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A sincere thank you to all those who took the time to read my first story, “Summer 1970”. The favorable response was both unexpected and greatly appreciated. Special thanks to those who were kind enough to comment both publicly and privately.
Encouraged by the response, the story continues…
Part one of two
Fall 1970. Freshman year of college is underway and everything is going along as expected. My academic performance is as mediocre as ever, my love life unfortunately even worse. My best friend Kenny is in college out west, and from all reports is doing fantastic in both of those areas.
This comes as no surprise to me, as I was certain Kenny would continue scoring well both in and out of the classroom. Good for him. I was happy for him and not jealous in the least. Well, I was happy for him, that much is true, and I looked forward to seeing him again when he would be coming back home for Christmas break. Until then, I had to try to get my act together.
As a reintroduction, I’m David, an eighteen year old virgin, and with no likely victims on the horizon that would change that situation either. I had no car so my prospects were dim indeed. Occassionally I would tag along with some other friends and hit the bars desperately trolling for companionship, but without success.
I lacked confidence as it was, and if I had managed to persuade some unwitting female to be with me, what would I do then? Have them ride to my house in the back seat of a car full of drunks to my house? Sneak up the stairs of my house without waking my family? Not a likely scenario. My only prayer would be to find a girl with their own place and their own car.
Well, if they had that they sure as hell didn’t need me, because frankly I was not that great a catch. I had very average and completely boring looks, someone so nondescript that I easily bacame wallpaper. A little over six foot tall and around 200 pounds, brown hair that I was growing longer in an attempt to get a little character into my boring look. Since everyone in 1970 was growing their hair long, that certainly did nothing to make me stand out. I should have shaved my head, in retrospect.
Anyway, one weekend in the fall I had nothing much to do, which was not a rare, but I also wasn’t scheduled to work that weekend, which would certainly do little for my future finances. I suppose I could have stayed home and studied, but why would I do that and risk succeeding? I thought it would be a better idea to go down to New York City for the day on Saturday, figuring it would be much better to be bored down there than upstate.
I hopped on a bus that Saturday morning with little money, low expectations and no plans. I had gotten a New York paper at the bus terminal so I could get some ideas on what to do when I got down there, and settled in for the long ride.
I arrived at Port Authority just before noon and went out to the street. It was a brisk autumn day and it was just staring to drizzle ever so slightly. The drizzle soon turned to rain and even though I had no concrete plans, this would severely curtail my options.
I walked around in the rain for a time, long enough to realize that getting drenched and walking around in soggy clothes was not going to improve the enjoyment of the day. Passing several theatres, I decided that I should duck in for a flick until the rain let up.
I was the Times Square area, circa 1970, which bears no resemblance to the Times Square of today. During that era there were a lot of theatres, and virtually all of them XXX. So really, I didn’t have much of a choice. Yeah, I was forced into it! Seriously, I would have made the same decision even if there were other options, but this allowed me to take a higher moral ground, if indeed there is any higher moral ground to be found in a 42nd Street grindhouse.
Adult theatres were a rarity back home in upstate New York. There were a couple of them around, but you didn’t want to get caught frequenting them, as that sort of news traveled fast in small neighborhoods. I had gone to one of them right after turning eighteen as sort of a rite of passage, but only under cover of darkness, slithering around and waiting until the coast was clear before sneaking up to the door like a criminal.
Being in NYC was a different thing altogether. I was as invisible as could be down there, lost in the vast sea of humanity. I picked a theatre with the most interesting titles for the lowest admission price and slunk on in.
For a couple of bucks, this wasn’t a bad deal. You got three movies for one admission price. The theatre itself must have been really something back in its day. Today was clearly not its day however, as its Art Deco look had decayed and faded badly with the passing years.
The aroma of the theatre reminded me of a locker room and a particularly foul one at that. They had a concession stand which defied description. The only sight possibly scarier than the discolored popcorn nestled inside the bahis firmaları grungy machine was the droopy-eyed, slack-jawed cretin drooling behind the counter. Yikes!
