The Long and Winding Road

Author's Note: A special word of thanks to my editor, janiexx for polishing and refining my story. I extend my heartfelt gratitude.

Chapter One:

The morning crowd at the WAWA Quik Mart was thick and impatient. I was waiting six deep at the checkout with money in hand for my large coffee and bagel. At the head of the line, an elderly woman was trying to pay for a carton of cigarettes with a credit card.

"Ma'am, do you have a different card? The one you're trying to use is expired," the clerk said patiently.

Everyone in line audibly groaned including me as a debate about the validity of the card ensued. Another register opened and everyone moved in that direction.

The PA system in the store broadcast canned songs representing the 60's to the 90's as well as the easy listening variety. Today was no exception but then a song came on that pierced me to my very soul.

"Hearts of fire creates love desire Take you high and higher to a world you belong Hearts of fire creates love desire High and higher to your place on the throne..."

Remembering the old Earth, Wind and Fire song, the tears started to form in my eyes. I couldn't stop them. I hadn't heard the tune in a long time but it's relevance to my early love life was irrefutable.

"You will find peace of mind If you look down in your heart and soul Don't hesitate 'cause the world seems cold Stay young at heart 'cause you're never, never old at heart..."

The tears ran down my cheeks and I left my place in line for the nearest exit, the coffee and bagel still on the counter. I was crying, middle aged fool that I was, over something that I once had but was now lost. Avoiding eye contact at all costs, I walked briskly out the door.

Thank God I'd parked the car in a remote part of the lot. In my haste I hit the panic button on the keyless entry and my SUV started making a high pitched theft alarm noise.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Finally, I was able to gain access and slumped in the driver's seat with my head on the steering wheel. My mind was filled with unanswered questions and regrets. What went wrong, Sharon? Why us? Were we just another government statistic?

After twenty five years of marriage, I was separated from my wife, my first and only wife. Deep in my heart, I knew that I would always care for her and a part of me still loved her.

Long forgotten memories rumbled through my head, of times and places and people. I saw Sharon's lovely youthful face framed by long flowing brunette hair. It was January of 1973 and my first day of regular college.

Big Man on Campus:

I was referred to as a "Summer/Jan" freshman, a new concept in post secondary education. My acceptance to State U was predicated on taking two classes during the summer session, then returning in January as a full time student.

As I walked into the Student Lounge with my best bud Craig, I saw a petite vision of loveliness playing cards: Pinochle to be precise. I poked him in the ribs.

"That girl is cute as hell..." I whispered.

Craig looked confused for a moment. "Oh, that's Sharon."

"You know her?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah man, she's part of our group. She's Carla's friend. Nice girl but kinda quiet."

When I tore my eyes away from Sharon's face, I immediately recognized the other card players as my friends.

"Hey man, I'm late for History class. See ya around one. Did you remember to bring a doob?" he asked.

"Yeah...yeah I did," I answered but I was preoccupied with meeting Sharon.

When Carla saw me, her face lit up. "Well, well, well, if it isn't B.M.O.C.," she said.

Suddenly, I felt shy and a little irritated. Ever since Carla discovered that I was going to be part of the college scene at State U, she called me B.M.O.C., short for Big Man on Campus. She introduced me to Sharon, who looked at me briefly and turned her attention back to the card game.

"Pull up a chair. When's your first class?" Carla asked.

During my preoccupation with Sharon, I totally forgot about English 102. My panicked look gave me away.

"Your first day and you're late for class, not a good start B.M.O.C.," Carla said, before I sped out of the building.

Luckily, I was familiar with campus via summer session. I arrived only a minute or two late but as I sat in class, the image of Sharon dominated my thoughts.

I was thankful that some of my closer high school chums were attending the same college. During summer session, I knew practically no one but thanks to a plentiful supply of pot, made friends easily.

In that era many a friendship started via a shared joint or pipe. Long hair, T shirts and bell bottoms was the standard look among college age males, especially at State U.

In spite of the fact that it was winter I wore a lined jeans jacket over a turtleneck sweater. The swirling and sometimes howling winds cut through the thin cloth like a knife. I swear I lost five pounds the first month just from shivering.

