Summer of '64

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A long time ago, not so far away.
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Ann Douglas
Ann Douglas
3,167 Followers

The small group of teenagers sat in the corner of the near empty offices of Ryan, Smith and Dodge. It was lunch hour and most of the workers had taken advantage of the warm Friday afternoon to take a walk on the streets of New York.

Jimmy Ross, the youngest of the four, fiddled with the dial of his new transistor radio, changing the news station they had been listening to get the baseball scores to one that played top 40 tunes. To their annoyance, instead of how the local teams had done, the radio commentator had been going on and on about some incident with two American warships in some place called the Gulf of Tonkin.

"Where the hell is the Gulf of Tonka?" Joe Wilson asked, just before Jimmy changed the station.

"That's the Gulf of Tonkin, dummy," Peter Butler corrected Joe. "It's a body of water between Vietnam and China. Tonka are the trucks you probably still play with."

"Well thank you Mr. Geography," Joe laughed back. "Leave it to you to know the name of every unimportant piss-ant little country in the world."

"Well if you paid any attention in Miss Murray's class, you'd have known it too," Peter, who had gone to school with Joe, added.

"Yeah, like that little piece of information is ever going to come up again in my lifetime," Joe retorted.

The friendly barbs faded as the sounds of "Pretty Woman" replaced that of the wooden announcer. The discussion moved onto more important subjects, at least those more important to eighteen-year-olds working summer jobs before going off to college in a month. They went from the Yankees' chances of making it to the World Series again to the new James Bond film, Goldfinger.

"Hey did you see this about the new program that's coming on CBS next month?" Steve Walton asked as he flipped through a TV magazine as he ate. "It's about a bunch of people who take a mini-cruise and get shipwrecked on a deserted island."

"Now that sounds like a stupid idea for a show," Peter said as he finished off his own soda. "What's it called?"

"Gillian's, no wait a sec... Gilligan's Island," Steve read.

"That sounds as stupid as the idea," Joe joined in as he leaned over and looked at the large picture of the show's cast that accompanied the article. "But I'll tell you what; I wouldn't mind getting stranded with those two," he grinned, pointing out the two younger women in the photograph.

"Yeah, like you'd know what to do with them once you were on the island," Peter interrupted.

"You'd better believe it," Joe shot back. "Trust me, a week alone with me on an island and I'd have both of them giving me blowjobs."

"More likely committing suicide," Peter corrected him. "As if you ever really got a blowjob in your life."

"Hey, all I can say to that is Donna Petrachinni, what more needs to be said."

Peter reserved comment on his friend's reply. Ever since the night of their senior prom, Joe had claimed to have gotten Donna Petrachinni to have gone down on him. The only guy in class to have the nerve to make a claim like that. Now Donna wasn't exactly the hardest girl in town to talk out of her bra, and sometimes even her panties, although it was only to let you rub her pussy with your hand. Getting her to take your cock in her mouth was something else all together.

Blowjobs or oral sex if you wanted to get technical, were the Holy Grail of sexual accomplishments among all the guys they knew. Few were those who had actually experienced one. Not even Peter's older brother, Mark, who had been married a year now, had ever gotten one. The subject had come up in a discussion between the two brothers and the elder admitted that his new bride wouldn't even discuss the idea.

"Hey, I'll tell you who I'd really like to be stranded on a deserted island with," Steve said, saving Peter the trouble of having to once again express skepticism over Joe's reoccurring claim.

Three sets of eyes turned in Steve's direction for the answer. The blond haired teen waited a long heartbeat and then answered, "Kathy Chakiris."

A chorus of "Oh Yeah" came from Joe and Jimmy in response to the answer. Peter, strangely enough, tried hard not to react to the suggestion. It wasn't that he didn't agree with his three co-workers' assessment. Far from it in fact. He was just afraid that if he replied at all, it would be so enthusiastically that it would be embarrassing.

The second youngest of the summer help, although that really didn't matter that much when you were only talking about months if not weeks difference, Peter Butler had been totally smitten by Kathy Chakiris since the day he'd been hired. In that regard, he was far from alone.

