Werewoman Joni

Doing a skip-run after his feet hit the ground as he exited the diesel shuttle bus toward the electric trolley bus at the end terminal at Woodman and Patterson, George knew the trolley wouldn't leave him, but he hustled just in case it might. The shoulder strap of the guitar's gig bag slipped down his arm and he made a wild-ass grab to keep from dropping it on the entrance steps of the trolley. He dropped in his token into the fare box and the driver let off the brakes and the bus lurched forward, causing George to grab the hand railing to regain his balance as he plopped down into the nearest seat right next to Joni Skylar, almost squashing her as the bus pulled out onto the street. "Sorry, ma'am," apologized George as he settled into the seat.

"Ma'am?" protested Joni as George turned to her to recognize her as the now voluptuous raven-haired gal who lives across the street from his band mate Tim's place. Joni was always a frequent spectator whenever Asgard practiced in Tim's folks' garage. "Who're you calling 'ma'am'? Do I look like your grandma?"

George was quick with a smartass retort. Sucking his lips in to emulate a toothless old man, "Sorrry, lady, er Joni. Had to do a double-take to recognize you with your dentures in!" Joni, punched him then pinched him as she saw the tuning pegs of the bass guitar poking through the ripped gig bag.

"Wiseguy! Where you going with that beat-up bass? You normally play lead and rhythm."

"Headed downtown to get a replacement tuning peg for the one on the end that got bent up. Got it at a yard sale yesterday for 20 bucks. One string's missing and two others need replaced 'cuz the flat winding frayed in a couple of places. Jerry at the music shop on First Street's gonna show me how to do the luthier thing to restring this monster. Never restrung a bass before and winding thick strings is gonna be a challenge."

"But Tim's already your bassist. Why do you need one?"

"We're working on a couple of tunes like the Beatles' 'Think for Yourself' that require two bass guitars. Where are you headed today in this cold drizzly rain?"

"Oh, Mom, wants me to return two sweaters to Elder Beerman that were too small for my Big Bro 'Kong' that my aunt got him for Christmas."

George laughed. Her brother Rex acquired the nickname King Kong due to his large and slightly overweight frame. "He's gonna finish those chef classes downtown and make good on his promise to open his own pizzeria, isn't he? Your mom invested in Rex just after your dad passed away so that Rex could become a chef. He throws a really decent pizza crust. He's been trying to teach me the technique, but I don't have it down pat yet. That bar-b-que pizza he came up with last spring is already at hit on Third Street. Gawd, I burnt the roof of my mouth last time I was there and got me a slice of it. Did they ever get Pepsi to come and fix that soda machine that spat out too much carbonated water and ruined the soft drinks?"

"Yeah, and he got his certificate, diploma or whatever-the-hell-ya-call-it last month. He's working sometimes double shifts on Third Street when the other cook doesn't show up. When is Asgard gonna rehearse at Tim's next? You guys haven't treated the neighborhood to any good 'concerts' lately."

"Tim and I plan to get the kinks ironed out on 'Think for Yourself' tonight and tomorrow evening once I get this old Harmony bass refurbished. We'll do another full band rehearsal probably next weekend if it doesn't snow or rain like today. Are you still okay with sitting in that lawn chair in the corner while we rehearse? Do you and Tim's girlfriend still compete with who sits in that particular lawn chair? It never seems to leave that corner."

"Yeah, the lawn chair's fine, but Marci and I tussel over it 'cuz it puts her within butt-pinching range of Tim. It's hilarious when she makes him jump!"

"Ooooh! So that's why he jumps unexpectedly when we play and then turns around to grin at Marci. Explains a lot. We'll have to start razzing Tim about that. Guess we'll hafta start with complimenting him on being such a cheeky guy."

"Ha! We're descending Wayne Ave now. There's Esther Price's chocolate shop over on the left. You still owe your mom a box of light chocolate caramels for embarrassing her at Rinks last week?"

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me. Got myself in further hot water with her yesterday."

"Oh? What'd ya do this time?"

"Well, Mom had just gotten home from work at Rinks and was primping and preening in front of the bathroom mirror getting ready for a dinner at Lodge with Dad. She hauled out that pump spray bottle of Wella Balsam and was re-stiffening her beehive hairdo with that stuff. Mom's the only woman I know who doesn't use Lady Claire-Hulk spray in an aeosol can. No, she uses that Wella Balsam shit from a pump spray bottle. I swear that stuff smells exactly like lacquer thinner! Anyhow, as she went to spraying her hair, I leaned in the lintel of the bathroom doorway and struck a match. Mom's eyes got as big as saucers and then she grabbed Dad's little glass of Efferdent that he uses to soak his prosthetic front tooth. I was too close to dodge and the hallway was too narrow, and, PLOOSH! Mom got me smack in the middle of the chest with the Efferdent. Got all over the hallway floor and down into the cold air duct on the floor. Got told to clean it all up every drop!"