Craig and I met after class in a remote part of the windswept athletic field and as we smoked the joint, I asked him questions about Sharon.

"Jesus man, I think she's dating two or three guys," he said in answer to one of my more direct questions.

Considering her very pretty looks, his reply came as no surprise.

"If you decide to go after her, good luck; Sharon's a sweetheart but she keeps to herself. She's hard to read, get my drift?" he said.

All I could do was nod my head but something inside me refused to be intimidated.

After four pm when most classes had ended for the day, a large group of guys and girls met to play Pinochle in the student lounge. The number one extracurricular activity for the sedentary at State U., it was a consuming passion for most of us. Although I started out playing single deck, I soon graduated to double deck and the competition among teams became fierce.

Almost all social activities on campus revolved around the student union building and the lounge was the place to meet, greet, be seen and above all for our group to play cards.

Many of my friends were skilled card players and attended the late afternoon/early evening sessions religiously. It's odd when I think about it, but weekends were usually Pinochle free. When I noticed that Sharon was a regular, it made my presence mandatory.

However, Carla insisted on me becoming her latest in a long string of partners. Besides, Sharon was already teamed with her boyfriend Ted.

"Brian's a fuckin' dolt!" Sharon spat angrily after a very galling loss one afternoon.

Brian was also her boyfriend and she unceremoniously dumped him because as she put it, "He sucks as a card player and the asshole doesn't know his way around a girl's vagina!"

Carla. What a character! She was ahead of her time. From high school her brutal honesty about life and how she perceived it should be lived always commanded my attention. To call her a feminist I think would be cheating her memory. She was more than a feminist and although she held firm with their ideals, she was a renaissance woman.

Carla preached equality among men and women in every aspect of American life. As I would soon learn, that included sex. A woman's place in conventional society was rapidly changing as more and more entered the workforce and yet were woefully underpaid in comparison to their male counterparts. It was one of her pet peeves. I could talk and listen to her for hours and never felt threatened because there had always been a strong maternal influence in my upbringing. Male chauvinism was completely unacceptable behavior in my house. Call it zero tolerance by today's standards. Sometimes when I think back, it was Carla I should have married. But I wasn't in love with her.

If Carla and I were part of a foursome with Sharon and Ted, I'd gawk at Sharon and make mental mistakes during the game. That drove Carla crazy but she knew instinctively that I had a crush on Sharon.

It was nearing Valentine's Day when Carla and I signed up for a double deck Pinochle tournament. She insisted on going over all the rules and practicing various scenarios that might arise during a game. I distinctly remember it was a Friday night and I wanted to go out partying but Carla was adamant.

I was able to concentrate for maybe a half hour but started making simple, unforgivable mistakes. Carla was angry but I produced a joint and with some reluctance on her part, we puffed away. Soon a very peaceable feeling pervaded her dorm room and I relaxed to the point that I stared admiringly at her body.

Carla was medium height and attractive in an ethnic way with dark olive skin, black hair and large boobs. Her body type could best be described as average for the times. She was neither slender nor slim and certainly not fat. However, for as long as I could remember, I was highly attracted to lean, small breasted athletic looking women.

It had been four long weeks since I had any kind of sex with my girl back home and I was horny as hell. With a roommate a scant foot or two away in the next bed, masturbation took a backseat as well.

When Carla got high, she mellowed out and became very playful. She would shamelessly flirt with guys but most of it was of the innocent variety. However, today was different. Her gaze was intense and her eyes looked like two hot burning coals.

Carla was stretched out on her bed while I was seated on the floor with my back against her roommate's bed. Since we became good friends in high school, a mild sexual tension existed between us. I had always felt that it existed more on her part than on mine. But tonight she was catching me at the right time.

We kept looking at each other without saying a word and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew what was going to happen, what Carla wanted to happen. I got and up and sat on the side of her bed, gazing down at her affectionately. She was lying on her back with her arms behind her head and those big boobs of hers pointing skyward.

Suddenly, Carla held her arms out to me and it was that simple. We were kissing and necking like overheated lovers and my boner strained against the front of my jeans. As was her nature Carla took charge. In a panting voice she told me to lift her top and take off her bra.

