1988 was a weird time to be a 25 year-old woman.
Something was in the wind those years as we made our way through the local bars, danced, flirted
and drank. I'm still not sure to this day what it was but my friends and I smelled it. Those
waning days of the decade were swirling around us so quickly that it was no real surprise I was
drawn to Ronald even more so then I normally would have been. Drawn to accept his whispered invite
that Friday night in late September as I stood on the pulsing dance-floor.
Drawn to a terrible dance with him, to execute steps I normally would not have attempted. Drawn
to the impossible that has stained my life up until this very day.
"We should really get together," he said, as I stood with my back to him. I was, and
had been, well aware of Ronald and his buddies standing behind me; the eyes at the back of my
head had grown wide by the time I had reached this age.
Given all we had to worry about those days-out of college now and making our slow way in our
jobs-Friday nights my friends and I did our best to pack in as much time in self-imposed "clubbing"
as we could. Some would say it was conceit that we held so close to our velour sweaters, a sense
of over-indulged importance that undulated between our legs as we spun under the quick strobes,
but it was the only way a self-respecting suburban girl could survive.
Ronald's buddies courted their own swagger, I spied them often enough in the local "scene",
but the tall guy was unlike most of his group in the quiet way he carried himself...and of course
this difference had always made him that much more attractive to me.
I was tickled when I felt his quick breath on the back of my neck.
"Hmm," I said into my straw, not sipping my cranberry and vodka.
"I could give you the massage of your life," the pale-faced boy suggested and the way
those words rolled off his tongue, the manner in which he made this suggestion sound so matter-of-fact
and at the same time, so God awful filthy, left me no choice but to turn, smile hard and say:
"Better watch-out, I may take you up on that!"
"I was hoping you would."
Leaning into me then, Ronald kissed me quickly on the cheek, then stood back up. My knees nearly
gave under me as I placed my wet glass to the wooden waist-high runner around the dance-floor,
turned, smiled up at Ronald and we left the bar!
"It's more then just knowing what a woman wants..." Ronald was explaining a half hour
later.
Pressing the soft flesh of my inner thighs with his strong thumbs, the pinpoint pressure was
nearly un-bearable. Had I not been naked-my muscles easing and hot as all hell-I may have had
the energy to have made Ronald stop what he was doing...if I had a care to!
Getting me out of my clothes hadn't been hard. Ronald said he wanted to massage me; he had been
emphatic on this point as he drove me to his two-room apartment, his tiny blue eyes glaring in
approaching headlights as he demurely dipped his head in their passing, his heavy brow intent
on driving and convincing.
Not knowing exactly what was expected of me-other then to lay there and enjoy a massage-I had
decided to spark a bit of a dare myself. Asking Ronald to turn while I lay down and "got
ready", I had stripped completely and lay on my belly across his high futon! When I called
for him to turn, holding my breath in the sweet second for him to see my bare ass and freckled
back, I was disappointed when Ronald simply settled to the side of the couch without a word.
He put his big hands to my bare back and actually did begin massaging me!
Shit, what was up? I have a great ass!
Ronald's stroke was cautious, as if he was waiting to retreat at my slightest negative reaction,
but at the same time he circled his big hands across me as if he knew I would never fight him.
I was alive under him, my entire body warm-not just the places he was working-and soon I was
both turned-on and at ease, a combination I found delicious, if not downright unusual. Five minutes
later Ronald had scooted down to knead my thighs. His fingers only a whisper away when he ran
his hands up my legs; let's face it, he had to have felt my heat! But as he needled me then with
his thumbs, he simply cooed in my ear and continued speaking:
"Limits must be respected. Trust earned. But in the end, I want to feel what a woman desires."
This
said, Ronald riddled his strong hands up as high as he had yet ventured, grabbing the spot where
my thighs and ass met, spreading my legs even wider. I gulped in answer as the cool air hit my
clopping wetness.
I was more then ready for what was coming.
But with a slight audible sigh, Ronald released my legs and placed the heel of each of his palms
deep into my ass cheeks!
What could I do? He didn't want to touch me there just yet. He had to have been aware of the
smell of my sex in the air; had to have been watching my ass quiver; my back dip; my blonde hair
ever so lightly sweeping across my shoulders (hell, the image of myself lying there like that
was getting me wet!). So what was happening here?!
