Driving Lessons
Chapter 5
I didn't get home Friday night until late and my dad had waited up for me. I said good night and went upstairs to my room wondering at the strange look he gave me. I discovered the reason in my bedroom; my shirt was misbuttoned. I was not returning the same as I'd left earlier in the evening.
My time with Candy Saturday afternoon was wonderful but I'll only give an abbreviated description. She'd already gotten the lowdown from Candy. We talked, walked and, of course, kissed. I dropped her off at work at four with a promise to return for a special pizza at eight. She wouldn't take no for an answer.
My time between four and eight was my own and I knew now to eat before returning to Piacevole Pizza.
This is all sounding a bit dry and remote but that's because I don't think readers want a minute by minute description of what happened or even a day by day one. I'll be abbreviating things here and there, aided by my faulty memory. This all happened when I was sixteen, decades ago. I haven't seen any of the people I'll write about since then. There's no way to talk over what happened or get others' impressions. This is going to be pretty one-sided.
I was deep in a mystery, going deeper. Candy, and Marianne, weren't acting like how I'd been brought up to believe girls acted. Candy seemed not only incapable of jealousy, but had a matter-of-fact concern for my sexual fulfillment. I'd never heard of anyone like her. Or Marianne, with whom one had sex first and then made out with afterwards. We'd spent hours in the car in a make out session like I'd never experienced before. I was dizzy with lust.
Maybe Marianne knew Candy's plans for me. On Saturday night.
Candy told me before we parted that Marianne had been pleased and we'd have another driving lesson on Sunday.
And now for an important part. Marianne wanted me to ask every female I met how they masturbated. This was with a grin so I assumed I need not ask my mom or teachers and people like that. I did ask Candy and this is what she said:
"On my stomach in bed, usually under the covers unless it's summer. And unless my younger sister is in the room. Then it's when she's asleep and for sure I'm under the covers and quiet as a mouse. I use my middle finger on my clitoris. In circles, just that and just once. I usually fall asleep quickly after." She smiled, leaned closer. "I think of you doing things to me. That helps." A kiss on my cheek followed.
At eight Candy met me as I came in, looking bright in her blue uniform, hair in a ponytail. She took my hand and led me through the busy kitchen down the hall, but to another room. She forced some money into my hand, gave me a quick kiss and left me to fend for myself.
The room was larger and had many more men, a wider age spread this time though no one as young as I. Piacevole's owner saw me and left the group of men he'd been talking with.
"It'll be a few minutes. Have your numbers?"
Candy hadn't primed me so I made up my own. "Thirteen, twenty-two, forty-eight."
He scribbled them onto a pad. "Good luck." He left me to greet the person who came after me.
My numbers were nowhere close. The winner said, "Two dollars a slice," and the owner collected the money.
A few of the men had already disrobed. I wasn't, in a way, as relaxed as last time because I knew what was about to happen. I wasn't sure I'd even do anything tonight but observe.
Money in hand, the owner let in two women, naked as before but without bags over their heads. Both were in their early thirties, too young to be moms of my classmates. One was a slender brunette who got down to business right away, kneeling in front of one of the naked men and taking him in her mouth. The other was a plump redhead who was more playful and giggled a lot. She let several men fondle her before she got onto a mattress, one of two, in the center of the room.
I backed away, letting those who were eager move closer. There were a couple of chairs and a table and I sat there, still dressed, watching.
Last time had been relatively quiet compared to this. The redhead giggled, the brunette screamed continuously while she was fucking.
Some of the men liked the enthusiasm of the brunette, others preferred the redhead.
The men themselves were vocal, too, using language to describe the women that I found surprising. If they thought that then, to my mind, out of sheer decency, they shouldn't advertise it. But the sometimes harsh language seemed to spur the women on.1
An hour later the redhead came to sit by me, me in my chair, she on the table, legs apart, leaning back, grinning more than giggling.
"Aren't you going to join us?"
"Shortly. I'm watching."
"Whatever. Look at her, she's such a show off. I think she's had half of them already. How many, do you know?"
"I counted twenty-seven."
"So thirteen at least. She likes them lined up." She leaned closer to me. "I like it up the ass. Just say the word."
"Just stick it in," a man by us said. "The whore can take it. When you getting back in action?"
"In a minute or two. I'm resting. I could use a glass of water."
"Sure." The man left us, left the room, still naked.
