I NEVER TOLD NO one this. People all thought I was so tough. Hanging out with Russell and shit. Him that had a kid before he was fifteen. So people figured I had to be the same way. Like I was Mr. Fuck. But she was the first one I ever did it with. The only one.
You think about it all the time. Everyplace you go, it’s on your mind. Russ and me, we’d sit on the beach smoking and watching tail, and we’d talk like, “Maybe I’ll go stick it in that one.” “Yeah,” I’d say. “I sure could go for some wet pussy right now.” You talk big. Sometimes I’d even point to one and say I think I done her one time, over at Little Paradise, behind the pier. Should’ve heard her screaming for more. And Russ says yeah, he might’ve fucked her too, her and her girlfriend there together. It’s hard to remember. Now I’m wondering how much of it he made up. But at the time it never hit me he might be shitting me same as I was shitting him.
Christ, it gets to where you been saying you’re doing it so long, when you’re not doing it, you get freaked it’s never going to happen. You’re jerking off twenty times a day and alls you can think about is I got to get it or I’ll bust. You can’t concentrate. Sit in shop class and just putting a nut in a bolt’s enough to give you a boner. You get where you think maybe you’ll go crazy, end up in the state hospital. “What you in for?” they ask you. “Incurable hard-on.” “You abusing any substances?” “Yeah. My right hand.”
I was thinking Lydia might be the one. I mean, the girl didn’t have to be no Miss America. Only once you got this reputation that you know what you’re doing, you got to live up to it. Truth is, I wasn’t sure where to start. Do I kiss her or go straight for the tits? What if I get so freaked I can’t get it up? What if I come all over the place before she wants it? And then you wonder what you’re supposed to do after. Do you lie there on top of her or what? Are you supposed to kiss her, hand her her bra or something? Then next time she sees you do you just act like you never fucked or do you grab her ass and jump her again? Man, once you start asking questions it can drive you crazy.
That’s where I was at the night Mrs. Maretto showed me her tattoo. When it happened I was thinking maybe this is my brain going soft from wanting it so bad. Maybe I’m having these hallucinations like what happens to my uncle when he gets drunk. But then I thought, well if I’m dreaming, at least I’m going to make it a good dream. That’s when I unzipped my pants and nailed her.
Christ, all the times I thought about what it would be like, but it was better. Her skin’s so soft. Her hair fans out on the sand like she’s in a shampoo commercial. I put my tongue in her mouth, and I can taste the Tic Tac she was sucking on. We’re so connected, I taste her Tic Tac.
That first time, alls I wanted was to get inside her. I don’t have time to look at her tits. She’s so warm and tight all around me, it’s like I’m in this underground tunnel, and there’s diamonds sparkling all around, and, I don’t know, waterfalls, stars. I’m pumping her, and she’s digging her fingers into my back, and I guess most likely there’s noise from over at the boardwalk and the bars and that, but I don’t hear none of it, I’m in this other world that just has two people, her and me. Partly I’m afraid I’m going to hurt her, I’m pounding so hard, and she’s so little and delicate, but I can’t stop, I just got to do it. Then all of a sudden I know it’s about to happen and for a second I think, What if I’m not supposed to do it now? but it’s too late, I can’t hold back. Man, I just explode all over the place, like someone pulled the pin on a goddam grenade. I black out, see this white light, the works. And then I just fall on top of her. Can’t move.
I guess it’s different with girls. When it’s over, she wants me to get off her, and I’m just wishing I could climb back on top of her and do it again. But her, she’s wired. Hopping up, pulling up her pants, hooking her bra, checking she’s got both her earrings.
“Mrs. Maretto—” I say. It’s funny. I just finished fucking her, and she’s still Mrs. Maretto to me. I don’t even know what I want to say after that, I just got to tell her something that’s big enough for the way I’m feeling. Now I get it why people say “I love you” and “Will you marry me.” Maybe there’s words in the dictionary to go with how you feel at a moment like that, but I sure as hell don’t know them.
But she always knows what to say. She’s still buttoning up her blouse and she’s telling me these, like she calls it, rules. Number one being, I can’t tell anyone. Or it’s over.
This makes me happy, because what that means is, long as I don’t tell we get to do it again. “Sure,” I say. “You got it. Absolutely. You think I’m crazy?” Of course in the end I did tell Russell, but like I said, when you’ve just finished doing it you’ll say anything. You don’t know what you’re doing. It was just later that I lost it there and had to blab.
The next rule is, don’t ever call her up. No problem I say. I don’t have no phone anyways.
She says her husband is a big problem. She don’t know what she’s going to do about him. He could be a very violent guy she says, and he’s Italian. You know how they are. I say don’t worry, I can take care of myself. Her too. She don’t have to worry. Whatever she says, I’m ready.
The last rule was you got to take a shower every morning, and use deodorant and mouthwash. A person should brush their teeth after every meal and have a clean shave every day.
I only have to shave like, every three or four days, but I don’t tell her that. I just say you got it. Then we get up and walk back to her car. I want to have my hands all over her, just touch her hair. But she walks in front.