Part Three

Wednesday – The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

by Ersatz

# Jake

I finished my shower and was dressing to go down for breakfast when my little sister banged on my door.

“Jake,” Shelly called, “Phone. It's a girl.”

She handed me the cordless phone.

“Hello?”

“Jake.” It was Amy!

“Amy?”

“Yeah. Look, you left my car at school. I need a ride. Since it's your fault I'm carless, you can pick me up.”

“It's not exactly my fault I didn't drop you off at school last night,” I replied. “You insisted.”

“Jake,” she said firmly, “pick me up in a half-hour.” And she hung up.

That girl was more frustrating than anyone I'd ever met. I thought about letting her find her own way to school. She didn't ask me in a particularly nice way. Actually, she didn't ask me at all. On the other hand, it really was almost on my way. Maybe, I thought, this is her way of ending our fight? But is that what I want? I agonized over it for a while.

A half-hour later, I pulled into Amy's driveway.

“Shell,” I pleaded, “could you please ride in the back this once? Please?”

“Is Amy your girlfriend?” Shelly asked.

Sigh. “Not only is Amy not my girlfriend,” I said glumly, “she can barely tolerate me right now.”

Shelly gave me a long, measuring look and got out of the car and into the back seat.

“Thanks, Sis,” I said. “I owe you one.”

Amy came out of her house, and got in the front seat. She gave me a tiny frown, just in case I'd forgotten how angry she was at me.

“Amy,” I said, “this is my sister, Shelly. She's a sophomore.”

“Hi Shelly,” Amy said with a smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

“How do you know Jake?” Shelly asked. “He hasn't mentioned you at all.”

This earned me another glowering look. Thanks Shell.

“He's in most of my classes.”

“I heard a rumor that Jake's been reading dirty poems in front of the whole class. Is that true?” Shelly asked.

“Oh yeah,” Amy smiled. “He's read three poems so far this week and they've all had the words 'fuck' or 'cunt.' And, of course, he does it buck naked which adds extra spice to the naughty words.”

Shelly giggled. “Well, I knew he was in The Program, but you're not kidding me about the dirty poems?”

“Nope. It's Jake's Dirty Poetry Show every day this week in English Lit.”

Shelly guffawed. “You didn't tell me how cool she was, Jake.”

Amy bestowed another smile upon Shelly, then turned and gave me a disgusted glance.

You're such a big help, Shell, I thought. This is just what I need.

Amy and Shelly chatted amiably until we got to school and I parked the car. Amy got up, and shut the door firmly without saying another word to me. She stalked off right past her ex-friend Cindy who was getting out of a car a few parking spots away. I was still in the car, so I couldn't hear what they said to each other. Cindy waved and said something. When Amy turned, her body language made me think that Cindy should be thankful that Amy wasn't armed. At least I wasn't the only one on her shit list. Amy made an angry gesture, said something, then left, pointedly snubbing her.

Cindy was livid. I don't know what Amy said, but it sure hit home. Cindy looked over at me. I just shrugged. She wouldn't have heard anything I said from inside my car, anyway. Besides, the storm brewing between those two was too rough for me.

I was really pissed at Shelly. It was bad enough that Amy was mad at me. Shelly didn't have to make her cute comments making things worse.

“Shelly,” I said, “Amy was already pissed off at me. I don't need you to egg her on.”

“Amy's great, Jake,” Shelly replied. “I really like her. I could tell that she likes you too. Don't worry, it'll work out.”

“All you did was pour gasoline on the fire. She's probably even more pissed at me now than she was before.”

“Oh, I was just jerking your chain. I'm sure she knew that,” Shelly said. “But you're right, she is mad at you. What did you do to her?”

“I don't know, Shell, and it's driving me crazy! We were driving in my car and talking last night and I must have said something really stupid because I thoroughly pissed her off. And the worst part is she won't tell me what I did wrong.”

Shelly gave me her patented you-are-such-a-moron look and said, “well, if you can't figure it out, I don't see why she should tell you.”

“Well, fuck you, too,” I snorted.

Shelly patted me on the cheek. “Hey, don't go nuts over this. Believe me, she likes you. She wants this to work out. Just talk to her about it.”

Then Shelly walked off to her homeroom.

I finally realized why I couldn't stand the thought of getting relief in English Lit. class. Jerking off in front of an entire room of high school kids was pretty abhorrent. Thankfully, I thought I wouldn't have to do that. After the Jake and Pam show Monday, and oral sex with Amy yesterday, there were girls willing to assist me. Not to say that getting a hand-job in front of the class wouldn't be rather embarrassing, also. It was just that after walking around with a stiff and oozing prick for a couple of hours, it really started to seem like it wasn't such a bad idea. My point is that while getting your rocks off in front of the class was embarrassing, it was another thing entirely to wipe off your deflating cock, then get back up there and read some boring poetry written by some dead, white guy that nobody in the class really gave a rat's ass about.

So when Mr. Larsen asked me if I'd like relief, I passed. Then he called me up to read my poem of the day.

“Someone has started referring to this as Jake's Dirty Poetry Show,” I said. There were several amused faces in the class and I was happy to note that Amy smiled briefly, also. “I'm sorry to tell you that today's poem doesn't have any explicit references to naughty bits, fornication, or British terms for self-abuse. Here is one of my favorite poems: The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock, by T. S. Elliot.

    Let us go then, you and I,
    When the evening is spread out against the sky
    Like a patient etherised upon a table;
    Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
    The muttering retreats
    Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
    And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
    Streets that follow like a tedious argument
    Of insidious intent
    To lead you to an overwhelming question . . .
    Oh, do not ask, 'What is it?'
    Let us go and make our visit.

    In the room the women come and go
    Talking of Michelangelo.

    The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
    The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
    Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
    Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
    Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
    Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
    And seeing that it was a soft October night,
    Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

    And indeed there will be time
    For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
    Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
    There will be time, there will be time
    To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
    There will be time to murder and create,
    And time for all the works and days of hands
    That lift and drop a question on your plate;
    Time for you and time for me,
    And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
    And for a hundred visions and revisions,
    Before the taking of a toast and tea.

    In the room the women come and go
    Talking of Michelangelo.

    And indeed there will be time
    To wonder, 'Do I dare?' and, 'Do I dare?'
    Time to turn back and descend the stair,
    With a bald spot in the middle of my hair
    (They will say: 'How his hair is growing thin!')
    My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
    My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin
    (They will say: 'But how his arms and legs are thin!')
    Do I dare
    Disturb the universe?
    In a minute there is time
    For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

    For I have known them all already, known them all-
    Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
    I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
    I know the voices dying with a dying fall
    Beneath the music from a farther room.
    So how should I presume?

    And I have known the eyes already, known them all-
    The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
    And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
    When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
    Then how should I begin
    To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
    And how should I presume?

