Love Is For Losers

Chapter 14 of Carnival

Carnival

Chapter 14

Love Is For Losers

“…Never been so embarrassed,” Janet was saying bitterly, her lovely hair flying. “Never!” She shook a fist in his face, her expression wild with contempt. “You a*****e! You filthy son of a b***h! You fat ugly prick! You…you…you b*****d!” She buried her face in her hands and sobbed, and when she looked back up she was no longer just a distraught pretty girl. She was a psychotic, raving hellcat. She spat in his face, socked him right in the nose, raked her long nails down his cheek, called him every insult at her command. Finally she sank against the cab window, breathing heavily, and when she looked at him again she seemed to have regained control. “Why,” she panted, “why did you have to bring me into it? Just tell me that. It’s not enough for you to singlehandedly destroy the good vibes in that place, it’s not enough for you to just ruin everybody’s day with your rowdy s**t, but then you have to go connect me with all the trouble you caused, and get everybody staring at me.” Her voice rose, fell, rose again. At last she screamed,“JesuswasIembarrassed!” Designer tears tumbled down her cheeks, from an inexhaustible supply. She bit her lip and spat, “I’m getting sick of your s**t!” her words and expression nearly identical to those terminating Mike’s outburst three days earlier.

Kevin wiped his nose and let his head hang almost to his knees, long past defending himself. It seemed he could do no right.

They were in the bed of a Park Ranger’s green pickup truck, being banished from the beautiful park as troublemakers. The driver, a conscientious Ranger in his late thirties, sat gruffly behind the wheel with shoulders hunched, wearing regulation sunglasses. He never once turned around, though he was no doubt keeping an eye on their reflections in the rear view mirror. The occasional hitchhiker looked after them curiously.

“Sorry,” was the only defense Kevin could muster. For the last half hour he’d uttered the word with parrot-like redundancy.

“Well, that’s great! That’s just f*****g peachy! That clears it all up, does it? I was having such a good time, too. At least you could tell me why.”

Kevin wagged his hands. “I don’t know,” he whined. “I guess it’s a guy thing.” He shook his head. “It’s just that I…well, I didn’t want that phony taking advantage of you.”

“I’m a big girl now. I can take care of myself.”

“Well, I thought since I was kind of escorting you--”

Janet leaned forward and the glare of her eyes cut him off. She said fiercely and very distinctly, “You don’t own me, buster. Nobody owns me. And for that matter, I don’t know where you got this stupid idea you’re some sort of chaperon or escort or whatever the hell you think you are, because you’re not. I’ll make my own decisions when and how I want to make them. Is that perfectly clear? I won’t have you playing big brother, either. You’re like a child who thinks he can have everything he wants, and when something doesn’t go his way he throws a tantrum. But you can’t own me, mister, so you keep your fat hands out of my personal life. Is that perfectly clear? Do we understand each other?”

It was. They did. Kevin, having drawn deeper into himself throughout the scolding, was now peering plaintively between his kneecaps.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I said I was--”

“And I heard you--for the eight hundred and thirty-seventh time! So just shut up and stay out of my face. You’re giving me one hell of a headache. As a matter of fact, you are a headache.”

Kevin closed his eyes. He’d deserved the scolding, had almost enjoyed it. For, no matter what she said or did, he was still with her, and being near her under any circumstances was infinitely better than being without her. On the back of his eyelids he reviewed her terrible indignation when he’d sheepishly told the infuriated Rangers he was there as her escort. Once the Rangers had everything under control, they’d rounded up Kevin’s much-dirtied but self-righteous opponent. The crowd was highly in favor of the young man--since he cut a finer figure and had pretty much controlled the fight’s tempo--and had unanimously fingered Kevin as the instigator. After damning Janet as roundly as Kevin, the Rangers had confabbed, deciding to not call in the police for fear of a riot, given so many youngsters with their blood up. They had ordered Janet and Kevin into the back of the green pickup, to be forcibly removed from their beloved park. Janet had been in tears.

The Ranger drove them all the way to Monterey, although he’d not been ordered to do so. His orders were to remove them far enough up the coast so as to be out of the county, but he had a girl in Monterey. When he pulled over it was twilight. Kevin and Janet were shivering.

