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From: "Jim C" <jimc_author@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Lucky Stiff by JiMC (19 of 46)--MF, FF, mc, md, magic, romance
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Date: Mon, 19 Sep 2005 02:10:10 -0400
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This story is copyright (c) 2003-2005.  All rights are
reserved by the author, including that of publication.
Posting on-line is only allowed when permission is explicitly
granted by the author, and then only for the complete story,
including this disclaimer.  Contact the author at
<jimc-author at excite dot com> for more information,
referring to this story ("Lucky Tickets 2: Lucky Stiff").

I explicitly grant permission to post this story to
StoriesOnline.net and asstr-mirror.org.

The following is a work of fiction and is just a fantasy.
Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely
coincidental and entirely unintentional.  There may be
references to people in a historical context, but they are
not really characters in this story.

This is a story that describes sexually explicit situations
in a fictional universe that only vaguely seems similar to
the one we live in.  Most of the characters in this story are
under aged.  However, the target audience is adults (people
over the age of eighteen) with broad minds.

* * *

This is a sequel to the story "Lucky Tickets," and as such,
you may want to read that story first to get a better
introduction to the characters present in both stories.  Like
a lot of sequels, it's not really meant to be read out of
order.

* * *

Chapter 19--Advice and Senior Weekend I

        Did you write the book of love?
        And do you have faith in God above,
        If the Bible tells you so?
        Now, do you believe in rock and roll?
        Can music save your mortal soul,
        And can you teach me how to dance real slow?
                -- American Pie (Don MacLean)


    After we returned from the junior high where we performed
the final performance of Music Man, Mr. Proilet invited me to
a late afternoon at Vaughn's.

    "Jim, I'm quite amazed at the amount you were able to
accomplish for the musical," my music teacher told me.

    I brushed off the compliment.  "This isn't my first
performance at the school.  However, I now know what the
other students went through to put on _Guys and Dolls_ and
_Annie Get Your Gun_."

    Mr. Proilet shook his head.  "You don't understand, Jim.
Nobody has bit off as much as you did for the musical.  This
year has been more of a cakewalk for me than it was in any
year past."

    "Huh?  I saw you working with _Seventy Six Trombones_ and
its final reprise, and that took a lot of hard work."

    "And while I was doing that, you were doing _Lida Rose_,
_Wells Fargo Wagon_, _Till There Was You_, _Marian the
Librarian_, the square dance number, and most of the others!
The bit of side business that you added for the train number
was classic."

    I laughed.  "Actually, the _Rock Island_ bits were added
by Roy..."

    "You suggested Roy, who nobody actually considered, as he
was a sophomore just as you, and he worked wonderfully!  In
addition, every one of the numbers you were responsible for
were nearly showstoppers, not just the ones that were
supposed to be showstoppers," Mr. Proilet interrupted.
"_Trouble_ got an ovation, but just about anybody could make
that song get one--it was written as an ovation piece.  You
made the _Lida Rose/Will I Ever Tell You_ duet an ovation
piece!  Almost all of the parts you put your effort into were
showstoppers, Jim."

    I shook my head.

    "Jim, you couldn't have put your own personal mark on
this play any more if you managed to stick _Hooked on a
Feeling_ into it, somewhere.  In fact, I was waiting to hear
the barbershop sing that on their offstage walk instead of
_Good Night Ladies_!"

    I laughed.  Roy actually suggested that--jokingly, of
course--at one point.

    "Jim, you have more talent as a sixteen year old than I
see in professional conductors of major symphonies.  I don't
think Lenny Bernstein will be looking over his shoulder at
you--at least, not until you graduate--but he's a fucking
minority!"

    I never heard my music teacher use profanity before.  He
was really impassioned.

    "Have you thought of Julliard?" Mr. Proilet asked,
seriously.

    I shook my head.  "Kristen has her heart set on Harvard,
and she's going to wait two years for me to be there with
her.  New York and Boston are five hours away by car, but on
a college student's schedule..."

    "How about Berklee?  That's in Boston."

    I heard of that school.  A bit different than Julliard,
but almost as prestigious.  I hadn't really considered
actually attending college.  I thought I'd find a job
somewhere in Cambridge as a trumpet or piano player...

    Mr. Proilet saw the uncertainty in my eyes.  "Jim, you
have a magical gift.  When I first saw you in seventh grade,
I thought, 'another damned prima-donna.' Thurd said that you
were exceptional, but he says that a lot.  This was one time
when he delivered.  If anything, he understated your ability!"

    Mr. Thurd was my music teacher in Junior High.  I
remember Mr. Proilet didn't take me seriously the first year
I did the musical, but by the time the show went to
performance, the relationship between Mr. Proilet and I
completely changed.  We were no longer adversarial, and he
kept pushing me to try more and more things.  I was singled
out as a soloist as well, which didn't make me very popular
with the older students.

    "Mr. Proilet, I mean no offense, but I'm quite aware that
there are two ways to spell the word 'musician,'" I said.
"The most common way is B-R-O-K-E.  Maybe if Kris and I get
married, money won't be a problem.  If that happens, I'll be
able to play just for the fun of it.  I don't want to..."

    Mr. Proilet wouldn't hear it.  "If you have money, you're
ahead of the game.  You need to consider this: Bernstein
isn't hurting for money, neither is Fiedler.  You have the
potential to dwarf either one.  You might not do the Pops
every year, or you might not get the opportunity to rewrite
Romeo and Juliet as a musical, but you'll do your own thing.
I know it, Jim."

    "I still have a couple of years in school," I said.
"I'll continue to work at what I'm doing.  I think it's fun,
and while it continues to be fun, I'll continue doing it."