    And I have known the arms already, known them all
    Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
    (But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
    Is it perfume from a dress
    That makes me so digress?
    Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
    And should I then presume?
    And how should I begin?

    Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
    And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
    Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...

    I should have been a pair of ragged claws
    Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

    And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
    Smoothed by long fingers,
    Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
    Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
    Should 1, after tea and cakes and ices,
    Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
    But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
    Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
    I am no prophet-and here's no great matter;
    I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
    And I have seen the eternal Footman bold my coat, and snicker,
    And in short, I was afraid.

    And would it have been worth it, after all,
    After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
    Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
    Would it have been worth while,
    To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
    To have squeezed the universe into a ball
    To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
    To say: 'I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
    Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all'-
    If one, settling a pillow by her head,
    Should say: 'That is not what I meant at all,
    That is not it at all.'

    And would it have been worth it, after all,
    Would it have been worth while,
    After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
    After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor-
    And this, and so much more?-
    It is impossible to say just what I mean!
    But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
    Would it have been worth while
    If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
    And turning toward the window, should say:
    'That is not it at all,
    That is not what I meant, at all.'

    No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
    Am an attendant lord, one that will do
    To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
    Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
    Deferential, glad to be of use,
    Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

    Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
    At times, indeed, almost ridiculous-
    Almost, at times, the Fool.

    I grow old ... I grow old ...
    I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

    Shall I part my hair behind?  Do I dare to eat a peach?
    I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
    I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

    I do not think that they will sing to me.

    I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
    Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
    When the wind blows the water white and black.

    We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
    By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
    Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Mr. Larsen stood up and said, “I'm surprised, Jake. I won't have to apologize to any parents about this poem.” He smiled. “Actually, it's an important poem in modern English Literature. Does anyone have any ideas about what it's about?”

Amy raised her hand. “It's obvious what it's about, and why Jake likes it. He identifies with it. It's Jake, the intellectual outsider, never able to take part in the huge party he imagines everyone else having. It's a litany about poor Jake who's all alone. It's really an excuse. Excuses for why Jake can't come out of his shell.”

Wow. Amy was more pissed off at me than I thought. I was trying to think of something to say when I got some unexpected support.

“Oh that's ridiculous,” Pam said. “Everyone looks in from the outside, at one point or another. That's not the point of the poem. Jake identifies with the protagonist breaking loose from his restraints. He wonders 'do I dare?' just like we all do and finally he overcomes his reluctance, walks on the beach in his white flannel trousers, and then goes out and grabs a peach and eats it. The peach is a metaphor for the juicy fun stuff in life.”

“Yeah?” Amy snorted. “What about the peach? Ever think that the peach might not want to be eaten?”

Pam looked at Amy for a moment and raised her eyebrows sardonically. “Well, if the peach doesn't want to be eaten,” Pam said, “then maybe the peach shouldn't ask him to eat her in the first place. The peach certainly looked like she enjoyed it.”

Amy's face turned quite red, but she certainly didn't look like she was done. I thought I'd try to defuse things.

“Look,” I interjected, “I'm right here. If you want to know what I think about the poem, don't you think it would be easier to just ask me?”

Amy and Pam both looked at me coldly, and simultaneously said, “No.”

“The point is,” Amy said, “that it's the same old sexist, male point of view. You're right, the peach is a metaphor. How do you live life to the fullest? You go out and conquer as many women as possible. A guy with restraint is just a loser.”

“It's not sexist,” Pam replied, “It's normal human interaction. He hears the sirens calling to him. He can't be expected to resist that. Sirens are irresistible.”

“They're not sirens in the poem, they're mermaids,” Amy retorted. “Not only are they resistible, but considering the part that's half-fish, they're incapable of satisfying him.”

I just couldn't stop myself. “I dunno about that,” I replied. “You haven't really lived until you've had one of them mermaid hummers.”

There were only a few kids in the room who were really following Amy and Pam's overly-intellectual discussion about precisely what sort of asshole I was. Dennis and Beth looked like they really enjoyed the whole thing. I thought Linda did too. Most of the kids weren't sure that Pam and Amy were speaking English. But I'd always found that absolutely everyone loves the phrase “mermaid hummer.” The whole class broke up. That ended the discussion to everyone's satisfaction.

Well, almost to everyone's satisfaction. Amy was giving me a very strange look that filled me with both dread and anticipation. Pam winked at me. I wondered if I really knew who was the mermaid and who was the peach.

Amy

I certainly couldn't sit with Cindy and her crowd at lunch like I usually did. Greg had tripped a freshman who dumped his lunch tray all over himself. John and his crowd of football players were all there yukking it up with Cindy and her cheerleader pals. If I sat there I'd be compelled to do something like neuter the lot of them with my spork. I don't think a jury would convict me – not if they knew what sort of shallow, elitist, malevolent snobs they all were. God, how could I have tolerated them before? What had I been thinking? I suppose that I ignored their flaws because I thought that Cindy was my friend and John loved me. I should probably thank John for dumping me.

I sat with Beth and a few of the other kids who were in AP classes with us. They were all very nice and the conversation was much more interesting than usual. Beth was one of the first friends I made when I moved here. Cindy didn't get along well with Beth, so I'd always had to choose between hanging out with Cindy or Beth, but not both. For some reason, I'd usually hung out with Cindy. That was going to change.

I could see Jake eating and chatting with Linda. They looked like they were having a good ol' naked lunch. Linda certainly thought whatever Jake was saying was amusing. I have to admit, he could be witty.

Beth noticed me occasionally glancing over to Jake's table. She leaned in to me and said very quietly, “You know, we could ask them if they'd like to sit with us. There are no peaches on the menu today, and no mermaids around.”

I had to chuckle at that, even though it was at my expense. I know she meant it kindly.

“I don't think so,” I said, “not today.”

We finished lunch, and I walked with Beth to gym. Normally, I'd thought of gym as a complete waste of time, but today I absolutely dreaded it. Monday's scene with Jake and Pam in the shower was really titillating, but I just didn't feel up to watching it again. I don't think I've been so depressed since we first moved to Kansas. I was angry, hurt, and embarrassed. I didn't know who to trust anymore.

Gym was its usual waste of time, but when gym was over, it was far worse than I had imagined it could be. Pam didn't pull Jake into the shower again – Cindy did. I was close enough to hear the entire thing. Cindy kept glancing at me to see how I reacted, so I think she planned it. I just had to watch the whole thing. It was like watching an accident; I couldn't look away.

Everyone was walking to the showers. Jake was heading into the girl's shower when Cindy walked over to him and said, “Hey Jake. It's my turn. Let's head for the shower.”

Jake looked at her for a moment and said, “Thanks, Cindy, but I don't think that's such a good idea.”

Cindy was having none of that. “Jake, come with me to the shower. That's a Reasonable Request.”

