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What If: Vol 3-6

Premature

Susan knew the facts of life.

Well,

Susan sort of knew the basic facts of life,

but she knew nothing of penile ejaculation,

nor that it sometimes;

correction,

often came

—no pun intended—

when not intended,

 or, if you will,

 prematurely

—especially with inexperienced,

extremely hard-up young men—

and did not equate the sticky stuff

on the underside of her forearm,

or the darkening of his jeans,

with the male fluid component

necessary for the formation of human life,

 so…

“What happened?”

she asked in near panic

“That’s not blood,

is it?”

“No, Sue,” I said,

“that’s not blood,”

almost wishing it were..

“Excuse me.”

Annoyed at myself

and momentarily Susan,

I attempted to stand,

but as she was still lying across my

lap couldn’t.

“Sue, will you please let me up!”

Bewildered by his somewhat unfriendly attitude,

and also the,

whatever it was that was staining his jeans,

asking again,

“What’s wrong?”

sitting up, she moved aside.

Hurrying to the bathroom,

really,

having no idea what to say,

“I’ll tell you when I get out.”

Still sensing the heat of her orgasm,

shaken by how passionate she was…

still was,

Also,

she thought of what she had been doing with her elbow,

and what he had been doing with his elbow…

Also,

He was touching my breast!

No boy had ever been permitted to do

anywhere near any of the things that

he had been permitted to do.

Also

—most of all also—

Not only was I letting him do it—

forgetting that it was she that had

invented and instigated the

“elbow job”

—but I was doing it back!

And what happened?

Did he get sick?

Did I

—once again thinking the thought—

break something by pushing too hard?

Is he,

God forbid,

hemorrhaging in there?

Going to the bathroom door,

knocking softly,

“is everything okay?”

Praying  my jeans would dry,

having taken them off,

I was holding them,

wet side up,

towards the air vent near the ceiling.

Still embarrassed,

“Yes!”

Realizing I’d spoken curtly,

“Sue, honey,”

I said,

changing the tone of my voice,

“everything’s okay. I’ll explain,”

—What the hell am I going to say—

“when I come out. ”

What If: Vol 3-7

Facts of Life

Knowing that…

thinking

Unless I hide in here for an hour

it ain’t going to work.

Further thinking,

May as well get it over with.

Pulling my jeans on,

coming from the bathroom,

seeing Susan sitting on the end of the sofa,

taking my jacket from the hall closet,

covering my semen stained jeans

I sat away from her.

Confused and hurt because he didn’t sit alongside,

“you’re not leaving now,”

she asked.

“are you?”

“Look, honey,”

I said,

“I, uh,

sort of had an accident.”

Looking at him blankly,

 “Accident?”

She questioned.

.

“Yeah. We were,

uh, very hot there,

you and me.”

“Yes,” nodding her head,

“we sure were.”

“Sue, honey,

when a guy gets too hot,

sometimes something happens…

You’ve heard the word…”

—the word ejaculation not,

as of yet,

in his mental dictionary—

“come?”

“ ‘Come’?

Yes, sure.”

She said.

“Of course!”

Of course she has!

But in this context?

he could not believe that a girl

as innocent

as he believed Susan to be

could possibly

know what he was referring to.

“I mean like when a man and woman are,

uh, together…

You know, like…

uh, sexually,

and he’s got his,

uh,” pointing to his lap,

“thing in her, and he,

uh, comes?”

“Yes,” nodding her head,

“sure I know.”

“You know what I’m talking about?”

Looking at her closely.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes!” She said with annoyance in her voice.

“When men and women make love:

have sex.”

Thinking,

Maybe she does know.

“Yes.” I said.

“I’m sorry,

but I can only hold it off so long then…

Sue, you made me so hot

I couldn’t hold it back!”

“And what I saw,”

touching her elbow,

“that was…?”

“Yeah,

that’s what it was.”

Amazed that he was able to conjure the stuff up,

mentally snapping her fingers,

Just like that!

Blushing, “Know what?

she said,

“I’m kind of glad it happened.”

“You’re glad!

Why?

I find it damned embarrassing.”

“Because I love you.

And because I’m glad that you love me enough to do it,

uh, the way you did,

and not, you know…

So we didn’t do anything we would be sorry for.”

Oh, yeah.

I thought

Like I planned it.

What If: Vol 3-8

Innocent and Accidental

“Maybe we should promise.”

