Going Home – a Foundation

Pasadena, California September 17, 1946

I arrived at the women's dorm about fifteen minutes late. Gwen was chatting with a girl at the front desk that looked to be about fifteen. Gwen's face lit up when she saw me come through the door. She quickly said goodbye to the girl and gave me a sisterly hug before locking her arm in mine and leading me back through the front door. I don't think I was in the lobby a minute.

We walked aimlessly for a bit and talked about our first weeks at Cal Tech. Before long we found ourselves off campus in a mixed-use neighborhood. The area had a number of two-story buildings with small shops on the street level and apartments on the second floor.

We were hungry and settled on a little family-owned Italian restaurant. Despite having spent several weeks in Italy, I didn't recognize anything on the menu. Gwen suggested we share a pizza and I agreed, not really knowing what to expect. I didn't find it particularly appealing and Gwen wasn't impressed either. We washed it down with bottles of Coca-Cola. Gwen assured me that pizza was much better in Massachusetts.

We held hands as we walked back to campus. That was as hot as our 'first' date got. Despite the chaste evening, I was still walking on air. I was with Gwen. I couldn't think of better company. Gwen seemed nearly as happy but definitely had her sex drive under control. At least it seemed that way. When we got to her dorm, we stopped outside. Men weren't allowed into the lobby after 8:00. I was surprised how fast the evening had gone. Gwen gave me a kiss on the cheek, and, much to my chagrin, another sisterly hug.

With her chin on my shoulder as she squeezed gently, she whispered. 'It won't always be like tonight.' Then she released the hug and ran through the door into the dorm.

Our schedules kept us from seeing each other for nearly two weeks. Between my class schedule, teaching responsibilities, and Dr. Evans research tasks, I often didn't get to bed much before midnight and was up in the morning before 6:00AM. Nearly every minute of my day was filled with responsibilities of some sort. I rarely saw my roommates. Gwen and I did talk every night. While I had privacy during our calls because I was in an apartment, Gwen had to use a phone in a hallway. Weekends were not much of a break. Dr. Evans scheduled lab time for both Saturdays and my first Sunday was spent grading exams, organizing my research for a paper, and preparing lesson plans. Gwen found her course load grueling and spent as much time hitting the books as I did. Her work on Dr. Evans' project wasn't difficult technically she told me, just time-consuming.

I met Gwen at 7:30 AM on the second Sunday. I had made time to shop on Saturday and had assembled a picnic lunch for a hike we planned in a nearby canyon. I also bought a couple of canteens and a canvas backpack. A Geology grad I knew had an old Dodge pick-up and was giving us a ride. He planned to do field work while we went on our hike.

As Gwen and I made our way across campus to meet our ride, I spotted my father walking parallel to us in the opposite direction. When he saw me, he cut across the lawn between us. He was smiling widely but hadn't said a word when he took me in his arms for a hug.

My father was a bit shorter than my six feet but more heavily muscled. He kept himself in good shape, running every morning before starting his day. Where I had the lean physique of a distance runner, he was built like a gymnast. His curly, dark brown hair now had some gray peppering the sides of his head. The war really showed in his face. He looked older than he was but remained energetic and active. To be honest, I had mixed feelings. I was glad to see him, but also didn't want to change my plans with Gwen.

After releasing me, still smiling widely, he turned to Gwen and offered his hand. 'Hello, I'm Harold Taylor, Jonas' father.'

Gwen smiled back at him, took his hand and moved in to give him a hug with her free arm. 'I'm Gwen Kenrick. It's nice to meet you, sir.'

'Jonas hasn't mentioned you, but I'm not surprised. If I were him, I'd keep a pretty girl like you a secret, too.' He said with a big smile. 'Kenrick? Your accent is unmistakably Boston. I did post-doctoral work at Tufts and Northeastern before Jonas was born. I loved living in Boston.'

'Yes, sir. Kenrick. I am from Massachusetts. My family lives in a small town about thirty miles west of Boston.'

'Hi, Dad. It's good to see you. But what are you doing here? Come to see me?' I asked curiously.

'No, no, Jonas. I'd have called and arranged something first. I know how busy you are. I'm here to visit a friend on the faculty here. Someone I've known for many years. We're going to spend the day together and go to a football game. It looks like you two have plans for the day as well.'

'Yes, we're meeting a friend and going for a hike and picnic in a nearby canyon.' I told him.