Jake sighed, and followed her in.

I put my gym clothes into my locker, and headed for the shower. Jake and Cindy were already there. Cindy told Jake to wash her. She told him to wash her ass, then wriggled it and backed into his erection, and rubbed up against him for a bit. Then she had him wash her breasts. Cindy had very large tits, much bigger than mine. She told him to wash a bit harder, then pinch them. Then she told him to wash her pussy.

Jake washed her crotch for a little bit and then Cindy leaned against the wall, facing him with her legs apart and said, “I hear you give great head. Jake, kneel down and lick me.”

“I'm sorry Cindy,” Jake said, “but no thanks.”

“Jake,” Cindy said firmly, “I'm telling you to lick me. Reasonable Request, remember? You have to do what I say.”

“Cindy, that's not a Reasonable Request.”

“Fine,” she said. She turned to face the wall, bent down, stuck her ass out at him and wriggled it.

“Fuck me, Jake,” Cindy said. “Hard. I want it hard. Right here, right now.”

I was furious. I thought I was angry before, but it was nothing compared to this. The water washed over me as I clenched my fists and stared at them.

“Look Cindy,” Jake said in a deliberately reasonable voice, “I'm really sorry about this, but I'm not going to have sex with you. I'm sorry, but it's just not going to happen.”

Cindy twisted herself around, and shoved him in my general direction. It was all Jake could do to keep himself from falling flat on the slippery shower floor.

“Loser!” She spat. “Wimp! Here, Amy, he's yours.”

“Hah!” I shouted. “Keep him. You get my rejects, not the other way 'round!”

Jake jerked like he'd been punched. He gave me a wounded look and left.

The anger drained out of me, and I stood there feeling cold and empty and alone.

Jake

I didn't have to worry about whether Amy would forgive me, anymore. And after the way she'd been treating me, I didn't care if she did. What bothered me the most was that I didn't understand why she was so mad. I supposed it was about Pam, but that didn't seem fair. I was up-front with her about Pam and The Program.

It was funny that only after Amy had made it quite clear that she never wanted anything to do with me, I could finally admit to myself that I had really, really liked that girl. The reason I turned Cindy down was that I thought it would probably hurt Amy, since Cindy started fooling around with John immediately after they broke up. If Pam bothered Amy, doing anything with Cindy would probably drive Amy nuts.

Cindy was a real bitch, but she was also tremendously hot. It took some willpower to turn her down.

I didn't know what was up with Amy, but the way she turned on me really sucked. Maybe that made it easier to get over her and move on. At least I didn't have to kick myself for not trying, but I would have felt better about it if I had understood what went wrong. Maybe I could avoid that sort of thing in the future. One thing was clear; I was much better off without her.

The best thing I could do, I supposed, was to try and have some fun. I couldn't crawl back into the hole I dug when I broke up with Karen.

I couldn't manage to keep my mind on track during Psychology. Regardless of my resolution not to sulk, I was pretty down. After class, things started to look up. Pam was waiting for me in the hallway as I left the class.

“Hi,” I said.

“Oh, what's wrong with my little friend?” Pam asked, looking down. “Is he sad? Doesn't he want to come out and play?”

I followed her glance down to my flaccid penis.

“Sure, Pam,” I said, “whatever you want.”

“Tell you what,” she said, “Bring me dinner after rehearsal, and after we eat, we'll fool around a bit. I want...”

“I know what you want,” I interrupted. “You want Moo Shoo Shrimp (an extra container of hoi sin sauce) and General Gao's Chicken (extra spicy) from Lee's Pagoda.”

Pam looked at me appraisingly. “That's exactly what I like. How did you know?”

“I must have heard you give your dinner order to other guys at least a dozen times,” I said. “But, I won't fetch your dinner.”

Pam made a little pouty-face.

“I won't fetch your dinner, but I will take you to dinner.” Hmmm... I had an interesting thought. “I'll pick you up after rehearsal, take you to Lee's Pagoda, and a movie afterward.”

“How about just dinner?” she countered. “I'm not really interested in seeing anything that's playing right now.”

“Nope,” I said. “Dinner and a movie. Trust me. I've got a surprise. If you don't like the movie, we'll leave. But I think you'll like what I have in mind.”

“Well, okay,” she agreed.

“Oh, one more thing. Do you have a curfew?”

“I have to finish my homework, but I'll do that during rehearsal. Once that's done, I can stay out until 10:30,” she said.

“Perfect. This will probably work out great.”

“Okay, pick me up at a quarter to five.” And she walked off.

I got out my cell phone. Good thing I had a few minutes until the next class. I had to wheedle a big favor from my mom.

On the way to Calculus, I saw Amy walking in my direction with a determined look on her face. Oh god, not again, I thought. I turned around and walked in the other direction. It made me a little late for class, but I didn't have to go through another ordeal with her. The mood I was in, I'm sure I'd yell right back at her even though I have no idea what we've been fighting about. Fortunately, my desk was closer to the door than hers, so I could bolt out of class when the bell rang. I had nothing to say to her, so why should I have to endure another confrontation? It was better to just avoid her.

I had to wait a few minutes after school ended because I told Shelly I'd drive her home. She usually had jazz band practice or got a ride with her friend Joan, but that day was an exception.

After getting dressed, I waited in front of the school for Shelly to show up. I was talking on my cell phone making some arrangements for tonight when Shelly walked up. I finished the call while we walked to the car. We hopped in and started the drive home.

“Hey, Shell,” I said, “have a nice day?”

“Sounds like you have a date – on a school night no less,” Shelly teased. “I guess you finally gave in and groveled at Amy's feet and she magnanimously forgave you? I'm glad things worked out. She seems like she's really nice. I could tell she likes you a lot.”

“Yes, I have a date,” I said, “but it won't be very late. I have to get her home by 10:30. And it's not with Amy. Amy doesn't want anything to do with me. She made that quite clear.”

“Jake,” Shelly said in her most exasperated tone, “Amy does not, not want anything to do with you!”

“What the hell are you trying to say?” I laughed. “'She doesn't not, not want anything?' What does that mean?”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” Shelly groaned. “I mean, you're wrong about Amy.”

“Nope. Amy's pissed at me,” I said. “I couldn't possibly be wrong about that.”

“You just don't get it!” Shelly said.

“Why don't you just come out and tell me what I'm supposedly not getting?”

“Look, Amy is mad at you,” Shelly said, “but it's not that simple. She's not mad at you like she'd be mad at just anyone. She's mad at you in an I'm-so-pissed-at-my-boyfriend kind of way.”

“Shelly, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. Amy can't stand me.”

“Really?” Shelly said skeptically, “so if she can't stand you, why'd she call you to drive her to school this morning?”

“She hates me?”

