Woodstock 1975

She said, "Stand up. I'll get a better angle on you that way." Now I knew what she was going to do. When I got on my feet the effects of sun, water, sex and pot made me feel woozy. But I wasn't so far gone that a naked girl kneeling before me couldn't get my stamina flowing again.

She showed her expertise here, gently licking and sucking on my cock. Her left hand gripped my ass to guide my movements as my hands went through her curly hair. Once I saw Mel briefly in my peripheral vision, but he snapped a few pics and then was gone.

I said, "Your mouth is as sweet as your pussy." A superfluous statement but true anyway. The buildup was slower but more intense this time. As I got closer one of my hands went down to rub myself as I slid between her lips. When I came she pulled back and I got the first shot into her mouth; then the rest splashed on her hair but she obviously didn't mind.

Afterwards we collapsed back down on the towels. We stayed on the ground holding and kissing each other. Our lovemaking hadn't gone as far as potentially possible, but that Act III would probably be the last one today. But I made up for a lot of lost time in less than two hours so I wasn't going to complain.

I Hope I Get Old Before I Die

Then I was asleep. I was aware of coming into a pre-awakening state once but I repositioned myself and dozed off again. When I did become fully awake I saw Denise looking at me. "Hi, Denise." "Hey Paul." We hugged, not saying anything for a few minutes. I was aware that the stereo was still playing and this time I could identify the echoing music. It was The Who, and the song, "My Generation," was indeed one from Woodstock. I had seen the film documentary earlier that year in New York and the audiences of both 1969 and 1975 had been wildly enthusiastic about the band's appearance on the stage.

We both scanned the sky, and I knew we were trying to see the angle of the sun to get a clue to how much time had passed. Denise said, "It doesn't look like it's that late." I could have stayed on those towels with her for another hour but she said, "Let's go see what's happening. And I'm thirsty too."

As we emerged from the grove I was aware that I was getting used to being naked. Maybe that is how people could handle nudist camps. We passed Mel, who said, "Here they come, Adam and Eve." Denise responded, "Oh Mel, can't you think of something more original?"

The business part of the day was obviously over. People were sitting around having sodas or wading or swimming in the lake for recreation. We went over to the tent and picked out our beverages from the ice chest. Sandra was sitting there busy making notes and Martin was on another chair, looking relaxed but a bit bored as smoked a cigarette and gazed at the water. I thought that he and Mel probably made much of their living photographing weddings, bar mitzvahs and other such events. Naked pseudo-hippies were just part of another day's work.

I wanted to be conversational with Sandra, "How did it go, was it successful you think?" I wasn't self-conscious now about standing there as naked as a jaybird, an expression I heard my grandfather use but I had never understood it.

Sandra said, "Mike and Chloe, right? Yeah, I think it was good. All we've got to do is go through all these rolls of film and pick some. I don't know, maybe we'll do a three-page spread."

Having been on a college paper for a while I knew something about print production, "You're coming out in September, right?"

"We go to press in two weeks." That seemed like enough time to me.

"Pardon me, what time is it?" Also, pardon me for not wearing any clothes. It was like one of those dreams where you're naked in some inappropriate place except that I didn't feel embarrassed now.

Sandra looked at her watch, "It's about quarter after three." It was earlier than I had expected.

Denise walked over to where we had left our clothes and I followed her. She immediately started to get dressed so I did too. We sat down and she got a thermos out of her beach bag. What is in there, gin and tonic?

"Iced coffee," she said. "With milk and sugar; I hope you like it that way." Of course, she was going to have to drive later. This girl really did think of everything. I didn't know if caffeine effectively counteracted cannabis, but it couldn't hurt.

My own head was clearing so I was able to tell a mostly coherent story about my experiences in the summer of '69. In July I was a fourteen year-old having his final trip to the Ten Mile River Scout camp on the Delaware River. That was only a few miles from the Yasgur's Farm site used in August.

She asked me, "When you heard about Woodstock, did you wish you had been there?"

"I really didn't know the bands then." I left out the part about the photos of the skin-dipping girls. I said to her, "How about you?"

"I was only thirteen then, there was no way I was going there." So she was about a year younger than I was, probably entering her sophomore year.

A few other people were dressed now and appeared ready to drift off. I looked at Denise, this girl who had wanked and blown me today and who was now sitting with me as if we were on some class field trip like Introduction to Geology.

Talking of our lives away from this lake gave me an uneasy vision of what could happen next. She would give me a lift to the bus stop at Byzantium and say, "It's been nice meeting you. Good luck at CCNY. Bye!" Maybe I would never see her dark hair and round breasts and fleshy thighs again.

I had to think of a follow-up, some strategy to deal with this. I thought, man up and ask her for a date, a date next week perhaps. But what if she has a boyfriend she is returning to after this adventure, some guy in Yonkers or at Fordham? What if this was just a fling for her, a one-afternoon stand?

Inadvertently she helped bail me out, "Your car, is it over there someplace?"

"I didn't bring one. I came up here on the bus."

"The bus, wow! So ride with me then." She must have seen some expression in my face. "I mean back to the city." That was great, I had been given more time to plan something. I knew I didn't want to be merely left on my home block in the Bronx.

In another half-hour we were saying goodbye to Sandra, who was still preoccupied with her notes. It was likely we would never see her again unless we had the urge to join another shoot. Mel and Martin were off somewhere, perhaps sharing a flask of bourbon or whatever they needed to unwind.

