Chapter 3
The next day David went to work as usual. His jobs were all the usual ones. He sharpened pencils, got paper for the typist, mailed letters, delivered mail and as his brother once told him spent most of his time "wiping otherpeople's asses."
Richie told him then that David was ready to belt him in the mouth, but was able to restrain himself. Besides, he knew, it was true.
He did wipe other people's asses all day. long, and was paid just an average day's pay for it, too; even after eight years of it, David was jealous of his younger brother because he was able to get ahead much faster and much more easily.
Richie, at twenty, was a sophomore at the City University and was doing pretty well as a student. He had a part time job as a book keeper in a small supermarket and was getting a decent wage for a college student. What Richie made working fifteen hours his brother had to work twenty hours to make. This was another cause for jealousy between the two brothers.
The major cause, however, was Richie's ability to get girls to go to bed with him.
Richie was constantly relating stories about different girls he had known and had held. When David was nineteen and Richie was just fifteen, the latter informed the older brother of his first experience with intercourse ... the sexual kind.
One Saturday night, about two in the morning, in the early days of July Richie came home almost insane with excitement. David asked him what had happened.
Richie was reluctant to tell David, for fear he might turn around and tell his parents. But after many minutes of pleading by David, Richie extracted a firm promise that whatever was said that night would never leave the room. David swore, as he had been asked, and Richie told him.
Very quietly, almost in a whisper, he said "I got laid tonight!"
David's immediate reaction was disbelief. His fifteen year old brother couldn't get laid, not if he was nineteen and still hadn't had it.
"You're full of shit!" he exclaimed. "I don't believe a word of it!"
"It's true!" Richie demanded. "I met this girl at the church dance and I screwed her."
"All you did was go there and meet a girl and she said 'Oh, Richie, I want you to fuck me!"
"No, stupid," he explained, "after the dance I started walking her home. I was holding her hand, then I put my arm around her. When we passed the park where all the kids go I tell her 'let's sit down for a little while.'
"So we're sitting on this bench for maybe twenty minutes just kissing. Then I put my hand on her tits, and she doesn't stop me! So, then, I move my hand down to her cunt and press on it through the dress, and she still doesn't stop me!
"Finally, I take the chance. I put my hand under the dress and put my hand into her panties and then I stick my finger into her cunt.
"I almost dropped dead when I put my finger in! I thought I was gonna shoot right in my fuckin' pants. I'm sticking my finger in and out for maybe ten minutes. Then she starts makin' funny noises.
"Right away I pull my finger out 'cause I thought I was hurtin' her or somethin' but she tells me to keep goin' and to keep goin' even faster. I do like she says and a minute later she's pouring all over the damn place. On my finger, on her legs, everywhere. I thought, maybe, I busted her and she was bleeding to death, but she was havin' her orgasm.
"Anyway, she had her orgasm, and then she tells me she wants to play with my cock.
"I told her no. I was so fuckin' scared that maybe she had the syph or somethin' or that she was crazy and was gonna cut it off.
"She keeps askin' and as she's askin' her hands rubbin' the outside of my pants. I had a mother hard on like you wouldn't believe and she starts pullin' the zipper down. I told her I couldn't whip it out right here. What if somebody passes by, right?
"So then you know what she tells me?"
David, meanwhile, was fascinated by his story and he was unable, for a few seconds, to recognize the question.
"Well," Richie demanded, "do you know what she says?"
"No," David muttered weakly.
"She tells me that if we go to her apartment house there's this little room in the cellar near the washing machines that nobody ever uses and that we can go there.
"I ask her what for and she says that nobody will ever bother us there, no matter what we do. She starts smiling and almost laughing.
"Anyway, I go with her to the apartment house and down to the cellar. It was really fuckin' dark. I couldn't see a damn thing, but she knows where she's going, and so I follow her.
"Finally we come to this door. She opens it and tells me to come in with her. She flicks the switch real fast to see if there's anybody there. There's no one, so she turns off the light again. She's leading me through the dark; the only light is somethin' coming from this little window high up the wall and it took me a couple of minutes before I could almost make things out, and even then things were only shadows.
"As soon as we get into the room she grabs my cock and tries gettin' it outta my pants. In a split second I got my pants down around my knees. She starts playin' with my soft cock and as soon as she touched it it started gettin' hard.
"As soon as it's hard as a rock she starts jerkin' me off. I was so fuckin' excited that I shot all over her hand and on the floor and everyplace.