'Well, don't let me keep you. Why don't we get together in two weeks? Gwen is welcome, too, if she'd like to come.'

'Sounds good, Dad. I'll call one night this week and we can plan something.'

'Enjoy your picnic. I'm sure you can use a break and this is certainly looking like a nice day to be outdoors. I'll see you in two weeks, Jonas.' he said as he walked away.

Gwen was quiet for a bit, lost in thought. "Your dad is quite handsome.' she finally said. 'He's older than I thought he'd be. I guessed he'd be about my Dad's age because I'm only a year older than you. And he looks familiar for some reason.'

'Well, he's not really old.' I answered. 'He's forty-six. But, yes he looks older. I think what he did in the war was hard on him. I know he's still struggling with losing my mother. But I doubt you've met him. We moved to Switzerland from Washington, DC when I was nine. I don't remember living anywhere else.'

'No, I don't think I've met him. But there's something familiar about your dad. I feel it in my gut.' she said.

By this time, we were at the parking lot where we were meeting Pete Kantor, our ride to the canyon. He barreled into the parking lot just after we arrived. He said hello and told us to hop in the pick-up bed. The bench seat was a wreck on the passenger side. Textbooks, journals, USGS maps, and notebooks filled the floor on that side.

Pete was a geology grad student in his late twenties. He was about Gwen's height and rail thin, probably weighed less than Gwen. His dark hair was unfashionably long and unruly. He had a short, neatly trimmed beard and mustache. He wore a beat-up felt cowboy hat with a wide brim. Pete always seemed a bit unkempt and disheveled, especially when wearing a suit. Though I didn't know it then, he would become a life-long friend.

Gwen and I hopped in the bed and leaned against the bed behind the cab. The small rear cab window was missing. A small, battered, ice chest was secured near the tailgate on one side. A long wooden crate secured on the other contained an assortment of hammers, picks, crowbars, and chisels. Two five-gallon jerry cans were secured next to the box. An Army duffel bag lay on the bed under a sledgehammer.

We talked to Pete as he drove to the canyon. He had a growing interest in seismology and was working with a faculty geologist that was trying to develop a new method of mapping faults. Today he planned on walking part of the canyon to look for visible signs of a suspected fault and mapping his observations. He also planned to collect rock and mineral specimens if he found anything interesting.

Pete knew I was working with Dr. Evans, who he saw occasionally in the lab with his project leader, and asked about the project. I couldn't tell him anything. Dr. Evans insisted no one discuss the project outside of the project team. Plus, I was building an apparatus that had only been vaguely defined. Evans was keeping details to himself.

'I'm not sure how long I'll be but figure on it being nearly dark when I get back to the parking area.' Pete told us. 'I hope that's not too late for you. I want to cover as much ground as I can today but I know I'll be back because there's too much going on around here to find it all today. I see you have canteens. The chest has a block of ice and the jerry cans are full of water. There's an icepick in a paper bag in the glove box. There's also a bag with paper cups up here on the seat. Drink as much as you can while you're out and help yourself to water and ice when you get back to the parking area. You'll need it.' By this time, we were at the canyon. Pete parked and hopped out. He talked a mile a minute as he prepared his gear.

'I'm going that way,' he said, pointing to the north. 'It's not really a trail. It's pretty rugged and won't be much fun. I'm going to be whipped when I get back. I suggest you and Gwen take that trail over there, pointing east. There are some nice areas to have a picnic. There are a couple of trail options about a mile or so in. Pay attention to the landmarks so you don't get lost. I know you did some mountain hiking while you were in Switzerland, Jonas, but this isn't the same. It'll get pretty hot and it's dry so you can get dehydrated. Take it slow. Not many people come up here before late October so there isn't likely to be anyone on the trails. You don't want to be up here overnight. I'll see you late this afternoon.'

Before we knew it, Pete was off and almost immediately disappeared from sight. I was amazed at the amount of heavy gear he was carrying. After Gwen got covered up to protect her fair complexion, we took the trail Pete recommended. We came to a fork after about an hour. I started to go to the right but Gwen stopped me. 'Let's go this way!' she said enthusiastically.

'OK. Any particular reason why?' I asked.

She pointed to a small, weather-beaten wooden sign nailed to a dead tree trunk. It pointed in the direction she wanted to go and said 'The trail less traveled' in faded, hand-painted red letters. 'Someone paraphrased Robert Frost. Let's go see why!' she said.

