Upside Down by William Larmer

This entry is part 5 of 12 in the series Issue XIII: Summer 2013

          Not sure when I first noticed him but I sure was interested from the first moment I did. One of those bad boy types—you know the type—why—o—o why do they always seem so titillating. Me being shy of seventeen—I guess I was still considered jailbait. Making this even more like one of those stories in a true romance magazine that my grandmother kept by her bedside. I would sneak into her bedroom when she was either out at a Daughter’s of the American Revolution meeting or to choir practice—knowing I had the luxury of a few hours to catch up on my romance. The latest cover had a woman with her heaving breast a good three sizes bigger than any breast I had ever seen. Frankly I never noticed women’s breast size but it seemed to be of interest to most of my other male friends. She was of no interest but the man in the wife beater Tee shirt [I hate that term but for the lack of a better word] standing in the background leaning against the bed with a five a clock shadow and muscles the size of cantaloupes. Well he was mine—all mine. The stories were often strange and didn’t keep my attention for very long. Even the photos only held my interest for about five minutes. I was dying for the real thing and waiting in anticipation for my first opportunity for real action.

          There was this roomer—a young attractive man who definitely caught my attention. My grandmother had started taking in roomers in her large seventeen room Victorian home. She would sit every Friday evening out in the front hallway and wait for these men to arrive home so she could collect the rent —weekly. He was one of them —the youngest and the cutest. He paid me minus zero attention. Hence making him all the more attractive to me. I would wait longingly for him to arrive back at my grandmothers. Often I could hear him walking up her hallway stairs, putting his key in the door unlocking it .As soon as his light was on I made a be line straight for the keyhole—you see I had the room next door to his and the only thing separating our rooms was a locked door. Lets just say trying to see an image that even resembled something like a male body was non existing. A flash of something white went by once and other than thinking it might be his white underwear and his building cock or was it the sheet on the bed. Frustration was my middle name. Hearing him climb the steps really got my attention and this feeling of adrenalin would surge through my body—if only—-.If only I wasn’t quite sure of but perhaps he would know what to do since I wasn’t quite sure being not very experience with those kinds of things in the sexual department. You know what I mean. It gave me sort of a thrill but I was on a mission and had to move on this was getting me no where but I wasn’t quite sure of where was I going—-But was I willing and able.

          Seeing the boys nude in the school locker room wasn’t for me. You see I wanted a man not a boy—yes –sitting in home room every week—Monday thru Friday watching the cute sexy drop out stand out across the street in his tight tee with the sleeves rolled up —smoking—combing his hair—I swear you can’t make this stuff up—focus—focus –where was I —-O-THE NEW ALL MASCULINE MAN WHO I SPOTTED LOOKING AT ME one day after school as I walked to my mothers office. He even had hair appearing out of the top of his tee shirt. Plus he actually looked in my direction a big incentive at the time. So I turned around at first to see what he was looking at for I realized it was me. Finally not a minute to soon for I thought I could drop dead and no one would ever give me the time of day. I realized it was me he was starring at—well at least this was more action I ever got from sitting behind the Trailways bus station a block away from my mothers office. Men would look alright as I sat on one of the park benches in the park behind the bus station and some—ok just a few would rub there crotches—listen it only takes one—right. Little did I know I probably looked like ten years old—-who would take a chance on those odds. And they were all the wiser. My mother had wised up to me years before—I was constantly watched and even stalked by her many times. If I had a budding little Lolita I guess I would have watched him too.

          There he is again I noticed on my second day of wondering whether I would ever see the man again. Sure enough there he was the second day as I walked to MY MOTHERS OFFICE. Did he just smile at me turning around there was no one else so yes he did just smile at me. What do I do now—jesus Christ—mary and joseph I haven’t been this excited since I shook John F Kennedy’s hand when he was running for President. The next day there he is appearing hanging out around school—or at lunch when I was having a burger at Antines—-just the best burger anywhere—any how –anytime. Who not only had the best burgers but the best source of phonography magazines—you know the ones of the men in the jockstraps. How I ever stoled those magazines and not have gotten caught I will never know but I acquired quite a stash. There he is again just as I turned the corner appearing suddenly. Takes my breath away. What to do—what to do—–

          Mothers office was busy when I offered to take the mail to the main post office just down the block. She looked at me with quite a puzzled look for I never offered to do such a nice jesture before and surely it was a one time offer so she took me up on it.
She suggested that I also buy her some stamps and off I went. The steps to the post office were high leading to a opposing building. Purchasing the stamps and mailing her letters were a no brainer. Why hadn’t I done it before.

          As I excited the post office and looking down the stairs there standing by the mailbox there he stood –leaning his muscled physique over the top of the mailbox. It was a this moment I remembered the magazine cover of my grandmothers true romance magazine cover magazine and he was the man on the cover .My adrenalin worked overtime and if I didn’t have a heart attack at that very moment well I WOULD NEVER HAVE ONE. All of a sudden everything seemed as if in slow motion as I made my way down to lust —passion—I was no longer me but that women on the cover of the magazine—my breast budding forth in ecstasy and my ruby red lips waiting for his passionate tongue to enter my longing mouth—

          As I lifted the mail box slot to mail—–what ???? who knows —who cares—-

          “Bill!” I heard the scream of my mother calling out my name and the loudness of the mail box opening closing loudly—-

          “Yes, MOTHER,” as I turned and walked in her direction—never looking back.

Issue Navigation<< This is Our Everyday Route by Rhonda Lambert | Spring Sprung by Daisy Rangel >>