Joni was in stitches and agreed with Mom's calling me a hateful despisable brat just like she's done at Rinks when I pranked her there. (Although, the word's supposed to be "despicable", George's grandma coined "despisable" as an alternative, and it became a regular "family lore" vocabulary entry.) George made a mental note to stop there and get a box of chocolates if the store was still open by the time he made the return trip from the bass guitar repair. "Do I get a reward for reminding you?" Joni asked batting her eyes.

"How 'bout a nice bag of licorice sticks?" Joni poked him defiantly. George made another mental note to get Joni a nice cream filled chocolate egg and have "Thanks, Babe" written on it at the counter. "Yeah, I'll do a little better than licorice," George chuckled.

Joni disembarked on Main at Third Street close to Elder Beerman. "Here's hoping they don't have to shear a flock of sheep to resize these sweaters for The Kong," snickered Joni as she got out of her seat to get off the bus. "I'll be waiting for my chocolate treat, George!" She just had to get that final jab in there.

The bass repair only took an hour and a half, so there was plenty of time to stop by Esther Price's and load up on caramels for Mom, an egg for Joni, some jelly beans for his youngest siblings, and a sampler box for his Aunt whom he knew would be there gabbing with his mother when he got home. He'd present Joni her egg later when he and Tim got together on the bass lines. She only lived across the street from Tim, so it would be a "given" that she'd come over when he got with Tim.

She showed up just as George was tuning up the refurbished Harmony bass. "Hey, the crackling hiss is gone," remarked Tim. "Did you have to clean up the electrical contacts and the volume and tone controls?"

"Yeah, took the plastic pick guard plate clean off and scraped out some grape goo and sprayed out the controls with solvent. Looks like someone had spilled some Nehi grape soda into the pickup area. Okay, you take the fuzz bass line and I'll do the normal bass line. Lemme know when to hit the cassette deck's play button."

Joni volunteered to man the cassette deck and volume controls. Normal bass volume just a bit lower than Tim's fuzz bass. Fuzz box and the bass made a irritating scraping noise at first until the setting was lowered waaaay down. Otherwise it sounded like scooting a stone slab off a sarcophagus. Neat Halloween idea, but not today. After a couple of times through, George decided to lift up the Esther Price bag and taunt Joni. "Lookie here, I know you're just smackin' yer lips!"

She snatched the bag from George. "Lemme see whatcha got me, you nasty bastard!"

George guffawed and winked at Tim's girl Marci, "Well, my social status has just been elevated! Normally, I'd get a 'you creep' out of Joni, but today, well, I'm a 'nasty bastard'. Don't ask me what the difference is, it's a woman thing... we guys just don't understand, I guess." That got George a swat on the butt with a rolled up magazine, one of Tim's Playboys, no less!

"Well, are you gonna present it to me like a gentleman, or what?" George got the hint and went theatrical, taking the boxed chocolate egg, and presented it to Joni with his left knee bent, which detail Joni caught immediately. "Oh, why the left knee?"

"Well, 'cuz nothin' we guys do is ever right anyway, hence the left knee." That got George another clop over his head with the magazine. Got lots of laughs.

"So much for Prince Charming and the Princess!" offered Tim.

"Well," smiled George, "That's 'cuz I'm not Prince Charming; why, I'm the Maharajah of Mulberry Street! Are ya gonna open the box, Joni, or just stand there gawking at it?"

"Gimme dat!" Joni pouted snatching the box and bag out of George's hands. She liked the "Thanks, Babe" message on the egg. She and Marci cut it up into thin slices to share with everyone.

George left the bass at Tim's place and walked Joni across the street. He had to sit down with Joni's mom to see how she was doing in the wake of her husband's loss. She was doing a heck of a lot better than she was at the funeral a few months ago. George presented her with a bottle of his homebrewed dark Ale for which George had created a label: Viking Bane (in runes and English) with a caption saying that it had been brewed with waters flowing forth from The Fountain of Couth and that it might prove to be toxic to those of Scandanavian descent.

Okay, dear readers, here's where the story begins to get steamy, erotic, really filthy. Just what you've scrolled down this far to get to, you perverts, you!

