The Year I Stopped Being Invisible - 10. Chapter 10

She was a fast machine

She kept her motor clean

She was the best damn woman that I ever seen

AC/DC was still playing on the cassette deck in Kathy's car, and she was topless in the back seat above me, kissing my lips and neck as I lay stoned and awe-struck against the inside of the left-hand back door. I was wearing a black dress shirt and tight blue Jordache jeans. My shoes had been kicked off onto the floor, and Kathy rubbed her stockinged toes against my bare feet as we both stretched out across the back seat.

Her eyes were closed as she began undoing buttons on my shirt and kissing her way down my body, rubbing her large, creamy breasts against my bare 15-year old chest. I could scarcely believe what was happening, but my cock knew, and was straining against the bonds of my zipper, pressing at the warmth between Kathy's legs, as she had hiked her skirt up around her waist and was grinding her crotch against mine.

She moved off of me, scooting backwards and pulling my legs up around hers as she continued kissing my chest, her small pink tongue flicking teasingly at my small, sensitive nipples. All of these new sensations were intoxicating and overwhelming to my virgin body, and my head lolled back in stoned ecstasy as she undid my belt and zipper, freeing my hard young cock.

A soft moan escaped my lips as her tongue trailed down my flat, hairless belly, snaking its way toward my pulsing erection.

"Mmm," she purred. "My little one isn't so little after all."

With that, she slowly ran her tongue across the length of my cock from tip to base, sending an electric charge through my entire body. I tensed and shivered as she gently licked my hairless ballsac, flicking her tongue beneath it to the sensitive area below. A low groan escaped my lips as she reversed course, licking and nibbling my throbbing boyhood from base back to the tip, running her tongue lightly across my sensitive coronal ridge before engulfing the head of my cock in her warm, wet mouth.

I looked down through pot-heavy eyelids to see more and more of my long, thin cock disappearing into Kathy's skilled, hungry mouth, her tongue working against my frenulum and sending paroxysms of pleasure coursing through my entire body. I sighed and let my mind drift on waves of pure sensual bliss as she sucked me, running my fingers through her soft, shaggy hair.

My first blowjob was actually happening, I thought, unable to process being introduced to sex, liquor, drugs and rock and roll all at the same time by this voracious and skilled "older woman." She downed my cock to the base, breathing around it as she licked and sucked, dragging her long nails lightly down my chest and abdomen and making me shudder in aroused excitement.

I dimly registered the sounds of the front doors opening, but it was too late. A wave of orgasmic ecstasy was building through me, spreading through my body to my fingers, my toes, my face. The sensations mounted, enhanced by the whiskey and the drugs, rolling from the very center of my being to every molecule of my skin. Kathy could feel my climax approaching and began sucking harder, her warm hand stroking my tightening balls as I began to moan and buck my hips to meet her busy mouth.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh shitttttttttt," I gasped, as every nerve in my body overloaded at once. I held onto her hair for dear life, thrusting my throbbing cock deep into Kathy's mouth as I exploded spurt after spurt of hot, molten boyjuice deep into her eagerly awaiting throat.

My mind seemed to melt, and my eyes were closed so tightly in the intense release that I saw concentric circles of wild, crazy colors, melding and blending into each other as spasms wracked my entire body and I shot what seemed an endless amount of thick, white cream from my pulsing cock.
Kathy expertly swallowed every drop, and continued lapping as my spasms subsided, licking me clean while I slowly came back to my senses, my drained balls -- which had retreated into my abdomen with the power and intensity of my first non-solo orgasm -- slowly returning down into their smooth pink pouch.

"Mmm," cooed Kathy, as she licked her lips and pulled back from me, reaching for her bra and slipping it on over her shoulders. "Not bad for a virgin."
It was then that I heard the applause.

Oh, shit!

I blinked my eyes back to some semblance of reality, and saw Jeff and Mark grinning and clapping in the front seat. They had seen it all, and apparently were delighted with what they witnessed.

"Kathy strikes again!" Mark exclaimed happily. "Corrupting Polk High, one virgin at a time!"

"Thank you, thank you," Kathy smiled, as if accepting an award. "I couldn't have done it without Mark Urrutia and Jeff Salzburg, who have both forgotten more about blowjobs than I will ever know."