“All right;” he said curtly as he stepped from the truck, “hand your bikes over the side.”

Kevin obeyed and dropped to the road on aching legs. Janet refused any assistance from the Ranger, who shrugged and gave vent upon Kevin’s bowed head the full measure of his fury.

“Now, if I ever see either one of you in my park again I will personally, repeat personally, rout you like rabbits and run you out by the seat of your pants. You hear me? We’ve kept Sur a nice place, even with all you kids up here, even with all the publicity. And let me tell you, most of those kids are really nice guys. Kinky or not, they believe in what they’re doing. But there’s always some punk who has to throw a wrench in the works. You’re good and goddamned lucky I’m not dropping you off at Carmel City Jail. The only reason I’m not is because we don’t need the bad publicity. And we don’t need creeps like you.”

Kevin took it all wordlessly, by now conditioned to reprimand. The Ranger stormed away, climbed in his truck and threw it in gear. Janet immediately mounted her bike.

“Wait!”

“Wait,” she wondered icily, “for what?”

“Look, let me make it up to you, Janet. I didn’t mean--”

“Yes, you’ve told me and told me and told me! You’re sorry. It was all a mistake. You’re a peace loving hippie. A sorry peace loving hippie.”

“Okay, then I won’t say I’m sorry. But please don’t just run off without me. Please. Look, I’m asking you--I’m begging you. Janet, I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”

Something like a smile firmed the girl’s soft lips, but it passed as she looked away, up the road at the brightening lights of the city. “I’m almost there;” she said quietly, “that house I told you about. I’m quite sure I can make it the rest of the way without your kind of help.”

“At least let me get you a cup of cocoa first. It’s too cold to ride without something to warm you up. Maybe you’d like something to eat.” He was clutching.

“Okay,” she said presently. “You can buy me cocoa.”

Monterey was cracking and fizzing with fireworks. It was the beginning of the municipally-sponsored Fourth of July celebration, and just the distraction Kevin had been praying for. Janet, delighting in the aerial displays, quickly forgot all about the day’s unhappy episode.

Kevin bought her an expensive king-size fireworks kit and, a little later, gratefully bought her cocoa, and then a meal that would have pleased his father. As she led him through the boulevard shops her mood continued to brighten. She allowed him to buy her a blouse, a multicolored handbag, a transistor radio, and a poster showing The Beatles romping through several scenes of the movie Help!

Kevin was relieved to be on something like speaking terms again, although he realized his appeal resided in his wallet. That was all right with him. He would rob banks to keep her.

As they found the coast and began to idly pedal along it was old days again. She rattled on tirelessly about the fireworks and about her friends, while he sucked up beside her, his jaw slack, like a loyal pooch fascinated by the absurdly complicated modulations of his mistress’ voice, and impatient to delight in that single command which kept them a unit: Kevin! Fetch!

They made slow headway. As they neared the Seaside residence Kevin used every excuse to stall for five minutes here, for ten there. He was, already, visualizing himself being rewarded and dismissed with a perfunctory handshake or peck of lips. Kevin saw it coming--but not as a bad turn. It was another ice-cold rip-off, just like the rest of the crap he’d taken all…oh, years. But this was worse than a loss; it was a calamity. And a guy can take only so much. Scratch a victim…there comes a time when that guy wears a new face: the face of an animal without compromise. At this stage no compassion remains, no honor. Only the high-gear nervous action of snarling defense. The grip on Kevin’s handlebars became viselike. His mind went dark, his pouting expression twisted into a savage grimace. His face grew so contorted Janet immediately braked her bicycle.

“Wow! You’ve simply got to stop and check out your mug!”

Kevin braked hard. He was trembling head to toe. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m all right.”

“Are you sure? You look terrible.”

“I’m fine. Fine.” They were in the residential section of Seaside, on a homey sparkler-lit avenue. “Your friend’s house,” he managed. “How--how far?”

“We’re almost there. It’s on the next block. Look, are you positive you’re all right? If Jamie’s home he’ll give you a ride to the hospital.”

Kevin closed his eyes. “Jamie?” he muttered.