Now, the removal of a woman's bra in that era always seemed to be a problem for me. Carla raised her upper body enough so that I could reach around but the metal eye hooks refused to cooperate. After several exasperating moments, I felt it release. Halleluiah, because I was already enveloped in flop sweat; the kind of perspiration that signals failure to perform in some sexual way, even in something as mundane as taking a girls brassiere off.

For their size, her breasts were firm and I found her silver dollar nipples very appealing. I started sucking.

"No baby, lick them first," she instructed.

With long up and down tongue strokes, I contentedly lapped her tits until she was moaning and groaning. Unable to control myself any longer, I suckled the pebble like protuberance in the center.

As I toiled away on her nipples, Carla's hand was carefully massaging and squeezing my rigid cock through my jeans. However, I'd sat through enough of her lectures on sex and the new woman to know that her satisfaction came first.

I had limited experience eating a girl, especially in the proper manner but I was moving south between her thighs with that one act on my mind. As I took my time removing her denims, Carla was squirming with anticipation.

A full black bush greeted my eager face and more than a few of the wiry hairs found their way into my mouth. Carla picked up on my hesitancy and with patience she told me what to do. Although I scarcely realized it at time, she was imparting knowledge that would prove to be invaluable in my sex life for years to come. There were many times when I preferred performing cunnilingus over intercourse.

From then on, Carla and I started dating. However she was far more eager to have a relationship than I was and Craig was the first to notice.

"Yo Rick, what gives? I thought you liked Sharon."

Shit, I was crazy about Sharon but she appeared to be in love with Ted and as an old adage suggests, "Don't look a sexual gift horse in the mouth".

In the beginning, I was sheepish about it but I soon learned that Carla liked sex, lots and lots of sex. Her roommate had dropped out after fall semester and she had the dorm room to herself. Except for that one week per month, the girl was a wild woman.

My first full term at State U was extraordinary and while I secretly pined for Sharon, I enjoyed every aspect of college life.

Catholic Girls Start Much Too Late:

When I left for break, I was depressed. Carla was off to Israel to work and vacation with her Uncle's family in Tel Aviv. I wouldn't see her until a week before fall term started. The only bright spot was the fact that Craig and I had secured employment at the seashore for the summer. Luckily, we found a small apartment for rent that fit our budget.

Roberta or Bobbi, my girlfriend at home was waiting for me when I pulled into the driveway. I wrote to her at least once a week but never told her anything concerning my affair with Carla. I didn't have the heart because she was a genuinely nice person. Bobbi and I had met in high school. She was a very smart junior with aspirations of a medical career.

I borrowed my dad's station wagon and we drove to Gerhinger's Park along the river. Bobbi was graduating high school in less than a month and was spending the summer at the seashore working at Pete's Beach Grille with her cousin Nina. I had long anticipated this as an opportunity for Bobbi to open up sexually.

However, after a semester at college under Carla's tutelage, it all seemed so childish. Strangely, all we did that first night was make out and fondle body parts with our clothes on. Bobbi seemed to be disinterested or distracted and immediately I suspected that I wasn't the only person who was unfaithful.

At her post graduation/18th birthday party, Bobbi was preoccupied, talking to a handsome athletic looking guy and I knew right away that he was the one. At the seashore I kept a low profile and wondered when she was going to break up with me. Suddenly, my summer looked grim.

"Forget about it!" Craig told me.

He saw it as a golden opportunity for me to score with different chicks. "Dude, we got plenty a weed, pretty good shit too. Some strange poon will do you a world of good."

One morning during the first week I ran into Bobbi walking to work and she invited me over that evening to spend some time with her. She was staying with her aunt only two blocks from the beach. As we strolled on the shoreline, Bobbi informed me that her cousin Nina was arriving the next day.

"She's a real sweetheart, you'll like her. She graduated from Cardinal Dougherty High School last year."

"Cool." Why she seemed so eager for me to meet her cousin was a mystery to me.

"Oh yeah, I...ah...wanted to tell you that...you see, Rick..." she stammered.

"You don't have to explain, you like somebody else."

Bobbi stared at me with a stunned expression. My reaction surprised me, I wasn't angry just a little annoyed. I'd lost interest in her while I was away at school and considering her saintly attitude toward sex, it was undoubtedly for the best.

