covered with Barbara’s juice. It was almost four by the time I crawled under the covers.


>>>>>>

We slept in New Years Day and I would have stayed in bed after 10:00 had I not been invaded by an eight year-old monster named Carole. “C’mon, J.J., get up so we can play.” Did I mention that she was jumping on my chest at the time?

“What time did you go to bed last night?”

“Mom and Dad let me stay up until 10:00.”

“That’s great! I stayed up until four. Let me see…ten is bigger than four so you must have been up later than me.”

She responded with a scowl. “Even I know that’s not true. You need to get up. Barbara’s already up and dressed. C’mon!”

“Uggh! It’s a good thing that I love you.” I growled and Carole scampered away screaming down the hallway. Thank God I wasn’t a drinker. J didn’t know how I could handle a hangover considering how tired I was. I struggled out of bed to shave, run a comb through my generally unruly short hair, and brush my teeth, dressing in a Harvard sweatshirt, jeans, and slippers. Then I made my bed, turning it back into a couch before yawning my way to the kitchen.

Barbara was there getting a cup of coffee. I wrapped my arm around her waist and she moved up for a quick kiss. That was accompanied by a giggle from the breakfast nook. Knowing that Carole was watching, I moved in for a real kiss. Mom and Dad already knew of my intentions even if Barbara didn’t so I wasn’t worried that they’d say anything. Of course, the giggling was non-stop through the entire kiss. I broke it and jumped into the nook, grabbing Carole and swinging her around while I hugged and kissed her. Her giggling turned to loud laughter which stopped only when Dad complained of an after New Year’s headache. I felt real sympathy, knowing how I felt without one.

Barbara and I had only a light breakfast of pastries and doughnuts from the bakery. I broiled hot dogs for lunch then we retired to the living room for the traditional football games. Barbara sat on the couch where she had been on Christmas and I sat on the floor at her feet. She rubbed my neck and ran her fingers through my hair for most of the afternoon. Around three she moved to the kitchen to help Mom with the dinner. Carole and I helped by setting the table.

We ate dinner as one big and happy family before I walked outside with Barbara to drive her home. Tomorrow was Sunday so I’d see her early for Mass, knowing that we’d spend the entire day and much of the night together. Somehow, my need for seven days of basketball a week had ebbed, replaced by a greater need—a need to love and be loved and to be with that one special person. I let Barbara take the Olds home with her Sunday night so we could spend time together after Tuesday’s game.

January and February are the months when the basketball season kicks into high gear. Every game is a league game and every game counts toward that elusive league championship. Well, it was elusive if you played at a school other than ours over the past four years. There was pressure though—the pressure of being ranked number one…the pressure of having a target on your back every time you stepped onto the court. Despite the pressure we ran the table, winning every game by a wide margin.

I had expected to play against every junk defense in the book—box and one, triangle and two, and every variant that was ever devised. There were two big problems with this approach. The first was that I never cared how many points I scored; doubling me had to leave someone else open and my teammates were all very good players in their own right. Doubling me led to more open layups for them than I could count. The other problem was that the smaller guards couldn’t leap with me and the bigger layers were just too slow. You’re not supposed to be able to drive through a zone, but I drove for layup after layup most games. When I couldn’t score I gladly passed to a cutting teammate. Could I make All-American playing this way? Who cared? All that mattered was that we won.

There are four classes of schools in New York—A, B, C, and D—based on school enrollment. Tuckahoe was in Class D. Our success over the past four years meant that we could go anywhere we wanted to in the tourney to play against any class of opponent. Some of us wanted to go into Class A. Most of our opponents had been in Class B or higher, but I argued for us to stay in Class D. “Let the bigger schools beat each other up. Guys will get hurt. Guys will get tired. We’ll meet the best in the inter-class finals just as we have in the past.”