"Betty's going to be tuckered in another hour. I aim to last as long as I can tonight. Hubby thinks I'm off visiting my sister." She gave a big wink. "Hell, if I fall asleep, don't even dream of stopping. I got to make up for what that lousy bastard isn't able to give me." She leaned back. "Bet you're not like that. A real killer I bet. A girl's got to watch out for the quiet ones. Did I tell you I like it up the ass?"
"You did."
"I know I did." She shut her eyes and began giggling.
"I have a question. Maybe it's too personal."
"Go ahead. Try me."
"How to do you masturbate?"
"Bring myself off? Sure. I'll show you. No hands." She moved to the edge of the table, legs together, sitting up straight, eyes closed.
I almost missed the first one, there was a slight shudder and sway. She did another and I watched her face.
Someone shouted, "Holy shit, Alice is doing her trick. You got to see this."
Men crowded around.
Her face had smoothed and now glowed, like an angel's face in paintings I'd seen in books.
Betty stopped screaming and I turned and saw her taking on two, one at each end. I turned back to Alice and they had her off the table, bent over it, and were doing it the way she liked.
When I left, Betty was noticeably less vocally enthusiastic though very willing. Alice was still going strong.
I didn't get to ask Betty the question, she was too busy, and I didn't partake of either, deciding to try to be a little more selective. What Marianne (and Candy) offered was more appealing.
I never saw Alice again or came across another with her almost motionless way of bringing herself off. I ran into Betty but I'll leave that for later.
Candy was busy somewhere when I left the room at ten. I sat at a table in the pizzeria's dining area which seemed abandoned, no one at the counter, no one in the kitchen, lacking customers seemingly.
Candy eventually looked in, saw me and left without a word. She came back a while later in her street clothes, hair still in a ponytail.
"Sorry," she said. "It got hectic. You like your pizza?"
"It was interesting."
She raised her eyebrows. "Interesting? Come on." She grabbed my hand and we left. "Interesting? In what way? Did you kiss them?"
"Them?"
"Sure. The two of them."
"So you know."
"Sure I know. They're regulars. They'd do it for free which is okay. What was a slice?"
"Two dollars."
"So maybe fifty dollars. That's okay I guess." She swung my hand. "So what'd you do? If I may ask?" Another swing.
"Watch and talk. Only talked with Alice."
"No kisses, no nothing?"
"Just talk."
She let go of my hand. "That means we can't kiss."
"What do you mean?"
She rushed on ahead of me and turned back. "How could you?"
"What are you talking about?" I caught up with her and tried to imitate her fast pace.
"You didn't do anything at all."
"That's not true. I talked to Alice. I'm learning things. I just didn't feel like it."
"But you're supposed to do it. Why do you think I go to all the trouble? You just don't understand, do you?"
"Candy, hold up." I held her arm. "Stop a minute. There's no rush."
"I need to get home."
"I know that. What don't I understand?"
"I can't kiss you unless, you know, you," she waved a hand, "with someone."
"We can kiss right now."
"No we can't." She pulled away. "Don't you understand? I have to know you like me. Before I can, you know." She said this softly. "Kiss you."
"I kissed Marianne last night. Doesn't that count?"
"No. Don't you understand? That was yesterday. This is today."
"So if I'd stuck it to one of those—"
"Don't say that word. I mean it." She glared at me.
"Women. If I'd kissed one or both of them you'd let me kiss you now?"
"Sure. It's obvious. I'd know you liked me. I want you to be happy. If you're not happy, I'm not happy. How can you expect me to kiss you if I'm not happy?"
"Will you wait right here for a minute? Don't move."
"I have to go home."
"I'll be right back. In an instant. I mean I can't fib or something. I really have to do it."
"You can never lie. Not ever." She was sweetly serious.
"Stay here."
I ran back to Piacevole Pizza, only a block away. It was still empty of people, at least the front and kitchen. I went into the special room. There was still a crowd around Alice. Betty was being labored over by a single grunting man. I squeezed in and kissed her, silencing her for a brief moment. Her eyes flew open in surprise.
When I got back to Candy. She was smiling. "Now you can kiss me." She raised her mouth.
It was a great kiss. We had another.
"Was that our first fight?" I asked.
"A misunderstanding."
"I'll make sure to kiss Marianne tomorrow."
"She's expecting a good deal more, you know." Candy took my hand again, "She's a sweet girl," and we began walking.
1 I've deliberately not tried to imitate the words or language here. I don't think that way about women, usually, and anything I wrote would be forced and artificial. Insert what you want in these instances here and later. Return to story.
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