Return to Paradise

This is a sequel to The Back of Paradise. It is taking place in the Bronx in 1973. The Paradise Theater still exists, but it is now used as a church. There is a consensual spanking in this, but also a suggestion — or a promise really — that she is going to switch it around and give it to him too eventually.

All of the characters in this are over eighteen. That was also the minimum drinking age in New York State at the time.

*******

My high school graduation was in the venerable Loew’s Paradise Theater on the Grand Concourse. I had been in there a few times earlier to see afternoon movies when the 4,000 seat venue was virtually empty.

But something else significant had recently happened in there. A few weeks earlier I had been picked up by a girl from my physics class at my high school, Bronx Science. I had seen this girl, Lynn Kepler, for a while but we had said nothing to each other before. Meanwhile, I was an eighteen-year-old virgin pining away for a girl named Miriam who was seated next to me in the same class.

This Miriam couldn’t stand me as far as I knew, but I was stuck with her. The teacher was one of those old-school guys who had to have everyone seated in alphabetical order. Obviously, it made it easier for him to take attendance in his Delaney book. It is was hell for me however because I was trapped with Miriam by my side for all of that time.

I don’t know what it is about a young person’s mind that creates these absurd obsessions. Years later the movie Say Anything would examine the phenomenon. But while the film had a happy ending, in reality such situations usually didn’t end well at all. Meanwhile, there were four hundred other girls in my senior class whom I was completely ignoring.

One of them was Lynn Kepler, who was sitting in a row behind me, bidding her time perhaps. Or maybe she just made an impulsive decision. In any case, in the very last weeks of our time in high school, she came right up to me at my bus stop. “We should both go somewhere together, I mean right now.”

I didn’t know that girls could initiate dates or why she had picked me at the very end of our time in high school. But it was my job as the male to choose something, so I said we should see Soylent Green at the Paradise Theater.

Except, we never actually saw the movie. Our time was spent in one of the back rows of the nearly empty theater. We indulged in some very heavy petting. A more accurate term would be “mutual masturbation.” We fondled each other’s genitals until we both had orgasms. Lynn was particularly impressed when I ejaculated while sitting in my seat. “Man, that really looks great,” she said while witnessing my spurts going up and out.

After that, we had lost track of the movie, so we left and had a late lunch. And just like that, in less than an hour, I had landed my first girlfriend, or maybe she had landed me. And she was a very pleasing girlfriend who enjoyed having sex with me.

Then it was soon graduation day, and the class of ’73 gathered on the sidewalk in front of the same theater on a warm, overcast morning. I was wearing my one sport coat, a horrible blue polyester number that I was too young to be embarrassed about. One of my acquaintances, a guy named Jeff whom I had known since junior high, was going on about the Jesus Christ Superstar album.

Then who should walk up but my long-term love object Miriam Dubinsky. She didn’t have a guy with her, I noted. She was a short girl with dark blonde hair. On this day, she looked very virginal in her short white dress, white stockings, and white shoes. Now that I think about it, she probably was indeed a virgin although she sometimes dropped hints that she wasn’t.

I had no idea why she choose my little group of people to chat with. It certainly couldn’t have been because of my presence. But sometimes I thought she knew what I was thinking and she enjoyed putting on an unobtainable femme fatale act. At that point, I was simply glad that I didn’t have to be concerned with her any longer.

Then Lynn came gliding up. She was taller than Miriam, and her dark hair was pinned up. As for her clothes, in contrast with Miriam, her short dress was black, and her nylons and shoes were dark.

At first, she just came up to me and stood there. She looked great, and she knew it. I was trying not to gawk at her, but it was hard to avoid doing that. Finally, she said, “So, how do I look? Pretty good, right?”

I wanted to play it cool. “You certainly look noticeable.”

“Just noticeable? Would it kill you to give me a compliment?”

“That was a compliment.”

She laughed, and then she put her arms around me and kissed me warmly. When we pulled back, I noticed that Jeff and Miriam were looking at us. Miriam had an odd expression like perhaps she was a bit dismayed. I was feeling rather cocky, so I thought, yeah baby, I know you’re surprised, but I can get a really nice chick if I try.

We stepped away from the others and then Lynn briefly pointed her thumb at the building. “That’s sort of our theater, isn’t it? I mean, we had a pretty hot time in the back row.”

