Joanie sucked in her breath and continued at top speed. “So, anyway, when I met him he was this BMOC and I was... well... I was this chick who’d been real popular in high school, especially with guys. Uhm... well, maybe I’ll go into that more another time. So, we meet at this party and, well, of course I know who he is, but he doesn’t know me from a hole in the wall. Still, I can tell he’s attracted to me right away. We start talking and pretty soon, I say, ‘Let’s split and go up to my room and smoke a joint.’ Well, it was like he expected me to say this. He didn’t seem at all surprised or think I was being too aggressive or anything. So we go to my room, get stoned, and we ball. Actually, we ball most of the night. Seems like he must have come three or four times in all. As for me, I was feeling, well... I guess I did see it as kind of a conquest... I mean THE Jake DiAngelis, you know?”
"Whoah, Joanie! Hold on. That record needle's bugging me. How 'bout a new record?"
"Huh?" Joanie was so caught up in her memories that the repetitive buzz and click of the end of the record had failed to penetrate her consciousness. Now, Annie's request brought her down to Earth and she heard it.
"Oh yeah... sure."
She rose to her feet, a bit unsteadily and walked over to the record player where she removed the offending record and tossed it on top of its jacket on the table. Quickly scanning the other albums lying there, she didn't see anything she felt like listening to. Then, in her mind, she heard the seductive pleadings of the Mick Jagger from earlier on the party. Smiling, she squatted in front of the shelf that held most of her albums and quickly flipped through them until she came to the one she was looking for.
"Yes!" she exclaimed, as she stood up.
The familiar sound of the Rolling Stones filled the room.
Joanie smiled and turned back to Annie. "How's that?" she asked.
Annie smiled back, although she seemed a little taken aback by Joanie's selection. "Yeah, great, babe... uh... but.. well, never mind."
Joanie danced her way over to where Annie was still sitting and, surprising herself, she reached her hands down to Annie, "C'mon, let's dance!"
She pulled Annie to her feet and the two of them began to dance together, close, eye-to-eye, but not quite touching. Joanie snapped her fingers to the infectious drumbeat and her feet kept time with the rhythm of the bass line. The rest of her body meanwhile swayed to the sexuality of the melody and its words, almost as if in counterpoint. Her eyes met Annie’s, who appeared to regard Joanie in amazement, as though she were wondering if this was really the same woman who earlier had been so afraid of being seduced by her.
Although absorbed in the music, Joanie found herself fascinated by Annie's dancing, so different from her own. The motions of Annie's larger, more voluptuous body seemed quite disconnected from either the beat or the words of the song playing. Her feet were more or less planted on the floor, her hips moving simultaneously to and fro and back and forth in a kind of figure eight in space. Her large tanned arms, raised over her head, swayed slowly from side to side, like a giant underwater kelp being swept by the waves. Her eyes were closed now, and a dreamy smile played over her startlingly beautiful face. Joanie was intrigued. It was as though Annie were dancing to a song of her own, one without a beat and with an altogether different message. What was that message, Joanie wondered?
Now, as Joanie continued to watch Annie dance, she saw her slowly lower her arms and cover her large breasts with her hands. Joanie stopped dancing and just stared. Annie was massaging her own breasts in the most extraordinarily sensual way. The expression on her face altered. No longer a dream-like smile, her face had taken on an intense look of pleasure, building in the way Joanie associated with guys approaching orgasm when she gave them blowjobs. She was amazed and...she had to admit it, once again,... turned on.
No! She just couldn't handle it! Not with a woman! Joanie turned away from Annie and walked quickly toward the bathroom. As she did so, she called back over her shoulder in an attempt to break the spell Annie seemed to be in, "Hey! Sorry but I gotta' pee."
Annie must not have heard her because she didn't respond. At the bathroom door, Joanie turned and looked back. Annie had dropped to her knees. Her eyes were still closed, her face contorted with pleasure. Her left hand was massaging her right breast, but her right hand was reaching between her legs, having previously hiked up her long skirt to reveal oversized white men's cotton briefs. Joanie was shocked, as she watched Annie lower herself to the floor, roll onto her back and pull aside the baggy underwear to reveal her bushy black crotch. Joanie continued staring, as she saw Annie plunge almost her entire hand into her vagina, leaving free only her thumb with which she now began to vigorously rub her clit.
Finally, it was Annie's moaning that broke Joanie's concentration. She had never heard a woman experiencing such pleasure. Nor had she ever felt so disturbed by anything she had heard or seen. She stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door hard behind her, shaking the door frame and making a sound like a gunshot. She was sure Annie had heard that and hoped it would cause her to stop.
O.K., she thought. There's nothing wrong with masturbating. God knows, I've done it often enough... but by myself for Chrissakes! Annie's doing it there in my room with me standing right here, watching her... well, that just sucks!
Joanie felt violated, as though both her personal space and her body had been invaded by some obscene force. She heard herself mutter half-aloud, "I mean who the hell does she think she is to come here and do that... especially when I told her how scared I was of... of... Well, what is it exactly I'm scared of?"
