I saw a facialbook post that reminded me of this chapter, which I hadn't yet posted. Deb lived across the hall from me in Armenara Plaza during summer 1988. In an earlier chapter (136) I described her:
"She wore a white one piece bathing suit and mirrored sunglasses as she relaxed on the lounge chair on the balcony reading a book. She had a gorgeous body: huge breasts, perfect legs, and fiery red hair. She was an absolute knockout- I’d never seen anyone like her in my life. A woman among girls. And she didn’t notice me- but why would she? She was reading a book. [cut] Debbie was maybe five seven. She had a round Irish face with prominent apple cheeks speckled with freckles. She had almond shaped hazel eyes and a wide full mouth. Her red hair touched the bottom of her shoulder blades and framed everything beautifully. [cut] I felt comfortable around Debbie. As she was so far out of my league, I didn’t feel any pressure to impress her, and she didn’t have that snobby “hot girl attitude” that all the sorority girls had."
The strange bit is that we felt comfortable around each other- maybe because I wasn't (consciously) hitting on her, and respected her intelligence. Or maybe she, like so many other women, sensed that I was different (due to my "dark secret": transgender.) In any case, this, like every other chapter was written before my "reawakening" in 2008, so it has a distinctly male point of view. I present it here, as written. I'll comment here and there, and those comments will be in italics.
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Chapter 2.141: Laying Out
Thursday, May 26, 1988
I
was reading my homework when I heard a knock at the door. I opened it to see Deb. She was wearing her white swimsuit with a
pale green towel wrapped around her hips and white Vuarnet sunglasses pushed
atop her red hair. She was so fucking
hot!
Me? I still hadn’t showered and I was a wreck. I was hungover. Thanks George!
“Hi
Lance! I’m going over to the HUB
lawn! Wanna come?”
That
was a loaded question! (And she knew
it.)
“Sure! Just let me get a quick shower…”
“Just
throw on a hat and grab a towel,” she said.
So
off we went to the HUB lawn. I was going
to hang out (and be seen) with a goddess!
The
HUB lawn wasn’t too crowded so we found a decent spot away from the hacky-sack
players and the Frisbee tossers. Every
guy on the lawn stopped to watch Deb settle down onto her towel. She was graceful as she lay down on her
back. I clunked down like a puppet with
cut strings.
Someone
nearby had a radio just to add to the atmosphere.
She's out of my league
Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
She's like the wind
Thanks
Patrick. Like I didn’t already know. (I was so fucking sick of Dirty Dancing.)
Anyway, we lay
there talking about classes and stuff. I
was frying because I didn’t put on any suntan lotion. I was ghostly pale so it was OK by me.
Even then, I burned instead of tanned. This has become worse with time, as I now burn seriously hardcore in the sun. I blame my northern European ancestry.
Deb
rolled over to her stomach.
“Can
you put some lotion on my back please?” she asked.
“I
guess” I said.
Every
guy on the HUB lawn wanted to be me at that moment.
I
rubbed it on slowly and firmly (why not?)
I had a perfect view of her incredible ass, and I was in no hurry.
“Mmmm
your girlfriend must love you!” Deb
said.
“Don’t
have one. The last one cheated and
everything went to hell.”
“I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a
touchy subject,” she said.
“No
apology necessary. Speaking of which,
when do I get to meet your football player?”
She
smirked. “Between classes and the weight
room, I hardly see him. Someday, I’m
sure.”
“You
don’t sound too thrilled.”
“It
is what it is” she said, sounding very tired.
“So aside from suntan lotion backrubs, what other skills do you have to
offer a girl?”
“Well,
I’m a trained bartender, I know how to ballroom dance, I can make a mean steak,
and other things I’m not telling a football player’s girlfriend.”
She
laughed and smirked. “Are you afraid you
won’t measure up?” she said.
I
laughed. “I’m not saying a word!”
How could skinny little me compete with a varsity football player? Wasn't happening and I knew it. Yes, I know who he was (is) but am not saying.
Deb
looked back at my towel, where I had the book I was reading for homework.
“What
are you reading?” She asked as I
continued massaging lotion onto her back.
“Pride and
Prejudice by Jane Austin. I’m reading it
for my Victorian Lit class,” I said.
“Oh! I read that!
What do you think of it?” She
said, almost purring.
I’ll spare you the
rather long discussion about literature.
I don’t want to put you to sleep.
Speaking of sleep, my massage extended to her arms, legs, shoulders,
neck, anywhere that wasn’t covered by bathing suit. Part of me figured that this was going to be
one of the highlights of my life, so I took it slow and enjoyed it. The net result was that I was putting her to
sleep. She rolled over and asked me to
do the front of her legs as well. I
noticed that by this time there were many other blankets with lots of guys
nearby.
Deb’s white bathing
suit was a one-piece, and while it had no back, it covered the whole
front. I guess she needed that for
support. In any case, no tummy rubs.
After a minute or
so, she said “So you make a mean steak?”
“Absolutely. And I know which wines to select for it.”
Deb propped
herself up on her elbows. “I have a
couple of good steaks. Do you want to
work your ‘magic’ on them?”
“When were you
thinking?”
“Well,
tonight. I’d say you’ve had enough sun,
Lobster-boy. I supply the steaks and you
show me what you can do.”
“Are you sure your
boyfriend won’t mind?”
“He won’t know or
care. He already has plans for
tonight. So what do you say?”
I looked at her,
but couldn’t see her eyes through the dark lenses of the Vuarnets.
“Tonight! Sure!
I can do that!” I said, maybe a
bit too enthusiastically.
“Great!” she said,
laughing a little. “Now lay on your
stomach.”
“Why?” I said.
“I’m going to rub
some of this on you before you catch sun poisoning, you pale boy!” Deb said.
Wow! EVERY guy on the HUB lawn wanted to be me at
that point. I couldn’t believe my luck!
I spent the rest
of my day cleaning the place, preparing the steaks, then showering in cold
water as I had burned myself nicely in the few hours we were on the lawn.
Deb knocked on my
door at seven as agreed. She wore a
loose white top over a tight pale orange tank top and white shorts, none of
which did anything to hide her body one bit.
Her hair was down and shone in the late afternoon light. She was barefoot.
I seated her at my
table, decorated pitifully with the one candle I could buy and dishes that
didn’t match. I’d opened the merlot
earlier (I’d bought it to share with Judy someday), so I poured that
immediately. At least the wine glasses matched. I then served the steak
(which I cooked Medium with Cajun spices) with canned green beans and canned
potatoes. If she was repulsed by the
set-up, she didn’t let on.
Looking back, the table set really was pathetic. Also, setting for two used every plate in the place. I was embarrassed then and now. Like I have much better these days. Sigh.
After serving it
all (and getting glasses of water in glasses that also didn’t match), I sat
and offered a toast.
“To new friends” I
said raising my glass.
“To good friends”
Debbie said raising hers.
Heaven.
And the steaks
fucking ruled.
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