The Best Erotic Stories.

Brandon's Adventures: The 60's
Chapter VI
by IndianAsian

I wasn't going to blab it all over the store what happened with Lydia and me at the picnic, but on Monday, I did tell Billy, my best friend working with me.

"Shit! I can't believe it, Brandon!"

"It's true."

"Oh, I believe you, man. I just meant... you know... Lydia Abrams? I'll admit, she looked very scrumptious at the picnic, and now that you mention it, she was paying a lot of attention to you. What about the guy she's dating?"

"Don't know. She barely mentioned him, and as I said, we really didn't talk too much about things after it happened."

"Are you serious about her, Brandon?"

"Well, I've been thinking about it, and... yeah... I mean... we did it, you know? So, I guess I AM serious about her. She's a nice girl."

"Who fucks."

I smiled. "Yeah, she's a nice girl who fucks."

"What about Tammy?"

"I guess I gotta tell her, Billy. No sense leading her on. She's really great and I really like her, so I don't want to cheat on her."

"Don't do it, man. Don't say anything! At least not until Lydia gets back and you see what's going on. You know, to make sure you both are in the same place."

"Why? You know her. You think she'd fuck me if she didn't like me?"

"No, she certainly doesn't seem like that type. She always impressed me as the type that didn't fuck before marriage, but I don't know. It's just weird, Brandon. For her to come on so strong after being the Ice Princess for so long. It's just weird. Something's not kosher."

"Is that supposed to be a pun or something?"

Billy looked at me and then laughed, "No, no... I didn't intend that, but that's something else to consider. Maybe her folks won't dig their daughter dating a Catholic boy. And I met your mom, Brandon, she's gonna shit grapefruits! Her little Catholic bambino!"

It was a lot to think about, and it was a long week, each minute dragging by. By Wednesday night I knew I couldn't hold off talking to Tammy any longer. I knew what I had to do. I liked her too much to lie to her.

I called her from the store and said I'd stop by after work. She was waiting out front when I pulled up.

"Hey, I missed you, mister!" She was all smiles as she got in the car and leaned over to kiss me and give my cock an affectionate squeeze.

This wasn't going to be easy.

In a few minutes we were parked in our favorite lovers' lane spot.

"We getting in the backseat or what? What's the matter, Brandon? Something's very wrong. What is it?"


She was close and staring into my eyes. I didn't want to hurt her.

"Brandon, tell me. What's wrong? Is it your parents?"

"No, Tammy, it's not home. It's something else."

"Tell me. You can tell me anything, Brandon."

"Tammy..." I knew I had to jump right in. It wasn't getting any easier. "Tammy, I'm seeing another girl. And it's gotten pretty serious." Whew, I got it out.

Tammy's face just sort of froze for thirty seconds or so. She didn't say a word. And then all of her features shattered as she broke into tears.

"Tammy... Tammy, I'm sorry." I tried to hug her to me but she pulled away and slid over against the door.

"Take me home, Brandon."

"Tammy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I-"

"Now! Take me home now, you bastard!"

I felt like shit.

My mood didn't improve. I felt like a real dick for what I did to Tammy. We had been dating for a while and I had become attached. I was really going to miss her (and in my less noble moments, I admitted I was really going to miss her superb blow- jobs!). I vacillated between missing Tammy and looking forward to Lydia's return.

Finally, Sunday came and I called Lydia's house to see if they were home from vacation. She answered the phone. She sounded cool and reserved after I said "hi!"

"Sorry, Brandon. I can't really talk now."

"Oh, I was hoping we could... You know... Maybe get together later." This wasn't what I had been expecting.

"I can't. Sorry."

"But, Lydia-"

"Brandon, I have to go."


"Brandon, Lawrence is here. I have to go."

That was a shocker. What the fuck was he doing there? "Well, when will I see you in work this week?"

"You won't, Brandon."

"What do you mean?"

"I called up during the week and asked for a transfer. I start at another store tomorrow."

"What? Why? What's goin' on, Lydia? I thought-"

"I'm sorry, Brandon. I'm sorry for what you're thinking, but that's not what's happening. I'm getting engaged to Lawrence."

It's a good thing I was sitting down. Everything was spinning too fast, like closing your eyes in bed with a good drunk on. "What... what about the picnic?"

"You're not making this easy, Brandon. Why did you have to be so sweet to me? I thought you'd be an asshole."

"I don't understand, Lydia."

"Brandon, I'm sorry. What I did was wrong. I screwed you because Lawrence screwed some dumb blonde. I had to show him how easy it would be for me. I was hurt and I wanted to get even. But we've worked things out and we're going to pick out a ring this week."

I didn't have anything to say, but I was gripping the phone hard enough to cramp my fingers.

"Brandon? I have to go. You're sweet, and it was nice working with you. Be happy for me! Goodbye, Brandon."

I didn't think I could feel any worse, but I was wrong.

Monday night, after the store closed, I was walking to my car when a Cadillac pulled between me and my car. A guy got out of the passenger side. The other doors were opening.

"You Brandon?"


"Yeah. Who are you?"

"I'm Lawrence Feldstein. Ring any bells, shit-face?"

I was in trouble and knew it. There was four of them and I had been careless. The biggest one moved behind me and wrapped my arms behind me.

Lawrence stepped up to me. "Putting the moves on Lydia was the wrong thing to do, goyim."

"Put the moves on? Is that what she told you? She chased me! We fucked our brains out and she wanted more!"

He buried his right fist in my stomach. It felt like he made it all the way back to my spine.

I doubled over and staggered back a step or two. The lug holding me let me take that step. I came down on his left foot with the heel of my left shoe and then stepped into my next move.

The goalpost was forty yards away and I wanted to put Lawrence's balls through the uprights. One step with my left and then my right came up with everything I had. Lawrence made a funny little "Ulf!" noise and then bent over at the waist. In the purple gas lights of the parking lot, his face looked like it was turning green. He opened his mouth and vomited on my pants and shoes. Three points!

I was still catching my breath when his friend behind me wrapped his arms around me and the two guys by the car started walking towards me. I was going to have the living shit beat out of me and there wasn't a thing I could do about it.

"Enough! I've called the cops!"

It was Dennis, the assistant manager of the store, with Billy and the two guys from the produce department.

The guy holding me let go and the other two guys helped Lawrence into the Caddie, and they pulled off the lot with a squeal of tires and a little puff of burnt rubber.

I tried to say "thanks" to my rescuers, but I had just enough time to stagger over to the curb, bend over and puke up my chili-dog-and-Tastykake dinner.

I couldn't have felt more sorry for myself than I did at that moment. I had hurt Tammy and broken up with her because of Lydia and Lydia had used me because of Lawrence and I had Lawrence's dinner on my shoes and pants and I could only breathe in short gasps as I spit out the last of my stomach contents. I hurt -- physically and emotionally. I was alone -- all alone. I was ready to cry.

Carefully, I straightened up and leaned against my car. >From a cooler in his car, Dennis had produced a cold six-pack and Billy handed me a can. The five of us popped the tops and I took a small drink of the cold beer.

Billy patted me on the shoulder. "I sure hope you were a good fuck for Lydia; it may have to last her for a while. I saw that kick you gave Lawrence -- I don't think he'll be getting a hard-on for a few days."

I started to laugh, but it hurt. But, then like magic, I didn't hurt as badly. I looked at my friends, raised my can in a toast and then broke out in the biggest laugh I'd had in weeks.


I was young, employed, and draft-deferred. And it was the Sixties, man!
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