I pulled a fat doobie from my shirt pocket. "For old times sake?" I asked.

"Yeah, cool."

My brother Steve had given me some very potent pot for the trip and after only a couple of hits, we were stoned! By the time we found our way back to her aunt's house, we were giggling. Everyone had gone to the boardwalk and as we sat in living room reminiscing about old times, Bobbi's face became serious

"Thanks for understanding," she said, and hugged me tenderly.

The pot had made me horny as a jack rabbit on a date and surprisingly, Bobbi's hand was on the front of my jeans. I guess it made her horny too because she had that "look" in her eyes.

We ran up to her bedroom and collapsed on her bed. As we kissed, she humped my thigh and I was determined to show her my new skill. When I started pulling her shorts off, Bobbi mildly protested but she didn't stop me either. We had never indulged in oral sex because her adherence to her Catholic faith prevented it. But, as Bob Dylan said, "the times they are a changing".

When I buried my face in her silky muff, Bobbi sighed and held my head, pulling me closer. I used every technique that Carla had taught me and feasted on my ex-girlfriend until she bellowed and shrieked with orgasmic fury.

As Bobbi settled down with a starry-eyed look, she fumbled with my jeans buckle. I was grateful that she would jack me off, a common exercise when we "parked". Only her head was descending along with my denims. I watched in awe as she licked the solid shaft and head. Little by little, she drew my entire cock into her mouth and sucked the head with every upstroke.

There was no way this was her first BJ. She must have been blowing Brock since I left for college last winter; so much for her parochial upbringing. I realized it was a matter of the right dude or in this case the right pot for her to abandon her strict beliefs.

Steadily, Bobbi worked up and down until the jism seethed maddeningly in my nuts. When she cupped my balls and took the entire length in one smooth movement, I popped like a cork. Overall it was a very satisfying end to our relationship.

Summer Love with a Twist:

The next day, Bobbi showed up at Willy's Arcade, my place of employment, with Nina. She looked like Bobbi with long brunette hair, medium size boobs and a pretty, ethnic looking face. She wore her Italian heritage proudly as fine, downy hairs covered her arms. I could only guess what her crotch looked like but suffice to say I later learned that it was bushy.

I was feeling a little blue after my breakup with Bobbi but Nina did her best to help me forget. When Bobbi became preoccupied with Brock, Nina and I hung out a lot together. If it was intentional or not on her part, I can't be sure but we got on like old friends and there was a distinct connection between us. I think she liked me as much as I liked her.

Nina was a heck of a lot of fun to be with. At the beach, she was usually clad in a flower print bikini that barely covered her assets. It was daring by the standards of the day but it looked great on her and every guy nearby had his tongue hanging out. My God, I thought on many occasions, she looked so fucking sexy.

Shit, with Carla in Israel and Bobbi blowing Brock, I was up for a summer romance.

We romped in the surf and built drizzle castles at the water's edge. Long walks to the pier were capped off with a toke or two on a joint. Under the influence, I would try my best not to leer at Nina's sumptuous body but she didn't seem to mind at all.

While it worried me that Nina might think our new friendship was more like that of siblings, I found out via Bobbi that she had broken up with her boyfriend during spring break and was on the prowl.

One sultry afternoon, right before the July Fourth holiday, we were having a siesta on the beach, just the two of us. I was dying to kiss her but was waiting for the right moment. We were both pleasantly high when dark threatening clouds started rolling in and we walked under the pier to avoid the deluge. Nina leaned against a piling and with the sound of the waves, rain and seagulls filling the air we kissed for the first time.

When I pulled back to assess the situation, the look in her eyes told me to keep going. We made out passionately as only two horny teens could, while around us the angry clouds emptied their contents.

On the way back to the blanket, we held hands and by that evening it was official: we were an item. Nina's approach to sex was much more open than Bobbi's. Most girls who attended Catholic school leaned toward the conservative "I'm saving it for marriage" approach to sex. However, a year away at college had worked wonders for Nina. She was into oral sex and saw it as a means to forego intercourse and its dire implications, namely pregnancy. Oral contraception was in its infancy and rubbers or condoms were a cumbersome affair. The thickness of the ill-fitting latex was a definite liability.