Deadly Chemistry
9 I Still Love You
THE CREW at the lunch table on Monday listened to Cassie relate the story of our speech contest, praising me for my two top three finishes in the event. Of course, I reciprocated by mentioning that Cassie had led the debate team to a first place finish and had won the Original Oratory division. Eventually, it got around to my being grilled by the judges after my poetry reading.
“When it came down to it, they were concerned about my emotional stability and whether I was a threat to other students or to myself because the poems I read were about suicide, rape, and murder. I just said that they’d misinterpreted the poems and these were societal indictments. The first told how humanity was planning its own extinction and the second was a story of vengeance against a god who broke promises and abandoned his people. They apparently decided that I was too crazy to be a threat.” Nikki had joined us at our table today and as I was speaking she began to raise her hand, gradually higher and higher until everyone had to notice. I hoped she wasn’t going to confess to being the author and getting everyone in trouble. “Yes, Nicolette?” I finally said. “Did you have something you wanted to say?”
“No.”
“Why are you raising your hand?”
“It’s my watch. It’s only waterproof and the bullshit is getting so deep in here I’m afraid it will be damaged.” She said it so flatly and undramatically that everyone was silent for a few seconds while they processed what she said. I had no idea she had such a biting sense of humor. Rose, of course, spit milk out her nose and everybody started howling.
“Brian, you have a phone call,” Mom called to me. It was two weeks before Christmas and I thought it might be Rose to set up a birthday date. I clomped down the stairs, making a lot more noise than I usually did, just for the hell of it. For some unknown reason I was in a squirrelly mood.
“This is the Pillsbury Doughboy. Wanna tickle me?” Someone on the other end of the line choked on her laughter. “Hello? Are you okay?”
“Have you been avoiding me, Brian?” Who the hell is this?
“Excuse me. Who is this, please?”
“It’s Miss Polly, and I’d love to tickle you.”
“Oh shit! I mean, I’m sorry, Miss Polly. I thought it was one of my girlfriends.”
“We could work on that, but I’m a little old for you. Why haven’t you called me? I gave you my card in August.”
“Oh no! I’m really sorry, Miss Polly. I had a really rough fall and completely forgot to call.”
“A rough fall?” Oops. I didn’t want to go into all that with Miss Polly. Better to lighten it up.
“Yes. All my girlfriends broke up with me and I started eating everything I cooked. I weigh in at 250 now and can hardly get out of the house.” There was silence on the other end or the line. I just don’t know when to keep my mouth shut. “I’m kidding, Miss Polly. I don’t weigh 250. Yet.”
“Brian.” She sounded pained. “Did all your girlfriends break up with you? That’s terrible.”
“It was just a misunderstanding. And it was temporary. I’m sorry I’m in such a weird mood today. All I can say in my defense is that I’m a teen.”
“You see, that’s what’s been missing with the others. A sense of humor.”
“Others?”
“When you didn’t call, the studio pressured me to audition other candidates for our young adult segment. None of them had a sense of humor. Oh, they were fine cooks and could speak intelligently, but none of them had a spark that would come across on tape. I want you to come in and audition.”
“Oh. Thank you. I, uh, would love to. You know I’m in high school, though, right? I can’t be there on weekdays. And there are basketball games and practice in the afternoon. I don’t want to be a pain for you.”
“Brian, when would be convenient for you?” Convenient for me? I should really treat this more seriously. Miss Polly seemed to really want me to come in.
“You really want me to audition, Miss Polly? I’m sorry I haven’t been treating this more seriously. Of course, I’ll make whatever arrangement I need to if my folks agree. I get out of basketball practice at five and could be to your studio by 5:30 except on Friday when we have a game. I have a tournament the weekend of the 17th, but other than that, I guess I’m available on Saturdays.”
“This Saturday at ten o’clock at the studio. And please bring a parent as there may be a contract involved. You can even bring a girlfriend if you’d like. I’d give anything to have both you and Candace… I mean Elaine… on the show but I understand she’s in college.”
