Going on 1: Ina

August 18, 1950

Union Pier, Michigan

“Yeah she does! She’s got great tits! But Ina? Ina Dorfmann!”

Pulling the raft ashore, they were sitting near water’s edge with their backs resting against the warm, rubberized canvas.

“Come on, Norm,” Mitchell argued, “she ain’t all that bad.”

“Jesus, you really are hard-up. You know what this is, don’t you? It’s a, uh, what’ch’a’ma’call…” thinking, “a compulsion.”

“Okay, sure, call it whatever you want, but don’t it bother you?”

“That I ain’t been laid? Sure it does, you know it does. But when I do, it sure as hell ain’t gonna be with a broad like Ina Dorfmann.”

Two girls walking the shoreline approached from the north.

As the girls came closer, as though on cue, the boys stopped talking and, as boys do, appraised them.

One girl, the blonde, was short and dumpy and beyond all consideration. The other, a familiar, deeply-tanned, pretty brunette, was tall and skinny, and if not for her knobby knees, would have no shape at all.

Evaluating both girls negatively, Norman and Mitchell waited for the girls to pass before continuing their conversation regarding the fucking of one Ina Dorfmann.

As they passed, the dark girl looked at the boys over her shoulder, took a few more steps, then, stopping turning back, “Mitchie, Normie, hi!” she said to both boys, but standing directly before him, was obviously speaking to Mitchell only.

Taking a moment to remember the girl’s name, Mitchell recognized her as that kid from last summer, and even if she was pretty, skinny as she was, she most certainly was not his type.

Besides, if she was too young for him last summer she was too young for him this summer, especially now that he was a “Korean War vet.” Besides, at the moment he had more important things on his mind. So, “Yeah, hi,” he said, rudely bringing his attention back to Norman, who, remembering the girl, but not her name, “Hi,” nodded his head at her.

Looking as though she wanted to say something, but very well recognizing the signs of dismissal, frowning, “Drop dead, you big jerk!” she said, and with an angry toss of her stubby ponytail, turning away, the girl continued the walk with her friend.

“She’s that girl from last summer, Isn’t she?”

Watching their wide and narrow backsides, “Yeah,” Mitchell said.

“So, you gonna do it?”

Still watching the thinner of the backsides, sensing a sudden, soft pang of loneliness in the pit of his stomach, taking a moment for him to fathom Norman’s question, “Yeah,” he said, instantly forgetting the girl. “I’m babysitting at Doc Liebman’s tonight, and if I can find Ina, I’m going to ask if she’d like to keep me company.”

“The Liebmans won’t mind you having a girl there?”

Rationalizing, “You’ve been there with me.”

“Yeah, Mitch, but I’m a guy. Do you really think they won’t mind if you have a girl there when you babysit?”

“Nah,” stretching the truth a bit. “I’ve asked if they mind if I have a friend to keep me company, and they said so long as I listen for and pay attention to Jerry they don’t care.”

He never asked, though, if the friend could be a girl.

                                                                 ***

Their parents able to rent the same cottages they had the year before, having their accumulated weekly and training camp pay, the boys thought they’d have enough money to last through the summer, then, in the fall, when school started, when they entered their junior year, they would look for part-time jobs.

                                                                 ***

Standing above her, “Ina, hi!” his back was to the sun.

Turning from her stomach onto her back, shading her eyes from the sun, “Oh!” Having spoken to him only in passing, feeling flattered that a boy as handsome and standoffish as Mitchell Lipensky, the Mitchell Lipensky, would even stop by to say hello, “Hi, Mitchie!” Sitting up quickly, moving to the side of her blanket, making room for him, “Sit down, why don’t’j’ya.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Sitting, the first time this close, he looked at her.

Already sixteen, Ina was almost six months older than Mitchell. She had peroxide-bleached, streaky blonde hair. Her face was round with small, dark-brown eyes, a turned-up nose with red-tinged, scaly nostrils due to blowing and rubbing because of allergies. Her forehead, chin and chest were dotted with pin-head-size sun blisters and, though not fat, Ina was fleshy with thick thighs, a somewhat flabby stomach and…

Mitchell’s eyes went from her rather homely face to the creamy swellings at the top of her bathing suit, to… Oh, God! Ina’s soft-looking, delectable breasts, and even then, in the middle of the day, even there, on this crowded beach, he unwittingly obtained a full-fledged erection just thinking that, Maybe, tonight, he might, just might, be able to look at, touch, and suckle on those… Oh, God, he thought, she’s got great tits! Forcing his eyes from her chest to her face, “Ina,” not sure how to ask. “I’m, uh, babysitting tonight,” he said bluntly, “and was wondering if, uh, if you’re not doing anything, if you’d like to, uh, come on over and keep me company.”

Ina, too, looked… At Mitchell’s green eyes, darkly tanned, scrumptious face, and her eyes shifted downward, to—wearing a yellow, brief-type bathing suit, sitting cross-legged as he was—Ina saw the tubular impression of his engorged penis under the tight-fitting, glossy material and she, also, thought of what she knew she would look at, touch, and suckle on tonight, so, “Yeah, Mitchie,” looking at his face, “that sounds like fun. You wanna pick me up, or…” Knowing that most parents frown at their babysitters having company, especially opposite sex company, and most especially opposite sex company that looked like she knew she was going to look that night. “…or should I kind’a, you know, just kind’a come over later?”

Surprised, She’s going to! actually shocked that she’d agreed. “Yeah,” he said, “if you don’t mind just, uh, just kind’a come over.”

 (A "Becoming" Excerpt)