Kathy Chakiris was a tall, dark-haired woman of thirty who was the back office's chief clerk. A sort of assistant to the office manager, she had a lot of responsibility but little real authority. Of Greek background, Kathy was without doubt, the sexiest woman in the company. Aside from her deep olive skin and dark red lips, she had a striking figure that included a bust to rival Jane Mansfield's.

Divorced two years ago after an eight-year marriage, it had become a point of certainty among most of the men in the office that she was hot to trot. This was a belief that none of them had ever been able to back up with personal experience, but a strongly held conviction never the less.

Almost as if on cue, people began to return to the office at that moment, and in the forefront of the group was Kathy. Dressed in a form fitting dark blue dress that hugged her figure like a second skin, she was also wearing the dark sunglasses that she wore even inside the office. Peter couldn't recall ever seeing her without those glasses, an element that just added to her allure.

"Good afternoon boys," Kathy smiled and said as she walked past the small group.

None of them really answered, feeling her gaze even through her dark glasses. It was almost as if she knew what they'd been discussing. At least that was the way Peter felt. He was also sure he wasn't the only one of his friends who thought of Kathy when they were alone and took matters in hand.

It wasn't until two more groups passed that the four young men tossed the remnants of lunch into a pail and went back to their work spots. Peter happened to be assigned to Kathy's department this week and had only settled at his desk when Mr. Davis, the department manager walked into the center of the room and called for everyone's attention.

"I'm afraid that I have some bad news, Ladies and Gentlemen," the balding fifty-year-old announced. "I just got a call from a friend at the home office and it seems that we're going to find ourselves the recipients of a surprise audit come Monday morning."

A flurry of low groans greeted the announcement. People who had been there for any time knew what was coming next.

"Now while I'm sure that they'll find everything as it should be, small errors have been known to happen from time to time," Mr. Davis continued. "So as we've done in the past, I'd like you all to come in tomorrow morning and we'll run a practice audit. Just to make sure that everything balances."

A second round of groans, which Davis just seemed to ignore, followed the first. With only three more weekends left in the summer, each was precious. Mr. Davis assured them all that if they got in by seven, he was sure they could finish by noon and still have plenty of time to spend the day with their families.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Chakiris," Peter asked as he stepped up to her desk. "Does that include us, coming in tomorrow I mean?"

"I'm afraid so, Peter," she replied with a friendly smile. "Even though you really don't have anything to do with the audit, Mr. Davis likes everyone to come in as a show of support. I'm sorry."

"That's okay," Peter smiled back. "I don't really mind, I just wanted to be sure that I was supposed to come in, that's all."

"I wish everyone were so co-operative," the tall woman replied. "It's all I can do to get some people in here kicking and screaming."

"Well I guess I better get back to work," Peter said as he walked away.

He glanced back over his shoulder to see Kathy already once more engrossed in a report that had been sitting on her desk. When he got back to his own desk, Peter was immediately aware of two things. One, that he could still smell her perfume, and that two, he had a first class hard on because of it. Looking downward so no one could see him blush, the dark-haired young man hoped that the former would stay with him for some time, and that no one had noticed the latter.

Peter had to rise extra early Saturday morning to catch the train and get into the office by seven. He hoped that Mr. Davis had been right about their being out of there by noon. His father had won tickets at the local bar to the game between the Mets and the Colt 45's out at Shea that afternoon and had given them to his two sons. A Yankee fan to the core, Ben Butler had no interest in wasting his Saturday afternoon watching Casey Stengel's Amazing's make fools out of themselves once again. Not that the new Houston team was that much better.

Now if they had been Yankee tickets, he would've been more than happy to truck out to the Bronx and watch Yogi Berra's Bombers on their way to yet another World Series. The days of the great Titans of Yesteryear might have been fading, but an afternoon watching the likes of Mantle, Ford and Maris was still not to be missed.

"One of these days," Peter had told his Dad, the Mets are going to really be contenders. They might even be World Champions."

"Sure they will," his father had laughingly replied. "That'll happen right after they really walk on the Moon."

Not really one to speak ill of the dead, but Ben Butler had an even lower opinion of President Kennedy's promise to send men to the Moon before 1970 than he did of the National League's new team . Another colossal waste of time and money, he'd said at the time. Even if it was somehow possible, which he doubted.