“I’m sure she’d like that, but not this weekend. She loved working on your show,” I said. “If you can hold a moment, I’ll confirm with my mom.”
“Certainly.” Mom was standing in the doorway of the kitchen listening to the conversation with an open mouth. Dad stood just behind her. I quickly explained and Mom nodded agreement.
“We’re good, Miss Polly.” I took down the information and instructions for getting to the studio and Miss Polly asked me to prepare a quick dish that I could create while we talked and to keep in mind that we’d be having a conversation while I was cooking so not to be too complicated.
Damn! I only had two days to get a demo ready!
“I know this is late notice,” I said at lunch on Friday, “but I need a date tomorrow morning. It’s kind of special and it’s possible that you might be sworn to secrecy. Unlikely, but possible. You have to be willing to not talk to anyone about the date—parents excluded—until after I give the okay.” My girlfriends all looked at each other.
“I’ll do it!” Doug said. “Whatever it is sounds too cool to pass up.” Everybody started laughing.
“No way,” Rhiannon chimed in. “This obviously calls for a girlfriend. I’ll do it.”
“Wait. When did you become Brian’s girlfriend?” Brenda asked. Samantha was waving her hand in the air.
“Yes, Samantha?” I said. “Is your watch only waterproof?” We all laughed again. Ever since Nikki had used the line it had become an automatic ‘I call bullshit’ sign.
“No, I stopped wearing a watch. We haven’t been able to spend much time together lately. If your secret date means we could spend some ‘quality’ time together, I’d like to volunteer.”
“Aw. Such sacrifice,” Liz said. “I can’t this weekend or I’d mud-wrestle you for the privilege.”
“I’d buy a ticket for that,” Lionel said.
“Samantha, I’d love to have you accompany me on my top secret date tomorrow. May I pick you up at nine?”
“You mean I have to wake up in the morning? Can I spend the night tonight?” Everyone looked at her. She blushed. “I’m kidding! I’ll be ready at nine.”
We won our game Friday night, but I was so distracted thinking about Saturday morning that I made stupid errors and didn’t play much. The team did just fine without me.
“Now can you tell me where we’re going?” Sam asked when we picked her up. She was stunning. I’d given her pretty explicit instructions about what to wear and she looked great. Her black hair framed her face and she was wearing just the right amount of makeup. She was beautiful. She was wearing a nice full skirt that stopped just above her knees. I’d suggested a silky tan blouse that I knew she had and she wore a pair of two-inch pumps that made her legs look spectacular. She was a little surprised that Mom and Dad were going with us. I explained what I had to do this morning and she was so excited she almost peed herself. We got to the studio and I set up my demo where Miss Polly showed me. I was impressed by the portable kitchen she took to the fair, but the studio kitchen was incredible.
“Okay, I want you to just do this as naturally as possible. I’ll be asking questions while you are cooking and we’ll just keep up a nice and I hope sometimes humorous conversation. Samantha—My, you are pretty. Are you really Brian’s girlfriend?”
“Yes ma’am,” she said quietly. “One of them.”
“Well, we will definitely want you on camera. Why don’t you stand on that side of Brian and hand him things he asks for? Is that okay, Brian?”
“Sure, Miss Polly. Let me rearrange things just a little so she can reach them.”
“Remember, this is a trial to see how we can best set things up, so my producer—You’ve met Harvey at the Fair, Brian—might ask you to repeat something or to stop for a minute while they rearrange lights or the camera angle. Don’t worry about it. We’ll take a break while things cook and then tape a conclusion for the demo when the cooking is done. Let’s just do the demo and talk through it and I’m sure everything will be fine.”
When we were finally set up, Samantha and I got wired for sound.
“What are we making this morning, Brian?” Miss Polly asked when we started rolling.
“Well, you didn’t give me much time to prepare, Miss Polly,” I laughed. “So, we’re just having left-over pizza.”
“Brian, this is a cooking show. You are supposed to be cooking something.”