He shook his head. The side-to-side movement faltered, became a broadening elliptical progression, and then Kevin was nodding: he’d been right all along. He’d outlived his usefulness. Jamie? He blew out his cheeks. F*****g Jamie? “No,” he whispered. “No, I’m okay.”

“Whew! You had me worried there. I thought you were going to pull another of those stupid numbers like the other--look, there’s Jamie’s house now! The one with the eucalyptus trees in the front. You can see the porch light.”

“Far out,” Kevin muttered.

When they reached the house he knew it was over. In the back of his mind he’d been praying that any tenants would not be home, giving him a chance to convince the girl to go elsewhere, if only temporarily. But light was filtering through psychedelic posters on the windows. Electric music could be heard. He stood on the walk while Janet rang the doorbell.

A soft yellow haze illuminated her as the porch bulb came to life. The door was opened and a pleasant looking young man of twenty peered out.

His light brown hair was cut like the young Prince Valiant’s, although longer and fuller, and there was also something of the Hal Foster character’s noble bearing and poise about him. He reminded Kevin of somebody else. His eyes were very clear and bright, his figure slim and full of grace. He was dressed casually: Levis and a brown rayon shirt open at the neck, tan hush puppies.

“Jannie!” he cried, embracing her exuberantly, gently rocking her by swiveling his pelvis. “Sweetheart, how’ve you been! Why didn’t you let us know you were coming? It’s been ages.”

“Oh, Jamie, I missed you so! I was so afraid you wouldn’t be home.”

On the walk, forgotten, Kevin was wondering who to kill first. As his body coiled and his fingers flexed, a profound sense of alienation transformed the powerful compression of his frame to a cringe. And while he watched their identical shut-eyed expressions during the embrace that went on and on, his mind, curiously, decided to take a stroll; remarking, quite transiently, that one of the window posters was similar to a poster on his own wall in his room at home, or what used to be home; that his bicycle was holding up to the journey well; that San Francisco, according to Eddie, was Spanish for Saint Francis. Just compulsive thinking, the sort any healthy mind resorts to at point of surrender. But then he thought, Why doesn’t he just throw her down and ball her on the spot, for Christ’s sake. What’s he waiting for? He was close to vocalizing his thoughts when the two pulled apart, allowing light from the front room to wash over him. His eyes glinted.

Jamie said, “Oh.”

Janet turned. After echoing Jamie, she said, “Excuse me. Jamie, this is Kevin Michaels, a very good friend I met way down the coast. He’s on his way up to San Francisco, and he was thoughtful enough to escort me up here and make sure I didn’t have too much fun.”

Jamie grinned. “Hi!” He offered his hand, expecting the boy to approach, but Kevin remained hunched and stationary, glaring. “Well!” Jamie said. “Why don’t you two come on in and make yourselves at home.” He turned and, with another friendly grin, strode inside.

Janet returned Kevin’s stare for a silent half-minute, her arms folded across her chest. “Well?”

Kevin’s jaw worked spastically. “I--I…I’ve got something to say, Janet.”

“Well?”

What he had in mind was something along the lines of: Listen, you skinny f*****g b***h, you may not know it, but I’m a human being with feelings too. And I’ve done everything to prove my love, but you’re so self-centered it was all like totally in vain. So this is the big goodbye, honey. I’ve been hurt, but I’ll heal, so save your sobs for the next sucker. I’m not saying it wasn’t fun, or that you ain’t cute, but there’s a whole buncha other funky fish in this stupid-a*s sea, etc. What came out belied his thoughts.

“Oh Janet, I’m so sorry for all the trouble I’ve been. For real. I know you’re sick of hearing me say I’m sorry, and I know what you must think of me. It’s hard to admit this, Janet, but…I can’t let go. Oh please don’t leave me alone now.”

“Jesus, when are you ever gonna grow up! Didn’t you just hear Jamie invite you in?” She turned on her heel and skipped inside, her aloof and disgusted expression changing in the wink of an eye to one of brainless gaiety.

Kevin looked around uncertainly. “S**t,” he whispered. He walked his bike to the porch, passed the lock and chain through the rear spokes. Inspired, he stood Janet’s bike against his and locked them together to the porch railing. Kevin regarded his Peugeot an extension of his body; to tamper with it was to pinch a nerve and bring him running. He almost felt he had a say in the situation.

