The Blonde Ch. 01

Thinking carefully about it, I waited a full two weeks before I talked to her about another concert. I wanted her to see that I had no expectations, and that I could be totally discreet. I never breathed a word to anyone in our lunch group, or indeed anybody at Minestra, that Tommie and I had gone to a concert.

I wondered if she might bring it up the next day--you know, just to say, "that was fun, Jack" or something--but she also behaved with the lunch group as though it had never happened.

So after two weeks, I wandered down to her desk and said, "Tommie, I really enjoyed the Symphony concert--would you be interested in doing it again?"

And when she smiled and said she would, I pulled out the Symphony calendar I'd printed out and said, "well it just so happens that I have their schedule right here..."

Tommie laughed, and then I pulled up a chair and we looked at it and decided on the following week, when they were playing Prokofiev and a Beethoven symphony.

Our second visit to the orchestra was a lot like the first one: Tommie told me about the composers and the music, we both really enjoyed the concert, and we chatted away comfortably and easily. I learned a little more about her big sister Alice, who'd married a Canadian guy and lived in Toronto, and I told her some funny stories about working my way through college as a lifeguard at a YMCA pool, and some of the crazy things that went on there.

And during intermission something else interesting happened. I left Tommie for a couple of minutes to stand in line to get us a couple of cokes; and when I had them in my hands I looked back across the crowded lobby and there was an extremely handsome guy chatting away with her.

Since she and I were not officially "dating" or anything, I realized that I had to play it cool. I watched the two of them as I negotiated my way through the crowd--he was being as charming as fuck, but I couldn't tell how Tommie was reacting to him.

When I finally reached them I handed Tommie her soda and said to the guy in a pleasant voice, "hi, I'm Jack."

"Uh, hello, I'm Rene," he said, clearly not the least bit happy to have me join the conversation. There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment, and then Rene picked back up on some story he had been telling Tommie, presumably to impress her with how marvelous he was.

But now that he could see Tommie was with somebody his heart wasn't really in it, and after a couple more minutes he nodded to me, told Tommie in a really sincere voice how much he'd enjoyed meeting her, and moved away.

I wasn't going to say a word about it, but Tommie just rolled her eyes at me and said, "somebody seems awfully impressed by himself!"

I laughed out loud and said, "and interested in you, I'd say--he certainly wasn't pleased to see me turn up."

She just sighed, looking a little unhappy, and said, "you know, sometimes I just get so TIRED of guys trying to pick me up all the time. It's flattering, I guess, but it gets really old after a while."

I had a quick decision to make. My first instinct would have been to say, "well, I'm not surprised that guys try to pick you up, Tommie--you're gorgeous!" But I really didn't want to be flirtatious. I wanted to be sincere and warm and kind--and above all non-threatening.

So I went for funny instead. "That's strange," I said, trying to look thoughtful. "Guys don't really hit on me much at all! I guess a few times at the gym...."

I let my voice trail off, looking puzzled, and Tommie cracked up. She laughed so hard she nearly spilled her soda, and I laughed with her. It was a nice moment.

At the end of the night I left her at her apartment, and like the first time she gave me a kiss on the cheek. I don't know if I'd ever ended a second date without a real kiss before--maybe when I was 15 or something. But things were going my way, and I wasn't going to push it or rush Tommie at all.

And I knew three days later that I'd done the right thing. Tommie called me during the morning and asked me to stop by her desk before we all met for lunch. When I got there she had the Symphony schedule out.

"How would you feel about 'The Rite of Spring' this time?" she asked me right away.

"That's Stravinsky, right?"

"Good for you!" she replied. "And there's a Bartok piano concerto that's kind of dissonant, but really exciting."

We agreed on the date and I said, "I'll order the tickets right after lunch."

"And listen, Jack?" Tommie suddenly looked a bit unsure. "You've been paying for all the tickets--"

"Well," I laughed, "my aunt paid for the first set!"

"Okay, but you've bought them since then. So I thought ... well, how about if I made us dinner this time?"

"Sure," I said. "That would be great! I eat anything: filet mignon, caviar, fresh lobster..."

She laughed and smacked me on the arm. "I was thinking pork and beans out of a can."

"Fine with me--will you have the sauerkraut or should I bring some?"