That was what we did and, sure enough, New Rochelle faltered in the A semis and so did Mount Vernon, another highly ranked school from our area. One of the lesser schools won the A competition and the same thing happened in the Class B finals. We blew the Class C champs out of the gym and the following night we whipped the A Champs. They were exhausted from their game against the B winners. Our starters had only played about half of our game the previous night. I won the center jump, one of the few that were actually contested and scored on our much practiced opening play, rubbing my man off on Eli’s strong broad body for a crashing dunk. We pressed full court and ran at every opportunity. For all purposes, the game was over at the half when we had built a twenty point lead. Instead of relaxing we shifted into overdrive and, once again, the basket looked to be as big as the ocean. I couldn’t and didn’t miss and neither did my teammates. We had our fifth consecutive state championship. Three of us made the all-tournament team—three out of ten. Our win streak was at 129 when the season ended.

Best of all—Barbara was there with me every step of the way, even staying overnight in a room with my sisters during the two finals weekends. She was one of many who stormed the court first when we won the Class D State Championship and, finally, when we won the whole shebang. She was the only one of that horde, however, to greet me with a searing kiss.


>>>>>>

It was the last week in March and I had just driven to our favorite parking place after an early night of bowling. Soon the outdoor movies would open and we could look forward to an entire night of making out. So far Barbara and I had done everything sexually other than fucking. I loved her enough that I wasn’t going to push it. We were sitting together holding each other knowing that we had plenty of time for sexual activities later. Barbara broke our kiss and looked up at me, her pleading voice just above a whisper. “Jack, what’s going to happen to us once we graduate?”

“I think we’re going to stay together. We will if I have anything to say about it.”

“But how? You’re going to Harvard and I’m staying here to attend St. Elizabeth Seton. We won’t see each other for months.”

“No…you need to come to Massachusetts with me.”

“How can I do that? Where would I live?”

I could see that Barbara was almost in tears and I would never want that. I leaned down to kiss her then opened my door to get out. “Do me a favor and scoot over here a bit. Please?” I gave her a quick peck and got out, walking around the back of the car and getting back in on the passenger side. My right knee was on the car floor and my left foot was on the asphalt as I reached into the glove box to get a plain brown paper lunch bag. Mom had hundreds of them for Carole and even Marie on occasion.

Taking her hands in mine I began to speak. “Barbara, you know that I dated quite a few girls before you, but I’ve never once told a girl that I loved her, not until this very second. Barbara, I think I fell in love with you even before I caught you in front of St. Catharine’s. I am so totally in love with you that it’s scary. I told you about the flash where I saw you fall, but I never told you about the other flash that day nor about the hundreds I’ve had since then; flashes about our love and life with each other.”

I could see her start to understand and she smiled broadly as I continued. “Barbara, I hate being away from you for even a single night now so I can’t imagine what being away from you for months would be like. Actually, I can; it would be the closest thing to hell for me. What I’m doing here in case you haven’t figured it out yet is asking you to marry me. I promise that I will love and cherish and protect you forever, maybe even longer.”

I reached into the bag to retrieve the small blue velvet box from Harry Winston. Barbara hadn’t said a word, but she did push her finger out to me. There were tears in her eyes as I slipped the ring onto her finger. Once it was on she pulled me to her for the hottest kiss of my life. Then she whispered in my ear. “Jack. I have loved you for so long—as long as I’ve known you. I want more than anything to make love with you. I’ve wanted that for quite a while, too. I want to feel you inside me. I only wish I could feel you spurt into my womb, but that will have to wait…for a while, anyway. Can we get into the back seat?”

After a tight hug and a tender kiss I replied, “I think you deserve a real bed for our first time. You want to drive?”

“No, I want to cuddle up next to you and look at my ring. Was it expensive? I’ll bet it was!” She leaned forward again to kiss me then shooed me out the door. I drove us to Nepperhan Avenue, one of the main drags in Yonkers where I had seen some old fashioned motels—the kind that are a bunch of individual small cabins—on our way to an away game. We were there in less than thirty minutes. I handed Barbara a pocketful of change, telling her, “Why don’t you phone Mrs. Gleason and tell her you’ll be late. Be sure you tell her why…the engagement why not the making love why.” Barbara laughed then hugged and kissed me before slipping into the phone booth. (Remember! This was 1961 when such things were commonplace.) I walked into the motel office to register.