He stopped just inside the door, flabbergasted.

Against the far wall were three totally naked persons perched on cushions in the lotus position, palms turned up on knees, eyes closed.

They appeared to be in trances, entirely unaffected by the hard driving psychedelic music pulsating from flanking stereo speakers. The two males, one old and one young, were both gaunt and starved-looking. The girl sitting between them was a chubby, unclean thing of twenty. What shocked Kevin was not the nakedness of the girl. It was seeing naked men in front of Janet--he wanted to cover her eyes…and for reasons best left interred, his own. Maybe he just wasn’t cut out to be a revolutionary after all. What was going on here was, thenadays, perfectly acceptable conduct. The black light, the enormous ceramic water pipe, the musky scent of incense in every corner--these were all standard stimuli. But he couldn’t overlook the nudity. No doubt about it, this Jamie guy had to be one righteously sick dude.

Janet was seated right next to him, on a low crushed velvet davenport, her tapering legs curled up comfortably, her slender feet bare. Just in front of the couch, on a glass-topped driftwood coffee table, were several glasses, a bowl of ice, a quart of Pepsi, and a fifth of Cream of Kentucky bourbon. Kevin stood by the door, his mouth shoveling warm air and incense fumes, watching Janet’s and Jamie’s teeth gleam surrealistically in the black light’s glow. He felt such a minor part…he was sure what looked like an orgy in the making could proceed without paying him the least mind. When at last the record was over, and only Janet’s musical laughter and the hiss of the stylus broke the silence, Jamie looked up and waved.

“Well don’t just stand there, man. Have a seat!”

Kevin mumbled something and shuffled over. He sat down heavily. The impact of his body would ordinarily have merely rocked Janet in his direction, but Jamie picked that precise moment to get up to change the album, telling the boy to go ahead and fix himself a drink. As a result Janet rocked heavily against Kevin, and, recovering her balance, laid a small hand gently on the sensitive pudding of his inner thigh. Her giggles were like bubbles popping melodiously against his eardrum, as she breathed essence of cola and bourbon in his face, and whispered:

“Well, pour yourself a drink, silly. You don’t have to look so grumpy and uncomfortable. We’re all friends. Just make yourself at home; take off your shoes…relax. While you’ve been standing around acting too cool for the room I’ve been telling Jamie all about what a hero you’ve been; how you fixed my flat and stood up for me against those big men when we almost had breakfast. That really scored some points with Jamie. He thinks you must be a super high dude to be so inventive and brave. He digs people who have confidence, so don’t act so stiff and paranoid. Just sit back and make yourself at home. Take off your shoes and get comfy. Relax. Have a drink, why don’t you? Why are you so quiet?”

Kevin grunted. He was keenly aware of a juxtaposition of past and present; how this event so strongly paralleled the time at Perky’s house when the raven-haired girl had perched so near and likewise placed a hand on his thigh. A chill raced up his back, and with horror he felt his lips leak the words,

“He your boyfriend?”

“Who? Jamie? He’s my cousin, but he’s like a brother to me. He stays out here with Rod every summer. We used to live only a couple of miles from here; me and Jamie and my family.”

“Rod?”

“That older man sitting over there tripping. He’s heavily into the Consciousness Movement. He doesn’t need acid or anything. Jamie told me that Rod and Linda and Holland--the other couple there--said the Om exercise this afternoon and have been grooving on inner space all day long. Isn’t that heavy?” She leaned against him.

Kevin kept his big mouth shut. The nudity and Janet’s on-again off-again behavior were related in some way, held some special message for him, but right now he didn’t know if he was coming or going. Only minutes ago he’d been begging her to come back, and now he was praying she’d move away. Her slim brown hand was alarmingly close to his crotch, and she didn’t seem to be worried about Jamie noticing. Or was Jamie part of the plot? Plus, just to aggravate his confusion, Janet’s hand, unlike the ivory fingers of the raven-haired girl, was eliciting no response from his body. Kevin looked away.