We headed off in Gwen's chosen direction. I followed Gwen. I wanted to enjoy not only the canyon scenery but also the view of her shapely ass as it moved in the loose skirt she wore. The trail was flat for a few hundred yards then began a steady, steep climb. After about a mile of continuous and sometimes very steep climbing Gwen looked over her shoulder at me. Her face was red from exertion.

'I think I know why this is the trail less traveled.' she said. 'If this climb keeps up much longer, I'm going to suggest we turn back.' I was almost as hot as Gwen looked. 'It is steep. Pete was right. This is nothing like hiking in the Alps. Do you want to turn back now?'

'No, let's go on a bit further. It's all downhill on the way back.'

'That doesn't mean it's easier, Gwen. Going down is harder in some ways. You'll be tired and more likely to fall and get hurt.'

'I don't want to turn back just yet. Let's go just a little further.'

The trail leveled off a few hundred yards later and another trail came in from our right. We went around a bend in the trail and came upon a rock face. We could hear running water but didn't see it immediately. In a recess in the cliff, a narrow stream of water fell from about thirty feet into a shallow, roughly triangular pool shaded by the rock face, then after another short drop into a narrow stream bed, ran down away from us toward a stand of alders. Gwen's spirits brightened.

'This is more like it!' she said. 'Let's cool off and then we can have lunch under those trees.' Gwen sat on a rock and took off her boots and socks. She lifted her skirt and waded into the pool. 'This feels great!' she cried out.

I took off my boots and socks, rolled up the legs of my pants and joined her. The water was cool and felt good on my overheated feet. We made our way over to the water fall and enjoyed the mist bouncing off the surface.

Gwen suddenly turned and hustled back toward her boots. She shed her blouse and skirt and then headed back to the waterfall. She went under it, still wearing her big floppy cotton hat and let the water wash over her. After I admired Gwen's lithe figure for a moment, I figured, why not? I shed my shirt, tee shirt, and pants and joined her, wearing only my undershorts. The water felt great.

After we had cooled off, we made our way to a spot under the alders that was sheltered from view from the trail. The humidity was so low we were soon dry. I opened up the backpack and took out a blanket and spread it on the ground, then started to get dressed.

'What are you doing?' Gwen asked.

I was unsure what she meant by the question until I saw the smoky look in her eyes. Gwen put her arms around my neck and kissed me passionately. She let go of my neck, reached behind her and unhooked her bra, allowing it to fall to the grass. Never breaking our kiss, she grabbed the waist band of my shorts and pushed them down where they pooled around my ankles. Not surprisingly, I was already erect.

Gwen reached around me and caressed my ass with one hand and pulled my hand to her breast with the other. She broke the kiss and put her head on my shoulder as I caressed a nipple. 'I've been waiting for some time alone with you since I spotted you at Norman Bridge.' she whispered. A hand traced its way from my ass across my waist and then down the length of my cock, barely touching me the entire way. When it reached my testes, the hand gently tickled the back of my sac while it rested in her palm.

'I want you in me,' she breathed huskily, then stepped back. 'But we can't. I had a scare after I got home from Paris. I was late and terrified I was pregnant. I missed my period completely. But, just as I was considering making a doctor appointment, my next cycle came right on time.'

The sudden turn in the conversation put an immediate damper on my arousal. 'I'm sorry,' I said.

'Don't be. It wasn't entirely your fault. It's not like you pressured me or forced yourself on me. I was responsible, too. And it was my decision to have intercourse.'

'Yeah, but it was you that was going to have a baby. You knew my name and that I was going to school in the US. You might not have ever found me again.' I said.

Gwen smiled. 'Oh, I would have looked for you. My father is pretty well-off. He would have hired an entire detective agency and upended heaven and hell to find the scum that got his little girl pregnant,' she laughed. 'But it doesn't matter. I'm not and I found you anyway. That's the important thing.'

'Why didn't you bring it up while we were walking the night we had dinner at that Italian restaurant? We spent a couple hours together. We could have talked about it then.'

'I don't know. I was really happy to see you. But I wasn't sure if I would feel the same way in a more ordinary setting. Plus, I didn't know how you would feel. Would you spend time with me only because of how we spent it in Europe? I thought you were happy to see me at Norman Bridge, but you seemed really taken aback and nervous, too,' she told me.