****************

When I arrived at Tommie's apartment I could see she was a little nervous, which made me feel good in a way. I figured that if she saw me as nothing more than a casual friend and concert-buddy, she wouldn't be nervous having me in her place.

I'd thought about bringing flowers but decided on a big gooey chocolate cake instead, as flowers suggested a guy courting a girl and I was trying not to give that impression. She opened the box and said, "wow! This looks delicious--and fattening. An extra hour at the gym this weekend for sure, but worth it. Thank you, Jack."

She'd made us chicken cacciatore over linguine and a beautiful Greek salad. It was very good, and obvious that she'd put a lot of effort into it. Another good sign!

As soon as we sat down I started asking her questions about Bartok and Stravinsky, and that seemed to relax her. We chattered away and ate and laughed--and before we knew it we were in danger of missing the concert.

"Oh darn!" Tommie said, glancing up at the clock. "We'd better dash. I'm sorry, Jack--we never even got to that cake. How about if we come back and have dessert afterwards?"

Fantastic, I thought to myself. "Sure, Tommie. Just grab your coat." I cleared the dishes, leaving them by the sink in her kitchen, and we headed out the door.

Stravinsky's "Rite of Spring" was not my cup of tea, exactly. Imagine 100 musicians on stage, all angry at each other, all playing as if determined to piss each other off--now imagine that going on for just over a half hour. I won't mind if I don't have to listen to that again any time soon.

But the Bartok piano concerto was cool, and being with Tommie--which for me was the main point, of course--was just terrific. She seemed more relaxed and comfortable with me than ever, laughing and joking, occasionally putting a hand on my arm.

At intermission when I went for sodas again, I watched her. In the first two minutes at least three guys went over to talk to her, but she shooed them all away. And then to my surprise she came and joined me on the line, and we talked about the music while we waited.

On the walk back to her apartment after the concert Tommie's cheerful mood seemed to change. She grew quiet and a little withdrawn, and I had an idea what was bothering her.

When we were half a block away I said, "listen, Tommie, it's getting kind of late. Shall we skip the dessert for tonight, and maybe do it another time?"

She stopped walking and looked up at me seriously. "No, Jack, I--it's..."

Taking my hand in hers she said, "I'd like you to come up. But we--I'm not--

"Jack, I'm not going to bed with you."

Again my instincts fought a quick battle with my better judgment. I wanted to pretend to scowl at her and say, "go to bed with me? What sort of guy do you think I am? Do you only like me for my body?"

But I controlled myself. Instead I just smiled and said, "that's fine, Tommie."

Then I waited a beat and added, "I would just be really disappointed to go home without a piece of that cake."

That made her laugh, thank goodness, and the awkwardness passed. When we got inside I immediately headed for the sink and started washing the dishes. Tommie looked at me in shock, then grinned and said, "well, you certainly are full of surprises!"

While I finished the dishes she put the left-overs away, made some coffee, and cut us some of the cake, and then we sat together at the table and ate it. We talked some more about Bartok and Stravinsky, and then about some of our more colorful co-workers.

But then the conversation trailed off and Tommie looked uncertain again. Determined not to push things, I stood up and said, "thank you again for dinner, Tommie. It was terrific, and the whole evening was fun."

I went around the table and gently lifted her to her feet. Looking into her eyes I said, "I'd like to cook for you next time--would that be all right?"

And I moved towards the door, pleased that she'd taken my hand and was moving with me. "Yes, Jack--and you know, I like filet mignon and lobster too!"

The smile on her face told me that a goodnight kiss would be welcomed, so I took her in my arms and gave her a good one. But gently, nothing forceful or scary, no tongue--just affectionate.

When I let her go she smiled at me and said, "good night Jack," and kissed me back, and squeezed my hand once more before letting me go.

As I walked back to my apartment I was smiling broadly to myself. On the one hand, this was the slowest courtship I could possibly imagine, especially for two adults. It was like being back in high school. In the Midwest. In the 50s!

But on the other hand, I was having a great time. Tommie was beautiful and intelligent and had a great sense of humor. And she was sexy as hell, and seemed to be interested in me, if a little wary. What was not to smile about?