Inside, you had a wide variety of seats to choose from, giving you the option of deciding precisely which part of your ass you wanted impaled by a loose spring. I picked the least painful seat and sat down, planning to watch maybe one movie if it was any good, and then go check on the weather.
Four hours later, I staggered back out onto the street. The rain must have stopped long ago, as the streets were barely damp. It wasn’t dark yet, but the day was pretty much shot.
Great! I had just wasted the day watching three porn flicks of varying quality. Some old geezer tried to sit on my lap, accidently I’m sure (it was very dark in there) and some other guy plopped next to me and started jerking off, not accidently I feared. It was probably a good thing that he did too, or else I might have never left there. As it was, it took a considerable effort to pry my sneakers off the floor when I did try to flee. I’d become almost sealed to the floor (soda I had hoped)while being mesmorized by the seedy delights on screen.
That was just what I needed in my state of mind, sitting through an afternoon of watching other people fuck. Hell, I could have done that at home, and had. While eating a slice of pizza, I tried to figure out what to do with the rest of the day. The buses left every hour until midnight, so my options were wide open. Problem was, I didn’t have many ideas.
On the wall of a construction site there were a bunch of posters advertising things going on in the city. Not many of them seemed like anything I wanted to do, or if they sounded good had already come and gone. One poster did catch my eye. There was a concert at Hunter College that night, featuring the James Gang.
As a historical note for those too young to know, the James Gang were a fairly successful rock group back in the late 60’s and early 70’s. They released several albums and had a few hit singles, the most popular being “Walk Away”. The leader of the group, Joe Walsh, later had a solo career before finally ending up as a guitarist in the cash machine known as The Eagles.
The concert was at 7:30, so I still had a couple of hours to get there, wherever Hunter College was. Depending on how long a walk it was, I might be cutting it close as far as catching the last bus. Still and all, it was better than doing nothing. If left to my own instincts, I would probably end up in another porn theatre.
I started walking uptown, because judging by the address on the poster, this was going to be a hike. On the way I stopped at a liquor store and got a bottom of what had become a favorite of mine. At that time I was a wine afficiando of sorts and was an unabashed fan of a delicate wine with a rich oak flavor, fruity bouquet and pleasing aftertaste. Ripple was the wine that many discriminating teenagers chose at that time. I drank the swill out of the bag as discreetly as possible while I walked uptown.
I managed to find the place with very little time to spare and tried to find out where they were selling tickets. Well, as it turned out they weren’t selling any tickets. SOLD OUT.
I stood around for awhile, unsure what to do now. I just walked a long way for nothing and was now faced with the prospect of a long walk back. My knowledge of the NYC transportation system only extended as far as Shea and Tankee stadiums. My previous attempts at exploration usually got me into trouble, often ending me up farther away than when I started.
Just then a girl walking through the crowd of people milling around the entrance caught my attention. She was holding a ticket and asking if anyone wanted to buy it. I moved in front of her as she passed by and asked her how much she wanted for it. She said she only wanted what it had cost her, which was four dollars. I snapped it up quickly just before another guy who was heading her way could move in. I thanked her and went on in, knowing that at least the night would not be a complete loss.
I went in and found my seat, which was about twelve rows from the stage on the far left, and suffered through the set by the opening act. Toward the end of their set, the girl who had sold me the ticket slid down the aisle and sat next to me. Shortly after she got to her seat the opening band wrapped up. The girl looked at me and shrugged her shoulders.
“I’ve got good timing, don’t I?” she laughed.
I nodded affirmatively but added that she hadn’t missed much. For whatever reason, instead of withdrawing back into my cocoon as was my usual custom, I spoke up. “My name’s David, Dave” I offered eventually.
“From what I heard I think you’re right. They did sound rank. My name’s Doreen” she answered while sticking out her hand.
I reached out my hand to grasp hers, making sure that I was going to give the right handshake, as there were so many to choose from back then. Regular kaçak iddaa handshake, no problem. I looked at her for really the first time. I guessed her to be my age, but I was a bad judge of things like that. She was about five foot four and seemed on the slender side, although it was tough to tell with the loose fitting long sleeved blouse she was wearing.