'I was nervous, Gwen. I was also surprised and really happy to see you again. And I'm not the kind of guy that would look to take advantage of you,' I responded.

'I knew that after our walk and dinner. All the same feelings came back. You were still sweet and open and honest. And I could tell you were glad to see me. But what convinced me you were a good guy was you walked me back to the dorm and never even asked for a kiss. The most suggestive thing you did was hold my hand.'

Gwen looked down at my now flaccid cock. 'Maybe this wasn't the best time to bring that all up. But I didn't want things to go too far before I told you. And I didn't want to talk about it on the telephone. We could never coordinate a chance to get together until today.'

'So we need to cool it and take things slower?' I asked?

'I didn't say that!' she grinned. 'We just have to be more careful and we shouldn't go all the way for now. But I still want you! And I think we can come up with an idea or two.'

Gwen kissed me again. With as much passion as her earlier kiss. Our hands explored and caressed and we slowly worked our way down to lie facing each other on the blanket. I was erect again and Gwen's hands soon found my cock and began to tease, using her feathery touch. Just when I thought I would go off, she let go of my cock, pushed me onto my back and straddled my head.

I could smell the musk of her arousal. I looked up at her pussy and could see she was wet. Her mons was pink behind her sparse, auburn curls. Her hand appeared and two fingers slid between her lips into her vagina. They slowly moved toward her clit, a trail of her slippery fluid following behind the fingers. I heard her inhale sharply when the fingers contacted her sensitive little button.

I wrapped my arms around her thighs and lifted my mouth toward her. My tongue slipped between her pussy lips and probed. Gwen groaned and lowered herself toward me. My tongue was lodged between her lips and I dragged it through her lips and across her clit. Gwen sighed loudly when my tongue contacted her clit. 'I can't begin to tell you how good that feels,' she whispered.

Gwen shook and pressed herself onto my face and I sucked her clit in between my lips and flicked my tongue across it several times before the movement of her hips took her clit out of reach. I stuck my tongue into her again and her hips began moving her pussy back and forth on my lower face. Her clit dragged across my chin to my tongue and finally stopped at my nose before it reversed direction.

Suddenly, her pussy was gone. Gwen pivoted on her left knee and so she faced my feet, then lifted her left knee and again straddled my face. The entire move took seconds but it seemed like a month before my tongue was back on her clit. When my tongue reentered her, her upper torso collapsed forward, her breasts on my abdomen. Two hands fondled my testicles and I felt her hot breath just before my cock enveloped in her warm, wet mouth. Gwen's tongue swirled around the head of my cock. Each time my tongue split her lips and entered her vagina, a short grunt emanated from deep in her chest. When my tongue flicked across her clit, Gwen groaned so loudly that I felt the vibration not only on my cock but also in my balls.

While my tongue licked and probed Gwen's pussy, she sucked my cock. Her mouth was watering. Saliva ran down my shaft and soaked my balls. My cock was in warm, wet heaven. Gwen's slick fluids coated my lips and tongue, and wet both cheeks. As I stuck my tongue into her, spasms began to ripple in her vagina. When I dragged my tongue across her clit, Gwen's nervous system overloaded. Her mouth released my cock and she bolted upright. Her hips thrashed up and down my face. I moved my arms from the grip on her thighs and held her hips tightly. I pulled my mouth to her pussy, stuck my tongue into her vagina then moved to suck in her clit. Gwen shook violently and collapsed forward again.

This time, her mouth engulfed my entire cock, her lips bottoming out. I put two fingers in her and could feel the spasms in her vagina intensify as her orgasm continued. The head of my cock was lodged against the top of Gwen's throat but it didn't seem to affect her at all. When Gwen's orgasm peaked a muffled scream vibrated through my cock and balls and I erupted. A contraction accompanied each ejaculation. The sudden flood of liquid caused Gwen to gag and she backed off a bit but her mouth never left my cock. Instead the suction increased and I could feel her swallow each time my cock spit out another stream of semen.

Gwen's hips bucked and thrashed. Her hips rose up and her legs straightened, lifting my torso off the blanket. I was amazed at her strength. She only maintained the position for a few seconds before she collapsed back onto her knees. I never stopped alternating between fucking her with my tongue and licking her clit. My cock had stopped pumping cum when she released it from her mouth and bolted upright again.