******
It turned out that Lynn changed her mind about the “theater sex” escapade I had proposed for the day we had picked up our yearbooks. She thought that wearing blue jeans would be awkward for her during such a stunt. Also, I think she needed a bit of time to think things over and get ready for it.
So on yearbook day, we went to another venerable Bronx venue, the RKO Fordham, and we saw Emperor of the North Pole. It was a rousing epic of hobos versus railroad men during the Depression. Lynn loved it, but so did I; I’d watch anything with trains, especially steam trains, in it.
A few days later she called me and told me she’d be ready to go on the following day, assuming I was up to it as well. It was to be at the Paradise, as I originally proposed. I said yes, and she had one condition for me. She wanted me to pick her up outside her building on Wallace Avenue.
I asked her, “Sure, but is there any particular reason for that?” It wasn’t that far out of the way for me and I had done it before.
She replied, “Oh, you’ll find out when you get here.”
The next day I was outside her building when she came down. I had spoken to her on the intercom first. When she emerged from the lobby, I saw that she was wearing a short black skirt with white dots. It was shorter than any skirt or dress that I had seen her in before. Her pale, slender legs emerged below the hemline.
After kissing me, she said, “So, what do you think of this?”
I tried to be cool about it, and I replied, “It certainly looks notable.” I had said something like that on graduation day.
“Just notable, huh? As you can probably guess, this is the reason I had you meet me here today.”
“Actually, I don’t get it.”
“All right, I’ve never worn something this short before. I think if I walk around in public like this, I’d get too many guys ogling me and maybe trying to pick me up or otherwise giving me a hard time.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because I know how guys operate. You should see yourself; you’re gaping at me.”
I tried to deny it, “I hadn’t realized that. So am I supposed to be your protector or something?”
“Guys usually won’t mess with a girl when she’s with her own guy.” She laughed. “Even someone like you.”
I must have had an expression of being offended or that my feelings had been hurt. She said, “Hey, don’t worry about it. But be honest; what are you really thinking about right now?”
It seemed like a good time to appear clever and cocky, so I told her the truth. “First of all, I’m wondering about what kind of panties you have on, assuming you have them at all. The second thing is that I’m imagining putting my hands under your skirt and yanking them off.”
“I am so wearing panties. They’re quite cute, in fact. When I get a chance, I’ll give you a flash.” She gave me an appraising look. “You see what I mean about guys? You already have an erection; it’s pushing against the front of your pants.”
All I could say was, “I can’t help it”
“Yeah, I bet you can’t help it.”
I looked down at her feet. “What’s with the tennis shoes?”
“I never wear sandals on New York streets. I need a little more between my feet and whatever is lying around on these pavements.” Then she patted a cloth bag she had over her shoulder. “I also have an extra, longer skirt in here in case I have to go off on my own.”
“I thought some women like to display themselves.”
“Well, not me so much, except to people I know and trust.” She took my hand. “Let’s go and have some cinematic fun.”
As we crossed Pelham Parkway to get to the bus, we cut across one of the malls separating the roadways. When we were a in a small grove of trees, Lynn looked around and then raised her skirt above her waist. Her panties were very nice skimpy pink ones. They might have been the same ones she had worn on graduation day.
She shook her ass at me; then she turned around to give me the front view. When she dropped her skirt, she said, “I bet you’re really getting hard now.”
I couldn’t manage to be clever or cool then. “Oh yeah, it’s definitely having any impact.”
She took my hand again. “Come on, let’s go and do something about it.”
The movie playing at The Paradise that day was Hitler: The Last Ten Days. Like Soylent Green, it was a film I had wanted to see, but that was not why we were there on that day. We arrived fifteen minutes early so we could settle into our seats. We tried to go to the balcony, but it was closed, either until the evening or perhaps forever.
As we expected, there were less than two dozen people in the huge space downstairs. Lynn and I started a make-out session as soon as we sat down.
There was one usher for the entire place, but when the showing started, he would either sit to the side and take a nap, or go somewhere else in the building and read a book or jerk off or whatever he wished to do. There was no point in him watching the movie after the first day because it was run a half-dozen times daily.