Before he left home, Peter had left a message with his brother's wife that if he couldn't make the game, he'd call and let him know. It would be real easy for him to find someone to go in Peter's place.

The prospect of spending a whole Saturday in the office instead of just the morning proved to be the great incentive that Mr. Davis had said it would be. Never had Peter seen some of his fellow workers do their jobs with such animation. By eleven twenty-five, the practice audit was done and people were already making for the doors.

"Excuse me," Kathy said, loud enough for everyone still around her to clearly hear. "I could use a little help in putting all of these ledgers away."

Dozens of eyes looked at the scattered piles of heavy accounting ledgers that had been left scattered across a dozen desks. Normally kept in a large storage room down on the twenty-first floor, they had been moved upstairs for the audit.

With half the work force already gone, none of those left wanted to get stuck any longer than they had to.

One by one, they came up with some excuse as to why they couldn't stay. Without the authority of the office manager behind her, and he had been the first to leave, Kathy really couldn't force anyone to stay.

"Come on, Pete," Joe said as he started for the door. "If we can catch the train, we can be home in an hour."

Peter thought about it a few moments, then said. "You go ahead, I'm going to stay and help."

"Whatever the hell for," Joe said. "No one else is."

"Because it's the right thing to do," Peter answered. "If you want to go, you go ahead."

"Suit yourself," Joe said, shaking his head at his friend's attitude. "But just remember Pete," he said in a lower tone that only the other teen could hear. "It's not like she's going to be so full of deep appreciation that she's going to drop down to her knees to thank you."

"Sometimes, Joe," Peter said as he watched his friend walk away, "you really are an asshole."

By the time Peter walked back into the office, Kathy was the only one still there. She was loading a few of the ledgers into a shopping cart that they used to move them between floors. Picking up two of the books from a nearby desk, Peter dropped them into the cart.

"Oh Peter," Kathy said as she jumped slightly at the sound of the books landing on her own pile. "I didn't realize that anyone was still here."

"I thought I'd stay and lend a hand, Mrs. Chakiris," the younger man said.

"That's very nice of you," Kathy replied, her smile exhibiting a genuine warmth that he had never seen before. "But if you are going to stay, I'm going to insist on one condition."

"What's that?"

"You stop all this Mrs. Chakiris nonsense," Kathy laughed. "Like I've been telling you to do all summer. You make it sound like I'm old enough to be your mother."

"All right, ... Kathy." Peter smiled as he piled another few ledgers into the cart.

Even with the two of them, it took another hour and four elevator trips to the twenty-first floor to put away all the ledgers.

"I read an article the other day," Peter said as pushed the now empty cart down the equally empty hall. "that said that someday they'll be able to make computers that will keep all these records on a disk the size of a pack of cigarettes."

"Are you sure that wasn't one of those science fiction magazines," Kathy laughed. "Sounds like something out of the Outer Limits."

"No, it was Scientific American," Peter said, then realized that she was joking with him. "Oh, I get it."

The elevator door opened once more on their floor. As they stepped back into the office, Kathy checked her watch.

"Quarter after one," she said out loud. "I was afraid that I wouldn't get out of here until after three."

"Oh no," Peter exclaimed as he heard the time. "I forgot to call my brother about the Mets game."

He quickly dialed his brother's house on the closest desk phone. His sister in law told him that Mark had already left for the game. She also told him that when Peter hadn't called him one way or another, Mark had simply asked one of the neighbors if they wanted to go.

"You were supposed to be going to the baseball game?" Kathy asked Peter, not being able to ignore the telephone conversation.

"My Dad won a pair of tickets, he gave them to my brother and me," Peter explained.

"Now I feel guilty about having you stay and help," Kathy said.

"You don't have to feel that way," Peter replied. "I wanted to stay, I really did. More than I wanted to go see the game."

"I think you're lying," Kathy smiled. "but thank you for saying that. I really do appreciate your staying."

Peter wasn't sure what he was going to say next, but whatever it was, it flew right out of his head as Kathy leaned over and gave him a thank you kiss on his cheek. It was the sort of kiss you would get from a friend, but as unexpected as it was, he couldn't have been more surprised if she had kissed him on the lips and stuck her tongue down his throat.

