“So that was it? You came? Then what?”
“Well, she cleaned me up and sent me back home. I came back the next day after school and then the next day…and every day for a while.”
“You let her take advantage of you?”
“She wasn’t taking advantage of me, really. I guess in the legal sense she was. But I was happy for it. I was so glad to have someone to have sex with that I would’ve been there every day, if I could’ve. But her husband was home on the weekends.”
“Did he ever find out?”
“I don’t know. At first, she made it sound like they never had sex anymore. Later she admitted that they did have sex. I even heard them once in a while.”
“How did you feel about that…them having sex?”
“It was a lot of conflicting feelings, of course…I was so young. None of my classmates could get so much as a kiss from a girl, and I was having sex five days a week…sometimes two to three times a day. She was also teaching me. She taught me positions and techniques…how to hold myself back…Ruby was a good teacher.”
“How long did you and her have sex?”
“It was for over a year.”
“Really? A year?”
“Yeah. We did it all the time too. I was so horny then. We must’ve done it nearly a thousand times.”
“You never got bored of it with her?”
“No…I was fourteen years old having sex regularly. Plus, she was great at getting me turned on. She and her husband had a large collection of magazines and books. They even had a few early porno movies and a projector. That was really rare. So we talked a lot and had a lot of sex. She was the first person to tell me about the life and all that.”
“Were she and her husband swingers?”
“She never told me so, but I have my suspicions. She would always couch it as, ‘some people like to do this…’ so I never knew for sure. She knew a lot about everything so I imagine they did some things in their day. Maybe he even knew about his wife and I. I’ll never know.”
“Why did you stop?”
“I started seeing a girl at school, and Mrs. Crinshaw found another play-toy in the neighborhood. He was older than me, so perhaps she wanted a man instead of a boy.”
“Were you hurt?”
“Nah…I had really enjoyed the sex and what she taught me, but I had done everything I could with her…there was no place left to go. She was married, after all. I definitely missed the regular sex. It was hard just to get a handjob from a high school girl. But yeah, it’s not your usual deflowering story.”
“No, it’s not…”
“So here’s the part where you say, ‘Ah-ha…now I know why you’re a pervert, David.’”
“No, I wasn’t going to say that,” though there was a part of me that registered it that way, I guess.
“So what about you, Rachel? How did you lose your virginity?”
“A woman never tells.” I looked away.
“No way are you getting away with that!”
“David, I don’t have much to tell you. It’s more embarrassing than anything.”
“Back seat of a car? Janitor’s closet in high school?”
“Under the bleachers.”
“Yeah? Details?”
“Oh, next to your story it’s so bland.”
“Well, I told you, so you need to share yours, don’t you think?”
“Well, only because you insist.”
“I do, I do…”
“Remember, I warned you. My first was Elroy Johnson. I told you I was the nerdy girl. Elroy was the class clown. He was the skinniest guy you’ve ever seen, and had the biggest Afro in the school. People used to call him ‘Black Q-Tip.’ One day we were studying by the football field…we went there to get away from the others who would tease both of us non-stop. Football practice wasn’t until the afternoon.” David’s eyes were riveted on me. “So we were studying and I guess Elroy started flirting with me. He told me he had never kissed a girl, so I let him kiss me.”
“How old were you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Was this your first kiss also?” He seemed like he wanted to know every single detail.
“No, but I hadn’t kissed anybody for a long time.”
“Okay, go on…”
“So as we kissed, he began to touch me all over. I was shy, but I let him. It felt good to have somebody touch me, and he was such a nice guy…shy like me. And he had a nice smile. We both felt so awkward and out of touch with our classmates…so unwanted. He touched me and then started pulling on my clothes.”
“Right there on the football field?”
“Well, next to it, but yeah. I kept pushing his hands away, telling him we’d be spotted. He convinced me to go under the bleachers, as nobody would see us there.”
“Nobody was nearby?”
“No, we didn’t see anybody. We went under the bleachers and kissed more, and he began to touch me all over. I got very excited, so I lay down and let him play with me more.” I could see David’s erection growing. He was enjoying this! That seemed very strange to me, but I loved his largeness. I smiled as I continued, and I wanted to excite him more. “When I lay down, I pulled off my panties so he could see my pussy. I pulled up my blouse so he could suck on my nipples.”
“Did you like it?”
“Oh yeah, of course I did. I was getting wet.” Actually, I had been too nervous to get excited, but I wanted David to enjoy the story.
“Then what happened?” He was touching himself now, slowly moving his hand up and down his length.
“He pulled his penis out, and I touched it. It was the first time I had touched one. I didn’t know what to do, but Elroy pulled my hand up and down it, showing me.”
“Was he big?”
“He was long, but not very thick, I guess.” I could see he was imagining what we were doing, so I was dragging out what was a very short story. “I stroked my hand up and down his shaft, and I could feel him getting harder in my hand. I was enjoying how stiff it was.”
“Then what? Did you suck him?”
“No, I was too shy. I lay there stroking him. I didn’t know penises dripped when they got excited, so I thought he had already climaxed. I was so naïve!”
