I Hope We Live To Tell The Tale, #1

images

1.

On the day Corey killed himself I walked to school. I normally had a ride to school but on this day I did not. My ride was sick or hung over or something.

I walked through the golf course, along the oak tree laden narrow roads, past ranches and rolling hills with cows lingering behind wire and wood fences. The sky was blue and a chill in the air caused what looked like smoke to come out of my mouth. My hands were freezing cold in the early morning air but I kept them in my coat pockets.

The year was nineteen eighty-six. I was wearing black Chinese flats, which had thin rubber soles. My black socks were too thin to protect my numbing toes from the cold. My long black trench coat hung beyond my knees and I kept myself wrapped up in it to stay warm enough.

Walking at a faster speed caused my internal heater to turn on. I was happy to be alive and young. There was this big wide open void in front of me that people referred to as the future. But I didn’t care. I was young and living my life now.

I attended a boarding school called The Athenian School. It was a private boarding school that only spoiled brats who came from money could attend. I was not a boarder but attended as a day student. As I walked I wished I was a boarder because I would be warm right now. But I lived too close to the school, which made boarding a stupid economic excess. At least this is what my dad said.

I would have listened to my Walkman but the batteries were going dead and this caused Robert Smith’s voice to play in slow motion. I couldn’t handle it. Sounded like transmissions from the devil. Corey was into that kind of stuff.

Kids from all over the world attended The Athenian School. Kids from Japan, Saudi Arabia, China and South Korea. There was even a kid from Africa. This was cool for me because I had never had friends from all over the world. Now I did and I was only sixteen.

Most of the kids though came from the surrounding Bay Area. Berkeley, Oakland, San Francisco, Palo Alto and places like that.

Everyone at Athenian was high on some sort of drug, most of the time. My drugs of choice were clove cigarettes and weed.

The weed we smoked was like cement on the lungs. It was skunk weed most of the time. Skunk weed was cheap weed and enough of it would get us high. One day at school Corey was spitting up a lot of blood. He smoked a lot of skunk weed and clove cigarettes so we knew his lungs were bleeding. As he spit up handfuls of blood I couldn’t stop laughing. I just thought that sort of thing was funny and so did Corey. It made him cool to smoke that much.

When I finally arrived at school I still had thirty minutes to kill before class. The Athenian was still waking up, an eerie solitude hung in the air. I decided to go by my girlfriend’s room. She would be awake and maybe I could get a quick blow job before school began.

Emily Jolly was fifteen-years-old and I fell for her in drama class one day when she showed up wearing a see through black lace top. I could see her black bra underneath and if I looked close enough I could even see her breasts. Emily Jolly was one of the most desirable girls in the school. With her bleached blond hair, chin length bangs hanging in front of her face and thin figure always shrouded in black, she looked like some New Wave Sex Goddess from one of those videos on MTV.

It was weird that I was the guy who ended up getting her for a brief period of time. I never had the kind of confidence that would see myself as worthy of having a girl like that. She gave the best blow jobs I had ever had even though they were the only blow jobs I had ever had. For the rest of my life all the blow jobs I received would be measured against hers.

When I knocked on Emily’s door I could hear Siouxsie and the Banshees playing loud inside. My first thought was that Emily was with another guy. I often feared that. Recently she told me that I had to fuck her or she was going to have to fuck someone else. I was scared about fucking her since I had not yet fucked anyone. How did you do it? What was I supposed to do?Important lessons my parents and teachers never taught me.

Finally she answered her door with bright red lipstick illuminating her smile. She gave me a tight squeeze and then let me go after what felt like ten minutes. I was always happy to see and smell Emily. And I always hoped she would be wearing that black lace see through shirt.

I sat down on the side of her unmade bed and loosened my black trench coat. Emily stood in front of her mirror doing her make up while singing along to Siouxsie and the Banshees. I would have rather listened to The Smiths or Tears for Fears but Siouxsie was alright.

Emily talked about how she wanted to make herself puke more since she was getting fat. I thought it was a good idea not because I cared about her health but because I liked her body. Whatever she needed to do to keep it looking good I was all for. I knew she wasn’t going to exercise.

I watched Emily make vanity look like a virtue. I told her that I walked to school and she said, “That sucks.” I said that I didn’t mind. I was stoned and it was a nice morning. I reminded myself that I should walk to school more. I liked walking. It was a quiet time away from all other people in the world. Just myself and I. No miserable parents and no banal teachers. I liked being alone with myself.

Emily asked me if I heard about Jenna and Andrew and I told her I didn’t. Andrew was a punk rock kid and his mom taught art at our school. He had a mohawk and wore Dead Kennedys and Fear t-shirts. Every one of us was intimidated by Andrew and I should have known that he would be the one to take Emily from me. I was no match for him. Jenna was a bisexual New Wave girl with dyed black hair who was always trying to get with Emily. I think sometimes they did it.

“Jenna and Andrew had sex in her bedroom yesterday,” Emily said while applying black eye liner.

“Wow, that is pretty cool,” I said. “Lucky Andrew.”

“You mean lucky Jenna,” Emily said. She was serious. Most of the girls liked Andrew. He was my main competition. Him and some guy named Grant who looked and dressed like Howard Jones.

“Do you think they are going to go out now?” I asked Emily and she shrugged her shoulders like she didn’t want to know. I guess she already liked Andrew then and that’s why I felt like my time with her was limited. She came over and sat beside me on the bed. She put on her black combat boots on and I put my hand on her black stockings.

“Can I suck your dick real quick?” Emily asked me and I was so happy to be asked. I was 16 years old and already having the best sexual experiences of my life. She unzipped my black jeans and stuck my very erect penis into her mouth. It was the greatest feeling in the world.

For a fifteen year old kid from the upper class of Marin, Emily was already very sexually experienced. She had already dated a twenty-two-year-old black guy when she was fourteen who employed her as a hooker. He would set up gigs for her to go do sexual things with people he knew. They would split the money. The fact that Emily used to work as a prostitute turned me on.

I lit a clove cigarette as Emily gave me a blow job. I could hear a shouting sound outside but did not pay attention to it. I listened to Siouxsie’s dark and gothic voice play through my brain. I was aware that this was one of the greatest moments of my life. How lucky I was to be having Emily Jolly give pathetic me a blow job.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t any good at lasting long. I was too excited and Emily’s skills were too good. I did not even get two puffs from my clove cigarette before I orgasmed in Emily’s mouth. For a few seconds, I felt this immense pleasure incase my entire body, which caused me to completely evaporate into this warm glow. Orgasming had become one of my favorite things to do and would remain so for my entire life. This is because of Emily Jolly’s skills.

I zipped up my pants and gave Emily my clove cigarette to finish. We snuck out of the dorms since guys were not allowed in the girl’s dormitory. I had already been caught twice and could not afford another strike against me. Hand in hand we made it outside and I was feeling great. Little did I know that all of that was about to disappear.

2.

Both of us were dressed in all black, like the committed New Wavers that we were.

Chapter 2 coming soon.

2 thoughts on “I Hope We Live To Tell The Tale, #1

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s