The chubby girl was the first female (besides his squat and shapeless mother, and not counting photographed models) he’d ever seen naked. But unlike those nudes Kevin had goggled in adult magazines, this Linda person sagged at every curve. Her skin was the hue of raw potato meat, scored with pimples and brown bruises. Her breasts were collapsed with the slump of her heavy shoulders, and her crotch, that secret land, seemed a foul place, all smelly and kink-wired and clammy and unclean. The huge lumps of her feet were gateposts, their nails chipped and unpainted. And, horror of horrors, her legs and armpits were unshaven, sporting a dark curly growth like that of the Laurel Canyon girls.

Janet kneaded his thigh. “Re-lax, will you?”

“I’m not uptight,” Kevin mumbled, perspiring. “Who said I was uptight? It’s just that…well, you’re not bugged by seeing these guys all bare-a*s naked? I mean, it doesn’t bother me, of course. After all, I have to take showers at school, don’t I? And seeing a chick in the buff is nothing new--like, I’m no prude or anything. Don’t get that idea. I just thought you might be offended, or embarrassed, by having to look at these guys.”

She laughed. “Is li’l Kevin afwaid Janet might see the boys’ nasty ol’ pee-pees? Oh, you are a child. We used to sit around here naked all the time. There’s no hangups. It’s the Summer of Love, remember? Have a drink!” She drained her glass and leaned forward to mix him one as Jamie rejoined them on the couch.

“Janet was telling me what a good job you did of taking care of her on the road, and I’d like to say I really appreciate it, man. The whole world’s turning on to love, but there’s still some nasty little pockets of uncool out there.”

As Kevin drank down the sweet mixed beverage he peeked over the rim of his glass and for the first time noticed subtle similarities in the cousins. There was a rare frankness in the eyes when either smiled, and the same silky tone to their complexions.

“Really!” Janet said. “You never know who or what you’re going to meet on the road. It’s a terrible place to be alone. Oh! Did I tell you?” She turned back to Kevin. “Jamie says that Marcie and Paula were here yesterday, and took off on their bikes again. They went up to Golden Gate Park to catch the concert. I’m going too, if only to give those girls a piece of my mind for ditching me like that.” Her eyes sparkled. “So it looks like I’ll be needing an escort.” She sipped half her second drink while watching him over the rim of her glass, in a manner that struck Kevin as sultry.

He stared back until his eyes were burning. Fate or Karma or Providence or Whatever had granted him a reprieve. He masked his emotion by draining his glass and leaning forward to pour another. The liquor warmed him and he laughed. And somehow they were all holding hands and singing along as Roger Daltrey artfully stuttered and snarled through My Generation. The moment for Kevin was powerful and magical, containing the long-craved elements of friendship and family. He laughed again, loudly, and killed his second drink.

“This is it,” Jamie said contentedly. “This is our house, our world, our future. God damn it, this is our generation, the dawning of a new world devoted to love and peace and the reformation of a power-hungry society! Just think: in a matter of only a few years, maybe, every lonely or needy person will be united as we are now, holding hands and sharing a common soul, and that soul, that single soul I tell you, will be nothing less than the communal substantiation of God Almighty Himself!”

“Oh, Jamie,” Janet cooed, “you have such lovely thoughts in your head.”

“I’m hip,” Kevin said, and promptly knocked over his third drink. He bent forward to clean the mess.

“No, leave it!” Jamie said. “F**k it, man, what’s that rug anyway. Just the plastic, dyed, prefabricated product of a technology bending over backward to conceal nature with crud. Soon, soon enough, the only carpet we’ll see will be the real green of sweet grass itself, and our homes will be tepees, and we’ll s**t in the woods like bears, the way man is supposed to live! To hell with technology and the atom bomb! Man, that’s regression. This generation is sick of the stagnant past and the slippery present. Progress! God damn it, we’ll show ’em progress!”

Janet hiccoughed. Jamie poured her another drink. She sipped it, sighed, and draped an arm around Kevin and an arm around Jamie, letting her head rest against Kevin’s shoulder. She yawned and hiccoughed twice more.

“Hooray for the Revolution!” Kevin blurted, in seventh heaven and more than a little tight. He pulled out his baggie of grass and his rolling papers. “Roll us up some joints, brother Jamie. And make ’em bombers!”

“Right on!”

“I’m so sleepy,” Janet mumbled, hiccoughing. “I’m so tired.”