    Mr. Proilet sighed.  "You give me a couple of years, and
don't slack off.  I'll get you a scholarship so that Kristen
doesn't need to be an issue.  Marry her--she's your muse and
just the two of you together spurs you on to astronomical
heights.  I've seen you grow this year more than you have in
any other previous year, and this year, whenever you did
something wonderful, Kristen was right there.  However, even
if anything happens with the two of you, I can probably get
you a scholarship to Julliard, Berklee, or anywhere else that
has a realistic music program."

    I never saw Mr. Proilet so animated.  It was
embarrassing.  I don't consider myself to be as good as any
of the people the Mr. Proilet was saying, but I figured he
was just trying to hammer the point home.

    "I'll make you this promise, Mr. Proilet."

    "Jean." He pronounced it the French way, like "John."

    "Jean?"

    "My first name.  You are more than my equal.  Call me
Jean.  If you wish to call me Mister in class, feel free.
Between us, we're friends.  Soon I'll be calling you Mister."

    "If you say so," I said, feeling strange.  "I'll make you
this promise, Jean: When music becomes work, I will stop
working.  Until then, I'll continue working hard at it.  All
right?"

    My music teacher furrowed his brow trying to make sense
of what I said.  Finally, he smiled.  "The day that music
becomes work to you, we'll have a real _American Pie_... it
will definitely be the day the music dies."

    I laughed at the reference.  It was difficult to consider
this man that I've called Mr. Proilet as 'Jean,' but I'd try
to remember.  As long as music continued to be fun, it would
be what I liked to do.  Doing it with Mr. Proilet was always
fun.

    Mr. Proilet paid the tab and he drove me back to the High
School.  Kristen was waiting by her Camaro.

    "Sorry for stealing Jim for so long, Kristen," Mr.
Proilet said.

    "That's all right.  I just got out from doing some
planning with some friends a few minutes ago."

    In the car, and back at the apartment, Kristen and I
talked about what Mr. Proilet said.  I told her my big fear:
a school such as Julliard might be so focused on turning me
into their idea of a musician that I might never become my
own idea of a musician.

    "Why didn't you tell that to your teacher?" Kristen asked.

    "I'm not sure," I admitted.  "My idea of a musician is
difficult to imagine, Kristen.  If you're with me, then it's
easy."

    "I'll be with you, Jim."

    I looked at the seriousness in Kristen's eyes.  "I know
you will.  Would you really like to live a musician's life?"

    Kristen shrugged.  "I'd be a musician's wife.  It's not
the same."

    "No," I said, shaking my head.  "You misunderstood me.
Would you like to live a *musician's* life?"

    "Me?  A musician?" Kristen laughed.

    She saw the serious look in my eyes.  "Yes, you."

    "Why?"

    "I've seen you play.  I've seen you help Amy.  You get
almost as much joy out of music as I do, and you put less
than a tenth of the effort that I do."

    "Me?" Kristen was completely taken by surprise.

    "You become a musician--a millionaire musician," I said,
smiling.  "I'll become one as well.  Together, we can
redefine music together."

    "The two of us?" Kristen said.

    From the look that Kristen gave me, it occurred to me
that she never even considered this option.

* * *

    I found one of my best male friends in the hallway the
next day.  "Roy?  I need help with a female singer."

    Roy looked at me strangely.  "The musical is over, the
concert is over.  Are you thinking of putting words to _Pomp
and Circumstance_?"

    I laughed at the suggestion, and tried to merge the words
"_Hooked on a Feeling_" to the processional to _Pomp_.  The
two of us laughed at that.  "Actually, I have somebody with a
wonderful voice, but it has never been trained."

    "How old?  Fourteen?"

    "Not Merry, and she's fifteen," I smiled.  "Eighteen."

    "Kristen?"

    I nodded.  Roy and I seemed to communicate a lot with few
words.

    Roy thought a few moments.  "Eighteen is old."

    "Not impossible, though," I said.

    "Didn't say that.  What's her range?  Alto?"

    "Don't classify her.  Let her find her own range."

    Roy nodded.  "She plays keyboards surprisingly well.  You
starting a group?"

    I laughed.  "Maybe eventually.  How long before we could
get something... interesting?"

    Roy shrugged.  "Have you told her your plans?"

    "Not exactly."

    It was Roy's turn to laugh.  "After you get out of the
hospital, Jim!"

* * *

    I was sitting in the music room.  It was the Monday
before the Senior Weekend.  Thursday evening would be the
Prom.  For the rest of the weekend, Kristen made her own
plans that involved us as well as Camille, Patty and Toby,
Wendy and Gerry, Roy and Jill, Jackie and a guy named Steve,
Lynette, Tiny and June.  Tiny and June were a surprising last
minute addition, and Lynette and Camille were both going stag.

    Mr. Proilet was in his "father" mood.

    "Jim, you can turn a bunch of musically challenged
students into the equivalent of a Broadway production."

    "You've told me that."

    "You cannot turn Kristen into the female Jim Crittenhouse
in a matter of weeks!"

    "I've got a couple of years..." I started.

    Mr. Proilet let out an audible sigh.  "Kristen is
talented.  Have you talked to her about singing?"

    "No," I admitted.  "I wanted to sound it out with Roy
and..."

    "That's not the way you do it, Jim, and you know it," my
teacher told me.  "You're not her Svengali!"

    "Her what?" I asked.

    "Look it up at the library.  Ask your friend Camille.
You're trying to turn her into Pygmalion... look that up,
too."

    "What are you saying?"

    "Why do you do all you do with music?" Mr. Proilet asked.

    "Because I love it."

    "Exactly!"

    "Exactly what?" I asked, confused.

    "If you force music on Kristen, it will turn her off.
What happens when somebody tries to force you to play a
stringed instrument?"

    I remembered a particularly obnoxious music teacher in
elementary school that thought that I should be a violin
virtuoso.