When the house lights went down, Lynn and I got into some serious fondling of each together. I got a hand under her skirt and into her panties so that I could stroke her. She unbuckled my pants, and she grabbed my already erect cock. Then she opened up her blouse and undid her bra. Her chest was nearly flat, but her nipples were already erect as I started to suck on them.
We whispered dirty things to each other, even if in hindsight they were a bit silly.
“I just love your hot, sweet cunt. You’re such a bad girl, Lynn.”
“And you’re such a bad boy. I know your balls and cock are just filling with cum.” Then she said, “Speaking of cum, I need to get my hand cream out and clear your pump so you can then do some serious fucking.”
“Why not just blow me?”
“I considered that, but I think this will be easier.”
Her nimble fingers worked on my stiff shaft as my own hands tweaked her sensitive nipples. When I came I leaned as far to the right as I could and shot off into the seat next to me.
I leaned back and Lynn giggled, “I wouldn’t want to be the next person to sit in that.”
I caught my breath, “Do they ever clean these things?”
“I hope so, or the seats in the back and in the balcony would be encrusted with semen by now.”
I tried to imagine how many people had gotten off in there in the last forty-four years. Meanwhile, we sat with our arms around each other’s shoulders and half-watched whatever those doomed Nazis were doing up there on the screen.
After about fifteen minutes, Lynn took the initiative. “Are you ready for the main act? Because I know I am.”
I was young enough to recover pretty quickly. “Yeah, let’s do it.”
First she removed her panties, and left them on the seat next to her. Then she got down on her hands and knees, lifted her skirt, and raised her behind towards me. Her bag went under her knees to cushion them from the hard surface of the floor.
She commented, “The floor is just filthy in here, as I had predicted.”
I had more important issues to deal with. Her pale ass was very visible in the darkness of the room. I knelt behind her. Maybe I was being overly cautious, but I didn’t want to drop my pants all the way down.
Lynn said, “Please fondle me, I need more arousal.” As I did that, she made quiet little moans.
When I felt she was wet enough, and she was moving around as my fingers stroked her, I grabbed her hips, simply moved forward, and entered her. The sound she made with that action sounded like “Oh-h-h-h.” Fortunately, the sound of the movie itself covered whatever noises we made back there as long as we kept our voices down.
When she came, she lowered the front of her body and rammed herself repeatedly against my crotch. She slapped her hand against the floor a few times, something I had never seen her do before. It occurred to me that she would have preferred to yell loudly but she couldn’t do it in there.
Then it was my turn to keep my voice down as I shot off into her. Just before that, I managed to whisper, “Now you’re going to get it,” and then I was sucking air through my teeth. It felt like a long, satisfying climax.
I don’t think either one of his knew what to do next, so we stayed in that position for a few seconds. Then we got back into our seats, and held each other. The Nazis were still being evil on the screen, but I knew the Soviets were closing in on them.
A bit later she surprised me, “I’m in the mood for another go round. How about you?”
I had an inspiration. “How about you lie on the floor and I’ll get on top of you?”
“No, you get on the floor and I’ll straddle you, cowgirl style.”
That seemed fair enough, and she did put her bag under my head as a kind of pillow. I held her hips and I looked up into her face. What happened to that quiet, seemingly innocent girl I had known a few weeks ago? She seemed so wanton now. Either she was revealing her true self, or she was changing rapidly by becoming my lover.
In any case, we then had our second passionate coupling of the day. I remember whispering in the middle of it, “That’s it Lynn, ride me, please ride me.” At eighteen, I had no problem coming a third time.
Afterwards, I wished we could lie in a bed and listen to records or take a nap. But there was nowhere for us to go. To partially make up for that, we cuddled in our seats again for a while and mostly avoided looking at the movie. We had completely lost track of it of course. but it was not like the ending was going to be a surprise.
After about a half-hour we got ready to leave the auditorium and go wash up. As we stood up, she said, “I’ve got an extra pair of panties in my bag, and I’m going to put them on when I’m in the ladies room.” She took out an ample pair of white ones. “See, granny panties. I’m going to need them with the amount of cum you left in me today.”
Her little pink garment was still on a seat. She giggled, “You can take those as a souvenir, as long as you give them back eventually.”
“And what am I supposed to do with them?”
“Oh, I think you know that already.”