"Why don't we walk the block and a half to see your folks, George? I haven't seen them since I was in high school. I bump into your sister every now and then at the mall or at Kroger, but that's about it."

George agreed, and they set out in the cold drizzle with slick chunks of sidewalk ice crackling beneath their feet. Only one car in the driveway. Did they all go somewhere? George got them in through the back door into the kitchen. His mom left a note saying they had all gone to the Mall and to get a pizza afterwards. "They'll be back in a while, but they must've just left. The percolator pot on the stove is still hot. Well, have a seat and we'll split whatever hot coffee is left in the pot. Cream and sugar?"

"Both," said Joni. "Ooooo, your hands are ice cold! Here, wrap your hands around your mug to get 'em warm."

"Yep, doing that. Wow, first time we've been alone in a couple of years. Are you terrified that I might turn into a werewolf and attack you?"

"I wish, but we need to get your hands warmed up first. Nothing kills the mood quicker than a set of cold werewolf paws ripping off my clothes and getting his hands into my panties!"

"Whoa, girl! I knew you were the outspoken type, candid and speak your mind, but, wow, today, you've turned aggressive, a werewoman!"

"Well, at least you're gonna kiss me and nurse on my titties, aren't you? Last time we were alone, I wanted you to take me out in that dark schoolyard on that hot summer day. My titties were still just little mandarin oranges then. But you kept your hands to yourself and refused to manhandle me."

"You had just turned 18 then, Joni, just barely legal, you and I both knew that. All you had on that night was a T-shirt jersey with #12 on it, a bra, a pair of tight-fitting shorts, panties and a pair of sandals. You had me really hot and bothered, we were both breathing heavily, and I was tempted to start feeling you up. But I stopped myself cold. I'd been constantly preached at that I was destined to go to college and that to show restraint, I'd needed to do what my dad refused to do at my age. Grandpa and Grandma wanted him to go to college, too, but he was a skirt chaser. He didn't keep his dick in his pants and got my mom knocked up during her senior year in high school. It was a shotgun wedding. My eldest sister was born 3 months premature in the days when infant care technology was a joke. My sister lived only 9 days, constantly screaming and crying. Mom and Dad never talked about it, and my older sister and I discovered the birth certificate when we were doing a thorough house cleaning when we here in high school. Dad's youngest sister told us the details when we revealed what we discovered to her. But while I was holding you close that night, I squeezed your butt gently and felt that you were apparently wearing a kotex pad in your panties, indicating what my nose had already told me as we were kissing. The odor was distinct: a woman on the rag. And you confirmed that as I walked you home that night. When I got home that night, I walked out behind the garage, pulled out my cock, and ejaculated several huge spurts of sperm into the raspberry bushes. I don't think I had ever shot that much sperm in all my life up to that point, and remember thinking that I was glad that I didn't try to have sex with you that night."

Joni laughed quietly. "Gosh, you remember every detail quite well, just as I do. It was like yesterday. The memory of it all is so clear. I was bleeding that night, and we would've made a really bad mess. But I'm not barely-legal anymore, George, and I still want you as badly now as I did on that night."

"A bit of deja-vu, then, Joni. When I kissed you a moment ago, I squeezed your butt again gently, and even with cold numb fingers, I could feel that you're wearing a thick 'sanitary napkin'. Am I right on that?"

"Yeah, I'm afraid so, George. And if we do anything now, there'll be one hell of a mess to clean up. And although having sex during a menstrual cycle is actually a 'safe' time, it's definitely messy, smelly, and hygienically unsafe. Do you want tp catch my unclean cooties?"

"Uh, no, we'd need to postpone things for at least a week or so. I've got a physics lab routine to complete in Sandusky next week, then I have to do my solo flight to obtain my private pilot license. I'll be out of touch for almost 2 weeks. After finals in March, I plan to visit Gatlinburg TN. Could you take time off your waitress job to come with me? Asgard's got two gigs lined up in Gatlinburg, so it'll be a working vacation for me, Tim and the boys. Marci'll be there, too, so you'd have company."

"If I can't get the time off, I'll quit and get new job when I get back."

"Joni," said George holding her face with still cold hands, "This needs to be a time for us to get acquainted, not a time to make any rash promises or long-range plans. Tim's folks are as adamant about his getting a college degree as are mine, so you and Marci will need to room together at the No Tell Motel. Our folks will check it, too, your Mom, my folks, Tim's folks, Marci's folks... you know the drill with parents. Marci and Tim are already practically engaged but they've both agreed to no serious hanky-panky until Tim gets his degree. I think Tim's gonna pop the question to Marci in Gatlinburg, but you can't reveal to anyone that you know anything about this... you okay with that?"