“You idiot,” Shelly said, “if she hated you, she'd just avoid you. She's mad at you, and she wants you to know how angry she is. Since she's miserable, and you made her miserable, she wants you to suffer, also. That way you'll know you have to make up with her. You just have to talk to her, Jake. You'll see. She really likes you a lot.”

“That's crazy. You're reading way too much into this. It's really very simple. Not only doesn't Amy have any feelings for me, she can't stand me. You spent ten minutes with her in a car and you think we're star-crossed lovers. Nothing could be further from the truth. And the way she's been treating me, I don't want anything to do with her, either.”

“Fine, have it your way, you big dork!”

And then there were two girls who weren't speaking to me. I turned up the radio, and the rest of the drive home was reasonably pleasant.

When I got home from school, I had to make a few more calls to line things up. Fortunately, I was able to reach the guy I needed. It was good to have friends on campus. Being the provost's kid certainly helped a lot.

I still had a couple of hours before it was time to get ready to pick Pam up, so I read my email and sent a new note to Dave telling him about how it had fizzled with Amy before it even started. I told him about the whole scene in the shower.

Dave was home, and replied right away.

Jake,

Too bad about Amy. But, dude! You should have at least had a good fuck with that Cindy chick!

--D

Dave has always had his priorities in order.

I took a shower, put on some clothes (for a change), and left to pick Pam up. She was waiting in the vestibule, so I didn't have to take my clothes off just to go into the school to pick her up. I got out of the car, and opened the door for her.

“Aren't you a sweetie,” she said as she got in. She gave me a quick peck on the cheek in passing.

Dinner was fun. I was worried that we wouldn't be able to find anything to chat about. We'd never really talked to each other before. Up until then, our conversations were mostly: “Oh!,” “faster!” and, my favorite, “yes, right there!” But I didn't have anything to worry about. We chatted about how Kiss Me, Kate was coming along, theater and plays in general, and wherever else the conversation led us. I found out that in addition to being tremendously sexy, Pam was also funny and very nice. I had a good time and I think she did, too.

Pam's fortune cookie: You can light a candle to escape the darkness, but when you extinguish the candle, it is not the same darkness.

My fortune cookie: If you lived here, you would be home now. Ancient Confucian wisdom must have been in short supply at the fortune cookie factory.

After dinner, we hopped into my car and drove to campus. When we got out, I grabbed my big canvas gym bag from the back seat.

“We've got a quick stop to make before we can watch the movie,” I said.

“What's with the bag?” Pam asked.

“Well, this is a sort of do-it-yourself movie night. Don't worry, I think you'll like it.”

It was cold, but not terribly cold, so we took our time and chatted as we walked over to Gerardi Hall. We entered the building and went downstairs.

“Okay, there should be a wall lined with mail cubbyholes somewhere around here...”

“There it is. Over there,” Pam pointed.

“Great. Now we're looking for Frank Richards' mail slot... Got it.” I pulled out a very fat manila envelope.

“What's in it?” Pam asked.

“See for yourself,” I said and handed the envelope to her.

She opened it and said, “Oh Jake! This is perfect!” Inside the envelope were three film reels. They were clearly labeled The Taming Of The Shrew, Elizabeth Taylor, Richard Burton, directed by Franco Zefferelli (1967).

“Where can we watch it? Do you have a projector?”

“That's our next, and last, stop,” I said.

We left Girardi Hall and started walking to the auditorium, a few buildings away.

“Who's Frank Richards?” Pam asked. “And how do you know him?”

“He's a graduate student who runs film festivals for Professor Shelton,” I said. “Both my parents are faculty, so I met him at a party my mother threw for the English department. I go to most of the films he shows. We've chatted before and after the movies, and we became friends. We both love movies – although he knows way more about them than I do.”

We walked up to Dole Auditorium. The lights were completely off.

“We're lucky that there's nobody using the auditorium today after 6:00.” I took out a big key ring and tried three or four before finding the key that fit. I held the door open, and we walked into the dark building. I made sure the door was locked behind us.

“How did you get keys to this place, Jake?” Pam asked.

“My mom is the provost. I borrowed her keys,” I said. “Let's see, lights should be over here.” I found the lights and turned a couple of them on. The lights in the hallway and vestibule went on. We walked to the next doorway and peeked in. The lights in the auditorium were still off. “Perfect. Now let's find the projection booth.”

We walked up a small stairway off to the right side. We were confronted by a small locked door. It took a bit longer, but the door finally yielded to a key on the big key ring. I turned on the lights and we walked into the projection booth.

There were a pair of projectors and a panel covered with switches inside. Fortunately, the switches were all clearly labeled. I flicked one, and a movie screen lowered itself at the front of the auditorium below.

“That's a relief,” I said. “I was worried that the setup in here would be too complicated for me to use. I was in the AV club in middle school. Don't tell anyone, please, they already think I'm a complete geek. This is more complex than anything I've used before, but it's not too bad. Frank told me it would be easy, but I was worried.”

“Hand me the first reel, please,” I asked Pam. I wound the film onto the projector and turned it on. I adjusted the volume a bit, grabbed the bag and Pam's hand then led her down to the auditorium. We plopped into our perfect seats before the titles finished.

“This is so cool having the whole theater to ourselves,” Pam whispered.

“There's no need to whisper. As you said, we're alone.”

“This is just so romantic,” Pam continued. “We're the only people here, and you picked absolutely the perfect film. You're so thoughtful. Thank you, Jake. I love it.”

I reached into the bag and pulled out a box of popcorn and two sodas. “You're welcome. Here.”

I thought she'd probably love seeing The Taming Of The Shrew because the musical Pam was rehearsing for, Kiss Me, Kate, was adapted from it. Frank told me that this was supposed to be a very good film of the play. To be honest, I couldn't see why Elizabeth Taylor was such a big deal. She was an okay actress, but not great. Richard Burton was in his prime, however, and he was magnificent.

I had to get up a couple of times and run to the projection booth to change reels, leaving Pam alone in her seat. One of the things I had noticed about her was that she loved to have guys do things for her. She seemed to get a real kick from being waited on by someone lusting after her. So rather than being annoyed that the screen went white and the movie stopped, she seemed to really enjoy my running up to the projection booth.

When the movie ended, I went up to the projection booth, turned off the projector, raised the screen, and brought the house lights up a little. We could see, but it was still dim. I went back down to the auditorium to get Pam.

“There's one more thing, before we go,” I said. “Follow me.”

I picked up my bag, and led Pam to the front of the auditorium.

“Look what we have here,” I grinned, “a stage. Well, well, well... whatever could the two of us do on a stage, all alone in this large theater, where we're very unlikely to get caught?”

Pam grinned back mischievously. There was a small stairway at the side that led us onto the stage. I took a blanket out of the bag and laid it out on center stage. We sat down. Then I took a few candles from the bag and lit them with a lighter I'd brought.