Jamie rolled and fired up a monstrous doobie. Janet abstained, and by the time the two had finished smoking she was snoring softly on Kevin’s shoulder.

“Look,” Jamie said, “I’m late for this Fourth of July bash over at my partner’s pad. And after the party I’m gonna see about scoring some hash oil. I’m talking quantity here. This kind of deal always takes all night, so you guys can crash in the room I’m using. Is that cool with you?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Feel free to use the pad any way you want. And don’t worry about Rod and these people. I’ve seen them on this trip before. They won’t come out of it till sunup.”

“Right.”

Jamie rose and offered his hand. “Well, it was cool meeting you, Alvin.”

“Same to you, Jimmy.”

“I’ll catch you in the morning.” Jamie winked man-to-man. “Take good care of my cousin.”

Kevin shook hands tipsily but warmly. “Yeah, be cool, man. Take it easy.” Jamie removed his hand with difficulty. Kevin’s arm dropped lifelessly to his side. Jamie opened the door.

“Later on, then.”

“Keep high, man.”

“All right. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

“Easy on.”

“Catch ya later.” Jamie stepped out.

“Take it easy!” Kevin shouted at the door. “Have a good one!” The house was now quiet, except for the hiss ca-chuck, hiss ca-chuck of the needle at record’s end. Kevin listened to the sound for a few minutes, half-conscious. Finally he got to his feet and staggered across the room. As he was bending to pick the arm off the record he checked himself. He’d been here before. He took a deep breath and, with the utmost care, lifted the arm at its tip with his thumb. He had it halfway back when it slipped off and tore across the disk. He picked it up hastily, dropped it again. After dropping it twice more he came to his senses and switched off the set. As the turntable slowed, the rasping sound wound down with a noise like a fading air raid siren. He straightened and blinked. The paralleling of past and present again. Déjà vu. Perky’s house…he’d knocked on the door, almost a week ago, and the music had--

Janet groaned. Kevin turned and walked over unsteadily, roughly shook her shoulder.

She half-opened her eyes. “Whachoo want?”

“Jamie split. He says you crash his bed. I sleep here…couch.”

She yawned, stretched, and held out her arms, hiccoughing. Kevin hauled her to her feet and waltzed her into the bedroom, apologizing extensively when his hands unintentionally gripped her posterior in the awkward shambling embrace. As soon as they’d lurched into the room she kicked shut the door and pulled him down on the mattress. As he tried to rise she held tightly. “When first met you,” she hiccoughed, “didn’t realize what animal you were.”

“Said I was sorry.”

“Help me with my clothes.” She sat up, belched daintily, and pulled off her pretty new blouse.

Kevin swallowed and turned his head, sobering considerably. He squeezed shut his eyes, as if to obliterate the second’s impression of her jiggling breasts. The girl wore no bra--her torso proud, slim, tanned. The n*****s were smallish, dark and coarse. He suddenly wanted out of there fast.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Janet said. “You’re not embarrassed, are you?”

“Of course not. What makes you think I’m embarrassed?”

She reached to unbutton his reeking shirt.

“Because I’m not embarrassed. Why should I be? Cause what’s there to be embarrassed about?”

“Of course you’re not, darling,” she peeled off his shirt. Kevin steeled himself for her laughter. When she didn’t laugh he only trembled harder.

“I’m not embarrassed, really. I feel fine, fine.”

“Look at me.” Softly commanding.

He turned his head slowly, forcing himself to look at her face and not at her taunting breasts. Her eyes were unbearably direct. Kevin quailed; his own eyes slunk away. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He willed his gopher to become engorged with blood, to manfully get the job done. But there was no response. None at all.

“Your shoes;” Janet said, “take off your shoes. You don’t sleep in your shoes, do you?”

Kevin slowly bent to unlace his boots, his fingers numb chubby sausages. It wasn’t fair. There just had to be some kind of credible, wholly acceptable excuse a guy could use under these circumstances to justify an immediate and unavoidable exit. Or at least a damned good reason for not performing. But young men in Kevin’s position are expected to be blessing their stars and horny as all get-out, not trying to dodge the culmination of all their wet little fantasies. Maybe, Kevin thought desperately, maybe she would fall for a last-minute stance of chivalry if he could pull it off convincingly enough. He could say the time wasn’t ripe, that he respected her too much to engage in carnal shenanigans without a longer, deeper relationship. But that was copping out. And real men don’t cop out. He just wanted to make a lasting impression. Yet, according to everything he’d picked up from locker room banter and from pornography, the only thing that would impress her was a great throbbing purple erection--an organ so rigid and immense she would be swept to multiple orgasms on sight.