“I’d like to rent a room, please.”

He looked me over closely before responding. “Are you actually old enough?”

“My attorney tells me that one must be eighteen to legally sign a contract so the answer is ‘yes.’ I have my passport in my pocket if you like.” He responded by holding his hand out and I passed it to him. He spent more than a minute checking the photo and my date of birth before returning it to me.

“I suppose the woman outside is your wife.”

“Not yet, but we just became engaged tonight. She wants to make love and I thought her first time should be in a real bed as opposed to my back seat.”

“First time? Yes, I guess I can see why you’d like that to be special. Fifteen bucks and I don’t expect to have any trouble.”

“There won’t be any. I have too much to lose—a full ride to Harvard being at the top of the list.”

“Wow,” he said as he made change and passed me the key to number seven. “You’re a big kid. Ever play any kind of ball?”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah…a five year starter in basketball and baseball and a four-year starter in football.”

“I recognize you now. Tuckahoe, right?” I nodded. He laughed as he said, “Nobody is happier than I am that you’re graduating. My son played JV basketball and will be a junior at Gorton next year.”

My smile vanished. “Too bad about Jimmy Albin.” He nodded. Jimmy’s situation was sad. He’d been found dead just after the end of the season, a hypodermic needle jutting from his arm. All of my teammates and I attended his wake and funeral. Barbara was there, too, never leaving my side. I put my smile back on my face as I walked out, but there was no fooling my love.

“What’s wrong, Jack?”

“Nothing really; his son played JV at Gorton. He knew Jimmy.”

She reached up to stroke my cheek. “You tried to warn him, Jack. He didn’t listen. A lot of kids think they know everything. Oh…Mrs. Gleason is thrilled. She didn’t seem to be too surprised.” She took my hand and we walked together to our room. She showed me a handful of condoms from the glove box.

“You trying to kill me before we’re even married?”

‘No, but I like to be prepared.” I smiled—prepared is good. I opened the door and turned on the light. I expected the room to be worn and it was, but it appeared to be clean although it was cold. I found the heater and adjusted the control. I was pleased when the machine responded immediately.

Now that we were here we were both nervous and hesitant. Eventually, we started to giggle and that developed into full laughter. We came together for a long kiss. “Don’t you think you should undress me now,” Barbara whispered. I kissed her again, moving my hands to her tiny buttons while she began to work on mine. My hands are big and powerful, but they weren’t made for this kind of work. She had me practically naked by the time I had half of her buttons opened.

“Here, silly, let me help you.” She pulled the blouse up and over her head, turning around so I could handle her bra. I leaned forward to nuzzle her neck and cup her beautiful breasts in my hands. Barbara reached behind her to lower my slacks and my briefs. Luckily I had worn my loafers so I was able to step out of my shoes. I placed all of the clothes on a chair while Barbara lowered the blanket and sheet. “I think I need to practice some sexy poses for you—something that will help you get turned on.”

“You haven’t needed anything so far. Just one glance at your beautiful face and your incredible body and look at me.” I looked down at my cock which stood at attention, as hard as granite and already leaking pre-cum. I kneeled on the bed and lay next to my goddess to caress and experience her fantastic body from head to toe—her soft smooth skin, her glimmering hair, her perfect conical breasts topped with sensitive and responsive nipples and areolas. I kissed each of those nipples, licking and suckling like an infant. My hand rubbed her labia until she was panting and squirming with desire.

“It’s time, darling. Make love to me. I want it. Damn, I need it.” She pulled a condom from the night table and with practiced precision unrolled it down my shaft as I moved between her legs.

