Back when I was a Freshman at State College, I was what they used to jokingly call a "Suitcase College Student." I lived in the dorm during the week but I packed up my clothes in an old suitcase and made the trip back home almost every weekend. A lot of my friends used to laugh and call me "Suitcase Steve" but I didn't care. All they ever did was sit around the dorms and drink cheap beer. I didn't have anything against drinking but I always thought there should be more to life. Besides, while they were all back at school, drinking away their money, I was making money.
My parents made me get a part time job as soon as I was old enough to get my working papers. By the time I was 17, I earned enough money flipping burgers to buy my own car. Barely a year later, I started my own landscaping business, doing yard work for all my neighbors in the summer and clearing snow out of driveways during the winter. Most of my college friends were broke all the time but I never had to beg my parents for money and I could almost always buy whatever I wanted.
It wasn't until half way through my sophomore year that I began to feel like I was missing something. All my friends had social lives and most of them had girlfriends. I dated a few girls but I never had time to have a steady girlfriend. I tried to rationalize my lack of a social life by telling myself that there'd be time for socializing after I graduated from college but I still had a hollow feeling inside, no matter how much I tried to deny it.
I remember the winter of '78. That was the year of the big blizzard. Nearly two feet of snow fell in one snowstorm. The whole area was snowed in for two weeks. I made a hell of a lot of money, clearing snow that year but that's not the thing I remember most.
I had been working hard for nearly three solid days when I got around to clearing Mrs. Marcus' driveway. Most of the main thoroughfares were open but a lot of the side streets hadn't even been plowed. Her house was at the end of the street. There was no way she was going to get her car through that mess but she insisted that I do her driveway just the same. She had always been one of my best and most loyal customers so I felt obliged to do the job, even if I thought it was useless.
I pushed my slow blower through the drifted snow, down to her end of the street and began work. I was only able to get half way done before I ran out of gas. I tried to explain to Mrs. Marcus that I couldn't get gas until the next day but she wouldn't hear of it. Even after all these years, I can still remember her voice, practically begging me to finish the job. She promised to pay extra if I would shovel the rest of the snow out of her driveway. I felt like a chump, letting her talk me into it but there was just something about her that convinced me do it.
Mrs. Marcus was an older woman but she wasn't as old as my Mom. She had long dark hair and she was tall and slender but I never knew what the rest of her looked like because I never saw her when she wasn't wearing a long fur coat. Not even in the summer. Most of our neighbors thought she was weird. They claimed that was the reason why her husband left her. I was too young to understand such things in those days. I always laughed and called her "The Fur Lady" when I was a little kid. When I grew up and started to get interested in women, I still thought of her as the "The Fur Lady" but I rarely ever laughed any more.
It was February 1st. I'll always remember that day. I'll never forget the image of the long silver fox coat Mrs. Marcus was wearing that day. It's one of my most prized memories, even to this day.
I had been shoveling that damned driveway for hours. I was feeling pretty tired from hard work when I started the job but, by the time I finished, I was so tired I thought I was going to fall over from exhaustion. Mrs. Marcus would come to the door and look out every so often to check my progress. She seemed to be very interested in me for some reason. I would pause and look up at her. She'd smile and wave then she would turn around and walk back inside. I couldn't help but think about her in that long fur coat. I thought she looked beautiful. It was probably that feeling which kept me going through the whole ordeal.
I was almost done when she came to the door for the third time. "Just finish up the little walkway to the front door, here, and come on inside." she said. "You look like you could use some warming up!" I just nodded and said, "Okay." It never crossed my mind that Mrs. Marcus was setting me up.
I set my shovel down against the wall by the garage door and trudged my way up the sidewalk to the door. I rang the bell but there was no answer. I tried the handle and the door was unlocked. I went inside and called out.
"Just take your coat and your boots off!" came the reply. "Leave them by the door." called the voice.
I followed the sound through the darkened house, into the kitchen. She was there at the dining table, still wearing that fur coat, sipping from a cup of hot coffee.
"Have some coffee before you go home." she offered. "Don't be afraid to put a little whisky in it. There's a bottle on the counter."
"But, Mrs. Marcus. I'm not 21 yet."
"Oh, come on!" she scolded. "Don't tell me you've never had a hot toddy on a cold day like this!"
"Sure!" I stammered back. "But..."
She stood up and strolled across the kitchen. She stood beside me with a look that could melt a snowman and poured a healthy double shot into my cup. I could see that the front of her coat was unfastened. Her bare leg was peeking out the front. I couldn't take my eyes off her as she picked up the cup and put it in my hand.
"My name is Jane." she said. "I haven't been known as 'Mrs. Marcus' for years."
I raised the cup and took a long, hot drink. "Thank you." I replied. The taste of liquor was so strong I could barely taste the coffee but it was just what I needed to warm my bones.
We chatted for a while and she paid me the money she owed, plus extra. A hundred bucks for just one job was a hell of a lot of money back in those days! It wasn't long until I started to feel the effect of the booze in my system but it was what she said next that really threw me up for a loop.
"So... Stephen... You wouldn't, by any chance, still be a virgin. Would you?"
"No!" I sputtered out, almost choking on my coffee.
"That's too bad!" she frowned. "I only fuck virgins."
"Well! No! I'm a virgin!"
"You're not lying to me. Are you?"
"No, Mrs. Marcus... I mean Jane... I'm a virgin!"
She made a disgusted expression as she grabbed me by the chin and looked me right in the eye.
"Which is it?" she asked again, almost growling. I had a hard time looking at anything but the long, silky fox fur on the sleeve or her coat, just inches away from my face.
Finally, I regained my composure long enough to say in a low voice, "I meant, 'No, Ma'am. I've never been with a woman before.'"
"That's more like it!" she said as she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close. She gave me a long, passionate kiss right on the lips.
I had never been this close to a woman in a fur coat before. My Mom had a fur coat but she kept it in the back of her wardrobe closet most of the time. She only wore it out on special occasions. I played with it once or twice when she wasn't around but I've always had an overwhelming fear of what she'd say if she ever found out. I always had to be very careful not to mess up my Mom's good coat. Now, here was Jane, a sexy, older woman with her furry arms around me! My head was spinning so fast I didn't know whether I was high from the alcohol or the fur. At that point, it didn't matter. All I knew was, whatever the reason, I felt good!
"Eww!" she winced as she pushed me away. "You're all wet and soggy!"
She stood back and looked me up and down. I was mortally afraid she'd see my hard on bulging the front of my pants but she didn't seem to notice.
"I can't send you home like this! You'll catch your death of cold!"
She took me by the arm and led me toward the stairs. She gave me a push upstairs and commanded, "We've got to get you thawed out!", as she marched me up to the bathroom.
"Get your clothes off and take a hot shower!" she barked out as she closed the door behind me.
I hardly had time to protest before she called out, through the closed door, "There's fresh towels on the rack and there's a new bar of soap in the soap dish."
It took me several minutes to get my bearings in my strange surroundings but I finally realized she was right. I was chilled to the bone and my clothes were damp. I needed a good, hot shower. Still, I always feel weird when I take my clothes off in a strange house. I always feel so... Naked!
It was quite a long time before I finished showering. The hot water was invigorating. The air was heavy with steam as I stepped out of the shower and found a towel. I dried off and blotted the water out of my hair. I looked around for my clothes.
"I swear I put them right there!" I thought to myself.