“We still haven’t seen Soylent Green yet.”

“Maybe we should come back here this summer for something.”

I dared say, “You know, when it’s so empty, I think we could pull off intercourse in there.”

“Oh really, and how do you propose to do that?”

I had thought it through. “You could get down on your hands and knees on the floor. Then you’d stick your ass up and I’d kneel behind you — I’d take you from behind, in other words.”

“Great, I’d have to be down there with two generations of spilled sodas and other crap on the floor.”

“I’d make it worth your while Lynn, I promise.”

“You certainly have a good imagination, I can see that. You almost have me sold on the idea now.”

In a short while, it was time to enter the Paradise. I couldn’t sit with Lynn, but I’d meet her immediately afterwards. I knew my dad was supposed to attend too, but he wasn’t there to see me enter.

1973 was the last year the place was still in its original 1929 configuration of almost 4,000 seats, including those in the balcony. The interior was of some kind of Italian Baroque or Venetian design, but most patrons probably thought of it as merely “fancy.”

It was a strange place to watch a movie on a weekday afternoon when perhaps twenty people would be seated in the huge auditorium. I remember seeing Serpico and The New Centurions under such conditions. Later, of course, Lynn and I had put on our own show in the back, a production perhaps called Let’s Feel Up Each Other Up Until We Both Come. It was definitely more fun to create our own “content” as compared to whatever Hollywood had to offer.

I hardly remember what my boring high school commencement had to offer. At the end, we were let out through the fire exits at the back to Creston Avenue. I finally caught up with my dad, and then soon after that Lynn appeared.

My dad knew I was going to be having lunch with my girl, not him. He was also kind enough to lend me his car for the afternoon. I’m sure he had a pretty good idea of what Lynn and I were going to be doing in that car, but he had met Lynn several times before, and she knew how to put on some charm when she had to. Maybe he was pleased that I had finally found someone to date.

As Lynn and I crossed Fordham Road about a block to the north, we saw Miriam crossing too with her dad. Lynn had her arm through mine, and she said, “There’s you’re little physics class cutie. You sure you don’t want to go up and make a final play for her?”

“Definitely not, I never want to ever see her again.

We had lunch at a very narrow burger place on Fordham Road. Then it was time to take the bus on Webster Avenue to pick up the car. My dad worked overnight hours, so the car would be ours until about 10:00 PM if we wanted it. My mom worked during the day, so she wasn’t around when we got to my apartment.

I soon had the keys to our family car. It was a huge 1968 Pontiac Bonneville that I had nicknamed The Green Whale. It was so low and wide that driving it through narrow New York streets was a chore. I had just gotten my license, and I missed the dull but compact Dodge Dart the driving school had supplied. But there was plenty of room in the back seat, which suited our needs perfectly.

Parking with a girl for naughty acts in New York during the middle of the day took some planning, but I had found a couple of places that worked. On that day we were going to a wing of Van Cortandt Park just off Jerome Avenue. There was a paved road that led into the area, then it was possible to pull off into the bushes and have some privacy.

Once we were in there, Lynn and I were ready to go, and we were soon on the black vinyl seat in the back. During our make-out session, I unzipped her dress in the back. Then I undid her bra and I fondled her breasts and nipples. Lynn was not shy about letting me know what she liked, and boob play was high on her list.

After a while, she said to me, “I know what a hair-trigger you young guys are on, so I’m going to get you off first. I want you to have the stamina for me when you get to it.”

We had done that before, and she had used either her hands or her mouth to do it. Today, it was her hands, and she got right to it. As she undid my pants, she said in mock surprise, “Oh my, you’re so erect already.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t expect that,” and she laughed at that.

She had some hand cream in her purse, and she used it to lubricate my cock. I had indeed learned something from her in the previous month. She had taught me that when masturbating, instead of rubbing against a blanket or pillow, it was easier just to lube up and then stroke myself.

It’s funny how these things are not always so obvious, especially as they were in the world of 1973. Nowadays one can go online and find endless “cumshot compilation” videos of guys working on themselves or having their girlfriends (or boyfriends) doing it for them.