I thought of turning to him, presenting my pointy, yet firm tits and my trimmed blonde bush.
But pride halted me. Being denied while laying there bare-assed on my belly was one thing, but
open on my back would have killed me for sure! With no other avenue allowed me, I focused on
Ronald's Spartan surroundings as he softly massaged my ass.
Ronald's place offered not a clue as to his personality. There was a small, yet immaculate functional
kitchen off to the right of this main room which I realized doubled as his bedroom and living-room.
No television, a few crates lined with books, a simple glass coffee table, a reading lamp over
this couch/bed I lay across and a shaded window on the wall opposite. Forget pictures, or keepsakes,
Hummels or even a trophy (hadn't I heard something about college hockey?).
This was an apartment fit for its quiet owner.
"It's just so tricky to make that connection," he continued, his voice far away.
"So hard to find it."
I was loving the attention, I really was, but what was he going on about? I mean, I was interested
in what this man had to say as much as I was in the man himself, but it was damn hard to concentrate
with his kneading my butt and the little circles I was trying to execute pressing my pelvis into
his bed. Couldn't he tell I was here for him, I mean really here, ready? There were not many
guys I'd lay down naked under our first time alone. Knowing Ronald as one of the 'guys' helped
me to feel safe here, but was I too safe?
"Maybe you want too much," I tried, not too sure what I was saying, but hoping I was
offering something useful.
His hands fluttered, then stilled. I felt Ronald shift on the bed and dammit, if I didn't think
he was about to get up!
Jesus, he was actually talking about something here and I had just insulted him!
"Ron..." I said to the pillow. "...I'm trying to understand, I really am..."
Up on my elbows then, I looked back at him and saw him kneeling behind me, his red face to his
chest. "...but whether you like it, or know it, this massage is making me crazy! I'm interested
honey, I really am," I continued, laying back down again. "But it's a bit hard to concentrate
with you touching me like this!"
I counted those painful stupid thirty seconds. I knew I had ripped asunder any chance of keeping
to our unspoken decorum, but there is only so much a red-blooded girl can I handle! If Ronald
wanted to ignore the fact that I wanted him, now or before, that I had placed myself here, below
him and naked because of the hope of fucking him, he couldn't now. I mean, I knew he had something
on his mind, and he was a gentleman, but okay already!!!
"See..."
he said. I felt him move over me once again. His hands hit my ass and he continued with the massage
as if he had never left...or I hadn't just revealed my desire. "...that's just my point."
"Yeah?" I asked, as he kneaded my tight cheeks and I began my tiny circles yet again.
"You feel what you feel...and I'm glad I am making you feel it. Truly I am."
Well, score one for the home team, I said to myself. He likes that he's getting to me!
"But will you allow me to feel it?!"
Honey, you can feel anything you want! I shouted to myself. Let him ramble, I thought, just as
long as he finally, finally, FINALLY fucking touches my pussy!!!
Shifting my butt, trying my best at an involuntary clenching and unclenching of my little ass,
I offered:
"Whatever you want honey. I'll do whatever you want."
"That's a dangerous proposition Claire," and with that said Ronald proceeded to trace
the tip of his middle finger along the tight crack of my ass!
"Oh God," I giggled, as Ronald shifted on the futon once more.
"I want so much more then you are used to giving," he added, his strong finger slowly
working between my cheeks.
"Yes," I agreed. "Oh God, Yes. Yes."
I felt a quick distant shutter of fear. I had only had anal sex a few times in my life and while
each progressing experience had been better then the last I still held some trepidation. Not
enough to want Ronald to take his finger from my ass, or have him stop pushing its tip deeper
into me.
"I'm not your usual," Ronald offered, not a hint of conceit in his voice. His woodsy
sent filled the room as the futon squeaked, his coarse flannel shirt sleeves rode my back and
then his big free hand was in my hair and he was pulling my head back to him.
"You have no idea what will happen here Claire," he whispered. "Or perhaps you
do know," he insisted as he held my head there, my neck aching a twinge.
With one hand gripping my hair, while the middle finger of the other was planted between my cheeks,
I was about as captured, terrified and horny as I had ever been.