****************

Our next date was just a Friday night dinner, at my place. There wasn't anything at the Symphony that Tommie wanted to hear, and I guess she was beginning to feel comfortable that we were actually dating--we didn't need to pretend it was just her teaching me about music.

I'm actually a pretty good cook; I did more than half of the cooking when Amy and I were married. So I prepared some marinated grilled lamb chops and a risotto and an avocado salad, as well as a sort of joke.

When Tommie arrived I showed her around the place--it was just a two-bedroom condo, but very comfortable, and I kept it nice and clean. And then she came and sat at the kitchen table while I finished stirring the risotto and dressing the salad, and we carried the food out to the table in my little dining room.

"This looks very nice, Jack," she said. "I'm impressed!"

"Oh, I almost forgot--sit down and close your eyes a minute. I remembered what you said."

She looked at me quizzically but I just waited, so she smiled and closed her eyes obediently. I reached into my pocket for two little slips of paper and put them on her plate.

"Okay, open up."

She looked at her plate, puzzled for a moment, and then burst into a big belly-laugh.

There in front of her were two small photos clipped from a cooking magazine: pictures of a gorgeous filet mignon and a pair of cooked lobsters.

She caught her breath and said, "well, that looks delicious," still giggling, and I said, "you know what they pay us at Minestra doesn't buy a lot of filet and lobster.

"But while I'm on the subject, when's your birthday?"

"June 28th," she said, and I said, "okay, for your birthday I'm taking you out for surf and turf. Deal?"

"Deal," she said. And she stood up and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips.

"I like your surprises, Jack," she said. And then we sat down and had our dinner, talking and joking and having a wonderful time. I was beginning to feel more confident that something might really be happening here, with this amazingly sexy and fun woman, and it made me very happy.

After dessert, which was an apple pie Tommie brought, we stood side-by-side washing and drying the dishes, gently bumping each other every once in a while. She said yes to another cup of coffee, so I poured us each a cup and took them into the living room.

We sat close together on the sofa, talking, and when we grew quiet I looked at her. She was looking back at me, smiling slightly, and I leaned over to kiss her--ready to retreat at any moment if she seemed reluctant. But she wasn't, and we gently kissed and necked and held each other for a delicious half-hour.

Holding her made me desire her more than I ever had--she would have seen my hard-on clearly if she'd glanced down--but I was so worried about scaring her that I took it really, really slow.

Still, it finally seemed like the right time, so I gently slid my hand down her arm to caress one of her breasts through her blouse. At first she seemed to like it--she made a little "mmm" sound and kissed me harder--but then after a minute she pulled back, a worried look on her face.

I waited, and tears started to well up in her eyes. "Jack, I'm sorry, I--"

"Shh," I said, pulling her back to me, her head on my shoulder. "It's okay. I like just being here, holding you. In fact I love it."

She relaxed after a minute, and then I started to rub her scalp. I learned this from my dad, actually, when I was a kid. There's almost nothing that feels better than a gentle scalp massage, someone using his fingers to rub your head through your hair. I used to love it when he did it, especially on nights when I was keyed-up and couldn't sleep.

And I'd learned over the years that women loved it too. I wouldn't say that I used it as a seduction technique, exactly, but I did find that it was a non-threatening, non-sexual but very intimate way of touching a woman. It never hurt, let's put it that way!

I rubbed Tommie's scalp for a few minutes with one hand, feeling her relax against me. And then I shifted her so she was lying down with her head on my thigh and I could use both hands, moving from the top of her head to the back, and then to the sides, above and around her ears, while she made little happy sounds in her throat.

I kept it up for a long time, and when I slowed and stopped she was virtually asleep, lying peacefully against me with her head on my leg. Did I still want to screw her? Oh my God yes--but at that moment I was extremely happy.

We stayed there, not moving, for a long while, why I idly stroked her hair. Around 10:45 I said quietly, "Tommie? It's getting a little late."

And she sat up, looking vague, and said, "wow, I think I fell asleep."

She stretched, and patted her hair into place, and looked at me very seriously. "Jack, that was--

"That was the nicest thing any man has ever done for me. C'mere." And she reached for me and pulled me into her arms, kissing me hard, her tongue searching for mine.

Within a couple of minutes we were necking again, frantically this time, and I had an iron bar in my pants. She stood up and pulled me to my feet and we continued to kiss, pressed tightly against one another, until she said, "uh, when you showed me around the place, Jack?"