    Suddenly, I understood my teacher's worries.  "Am I doing
that?"

    "Sadly, yes," Mr. Proilet said.  "If you force her,
she'll resent it.  You'll be driving a wedge between the two
of you."

    I sighed.  "How do I do it, then?"

    "Slowly, and let her choose her own pace.  She's not you,
so don't use yourself as a benchmark.  Treat her the same way
as you treated that actor that played Harold Hill in the
musical.  Work with her, but don't push her.  Keep it fun,
and let her be herself."

    My teacher gave me more advice that day, but I realized
that I learned the important bits.

* * *

    At the senior prom, I danced to a lot of the songs with
Kristen.  As I listened to the group that was performing, I
was assessing their talents, spotting their weaknesses, and
thinking how slight changes could transform them from a band
that did proms to a band that could get the bigger venues.

    June Rodgers and Tiny Jonas found the two of us on the
dance floor, and June asked if we could switch partners.

    I smiled.  "Sure."

    I then took Tiny by the arms and started to dance with
him, which had the effect of reducing Kristen and June into
convulsions of laughter, among other people.

    We quickly switched so that I was with June, and Tiny was
with Kristen.

    June was a lovely cheerleader, and she was about three or
four inches smaller than Kristen.  She had a cute face, and
she was very light on her feet.  Dancing with June made me
feel that I was a much better dancer than I really was.

    I looked at Kristen and Tiny.  They were dancing close
together.  June saw where my attention was, and moved closer
to me and we slow danced together as well.

    After that song, it seemed that I was on a list as a
partner for each and every cheerleader present at the prom.
One after another, they took over, one dance at a time.

    When Lynette Robbins took her turn, I asked, "How come
I'm the focus of attention from the cheerleaders?"

    Lynette looked at me as if I was kidding her.  "You don't
know?"

    "No," I answered, seriously.

    "The cheerleaders never had as good a friend as you, Jim."

    Lynette said this so seriously that I was speechless.
Despite the fact the song the band was playing was a fast
number, she pulled her body close to mine, and I could feel
the warmth of her body through my clothes.

    After the end of the song, Camille started toward us, but
Lynette shot her a look, and continued dancing the next song
with me.

    The next song was a slower number, and Lynette was still
slow dancing with me.  Lynette moved her lips toward my ears
and whispered, "You are the most wonderful guy in school.
You refuse to take advantage of girls when given the
opportunity.  You also alerted Cammy about the best
cheerleader we've had.  You had a lot to do with getting rid
of that asshole Tim Hawking."

    I shrugged.  I knew that Lynette didn't know the entire
story about Tim Hawking.

    "You hang out with Cammy, but you don't really ogle the
cheerleaders.  In fact, you're the opposite of a cheerleader
groupie; you are a real friend.  We owe you a lot, and we
seniors will be saddened to know that we won't be around with
you the next couple of years."

    "Cammy said you and she have a thing for Kristen," I
said, trying to change the subject.

    Instead of looking shocked, Lynette simply nodded.
"Cammy and I swing both ways."

    I remembered my conversation with Will Swift last
Thanksgiving, and adapted one of his favorite sayings.  "That
means you have the capacity to love twice as many people as I
can."

    Lynette actually stopped dancing and stared at me.  She
didn't see me laughing at her.  After a few moments, she
started dancing with me again.  "You know, if I said that to
any other guy, they'd try to tell me how much they understand
while trying to get me to agree to a threesome with Cammy.
You didn't do that.  You really are amazing."

    I didn't mention that I have had many opportunities to
have a threesome with Cammy, but never took any.

    "I know a guy who also 'swings both ways,' as you put
it," I said.  "He's a really nice person.  If you were trying
to shock me, it didn't work."

    "You are very unusual," Lynette said.

    She then stopped dancing and gave me a long kiss in the
middle of the dance floor.  Her tongue was insistent and our
action was noticed by many people, including Kristen, who
mostly looked amused.

    "I'm looking forward to this weekend," Lynette said after
finally breaking the kiss.

    "So am I," I said, smiling.

* * *

    We were in one of a set of limos that Kristen hired
leaving the senior prom.

    I felt a little out of place.  Of all the people in our
group, Roy and I were the youngest by at least a year.  Of
course, being the boyfriend of the hostess for the rest of
the weekend gave me certain benefits of being the "host."

    Surprisingly, none of the guys treated me as a kid.  They
seemed quite interested in what I had to say, and spoke with
me about the kind of songs they liked (after all, popular
music was considered my specialty, and one people could
identify with).

    I think I earned my own badges over the past year.  After
all, I was known as "Oogie" to just about everybody in my
school.  Since the name referred to the song I dedicated to
the most wonderful girl in the world, I found that I had
little problem with it.

    Of course, my real friends called me Jim.  The big
exception was Kristen, who called me "Oogie" just about any
time the feeling hit her.  Did I have a problem with that?
Are you fucking kidding?

    Actually, the people who were part of Kristen's birthday
party started referring to me as "Oogie Woogie," the name
that Camille came up with before Kristen's birthday party.  I
thought of "Oogie Woogie" as a persona, and not as myself;
that showman who had no embarrassment when he stood at a
microphone and sang a very personal love song to the Goddess
of his dreams in front of strangers and even her parents.
The guy who could get his lover's mother to sing a song in
public after having left the field for almost twenty years.

    When Tiny wasn't with June, he was near me.  I think
other people bothered him.  He was known as an athlete, but
due to his skin color and other biases, he really never was
part of the "in crowd." He felt more comfortable with the
musical crowd, which readily accepted him once we found out
he was talented, and that crowd seemed to have no concept of
skin color or stupid stereotypes... at least, that described
most of the people who were part of my jazz band.

