Chapter 16
Then
It was my last day at Delanies, and Michael called to see if I was coming this week to clean.
I thought of quitting already and staying on at the pizza shop.
I didn’t want to give him any indication I was jealous of him and April.
But I was, and it wasn’t just jealousy.
I had a wave of righteous anger. He gave me so many mixed feelings. I still wore the key on my wrist—I don’t know why. I guess because it was the only tangible thing I had of him. And I wore the T-shirt he bought me as much as possible—even slept in it.
His apartment was a little messy when I showed up, and all I could envision was him and April having crazy sex while hanging from the chandeliers—even though he didn’t have chandeliers.
Whenever I picked up a pillow or some article of clothing, I was afraid of finding a bra or panty that belonged to April.
I even thought about leaving a pair of my panties hidden down inside the couch, hoping April would see them and they’d have a big fight.
There was another note on the counter, and I was less than excited to read it.
Dear Jill….
Even starting his letters with Dear Jill sent mixed feelings.
If he felt nothing but a friend, why not just begin with Jill?
Dear Jill,
Sorry, the place is a mess.
I hoped to see you sooner, but I understand your commitment to Delanie’s.
Plus, I miss your cute face around the place.
Hopefully, I won’t be late, and we can do something together.
I say get a pizza, but you’re probably sick of pizza. If it’s not too chilly, maybe we can take a ride on the bike and get some Chinese. Just call me at work. My number’s at the bottom. Let me know what you’re up for. See you soon.
Love, Michael
And why did he have to sign Love, Michael to his notes? It drove me crazy.
Michael’s number for work was written on the bottom, but I wasn’t going to call.
Just clean and get the hell out before something with April popped up, crushing my world again.
And how dare he think I had nothing planned on a Friday night—like I had no friends or even a boyfriend.
And I didn’t have plans.
Tammy was babysitting, and I didn’t have a boyfriend.
But maybe I could make one up and make him jealous.
But would he say something to Scott, blowing my cover? I would think about it. But when would the subject come up? ‘Oh, by the way, Michael, I have a boyfriend.’ But then he would wonder why I took him to the dance. I decided not to ponder on it and finished cleaning his apartment.
I washed his dishes, swept his carpet, and made his unmade bed.
I didn’t want to lie on it because all I could see was him and April having sex all over it.
The phone beside his bed rang, and I almost picked it up.
The answering machine clicked on, and just like last time, Michael was calling me.
“Hey Jill, if you’re still there, please pick up.
It’s me, Michael.”
Yes, Michael, I know it’s you, I thought.
But I continued to look at the phone.
“I hope I find your cute little face when I get home.
I missed having you around.
Well, I hope I don’t miss you; that’s all. Bye.”
Why would he continue to talk after I didn’t pick up? Did he know I was listening and intentionally would not pick up? Did he know I was…hurt? It’s not like I would see his machine flashing and check his messages.
He knew he had hurt me.
I was mad, yet I didn’t want jealousy to be part of the issue.
I finished putting away his laundry and took out the trash, and when I was walking back inside, I heard his Corvette come into the parking lot.
Shit! I wanted to be gone by the time he was home.
Now he would know I purposely avoided his call.
“Hey, no wonder you missed my message.
I called, hoping you’d still be here.”
The garbage can was still in my hands, and it was a good cover.
“Oh, yes.
Must have just missed your call.”
I turned and headed back inside.
“Everything is done.
I also unloaded your dishwasher.
See you next week,”
I said, picking up my purse on the counter.
“Hey, wait a minute.
Would you like to hang out tonight or do something? Did you read my note?”
“Yes, I saw your note.
Goodbye, Michael.”
My hand was on the door when he spoke again.
“Jill, are you mad at me? Have I done something? Did…did the kiss scare you off?”
I froze.
There was so much I wanted to say, and now was my chance.
The words were rolling around in my head, but I couldn’t begin or form how to answer him.
“Jill, let’s talk.
What have I done?”
Walk out the door.
Walk out the door.
“No, nothing’s wrong.”
My voice was high, and my words were fast.
I started to open the door when he came up from behind and pushed it shut, holding the door so I couldn’t open it.
“Hey, let’s talk.
Something is wrong.”
“I don’t want to talk, Michael.”
Without any control, I began to cry, and I hoped he couldn’t tell.
But there was no hiding it from him.
He put his hand on my shoulder while still holding the door shut.
“Let me go.
I’m fine.”
He turned me around, and I covered my face, not wanting him to see me cry.
He tried to pry them away.
“Jill, are you mad at me for kissing you? I didn’t mean for it to scare you.