“I know it’s going to hurt at first. Am I going to bleed?” I hesitated a second then jumped up to the bathroom, returning with a thin bath towel. Barbara raised her hips to accommodate me then spread her legs wide. I rubbed myself up and down her slit several times before gently pushing home. I was going slowly for two reasons. First, Barbara was a virgin, unused to having anything anywhere near as thick as my cock in her tunnel. Second, I didn’t want her to hurt any more than necessary. Apparently, she had other ideas as she thrust her hips upward several inches, ripping her hymen in a flash.

She cried out, several tears streaming from her face, but when I looked at her all I could see was her love. I kissed those tears away as Barbara began to smile. She relaxed as I pushed further into her. We began a rhythm, moving together—slowly at first-- Barbara’s legs wrapped tightly around my waist. “Oh, Jack!” She was moaning continuously now. I raised my body up onto my elbows so I could worry her sensitive nipples with my fingers. I could tell from her movements that she was rubbing her clit—her big hard clit loaded with sensitive nerve endings—into my pubic bone.

She was working as hard as I was, driving her hips into me with every thrust. Her face was a mask of love and lust. Her love for me was evident, but just as obvious was her lust—her desire and need to fuck and be fucked—to cum and cum hard.

Our pace increased until we were fucking like animals then—suddenly and without warning—she froze, grabbed me by the hair and pulled me down for a kiss that showed her passion and her love and her lust. Then, just as suddenly, she lost it. Her body shook in three or four directions at once as her powerful orgasm claimed reign over her body. Even my weight wasn’t enough to keep her in the center of the bed. She was just coming down when my orgasm hit. She knew by now what to expect. Six straight times my hips drove forward, a fountain of semen erupting from my hard hot tool. I tried to move off her, but she would hear nothing of it. “Please, Jack…stay where you are. I love having you in me.”

“There’s nothing I’d like more, but, if I do, there’s a good chance that the condom will leak. That would never do.” I kissed her again, a relatively chaste one, and slid off to her side, the condom, loaded with my seed, dangling from my shrinking cock. I trotted to the bathroom to flush it away and wash my organ thoroughly. I knew that Barbara wanted to play and the last thing we needed was for some stray sperm to find its way into the wrong place.

Barbara was grinning like the Cheshire cat when I returned. I lay next to her, kissing her cheek and hair and rubbing her back and butt. “Why the silly grin,” I asked.

“I was just remembering something you said. Remember when you told me that making love was the most fun thing you ever did? I agree completely. It really was the best thing I’ve ever done. Can we do it again?”

“We can, but we’ll need to rest and wait a bit. Men aren’t built like women.” She began to laugh and I joined her. “That’s not what I meant. Women can make love time after time as long as their vaginas are lubricated, but a man has to recover. I think it’s called refractory period. I should be okay to go again in about thirty or forty minutes. Then if you want to do it again it’ll take me a bit longer.”

She “pouted” until she smiled, calling me a spoil sport. I just shrugged my shoulders as I pulled her to me again. We talked about our plans. I wanted us to marry as soon as possible. I also wanted Barbara to accompany me to Cambridge the week after Easter so we could look to rent an apartment or house. I thought that she could apply to local universities for admission in January. She had good grades and there were plenty of universities in the Boston area so I was sure she would be successful. I’d rent two motel rooms for appearance sake, but after tonight there would be no reason to use both. If we could marry at the end of the school year we could move to Massachusetts the following week.

Barbara had been playing with my cock, something she had done often—almost every night we spent down past the apartments and, sure enough, thirty-five minutes later she rolled another condom down my shaft. “Why don’t you take the top this time? I think you’ll like it, maybe even better. You’ll have complete freedom of movement and I’ll be able to play with these babies.” I was already massaging her gorgeous breasts.