    Tiny seemed to think that he owed me a debt of gratitude.
I thought this was strange, since Tiny was the savior of
nearly every pretty girl in the school: Tim Hawking had all
the makings of a serial rapist with the scary benefit of
owning Lucky Tickets.

    I didn't know how to handle Tiny, except as an equal.  He
was nearly my equal on my favorite instrument, the trumpet.
I would even go so far as to say that he was better at coming
up with improvisational solos.  If I looked at him that way,
I could easily treat him as an equal.  The fact that June got
along with nearly everybody also helped out.

    We were going to a vacation villa on Lake Michigan that
had ten bedrooms, an equal number of bathrooms, lots of
living space, and a boathouse on a tributary that easily led
to the lake.  The boathouse contained a cabin cruiser and two
outboard power boats.

    When we arrived, the owner of the property showed us all
around, and gave everybody a half hour lesson on boating
safety.  During the summer, there was a roped in swimming
area that was accessible from the property, but the owner
pointed out that the temperature of the lake water was in the
forties, so lake swimming was probably not a good idea.
Luckily, there was a large heated pool that was currently in
an enclosure that would be perfect for the anticipated
weather.

    At the lake, the owner pointed out the buoys that
identified the deep waters necessary for reaching the Great
Lake.  We were also warned to stay out of the lake during bad
weather; it may be a lake, but it was a Great Lake and its
size made it dangerous when the weather turned.

    Although the owner knew that we were all on a senior
weekend, Kristen apparently dealt with him previously as was
made clear when he always called her by her first name.  She
paid a hefty security deposit for the long weekend we were
going to be there.  Even in the event of emergency, the owner
could be reached and at the property within minutes.

    At one time or another during the school year, I partied
with nearly everybody except June, and nobody seemed to be
heavy drinkers.  Even so, there were a couple of cases of
Budweiser when we unpacked.  By my reckoning, there would be
a bit more than three cans of beer for every person in our
group--a number I thought was a bit high, but Kristen assured
me that amount could be managed.

    Being one of the youngest people at the property, I had
the least knowledge of what to expect on a "senior weekend."

    Kristen and I got the master bedroom, and the others
picked rooms that were convenient.  People quickly changed
into bathing suits and about a half hour after the owner
left, we started to head down to the swimming pool.

    Outside the boathouse were a few canoes and a couple of
row boats, and some couples made plans to use the boats in
the future.  Kristen suggested that every couple that uses a
boat let Camille or her know so that there was an accounting
for all the equipment and people.

    I swam for about an hour and then moved out of the pool,
resting on one of the lounge chairs outside in the fresh air.
Tiny and June took out a row boat, and I could see him rowing
the two of them out toward the lake.  I watched as he dipped
the paddles expertly into the water.

    Kristen asked if I wanted to take one of the boats into
the lake, and I declined.  I was a bit water-logged and
wanted get back to the villa.  It was a warm day, about
seventy degrees, but the air still felt a bit chilly after
leaving the warm pool.  Camille seemed to feel the same way,
and the two of us went back into the villa.

    "This is a great change of pace," I said to Camille once
we were back in the house.

    "In what way?"

    "I've been doing music, music, music since the year
began.  Don't get me wrong... I love it!  This is just a
change of pace.  I don't have to write anything.  I don't
have to help somebody who is having problems... I don't even
have a fucking piano nearby.  You know?"

    "How did you get so old?" Camille asked.

    "Huh?" I asked.

    "You sound like a teacher, not a student," Camille said.
"We're supposed to be having the time of our lives.  We're in
high school.  Maybe we sweat a bit with homework and tests,
but this is supposed to be the time of our lives."

    "That's not how things are happening with me," I observed.

    "You have a lot of responsibilities.  Your jazz band, the
musical, tutoring Tiny and Toby.  And you are in fucking
tenth grade!"

    "Yeah," I said.  Actually, I didn't have any complaints,
but not having any particular responsibilities relieved a
burden that I hadn't even realized that I was carrying until
now.  "Wait until next year.  Everybody will expect me to top
this year."

    "That's a quick way to an early grave, Jim," Camille
said.  "My dad was like that.  Work, work, work.  A heart
attack on the job, and he's gone.  Poof!  Just like that."

    "I don't think..."

    "I'm not saying that you're heart attack material, Jim,"
Camille said, softly.  "I'm just saying that you don't need
to save the world.  The one thing I didn't mention before was
that on top of all those other responsibilities, you have to
deal with those tickets and assholes like Tim Hawking."

    I shrugged.

    Camille kissed me warmly.  "You're a knight in shining
armor, Jim."

    I didn't feel like a fucking knight, but with Camille
kissing me, I didn't feel like complaining.

    After we kissed, I decided to have a talk that I was
waiting to have with Camille for a while.

    "Have you written to your Valentine?" I asked.

    "You mean, Will?"

    "Yeah."

    I saw that Camille's eyes were unfocused as she thought
about Kristen's brother.  It was obvious that she still had
it bad for him.

    "What's the attraction?" I asked.

    Camille looked at me sharply.  "What do you mean?"

    "Cammy," I said, soothingly.  "I love Will.  He loves
Kristen and he seems to love me as well.  I have nothing
against him.  However, the moment the two of you laid eyes on
one another, it was as if Kristen and I were just a minor
inconvenience."

    "I feel... something... when I see him.  I still feel it
when I think about him."

    "What is it?"

    Camille looked at me, wondering if she could trust me.
She must have realized that she already entrusted quite a lot
in me already.  "I... can't say, but I see something in his
eyes.  It's mystical."

    This sounded like what Will told me.  I didn't laugh at
her.  Instead, I said, "He says I have a strange aura."

    "He doesn't recognize yours, although he saw it in
Debbie, and he now sees it a little bit in Kristen and me."