"You mean like cross my heart and hope to die?"

"Yeah, boil in oil and fry in lye, stick a needle in your eye!" Joni laughed and agreed to the secret. "You and I have often been at almost violent odds with each other over the years. I know you're very frustrated with me for not showing even a smidgeon of commitment to you or offering a glimmer of hope to you. We're both opinionated, outspoken, and have differences in viewpoints, some of them serious enough to probably justify going our separate ways. I don't know. Hell, we never got to know each other over the years. I've had to carefully guard my feelings and not allow myself to get overly emotionally attached to anyone. It's dangerous for me."

"Dangerous? How so?"

"I've been highly infatuated with a couple of girls along the way, and it never, ever, ended up well. Too many girls have said to me that I show promise, but promise is not solid accomplishment. Most girls our ages seem to want a self-made man who already has his schooling, his military obligation behind him. They want a guy who already has a mortgage on a house, a house fully furnished, a stable job with good income, money in the bank, a nice car. Well, I ain't there yet, and it'll be a few more years until I am there. I don't have sugar daddy qualifications yet, and it has always hurt tremendously to get dumped because of that. Hell, I'm batting a thousand here - negative numbers, mind you. But I know my own psychological tendencies: when I fall, I fall like a ton of bricks, but the bricks fall back onto me and it's hard as hell to dig myself out of a landslide."

"Do I scare you?"

"Well, no, at least not right now. Like I said, I barely even know you. You might not like me in the long run. For all I know, you might be expecting me to be Joe Studd in bed. But let me set you straight on that. I have zero experience under the sheets, lady, zero. Oh, I've read some of the literature about what to do, etc., but I have yet to get laid." George had to catch his breath and tell himself to stop, but his eyes had already watered over and he felt himself shaking. He was betraying himself.

Joni stood in silence staring into George's eyes. "I never want to hurt you, George. I didn't know you were this sensitive. I admit you have my hopes up with the invitation to accompany you in Gatlinburg, but I, too, will have to guard my feelings and fight against my female nature by not allowing myself to see too much you too fast or to expect what you cannot deliver. Like you, I've never gotten laid, but can we agree to at least try to develop a technique that will satisfy us both?"

"Yes, because without that, no matter what else we do, we'll fall flat on our faces."

"Why are you suddenly snickering, George?"

"I was just thinking about how much Marci has changed with the way she deals with Tim. It's like she knows and senses that she can finally start to claim him as her own. She's gotten bossy, which Tim admits he needs but never to her, 'cuz he's like me, too laid back for his own good and needs Marci to prod his hulking ass to get things done. He's already joking that she seems to live to tell him 'I toooooold you!'"

Joni kissed George. "Hold me, George!" He did and returned her kiss passionately. She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled up her bra. "Kiss and taste these, George." He was rewarded by droplets of milk on her nipples, which he licked up gently. "I'm like my mother and lactate without being pregnant or with an infant. I know your hands are still cold, but suck them gently, George."

The crunch of ice altered them that George's folks were backing into the driveway. Joni readjusted her bra and blouse. Joni gritted her teeth: "Suckus Interruptus!" Reunion time. George's dad did a quick visual size-up of Joni. He recognized her, but gave George an approving wink. Joni was no longer the scrawny gal with knobby knees who formerly looked like a zipper when you turned her sideways and got her to stick out her tongue. George's mom glared at his dad with a "you dirty old man" look. George's dad only wiggled his eyebrows up and down at that.

George walked Joni home and told her he'd call her in a few weeks when he blew back into town. Then there'd be the wait until the Gatlinburg gig / trip.

The Asgard bus was backed into Tim's folks' driveway 3 days earlier than the scheduled departure to Gatlinburg. Joni about panicked when her mom called with "the bus sighting". Her mom knew it would take time for Tim and George to load up all the gear, wiring, sound equipment, scaffolding, lighting and sound mixers onto the bus. Then there'd come the luggage, the instruments, the food, coolers... Joni didn't figure that all in. She thought George would leave with Asgard early and not take her. She was about to start hyperventilating when Marci walked into the restaurant to fill her in on the details. Joni had managed to get a leave of absence, but with a lot of flak from the restaurant owners and staff. Marci joked with Joni about not having her luggage packed already, telling her all she really needed was her cosmetic bag and a negligee. Joni let out a worried laugh. Winter weather watches squashed any chances of last minute rehearsals from the garage.