As she said that, she briefly lifted her skirt and flashed her bare ass at me. I was young enough to be a bit embarrassed, and I tried a joke. “I’ll run them through a washing machine when I’m done.” That seemed like a truly dumb thing to say.
“Hey, whatever you think is best!” Yet, I did pick them up and put them into a back pocket. Outside, on the Grand Concourse, she had that expression of a well-banged young lady. I already knew what I wanted to do.
“Let’s go to 204th and Bainbridge. We can get drinks and something to eat.” She took my hand as we walked north. The Bx34 bus had us up there in twenty minutes.
****
Later we were sitting in an Irish pub having burgers and a few beers. I almost couldn’t believe it, but I was feeling randy again and I wouldn’t have minded another shot at Lynn. At eighteen, I was finally getting laid regularly and I was really feeling my oats. But I’d probably need my dad’s car to pull that off, and it was too late in the day to ask for it.
I said, “Now we have two movies to catch up on, assuming you care about the demise of Hitler.”
“Of course I do. It’s just that some different priorities had to be set today.”
A little later, Lynn said, “With these new slutty clothes, I feel like such a bad girl.”
I joshed with her, “Well, I know you’re not a slut. And you were kind of ambivalent about your outfit before.”
“Yes, but now I’m imagining what it would like to go around flaunting myself.” She smirked, “Maybe I could entice a guy into some action with me.”
I think she must have noticed that I looked surprised or shocked. I managed to say, in a matter-of-fact but serious way, “Okay Lynn, do whatever you want.”
She patted me on the arm. “Hey, I was just kidding you; you must realize that.”
Yet some doubts crept into my mind. I knew from my own experience that having sex for the first time had a subtle yet profound impact on a person. And I was almost certain that I was Lynn’s first serious lover, although she never talked about it.
Then I had to consider the abrupt way she had picked me up and how we had gotten into sexual acts almost immediately. There had been almost no romantic build-up at all. Was I really that attractive to her, or was this just the new way Lynn had decided to handle herself? This formerly modest girl now seemed quite flirty, forward even.
Also, by the fall, she would be at a different university than I was going to attend. There would be a whole bunch of new guys around her and I couldn’t keep tabs on what she was doing. Fordham University was only about two miles from my house, and not that far by subway from City College. Yet it was not the same as being on the same campus with her.
Of course, I didn’t mention any of that to her. Yet I couldn’t help but calculate what my longer-term prospects were. I was pretty sure I would have the summer with her, but after that, I didn’t know.
I felt like I loved Lynn, but I was too young and inexperienced to know what to do about her. For over ten years an “anything goes” attitude had prevailed over sexual matters in the United States. Was I simply Lynn’s “starter guy?” Did she even know herself yet? And was her former reluctance to flaunt herself starting to fade?
To distract myself, I remembered what her cunt and pubic hair looked like. By that point I had seen them several times. Maybe I should have distracted myself with something else. I was also aware that her original pink underwear was in my pants pocket.
Then suddenly, her underpants came back into the picture. She said, “Excuse me for a moment while I go to the ladies’ room.” When she returned, she got back into her seat and leaned over the table. She had some kind of white cloth in her hand, which she dropped in my lap. I looked down, and I saw it the granny panties she had put on in the theater.
It was a bit embarrassing, and I took them but I had nowhere to put them. No one around us seemed to notice. She laughed, “They are a completely soaked with your cum, but it’s starting to dry out.”
“So you’re not wearing anything under there, are you?”
“Of course not.” She leaned forward. “And you know what, it feels great!”
I had to ask her, “How is that?”
“It makes me feel like the bad, sexy, filthy girl I had wanted to be, but I was too scared to let it out.”
“Do you want these back now?”
“No, you can keep them for a while. Stuff them into your other back pocket. Then, when you’re home, you will have both pairs. You can jerk off imagining both the good girl Lynn and the bad girl Lynn.” She winked at me. “But the bad one is much more fun!”
There was something a bit off about the way she had put that. I looked into her face, and from the way she was smiling at me, I would have guessed that that we were at the beginning of a very long and happy relationship. But then negative thoughts came back to me. If she looks this good when she gets to Fordham, and she’s this negligent about her underwear, then I’m going to be in trouble.
******
The RKO Fordham, built in 1921, has since been demolished and replaced by stores.