"Yes?" I had no idea what she was getting at; and then she smiled and said, "I didn't really get much of a look at your bedroom--think I could see it again?"

****************

What can I tell you about Tommie's first night in my bed? On the one hand, it was pretty much like what most first nights are like, I guess. And on the other hand it was unbelievably wonderful.

We didn't do anything out of the ordinary; we took off each other's clothes, we lay on the bed touching and kissing and caressing, and we had sex. I wouldn't even say it was particularly wild sex. But I had been desiring Tommie for so long that I was absolutely desperate to have her. When I'd stroked her pussy and sucked on her breasts and she was breathing hard and she pulled me up on top of her, the feeling of her heat as I pushed into her the first time was like a miracle. We'd stopped for a minute for a condom, which can sometimes really break the mood, but this time it was fine.

I was hard as steel and I groaned with joy, and she smiled and kissed me, and then we just did it. We stroked and rocked and pushed and pulled at each other and it was nothing but sensations and heat and feeling. And I came, like crazy, not that soon but far sooner than I wanted to, and it felt like the greatest orgasm of my life.

And when it was over and I was lying next to her, catching my breath, looking joyfully at her relaxed, smiling face, I wanted to say, "you have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that!"

But again, that didn't seem like the right thing to say. So I said, "Tommie, you are so beautiful. I'm so glad you're here with me!"

And she smiled and kissed my shoulder and snuggled up closer against me.

Tommie stayed over that night and we did it once more, sometime in the middle of the night. That one was kind of sleepy, not fast and furious, but it was just as terrific as the first time, and we just kissed and kissed before falling back to sleep.

The next morning I was bringing cups of coffee back into the bedroom, wearing only a pair of boxers, when Tommie opened one eye and smiled at me.

"Oh my God, does that look good," she said, and I replied, "me or the coffee?"

"Both, actually--but I meant the coffee," she said. We drank our cups sitting companionably side by side against the headboard. I said, "what have you got going on today--feel like putting together a picnic and going out to Brookside Park?"

Tommie got a funny look on her face, one I couldn't read, and she said, "can I take a shower, Jack? Then we can talk."

I got her a towel and gave her my bathrobe and took her breakfast order; and when she came out, looking and smelling wonderful, there were fried eggs and English muffins and orange juice and more coffee. I hoped she'd ask me to marry her on the spot, but she didn't--just smiled a little and said, "wow, that looks nice."

"Go ahead and start, I'll just be a second." I took a three-minute shower and jumped into some shorts and a tee-shirt and hurried back into the kitchen.

"So," I said, as we were eating, "how about that picnic? Or do you want to do something else? Rent some bikes and ride around, or go to a movie?"

The funny look returned, and Tommie said, "I'm ... not sure I'm ready for that, Jack. Spending another day together, I mean."

I'm sure I looked baffled. She sighed and said, "it's kind of a long story--not one I'm ready to tell right now, if that's okay. Let's just say that ... that I'm a little gun-shy. I've been burned by moving too fast, or by guys who weren't what they appeared to be, and--"

She stopped, as though she didn't know how to finish the sentence. I smiled at her.

"It's all right, Tommie. I'd much rather we go slow and get it right. But you have to listen to me for a minute, okay?"

She could tell that I was serious, and she looked into my face.

"Yes Jack, of course--what?"

"This was no one-night stand, at least not for me, and I wasn't just angling to get you into bed. I really like you, I really like spending time with you, and I'm hoping to do a lot more of it. Got it?" I said the last two words with a mock-serious scowl, and she gave me a beautiful smile.

"Yes, sir!" she replied, giving me a military salute. "And Jack--it's not that I thought any of that about you. It's ... well, I could say that I don't really trust my instincts too much any more."

"As long as you don't give up on me," I said. "I can go as slow as you need."

She came around the table, sat down on my lap and put an arm around me. "Thank you, Jack," she said, and we kissed.

****************

I can't say I was completely happy about her putting me off. In fact I was a little bit frustrated. Knowing about Tommie's past, thanks to what I'd heard in the diner, I understood what she was feeling. Still, I'd really hoped that our wonderful night together would have broken down her barriers faster.