Everyone laughed except me. Something felt wrong. This was a momentous occasion in my life, I thought, and here it was just a joke to these experienced, jaded older kids. And from what Mark said, I was apparently just one in a long line of Kathy's conquests.

She began to kiss me then, but I suddenly didn't want her to. It was hot in the car, I was starting to feel upset, and the steamed-up windows began to look to me like a cruel, clichéd Lover's Lane joke. In fact, I wanted nothing more at that moment than to get out of that car.

"I have to piss," I said as they continued their merriment.

"You can go in the woods," said Jeff, pointing toward the right side of the car.

"Yeah," grinned Mark knowingly. "The woods here are niiice..."

I imagined that Jeff and Mark had been fucking in those woods, and as I got out of the car, filled with a sudden, hollow feeling of emptiness and regret, my thoughts turned to Taine. Although I was technically still a virgin, I had harbored some crazy, irrational hope that he would have been my first. That was gone now, left back in that steamy, cynical, confusing car.

As I walked toward the woods, I passed another car and recognized Roger Walburg, another senior in Drama. Roger didn't go to tournaments, but was active in the school plays and also did a lot of work on stage crew. Roger was a husky, big kid with freckles and glasses. He dressed in the strange, country-hippie style popular among stoners in Texas at the time, with denim overalls over an old striped shirt and worn flip-flops. As I passed him, I saw him drinking the same brand of whiskey which I had tried earlier.

"That's good stuff," I ventured, hoping that conversation with a respected senior might make me feel better.

But Roger just glowered at me, swigging from the bottle.

"Don't talk to me," he said flatly. "Just don't talk to me, Rick."

I was surprised that Roger even knew my name, let alone that he seemed to be angry with me for some reason. I just kept walking until I was a few dozen feet into the woods, where I ducked behind a tree to piss. I was starting to sober up pretty quickly, and was at least aware enough to check the immediate area for rattlesnakes before unzipping and watering the tree.

When I was done, I zipped back up and began my return to the car. I didn't really want to go back, as I felt like the last thing in the world I wanted was to get in the middle of the celebration over Kathy's corrupting another innocent virgin to add to her list. I got to the car and found that the decision had been made for me.

The car doors were locked, and I could see enough through the steamy windows to determine that Kathy, Mark and Jeff were in the midst of a hot and frantic three-way makeout session.

I turned away and walked toward the school, feeling pissed off and used.

Even though I hadn't wanted to get back in the car, I felt bad anyway, like I was the virgin sacrifice for whatever kinky occult ritual they were engaged in, and had been cast aside after serving my purpose. Pretty shitty way to treat a guy, I thought. Even a freshman.

As I approached the school, I saw Carter Middleton, a hip, blonde junior smoking a cigarette with Linda Folman, a tall, slender blonde who was my age and in some of my classes. I realized I wasn't the freshman at this party, and wondered if Linda might be Carter's choice for a sacrificial virgin. My concern was allayed when he beckoned me over, smiling.

"Hello, Rick," Carter said in a hokey British accent. "My name's Whapcaplett, Adrian Whapcaplett! I'd like to take this opportunity to welcome you to Mousebat, Follicle, Goosecreature, Ampersand, Spong, Whapcaplett, Vendetta and Prang!"

I stared at him dumbly, realizing that I had just met the first person in my life other than myself who was familiar with Monty Python's Flying Circus, the groundbreaking British sketch-comedy show which I would later learn was both inspiration and gospel text for many teens on the tournament circuit.

"I love Python!" I said, breaking into a grin. I was glad I had come over.

Carter showily looked at me, then looked back at Kathy's car and back to me again.

"That much is obvious," he replied, still in the British accent and wiggling his eyebrows comically. "Do you know Linda?"

"I know Rick," Linda laughed. "We're going to be Duet partners!"

Linda and I had just begun to rehearse a Duet Acting scene from Bernard Slade's Same Time, Next Year, a comedy about a couple, both happily married to other people, who meet in a hotel room once a year for a fling.

It was obvious that we were both virgins and had no idea what to draw from for the scene, so we'd decided to skip Chamberlain and wait until the next tournament in Austin two weeks later to debut the piece.

