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Subject: {ASS} Find a Penny 1 by J Boswell
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Find a Penny... (Reminiscing) (c)
Part 1
by J BOSWELL
WARNING: This work of fiction is intended to be read by adults
only. The author requests that you exercise discretion
in posting it. Also, this is a fantasy -- in real
life, please protect your lover and yourself by
practicing safe sex.
Part One of a continuing story
Chapter 1
******* *
It's early 1994 and they're selling tickets for a "Woodstock
Plus 25 Years" concert! How depressing! Why bother -- you can't
go back. They should have let it go with that brilliant cola
commercial about the twenty-five-year Woodstock reunion, with the
valet parking and the bald babyboomers. But, on one dazzling
Saturday afternoon, looking out over the beach and ocean, nursing
my Sam Adams, listening to an ad for tickets, it sure brought
back the memories...
It was the Sixties, man.
The radio was playing Otis Redding and Motown, James Brown
and Simon and Garfunkel, The Beatles, the Stones, the Who, and
Buffalo Springfield -- and it's never sounded as good since. You
had to be 21 to vote or legally drink, but at 18 they wanted to
draft your ass off to Viet Nam. Things were changing. Maybe we
didn't see it, or want to see it, and maybe I was still wearing
button-down shirts, but all hell was about to break loose.
I was 18 and a smart-assed freshman at an all-male, Catholic
college in a big Eastern city and full of myself. Life was
simple and fun, and I had it by the balls and knew it.
A bunch of us were day-hopping (commuting) to school and had
been together since then nuns abused us in Grade school. Our
college, being small and conservative and Catholic put us a few
years behind what was going on in the Ivy League and at the
California universities. We were aware of the issues -- the war
(BAD!), Civil Rights (Good!), Improving the Environment (Very
good!) -- but we didn't lend much more than our moral support.
Our personal issues were still getting drunk and getting laid --
in either order, and preferably at the same time.
There were a few tightly-knit groups of hairy, strangely-
dressed guys beginning to appear on campus, talking about peace,
pollution and politics, and smoking some "tea;" but our group was
still into the clean-shaven, button-down oxfords, khakis, and
beefroll loafers look, talking about broads, beer, basketball and
booze. We were oh-so-cool (or so we thought).
I lived at home, but, to tell you the truth, I don't
remember seeing much of my family during those years. I played
football and basketball in high school, but wasn't good enough
for a scholarship, so four afternoons a week, I went straight
from school to work (and I worked all day on Saturdays). Then on
the weekends I went OUT -- coming home, usually drunk -- long
after everyone else was asleep. I had a car, a job, a college
loan, and money in my pockets. As I said, life was good.
* * * * * * * * * * *
It was early April and a bunch of us were sitting around a
table in the cafeteria, bullshitting about everything from
teachers to cars to girls. When it was time for the next class,
everyone left but Mike O'Donnel and me.
"Jake, you goin' to Vince's party?"
Vince Capreto was an old high school friend. He was a year
behind us because his father pulled him out of our Catholic high
school and put him in a ritzy Prep school, hoping Vince would get
into an Ivy League college. All Vince wanted to get into was a
bottle of Scotch and a girl's panties. But he was the youngest
in a big family, so we could drink and dance the night away in
his basement; and, as long as we didn't set the house on fire,
his parents were cool about it -- they said they had seen it all
with Vince's older brothers and sisters.
"Sure, I'm going. You?"
"Yeah, sure. Who you bringing?"
I had to think about that. Not dating anybody steady at the
moment, there were a few girls I wanted to ask out. "Don't know,
yet. You bringing Terri?" Mike had been dating Terri Allen
since they had met at a Christmas dance. She was 17 and only a
junior in a local public high school, but good-looking enough you
didn't care.
"Of course. Hey, if you haven't asked anybody, yet, Terri
has a friend."
"Oww, you set me up! I don't need a blind date, Mike.
[pregnant pause] What's she look like?"
"I don't know. Haven't met her, yet, but Terri says she's
real cute."
"Ha, cute! She have a `nice personality,' too?"
Mike laughed. "No, Terri said she has a GREAT personality!"
"Oh, boy! Even worse. Now I know we're talking about a
fuckin' Alpo-eater!"
"No, really, Jake, I wouldn't shit you. And I don't think
Terri would shit me. Terri said that her friend wants to meet a
college guy, real bad."
"Real bad, eh? She fuck?"
"If I knew that the answer to that question was `yes,' I'd
be dating her myself, Jake!"
"Even if she was an Alpo-eater!"
"Yeah, even if she was. How about it? Do this favor for
me? Terri asked me to set her friend up with a nice guy."
"Nice guy! Not a hung stud? She go to school with Terri?"
"Yep."
