Yvonne thought she was "The Voice Of Experience, " and to dopey me she often was, --- because she'd been de-flowered at fourteen by a friend of her brother's, a cool, cute, tough and sweet-talking rookie truck driver from Akron who was visiting her family for the weekend. He was seventeen and, I guess she really, really wanted him or she was plenty tired of being a virgin.
Now, we were walking along Mayfield Road, just passing Guarino's, my favorite classy restaurant on the Hill. Yvonne was busy devouring Cracker Jacks. She didn't offer me any. She knew I didn't like them.
"You saw Emilio naked," she said.
"Of course."
"And!..."
"He's absolutely perfect."
"Details!"
"You could bounce a dime off his stomach."
"More!Much more! He's big?"
"Yvonne, no!"
But, she wouldn't give up. "He's not big?'
"I didn't mean that."
"He's big, then."
"You don't know?"
"Yes, I guess."
"You guess." "Stop! Can it, Yvonne!"
"Fucking hell, you're such a prude, Maria!"
"'I'm not a prude!"
There it was again. I'm a "prude". Being called a prude was a real insult in any crowd; it usually made me mad, but from my best friend... Yvonne just grinned at me. I swallowed. Even thoughts of gorgeous naked Emilio usually shot a thrill through me to down there.
"Okay, okay, I guess I'm not going to get you to Yvonne had a cutest girl nose I've ever seen, a dainty classic button, kind of like Debbie Reynolds. She continued. "Emilio Leone shows you exactly what we all keep harping about to our boyfriends, respect, and you're fucking upset with him?"
I kicked a stone, kicked it again and again and again. "Hell, yeah, I am! What the fuck? I thought all guys really want, or at least would be glad to get, what I was so willing to just hand over to him! I mean, absolutely give to him as a gift, my first time! And, he wouldn't even fucking take it! He made me put on my clothes and then, he fucking took me home!"
"And, you were completely humiliated because, you thought that all guys were supposed to act like slobbering beasts. They're all supposed to want to leap on anything female and screw it, screw it, screw it, screw it! "
"Well, yeah."
"Believe it or not, Maria, there really are males who aren't horny asses who would even screw a keyhole."
"I know."
She went on. "Most teenage guys are over-sexed. They're physically wired by biology to be like that, because, and I read this somewhere and I believe it to be true, that they're in the prime of their sexual lives and their virility. This is an imbalance of nature for them, because their natural partners, teenage girls, are nowhere near their sexual peak. The average teenage girl wants romance, not necessarily sex. So, when teens date the teen guy badly wants to get in her pants. He's positively wild to, and he goes way too fast. He's way too impatient to take time to carefully arouse and excite a girl. This wildness to get sex-sex-sex as quick as possible really turns the average girl off, makes her think he wants her to make herself cheap, and she hates it. I also read that the average woman reaches her sexual peak at about thirty-five. So ideally, teen guys and thirty-five year old women should be paired up." Yvonne grinned. "This is why there is so much battling in drive-ins between extremely horny guys and good girls. Guys want to get good girls to put out, but the good girls won't unless they're sure the guy respects and loves them, and most smart good girls don't believe the guy's declarations of love when all they want is lots and lots of sex. Now, nice girls, fast, slutty girls will basically put out for practically any guy, but the guys often get tired of those types, thinking, --- Do I really want a girl every guy has had a piece of? Then, there's the V. D. You can't get a venereal disease from a virgin. So, the guys keep trying hard to get good girls to give in to casual wham-bam sex, but the girls usually won't. Ha, the dopes think if I do this and this and this to her it will somehow 'press her magic button,' and she'll be slavering all over me for sex-sex-sex! All that does is get the dumb fart a wrestling match with his date in the back seat of his dad's Buick."
I smirked. "Yvonne, oh, wise one, I think you maybe have a great future as some sort of counselor!" She didn't get my sarcasm, didn't even look at me.
She wrinkled her nose. "Thanks."
"Now, with you and Emilio, you found out he's not going to act like a grabby dorf, a walking, talking wiener, what you've had with every other guy you've gone out with. And, because you didn't get what you wanted, now you want it real bad."
"Yeah."
