Tuesday, May 03, 2005

I give up!

I'll just dig deep and come up with my own fucking story...

Summer of '82 or '83. I really can't remember. I actually think '82, but I just can't be sure. In any case, it was hot in the midwest, and as humid as my hometown of close to 200,000 souls usually is in the summer. My Dad and his gang had just finished a summer rec league basketball game, and decided we'd head to a bar and celebrate with a couple pitchers. I was ecstatic. This meant I could drink all the soda I wanted, and could probably squeeze enough quarters out of him to play "asteroids" until my shoulder was sore from yanking on the controller.

And for the first half hour, that's about how it went. Then the fellas waitress started checking up on me. She, as I recall, was 24. Black hair. Big eyes - brown, I think. And hot. Or maybe not. But definitely paying attention to me. Checking in on me and my asteroids marathon. Leaning in close.

"Nah." "No way," was all I could think. I mean, it isn't like I hadn't been looking at Playboy for 5 years. Or reading "Penthouse Letters" for at least that long. June was a WOMAN. And therefore couldn't possibly be interested in me. No matter HOW it might have seemed.

Still, before we left, she asked if I ever went bike riding. I being 14 or 15 (probably 15), spent most of the summer riding my bike. She asked if she could come along, and of course I said sure, and then she gave me her phone number and told me to call her the next time I went riding.

So, of course, I did. Not mentioning anything to my dad, I used the phone in the other room, and called her. No big thing. She told me she wasn't doing anything, where she lived, and to come over. Her apartment was well within the area my father and I had agreed was within the boundary I could travel without letting him know specifically where I was, so off I went.

I got there, to her garden level apartment on North 48th Street. She met me at the door, dressed in how the hell should I remember what she was dressed in!?!? I was all of 15, AT BEST! Anyway, she invited me in, and I brought my bike with me and leaned it against the wall nearest the door. She brought me a glass of iced tea while I looked at her eel. Seemed like a weird fish to have in your fish tank, I remember thinking, right after I thought, "this is weird. I wonder if we're really going on a bike ride..."

Then she asked me if I liked her eel. I said, "Yes, but it seems like a weird fish to have in your fish tank." She told me she liked MY eel, and then started rubbing what had magically become my very erect 15 year old cock through my pants.

"YIPPEE!" I thought. But the next thing I knew, we were kissing. Then she was pulling down my pants and sucking on me. I, being the suavest 15 year old I knew, suggested we go to the bedroom, like this: "Do you want to go into your bedroom?" I think she said "uh-huh" but the next thing I know, I'm on her waterbed, climbing under the covers while she has disappeared into the bathroom.

Details are even hazier from here on out. She came back to the bed. More sucking. I rolled her over, and started trying to smoothly work my mouth down to her pussy. "It's too late for that this time, lover," was her reply. No idea, but I wasn't about to quarrel, and risk ending what would, to date, be the greatest afternoon of my life. NOTHING would ever be the same. I was seconds from getting LAID!

And then I was. At first, I had one leg over hers as June was lying on her back, trying to spread her legs wider. With mine on top though, she just couldn't get her left leg outside of mine. So, patiently, she said, "Sweetie, can you please move your leg inside of mine?"

Me, trying to act cool, like I knew she was about to ask, "oh, yeah, sure."

BAM! My first orgasm. More fucking. WHAM. Another one. Again, things get fuzzier here.

June gets louder. I'm still on top, pumping away. Maybe I come again. She's wrapped her legs around my ass. Still louder she's carrying on. I'm sawing away faster and faster, wondering what my face looks like, and thinking "Man, oh, man, oh, man, fucking is SO GREAT! And I'm doing it RIGHT NOW!! I'm really fucking!" She's hanging onto my back and digging in so much that it's starting to hurt. LOUDER STILL, she's practically yelling. "I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming," louder and louder, right in my ear. Then, nothing.

No, absolutely, terrifyingly, NOTHING. No sound, just one last exhale, and then, NOTHING. I don't know how to emphasize this at all. She died. I know she died, because just seconds ago, she was more animated than every Saturday morning cartoon I've ever watched, and now, I don't even think she's breathing.

My thoughts are racing. She's dead. What do I do? Call an ambulance? What do I say when they get here, "I fucked her to death, really sorry?" What if I leave? Will they find me? Did someone see me come in? Should I call my dad? And say what exactly? If I call an ambulance, what can they DO? If I call my dad, what good can come of that? He'll have to say HE did it, and then go to jail, and I don't want that... I'm just a kid, can they do anything to me, really? Should I just leave, and pretend it never happened? Will her neighbors find her? If they do, will they know the cause of death?

WHAT THE FUCK AM I GOING TO DO??!??!!

All of this probably went through my head in less than 30 seconds, but until you've been in an earthquake, or some reasonably brief natural, or human caused disaster of terrific intensity and brief duration, I don't think you can know exactly how long 30 seconds can seem.

At the end of that time, though, just as I was about to climb off, put my clothes on and make SOME kind of decision, she came to. ONE great big breath in, a flickering of the eyelids and then she was looking at me.

Which must have been pretty amusing. Because she asked ME, if I was allright. "Yeah, yeah. Yah. I'm o.k., are YOU?!" or something like that came out of my mouth.

"Are you o.k.?"

"Yeah, sweetie, I'm fine," she answered. "I'm really, really, really goooooood," she said.

And again, I'll be damned if I can remember who did what next, only that I pedaled about halfway home as fast as I could, stopped, tried to calm down. Did so, a TINY bit, and then went home.

And didn't have sex again for 3 or 4 years. Not even a blowjob. And probably, to be fair, not from lack of tryin'.

Only saw here once after that. She was in a convenience store and I was shithouse drunk, pissed at my girlfriend at the time, which would have made it early Spring in 1988. I didn't recognize her at first, but I wasn't in my neighborhood, and she offered to drive me home, and once I got in the car, it all clicked.

"Can you still come more than once?" "Yeah," I boasted.

So off we went to her place. Only I couldn't. Or once for that matter. I was, really, really lucky to not vomit on her during. But she did drive me home.

And that is the very, VERY last I saw of June.

5 Comments:

At 5:53 PM, Anonymous marcus said...

fuck, man, that is the BEST post i've read on your blog so far.

i loved the death. the creepiness of seeing her again. and the buildup to it all- the bike ruse.

obviously you have some stories to tell, colton. tell us more.

and thanks a lot.

 
At 7:25 PM, Blogger Jefferson said...

Colton, baby, you are finding your voice as a blogger.

Keep trying new ways of writing, but I have to say--when you give us you, then you are on solid turf.

 
At 5:50 AM, Blogger Madeline Glass said...

I have to agree with the boys on this. FUCK! YES! THIS IS YOU!

Excellente.

 
At 3:47 PM, Blogger Colton said...

But it's ALL me, kids. Other than the subject, how is this post different from any of the others?

I mean, I guess it's a story, which might be the difference to which you are all referring, but I didn't make any effort to write differently than I usually do - but it seems that it "reads" different to all of you.

Can you tell me what seems different, specifically?

 
At 7:05 AM, Blogger Jefferson said...

Perhaps the difference really is the subject.

Reading your previous posts, you are primarily commenting on other people's blogs. Which is all fine and good, and gets us into your mind.

But once you talk about your own life, we are in your mind with you, and that is altogether different.

Don't stop doing what you do, but every now and then, do more of this, ok?

 

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