Joanie pulled up her skirt to pee and eased herself onto the toilet. Her heart was beating erratically and her mind was racing too fast for her to grab hold of any single thought for more than a moment. Images of her own sexual experiences careened through her head. Blow jobs, fucks, sixty-nining, more blowjobs... yeah, mostly blowjobs. And in all these images, she searched desperately for signs of her own pleasure... for sounds like those she'd heard from Annie moments earlier in the other room. She heard only the sounds of the guys... their panting, their moaning, their grunts, their screams. Where was her voice, her pleasure?
Joanie's face fell toward her lap as she burst into tears, sobbing. "Nowhere, she thought. “No sounds of pleasure from me! No pleasure for me! None!"
Instead, the sounds she heard were coming through the door from the other room ... the last, fading, pleading, words from Mick Jagger.
Links
The Rolling Stones
Joanie smiled and turned back to Annie. "How's that?" she asked.
Annie smiled back, although she seemed a little taken aback by Joanie's selection. "Yeah, great, babe... uh... but.. well, never mind."
Joanie danced her way over to where Annie was still sitting and, surprising herself, she reached her hands down to Annie, "C'mon, let's dance!"
She pulled Annie to her feet and the two of them began to dance together, close, eye-to-eye, but not quite touching. Joanie snapped her fingers to the infectious drumbeat and her feet kept time with the rhythm of the bass line. The rest of her body meanwhile swayed to the sexuality of the melody and its words, almost as if in counterpoint. Her eyes met Annie’s, who appeared to regard Joanie in amazement, as though she were wondering if this was really the same woman who earlier had been so afraid of being seduced by her.
Although absorbed in the music, Joanie found herself fascinated by Annie's dancing, so different from her own. The motions of Annie's larger, more voluptuous body seemed quite disconnected from either the beat or the words of the song playing. Her feet were more or less planted on the floor, her hips moving simultaneously to and fro and back and forth in a kind of figure eight in space. Her large tanned arms, raised over her head, swayed slowly from side to side, like a giant underwater kelp being swept by the waves. Her eyes were closed now, and a dreamy smile played over her startlingly beautiful face. Joanie was intrigued. It was as though Annie were dancing to a song of her own, one without a beat and with an altogether different message. What was that message, Joanie wondered?
Now, as Joanie continued to watch Annie dance, she saw her slowly lower her arms and cover her large breasts with her hands. Joanie stopped dancing and just stared. Annie was massaging her own breasts in the most extraordinarily sensual way. The expression on her face altered. No longer a dream-like smile, her face had taken on an intense look of pleasure, building in the way Joanie associated with guys approaching orgasm when she gave them blowjobs. She was amazed and...she had to admit it, once again,... turned on.
No! She just couldn't handle it! Not with a woman! Joanie turned away from Annie and walked quickly toward the bathroom. As she did so, she called back over her shoulder in an attempt to break the spell Annie seemed to be in, "Hey! Sorry but I gotta' pee."
Annie must not have heard her because she didn't respond. At the bathroom door, Joanie turned and looked back. Annie had dropped to her knees. Her eyes were still closed, her face contorted with pleasure. Her left hand was massaging her right breast, but her right hand was reaching between her legs, having previously hiked up her long skirt to reveal oversized white men's cotton briefs. Joanie was shocked, as she watched Annie lower herself to the floor, roll onto her back and pull aside the baggy underwear to reveal her bushy black crotch. Joanie continued staring, as she saw Annie plunge almost her entire hand into her vagina, leaving free only her thumb with which she now began to vigorously rub her clit.
Finally, it was Annie's moaning that broke Joanie's concentration. She had never heard a woman experiencing such pleasure. Nor had she ever felt so disturbed by anything she had heard or seen. She stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door hard behind her, shaking the door frame and making a sound like a gunshot. She was sure Annie had heard that and hoped it would cause her to stop.
O.K., she thought. There's nothing wrong with masturbating. God knows, I've done it often enough... but by myself for Chrissakes! Annie's doing it there in my room with me standing right here, watching her... well, that just sucks!
Joanie felt violated, as though both her personal space and her body had been invaded by some obscene force. She heard herself mutter half-aloud, "I mean who the hell does she think she is to come here and do that... especially when I told her how scared I was of... of... Well, what is it exactly I'm scared of?"
Joanie pulled up her skirt to pee and eased herself onto the toilet. Her heart was beating erratically and her mind was racing too fast for her to grab hold of any single thought for more than a moment. Images of her own sexual experiences careened through her head. Blow jobs, fucks, sixty-nining, more blowjobs... yeah, mostly blowjobs. And in all these images, she searched desperately for signs of her own pleasure... for sounds like those she'd heard from Annie moments earlier in the other room. She heard only the sounds of the guys... their panting, their moaning, their grunts, their screams. Where was her voice, her pleasure?
Joanie's face fell toward her lap as she burst into tears, sobbing. "Nowhere, she thought. “No sounds of pleasure from me! No pleasure for me! None!"
Instead, the sounds she heard were coming through the door from the other room ... the last, fading, pleading, words from Mick Jagger.
Links
The Rolling Stones
Go to the next scene in Joanie's story
January 6: Joanie, Scene 1 To Come
Go to the previous scene in Joanie's story
New Year's Eve 1968: Joanie, Scene 8 "Jake, Just a Regular Guy "
January 6: Joanie, Scene 1 To Come
Go to the previous scene in Joanie's story
New Year's Eve 1968: Joanie, Scene 8 "Jake, Just a Regular Guy "
No comments:
Post a Comment