As we sat there, Lynn used her left hand to hold me around the base while her right hand stroked the shaft. That seemed to be a very efficient method, and I was soon moaning with each of her strokes. She said, “There baby, this is going well, show your girl what a big load you can fire off for her.”

As I approached my climax, Lynn encouraged me. “I can feel it, you’re almost there. Don’t hold it back.”

I managed to say, “Believe me, I’m not holding anything back.”

When I came, I tried to move forward so it all wouldn’t come back down on my own clothes. I mostly succeeded. I yelled and the two biggest spurts hit the back of the seats just in front of me. Then I fell back in my own seat.

Lynn said, “I like your style.”

“Yeah, but look at the mess I made.”

“At least it’s vinyl, not cloth. Besides, your dad isn’t going to look back here.”

“I can clean it up with soap and water; it’s no big deal.”

Then I remembered something that I was going to bring up with her. I had no idea if she was going to go for it, but I felt bold enough to give it a try. I had pulled my trousers back up but I hadn’t buckled them yet.

“Lynn, remember that day when we first went to the theater? When we were standing outside later you said that you had been a very bad girl and you needed a good spanking.”

“Oh yeah, I remember that.” That was my first surprise; that she hadn’t forgotten it.

“And do you remember what you were doing that was so naughty?”

She had some natural acting ability and she played it perfectly. “I know, I had been giving handjobs to guys in theaters.” Actually, I had been the only one — or at least I thought so.

She put on a show of being contrite, “I’m sorry, I can’t help myself. I see a guy and I think of his big cock in his pants and I want to stroke it until he comes.” I wondered if she may have indeed done that before she had met me, but I doubted it.

“Well, that’s very naughty. And I did say that I would be the one to discipline you.”

Now she really looked downcast, “I know, I deserve it. So when do I get my spanking?”

I thought, it can’t really be this easy, there must be something I’m missing here. I said, “Right here, right now would be good.”

She did a good job of faking dismay, “Oh, all right, if you think it’s best, then I’ll submit to it.”

Despite the tightness in my throat, I said, “Okay, then get yourself over my knees.” And just like that, she placed herself over my lap. Her feet remained down in the footwell.

Let’s see how this goes. I lifted the hem of her dress above her waist. She had cute little pink panties that showed through the nylon of her pantyhose.

Then I did something on an impulse that I worried might be a big mistake and that might jeopardize the whole thing. But I was wrong. Lynn went along with exactly what I wanted.

What I did was find a small run in her pantyhose near the top of her right thigh. I put a couple of fingers in it and ripped the stocking all the way down below her knee.

She was surprised but she also seemed pleased by my action. I heard her say, “Oh my,” but she didn’t try to stop me. I figured, what the hell, and proceeded to shred her hosiery until there was nothing left except the waistband and the remnants dangling below her knees.

“I guess I’ve been an exceptionally bad girl haven’t I?”

I can’t believe this chick actually likes this craziness. Later in life, I would find out that people had many different fetishes, some of them much weirder than my own.

“Yes, Lynn, you need to be punished for what you have done.”

“Is it going to be a hard spanking?”

“That’s the only way it can be effective.” I put a hand into the top of her panties and lowered them below her knees. “And of course, it’s going to be on your bare backside.”

“I know, please give it to me.”

I looked at her slender hips and thighs, and her pale skin. Her ass crack was right in front of me. My erection was back, and it felt huge. She had to feel it pushing up against my pants. And in fact, she rubbed her hips against me to indicate that she was well aware of my condition.

For some reason I had to say, “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay, get your behind up so I have a good target.”

I had never spanked a girl before, but I figured it couldn’t be that complicated. We had no safe word — I had never heard that phrase — but if she wanted to get up, she could have easily done so. I’m not a big guy, and I couldn’t force her to stay in position. But through the entire thing, she made no attempt to get away.

It seemed best to have a slow but steady rhythm, one ass cheek at a time. Lynn groaned with each stroke, and she wriggled around on my lap. Her legs scissored back and forth. But she stayed and took whatever I dished out.

I chided her at times, which seemed like the natural thing to do. “Lynn, are you going to be a good girl from now on?”

“Oh yes, I’m going to be the best girl you’ve ever seen.” My thought possibly contradicted her. You already are the best girl I’ve ever seen. “Oh please don’t stop, I need to be punished.”