He was stroking himself faster now. His eyes were focused a thousand miles away. “Then what?”
“He said he wanted to put it in me. He asked if it was okay. I thought he was finished, so I didn’t understand. I said okay, but didn’t think he could. I was so wet, but I was very nervous also. He put himself in me.”
“How did it feel?”
“It hurt so badly. I was clenched so tight, and part of my hymen was still intact. It felt like a knife inside me. He was so excited, though, that he came almost instantly.”
“He came inside you?”
“Yes. I had never felt that before, so I thought he had peed in me. When he pulled out there was all this white stuff all over.”
“A lot?”
“It seemed like gallons, but it wasn’t, of course. I suddenly remembered that I could get pregnant and got very scared.”
“How did he react?”
“He pulled his pants back up, ran over to his books, and then ran back to school.”
“He left you there?”
“Yeah…left me with his come and my blood and all the responsibility.”
“Did you guys ever do it again?”
“No…after that, Elroy never talked to me again. He had been my only guy friend, and he would turn and walk away whenever I was near. We didn’t speak again until after we graduated.”
“Did he ever tell you why he wouldn’t talk to you?”
“No, but I know he was just abashed by his quick performance. It was just a couple seconds. He must’ve felt as embarrassed as I did by the whole thing.”
David moved on top of my body and entered me.
12
David rode with me in the taxi the next morning. I would’ve normally taken the
subway, but he was going to stop by a friend’s place on Long Island. It was an act of providence.
The taxi ride was long, and there was some unexpected traffic. Still we were soon pulling up to my house. I thought it might be a good time to introduce David to my father, but was afraid to ask him. I was hoping he would volunteer to come inside when we arrived.
As we pulled up, I looked at David for a second, waiting for him to kiss me goodbye. Instead, he said, “Let me walk you up.” I didn’t protest. He asked the driver to stay, and then we slid out of the car.
I hadn’t seen Darnell at all. I just heard his voice as we started up the walkway to my home.
“So…this is the dude you’re fucking. I didn’t know you liked white boys, Rachel.” I knew the voice without turning, but I did anyway.
I saw him standing there, chest bowed, fists balled. He was here to fight. Even at a distance I could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“Darnell, what are you doing here?” I shouted. David stood next to me. He exuded confidence, and I knew he would be there to defend me without question.
“I’ve been waiting for you. All night. You didn’t come home last night.” He took an unsteady step forward. His clothes were ragged, and his hair was a mess. Darnell was normally fastidious, so I knew he had to be very drunk. Darnell was more careful about his appearance than I was about my own. “Now you come waltzing home like a whore after her trick.”
“Hey man, watch your mouth,” David commanded. I could feel his body go rigid.
I grabbed his hand. “Don’t, David,” I warned. I knew Darnell was here for trouble, and I didn’t want David to be hurt by my stupid ex-boyfriend.
“You talking to me, white boy?” Darnell shouted. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” He slurred heavily, and his words were mistimed. Sloppy drunk.
“I’m her boyfriend, in case you couldn’t tell.”
Darnell took another step forward. “No, I’m her boyfriend, asshole.” He jerked his thumb at himself.
“You’re my ex, Darnell…we broke up.” Oh, I was so worried about what David would think about all this.
“Bullshit, Rachel. You know better than that.” He took another unsteady step. I could tell he was up to no good. His slow steps were to put him in a position to strike David. Or me. Or both of us. Darnell wasn’t subtle. He had never hit me before, but I had never seen him this drunk either.
“Darnell, you’d better leave.” I turned to David. He was locked on Darnell: two men, both showing their status and position. Both coiled like snakes for a strike. I tried to step in the middle, but David’s forearm blocked me.
“Step back, Rachel. If he wants a fight, I’m ready.” He was very self-assured, and I loved that about him. I felt so safe. I did not, though, want it to come to blows.
“Listen, motherfucker,” Darnell commanded, “You don’t know what Rachel and I have. It’s something special. You need to take your cracker ass off this lawn, get in your taxi, and drive the fuck away.”
“I’m not leaving, Darnell. I’m here because she wants me here.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, and then his fist was flying toward David.
David, though, had seen it coming. He stepped back deftly, then threw his own punch over the top, hitting Darnell flush in the mouth. Darnell landed backward on the ground with a thud, and I saw his upper lip was split. He spit blood onto the cement, and then stood up, stepping back from David. David stood coiled, ready for another attack.
Darnell stepped farther back, and again spit blood onto the cement.
“Okay man, okay…you asked for it.” Darnell reached into his back pocket, and produced a small pistol. “Now you die, motherfucker!” He stepped forward now, and pointed the pistol at David’s face. I shrieked in horror and stepped backward. The taxi peeled out and raced down the street.
David, though, didn’t budge. “Go ahead, Darnell. Shoot me.”
“I’m gonna shoot you in that big mouth, motherfucker!” Darnell shouted. I could see his hand shaking, but he was just feet away and probably couldn’t miss at this distance.
“What are you waiting for then? Shoot!” David stood perfectly still, with complete confidence. He showed not an ounce of fear. His gaze was steady, while the pistol wavered.
