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 The following story is non-fiction (real life).  The author reserves all
rights conveyed by The Berne Convention.  No one shall redistribute this
story without the author's permission.  No one shall profit by
redistributing this story.

   The Woes of Loving Wendy Chapter 2 By Happy



   (Author's note: I find that non-fiction is very difficult for me.  I
spend most of my time searching my memory for accurate facts.  After this
chapter, I will return to writing fiction.)

   I left the Drawing class in 'The Arts' building at a brisk pace.  It was
2:45pm.  Wendy was going to meet me at my dorm room just before the 3
o'clock game time.  I needed to change into shorts and better athletic
shoes.
My jeans were off and I was just about to step into my shorts when there

was a light rap at the door.  I squinted through the peep hole It was
Wendy. It was embarrassing for me as I opened the door and backed away so
that she could enter.

   She looked at me in my underwear and then at the shorts in my hand.  I
closed the door.

   Wendy leaned into me and gave me a passionate kiss.  As our lips parted,
she cupped my manhood from the underside through my underwear and lifted it
up just enough to take the effects of gravity off of it.  "Don't you need
an athletic supporter?", she asked in a husky voice with a with a wink of
her right eye.

   "It appears that I just got one", I replied as I swallowed hard.

   She let me go and I finished dressing.

   I then went on to describe 'concrete beach' and the clique so that Wendy
would know what she was getting involved in.  My dorm is long and
rectangular in shape.  The ground floor is half embedded into the soil and
houses common areas and rooms for utilities.  Above the ground floor are
three stories of dorm rooms and shared student bath rooms.  One end of the
long rectangle on each floor is for males and the other end is for the
gender they most like to watch.

   Adjacent to one long side of the dorm is a large wide open lawn except
for one feature.  'Concrete beach' is a smooth 36 foot by 36 foot pad that
starts from the middle of that long edge of the building and extends into
the open lawn area.  The surface of it stands 10 inches above grass level.

   On my first day of orientation week, I had looked down at 'concrete
beach' from my dorm room window and thought, 'What a waste of money'. 
Peter saw me looking at it and filled me in.

   "Because of the angle of the sun during months with nice weather", he
began, "The morning dew on the lawn doesn't dry until at least noon time.
In the afternoon, the ants and other creepy things come out.  The pretty
girls from our building have learned to spread their towels on 'concrete
beach' and lay there to sunbathe.  I have seniority in picking rooms now.
What do you think of my choice?"

   As I continued to look down from our window, two dark haired beauties
appeared.  They were both wearing tiny bikinis and had towels draped over
one forearm.  "I can't think of a better decision", I answered.  Then I
thought to myself, 'Now it makes sense why the boys choose this lawn to
display their athletic skills.  They had a very beautiful audience to
attract'.  I related all of this to Wendy.

   Next was a warning to her about the clique.  It was easy to tell her
about the boys.  But, I slowed down after that.  There was a high
population at the girl's end of my floor that were from the same cluster of
towns as the boys.  They were part of the clique.

   I learned about the girls the hard way.  My only mistake was saying,
"hi", to some of them while passing in a stairwell or a common area.  None
of them would make eye contact or acknowledge my existence.  They were
gorgeous, but at the same time acted like ice queens.

   With all of that said, I asked Wendy if she was okay with being amongst
them on 'concrete beach'.  She looked back at me and her eyes sparkled as
she reached the bottom edge tank top and peeled it off of herself.

   The tiniest triangles of a bikini top were revealed to me.  There was no
room for error in keeping this top adjusted for coverage.  She threw her
tank top on my bed, arched her back as the tiny top strained to stay
intact, and said, "Let's go".

   I have learned in a very short time that when Wendy's eyes sparkle,
something remarkable is about to happen.  After opening the door of my
closet, I grabbed my best beach towel and handed it to her.  Then I opened
a dresser drawer and grabbed a balled up pair of white athletic socks to
use as 'flags'.

   We arrived just in time.  The boys were about to pick teams 'school yard
style' (alternately picking one and then the other based on a coin flip).
Most of the boys were from my dorm, but Peter had warned me that sometimes
a 'ringer' was invited.  I noticed who this was right away.

   Someone was drawing side lines and end zones on the lawn with large bags
of flour.  I recognized him from the university newsletter.  He was the
starting running back for the university's football team.  The newsletter
said that he was a "legendary recruiting accomplishment" by the coach.