"Do not fear me," he said, as I stared back up at him hard. "There are the blood-sucking
fiends you have come to know, but I am not one of that type."
Christ, I saw it! I really saw it! In his ruddy complexion, in his deep eyes. Ronald was something
beyond...well, beyond! I know that sounds nuts, but I knew here was a type of man I had never
encountered before. But what was it that made him he I had no idea.
Jesus Christ! What the fuck was I doing!
I tried to free myself from his grasp. I tried to thrash, but it was impossible.
"If you truly have no desire for me, I will let you go," he said and I felt the grip
on my hair loosen, his finger up my ass retreat.
"But know these few things. First, I am not here to hurt you. Second, I picked you because
I thought maybe, just maybe, you were the right woman to experience this, the type of woman who
could appreciate the exchange for what it was, and not make more of it. And I thought that maybe,
possibly, hopefully, you might believe."
"Whatever happens, no harm will come to you," he added, releasing my hair then.
"I don't know if I..." I tried, slowly turning to him...decorum be damned. God, I was
so damn wet!
"...understand or even believe," he answered for me. "Yes, I know. But later you
will add the facts together: never seeing me during the day; not knowing anymore about me then
what you know from the bar and from hearsay. You will add those facts to what you now feel and
are even now trying to deny."
"Ronald," I gulped, looking up at his deep face, those eyes, the intent on this sexy
man who might just very well be the craziest person I had ever met.
"I am not that type you have come to know," he continued. "They are out there
for sure, but they are squirreled away among the portion of society that are easy prey to them;
believe me you are not. I feast on another type of life's blood if you will. Desire is what I
need; true, wanton, undiluted sexual desire."
"You won't hurt me," I said-not asking. Jesus Christ, was this me talking?!
I felt Ronald shift and then his naked body was pressed against me; some time during the conversation
and the massage, he had unzipped and unbuttoned. I turned fully then. His heavy chest brushed
against mine, his long thighs over my own, his thick cock growing against my dewy patch of pubic
hair. Breathing a scent I could not place, managing my eye-lids open only enough so I could see
him over me, Ronald and I kissed. His tongue found mine and I was taken away on a thick breeze.
I reeled and this lanky man caught me as I realized I was no longer a rational lady.
"I will give as much as I take," Ronald said and dipped his pelvis to enter me.
That night with Ronald was glorious. His love-making was furious, as if when he finally entered
me a light was turned on in his brain and he had to plow me for all he was worth. I remember
his thick cock nearly hurting me as he thrusted and the recall of his fast pumping is one of
my fondest sexual memories. And although his pace was a bit too quick for my tastes (especially
now some ten years on) I remember that night and the boy quite fondly.
When I look back at that time, studying pictures of my school friends, try to fit into old mini-skirts,
I realize it was all just pure fun. Lets' face it, we all had an act then, a line, a style, a
way in and a way out; not just guys play that advantage. Being a sexually active woman I know
that I was seen by many men as a threat; I can understand Ronald feeling he had to evoke a fantasy
just to get past my confidence. That Ronald did so-in the bar, to me, to all that met him-made
me realize how insecure he really was. I never saw him again after that one night of ours and
somehow was glad I hadn't.
But today when the paper arrived, when I glanced at that month-long running piece in the section
marked "In Our Town" and I saw that picture, I had no choice but to rethink my opinion
about Ronald, the self-proclaimed vampire. I've mentally scolded myself many times for allowing
Ronald to fill me with as much of his talk as he did his sperm (although in a condom he produced
to be sure), but today my best (and worst) fears were vindicated.
Under the heading "Old Crimson Bridge Crew" I stare at a grainy black and white photo
from 1888 and there second to the right, wearing a helmet and overalls, staring back at me with
those deep blue eyes, is Ronald! Youthful, oddly handsome, chubby cheeks; the boy I knew ten
years before, looking the same.
And I have to wonder, is it a coincidence that I have never gained a pound since that night in
1988? That those mini-skirts still fit, my skin is unlined and I feel as young as I did at 25?
Ronald had said he was going to "give as much as I take".
Had he?
I have no fear at this moment as I face the bright early morning sunshine.
(c) Ralph Greco Jnr, All Rights Reserved
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