“You die today!” Darnell shouted. Now it seemed as if his courage had flagged, and he was using his words to bolster his courage. David saw it too.
“So what are you waiting for, Darnell?” David shouted. “Shoot me, asshole! Pull the fucking trigger!”
Darnell stepped forward again, and the gun was nearly touching David.
And then David struck. With catlike speed, his right hand punched Darnell’s wrist, while the other hand flicked the gun from his hand. The gun skittered across the cement to the street’s asphalt. David threw another punch, and this time hit Darnell on his right eye. He fell again to the ground, this time flat on his back.
“Darnell, what in God’s name are you doing?” This time it was my father. His deep, gravelly voice was followed by the clack of his pump-action shotgun.
Darnell, now bleeding from his eyebrow, turned to look at him, shamefaced.
My father stepped down the curb, neither raising nor lowering his gun.
“Darnell, look at you. What have you done to yourself?” He seemed to pity him, but I could see his hands squeezing the shotgun. I worried he might shoot Darnell where he sat.
“You don’t know how I feel about her, Mr. Walker.”
My father stepped up to us, and we all stood above Darnell, regarding him. Darnell suddenly seemed very small. Insignificant.
“Daddy, this is David.”
They shook hands. We heard the distant siren of a police car. Darnell spit blood one more time.
13
The cloak-and-dagger aspect of New York swing society at this time reminded me of old, cheap war movies. Coded messages. Smoky meeting rooms. Foreign accents. All it needed was black-and-white film and Humphrey Bogart.
The first swing club David took me to was in Midtown. Downstairs, we met the doorman. David said, “I’m here to collect rainwater for Madrid.”
The doorman looked at him, then me, and said, “Twenty-fifth floor,” as he pulled open the door for us. In the elevator, we had to use a special key. David inserted it, pushed the “25” button, and then put the key in his wallet.
The Trojan was a rather ironic name for a swing club because, in those days, nobody used condoms. However, many people did dress up, some as ancient soldiers of Troy. Others dressed as witches or priests. Most though, like us, didn’t wear costumes, and instead just wore dark clothes and hoped nobody would recognize us as we entered. The Trojan was an entire floor of the building, which normally held five large apartments with views. The rooms radiated out from the elevator landing. From the elevator, they just appeared like regular apartment doors. Inside, they were all interconnected, and adorned in over-the-top toga-party chic. The music was loud and the marijuana smoke was heavy.
I was shivering, but I wasn’t cold. I didn’t know what to expect. I think I assumed that I would walk off the elevator and somebody would drag me into the bowels of Hell. Instead, I saw two nicely dressed men holding drinks and talking. David and I shook hands with both of them. The first man was introduced to me as Miguel, and I was told he was the “overseer of events.” He made sure rules were enforced and nobody acted belligerently. The second man was very slender with long hair. He said, “Billy,” as I took his hand. His handshake was very effeminate. When we entered the door closest to us, David said, “Did you recognize the long-haired guy?”
“No.”
“That’s Billy Allison. He’s the singer for Blue Monday.”
“He looks so different in person.”
“Yeah…he usually wears makeup for his shows.”
“Do you know him?”
“Not really, but he gave me tickets to their Radio City Music Hall show last summer. Nice guy.”
As we m
oved into the first room, I saw a long bar and a collection of different styles of chairs. Bean-bag chairs, swivel chairs, white and metallic chairs, red plush chairs. One chair looked like a Louis XVI, and another looked like something Andy Warhol would perch himself on. We took a seat at the bar, and I ordered a wet martini. David ordered a Manhattan.
“This isn’t what I expected,” I confessed to him. I had to raise my voice over the music.
“How so?”
“All these people are talking to each other.”
“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing…I just thought everybody would be fucking.”
He let out a huge laugh. “Many will, but some just come for the vibe…the openness...”
I still felt a little prickly about being here, so I probably asked the next question with a touch of anger in my heart. “Have you slept with anybody here?”
“In this room?”
“The people who are all sitting here.”
He looked around the room. “No, I don’t recognize anybody. Doesn’t mean we didn’t, but I don’t recognize them.” For some reason that made me feel good. I started to turn to take a sip of my drink. Then he shocked me again. “But I had a threesome with Billy and another girl once.”
“With Billy? You had sex with Billy?”
“Well, I think we were more focused on the girl, but we all had sex together, so yeah, we did.”
“Is Billy gay?” I still was grappling with sexuality. Sad that I was letting silly things like that define me…and us…and others…
“No, he was giving her the business pretty well, so I guess he’s bisexual.”
I knew in my mind that this also made David bisexual, which at this time carried a huge stigma. I had enjoyed our romp in the park and our outdoor adventure, but this seemed like a whole new world to me. In my heart, I was still a good Christian girl. Never in a million years would I have imagined I would be in a Manhattan swinger’s club, figuring out my boyfriend swung both ways, if only sometimes. I thought people went to Hell for these types of things. Yet, here I was. I told myself it was for David, but was it? I was good at transference, so I stuck with it.
Follow You Down (Farfalla Book 1) Page 9