I noted how her behind went from white to pink to red. Am I really doing this to her, and why? But I liked it, and she did too. When my hand got numb, I stopped and said, “Okay, grab and rub yourself if you wish,” and she immediately did that. Then I rubbed her myself, and I felt how hot her flesh was. She looked at me, and I could see tears in her eyes,

She expressed anger, “You’re a real bastard for doing this, you know that?” But then she opened her legs so I could see her genitals, and I noticed how wet her pussy was.

“You really got turned on by that.”

“Oh yes, I certainly did. I hurt but it also felt wonderful.”

I had heard of corner time, and I considered having her kneel in the footwell while she held her dress up. But there was no chance of that happening on this day. She got off of me and said, “Get your cock out again.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now. Lie down on the seat and I’ll get on top, cowgirl style. That will be easier on my poor rear end.” Then she giggled and said, “Plus there is not a lot of headroom in here.”

I was amazed at how fast she was ready to go. She straddled me and reached down to guide my cock into her dripping cunt. I gripped her hips and we banged away at each other.

“So, I’m a bastard, am I?”

“Yes, but you’re my bastard and I love you.”

“I should spank you more often.”

“Whatever you think is best.”

Lynn had her left leg folded up on the seat next to me, and her right one was down in the footwell. We said a lot of the usual dumb things people say during sex.

Lynn, “Oh God, fuck me as hard as you can.”

Me, “I am doing it as hard as I can.”

She came first. Her hands gripped my shoulders, and her hips rotated around my cock. She managed to bump her head against the car’s ceiling, but I don’t think she noticed. Her caterwauling was impressive.

I said, “Lynn, don’t stop, I’m almost there.” She didn’t answer, but she definitely didn’t stop or even slow down either. A few seconds later I shot off up into her; I liked ejaculating upwards. I don’t think I was coherent, but she managed to say something. “That’s it, come in me, I can feel your load spurting up and it feels so hot!”

She fell face down on me, and then we were quiet for few moments. I could hear birds outside the car. I was suddenly aware again of the rest of the world, of the overcast day and the bushes and trees surrounding the Pontiac. It was more than a touch disconcerting to imagine us in our green box with reality churning around beyond it. I knew that about a half-mile away, people were getting on and off the elevated trains at Woodlawn.

There was no room for Lynn to lie next to me, so she got off and sort of got down in the footwell. We said nothing, but she put her arm over me and I stroked her hair.

Finally, she said, “Well, congratulations on graduating.”

“You too.”

“That was a real class of ’73 kind of fuck.”

I said, “I wonder how many others of them are doing it too?”

“Knowing that bunch, I’d say not many.”

I was at a loss about what should happen next, but Lynn knew. “Wait a few minutes to get your stamina back, and then we’ll do it again.”

I was actually a bit confused, “Do what again?”

“Silly, what we just did. You’re eighteen; I’m sure you’re up for it.”

This time when she mounted me, I could feel my cream pie inside of her. It started to pour out of her as we moved together.

“Oh, Lynn, I want to put more of that into you.”

She sounded strangely calm about it, “That’s fine. I’m sure you’re going to do a very good job of it.”

******

Afterwards, we drove to the Riverdale Diner and got coffees or sodas. It seemed that Lynn had the look of a well-fucked young lady, languid and yet a bit stunned at the same time. I wondered if I had a similar expression on my face.

I knew the remnants of her pantyhose were in her bag. I said, “I guess I owe you a new pair of stockings.”

She briefly pulled out a piece of nylon and flashed it at me before putting it back.

“That would be the gentlemanly thing to do.”

Then she squirmed on the bench seat. “Man, you really whacked me but good.”

“Well, you asked for it, so you got it.”

She laughed, “Yes, that’s certainly true! I was very bad and I got what I deserved.”

Perhaps I was in an elegiac mood. “So that’s certainly over, I mean high school. It seemed to go on forever.” At eighteen, one’s sense of time is different and four years appears to be a big block of time.

“Do you remember your first day?”

“Yeah, I was still living in Morris Heights, so I had to take the subway. When I got off at Bedford Park, these older guys saw I had a notebook, which I didn’t need, and they said, ‘Hah, he must be a freshman.’ ”