    "Debbie?  Your sister?"

    "Yeah," Camille said.  "Will met my sister, saw her aura,
and ran away.  He sees it around me, but differently."

    "This sounds so..."

    "I know, Jim," Camille said.  "If you don't see it, it's
difficult to understand it.  Will actually sees it.  What he
describes is strange, but you have to admit that there is no
explanation for your Lucky Tickets either, but they do exist.
I've learned to accept some weird things.  I can tell that
Will is serious when he tells me about his auras, and I
believe him.  He has no reason to lie to me."

    "I sort of feel that way as well," I admitted.  "Will
first told me about his auras when we were touring MIT.  I
felt it was a bit ironic, but I could tell he was serious."

    "Jim, when you see auras around people, you don't always
tell people about it.  Will trusts you quite a lot to tell
you.  I think he's only told Kristen, you, and me about them."

    "I know, but you didn't answer my question.  What's the
attraction between you and Will?"

    "All right," Camille said.  "Will is bisexual.  So am I."

    "And..." I said, prodding Camille.

    "Jim, you sleep with me a few times a week, right?"

    "Yes..."

    "And you love Kristen, wholly and totally."

    Of course, I thought.  "Uh, huh..."

    "And I love her as well."

    "I'll accept that."

    Camille raised her eyebrows.  "Interesting way to put it,
Jim."

    "Cammy, I have no way to know what's going on in your
mind.  You say you are in love with Kristen, and you act that
way.  I'll accept that."

    "You don't go any further?" Camille asked.

    "Will told me that as a bisexual, he loves everybody.  It
sounds wonderful, the way he puts it.  At the same time,
however, it sounds lonely.  He'll love anybody, which is not
the same thing.  He doesn't discriminate, which may be
considered something positive, but what if you don't
discriminate between a good person... such as Albert
Schweitzer, and a bad person... such as Adolph Hitler?"

    Camille considered my remarks.  It was a measure of how
much she valued my opinions, even when she disagreed with
them.

    "You point out an interesting trap, Jim."

    "I talked with Will for a while last Thanksgiving."

    Camille said, "What I was thinking is that Will fits a
part of me that nobody else does.  It's a part of me that he
fits perfectly.  At the same time, Kristen fits a different
part of me.  I could be with both and there would be no
overlap."

    "And how is that different when you are with Kristen and
me?"

    "You and Kristen fit, and Kristen and I fit," Camille
said.  "It's almost the same thing, but with her."

    "The way that you describe it, Camille, is that no two
people can possibly love one another a hundred percent."

    "Huh?"

    "You fit Kristen, I fit Kristen.  That's a hundred
percent between three people.  Will fits you, Kristen fits
you.  Another hundred percent between three people."

    "Yeah?" Camille looked confused.

    "Up until you came into our bed, Camille, I would have
sworn that Kristen fits me, one hundred percent.  I thought I
fit her the same way."

    "What changed?"

    "Love isn't either/or, Camille.  I can love Kristen one
hundred percent, and still love you.  You and I don't
actively make love with each other in bed, but that's because
we both don't know Kristen's feelings on the matter.  What if
Kristen asked you to fuck me?"

    "She won't!" Camille said.

    "You can predict Kristen like that?  Congratulations,
Cammy.  I've yet to be that sure of her myself.  She seems to
have a terrible jealous streak in her, but at the same time,
she already gave you and Patty permission when she came back
from Austria last winter.  Remember?"

    Camille didn't answer, but obviously remembered Kristen's
conversation with Patty and her.

    I continued.  "I don't think there's another guy that
will love her like me, even her brother.  She knows that.
She accepts you because there's no competition between us.
However, that day when you told me about the tickets on Lake
Shore Point, Kristen was angry and thought I might be
thinking of you romantically."

    Camille looked shocked.  "What?"

    "It didn't take much for me to reassure Kristen, but her
jealousy is still there.  Do you remember that terrible fight
that Kristen and I had last autumn?"

    "The one that Sherry helped you guys through?"

    "Yeah," I said.  "This is private, because it's between
Kristen and me, but I thought you might want to know.
Kristen sort of insinuated that she wanted me to sleep with
somebody else... make love to another girl.  I didn't want
to--the only girl for me was and is Kristen.  There was more
to that argument but that's really personal.  Anyway, she can
be jealous on the one hand, and want me to have sex with
another girl at the same time!"

    There was silence as Camille thought about what I just
said.

    "Anyway," I continued, "you love her differently.  I
can't read your mind, but I wouldn't be surprised if you
loved her a hundred percent.  I also love Kristen one hundred
percent.  You don't add them together, Camille."

    Camille shook her head.  "That can't be.  Anything I can
do with Kristen, you can also do, physically."

    "Bullshit, Cammy!  For a genius, you are sometimes
obtuse.  You connect with her emotionally.  You, Cammy, rule
your life by emotions: don't tell me any different!  You are
almost like Patty that way!"

    Camille didn't have any answer for that.

    "What if you had children, Cammy?"

    "Huh?" Camille looked at me strangely.

    "What if you had children?  What if you gave birth to a
girl and a boy?"

    Camille looked confused.  "What are you talking about?"

    "Pretend you're married and you have two or three
children."

    Camille decided to play along.  "All right."

    "You give birth to your first child.  You love it, right?"

    "Yeah."

    "You love it wholly and totally, because it's your child."

    "Right... Oh!  I get it!" Camille said.  "When my second
child is born, I'll love it just as much.  I don't love the
first any less.  Then the third one, and so on..."

    I smiled.  "You see, love isn't something you add."

    After a couple minutes of silence, Camille said, "So,
when did you get so fucking old?"