   I looked over at 'concrete beach' to see how Wendy was doing.  She was
spreading my towel in the only open spot on the outer edge of the pad.  It
was in between what I believed to be two of the strongest willed members of
the female clique.  One was blond.  The other was dark haired.

   As Wendy finished smoothing out the wrinkles in the towel, the blond
said very loudly, "Hey, we are saving that spot for our friend".

   Very nonchalantly, Wendy replied as she stood, "Your supposed friend is
too late.  I need this spot to watch my guy.  I can be your new
friend..........or not.  It doesn't matter to me", she announced as she
towered over them with her hands on her hips

   After a few moments, there was no answer from the clique.  So Wendy laid
down on her front.  She propped herself up on her elbows so she could watch
what was happening near me.  I smiled at her.  She saw me and her eyes
sparkled again as she proudly grinned.  I knew right then that this was
going to remain an interesting day.

   Dan was one of the stronger personalities in the male clique.  He
announced that he would be the captain of one team and (the running back)
would be captain of the other team.  Michael approached with a large coin
balanced on his thumb.  He looked at Dan and said, "Call it".  The coin
flew in the air.

   "Heads", was Dan's response.

   It was 'tails'.  The running back said, "We'll receive, we will be
shirts, and my first pick is this guy", as he pointed at Michael.  The team
picks kept alternating back and forth until the last two.  I was one of
them.  The running back picked me, so Dan had to accept the short skinny
kid.  He and his team removed their shirts to become the 'skins' team

   American football rules usually allow only 11 players per side.  We had
15 each and everyone was playing.  We were on a lawn half the size of a
regulation field.  It was going to be a very busy place.  I had thought
this out.

   I noticed that my teammates and their opponents had their socks
('flags') stuffed deeply into their waistband or back pockets.  This must
have made them think that removing a flag would be more difficult to end a
'play'.

   I toyed with the idea of the opposite strategy.  I adjusted my socks so
they were just barely hanging into my back pockets.  With the right
movement, I thought that if I could make them 'dance', they would be harder
to grab a hold of in the first place.

   We all lined up for 'the kick off'.  Ironically, there was no kicking of
the ball involved in this version of the game.  The 'kick off' was thrown
by Dan.  I had positioned myself on one side of the back edge of our end
zone.  I was trying to just stay out of the way.

   But Dan's eyes were focused on me.  The ball sailed over everybody's
reach and came right to my chest.  I had no choice but to catch it or risk
a fumble in our end zone.

   After collecting the ball, I instinctively invented a 'spin move' to
keep my flags out of reach of my closest competitors.  I even offered the
ball to a couple of them to distract their concentration on my 'flags'. 
Against heavy odds, I made it to mid field before one of the swarm of
opponents got hold of one of my socks and threw it down on the ground at
the spot it was taken.

   I was out of breath as I loosely tucked my sock back in It's rear pocket
and joined the huddle.

   'The running back' pointed at me and said loudly, "This man shows me
something.  He's our running back.  Stack left away from the concrete.  On
'two'", and he clapped.  'Did I just hear correctly?', I thought to myself.
The running back has given me his preferred position?'.

   I went with it.  The only two touchdowns of the game were mine with the
'running back' handing the ball to me.  Michael called the game to be
'over' when an hour had passed on his watch.  As people started to disband
and move off, Wendy approached me .

   She dabbed the sweat off of my face and neck with the beach towel and
dragged me by the hand back to the spot that she was laying in.  The two
girls that had laid along side of her were still there.

   Wendy called out loudly to them and their neighbors holding my hand in
the air, "Ladies, this is what a real man looks like.  He has the total
package.  We're going upstairs so we can clean up.  I'll leave the rest to
your imaginations.  Good luck with your clique".  And she quietly led me
away.

   Wendy began removing clothing as soon I closed my dorm room door.  She
quietly started with hers until she was nude and then removed all of mine.
I didn't know exactly what Wendy intended as she reached into the front
pocket of my shorts and handed me my dorm room key.  But the second clue
enlightened me when she slid open my closet door and grabbed two bath
towels.

   "Let's go", She said as she handed me a towel and opened the door.  She
stepped out into the hallway and made a turn towards the boy's shower room
just holding her towel in her hand.

   "Naked?", I asked loudly.

   Wendy stopped and turned around.  She looked down at my crotch and then
back up to my face as she said, "Why not?  You don't have anything to be
ashamed of".  How can a man argue with that logic?  I grabbed a bottle of
shampoo, closed the door behind me and followed her.