She had somewhat of a Mediterranian appearance, curly dark brown shoulder length hair and beautiful olive skin. Very, very cute. Translation: very much out of my league. Therefore I was very surprised when she asked if I was going outside to smoke and then asked if she could join me.
Outside, the air had turned much cooler during the short time I had been inside, although perhaps it was just the contrast from the balmy atmosphere of the concert hall. Doreen explained that her roommate was supposed to go to the concert with her tonight but got stuck working an extra shift. I was trying to figure out a way to ask whether the roommate was a he or a she, but drew a blank. What a freakin’ great conversationalist I was. It didn’t seem to bother Doreen in the least however as she kept the conversation going as a monologue.
She was so incredibly likeable that she soon had managed to made me feel very comfortable, so much so that we were soon acting like old friends, talking about everything under the sun. Outside of her habit of saying that virtually everything was far out, there was nothing not to like about her.
I made a vow to myself that I would not retreat into the shell that my lack of confidence would always send me to. Nobody here knew me. If I bombed out down here, there was no harm done, because I would never see any of these people again. I just had to try and be the same person with Doreen that I was when around my friends. That generally took quite a while, and that kind of time I didn’t have here.
We talked so long that we had to hustle to get back inside before the show started. The James Gang came out and played. To be honest, I truly don’t remember a lot about it. I know I enjoyed it, but I was distracted by my new friend. She was bouncing around toward the end of the concert, dancing madly, and I found myself joining her. If my friends could have seen me then, they would not have believed their eyes.
The show ended and we joined the herd slowly filing out the exits. I let out a couple of baaahs which she found hilarious for some reason. She had such an infectious laugh that I longed to hear it again.
The cool air was a real wake up call as we got outside. I was trying to figure out what to do at this point. I didn’t have a whole lot of money, so going to a bar was out of the question. I looked down at my watch to try and see what time it was, because the last bus left at midnight. Doreen saw me looking at my watch.
“Uh, do you have to be heading somewhere, David?” she asked. I started to tell Doreen about my bus schedule and everything but caught myself in time.
“No, not really” I replied.
Well, if you want we could go the store and get some brews and hit my place, if you don’t have anything else going on that is.”
I managed to stammer out something that sounded like I though that would be okay, and we began walking. At that moment I realized that I was kissing that last bus goodbye. I didn’t know where I was and I didn’t know where I was headed, but it had to be better than that bus.
We went to this little market that she said was near her place and headed toward the beer cooler, where I asked her to grab something she liked. I grabbed a six pack of Rhinegold Beer. They used to advertise on Mets games and it was cheap, which was important. The cheap part was the selling point, not the Mets part, my being a Yankee fan. Doreen surprised me by snatching a six pack of Ballantine Cream Ale. Good grief, that stuff was toxic! She would move way up on the approval rating if she actually drank the stuff.
We grabbed a bag of chips and went to the register. After the guy at the counter rang up the stuff, I began to think that tonight might be different for me. I had forgotten that I had spent more money that I had figured earlier in the day (I also confess that when I was at that theatre I had caved in and bought some M&M’s and Junior Mints from Dr. Phibes) and was running precariously low on funds.
I panicked momentarily when I saw the total, but was elated when I found I had money to spare. I had a dollar left to my name. With my normal luck I wouldn’t have had enough for the stuff and would have looked like a chump putting things back.
We hit the bricks once more and it was only a short time before we got to her place. It was a kind of seedy looking building and we had to walk up to the third floor. Her apartment was not exactly lavish. Spartan at best, with a kitchen that looked like the Kramden’s on The Honeymooners, only with some cool posters on the wall. We cracked open a couple of beers and she knocked back one of those Ballantines like kaçak bahis it was water. A cute girl with a great sense of humor, loves music and beer? Is that possible?
Doreen put a few albums onto the turntable and went into the bathroom. Steppenwolf filled the room as I cased out the joint. Not many albums, but good quality ….Traffic, Janis, Jeff Beck Group, The Kinks ….oooh I love this girl already! What the hell am I going to say when she comes out of the bathroom? I had to think of something! Something funny, something clever, something that doesn’t make me sound as nervous and as inept as I felt.