* * *

    My worries about the beer turned out to be partially
founded.  Tiny, a person who didn't drink, was a wonderful
device that kept belligerent behavior from happening.  He
managed to keep an obviously inebriated Steve, the date who
was with Camille's cousin, from driving one of the outboards.
Instead, he offered to act as the pilot as he and June drove
Jackie and Steve, who decided that it was much nicer to neck
in the front of the boat without having to worry about
piloting the boat.  They all came back happy after an hour.

    Friday at noon, Lynette got everybody together and
announced the first "Twelve Party." I was informed that this
was a tradition that she learned last year when she was at
the Senior Prom--her boyfriend was a senior then.  At noon
and at midnight, there would be a Twelve Party.  Lynette
asked each of the people at the party to write down who they
wanted to the first party's victim.  I didn't have any idea
what to expect, so I wrote Camille's name on my ballot.

    Lynnette collected all the ballots.  She read each one
out loud.  I got very nervous when I heard my name announced
twice, but before the end of the ballots were read, it was
obvious that Camille was going to have the majority of votes.

    "Where is the first Twelve Party taking place?" Camille
asked.  She apparently knew about this tradition, and didn't
seem to mind being the victim.  Nobody else seemed to have a
clue about the parties that Lynette announced, although from
Kristen's smile, I think she was briefed in advance.

    Lynette shrugged.  "The lake would be perfect, but it's
too cold.  Get into the middle of the deep end of the
swimming pool, under the diving board."

    Camille simply nodded and we all headed for the pool.
Neither Lynette nor Camille told anybody what was going to
happen, so I was quite curious.  At the pool, Camille simply
dove in and moved to where Lynette directed.  There were a
bunch of beach balls and other floating toys that Lynette had
inflated earlier that she now threw into the water near the
deep end.

    Lynette entered from the shallow end of the pool, and
swam to Camille.  The two girls kissed, and the beach balls
hid at least some of the activity between the two girls, but
it was obvious to everybody that Lynette was freely groping
Camille.

    All of us watched the two girls making out for about a
minute.  Although most of the action underneath was hidden,
it became obvious when Lynette swam away toward the ladder
that she now had possession of Camille's bathing suit!

    "OK, folks!  Camille is in the water for an hour.
Everybody is expected to kiss her during this period, and
there are no limits on the touching that you can do.
Remember, however, that touching her gives her permission to
touch back!  Now... everybody get into the pool!"

    I looked at Kristen, who shrugged.  She got into the
water, and was the first person to swim up to Camille.  The
two girls kissed passionately, giving everybody a display
that only I was privy to over the past couple of months.  As
with Lynette, a lot of the action was hidden underwater,
though.

    Kristen broke their kiss and turned to me and waved.  I,
much the same most of the others, was still staring at
Kristen's and Camille's wild kiss.  "Get in here, Oogie!"

    I jumped into the pool, careful to avoid the floating
balls, and I swam over to Camille.  The three of us pulled
together into a three way hug.  When I grabbed Kristen, I was
surprised when I noticed her bikini bottoms were lowered.

    Kristen reached into my bathing suit, and stroked my
erection, which was already hard.

    I rubbed Camille's breasts and reached down to her pussy.
A couple of weeks earlier, Kristen had dared Camille to shave
between her legs, and their sexual play afterward was so
intense that Camille kept herself shaved.  I also enjoyed
Camille's shaved snatch; it was a marked difference from when
I rubbed Kristen.

    I heard somebody swimming close by and saw Patty swimming
over with Toby, so I pulled Kristen away after pulling up her
bottoms to allow them access to Camille.

    Over the next hour, every couple went over to Camille at
one point or another, while others played catch with the
beach balls.  More than a couple of the balls found their way
out of the pool, but by that time, everybody knew that
Camille was naked.  All of the women kissed Camille briefly,
the exceptions being Kristen, Lynette, and Patty, all of whom
gave her longer and more personal kisses.  The males, of
course, were a bit less hesitant than their partners.

    Jackie seemed to be the most hesitant to kiss her cousin.
I wondered if it was because Camille was family, since I
heard that Jackie was a bit wilder than the way she was
acting during this trip.

    Most interesting of all was when June and Tiny kissed
Camille.  I was close by, sharing a hug with Kristen and I
saw Camille close her eyes when she kissed Tiny, but her eyes
shot open wide a few moments afterward.  She broke at the
kiss and stared at Tiny for a few moments, and then at June.
June laughed, and Tiny was smiling.  Camille laughed herself
and kissed Tiny again, and then June.

    I wondered what that was about.

    After the hour was up, Lynette swam over for a kiss
before handing Camille her bathing suit back.  I watched
Camille get dressed, and she kissed Lynette once again when
she was dressed.  Again, their kiss was extremely passionate.

    Camille broke the kiss and swam to the ladder.

    In her hands was Lynette's bathing suit!

    Everybody laughed at Lynette stranded in the middle of
the pool.

    Lynette simply shrugged, and came up the ladder herself,
apparently not worried about her nudity.  She found the table
where Camille threw her bathing suit and casually put it on
in front of everybody.

    Apparently, the Twelve Party had its intended effect.
People seemed much looser after that, and the couples were
more open with their kissing and cuddling of their partners,
although they rarely involved outsiders at this point.

    Camille found me and said, "You might want to get ready
for midnight."

    "Huh?"

    "Lynette, Patty, Toby, Kristen, and I are voting for you
tonight."

    I shrugged.  "Do the guys have to kiss me?" I asked.

    "Only if you insist.  Most guys shy away from that sort
of thing."

    "I'd be uncomfortable, although I'm not sure why," I
said.  "The girls don't seem to mind kissing one another."

    "You're just a guy," Camille said.  "You're not
Superman." She got a faraway look in her eyes.  "Tiny might
be Superman, though."

