As I pulled back out onto the road, I patted the seat next to me a couple of times, and Marilyn got the message. She unbuckled her seat belt and slid over towards me. There was something to be said about that big old Detroit iron - bench seats and no idiot lights or warning beepers. "You better not hit anything!", she commented.
I draped my right arm around her shoulders and drove with my left hand. "I can handle it. I was the soberest one at that table, although that's not a glowing tribute." I draped my arm a touch farther, and lowered my hand down to the front of her blouse, and grazed my fingertips across her nipples.
Marilyn gasped and looked up at me. I felt her movement and turned my head to grin at her. "Watch the road!", she said.
I maneuvered my hand a touch lower and firmly cupped her breast and tweaked her nipple. "Well, aren't you the Little Miss Bossypants?"
"Behave."
"I didn't think I was misbehaving." I tried to slip a finger inside her blouse.
"What if we have an accident?"
"Then the coroner is going to have a whole lot of fun explaining this to both our parents.", I replied, laughing. Marilyn gave me a sheepish look at that. I pulled my arm from around her, but set my hand on her bare thigh. Now that we were alone, she spread her legs apart, and I slipped my fingers between her soft and warm thighs. I wormed my hand upwards and began running my fingertips across her greasy little slit.
"You are driving me crazy!", she panted out. By now she was laying back in the front seat, sprawled out with her legs spread wide and her skirt had worked its way up her thighs so that her pussy was in view.
"Unbutton your top.", I told her.
"Just watch the road.", she said, but she also undid the buttons on her blouse. This was also like our first trip through. Whenever Marilyn and I went out on date night, underwear was notably absent, and the drive home was always hot and steamy, even well into our sixties.
I drove a few more miles, until we were close to the Battlefield, at which point I turned off the road and went up into the hills south of Utica. I only drove until I found a side driveway that went into an abandoned farm. I pulled in far enough we couldn't be seen from the road, and put the car in Park. "And just what do you think we're going to do here?", teased Marilyn, sitting upright and sliding closer to me.
I undid my seat belt and took her right hand and placed it in my lap. "I think you know exactly what we're doing here!"
We didn't do a whole lot of talking after that. Marilyn definitely had an idea of my plans, since she was working on my belt and zipper within a few seconds. She got a surprise when she found me going commando under my pants. A light rain had started falling by then, cooling the car, and we really fogged up the windows! Marilyn got a mouthful of jism while blowing me while I finger fucked her, and then I got stiff again and crawled over to her side of the seat and we tore off a vigorous piece on that side of the car.
Afterwards, as we struggled back into our clothing, she said, "We could have done this in the library and been a whole lot more comfortable, you know."
"You have been driving me crazy in that skirt and those heels all night! I couldn't wait!"
"I ought to make you wear these heels.", she complained.
I'll make a deal with you. You only need to wear heels when you are wearing a skirt or dress.", I replied.
"Why do I think you're up to something?", she countered.
"I don't know. Maybe because I really want you to dress only in skirts and dresses?", I answered innocently.
"Uh huh. I thought so."
"I'll compromise. You just keep wearing this little skirt with nothing underneath and the highest heels, and you can wear hot pants and high heels the rest of the time."
"Dream on!"
I popped my door open and hopped out into the drizzle, and tucked my shirt in and straightened up, so I didn't look like I had just gotten dressed in a car after screwing my brains out in a car. Marilyn made sure her blouse was all set, and she tucked her panties and bra in her purse. I started the car up and we went back to her house. Back at the house, I insisted we find out if the library was more comfortable, and Marilyn went along with my experiment.
Experimental sciences are the best sciences!
Chapter 37: Sophomore Year
Sophomore year is an interesting year for most students, in that this is their first really independent year, at least academically speaking. Not in lifestyle, of course, since that occurs freshman year. Freshman year is a huge change for the average college student. For the vast majority that are now living away from home for the first time, this is a massive culture shock. They are now being treated as adults, and need to learn discipline quickly. Mommy and Daddy are no longer going to be there to hold their hands, and they will have to adjust to a totally foreign environment and meet new people and assume new responsibilities. More than a few students totally bomb out at this; Marilyn and Buddy were just two examples. Buddy was obviously more extreme, but Marilyn didn't have the discipline needed to study away from home. She needed a structured environment.
A lot of students don't survive freshman year. Those that do find that sophomore year is more interesting. For most college students, not just at RPI but at almost any college, freshmen are interchangeable parts. All engineers need to take a couple of semesters of basic engineering before they can specialize. All chemists need to take basic chemistry so they can have the proper language. All liberal arts majors need to take some basic English courses, so they can learn to write. RPI was more extreme than most, but not by much.
Almost all colleges understand this, and to some degree or other try to help their students cope and adapt. They have tutors and help offices and at RPI the structured nature of freshman courses (everybody does the same classes) helps. That doesn't affect the fact that more than a few students are simply too immature to be on their own, and will simply spend their time fucking off, like Buddy.
Sophomore year is when you start to specialize. At this point the classes become a lot smaller and more intimate. Gone are the days when 500 students crammed into Chemistry 1 classes. Now you get lectures for maybe 30 Organic Chemistry students. Different disciplines will have different requirements, so electrical engineers won't need to take hydraulic engineering courses, and so forth. Make friends with these guys, because they're going to be with you for the next three years!
The classes also become tougher, and it's very easy for the professors to spot the students sleeping through class, since it won't be in a giant lecture hall. There will be another cut on students who somehow managed to fake their way through freshman classes and now have to take it up a notch. Likewise, at this point a lot of students start moving off campus, and have to face those challenges as well. While some colleges insist that everybody live on campus, most colleges simply don't have the dorm space to do that. At RPI fully 1 in 4 students live in frats, and just about as many live in apartments in town. The school simply does not have enough rooms for all students.
As I settled back into full time life at Kegs, I could see some of these dynamics working already. Joe and I had meshed nicely. He was a relatively quiet guy, who didn't drink much and never even looked at drugs. He didn't chase women around very much, and in fact kept that part of his life rather quiet. That being said, I never once had a warning bell from my gay-dar, and I suspected he had some action going back home. Home was in suburban New Jersey, a place I had once lived in for a few years and never much cottoned to. Joe had a good sense of humor, in a quirky and understated sort of fashion, and was actually a decent magician. He did a lot of card tricks, with the most awful stage manner, but you could never see how he made those cards appear or disappear! He was a hard core Catholic.