   As I walked, I could hear female conversation from 80 yards away behind
me at the girl's end of the hallway.  There was no way that I was going to
turn around to see who it was.  I could hear chatter from behind every
closed door that we passed by on the boy's side.  They were 'all' here.

   There were six shower stalls, each with a curtain for some privacy. 
Wendy chose the first one closest to the door.  If anymore boys came in to
shower, they would have to pass by Wendy and I to find an empty stall.

   Wendy started the water and hung her towel on a nearby hook.  I hung my
towel over hers.  When the temperature was right, she stepped in.  I
followed and set my key and the shampoo on the waist-level ledge.

   I gently closed the curtain as Wendy was getting her hair wet in the
shower spray with her eyes clamped shut.  When Wendy heard the curtain
move, she came out of the spray enough to open her eyes.  She kissed me and
simultaneously opened the curtain a little more than halfway.

   As she broke the kiss, she said,"They'll be coming to shower soon. 
Leave the curtain open.  I want them to suffer a little, while looking at
what they can't have".  She grabbed a hold of my most sensitive area below
my waist.  When we get back to your bed, this is mine as she gently shook
me in her hand".

   We finished showering, but no one else entered before we left.  I was
erect from a few moments after she grabbed a hold on me.  When we returned
to my room......  well let's just say that she is an excellent cowgirl. 
She knows how to ride.

   Flash forward a few months.  It was now early December.  It is cold
outside.  So, we have retreated to indoor activities and entertainment.  It
happened to be Friday night.  Wendy's roommate went home every other
weekend.  This weekend was one of them.

   Wendy and I cuddled together while enjoying 'Moonlighting', starring
Bruce Willis and Crystal Shepard.  Our clothes were on the floor next to
the bed.

   A few hours after the show was over, there was a rough knock on the
door. Wendy flinched this time.  I couldn't because I was still waiting to
exhale the breath that my body just took.  It was 1am.

   "Who is it?", she called out.

   "Neil", came the answer with a deep voice from other side of the door.

   Wendy awkwardly said, "I'll be right there'.

   'Where do I hide?", I asked her in a whispered voice.  We were on the
sixth floor of a ten story building.  Options were very limited

   "Don't hide", she said as she pulled her t-shirt over her head and down.
Get dressed.  I'm going to take him for a walk.  Get ready to leave".

   I did as she instructed and was standing in front of her bed, fully
dressed, when she opened the door.  When Neil looked over Wendy's shoulder
at me, he started to make a charge towards me.  Wendy braced one foot on
the doorway and used all of her physical strength to prevent him from
entering.

   She reached up and grasped his jaw and yanked it to meet her eyes. 
"He's okay.  Let me explain".  Wendy then gently led him down the octagonal
shaped hallway.

   If Neil and I had gotten into a physical fight there would have been a
lot of damage on both sides.  We were similar in height and weight.  A
cooler head prevailed and her name was Wendy.

   I moved to the door and when they were out of sight around the first
corner.  I made my way silently to the stairwell and was gone.

   I never saw her or talked her again.  She withdrew from the university
from home the following Monday.  I was heartbroken.  She had chosen Neil

   At the same time, I realized that Wendy had returned my favor.  She had
rescued me from the confrontation with Neil.  I felt a little solace but I
needed more.  I knew who I wanted advise from.  I left my dorm room.



   When I turned the second corner of the boy's end of the floor, I could
hear Mick Jagger singing.  Michael was known as a creature of habit.  He
read his textbooks from one end to the other during the summer months. 
(photographic memory?, I don't know).

   His roommate shared with me that Michael never studied during the fall.
Everyone on the floor was aware of when Michael had an impending test.  He
would play the 'Rolling Stones Hot Rocks' double album set at maximum
volume and then go ace the test.  The celebration was always a different
situation.  Michael's roommate never complained.  Michael never came home
with less than two girls.

   I banged on Michael's door.  The music got turned down in a moment,
Michael opened the door wearing dark sunglasses in a dim room.

   "Hi Happy, what's up?", he greeted.



   I looked at him seriously and said, "I've lost Wendy and its crushing my
heart"

   Michael was known for speaking in metaphor using song titles and lyrics.
He is a genius.  It equally intrigues me and scares me as to what his
responsibilities are today.  He quoted Tom Petty when he said.  "You don't
have to live like a refugee"

   I remembered the lyrics from that song.  Michael was trying to give me a
message.  I needed to pick myself up and dust myself off and move forward.

   Through his dark sunglasses, Michael saw the message was was received in
my eyes.  He closed the door softly and then volume of Mick Jagger's voice
was again at maximum volume.