"Human nature, but, what's the terrible rush? Emilio will cave in, eventually. In the meantime, you can tease him, mercilessly. It will be fun, and when he finally grabs you and does the wicked passionate little deed, it will be better than you ever imagined!"
"Yvonne?"
"Yeah, Hon?"
"What if, what if, I think... I mean, I think... I think he didn't..."
"You both got all hot and bothered, things got wild and crazy, and you're not sure. You think he did or didn't bust your cherry."
"Right! Maybe he didn't, and maybe he did!"
"And, you don't know?"
" I'm really not sure!"
She rolled her eyes up to the sky. "Was there blood?'
"I don't know! I took a shower right away."
"Uh, was he wearing a rubber?"
"No,"
Yvonne rolled her eyes up to the clouds again "Brainless, you are totally fucking brainless!"
"I didn't think of that, a rubber, at the time."
"Naturally, you didn't! Passion rules. That's how kids get born. When's your next period?"
"In a week."
"You're regular?"
"Very."
"You're on pins and needles till then, Hon, because if any part of his cock touched any part of your snatch... Those little critters he produces by the thousands are mighty good swimmers!" Yvonne laughed.
"It's not funny!"
"Sorry. Really, Maria, it' s probably okay. There's just a very slight chance you're pregnant. It hardly ever happens the first time."
"Right. I, I..."
"What?" Yvonne finished her Cracker Jacks, got the prize, a tiny pink plastic rat tail comb with a heart at the end of it. "Cute," she said, stuffing the comb and the empty Cracker Jack box in her purse. Yvonne always carried purses that were the size of overnight bags. You could put a toy train with the tracks in one of Yvonne's purses. Of course, she carried her little souvenir Cleveland Indians baseball bat and her switch blade, but then, almost every girl in the area carried a switchblade in her purse. No baseball bat for me, though. I'd just pick up anything nearby and start slugging with it. Much easier. But, then, I always carried my .22 in my purse, also.
"Ummm, Yvonne, I went on, "Emilio said that for my first time I ought to be doing it with someone I really, really love."
She actually stopped walking. "Damn it to fucking hell, he truly is a human being. How about that?"
"I, I think I'm in love with him."
"I imagine that was easy to do!"
"Way too easy. Uh, Yvonne, I also think I've been in love with him since I was fifteen, and he, ummm... He French kissed me in the hall at school."
She laughed, again. "Shit, that could do it, when you're that teeny and impressionable! That clever fox! BUT, you're not in love with him. You're in lust with him, big, big difference! It's a major crush."
"Mmmm... Yeah, Yvonne, his mouth, his hands!"
She narrowed her eyes, smiled like a contented pussycat. "He's got what it takes and he knows how to use it!"
"Yes!"
"But, uh, we didn't exactly part on the best of terms."
"Does he know your number?"
"I don't think so. He could probably get it. Then, what if he doesn't call me?"
"What if? What if? You call him!"
"Yvonne!"
"I know. I know. Girls are never ever supposed to call guys. Only fast girls do that. Just do it, Maria!"
"I don't have his number."
"No fucking excuses."
"He boxes at Rio's Gym."
"Good. So, go there."
"Okay."
"You don't sound very happy."
"I'm not. Suppose he doesn't want me anymore! I'll feel like a begging whore!"
"What? You know you're not a whore. You can only be a whore if you think you are one. Grow some balls, Maria!"
"I'm the wrong gender."
She poked me in the side. "I almost wish I was you."
"What about your new boyfriend Jerry?"
Yvonne shrugged. "Oh, him, he's nothing special, a washed-out string bean, a dim bulb, with no guts. Maybe, I'm just killing time, waiting for my own Emilio Leone. Or, maybe, I'll take up girls."
"Really, girls?"
She grinned. "Just kidding. I like dick too much. Yeah, Emilio Leone sounds mighty interesting!"
"Don't tell me. I'm a damned lucky woman."
"You said, it, Hon. I need a chocolate phosphate to wash down the Cracker Jack's, Maria. Let's go to Rolley's Drugstore."
"Sure." Yvonne was the fashion model type, with a pixie haircut that I gave her and really long legs. I practically had to trot to keep up with her.
"You gotta keep me posted about your love life!," Yvonne said. "It's better than a soap opera."
--- Copyright by Antoinette Beard/Sorelle Sucere 2021.
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