“I am. In fact, you’ve cooked a lot of holiday meals, Miss Polly. What’s the one thing that you always have afterward?”
“Left-overs?”
“Exactly. And the one thing nobody wants to do the day after a holiday is cook another big meal. So, a lot of us just pick at the left-over turkey or ham, or maybe we make sandwiches. This is another way to use your left-overs and keep the holiday spirit alive. I had a ball game last night and Mom knows I always come home hungry afterward. So, she made turkey for dinner. Most grocery stores sell just the turkey breast, many of them already stuffed, so you can just pop it in the oven or—our favorite—in the crockpot. I had a light meal before I left for the game—which we won, by the way. Go Trojans!—and then we had turkey and all the trimmings when I got home. Yum!”
“So, did you have left-over turkey? It was just a breast, right?”
“Yes, there was plenty. It’s a weird thing, though, Miss Polly. I’ve never been able to tell if it was the left breast or the right. Do you know how to tell?”
“Oh dear. Cut. I don’t think we can use that in a tape. Harvey?”
“Let’s let it run. I don’t think we’re in trouble yet. We’re talking about a turkey. Don’t go too far that direction, Brian. Roll it.” I was about to apologize when Samantha cut in.
“I know how to tell,” she said. Miss Polly and I both looked at her. “Most turkey distributors still leave the wishbone in a turkey breast. See? It’s right there. We break them to make a wish. You win the wish on this one, Brian. It’s the left side.”
“Well, we learn something new every day,” Miss Polly said. I grinned at Samantha and she blushed.
“Thanks, Samantha. I knew there was a reason you were my girlfriend besides that you are beautiful, kind, intelligent and… I’d better continue. I’m going to grab a hunk of bread dough from a bowl I prepared earlier.”
“Everyone knows bread is hard to make, Brian. Do you mean we have to get up at four o’clock in the morning and knead bread?”
“I don’t make everything up, I’m sorry to say. In this case, I went to the refrigerator section of the grocery store and got several tubes of dough for dinner rolls. Normally, you open these, put them on the cookie sheet, and bake them. I just smashed them all together and set them aside to rise. Now we can just break off a chunk and spread it out on a lightly floured surface. One of the fun things about this is that everyone gets to create their own pizza.”
“I’ve always loved the feel of bread dough between my fingers,” Miss Polly said.
“May I make one, Brian?” Samantha asked. What a great partner!
“Sure, Cutie. We have lots of counter space, so we’ll just flour a little over here and you can start stretching out your own pizza crust.”
“Do you spin it on your finger like they do in a pizza parlor?” Miss Polly asked, demonstrating and getting flour all over all of us.
“Only if you’re Italian!” I laughed. “This is part of the fun of this menu. Everyone gets to make their own creation. Pizza traditionally has tomato sauce on it, but Mom made a lot of gravy last night, so I’m smearing my crust with a healthy portion of it. I’m adding the turkey chunks that I cut up, some green beans, and I’m just enough of a traditionalist to sprinkle some cheese over the top. Personally, I like Parmesan. And now it’s ready to bake!”
“Are those diced bell peppers?” Miss Polly asked.
“Yes. We didn’t really have a full holiday meal last night, so I chopped up a few of the more traditional ingredients as well just in case you wanted to decorate it a little more.”
“Mushrooms and olives!” Samantha chimed in as she decorated her own pizza.
“The last step, of course is to bake the individual left-over pizza. If you don’t have a bread stone, I recommend putting an aluminum foil tray in the bottom of your oven so you capture any spills. No one wants to spend the holiday season cleaning their oven. We’ve preheated the oven to 450 degrees and we can get all three of our pizzas in it for fifteen to twenty minutes. Remember that the more things you put in the oven, the longer the cooking time will be.”
Harvey yelled, “Cut!” and we just hung around talking for a few minutes. I leaned over and gave Samantha a quick kiss.
“You really are his girlfriend!” Miss Polly exclaimed. Well, duh! When the pizzas were done, Harvey started the camera rolling again. We cut them and put them on plates, then went to the kitchen table to eat.