“Candles, Jake?” Pam smiled. “You've thought of everything.”

“I thought a spotlight might fit into your fantasy better, but the glare would be terrible for the person on the bottom,” I joked.

“Always thinking of my comfort?” Pam teased.

“Hell no,” I chuckled, “I'll be on the bottom so you can do most of the work. If a spotlight is in my eyes I wouldn't be able to see those lovely titties, your sensual neck, or your beautiful face.”

She arched her eyebrow and said, “We'll just have to do it several times so we can each enjoy the bottom. I've never fought with a guy over the bottom before.”

“No, but you have guys fighting over your bottom.”

“Does it bother you?” she asked.

“It would be pretty hypocritical if it did. I'm on The Program and I've been messing around with other girls. I'm really enjoying my time with you, Pam,” I said. “That's enough for me right now.”

“Right now?” she echoed. “Just right now?”

“When we're together like this, right now is all I can think of.”

I leaned over, and pulled her into a heated kiss.

Amy

Jake stalked away, naked, wet, and indignant. It felt like a piece of me tore off and went with him.

The other girls finished their showers, and walked out, leaving me alone... No, not alone; Beth had seen the whole thing and was still in the shower, watching me.

“Beth,” I wailed, “I went too far. Did you see what happened?” Beth nodded. “I have to catch up to Jake and apologize!”

Beth grabbed my arm and said, “I don't think that's a good idea right now, Amy. Did you see the look on his face? He's pretty mad. I think he might not want to accept your apology until he's calmed down a bit.”

“If he wants to yell at me, well, I deserve it.”

“If he yells at you, you'll shout right back at him. That's not going to lead to an apology.”

“I suppose,” I glumly agreed.

“What was that scene with Cindy about anyway?” Beth asked.

“I was just so mad at Cindy that I wanted to say something to hurt her the way she'd hurt me. I didn't want to be mean to Jake. Oh, it's even worse than that; Jake's been so understanding and nice to me while I've been such a bitch to him.”

“I don't know if it helps,” Beth said, “but I've known Cindy since the third grade, and I've never seen her this angry – well, maybe the time Bobby Miller ripped the head off her Barbie.”

“He handled himself perfectly,” I said. “She was only seducing him to hurt me, and Jake handled it just right. He turned her down. I'm sure he did it for me.”

“He did it pretty nicely, too,” Beth commented. “He was a gentleman about the whole thing. What more could you want?”

“Well, I suppose I would have liked it a little better if instead of saying he'd prefer not to have sex, he had said the thought of touching her skanky cunt made him sick,” I snorted, “but you can't have everything.”

Beth giggled.

“I'm such a bitch,” I repeated. “I've been fighting with Jake since yesterday and I can't really think of a reason why. He's completely in the right.”

“How did Cindy know having sex with Jake would bother you?” Beth asked.

“I dunno. I was pretty nasty to her when I ran into her this morning. Maybe she saw Jake drive me to school and figured I had the hots for him or something.”

“Amy, you have your own car,” Beth said. “Why would Jake drive you to school?”

“I asked him to,” I said, “well, to be fair, I suppose I told him to. I insisted.”

It was kind of silly just standing there in the shower getting colder and colder, so we grabbed our towels and started to dry off.

“But why?” Beth asked.

“I kind of picked a fight with Jake in his car yesterday after school. I got mad, and made him drop me off at my house since it was closer. My car was still at school.”

“Amy,” Beth said with an exasperated sigh, “you're telling this backward, aren't you?”

“I guess. I'm a bit upset about this whole thing,” I said. “I'm not exactly sure when this began, but I'll try again.”

We walked back to our gym lockers. I took the time to try to compose myself. All of the other girls had finished dressing and left. There was always lots of time after gym to shower and dress before our next class.

“I broke up with John yesterday,” I began.

“I knew that,” Beth said. “I think the whole school knows it by now.”

“I know I should have seen it coming, but I didn't. I was stunned. Then Cindy told me she was going out with John and his friends that night and that she was interested in him. You know what it means when Cindy says she's interested in a guy, right? It really hurt a lot.”

“You shouldn't have been surprised about Cindy, either,” Beth commented. I knew Beth never liked Cindy, now I knew why.

“Yeah. So after school, I went to get dressed and ran into Jake. I was a mess. I felt like everyone I trusted had betrayed me. Jake was such a sweetheart. He was so nice to me.”

“Well, it sure looked like he was nice to you in Civics class,” Beth chuckled.

“Oh my god, Beth!” I exclaimed. “When he went down on me it was, like, the best thing I ever felt!”

“Better than John?” Beth asked. “I mean, Jake's cute, but John is a real hunk. I'd think he'd know how to show you a good time.”

“John doesn't like oral sex – at least giving it,” I replied. “It was nothing but wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am for a while. The sex felt good, you know, but it's been a couple of months since John gave me an orgasm, and that was fingering me while we were making out.”

“Okay, so Jake ate you to a fabulous orgasm in class...”

“Umm, actually several orgasms,” I interrupted. “I've never had one right after the other like that before.”

“Okay, okay, he ate you to several fantastic orgasms,” Beth said, “so what did he do to you after school?”

“Nothing like that. We just talked. He asked me why I was so down, and I told him about breaking up. He asked me if I'd like to take a long drive with him. I thought he wanted to have sex, but he just wanted to listen to my problems.”

“That really is very sweet,” Beth commented. “I didn't know he was such a nice guy.”

“Yeah, he is,” I agreed. “And talking to him really did help a lot. We talked about everything. I felt a lot better, but I wanted him so bad. And I knew that while I was just talking with Jake and not having sex, John was out with Cindy. I knew that Cindy would have sex with him. I mean, Cindy thinks of it as a sort of transaction that keeps her popular. I really just wanted to feel Jake inside me; make him feel as good as he made me feel when he listened to my problems and when he ate me.”

“So you wanted to have sex with Jake because you're grateful?” Beth asked. “And because you're mad at Cindy and John?”

“No! I want to have sex with him because he's so nice, and because he makes me feel so great, and because I really, really want him. We didn't just talk about my problems. Jake told me a lot about himself. He's been hiding himself away since he moved here, but last night he opened up to me and showed me who he really is. He didn't do it because he wanted to get me into bed – he could have had that, anyway, and he refused. He did it just because he liked me and trusted me. It was kind of odd. Jake told me about breaking up with his old girlfriend. The story just touched me. I got wet listening to how he loved his ex-girlfriend, but let her go because it was best for her and so they could stay friends. He was so nice, so romantic, so thoughtful, and so unlike any other guy I know. God, I wanted him so much.”

“Well, that sounds like things were going well,” said Beth. “So what happened?”