"Then she tells me that I gotta fuck her! Right after I shot! I told her that my cock was too sensitive and that she's gotta wait a little while.
"She tells me that if I don't fuck her now she's gonna leave. Right away she pulled her dress over her hips and pulls her panties down. She lays down on a bench and tells me to put it in her. I walk over and get between her legs. Finally I put my cock in and start humpin' on her. My cock was hurtin' like a bastard for a while, but then it starts feelin' really fuckin' good.
"She puts her legs around me and starts making noises again. I tell her to shut up or else somebody'll hear us and catch us. I was really scared, but I wanted to fuck her too, so it didn't make any difference.
"I keep pounding my cock into her until, like after ten minutes, I shoot. I thought I was gonna bust with all the scum that came pumping outta me.
"After I shot I try to get outta her cunt, but she tells me that she didn't come yet and that I gotta keep goin' until she does.
"My fuckin' cock was killin' me, but I kept on goin' in and out until she finally comes again.
"After all that I tell her to give me her phone number and she tells me no, but if I want I can meet her someplace next week. I told her that I could meet her at the next church dance and she says okay and that was that."
David was interested and excited by his younger brother's story. His erection was outlined through his pants and he wanted to run to the bathroom and jerk off.
"Well, Dave, do you believe me?"
David nodded and asked "how old is the girl?"
"She's fifteen. I think. I'm not sure. But who gives a shit?"
"Well," David concluded, "my little brother finally grew up." He spoke with a sickly smile that was so fake it was obvious to Richie.
"What's the matter with you?" Richie asked noticing the expression on David's face.
"Nothin'. "
"How was it the first time you got laid?" Richie asked.
David was shocked and unprepared by the question. Immediately things went through his mind about the way he would lie to his brother.
"I mean, you got laid, didn't you."
"Sure!" he exclaimed. "Then how was it?"
"I got it," he lied, "When I was fourteen..."
"Fourteen!? " Richie interrupted.
"Yeah. I was going with this chick for a few months. We were in high school. At least I was in high school. She was in Junior High.
"Then one night we go to her house and there's nobody home. I start playing with her tits and her cunt and when I try to put my cock in she doesn't stop me and I fucked her, and that was it."
"Did you ever screw her again?" Richie demanded.
For a few moments David couldn't answer, but finally, all he could say was a simple "Yes."
"How many times?"
David's lies were getting away with him. "After that night I fucked her at least two or three times a week."
"Wow!" Richie exclaimed, obviously impressed.
David was becoming excited and interested in his own tale and decided to continue telling it.
"I went with that girl for more than a year. I thought she was pregnant once."
"Was she really pregnant, now?" Richie interrupted.
"No, but by that time I was gettin' bored with her and her friends."
"Her friends?"
"Yeah, sometimes I used to fuck her and then some of her friends would come by and I would fuck them too. They used to blow me and I used to eat them out."
Richie was sitting on the edge of his bed waiting for more exciting details.
"After her I found this other girl who was sixteen. I was fifteen, but she didn't mind. She said I had a bigger cock than most of the eighteen year olds she knew. I fucked her about a dozen times a week. Every time I saw her I had to screw her and she loved it.
"I went with this chick for more than two and a half years. I stopped seein' her about three months ago, and since then I haven't had it at all."
"How come you stopped seein' that girl."
"You see, she had somethin' wrong with her cunt. I don't know what it was, but they put her in the hospital so she could get rid of it. When I found that she was sick I decided to cut out."
"And you haven't had it since?"
"Nope," said David acting terribly depressed about the fact.
That night in the park was the first time for Richie and the first time David had lied about it. Ever since that night he was constantly making up stories about his sexual conquests to his brother and to David's friends.
The story was told so often by David that sometimes even he believed it to be true. But each time he completed relating the 'incident' he would become terribly depressed and, more often than not, would return home and find himself masturbating for self-pity and for release of his sexual tension.
At noon, that Friday, Mrs. Walters asked if he would like to go to the luncheonette with her.
"Are you going shopping again?" he asked recalling that they had gone the day before.
"No, just going to get something to eat, and I thought you might like to come with me."
David accepted graciously and when the noon whistle blew in the factory, which was more than a mile away, everyone evacuated the office as if the lunch whistle was an air raid warning.
Most of the twenty five office workers always went to the same luncheonette directly across from the office building. Some, including David and Mrs. Walters, occasionally would bother walking an extra two blocks to another luncheonette.