“Brian, this is a really wonderful day-after-the-holiday creation that is easy, fun, and gives a new take on left-overs. Thank you.”
“It was a pleasure, Miss Polly.”
“And it’s sooo good,” Samantha said as she took another bite of her pizza.
“Thank you for showing this and thank you, Samantha, for being our guest. Brian, is there any last word you’d like to give our audience?”
I don’t know what clicked. It was just an audition tape. Nobody was going to see it. But this was television. If I went through with this, Miss Polly was syndicated all over the State. I turned and looked directly at the camera with the red light on it.
“Yes. Just remember this, girlfriend. No matter what, I still love you.”
“I love it!” Miss Polly exclaimed as we reviewed the tapes. “Harvey, I want to keep that ending. Every week it can be his sign-off. Every single woman—and a lot of married ones—will be thinking he’s talking about her. Especially if we can have a different girl with him every week. If this goes the way I think it will, we can actually have women enter to be his demo companion… like a contest. Samantha, you were glorious. Are all Brian’s girlfriends as pretty and as talented as you are?”
“As one girlfriend said, ‘lots more.’ Thank you for letting me help Brian.”
“Can we get a release from your parents to use your film?”
“Um… I didn’t do anything to embarrass them, did I?”
“No, dear.”
“I suppose so.”
We moved from the demo to the contract phase and Dad got involved with Harvey while the rest of us sat around. Dad called Mom and me out into the hall.
“Do you really want to do this, Brian? You’ll have to commit most of your Saturdays and they want to film a Christmas special live on Friday the 23rd. They want to use the tape from today for an introduction next week.”
“Basketball? And speech competitions?”
“They’ll double up filming the episodes on weeks prior to when you have a Saturday commitment.”
“Is it worth it? I mean, it was fun and I didn’t have time to get nervous or anything. If it paid like fifty dollars an episode, that’s barely enough to cover the cost of the food. And it could be a lot of work.”
“I won’t tell you differently. This is a real job. You’ll be on the hook for an episode every week except when Miss Polly is also on break and they do re-runs. The contract has a sixty-day cancellation clause. It will require a lot of planning. But is it worth it? They will buy all the food and reimburse you for anything you bring in. But they are offering you a contract for twenty-five episodes including what you just taped and the Christmas special at $250 each. That would put a serious dent in what you need for college.”
Holy fucking shit! $250 an episode? I’d be studying and prepping my ass off, plus having school. But even if I kept fifty a week for fun money, that was $5,000! I could hardly speak. I nodded to Dad.
“Let’s go sign your contract,” he said.
I signed. Dad signed. Harvey had already been on the phone with Sylvester Cortales and he was coming down to sign the release form and Samantha was receiving $50 for being with me. Things were moving fast and Miss Polly already had a bunch of notes for me for the holiday special. And she wanted me to bring another girlfriend.
“Do we have to end our date now?” Sam asked me.
“Not at all, Cutie. Aren’t you exhausted, though?” I certainly was. It was three o’clock by the time we got back to the house. Mr. Cortales signed and Samantha got her check. She still couldn’t believe it. I realized that I’d just signed up to have pretty much all my Saturday dates on television. I really wanted to do something special with my girlfriends.
“Maybe we could take a little nap. Maybe in the barn. And then maybe we could go to a movie. Or just stay in the barn.”
“You really love those horses, don’t you?” I laughed. She slugged me in the arm, but not too hard. We headed to the barn and I told Mom and Dad that we’d come in to take them to dinner at the White Spot. I was feeling pretty flush with a $250 check in my pocket.
I followed Sam’s cute butt up the ladder to the hayloft after we’d said hello to the horses. They all seemed to know something was up and ‘nickers’ was an anagram for ‘snicker.’ I couldn’t remember ever following a girl who was wearing a skirt up the ladder. It was an experience I wanted to repeat.