“Yeah, things were going well. I was still hurt by the breakup, and probably even more by Cindy's taking advantage of it, but I was feeling a lot better. Then Jake said that, while he didn't think it was a good idea to have sex right then, he was messing around with Pam. They're going out this weekend.”

“That doesn't sound that bad,” Beth said, “unless you think that Pam is going to become his girlfriend. But I don't think Pam does the girlfriend thing. She just likes to have guys chase her.”

“Jake said that Pam doesn't want to have a relationship,” I agreed. “He says they're just having fun.“

“So what's the problem? If you started dating him, then asked him to stop seeing Pam, he probably would.”

“No, that wouldn't be fair – at least not until after this weekend. He already promised her he'd take her to her cast party after the play. Jake messing around with Pam doesn't really bother me – especially while he's on The Program. In fact, if it's like what they did in class, I'd like to watch.

“I don't really know what's wrong with me. I don't understand exactly why, but I went nuts. All I could think of was that it was just like John and Cindy. I know that doesn't make any sense, but I was really mad at them and took it out on Jake.”

“I guess you do have to apologize to him,” said Beth.

“Not just that,” I said, “when I went nuts, it was in a loony, possessive sort of way. I'm not like that. Really. I mean, when John fingered Linda, it didn't bother me. Actually, I thought it was kind of hot. I'm really not very possessive. I don't know how to make him believe that, after what I did. “

“An apology is a good start,” Beth smiled encouragingly. “You can take it from there.”

I was a bit late getting to Psychology class. Everyone looked up when I walked in the door. I caught Jake looking at me when I walked in. His normal calm expression fled when he saw me and then he pointedly looked away. I wished I sat close enough to him to get his attention and tell him that I wanted to talk to him. I spent the entire class thinking about what I might say to apologize, occasionally fantasizing about ways he might show me that I was forgiven.

I left Psychology class and waited in the hallway, hoping to run into Jake before Calculus. I saw him and started walking toward him, but when he saw me he got a grim look, turned around, and walked the opposite way. I already felt terrible, after that I felt even worse.

Calculus was torture. I hoped that he'd look over at me and I'd give him some sort of hopeful smile, but he steadfastly refused to look anywhere in my direction. When the bell rang, he bolted out of the door.

This was going to be hard.

I picked over my dinner. We usually chatted about what happened during the day. Tonight, however, I just gave monosyllabic grunts whenever Daddy asked me something. Finally, he just gave up.

“Want to tell me what's bothering you, Pumpkin?” Daddy asked.

Sigh. I thought I might as well tell him about it. It wasn't like I could think of anything else, anyway.

“I had a big fight with Jake.”

“Jake?” Daddy repeated. “What about John?”

“Oh yeah, we broke up. Yesterday.”

Daddy actually looked amused.

“What's so funny about my being miserable?” I spat.

“Do you remember Labor Day weekend?” Daddy chuckled. “You had a fight with John, and you sulked for a week. Now, you broke up with John, no problems. Next day, you're going out with Jake and sulking after having a fight with the new guy.”

“There is no new guy,” I said. “And I'm not going out with Jake.”

“Okay, so what's the problem?”

“As I said, I had a fight with Jake,” I repeated. “I don't have to be going out with someone to fight with him.”

“Apparently not.”

I glared at him and it was his turn to sigh.

“Talking about what's bothering you might make you feel a bit better,” he said.

I snorted, “That's what got me into this.”

I told Daddy about breaking up with John, and that Cindy decided to go out and mess around with him that same night. Then I told him about the ride with Jake. I certainly didn't want to tell Daddy that his little girl wanted hot, steamy sex, and after Jake's refusal, I went nuts. The problem was the story didn't make sense without it.

I've never talked about sex with Daddy. Mom had given me all the sex talks. She was very frank about it. I was completely embarrassed at the time, but she was open and insisted upon telling me everything in very explicit terms. It's not that he was a prude; no, he and Mom were very liberal about sex. But I was always Daddy's little girl and little girls just don't want some guy to pound into her until she screams.

I'd stopped telling the story and Daddy was just looking at me, waiting for me to continue.

I realized I was being stupid. I could talk to Daddy about anything. I knew that. In fact, that was my whole problem with Jake. If I'd faced my feelings directly, I wouldn't have used Pam to cover for my own insecurities.

“Daddy, you know I'm sexually active, don't you?” I asked with some hesitation.

“Yes,” he smiled. “I'm not stupid. I know what those pills in the bathroom are for. This is something we can talk about, you know. Your mother and I talked about this before you were even born. Sex is a healthy part of life. And your mother and I want you to have a rich, full life.” Daddy grimaced a moment. “Sorry, honey, but sometimes I talk like your mom is still alive.

“Anyway,” he continued, “your mom and I were both sexually active when we were your age. As long as you're responsible, there's nothing wrong with it. It's part of a healthy relationship. It would be hypocritical of me to expect you to stay a virgin.

“So let me guess,” he said, “you had sex with Jake last night?”

“No,” I answered, “that was exactly my problem. I wanted to have sex, but he refused. He told me he wouldn't take advantage of me in a moment of weakness. I was upset about John and Cindy and he just wanted to listen to my problems.”

“I knew I liked that boy,” he chuckled. “You know, when I was his age, I don't think I could refuse sex.”

“Twice.” I said.

“You asked him twice?”

“No,” I explained, “he turned me down last night and then today in gym... You know about The Program?” He nodded. “Well, Jake is on The Program this week. One of the rules is that you have to take your showers with the opposite sex. Jake was in the shower, and Cindy knew I liked him, so she tried to get Jake to have sex with her. He refused again because he knew how she'd hurt me with John, and it would hurt me if they had sex.”

“Well, he might be an absolutely wonderful guy,” said Daddy, “but on the other hand, maybe he doesn't have any experience and is a bit awkward about sex.”

“Daddy,” I said trying hard to look at him without blushing, “I haven't had sex with Jake, but I know he's not a virgin, and I know he's not awkward about sex.” I didn't succeed. My face was so red it would glow in the dark. “What I have done with Jake was the most fantastic thing I've ever felt. He almost killed me.”

Daddy chuckled, “Okay, I guess that makes him a great guy. So you had a fight with him, that's not so terrible. Apologize and make up.”

“You don't know what I did,” I said, getting close to tears. “After he turned Cindy down – which was just the sweetest thing any guy has ever done for me, I mean, we're not even going out – Cindy pushed him at me. I was so furious with her I would have said anything to hurt her. I told her to keep him; that she got my rejects, not the other way 'round.”

I felt a tear trickle down my cheek.

“Daddy,” I cried, “the look Jake gave me just broke my heart. He was being so wonderful and I treated him like dirt. He was so hurt. He wouldn't even look at me for the rest of the day.”