    "What was that all about with them before?" I asked.

    "I was surprised when I reached for Tiny's bathing suit.
I had heard that he was big, but I found that he was huge and
he wasn't even erect!"

    I laughed.  "It must be enormous if it impressed the
Great Camille!"

    Camille laughed at that.  "I would vote Tiny for tonight,
but he really seems shy about that.  I don't think he'd
handle it well."

    "Do you think I will?" I asked doubtfully.

    "You've played with other girls when you were with
Kristen.  I know you've done Patty and me," Camille said.  "A
few other girls rubbing you isn't going to bother you, nor
will Kristen get too possessive.  You were right before, she
does seem comfortable around you.  She's even comfortable
with me sharing the bed with the two of you.  Maybe she might
not like actual sex with you and one of the other girls, but
as you pointed out, she gave Patty and me permission."

    "Within reason, I think," I added, not wanting Camille to
get the wrong idea.  I looked at the pool and saw that there
were light fixtures underneath the water.  Camille noticed
what I was looking at, and said, "Tonight's in the hot tub,
Jim.  There's also a new rule for the midnight party that
you'll probably enjoy."

    "Oh?" I asked.

    Camille would tell me no more.

    For dinner, we ate hamburgers and hot dogs.

    Kristen and I went for a moonlight cruise in one of the
canoes.  We found that it's not particularly safe to fool
around in a canoe.  During one quickly aborted attempt, we
realized that a canoe was very prone to capsizing and decided
to wait until we got back from our ride.

    Kristen and I ended up in the master bedroom for a quick
sixty-nine at ten.  "I don't want all those other girls
getting your best," Kristen said.  She knew that I was going
to be the "victim" at midnight.

    Later on, we all were in the room that housed the hot tub
for the second Twelve Party.  Lynette took the ballots, and I
wasn't too surprised that I was selected as victim, but I
hadn't expected that it would be unanimous!  I voted for
myself because I hadn't wanted to upset Camille's plan, but I
hadn't known that everybody else was in on it as well.

    Lynette told Kristen to lead me into the hot tub.

    Kristen took my hand and we started toward the tub.

    "Wait," Lynette said.  "I forgot.  There's a special rule
for this party."

    "What is it?" I asked, remembering that Camille warned me
about this.

    "No bikinis allowed in the hot tub.  Only guys can wear
bathing suits--except the midnight victim, of course."

    I heard a couple of gasps at Lynette's new rule.

    "Let's make it more fun," Lynette said, grinning and
taking off her bikini as she was talking, "No bikinis at all
in this room!"

    Kristen was already undressing, and I saw more than one
guy checking out her marvelous charms.  When she was
finished, Kristen took me by the hand and the two of us
entered the hot tub.

    As soon as we entered the tub, Kristen untied my bathing
suit and helped me take it off.  She threw it to Camille, who
was naked by this time.

    Camille and Lynette were completely naked and looking at
the rest of the party.  "No bikinis, girls!" Lynette
repeated.  "And the price of entry into the hot tub is a kiss
from Jim.  You'll have to wait until Kristen is finished with
him... one at a time!"

    The couples seemed shocked.  The guys were bug-eyed,
looking at the ravishing bodies of Lynette and Camille, who
seemed to have no inhibitions at all with being nude with
over a dozen people in the room.  Camille glared at her
cousin, who started to fumble with her bathing suit.

    "Guys, why don't you help your dates?" Lynette suggested.

    All of the boys thought that this was a wonderful idea,
and after a minute, there wasn't a dressed female in the room.

    I didn't exactly witness this, since Kristen was sitting
directly on my cock.  She was actually fucking me in the hot
tub!  Her arms were around my neck.  After our kiss, Kristen
moved toward my ear and whispered, "If you kiss anybody other
than Camille this way, I will have your nuts in a jar on my
dresser."

    I was shocked by the way Kristen talked, and it took me a
moment to understand that she made an exception with Camille.

    Kristen wanted me to fuck Camille?

    I looked shocked at Kristen, who smiled.  "Camille's got
it bad for you, honey.  The two of us I have talked quite a
lot, and I promised to allow her full access to you, as long
as she doesn't steal you from me.  I explained to Camille
exactly what I'd do to each of her breasts, her pussy, and
her ass if that happens.  I think she'd rather fuck all the
horses on the Budweiser team than get me pissed.  Anyway, I
told her before that if she doesn't do it at this party, my
deal is off, so you should expect it to happen.  I don't want
you to refuse her because you think I'd be upset."

    Kristen was moving up and down on my cock as she said
that.  If I hadn't come in her mouth just a couple of hours
before, I might have shot into her at that moment.  My
girlfriend was making a gift of one of my closest friends!

    Kristen kissed me briefly again.  "Maybe Patty, too, but
not during this trip.  I don't think Toby would understand."

    Again, my jaw dropped, but Kristen disengaged herself
from me and swam away.  Kristen was actually going to let me
fuck other girls?  This sounded totally unlike the jealous
and protective Goddess I knew.

    June was the next one to get into the hot tub to get her
price of admission.  She came over to me quickly and kissed
me full on the lips.

    June's skin was chocolate-brown in color, and the center
of her breasts were quite dark--dark chocolate,
perhaps--making her nipples look like Hershey's kisses with
light pink tips.  I only saw her pubic hair briefly, but it
was dark and curly.

    June opened her mouth and stuck her tongue on my lips,
making me open and accept it.  She tasted sweet, and her body
was warm and inviting.

    "I'm sorry I didn't kiss you properly at Sherry's
initiation," I whispered to her.

    "You won't believe how unusual you were at that
initiation," June said, giggling.