Once we were up there, though, Sam became very shy. We spread the sleeping bag and blanket out on a fresh bed of hay and crawled under the blanket to keep warm. It was a lot colder in the barn than we anticipated. I put my arms around Samantha and just held her as she cuddled up to me, her face buried in my thick coat. I thought for a while she’d gone to sleep.
“Brian?” Her voice was tiny and seemed far away.
“What is it, Cutie?”
“Why won’t Hannah answer my calls or letters? I miss her.” Oh God! Just the mention of her name was enough to pull tears from my eyes.
“I don’t think her parents will let her. Honey, I miss her, too. I miss her more every day.”
“I think… I fell in love with her and I can’t stop.” This was something new to hear from Samantha. I knew she and Hannah had become close friends, but… No wonder she’d been so mad at me when Hannah broke up with us. It seemed almost irrational at the time.
“My precious, precious girlfriend, I didn’t know. Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”
“I know you love her as much as I do. Probably even more. How do you stand it, Brian? How do you keep going on? I heard what you really said at the end of the tape this morning. It wasn’t a message to me or to the rest of us or to all the single and married young women watching the show. You told Hannah you still loved her, no matter what. I’m so proud of you. I love you.”
“I’m going to end every episode with those words, love. Maybe someday she’ll see one and know. But it goes for you, too. I still love you and I love you more every day. Please don’t doubt my love for you.”
“I don’t, Brian. Please show me. Please make love to me. I know what our limitations are and I’m not pushing for anything more. But one day, I’ll say, ‘Brian, please make love to me,’ and you will. You’ll make love to me as a real lover with complete access to my whole body and we’ll join together and I’ll feel you inside me in more places than my heart. I love you. I love you.” She punctuated her vows with kisses and before long we were warm enough to begin losing our clothes.
Samantha was starving for my love and for Hannah’s. We only used our hands on each other because neither of us was willing to stop kissing. The soft, silky smoothness of her bare pussy was unbelievably wet as she declared her love over and over, stroking me toward a climax that we shared. Our legs were coated in her juices and our stomachs in mine. And we held each other tightly, both missing our absent love.
“Samantha, it’s so cool of you to have us all over to your house for a Friday night party. It’s cozy,” Brenda said as she hugged Sam.
“Which is code for tiny and crowded,” Sam laughed. “Get your little butt over there on one of your boyfriends’ laps so we can get started. You’re the last one to get here.”
“I’m sorry. With the tournament tomorrow, there was a big cheerleader meeting. And Sora got here at the same time I did.” They walked into the family room where the rest of us were already gathered. It was crowded. The guys pretty much got the bottom level and when Brenda perched on my lap next to Rose where Sam had been until she jumped to answer the door, Sam stood in front of everyone.
“This is going to be a short party tonight because all of the guys and four girls have to be at basketball tournaments before noon tomorrow. They can’t stay out till midnight and be ready to play. And the rest of us are going to come and cheer. But you all know that I had a top secret date with Brian last Saturday and we’ve kept absolutely quiet about it, because it was part of our contract. But Mom recorded a television show this morning and we want you all to see it. Then we’ll have some snacks and a group grope or something. Here goes.”
Samantha had the video tape cued up and hit the remote. We decided to have the presentation at her house because she has a bigger screen TV than I do. None of us had seen the tape yet, though. The screen came to life with the graphic for The Homemaker’s Hour and their signature theme music.
“We have a special sneak preview today of something that will become a weekly feature on our show on Friday mornings,” Miss Polly said. “We’ve had two shows in the past two years that garnered as much fan mail as any in our history and they both featured a remarkable young chef named Brian Frost. In addition to being known for his many girlfriends—and I say that in a very nice way—Brian has captured the hearts of many young housewives as well. Now, each Friday morning, we’ll have a taped presentation titled ‘Young Cooking with Chef Brian.’ Today’s episode was recorded last Saturday as a test. Tell us what you think as Brian and his girlfriend Samantha introduce us to a new way to use up those holiday leftovers.”