“Well, Pumpkin,” he said, “that is bad, but the answer is the same. You have to apologize to him. He might be too hurt to forgive you. But if he's a really great guy and cares about you – and the way he's been acting, he almost certainly cares about you a lot – he probably will forgive you. It might take some time, though.”

I nodded, and wiped my face with a napkin. Then I got up, started clearing the table, and putting the dishes into the dishwasher. Daddy started rinsing the pans. After we finished cleaning up, I felt better. I felt resolute.

I got out the school directory and looked up Jake's address.

“Daddy, do you mind if I go out for a bit? I won't be very late.”

“Where do you want to go?” he asked.

“I want to go over to Jake's house and apologize,” I said.

“You could call him.”

“I could, but I'm afraid he might just hang up on me. Besides, I really have to do this in person.”

“Take my cell phone. Remember, you have school tomorrow.”

I grabbed his phone and gave him a peck on the cheek on my way to the door. “You're the best, Daddy.”

As I drove over to Jake's house, I tried to figure out what I would say. My mind was a blank. I knew I had to apologize. I didn't know exactly how, but I'd face that when I got there.

I parked and walked up to the house. It was an old Victorian-style house with a sort of round turret on one side. The roof on the round part was a little taller than the rest of the house, making it look something like a tower attached to the house. I'd heard that style referred to as a Queen Anne house. Jake must not have been completely joking Monday night when he said he lived in a tower. It was easy to look at the nice old house – a lot easier than facing up to Jake. It was time to stop musing and go ahead and do it.

I rang the doorbell. After a moment, Shelly answered.

“Amy,” she said, obviously surprised.

“Hi, Shelly,” I replied, “Can I talk to Jake, please?”

“Umm...” she dithered, “Jake's not home right now.”

“Oh.”

“Amy,” asked Shelly, “are you going out with Jake?”

“No, not really.” I felt sad that was the case.

“So, you're not his girlfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Well, Jake's... out.” Shelly said. She was such a dear. I knew what she was doing. She was trying to be fair to Jake, but not hurt me.

“Jake's out on a date, right?” I asked. “It's okay, Shelly. There's no reason for him not to be.”

Shelly nodded.

“I'll talk to him tomorrow,” I said. “Shelly? Could you please not tell him I stopped by? I'll talk to him at school. Please?”

“Okay,” she said.

I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Shelly,” I said. “I hope Jake realizes what a good sister you are.”

She snorted, “Yeah, right. He's just a big dork.”

“Well, don't tell him I said this,” I replied, “but he's a really cute, wonderful dork.”

She smiled, and I walked back to my car.

# Jake

Our kiss was long and slow. Unlike our other encounters, we had plenty of time. We both wanted to take our time and enjoy ourselves fully. Our tongues met, and I held her close. She ran her arms up and down my back. I kissed up her neck and nibbled on her earlobe.

Pam moaned, then grabbed my head with both hands, drew me to her for a hard, fast kiss, then pushed me away. I unbuttoned her blouse, taking my time. It took a lot of restraint not to simply rip it off her. She wasn't wearing a bra, and that had been heating me up all evening. I'd thought about unbuttoning it during the movie, but Pam was really enjoying the movie, and I didn't want to distract her. I peeled the blouse off her, then kissed her neck.

Pam kicked off her shoes and sat down on the blanket. She unbuttoned her jeans and leaned back, inviting me to take them off. So I did. It would be rude not to, I joked to myself. I pulled down her jeans and tossed them aside. I was eager to satisfy my curiosity. More French-cut panties? Nope. She was wearing a black thong.

“Have I told you that I absolutely love your underwear?” I asked her. “Really. Half the fun of undressing you, or peeking under your skirt, is discovering what sort of exciting underwear you're wearing, or not wearing.”

“Half the fun?” She giggled. “Well, that doesn't say much for the other half.”

I took hold of the thong and eased it down as she delightfully wriggled her ass off the floor to help.

“Oh no. I adore the other half, also, but as Dr. Frankenfurter said in Rocky Horror, I see you shiver with anticipation.”

Pam pushed me over so that I sat down on the blanket. Then she crawled onto my lap and put her arms and legs around me. It was so oddly asymmetrical; I was fully clothed and Pam was totally nude. Strangely, this seemed more... well, more naughty, than if we were both naked. She was completely available to me, while I was armored within my clothes.

“Let's explore this anticipation, then,” she said.

I ran my hands down her back and up her sides. I kissed her neck, then down to her shoulder.

“Mmmm,” I murmured, “this is a nice change. Seems like I've always been the one naked while you've been dressed. I like this.”

I kissed her collarbone and the front of her neck while I rubbed her ass. Pam gasped, “Well, turnabout is fair play, you know.”

We made out while I explored her body with my hands. After a while, I'd caressed and kissed everything I could reach with her sitting in my lap. I slid her off my lap and started kissing down her taut stomach. I took several long, slow licks around the outside of her pussy. Pam sighed.

Pam pushed me away and said, “Save that for a bit. It's your turn first.” Then she tugged my shirt up and lifted it over my head. She pulled my pants off. There was a splotch on my underwear where I had leaked. She tugged the underwear down and tossed it aside. She pushed me down so I was lying on my back. She licked my dick like a Popsicle before finally taking me into her mouth. I groaned. She moved her head and tongue in delightful ways.

“Okay,” I groaned, “I was wrong. I love discovering your underwear, but it's nowhere near half as good as this.”

Pam chuckled, sending delicious vibrations through my cock. I gasped. Pam sped up, pulling my orgasm out of me as I gushed into her throat.

“Wow,” I said, after a moment, “that was great. Your turn.” I lowered Pam to the blanket and moved between her thighs. I could see her outer labia glistening and welcoming me. I kissed them.

Pam grabbed my hair and pulled me up toward her clit. I was planning to resist when she gasped, “No teasing. I need it now.”

I sucked her clit into my mouth and began flicking it with my tongue. I slipped two fingers into her and began rubbing the top of her tunnel, searching for her spot. Almost immediately, Pam began bucking and writhing. I rode it out, stimulating her as best I could until she pushed me away gasping, “Enough!”

I sat up and ran my hand over her stomach as she lay there panting. Pam was laid out in front of me. Her legs spread apart to show me her pussy, wet and welcoming. Her hair was tousled. Her breasts rose and fell as she breathed deeply.

“You are beautiful, you know,” I said.

Pam smiled, then ran her hand down my stomach to my groin, feeling my hardness.

“Come here,” she said.

I moved onto her as she guided me inside. We started with long, slow strokes and after a while we moved together with more speed and urgency. She gasped and grabbed my ass with both hands pulling me into her with all her strength. Since my movement was restricted, I ground my pelvis onto her clit. She moaned and started thrusting her hips and I met her with equal ferocity.

“Oh, Jake,” gasped Pam, as she began to climax again. That was too much for me and I went over with her.