"You really are a dear," she said with a smile after the kiss.

"I guess I'd better get going," Peter finally replied, still at a loss for words.

"Before you go, Peter," Kathy said as she sat on the edge of her desk and crossed her legs. The black slacks she wore seemed to accent, rather than hide her long legs, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure, anything," he quickly replied.

"Do you ever hear the men in the office talking about me?"

"I'm not sure what you mean?" came his reply.

"Oh I'm sure you do," Kathy said. "It's no secret to me that a good many of the men in this office look at me as some sort of easy lay, even though I've never so much as gone out with any of them for a drink after work."

Peter was shocked to hear the phrase "easy lay" come out of Kathy's mouth. It wasn't the sort of thing he'd ever heard any woman say.

"Well I try to ignore office gossip," he said.

"But you have heard it?" she asked again.

"Yes," he finally admitted.

"Do you think that it's true?"

"Well I guess it doesn't have to be true to be gossip," Peter said after a few moments consideration.

"Well just to set the record straight, I'm not an easy lay, despite what anyone says. Most men these days see a woman who is both attractive and divorced and automatically assume that if she shows the slightest interest in them, all she wants to do is go to bed with them. As if she was nothing better than some common streetwalker."

With his eyes fixed on the contours of her body, the first thing that came to Peter's mind was that there was nothing common about Kathy. Then his common sense took hold and he said nothing. Yet he wondered why she was telling him all of this.

"One of the reasons why I don't date anyone from the office," she went on, "is the fact that because of that view, any invitation I did accept would be taken as an invitation to something far more than dinner. Even if that expectation went unfulfilled, there are many of those who would assume that it had been realized."

Peter was now totally confused and still confused by the candor of her statements. It was almost like talking to one of the guys. After all, girls didn't talk about getting laid, did they? Finally the thought occurred to him that she was telling him all of this because somehow she had heard what he and the guys had been saying about her in their lunchtime bull sessions.

"I guess I'm sort of guilty too," he admitted with a deep blush as he explained how she had come up in their noontime discussions. He left out, however, the fact that she was a frequent visitor in his own masturbation fantasies. That would be too forthcoming.

Kathy laughed at his admission. It took him a few seconds to realize that she wasn't laughing at him, just his admission.

"Sweetheart, it doesn't bother me that you and your buddies talk about me," she laughed. "That's just part of being eighteen and perpetually horny. In fact, I'd be more offended if you weren't checking me out. Women have egos too you know. I wouldn't even be shocked to know that one or two of you might think of me late at night."

This was way too much, Peter thought to himself. He couldn't imagine any woman saying the things that Kathy had just said.

"I guess by now I have you totally confused, don't I?" Kathy finally said.

"Sort of ..." Peter answered.

"Well the reason I guess I told you all of that was because I want to make it up to you for missing the baseball game and spending your time helping me. I just wanted you to understand that what I was offering was exactly that, with nothing else attached."

"Okay," Peter replied, still not really understanding.

"I was going to the World's Fair out in Flushing Meadow tomorrow with my roommate," Kathy finally explained. "But she had to go home to New Jersey last night because her Mother is ill. Since the tickets to the Fair are already paid for and everything, I was wondering if you'd like to go with me? Just as friends."

Peter's eyes lit up. Despite living not all that far from the Fair, he had yet to go there. It was one of those things that you kept saying, next weekend. Without evening thinking about it, he was saying he'd love to go.

"That would be great," Kathy said on hearing his reply. Would you rather meet me at the entranceway, or do you want to come over my apartment and pick me up. I live up on Belle Boulevard.

"I guess it would be easier to meet at your apartment," Peter said, not having realized that Kathy also lived in Queens. "The way the crowds are at the Fair, we might never find each other."

"You're probably right," Kathy agreed as she wrote down her address on an index card for him. "We should get an early start, would eight be too early?"

Peter said that eight would be fine as he took the card from her. Kathy said that she had some errand to run in the city and that she would lock up everything in the office.

Ann Douglas
Ann Douglas
3,167 Followers