“No way!” “You rock!” “A weekly feature?” There were hoots and hollers as the tape ran and I did the demo with Samantha’s help and input from Miss Polly. They put titles over the tape that included the name of the recipe, my name, and Samantha’s name. I could see some clever things we could do with it in the future, but people were commenting on us as much as listening to and watching the demo. When I gave my new signature closing, everyone let out a heartfelt, “Aww.”
“Brian will be with us live next Friday morning for our special holiday show and we hope he’ll bring another of his girlfriends with him. If you’d like the recipes Brian used today, send a stamped self-addressed envelope to us in care of our station. Happy homemaking!” Miss Polly signed off.
“Who gets to go with you next week, Brian?” Cassie asked. “That’s so cool.”
“Here’s the deal,” I said. “No one has to go on TV with me. I’ve contracted for twenty-five episodes including the pilot and the live holiday show. If it’s successful, there will be a short summer break and then I’ll come back with a new contract in the fall. Any girlfriend who assists me on the show will receive fifty dollars. Even with everyone on the agreement, I don’t have twenty-five girlfriends. I don’t think. As we start getting audience responses, we’ll draw some complete strangers to come in and be my ‘girlfriend’ for the show. Any of my real girlfriends who would like to do the show, I will also take on a real date that night.”
“And the real date is pretty dreamy,” Samantha added.
“Who’s first?” Doug asked. “There are two sitting on my lap who would dance naked on the kitchen counter to get a chance.” Doreen and Rhiannon turned on Doug and started tickling him until he surrendered.
“Not on the counter!” Doreen said.
“Whoever wants to gets a chance, even if you don’t dance naked, but I’d like to invite Rose to be my date for the Holiday special. I want to take Rose out for her birthday, which is Wednesday if any of you didn’t know that. Rose, would you like to have your birthday date televised?” I asked the girl on my right knee. For an answer, I got a kiss and a nod of her head. “Don’t forget, everybody; if you go on the show you have to have a signed release from your parents if you are not over eighteen.”
The party broke up early and I gave each of my girlfriends the little box of truffles that I’d bought at Thanksgiving for them. The guys headed home to bed so we’d be fresh for our game at noon. Before I left, though, I gave Samantha a long lingering kiss.
Varsity and JV headed to different schools for our holiday tournaments Saturday morning. Our cheerleaders traveled on the same bus. All the non-players had to split up since members of our dating group were playing in three different tournaments. The varsity was playing at Harrison Military Academy. The JV was at Union. We’d lost to them just a few weeks ago. And Whitney’s girls’ team was playing at Potawatomi. Rose, Liz, and Nicolette came to the JV game. Samantha and Cassie went to watch Whitney play. Sadly, Sora couldn’t be at her boyfriend Geoff’s game because Geoff was on JV with me and Sora was a varsity cheerleader. She and Brenda rode the team bus. Rhiannon, Doreen, Louise, Sugar, and Denise also went to the varsity game. Events like this were difficult for us to do together.
This might have been the toughest tournament we had all year. We played Union in the first game at 12:10 p.m. and hacked it out right down to the final buzzer. I launched a three-pointer with seconds left on the clock and we suddenly led by one point. Adams did a rapid turnaround, launching the ball half-way down the court on the inbound. There was no one near the guard who took the pass, but he didn’t have time to dribble in for a simple lay-up. He launched the ball from half-court just as the buzzer sounded. We watched it sail up, hit the front of the rim, and bounce off. We won the game. At 2:20 p.m., Bishop O’Dell Catholic School and Hudson High met. The Catholic school was the smallest school in our area and fell pretty quickly to Hudson, the largest school.
The eight o’clock game against the biggest school in our county proved to be just as tight as the first game. For some reason, our team was clicking. George scooped a dozen rebounds practically off the boards and Barry finally got his heavy feet far enough off the floor to slam dunk the winning point.
Miss Polly: We’re back and it’s time for ‘Young Cooking with Chef Brian.’ Good morning, Brian.
Me: Good morning, Miss Polly. Merry Christmas.