I slid out of her and lay down beside her. We lay together, breathing heavily for a while. I kissed her shoulder.

“Mmmm,” she purred, “that's how a movie should end.”

I chuckled.

“I'm glad we could do this,” said Pam, “because I'm afraid I have to disappoint you a little. We've got another dress rehearsal Friday afternoon, so I can't see you then. But we're still on for Saturday, okay?”

“That's fine. It'll give me some time to rest up for you. Otherwise, I'm sure you'll kill me.”

“I'd still like it if you could come to the play when it opens Friday,” she said. “I want you to take a date, okay?”

“Sure, if I can find someone,” I replied.

“Ask Amy, I'm sure she'd go with you.”

“What?” I exclaimed, “I don't think so.”

“Jake,” Pam said, “did you think either of us gave a damn about that stupid poem? What do you think we were arguing about? If Amy was a dog, she'd have pissed on you to mark her territory.”

“I don't want to go into it, but even if she would go out with me – which I seriously doubt – I don't want anything further to do with her.”

“Would you like to tell me about it? You can, you know. It won't bother me if you talk about other girls with me.”

“That's very nice of you,” I said, “but I'd rather forget I ever met her.”

“Well, then, we'll just have to find someone else for you to take to the play...” she trailed off.

Suddenly Pam shrieked, “I've got it! It's absolutely perfect. Oh, Jake, you just have to do this!”

“Do what?” I asked.

“Take Brenda Miller to the play Friday,” she replied. “Jake, you've simply got to; it's just so perfect.”

“Why Brenda Miller?” I asked. “I mean, I don't even know her. Why would she go with me?”

“Because she's my understudy,” Pam babbled. “If something happens to me – which is not going to happen – then Brenda gets to play my role. See? It's perfect. I can't go, so we'll send my understudy. I'm sure she'd do it if I asked her, and I told her how great you are in bed – you are, you know, not that we've ever made it to a bed – I'm just sure she'd do it.”

Pam was getting really excited about this. “And Jake?”

“Um... yeah?” I wasn't thrilled with this idea, but I didn't know how to tell Pam.

“Jake,” Pam said, “After the play, I want you to fuck her. I want you to eat her 'till she screams and then plow into her until she can't walk. And you know what the best thing is?”

I was afraid to ask. “What?”

“I want you to think about me the whole time,” Pam said. “You see, that makes it complete. She'd be my understudy in every way. It would be great if when you came, you moaned 'Oh Pam!' But I think that would be too much, don't you? I mean, it might hurt her feelings.”

I just had to laugh. “The whole thing is too much. It's absurd.”

“I know,” giggled Pam, “but it was just so much fun to think about. Hmmm.... how are you doing down there?” And with that Pam leaned over and took me into her mouth, caressing me orally, as I rapidly hardened again.

Pam straddled me and said, “Jake, I want you to call me Brenda. But when you come, moan 'Oh Pam,' okay?”

I laughed again, “Sure thing, Brenda.”

Pam slowly rocked back and forth. I held her hips and just watched for a while. Then I sat up, making sure I stayed inside her. I was sitting, and Pam was sitting in my lap, impaled on me. I kissed her breasts. Then I kissed her, pulling her tight against me. She gently rocked her hips against me the whole time.

I lay back down and looked up at her again.

“Oh Brenda,” I moaned, “that feels great.”

Pam giggled and smiled down at me. “It feels great to me, too, Jake.”

We continued for quite a while. Then Pam started moving faster. Occasionally, I made 'Brenda' comments, which she appeared to enjoy greatly. Eventually, Pam leaned forward, ground her pelvis into mine, and rocked herself to what appeared to be a nice orgasm.

“You're especially beautiful when you come, Brenda,” I said.

Pam started raising herself up and slamming into me with more and more vigor and I began to feel the beginnings of my orgasm stirring. I thrust up to meet her. Finally, I couldn't take it any more and started spurting into her.

“Oh Pam!” I moaned.

Apparently, that was what she needed. She came again, more strongly this time. She stopped moving after a bit, and just dropped until she was lying on my chest as I softened inside her.

Pam's head was lying on my chest so all I could see was her mane of tousled brown hair resting on me. Her shoulders were heaving. I thought Pam was panting until she raised her head with a wide grin and I realized she was laughing. I thought about her little Brenda game and started laughing with her.

“You know, Pam,” I said, “the next time I run across Brenda Miller, I'm not going to be able to look her in the face.”

That started another round of raucous laughter.

It was almost 10:00. We had to leave soon if we were going to make her curfew. Pam put everything back into the bag, while I got the film reels. It was a good thing that Frank said he'd rewind the reels the next day. He really was a great guy.

We turned off the lights, locked up, walked back to my car, and started the drive back.

“Jake,” Pam said, “I've had a great time. But you've been so imaginative and put so much effort into this date, I'm worried that you'll be bothered when I see other guys. That's one reason I want you to take someone to the play Friday.”

“Just not, Brenda, okay?” I laughed.

“Sure,” she chuckled.

“Yeah,” I said, “I think I'm okay with it. I'm having a great time too, you know.”

“All right,” she said, “here's a test. I want to ask your opinion about something. You know Patrick Saunders?”

I nodded.

“Well, he's playing the male role opposite me in the play. I'm Lilly/Kate, and he's Fred/Petruchio. It's a play-within-a-play with paired roles, you see.”

I knew the basic plot, so I nodded again.

“Well, Pat is okay in his role, but he's a bit wooden. I know it's just a high school production, but there's not as much chemistry as I'd like. So I was thinking that maybe he would be a bit more passionate if, before the play started, I gave him the beginning of a blow job, but stopped before he came. That way he'd stay excited through the play. I don't want to be mean, so I'd finish him off after the play. Think it would help?”

“That's likely to backfire,” I said. “Doesn't it take years of training for an actor to be able to act from a reservoir of emotion, or in this case, horniness?” We both chuckled at that. “I'd think he'd be as likely to rush through his lines or even forget them in his excitement.”

“You're probably right,” she sighed.

I followed her directions and we found ourselves in Pam's driveway with about five minutes to spare. I got out and opened her door. We walked up to her house.

“Jake, that was the most fun I've had in the longest time,” Pam said.

“Me, too,” I said. “Everything was great.”

“I can't wait for Saturday. You said you have another place we can have sex after the party, right?”

“I think so.”

“Well, until then, if I need inspiration to feel sexy when I'm on stage, I'll just think about you.” Pam kissed my cheek and said, “Thanks again, Jake. Tonight was wonderful.”

Pam opened her door, gave me a final wave, and walked inside. It was a cold walk back to my car. The problem with mermaids, I mused, was that they always have to return to the sea.

Copyright © 2004 Ersatz. All rights reserved