Doreen came out of the bathroom and came over to me as I nervously pawed through her albums.
“Uh, cool record selection,” I muttered.
“Yeah? Some are mine and some are Joni’s.”
Joni! A girl. Fantastic! I figured the roommate was a girl or else I wouldn’t be here, but it was nice to be certain. I finished the dregs of the Rhinegold and began to try and make witty converstion when Doreen put her arms around my neck and kissed me. After the initial shock I managed to regroup and return the affection. Doreen’s lips were a little thin, but she was enthusiastic about it. Seconds later, I felt her tongue trying to work its way in, which I eagerly permitted. Doreen’s hands swiftly slid down from my neck and squeezed my butt cheeks through my jeans.
“So, you wanna ball?” she cooed while smiling slyly and looking up at me with the most adorable expression.
I truly don’t recall what I said in response. All I do remember is being led by the hand through the kitchen into what I assumed was her bedroom. I was in a state of shock. All the years of hoping, praying and planning for this moment, and here it was.
Doreen was busily lighting candles that were on the dresser and night table. Soon the room was ablaze with candlelight and the smell of incense was in the air. I stood there lamely watching as Doreen unsnapped her jeans and pulled them off. She sat on the edge of the bed and took off her socks. She was down to her panties (pink) and her blouse. I was standing there in the middle of the room fully dressed like a moron. I must have looked like I was waiting for a train.
To be perfectly honest, the thought of bolting out the door crossed my mind, as dumb as this sounds now. I was terrified. I had thought and planned so much about this moment all during my teenage years that when it was on the verge of becoming a reality, I was starting to freak out. Time out! Help!
Doreen looked back at me and laughed.
“I’m way ahead of you David! Are you gonna make me go over there and rip those clothes off you, cuz I will you know!”
I laughed nervously and started pulling my clothes off as Doreen pulled the sheets on the bed down. My brain must have started to short circuit because I started worrying about everything. Maybe I should call home and tell them I would not be coming home. Water bed, I noticed. I tried to analyze that. Is that good or bad for your first time? How the hell would I know? Who cares, dipshit! I needed to get my head out of my ass and into what was going on.
I was finally down to my underwear as I watched Doreen leaning over the headboard to grab for more candles. What a cute little butt! Gorgeous thighs! The copper colored skin and those tiny pink panties were a potent combination. I began to forget how nervous I was as my cock started rising and got very hard, very fast. Doreen sprang back to her feet and slowly peeled off her top. Underneath the top she was quite naked.
Doreen was not wearing a bra. In that era not many girls did, it seemed. It was obvious that Doreen probably didn’t ever wear one. Doreen’s breasts were small and conical, and drooped a bit because of the lack of support they got from a bra. Some guys back then used to call this type of breasts banana tits. Me, I thought they looked sensational.
Virtually the entire ends of Doreen’s breasts consisted of surprisingly large, puffy crimson aureolas with thick stubby nipples jutting out stiffly. I was crazy about them and her.
“Oh, wait. Let me get some beers,” Doreen shouted and padded off to the kitchen. I pulled down my underwear and stood there in the middle of the bedroom naked, my cock standing out in front of me like a flagpole.
Is that good, I wondered? Should I have an erection already? Is that insulting? Does it mean I’m too eager? Shit, I was eager. I began having reservations about the whole thing. Damn, I wish my cock was bigger. I pulled on it for a second, wishing it would grow beyond its pitiful six inches (alright, not quite six inches but real close!) and be something like my friend Kenny’s weapon. That would impress her! If I kept on pulling on it this would be over before it started.
Mercifully then, Doreen skipped back into the bedroom with some beers, setting them on the night table.
“Ta-da!” Doreen exclaimed while holding her hands out like a dancer finishing her act, then looked down at my erection, which was shaking along with the rest of me.
Doreen smiled and walked over to me. She put her left arm around my neck while grabbing my cock with her right hand, squeezing it firmly.
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