Miss P: And to you. Who is with you this morning?
Me: This is my girlfriend, Rose. Rose, meet Miss Polly.
Rose: Happy to meet you, ma’am.
Miss P: What do you have special for us today, Brian?
Me: Christmas birthday cake.
Miss P: Is this a religious pastry?
Me: No, ma’am. You see, when someone has a birthday near the holidays they often get short-changed. Take Rose, for instance. Her birthday was Wednesday. Rose, what did you get for your birthday?
Rose: Oh, I won’t really get any presents until Christmas. They are kind of combination birthday and Christmas presents.
Miss P: That’s sad!
Me: That’s what I’m talking about. I wanted to make this birthday—Rose’s seventeenth—a special occasion. That’s why I invited her to be on the show and I’m going to bake her birthday cake right here.
Miss P: We know cakes take a bit of time, so let’s go through the assembly process and when you put it in the oven, we’ll spend some time with our next guest.
I assembled the white cake with a red and green swirl in it while Miss Polly asked questions and I got Rose involved. We were having a lot of fun when I got the cake in the oven. I had a second cake that I’d already decorated and put candles on set aside because I wouldn’t be able to frost a hot cake out of the oven. All the time I asked Rose what her most memorable birthday was, how old she was when she realized Christmas wasn’t about her, and whether she envied people with summer birthdays. We did a lot of laughing and after the commercial, Miss Polly interviewed a specialist on decorating a holiday table. It was nice because she included Rose and me in helping put the decorations together and set the table. It was like we were a big family preparing for a holiday celebration.
When it came my turn again, I pulled the cake out of the oven and turned it out on the cooling racks. I cut one of the layers in half so the audience could see the red and green swirls baked into the cake and then I brought out the decorated cake. I lit the candles and walked across the set to where the dining room table was set and everyone was seated. We sang ‘Happy Birthday to Rose’ and she blew out the candles. Then as I served the cake we all talked about what we were doing for the holiday. Miss Polly made a big show of holding her piece of cake out for the camera to zoom in on.
“We’re so happy to have Chef Brian and his girlfriends join The Homemakers Hour each Friday morning,” Miss Polly said to the camera. “We’ll all be off for two weeks for the holiday and Brian’s segments will begin airing on Friday, January thirteenth. For us, it will be a lucky day. Thank you again, Brian. Any last word?”
“Thank you, Miss Polly, and happy holiday to you and yours.” I turned to face the camera. “Just remember, girlfriend: no matter what, I still love you.”
Rose sat on my lap in the family room as I reclined in the chair. Dad and Mom were still out working on last minute items for our trip to Seattle the next day. I was going to have to take Rose home in a couple of hours so I could finish packing and be ready to go when we left for the airport in Chicago at five in the morning. Rose had scarcely stopped thanking me for her birthday date, punctuating each thank you with a deep and soulful kiss.
“Brian,” she said as we attempted to catch our breath with my hand still caressing her bare breast, offered to my lips to suckle. “The girlfriends talked. All of us. We want you to know that if you find someone who interests you in Seattle while you are visiting your sister, you don’t have to call us and tell us you are going to kiss or make out. We’d like you to call, though, if you decide you’re going to make love. You’re seventeen and the agreement says that you can date outside the group with the same rules as inside the group. That means that penetration is on the table for you. I mean, not literally on the table, but… you know. We just want to know if you’ve decided that none of us will be your first. You only have to call Courtney and she’ll talk to the rest of us. We just want to know. Is that okay?”
“I’m not going to meet anyone in Seattle that I want to sleep with this week. I’m only going to be gone for eight days, sweetheart. I want my first time to be with someone I know and love.”
“Famous last words. What if by some strange chance, Heaven happened to be in Seattle this week and you met completely by accident and were so overwhelmed that you fell into bed? It could happen.”
“Rose, do you know something I don’t?”
“No! I’m not implying that’s going to happen, I’m just saying that if something happened, please tell us first. Is that too much, love?” I kissed Rose’s nipples and worked my way up her neck to her lips. She was getting pretty worked up and so was I.