That Friday David and Mrs. Walters and two other workers went to the other luncheonette. Most of the forty-five minutes they spent sitting was occupied with Mrs. Walters relating her problems for the hundredth time.
The two secretaries were bored with her old story and ignored it as graciously as they possibly could. David, however, was always interested in hearing about it and listened intently.
As Mrs. Walters spoke she noticed that the only one interested in her monologue was David, so now, instead of moving her head from side to side, she directed all her statements at David.
As he ate he felt sorry for her. At first he thought the food was disagreeing with him, but he recalled that he had the same sensation each time he heard the story.
At five minutes before one they all left; the two secretaries taking the lead with David and Mrs. Walters following a few paces behind.
"David," she began, very pathetically, "I'm always so lonely."
"Gee," he said, "I wish I could help you."
"No one," she began as she pulled a handkerchief from her purse, "can help me."
Her eyes glassed up and it seemed as if she were going to cry.
"Don't cry, Mrs. Walters," David suggested.
"I'm sorry that I'm always burdening you with my problems, but it's just that I have no one else to turn to."
"What about your daughter?"
"She's much too young to understand."
"Haven't you ever considered remarrying?"
"Oh, David," she exclaimed, "who wants to marry a thirty nine year old widow with a grown daughter. Besides, I'm not as attractive as I used to be."
"I think you're very attractive."
"You're just saying that to make me feel good, aren't you?"
"No, I really mean it. If you weren't older than me I'd take you out."
"You would? You mean you really would?"
"Yes," he said sensing that he was getting himself into something he wasn't quite prepared for.
"Would you like to take me out?"
"Well ... I mean ... it's just that...."
"I thought so. You were just trying to be nice to an old lady."
"Stop calling yourself an old lady!" David demanded. "You look as young as any of the girls I go out with now."
"Thank you," she said sarcastically.
"No! I really mean it, and just to prove it to you I will take you out."
"What are you talking about?"
"I mean I want you to go out with me tonight. That is, if you can."
"Of course I can! I'd love to!"
"Good, then all you have to do is give me your address and then I'll pick you up."
"But I have one problem."
"What's that?" he asked, hoping that it would be a major difficulty forcing her to stay home that night.
"My daughter. If I go out that means I'll have to leave her home alone. I-I know my daughter she'll be out of the house two seconds after we leave and won't get back until two in the morning."
"Well, what can you do?"
"I know!" she said, suddenly inspired, "I'll make dinner for you at my house tonight and then we can sit and listen to records or talk or do something else. Just as long as I can keep an eye on my daughter."
David nodded in agreement as she gave him directions to her apartment house and also informing him that he should make an appearance at eight o'clock.
When they returned to the office building Mrs. Walters was elated that she would now be having a guest after so many years. She realized that it was just David, but she also realized that it was better than nothing and would try to make the most of the situation.
For the next four hours, until five o'clock David pondered about the impending dinner. He expected it to be quite boring, and, most likely, nothing would come of it. Another three hours of hearing about Mrs. Walters problems.
Well, he decided, he would dress really sharp for the lady to show her that although he may be dumb he was still good looking.
At five o'clock Mrs. Walters waited for David to get ready before she decided to leave. She cornered him in the elevator and told him, again, the place and the time.
David promised not to be late and when the elevator reached the lobby they walked in opposite directions.
At home, David's mother had dinner prepared for him on the table and he told her to forget about it.
"You're not gonna' eat tonight?" she demanded.
"No, man, I got a date with some girl and I'm gonna eat over at her house."
"Whatsamatter? My food ain't no good for you no more?"
"Ya know what that means, don't you?" Without waiting for an answer from David she answered it herself. "It means that I gotta throw away all this good food."
"Why throw it away? Save it for Richie. He's gotta eat too, you know."
"Richie's goin' to the movies with Susan."
"It figures," he said as he walked from the kitchen and into his bedroom. There was an additional resentment building up, but he decided to let it pass.
He quickly stripped, showered, and dressed for the impending dinner with Mrs. Walters. As the time approached that he would have to leave his home and go to hers greater resentment was swelling up as well as a nice headache.
Before he left he gulped two aspirin with a glass of water and told his mother he wouldn't be back until late. David had already planned out his evening.
He would go to Mrs. Walters apartment, have dinner, then try to leave as soon as she would let him and head for Sams. Tonight was the night David was going to get plowed.