SOS is an event inspired by Brillig and Walking Kateastrophe's . To find out who else is taking part, and read some great SOS, Walking Kateastrophe is hosting this week. Go check it out for some soapy fun! This is my own story--an ending and a beginning, from high school to college--and the array of “older“ men that came through my life back then. Part One is here., Part Two is here.
With approximately three weeks of finals and my actual graduation ceremony left, and Tony’s last two weeks of college finals, we saw very little of each other after our rather enticing first date. We spoke via the phone, and saw each other Saturday evenings during finals weeks. My father kept pushing for me to go to the state university, even though my dorm room and roommate were already chosen for the coming fall semester at the university at Ames, Iowa. However, once the local university offered me a generous honor student placement, if I would go to summer school instead of waiting until the fall semester, my father offered me the sun, moon and stars if I’d accept. Ok, not the sun and moon, but a Maroon Mustang and a gas credit card (unheard of back in the late sixties for a student to have a gas credit card). Of course, Tony was also pushing for me to accept the local honor student enrollment so he and I could continue dating.
Finally with so much pressure from my parents, I accepted the honor student position, and there I was four days after high school graduation, I was starting summer school, sitting in the honor’s classroom at 7:30 a.m. If I hadn’t been practically asleep in my chair, I would have been completely devastated that I was no longer going to the college of my dreams, but I was also surrendering my last summer of “freedom” before beginning “adulthood”, college, and looking at a life of WORK and OCCUPATION squarely in the face. Good thing I had a very cool car to drive around in, or boyfriend or not, I could have been pretty depressed.
Tony, on the other hand, was also taking summer classes and was there to pick me up for my first day of classes. He was extremely tickled that he would have me by his side, and get to walk me to classes, take me to the student union, to the library for study dates, to school events, etc. I tried to join in on his enthusiasm, but I’m NOT a morning person, and pretty summer weather or not, climbing in his car at six-thirty a.m. on a June morning, didn’t catch me in my most “perky” mood.
Still, Tony showered me with little surprises throughout the day. He had created a series of small “welcome to college” gifts, each one wrapped in crazy and sweet ways, decorated with his own personal artistic flare. It was difficult to stay in a crummy mood when such attention was being lavished on me.
At the end of the day, before delivering me back home, he had one more BIG box in the trunk of the car. I unwrapped it, and there was a stuffed teddy bear with a graduation hat on--and it was sitting on top of another wrapped box. I opened the next package, and it had a box of new ink pens in it--and another box. By the fourth box, which held a “coupon” for one free back rub, redeemable from gift-giver at the time of my own choosing--and one more tiny box, I was pretty knocked off my feet by his thoughtfulness and creativity. In the last box was a bottle of VERY expensive perfume.
I wasn’t sure my father would allow me to accept such an expensive gift--but that wasn’t all that was in the box--under the perfume was a beautiful wristwatch--with diamonds set around the clock face. THAT I was VERY sure my father was going to object to heartily.
Tony was rather surprised when I said I couldn’t accept his gifts without my father’s permission. He argued about it saying he was working, and had been working for over a year and a half to pay for his college expenses, but that he had enough to “spoil” his favorite girl. I told him my father was born in 1908, was pretty “Victorian” in his views--and I doubted he’d let me keep the gifts. I told him my folks had me when they were forty, so I’d grown up used to an “older” set of values--and there really would be little chance he’d bend on this.
Tony said he wanted to talk with my dad--I gave him credit for courage, but I felt it was going to NOT bode well for our “future” dating. But Tony went right in to the house and asked my father if he might speak with him. He explained that he had his own money. He had purchased the watch for my graduation present, but hadn’t had time to give it to me since between graduation and my starting college I’d been busy with family things. He said it wasn’t just an “off-handed” gift, but appropriate for graduation. My father was protesting, but I was surprised, he finally agreed as Tony assured him his parents knew of the gifts, and his intentions were honorable.
I was impressed. And I only had to take a mild amount of static from my parents after Tony left that evening. All-in-all, my first day of college had been pretty awesome.
The second weekend after college classes had started, Tony asked me out for a second “date”. We had been fairly inseparable on campus between classes, but Tony said that didn’t count as a date. He had planned a special outing for us, and he’d be there to pick me up bright and shining on Saturday. I said it was going to be my first day to sleep in since school began, so not to make it too bright and shining. But he said we had a ways to go, so no sleeping in.
After a two hour’s drive out through the countryside, Tony turned in to an area marked as “trout stream” area. He had packed not only a picnic and munchies, but also a bunch of art supplies. Tablets, pencils, charcoal, colored pens, just all sorts of things. I figured they were for him. But he said since I’d shared with him I’d been a rather “closet” artist since my dad was the real artist, and told me I was NOT an artist, I was a writer; well, he wanted me to free myself and just draw. He said there was plenty to inspire me there--a trout stream with water cascading over colorful stones, trees with shaggy bark, an array of summer flowers in bloom, birds and critters all around, granite outcroppings, etc.
Tony threw our drinks in the cold stream, made a little fire ring for our foil wrapped steaks, potatoes and corn on the cob to slow cook in the fire’s coals. And we two settled down with our art supplies and began to draw. By late afternoon we stretched out on the blanket just enough in the shade of a large tree to keep from getting sunburned, and took a catnap. We were lulled asleep with the sounds of the birds and the water rushing over the stones. The scent of the flowers was intoxicating.
When I came to, Tony had packed everything up, and was stretched out beside me, tickling my ear with the edge of a daisy. He brushed kisses along my cheek, my nose, and nibbled on my earlobe. The light warm breeze of the day seemed to accentuate his every move. He ran the tips of his fingers from my shoulders, down my arms, and out to my fingertips. It felt like tiny electrical zings that went from my finger tips, directly to my very alert breasts and other VERY alert special places. He took his time, even playing gently with the ringlets around my face.
I had reached up and put my arms around his neck, pulling him over me and down closer to my body. The warmth of his skin, and his scent made my body ache. As his lips pressed into mine, I tightened my arms, pulling him deeper into my embrace. About the time I was beginning to wrap my leg around his, he laughed ever so gently, and pulled himself out of my arms, and raised himself up and away from me.
“Whoa there, Sweetheart. Let’s not do anything we’d be sorry about later. I intend for us to make it for the long haul. We better head back to the car and down the road for home.”
He took my hands and pulled me to my feet. I was rather confused and a bit out of it. The hormones were still dictating what my body wanted--and his words weren’t quite registering. The Sunday-go-to-meeting side of me was glad for his restraint. The “you’ve GOT to be kidding” hormonal side of me was a bit hurt about this seeming rejection of my “offering”.
Tony pulled me close to him and kept his arm around me on the drive home. I really was inexperienced in getting into hot and heavy sex--but some how I did feel rejected. I kept telling myself he was right, and I was safe with Tony and could trust his judgment. It had been a wonderful day--and he had seen to it I had nothing to regret later. Now if I could just convince my hormones, it would truly have been the end to a perfect day.
