It was good stuff, as I recall. But I wasn't used to it, and very soon it had me flying higher than a kite. Then back to the ballroom for more whirling and twirling, each of them romancing me, working me over, and I got high on it, it was a dream come true, a dream I didn't even know I'd had: drab, little, brainy Bev Archer getting her first taste of what it felt like to be desired.
Oh, yes, Mama, those boys made no bones about their cravings. they lusted for me; they made that clear enough. they even whispered provocative little endearments as we danced.
Jimmy: "You're really special, Bev. I've had my eyes on you since September. I just couldn't get up the nerve to do anything about it till now. There's something of your mom in you, isn't there? Stu and I've been down to the Fairmount Club Lounge and heard her sing. One very sexy lady, your mom."
Stu: "We both knew as soon as we saw you. Jimmy nudged me. 'She's as sexy as her mom. Probably as talented, too.' Hey, it doesn't upset you to hear me use that word, does it, Bev? 'Cause it's true.
I mean you are sexy… if you don't mind my saying so."
Mind? Of course, I didn't mind. I loved it, adored it, was intoxicated by the thought. Sexy was what you were, Mama, and it was the one thing I was certain I was not. I had never felt sexy, wasn't sure I'd even know the feeling if I did. But then, as it turned out, I did know. Because while they were talking to me, I began to feel aroused.
Thinking back on it now, I don't think it was those particular boys that got me going so much as the general situation I found myself in: being high; being told I was sexy; being attended to as if I were sexy; being competed for and treated so openly as an object of desire.
I had no doubt they both hungered for me. they made it manifest, pressing themselves against me as we danced, making sure I was aware of their rigidity, showing me the hard bodily proof of their lust. But I'm sure now it wasn't their stiff cocks that excited me. Male organs have never done much for me one way or the other. It was the aura of their excitement, the evidence of their craving. I certainly didn't feel I wanted to be screwed by them, but most assuredly I enjoyed the fact that they pined to screw me.
There was a part of me, too, that knew sooner or later one or the other of them was going to make his move. But I wasn't thinking about that very much; I was too excited by the here and now of it all. Still, I wasn't naive. was your daughter; I knew about sex; I'd met your lovers. And the girls my age at Ashley-Bumett gossiped about little else but boys, what they liked to do and how a girl could handle them if she kept her wits about her. So on a mental level I pretty much knew what to expect. But having no practical experience and no psychological training, I badly underestimated my predicament.
It was around midnight (the dance was scheduled to end at 1:00 A.M.) that they first broached the notion of driving me home. "We've got a car," Jimmy said. "We can easily drop you off. Anyway, aren't you getting tired of this crappy dance? Let's leave now, stop off for a nightcap at this dive we know. The bartender's a good guy.
He'll serve us without making us show ID. What do you say?" And when I hesitated: "Not scared to go to a bar, are you, Bev-you who used to hang around with your mom at the Fairmount Club Lounge?"
Actually I was thrilled with the idea of going to a bar in the company of two handsome tuxedo-clad boys. So I sought out the girl whose father had driven me downtown, told her I'd arranged another fide, and enjoyed the obvious envy in her eyes when she warned me to watch out, I could get a bad reputation hanging around with the MacDonalds.
A bad reputation! At that moment I couldn't think of anything I wanted more!
We never did stop off at any dive, of course, if such a place did actually exist, which I doubt. Once we were in the car (Stu at the wheel, me and Jimmy in the back) the slim silver cigarette case emerged again. Jimmy and I shared a joint and then started in on a second.
Meanwhile, Stu drove us to a deserted overlook above the Cuyahoga River, parked, got out, came around to the back, and sat down on my other side.
There I was, Mama, boxed in between them. And then the fun began.
Stu deep kissed me. That was okay; I'd been looking forward to a real kiss like that. But then Jimmy kissed me that way, too, and that was kind of strange. I mean, there I was sandwiched between two brothers, both of whom were trying to make out with me at once.
"Hey, please! One at a time," I said, or some such nonsense. That only encouraged them. Next thing I knew they both were simultaneously trying to undress me or at least gain access to my top.
"Down, boys!" I said, in the haughty way an AshleyBurnett girl might address a pair of obstreperous guys. And when that didn't stop them: "Enough! Jimmy, Stu! Come on, let's all go home."
"Uh-uh, Bev," I remember Jimmy saying as he leered. "Get into a car with a couple of horny brothers, you gotta take the consequences. Right, Stu?"
There was a lot of giggling then, I remember, mild attempts on my part to push them off, equally lighthearted attempts on theirs to unclasp my bra. We were in a kind of three-way wrestling match, laughing, having fun, and I confess I enjoyed the struggle, doubtless because I figured it wouldn't continue very long. Stu and Jimmy were decent, well-brought-up young men. Sooner or later, when they realized I wasn't going to play, they'd give it up, we'd stop off for the promised nightcap, and then they'd take me home.
That, Mama, was conventional dating wisdom as it was promulgated amongst the student body in the corridors and locker rooms of the Ashley-Bumett School for Girls. But wise though it might have been, it began to dawn on me some minutes into the struggle that in this case it was not going to apply. Then I panicked. I was scared, Mama, real scared. I began to struggle, struggle hard, and then, as can happen in close quarters like the back of a car, somebody got hurt.
It was Stu. Struggling with them both, I managed to stick my elbow in his eye. He got mad. "Watch it, bitch." The he slapped me, not full force, of course, but hard enough to make me scream.
Jimmy cupped his hand hard over my mouth.
"Why'd you hit her, Stu?"
"Bitch poked me in the eye."
"We weren't s'posed to hit her."
"Who cares what we were s'posed to do. Let's do what we want.
Yeah?"
At that Stu ripped down the entire front of my dress. And then the real combat began. Even through the haze of pot I knew I was in trouble and tried seriously to fight my way out of the car. Jimmy took hold of my arms and held them tight behind my back. Then Stu pulled off my bra and grabbed hold of my breasts. When I screamed, Jimmy cupped my mouth again. This time I bit his hand.
"Fuck!" He was furious. He grabbed hold of my hair and yanked it back. "Bite me again, I'll clobber you, too. " I screamed at them to let me go, and when they didn't, I began to beg. But by then they were all fired up. I'm sure all my struggling had turned them on. They'd reached the point where they wouldn't let me loose until I gave them something in return.
"Think we danced with you all night 'cause you're so attractive?" Stu sneered. He answered his own query. "Only reason you trot a wallflower is to get her to Put out later on."
Then they really started to work me over, Mama. they grabbed at me and grasped at me and taunted me for my ugliness. they laughed when I started to cry. "Bet she's wet down there, too," one of them said.
The struggle went on for a good ten minutes. they laughed and hooted and talked about me in the third person as if I didn't have ears or couldn't understand. "Look at the way she twists. Like a snake.