I won’t do it again, I promise.”
“That’s the point, Michael.
I don’t understand what the kiss meant.
No, it didn’t scare me.
That’s not why I’m mad at you.”
“So, you are mad at me.
And the kiss…I don’t understand it either.”
“Then why did you kiss me?”
Michael’s eyes locked with mine, both of us searching for answers the other couldn’t give.
“Because I wanted to.”
And it was the best answer he could have given me.
He could have said, ‘Because you asked me too.’ He could have said, ‘You looked like you wanted me to.’ But he said, ‘I wanted to.’
“You wanted to kiss me?”
“Yes,”
he whispered and wiped my tears.
“Did you want to kiss me?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you upset with me?”
“You confuse me, Michael.
The first time I came here, with the pizza, you danced with me, and then he took me on motorcycle rides, taking me to the dance.
The kiss.
The notes with Love, Michael.
Am I reading mixed signals? In one minute, I think maybe we will have something special, like I could have something with you. And next, you have me making dinner for you and April. I mean…what the hell? Is this some sick, cruel joke you and April are playing with me?”
“Oh, God no, Jill.”
He held my face and wiped my tears with his thumbs.
“Then what is it? Because I’m getting baffled.
Do I see things that aren’t there?”
“You’re right,”
he said, and I still didn’t know what he meant.
“You want to know how I feel about you?”
I nodded as he still held my face.
“I’m shamefully attracted to you.
I can’t help it, but I am.”
My eyes widened.
I wasn’t making things up in my head.
He was attracted to me.
“I try to keep it innocent, but when I’m around you, I can’t help it.
I keep thinking you’ll slap me or tell me to stop, but you don’t. And I’m not saying it’s your fault—it’s mine. I should know better because you’re only seventeen. I shouldn’t have hired you to be here alone. I know it was wrong, but I did it anyway.”
“Oh, Michael.”
I fell onto his chest, and he held me tightly.
His arms felt strong, but I felt his entire body shiver underneath.
I scared him.
“God, Jill…you’re beautiful.
You’re young; you’re my friend’s little sister.
It has all the hallmarks of a disaster.
And yet, that makes it even more enticing.
I know I should keep my distance. But I can’t.”
I should have run right at that moment.
I should have said he was right and needed to keep his distance.
I should have taken his words as a warning.
But I didn’t.
And everything he said only made me want him more. I would someday look back, wish to undo this moment, and run out that door. Because I didn’t know that one day, all he said would turn out to mean nothing anymore.
He kissed me—hard.
No one had ever kissed me like that before, and this is what passion must have felt like because my own body reacted without thought.
My hands went in his hair and down his neck.
The crisp collar of his dress shirt only heightened my desire for him.
I saw him as ambitious, successful, accomplished, and reckless. Wasn’t that what stirred desire? Judging all the romance books I had read, I was now in my own romance book. And didn’t they all have a happy ever after? It was the most pivotal time of my young life. I only saw one thing—Michael and me forever. What could ever change this feeling we had right at this moment? It was too strong. Too desirable, too wanted. Too wrong, and I didn’t care.
He picked me up, and my legs wrapped around his waist.
I felt his hands squeeze into my bottom, and the ache inside me was a pleasure, desire, curiosity.
I was on a new adventure, and Michael was my guide.
He walked us to his bedroom, and I didn’t care if he and April had sex on his bed.
I should have, but I didn’t.
He laid me down and remained on top of me.
His body was heavy, and I loved every ounce I felt on me.
He moved his hips, and I felt his stiff erection. That took my breath away because it was scary and excitable, as he was hard because of me.
The kissing was out of control, and I was dizzy.
I was out of breath yet in bliss.
He reached up my shirt, moving his hands under my bra.
My breasts weren’t big, maybe a large B, but he made them feel heavy and swollen.
He stood, and I was afraid he was going to stop.
Part of me wanted him to, and part wanted him to go on.
He began loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.
I considered stopping this during the process, but when I saw his bare skin, I couldn’t.
My young and curious instincts went to his chest, and I touched it and kissed it. I loved his scent—his Michael scent.
He pulled off my shirt and took off my bra.
I was exposed from the waist up and not in the slightest shy about it.
He made me feel sexy, beautiful—older.
Once his shirt was off, he climbed back over me, and we began moving our hips, pushing into one another’s groins.
It was different than when I masturbated. So much different. I was so hot and wet down there. I didn’t know if we would go farther or continue with the heavy petting and rubbing. But then he began to speak, and his voice sounded like a challenge to get out. “Should we stop? Want me to stop?”
