ear. Her hands were wiggling down to the front of my pants and my zipper. “You make me want to do things.”
I began to panic. I was most assuredly not in the same mindset as Rosemary. Her hands had undone my fly and were working their way in past the elastic of my underwear. There would be no more mystery if she went any further.
“Wait, wait!” I said, pulling her hands free from my pants.
“That’s…um…not the way… I…uh…” I didn’t know what to say.
A sheepish grin. “Oh, I gotcha. Here, let me help.”
With that she took my hand and guided it to her shorts. She unzipped them, lay down on the bed and pulled them halfway down. She tugged my fingers up under her linen panties. Taking my first two fingers she pushed them inside her. It was very hot. Very sticky. She manipulated my hand deeper inside her and then began thrusting them back and forth as she writhed and sighed in rhythm.
“Oh my God, you’re amazing!” her voice gurgled.
This didn’t feel right to me. It made me uneasy. Nauseous. I pulled my
ha is killing me.”
“This isn’t right,” I said. “I can’t…I can’t do this!” I wiped my fingers on the comforter. I had made her intimate touch just look nasty.
Rosemary sat up abruptly, her back against the headboard. She looked to be in shock. Then in confusion. “What’s the matter? What did I do?” She reached toward me and I pulled back and away to the end of the bed.
“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” I felt genuinely sick.
She was pulling her clothing back up, looking hurt and desperate. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go that fast. I just thought…”
I could see her start to cry. The whole thing had gone so wrong. This wasn’t the way I wanted it to happen.
She reached for me. I jumped up and toward the door. “It’s not your fault. It’s just not right…” my voice trailed off. I felt like I was going to throw up.
My stomach turned. I ran to the bathroom, slammed the door, and bent over the toilet. I began to heave. Nothing came up. I continued to heave.
“David, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She was at the door, and she was sobbing. “What can I do? What…can…I… do?”
I had no answer to give. This was all my fault. Not hers.
I heard her place her hand on the door. “David, I’m going to call my dad and have him pick me up.”
I didn’t answer.
“I’m sorry.”
I heard her descend the stairs and make the call. I sat on the floor by the toilet and tried not to think. Half an hour later happily ever after. It would be a nice thing to know.”
A blackness crept over me. But I couldn’t cry. I was caught in a web of loathing; I knew I’d done something terribly wrong. Someone left in pain because of my actions. I eased myself into bed and welcomed the eraser of sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
My eyes flickered open with the alarm clock set for my early morning run. But the first thing that entered my thoughts was the evening before. And it colored my mood. I wanted to set things right with Rosemary. I didn’t have a clue how.
I jogged through the dark, street-lamp lit streets to Ryan’s house and found him waiting for me on the porch. He was happy to see me. We ran in silence. We passed the ballpark and the water fountain this time and went right over the bridge, past the tracks. He didn’t have any stitches in his side this round. We kept a good pace, but neither one of us attempted a conversation.
The morning started much hotter and we were perspiring freely. On the return, we stopped on the bridge where we had the day before to watch the sunrise again. He pulled off his shirt to wipe his face.
He was the first to break the silence. “I didn’t think you’d come,” he said, eyes taking in the sunrise that was pure gold in the sky.
“Why?”
“Just didn’t.”
“I told you I would.”
“I’m glad you did.”
I enthusiasdi. My mind watched birds flying over the railroad tracks; watched trains move below. Thought
I began to panic. I was most assuredly not in the same mindset as Rosemary. Her hands had undone my fly and were working their way in past the elastic of my underwear. There would be no more mystery if she went any further.
“Wait, wait!” I said, pulling her hands free from my pants.
“That’s…um…not the way… I…uh…” I didn’t know what to say.
A sheepish grin. “Oh, I gotcha. Here, let me help.”
With that she took my hand and guided it to her shorts. She unzipped them, lay down on the bed and pulled them halfway down. She tugged my fingers up under her linen panties. Taking my first two fingers she pushed them inside her. It was very hot. Very sticky. She manipulated my hand deeper inside her and then began thrusting them back and forth as she writhed and sighed in rhythm.
“Oh my God, you’re amazing!” her voice gurgled.
This didn’t feel right to me. It made me uneasy. Nauseous. I pulled my
ha is killing me.”
“This isn’t right,” I said. “I can’t…I can’t do this!” I wiped my fingers on the comforter. I had made her intimate touch just look nasty.
Rosemary sat up abruptly, her back against the headboard. She looked to be in shock. Then in confusion. “What’s the matter? What did I do?” She reached toward me and I pulled back and away to the end of the bed.
“I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” I felt genuinely sick.
She was pulling her clothing back up, looking hurt and desperate. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go that fast. I just thought…”
I could see her start to cry. The whole thing had gone so wrong. This wasn’t the way I wanted it to happen.
She reached for me. I jumped up and toward the door. “It’s not your fault. It’s just not right…” my voice trailed off. I felt like I was going to throw up.
My stomach turned. I ran to the bathroom, slammed the door, and bent over the toilet. I began to heave. Nothing came up. I continued to heave.
“David, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She was at the door, and she was sobbing. “What can I do? What…can…I… do?”
I had no answer to give. This was all my fault. Not hers.
I heard her place her hand on the door. “David, I’m going to call my dad and have him pick me up.”
I didn’t answer.
“I’m sorry.”
I heard her descend the stairs and make the call. I sat on the floor by the toilet and tried not to think. Half an hour later happily ever after. It would be a nice thing to know.”
A blackness crept over me. But I couldn’t cry. I was caught in a web of loathing; I knew I’d done something terribly wrong. Someone left in pain because of my actions. I eased myself into bed and welcomed the eraser of sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
My eyes flickered open with the alarm clock set for my early morning run. But the first thing that entered my thoughts was the evening before. And it colored my mood. I wanted to set things right with Rosemary. I didn’t have a clue how.
I jogged through the dark, street-lamp lit streets to Ryan’s house and found him waiting for me on the porch. He was happy to see me. We ran in silence. We passed the ballpark and the water fountain this time and went right over the bridge, past the tracks. He didn’t have any stitches in his side this round. We kept a good pace, but neither one of us attempted a conversation.
The morning started much hotter and we were perspiring freely. On the return, we stopped on the bridge where we had the day before to watch the sunrise again. He pulled off his shirt to wipe his face.
He was the first to break the silence. “I didn’t think you’d come,” he said, eyes taking in the sunrise that was pure gold in the sky.
“Why?”
“Just didn’t.”
“I told you I would.”
“I’m glad you did.”
I enthusiasdi. My mind watched birds flying over the railroad tracks; watched trains move below. Thought
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