“My beautiful Rose. It is not too much to ask. In fact, it is nothing. I’d feel like a heel if I thought my first time was sneaking around behind the backs of my girlfriends—especially if it was with someone they didn’t know.” I kissed her again while I petted her magnificent bosom, pressed against my bare chest. We were just going to cuddle for a while, so we’d chosen the big chair in the family room with Rose sitting on my lap. Our cuddle just kept progressing to fewer and fewer clothes between us. We both still had our shirts on, but they were open in front and Rose had managed to pull her bra off without removing her shirt.
What they were asking wasn’t unreasonable, but I got to thinking that there were two sides to this coin. What’s good for the goose and all that.
“Rose, I want to give you all the same explicit permission. We’ll all be around other people over the holiday. If you meet or get together with someone you want to kiss and make out with according to the rules, you can do it without asking me about it. But I’d feel terrible if I discovered one of you was sleeping with someone and I didn’t know you were going that direction. Just let me know. Okay?”
“My darling, I only want you, but I understand what you are saying. I’ll pass the word.” We kissed again. “Brian,” she whispered. “I’m seventeen now, you know. That means that we could… if we wanted to… we could make love… all the way.”
“Is that what you want, Rose? I love you like crazy, but I’m not sure I’m ready to take that step.”
“I just wanted to think about being able to do it if we wanted. I think I’m leaking on your pants. Except that first time, we’ve really not done that much sexually yet. I’ve sucked you and you’ve touched me. Even if we don’t go all the way, you could put your hand inside. I give you permission. No. More than that. I’m asking. Brian, will you touch me? Please? Inside?”
As much as Rose had taken pleasure in pleasing me with both her breasts and her mouth, she’d never let me eat her. I captured a nipple between my lips and let my hand glide down her soft belly and beneath the waistband of her panties. It was really tight until she unzipped the side zipper of her skirt and it loosened allowing my hand freer access. The access opened again when she pushed her panties and skirt down off her hips and opened her legs to my questing fingers. My cock was still in my pants, but my hips seemed to have a mind of their own as they pushed against her sitting on my lap. “In me. Put your finger in me, Brian. I want you so much.”
I obliged her. There are new experiences and there are really new experiences. It was the first time that I slid into her tight little channel. I’m sure it would have felt great on my cock. No doubt about it. But with my fingers, I could actually touch her, and feel the texture of her opening, and feel the muscles of her vagina as she clamped down on me, and feel the ridges inside her with my fingers, and explore her, and find out what she liked and what made her buck against me. Rose threw back her head and screamed.
“Thank you for my wonderful birthday present, Brian,” she whispered against me. After three orgasms, two fingers were still lodged in her pussy and she was squeezing against them, sending chills up my arm as I felt her. “Do you remember the story you read me this summer from that magazine?”
I’d tried reading a story from one of the magazines Carl loaned me for the summer to Rose as a long-distance date. It was a very sexy experience and we both came. I nodded.
“Will you write a story for me? Write about what it will be like the first time we make love and then read it to me on the phone for our next morning after date.”
“I don’t think I’m a very good writer.”
“You’re a good talker. Just write down what you tell me. I’d just like a copy afterward.”
“I guess I could do that for you.”
“Every month.”
“Huh?”
“I want at least a phone date with you every month where you read a new story about how you deflower me.”
“Why?”
“When I find the one I want, I’ll make it happen. And you will finally put this hot, hard, throbbing, pulsing, rod in my little pussy and come in me.” There was another flood of Rose-juice on my hand as she panted through the statement while rubbing me through my slacks. Rose slid off my lap and unzipped my pants, pulling my cock out where she could reach it. She dipped her head and my cock slid between her lips. “Will you do that for me, Brian? Will you prepare me a new story every month? Make me come with the story of the first time we make love and one day, the story will come true.”
What man has ever denied a woman anything she wanted when she had his cock in her mouth?
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