"Hi, Doris," I smiled, using the name of her character in the scene.

"Hi, George," she giggled back amiably. "Looks like you've been getting in trouble."

I swallowed hard, praying that she hadn't seen what had gone on in the car, although since Carter seemed to be well aware of what had happened, I was pretty sure that Linda was, too.

"We're just about to blow this banana stand," said Carter in a different goofy voice. He shook a cigarette out of a pack of Marlboro Lights from his shirt pocket and offered me one.

Since I had already experienced my first sex, liquor, pot and heavy metal music, I decided that I might as well go for all the vice that was offered, and took the cigarette. I had smoked a few menthol Newports back in the South Carolina woods with Jay, who had stolen them from his dad's seemingly unlimited supply of cartons in the garage, but that had been years ago.

I put the cigarette in my mouth and let Carter light it, feeling the smoke fill my lungs. I expected to cough, but I didn't. It felt and tasted good, making me feel mature and elite. I guessed I was a grown-up now, and when I was a kid, smoking always seemed to me to be a sophisticated, adult thing to do, so I took to it like a fish to water.

Carter smiled at me as we smoked, and looked at me with his piercing grey eyes, which had that knowing glint that I was coming to associate with stoners. It was as if they were deeply amused by a vast wealth of secret knowledge about you which they alone could perceive.

"What's bugging Roger?" I asked.

"Roger's on acid," Linda explained. "He's been acting weird all night, and seeing you in there with Kathy didn't help."

I cocked my head in puzzlement. Carter exhaled a long stream of smoke and nodded toward Kathy's car.

"Roger has had a crush on Kathy since middle school," Carter said. "Everyone knows about it, but he doesn't have the balls to tell her. So he follows her around to these things like a puppy dog, drops acid, and then gets all moody while Kathy...uh...does what she does."

"Warren found a notebook in Mr. McRory's room," Linda added, indicating Warren Filanski, a crude, drugged-out junior who was lighting the stream from a can of WD-40 in a small group to our left. "It was Roger's notebook, and the first section was just all the same sentence, one per line, going on and on for fourteen or fifteen pages."

"What did it say?" I asked.

Carter smiled grimly. "'I love Kathy Witcher and always will.'"

"Great," I thought, feeling as if I had just made an enemy of Roger, who I took to be one of the two or three most respected seniors in the Drama department.

"Are you riding back with Kathy or can we give you a lift?" asked Linda.

"I'd like to ride with you, if that's okay," I said, grateful for a ticket out of the party. Linda lived about ten blocks from me, so I didn't feel as if I would be imposing by accepting her offer.

"Great," said Carter, flicking his cigarette butt into the parking lot and throwing an arm around my shoulder. "Stick with us, kid! You'll go far."

He had switched to a 1940s movie voice, and now added, in a low mumble: "Although not as far as you went tonight."

I smiled in spite of myself and followed them to Linda's car.

As we drove home, I thought back on what had happened in Kathy's car, and decided that if she had used me -- which she had -- I had used her as well.

I had been sad, horny, lovestruck and frustrated, and although I was still sad and lovestruck, the other two things had been taken care of. Still, I ached for Taine, and wondered if we would ever be friends again.

A Stephen Stills song came on the radio, and I smirked bitterly as tears came to my eyes.

If you're down and confused

And you don't remember who you're talking to

Concentration slips away

Because your baby is so far away

I was thinking of Kathy's blowjob, Mark's forceful but exciting kiss, and how much I deeply missed, loved, and yearned for Taine. The song seemed, in that moment, to have been written just for me. I turned my head toward the window so that Linda and Carter wouldn't see me crying.

Well there's a rose in a fisted glove

And the eagle flies with the dove

And if you can't be with the one you love, honey

Love the one you're with

Carter, in the backseat, must have caught my reflection in the car's window, because he put a comforting hand on my shoulder and squeezed.
Linda glanced over and put a hand on my knee, gripping it tightly and warmly. I finally relaxed, knowing that I was, at last, among friends.

I wondered what Taine was doing and sighed heavily, letting Carter and Linda silently comfort me while I yearningly gazed out the window into the night.