In the tangle of cars Denise pointed to hers, "It's a '70; I just got it this spring." It was a blue four-door Ford Torino, a plain but somehow likable vehicle.

Was she cleared-headed enough to drive? I felt all right myself, so I assumed she did too. We were young enough to feel invulnerable.

Now I had made a plan. For once in your life be decisive. Ask for a date for tonight, not next week. When we were seated and she had started the engine I had my line ready, "Let's get something to eat."

"Great, I noticed that Sandra and company had nothing for us. I'm famished."

Continue to be decisive, I thought. There were diners on 17, others in Yonkers after we got off the Tappan Zee Bridge. But no, not those. "We don't have to go into Manhattan. I'd say, how about City Island or Arthur Avenue?"

So I had offered her a choice in this matter, both of them in the Bronx. City Island had seafood, Arthur Avenue Italian food. She said, "I know a couple of places around Arthur Avenue." Of course, Fordham University was right next to it. So, there, it was done, we had a date for this evening.

We quickly reached the end of the rural road and she turned south into 17. She said, "You mentioned something about coming up here to meet girls. So I assume you don't have a girlfriend in the city?"

It was a tricky question and perhaps not a fair one, but I couldn't just blow it off. I could say that I had broken up with someone last semester but that would be a lie and lying seemed a bad way to start with someone. I didn't want to say that I never had one and thus look pathetic. She'd find out at some point I supposed but it didn't have to be now. But I did have a half-truth to fall back on.

"For a while I was pursuing this girl on my paper named Lenore Diamond." Pursuing was an exaggeration; pining for was more accurate. "I had a song to go along with her too, you know, 'Diamond Girl.' " I always had a song to go along with my infatuations.

She laughed at that, "Oh yeah, Seals and Crofts." An unhip band to her I guess, although I perhaps thought so too; I always had trouble keeping up with musical trends. Was she laughing with me or at me?

I had a comeback, "It's not their worst song; that would be 'Summer Breeze.' "

"Maybe, but I do like that line, 'a little bit of earth that heaven has rained on.' "

I thought, please God, don't let this Denise become another unrequited love that will have me moping all Fall.

Denise said, "Since she doesn't seem to be working out, you should be pursuing me instead."

I had an inspiration, "I've already caught you, I mean back there at the lake."

She found that funny, "Yes, indeed you have." She took her right hand off the wheel and squeezed my shoulder. She continued, "Besides, there are some things we need to finish about that, and soon. You know what I'm talking out."

I certainly did know, and I didn't need to comment further. But I did need a bit more confirmation for the longer term.

"Have you ever been to the City College campus? I could show you around."

"I get it, you want to introduce me to your friends there."

That was true but I didn't want to put it that way. She helped me here, "It okay, really. And you should visit Fordham. It's practically down the block from you."

That sounded very good. "Hey, what kind of name is Hollander?"

"It was originally Horowitz, but it was changed long before I was born."

It was all falling into place now. I should thank Sandra for picking me, but she probably didn't care about it one way or another. I wondered if I was still technically a virgin. I decided that partially virginity did exist and I had lost a good 75% of it at the lake.

Trying to play it cool now, I said, "Let's play some music."

"Go ahead; I've got FM on this car."

I turned on the radio and scanned for something, landing in the middle of a song.

Well, I'm a standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona
And it's such a fine sight to see
It's a girl, my Lord in a flatbed Ford
Slowing down to take a look at me.

I said, "I went through Winslow last month, on a Greyhound bus."

"You seem to have a thing for buses. Isn't that where the meteor crater is?"

"That's the place. You can see it from the highway."

"Do they actually have any corners there?"

"Not too many. There's about three cross-streets in the whole town."

The song continued,

Take it easy, take it easy
Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy
Come on baby, don't say maybe
I gotta know if you're sweet love is gonna save me.

It had been a good day: I'd had my first kiss, my first handjob, my first blowjob. I was about to go on my first date. It wasn't going in the order I had once expected for myself, but I was satisfied for the moment.

She brought up a difficult topic. "You know, when this issue comes out, your name isn't going to be in it but your face will be. People at your school are going to recognize you."

I had sort of wondered about that before but I hadn't explicitly considered the implications. One of the characteristics of being twenty is not thinking through on consequences. I said, "So what does that all mean?"

"I'm not sure, are there a lot of issues of The Zone floating around CCNY?"

"Yeah, usually there are."

She shrugged, "Maybe you'll be a sort of minor celebrity there for a few months."

I wasn't sure whether I liked that or not but it was probably too late to do anything about it. "How about Fordham, do they read it there too?"

"Not too much, I mean it's around, but it's not that common." She gave me a serious look, "Are you going to be stolen away by some girl at your school who sees pictures of you, ah, in flagrante delicto?"

I got the feeling she was pulling my leg, yet she was truly a bit concerned too. I said, "No, not unless a guy at Fordham sees your photos in the buff and makes a play for you."

"Then we have an agreement to be aware of these temptations?" And deliver us from evil, amen?

I lean over and kissed her. "Denise, I think we have a deal here," and we both laughed.

*****

[The Zone newspaper described here is fictional of course. However, I recently found out that there were "flash papers" published in 1840s New York that had lists of brothels and the descriptions of the women in them, plus sexually-oriented cartoons and illustrations (photography wasn't in common use then). Some of these publications included The Rake and Libertine.]