“It could be better?” Her tone was incredulous, but she climbed over me to straddle my hips. I took my cock and helped her to line up her pussy with my organ. She had her eyes closed, her face showing total contentment as I stretched her vaginal walls. She began a rocking motion, rubbing her clit into my muscular abdomen. She leaned down for a quick, but hot kiss as I rubbed her breasts and rolled her hard wrinkled nipples with my hands.
Barbara’s clit was big—much bigger than average. When swollen as it was now it was easy to rub it into me. Roughly half protruded from its hood. Barbara obviously enjoyed the freedom this position gave her. I knew that I loved seeing her physically expressing her love for me in such an energetic and enthusiastic way.

We had experienced intense orgasms less than an hour ago so both of us were much slower to cum. I thought it was a blessing to be inside Barbara’s heavenly cunt for such an extended time. Finally, after more than ten minutes a silent scream passed Barbara’s lips as her back arched about thirty degrees, driving her sensitive clit even more firmly into my body. I moved my hands from her breasts to her hips. Only my strength kept her from thrashing around, and possibly off, the bed. Once again, she was coming down—after almost a minute of what the French call “the little death”—as my hips drove her up and my cock exploded into her steaming hot vault.

Barbara was spent so I pulled her down to my body, taking care to let my shrinking organ escape her cunt. I knew there’d be leakage in this position so I wanted it on the sheets instead of in her. I spent the next fifteen minutes covering her face with tiny kisses while my hands rubbed her back and her glorious butt. Checking my watch I saw that the time was 1:17. I tried to rouse her. “C’mon, we need a shower and then I have to get you home.”

The shower was just a tub surrounded by a plastic curtain so we got in together once I had figured out how to work it and the water was warm enough. I washed Barbara with the motel’s tiny bar of soap while she used the other on me. For some reason we decided that was hilarious and we laughed through the entire episode.

I dried Barbara while she did the best she could with her hair then we dressed and I took the key back to the office. I was surprised to find the owner still on the job. On the brief walk Barbara had asked if we could come back tomorrow. That meant that I had two things to discuss. “I’d like to book the room for another night and I think I owe you for a bath towel. I’m sorry, but she bled on it.”

“You sure are an honest young man. Don’t worry about the towel. I’m just glad you had the sense to use one. It’ll be another fifteen for the room. I passed him another twenty and he amended the registration card. I left the office just a few minutes later. The clock on the wall said 1:54.

Barbara snuggled as closely to me as humanly possible for the entire drive home. We were ten minutes into the drive when Barbara looked up at me. “I can’t believe that something so beautiful could be a sin.”

“Welcome to the club. Truthfully, I find that a lot of the things that the Church considers to be sinful are ridiculous. Why do the priests and nuns always make everything so negative? If you don’t attend Mass every Sunday you’ll burn in hell. If you eat meat on Friday you’ll burn in hell. If that’s not bad enough, you don’t even have to commit a sin to burn in hell. All you have to do is think about it.”

“Yeah,” she responded cheerfully, “you’ll burn in hell for impure thoughts, or whatever.”

“On the positive side you have to know that what you’re doing is a sin for it to count. I don’t consider what we did tonight to be wrong, let alone a sin. Here’s something else—I find it hard to believe that someone who leads a good life, obeying the Commandments, won’t get into Heaven unless he’s Catholic. That just doesn’t make sense. I think that a lot of the things we are told exist only so the priests can control the people. Why else use all those scare tactics? Instead why not tell people how great they’ll feel if they attend Mass? I just don’t understand it.”

“Me neither, Jack; I do know this—what we did tonight was NOT WRONG. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced and tomorrow I want to do it again and again.” She reached up to kiss my cheek. I agreed with her completely. Making love with Barbara was the single most amazing thing I could imagine.

I dropped her off a few minutes after 2:30 Saturday morning and, even then, neither of us wanted me to leave. Finally, I whispered, “The sooner I leave the sooner I’ll be able to return. I’ll call you first…right after I tell my family how happy I am.” I leaned down for one more kiss before pushing her through the door. I was bone weary when I fell into bed around 3:00. Barbara had worn me out, something that hadn’t happened in 130 consecutive basketball games. What a woman!

NEXT: Trouble in paradise.

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