As Mick Jagger’s lustful invitation faded out, it was replaced by the Rascals' Good Lovin', yet another male song of lust that made Joanie grimace, recalling the dozens of boys who had come on to her since her early puberty. But then she caught sight of Annie’s smiling face and she felt a sense of relief, actually gratitude for Annie’s instant understanding and compassion.
Soundtrack: Good Lovin'---The Young Rascals
"Whew! Thank you. You know, if you'd been a man, you wouldn't have stopped. You would have just kept on and... and, you know, I would have let you... even if I didn't want it... even if I was repulsed or afraid. I really appreciate... er, uh... I mean..."
Annie squeezed her hands again, warmly, yes lovingly. "Sweetie, relax. You don't have to explain. I've been there myself plenty times. Men are fuckers; that's all there is to it. You want to be with them? Then, you got to learn how to set the agenda. Don't even let them get started."
Annie paused, then gesturing to the couch, asked, "Hey. How 'bout instead of rushing into sex, I just give you a relaxing back rub?"
Joanie hesitated, eying the couch suspiciously, her mind instantly filled with recollections of guys who'd used a back rub as a ruse to get her supine and then....
"No, really. Just a back rub, I mean it." Annie interrupted Joanie's unpleasant memories. "I know the guy routine. First back rub then front rub. That's not what I had in mind at all. It's just that you seem to have dug the physical contact, but aren't into... or maybe aren't ready... for sex with a chick. Believe me, I understand. I spent years being banged by guys before I was comfortable making love with a woman. Who knows, maybe you'll never feel that way. But, you do seem like you could use some loving female hands on your body and your back is a pretty safe place to have that."
Tears began to well up in Joanie's eyes. Annie understood. She understood completely. What a difference between her gentle, caring words and the kind of mental rape most guys pulled in similar situations. "Oh, come on, baby! What's the big deal? You're not one of those square chicks who thinks her body's a fucking altar, are you? Blah, blah, blah." And all the while, their hands are working overtime, looking for an entry... to breasts or thighs or crotch or ass. Oh, fuck them! Fuck all of them!
Joanie’s mind drifted back to the very first time a guy had forced himself on her. It was at camp, an all-Jewish camp; she had just turned fourteen and had begun wearing a bra, though she barely needed one, even now. One of the counselors-in-training, Brad something or other, one night after movies, had suggested a walk down to the lakeside. She'd gone along innocently, honored at being sought after by this camp big shot. Part way there he'd grabbed her hand and held it stiffly as they walked. She hadn't known what to make of it; she'd never held a boy's hand before. Then at lakeside, he'd pulled her towards him and kissed her roughly on the lips. She'd been so surprised that she'd bit her own lip. She was even more surprised when Brad pressed his body against her and she felt his hardness... down there. He kept trying to kiss her, but she averted her mouth, so that he ended up kissing mainly her cheek and neck. In between kisses, he was breathing heavily and sighing out her name, as though he were in pain. The whole thing frightened and confused Joanie. But when Brad reached up and touched her budding breasts, she was no longer confused. She was panicked.
"NO!" she'd exclaimed and pulled away from him, running back up the path, tears streaming down her face.
The rest of the summer had been a torture for her, spent avoiding Brad, and ashamed to tell any of her friends what had happened. In retrospect, what Brad had done was nothing, really, not compared to some of the shit that later, in high school, she’d put up with from boys. But at the time, it had frightened her, horribly.
Links
The (Young) Rascals
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New Year's Eve 1968: Joanie, Scene 3 "Let's Split"
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New Year's Eve 1968: Joanie, Scene 1 "1969 Began with a Kiss"
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