Without thinking, I said, “No.”
With my response, he moaned and kissed me harder.
I felt him reach and open the nightstand drawer; his hand fumbled inside, searching.
He did this all while still kissing me passionately.
He broke our embrace just for a second to look down inside the box he pulled from the drawer—condoms. “Shit,”
he hissed.
The box was empty, and he threw it back inside.
He looked at me, torn.
“I’ll go to Planned Parenthood,”
I said.
With that, the passion took on a whole new level, and this was going to happen.
He stood and removed his pants, along with his briefs.
His penis was much bigger than I imagined—or any penis for that.
I had never seen one in real life. I knew they grew with arousal; I didn’t know how much.
My eyes widened, and he became concerned.
“Jill…is this your first time?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck,”
he said.
Not in anger, with arousal.
I was as much a fantasy to him as he was to me.
He reached for my jeans, and I helped with the removal.
My panties came off inside the jeans. I hoped they weren’t my period-stained ones. I always used the same ones during that time of the month. But somehow, Aunt Flow would show up uninvited when I was wearing new panties.
He climbed back on me, and his penis was hot to the touch.
He was out of control—I was out of control.
If this was my first time, somebody needed to take the lead.
“Michael…I’m scared.
Will it hurt?”
“Yes, just for a bit.
You want to stop?”
Part of me wanted to.
But I feared he would never want to see me again.
“No, but will you go easy?”
“Of course, Baby.”
I was his baby now.
No longer the kid.
I loved the sound of it.
I felt his penis push against my opening, and I tensed.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’ll take it slow.”
Would he push in all the way? I didn’t know how this worked.
Would it go in? Would it fit?
He moved side to side, his penis entering me a little at a time.
I felt the stretch inside me.
He pushed in a little farther and looked at me.
“This, okay?”
“Yes.
It burns a little.”
He kissed me tenderly this time and circled his penis inside me without going deeper.
Was it all the way in? I felt I didn’t know my vagina at the time and that he would know it better.
He was in control, and I felt better about what we were about to do.
He inched in a little more each time through the kissing and touching.
He was gentle.
I trusted him.
Eventually, he began to move faster, and his breathing became rapid.
I felt like I was splitting inside. It hurt. It felt good. I was a jumble of nerves and emotions. My heart was bursting, and my vagina was beginning to feel something I’d never felt. I was having an orgasm from way up inside. From this place, I never felt an orgasm when doing it myself. It was intense and unique. Even through the pain, I felt euphoria beyond what I thought possible. This feeling I was experiencing was what a real orgasm feels like. Had I been having fake orgasms with fake sex? There was a difference. Or was it because it was Michael? Was it different for him—being with me?
He began pushing harder and faster, and we both started to scream for some reason.
Then I felt his penis throbbing, pulsating inside me.
His body went limp, and all his weight lay over me.
He was out of breath.
I was out of breath and struggled to breathe with his weight on me.
Finally, he rolled off me, and I took a deep breath.
It was real.
It had happened.
He covered his face and said, “Ah shit.
What the hell did I just do?”
Was he already regretting it? Why? He turned his head and looked sincerely at me.
“I’m sorry, Jill.
Are you okay?”
Why was he calling me Jill? I thought I was now his…baby.
“Yes.
Are you mad at me, Michael?”
His hand moved to my face and smoothed my hair away.
He smiled, and his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“No.
I’m mad at myself.
That never should have happened.”
It hurt when he said that.
I didn’t want him to have regrets.
Bad regrets about me.
“Why? I wanted it to happen.
And…I wanted it to happen with you. I thought about making love to you for a long time.”
However, I’d only known him for weeks.
“Really?”
He traced my face with his finger.
I could smell his cologne. “Why?”
“Why? Because.”
This was it.
I was going to confess my love to him.
“Because I love you, Michael.”
“Oh, Jill.
Don’t say that.
You’ll go to college, meet many new people, and forget all about this old guy.”
He gave a small laugh.
“No, I won’t.
It will always be you, Michael.”
It hurt that he couldn’t see us together forever at that moment.
I couldn’t see anything else.
“I’ll remind you of that when I see your beautiful face and gorgeous body flaunting me when I’m an old man, begging to have all your attention because all the young guys now hold your interest.”
I rolled over with my head in my hand.
I considered his eyes and saw them more beautiful than I remembered.
“That will never happen.”
He pulled me onto him and hugged me tightly, and my head rested on his chest.
“Oh, Jill.
You don’t know how much you turn me on.”
And at seventeen, I thought that was love.