Finally he’d fumbled off his boots and socks. As he sat he felt the bed rock.

Janet was standing in front of him, a hand on his shoulder, gracefully wiggling free of her cutoff jeans and soft blue panties. He closed his eyes, his mouth dry. The pressure in his bowels intensified. In his mind he tore through the girlie books and smutty souvenirs of his old bedroom cache. He visualized massive pendulous breasts, great beseeching buttocks, pouting red lips, long silky legs…all to no avail.

“Lay back,” Janet ordered, whispering huskily in his ear. He hesitated, obeying with a whimper. But when he felt her hands at his fly he bounded to his feet.

“I’ll take care of that,” Kevin said. And…she was still standing in front of him, a knee against his, cupping her breasts with her hands and pouting sensuously. Feeling sick, he turned and fumbled with the snap and zipper of his Levis.

Janet reclined on the bed.

C’mon, c’mon, he thought feverishly. Get up, grow big and fat! Just this once, c’mon! He dropped his pants and stepped free, felt Janet’s warm hand on the back of his thigh, steadying him. C’mon, you f****r! Come ON! Grow! Grow! Kevin’s mind began to wander, remarking how filthy his underwear was, how badly he needed a shower. He whipped down his shorts and surveyed the crucial area. Nada. He’d might as well have just stepped from freezing water. Kevin sat in a crook, ashamed, his traitorous member covered with fat trembling hands.

Janet’s arms encircled his neck. He winced.

“Look at me, darling Kevin. Look at me, my sweet, sweet lover.”

He looked at her, almost in tears. She just had to be the loveliest piece he’d ever seen, a thing sleek and brown and luscious, curving in all the right places. Why then did he want only to cover this tanned gazelle? She placed her hands on his plump pecs and squeezed and caressed. Tremors shot through him at her touch. She leaned forward and, incredibly, began to suck on his left n****e. But, instead of rising to the occasion, his hapless tool only shriveled further. At last she pulled away.

“Now you,” she commanded, a teacher demonstrating for a retarded pupil. She pried his hands from his lap and clamped them on her breasts, dropping back her head and moaning as she maneuvered them roughly. She pulled them down to her waist and, with another moan, looked hard at the place where Kevin’s prong was supposed to be.

Dropping his head, Kevin was mortified to find he was weeping softly.

“Shh, shhhh,” she soothed, slowly passing a hand down to his scrotum and gently squeezing his cringing jewels. He caught his breath mid-groan, let his head fall against a breast. She began squeezing harder, almost to the point of pain, until the miracle occurred. Kevin’s shrunken member poked its head out sleepily, understood, and quickly firmed in her hand.

“There, there,” Janet crooned. “That’s it, baby. Oh, darling Kevin, oh come on sweetheart.”

Kevin ground his teeth. His mind went fuzzy. His machine drew sensation as a bellows draws air, became a vital, demanding, powerful entity. He gasped as she started stroking it. His hands went to her breasts and she pulled him down on top.

“Yes,” she hissed as he fondled and tweaked her n*****s, “Yes, that’s it! That’s it, darling!”

Sweating, grunting like a pig, Kevin mounted and began thrusting away. His aim was wide, but she slid down a hand and eased him in. There was the briefest sensation of dampness.

After a moment he remembered who and where he was. Kevin slid off with a smacking sound as their sweaty bellies pulled apart.

He lay trembling anew, his heart hammering, hearing her fingertips drumming on the sheet. She turned to face him, hiccoughed.

“You were wonderful,” she lied slinkily, a woman at heart. “That was pure heaven.” She kissed his forehead.

Kevin tentatively placed a hand on her hip, drawing current and encouragement. He was her puppy now, her grateful fool. His arm moved to girdle her waist.

“No,” she said.

Not “not now.”

No.

She turned away from him, and from the sound of her breathing was instantly asleep.