"Okay, Mike, I'll do it but I hope Annette isn't at the
party." Annette Parker was a girl that was on the periphery of
our circle of friends. She always had a sharp, fast tongue and
was very quick with the put-downs, but I thought she had a nice
face and body and was very sexy, and I had been working up the
courage to risk the public humiliation by the crowd and ask her
out.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Since he set up the double-date, Mike had driver's-duty and
he picked me up in his father's car on Saturday night. It was a
big four-door Dodge and had a great backseat. It was a warm
night and we drove to Terri's house with the windows down and a
Sam and Dave 8-track tape blaring from the dual speakers.
After we knocked on the door, Terri's mother led us into the
livingroom to wait for the girls. Standing there in our ties and
sweaters (remember, this was still the mid-Sixties!), I could
feel the approval oozing out of Terri's parents as they asked us
about college.
Finally, we heard the girls coming down the steps.
Both girls were dressed in short (but not mini, yet) skirts,
with matching jackets and smooth, white pullovers under the
jackets. I knew Terri, so I got my first look at my blind date.
I saw right away that she had great legs and a terrific set
of juggs. She was fairly tall, not all that much shorter than my
5'11" -- maybe 5'7" or so. As my eyes roamed upwards, I saw she
was cute, not beautiful. A very cute girl. She had short brown
hair and large blue eyes. She was wearing make-up and her lips
looked great with the red lipstick on them. She looked young,
but I thought Terri looked young, too. My eyes drifted back down
to her chest -- that was definitely mature.
`Not bad!' was my first thought. And she wanted a date with
a college guy, real bad (`and all that entailed,' I leeringly
thought to my lecherous self).
Terri introduced us, "Jake, this is Penny. Penny, Jake."
We looked at each other and actually shook hands! And then
she gave me a dazzling white smile.
All right!
The ride to the Vince's house was short and filled with
small talk. When we got there, the party was already going; and,
since this was Saturday night and most of us brought dates, it
was a "make-out" party, as opposed to the Friday variety, drink-
till-you-puke-type party. The lights were turned down and the
turntable was stacked with Little Anthony, The Platters, and Lee
Andrews and the Hearts -- all slow and romantic songs.
Of course with my luck, Annette was there, looking terrific
in make-up, highheels, and a tight skirt. I said `hi' to her as
I popped a beer and fixed a sloe-gin-and-7-Up for Penny.
She looked at me and then at Penny standing a few feet away
talking to Terri, and said, "Babysitting your little sister,
tonight, Jake?"
As always, I was busy looking at her face and body and her
sarcasm caught me off-guard. I started to reply, but she was
already walking away. Shit!
Penny and I danced a few dances, holding each other tight
and by about the third song, we were french-kissing. Then, even
before I expected, Penny was sitting on my lap in a large over-
stuffed chair in a dark corner of the basement and we were
making-out like crazy.
Every so often, we would come up for air and I would try to
be a little cool and ask her about school or her classes, but she
would just start kissing me again. Who was I to stop her from
what she obviously wanted to do just to have a conversation?
And, God, could she kiss!
Perfectly!
Not too firm, not too soft. Not too wet, not too dry. Her
mouth moved against mine, her tongue alive and sexy, moving,
touching, attacking my mouth and then retreating as my tongue
followed. I had NEVER kissed a girl who could kiss like that.
When I tried to be sly, she brushed my hand away from her
breasts or back down her thighs to below her knees, but I didn't
really care as long as we kept on kissing like that.
We kissed all night.
We kissed until Mike and Terri shook us apart and told us it
was time to leave. Terri had a strict midnight curfew and Penny
was spending the night at her house. I knew I wasn't going to
get lucky.
On the way home, I asked Penny for her phone number. I was
really curious -- if she kissed like that on a first date, in a
house full of strangers -- what kind of sexpot would she be in
the backseat of my car at the drive-in? I couldn't wait to find
out.
******
On Monday, sitting in the cafeteria, I took a ribbing about
no one seeing me at the party. Mike added his two cents by
complaining that I got his old man's upholstery wet after he and
Terri had to throw buckets of ice water on us to get us apart. I
didn't mind ribbing like that.
On Wednesday night I called Penny to ask her out for
Saturday. She seemed genuinely surprised I called her (which
surprised me, a little), but she quickly agreed to a date and got
off the phone. It seems that Wednesday night was the night
Penny's older sister's soon-to-be-fiancee called, and no one else
in the family was allowed on the phone. What a couple of stiffs
they must be, I thought.
Saturday night, dressed in khakis, loafers and my favorite
shirt and tie, I met Penny's parents and older sister, Diane (an
ice-queen, stuck-up snobby bitch, if I ever met one! <but very
good looking>). Penny had told me that her father was a cop and
he seemed pleased that I wasn't a Hell's Angel or one of those
"hairy-hippie-types." He asked about school, and I told them I
was in my first year. And then -- thank God! -- Penny came
prancing down the steps in a cute sweater and skirt, and we made
our way towards the door.
Penny's dad stopped us and said, "I usually say 11 o'clock
for Penny, but she asked me if midnight would be alright,
tonight. I guess it will be, young man, but not a minute later."
"Yessir. Thank you, sir."
And we were off to the drive-in.
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