Susan suggested,

“to never let it go that far again.”

On the other hand,

thinking where she’d been touching him

and where he’d been touching her,

thinking of it

reactivated the itch in her vagina

and also, now,

also empowered with the power to…

If I can get him to ‘come’,

snapping her mental fingers again,

just like that,

and so long as he doesn’t touch me there…

at least with his hand,

and so long as I don’t touch him there…

at least with my hand…

Although, really…?

“No, Susan,”

well knowing this a promise he’d never be able to keep,

“we don’t have  to say ‘never’!

And besides,

believe me,

I do not want to go any further than just now.

And I would never go an inch further than you’d want me,

even if I thought that you wanted me to,

because I know you’d be mad at me later,

and I don’t want you mad at me, ever!

I love you too much for that, Sue,

and…”

Though they had never really discussed it,

both knew that marriage,

a distant,

far-in-the-future marriage,

was a very viable consideration,

and…

“I’m willing to wait for… it,

uh, that.”

That night Mitchell,

and his semen-stained Levi’s,

were long gone by the time

Susan’s parents returned home.

January 12, 1952

Having a full week to think about it,

the physical flavor of their,

by then almost,

nearly almost,

chaste relationship changed next Saturday when,

because her parents implicitly trusted the two,

the two were left,

once again,

alone to baby-sit,

when,

once again…

He, coincidentally,

took the same position on the sofa,

when,

once again…

she…

Discovering she had a heretofore hidden randy streak,

Susan took the same position on the sofa,

and Mitchell’s lap, and…

Yes, when he said it last week

he did mean it.

But last week he’d been embarrassed,

‘and’ his passion had been spent.

But on this night,

operating under a very revitalized head of steam,

though he’d told himself

I will not even try to go further than before,

then just touching,

or kissing… or,

or, most of all,

seeing what Susan’ll let me see.

Meaning, of course,

he dearly wanted to see her breasts, so…

Through trial and error:

he trying,

as she moved his hands from various parts of her body,

and moving his hand,

holding her hand,

from that one part of his body,

he’d been told…

“You’re in error,

if you think I’m going to let you touch me…

there!” Or,

“If you think I’m going to touch you…

there!”

But, true to her code of ethics,

just as she’d never touch him there…

with her hand,

or allow him to touch her there…

with his hand—

as much as Susan truly wanted him to,

and truly wanted to do herself—

she did allow the

“innocent and accidental”

laying on of elbows.

What If: Vol 3-9

Leeway

Since our first kiss,

beyond our present brand of kissing

which still excited me almost

beyond comprehension,

I did,

I did hold myself in close check.

At this time, however,

wanting to be prepared if there should be,

—and I certainly hoped there would be a repeat of,

minimally,

 what happened on the previous Saturday—

I thought of ways to do it and,

being rather inventive,

using good old Yankee ingenuity,

using tiny safety pins,

I pinned a piece of absorbent fabric

to the inner side of my left pocket

—because my penis,

for some reason,

always seemed to go to the left—

and when things became too hot to contain

—even if Susan said she didn’t mind seeing—

I was able to avoid the embarrassment of her

seeing the results of my eruption

simply by adjusting my

blotter-like pocket.

This change in our physical love caused

me to love Susan,

if possible,

all the more

because now there was a sexual intimacy

I knew no one but I had had had with her.

Besides, still true to his word to God,

it gave him a sexual release by other than his,

or truly,

anyone else’s hand.

January 19, 1952

Through May 24, 1952

 On the next Saturday,

 this night on the front seat of the Buick.

Growing tired of moving his hand

and honesty no longer minding if he

did touch her there,

actually wanting him to touch her there.

“Okay,” Susan declared,

“you can hold me here,”

 pressing his hand to her left breast.

 “But only over my clothes!

Not under!”

Adding sternly,

“Do you understand me?”

“Over your coat, too?”

I asked.

“No,” she smiled,

“not over my coat.”

Oh, God!

“Yes, Sue! I understand.”

Putting his mouth to her mouth,

putting his hand onto her stomach…

But now that he’d been given permission,

not knowing how to proceed,

feeling obvious and awkward,

hesitating, closing his eyes tighter,

becoming lost in their lengthening kiss…

Holding Susan’s breast,

feeling the weight

and warmth

and softness through her rayon bra

through her cashmere sweater,

Thank you, God!

To be continued

©February 21, 2012 / Mark M. Lichterman