    I considered June to be very conservative, since she
never attended parties.  However, her actions with me in the
hot tub belied her reputation.  She hugged me tightly as she
pushed her breasts into my body and continued kissing me for
a lot longer than was necessary for the "price of admission."
Nervously, I glanced at Tiny, who didn't seem to have a
problem with this--he was actually smiling!

    After we broke the kiss, June whispered to me.  "I need
to talk with you later."

    "No problem, June," I said.  "I owe you a lot for letting
me know that Tiny was a great trumpet player."

    June smiled at me.  She touched my erection, and it
jumped in her hand.  "Hmm," she moaned, but luckily she
didn't handle me too much.  I was a bit too shy to actually
touch her like that, knowing that Tiny was a friend, so I
didn't reciprocate except to kiss her once again.

    After a few moments, June swam away to let the next girl
get her turn.

    The next girl was Jill, one of the senior cheerleaders
that Camille and I hooked up with Roy for the prom.  "Thanks
for introducing me to Roy," Jill whispered before she kissed
me.  Her kiss wasn't too long, and she seemed nervous.  I
made sure that I didn't spook her, and didn't push my luck
with her--Roy was a very good friend of mine, and I would
hate to make him an enemy.  After our kiss, Jill whispered in
my ear.  "What are everybody whispering to you?"

    "They are saying, 'I'm just whispering to you to keep
Jill guessing!'"

    Jill laughed and swam away.

    Jackie was next, and she was followed by Wendy, whom I
hadn't seen nude since our outings in Kneely Park.  Wendy's
kiss was longer than Jackie and Jill's, and she also pressed
her enormous breasts into my body.  "It's been a long time,
Jim," Wendy whispered.  "I'm going to UCLA and I'll be
leaving for California in a few weeks, so this is going to be
a farewell."

    "It has been wonderful knowing you.  Is Gerry going to
California as well?"

    Wendy shook her head.  "He's going to be a rock musician.
I know what that kind of lifestyle entails.  We're still
going to be friends, but I think I need more stability in my
life."

    "I plan on being a musician as well," I pointed out.

    "You are going to marry Kristen.  Money won't be as much
of an issue for the two of you.  You can play as a hobby
and..."

    "No, Wendy," I said, gently.  "Music will never be just a
hobby to me."

    Wendy looked me in the eyes and then said, "I'm sorry.
You're right.  It will still be nice to have Kristen's
money..."

    I shook my head.  "I'd cut my heart out before I leech
Kristen's inheritance for my music.  I intend to make
beautiful music with Kristen.  If she wants to purchase a
house, that's fine.  But my living expenses will be the money
that Kristen and I earn as musicians."

    Wendy nodded again.  "You know, you could very well do
it."

    "My feelings aren't hurt, Wendy," I said.  "A lot of
people think that I see money bags when I see Kristen.  I
don't.  I see the most beautiful woman who ever walked the
planet--no offense to you, Wendy--and a person who loves me
as much as I love her, the most understanding woman that I've
met.  She's also the person who will make coming home
worthwhile to me."

    "A poet, too," Wendy sighed.

    Somebody behind Wendy cleared their throat.  Wendy
remembered the "admission line" that now had Patty at the
front.  "Sorry, Patty," Wendy said with a laugh as she moved
away.

    It was Patty's turn.  She stepped into the hot tub and
moved over to me and kissed me.  Her mouth was open, and our
tongues played together.  Our bodies were pressed tightly
together.  I knew every inch of her body from memory, from
the top of her red hair, to the toenails that always had
bright red nail polish on them.

    Patty's kiss was the longest so far, apart from
Kristen's.  It lasted so long, in fact, that Lynette said,
"Hey, you two... get a room!"

    The two of us started laughing and could no longer
maintain the kiss.  "It's been a long time, Jim," Patty said.
"I missed you."

    I remembered one of my favorite images of Patty, her red
hair splayed out on my lap as she was sucking me.  It was an
erotic memory that could get me hard every time that I
thought about it.  "I missed you, too."

    "I'll come back for more, later," Patty promised as she
swam away.

    Lynette, the head cheerleader, took the next turn.  She
gave me a wild kiss with her right hand stroking the erection
that Patty's kiss and my mental image had generated.  I
figured what was good for the goose was good for the gander,
and stroked between her legs.  It didn't take long for my
fingers to change Lynette's breathing until I was afraid that
she might have an orgasm in front of everybody.

    "You are one talented sixteen year old," Lynette breathed
after she broke the kiss.  "I can see why you have nearly
every cheerleader ready to jump into your bed at the
slightest nod from you."

    "You're exaggerating," I said, laughing.

    "No, I'm not," Lynette.  "I'm one of them.  I've asked
Kristen..."

    "Huh?" I asked.

    "If she and you would be amenable to a four-way with
Camille and me..."

    I stared at Lynette.  I knew she was wild, but what she
was suggesting was quite amazing.  I mean, how would you work
the logistics?

    Lynette said, "I know that Cammy told you that I've had a
thing for Kristen for years.  I'd be willing to do anything
for a chance to do her.  You know my reputation, Jim.  I mean
*anything*."

    "You've asked Kristen?" I said.  I knew that both Lynette
and Kristen had a relationship with Camille, but I didn't
know how public they made that knowledge.  I thought that
perhaps Kristen might be as comfortable with bisexuality as
her brother was, but I didn't want to be the one that
announced that to the world.

    Lynette nodded.  "I was quite specific in my request."

    "Then whatever Kristen says is my answer," I said.  I was
young, but I really didn't think I would have the stamina to
live up to what this weekend was shaping up to become.

    Camille followed Lynette, and she must have realized
Kristen's ultimatum, because without even asking me, she
impaled herself on my erection that Patty started and that
Lynette maintained.

    A couple of the girls were surprised by Camille's
forwardness, and they looked at Kristen to see if she would
do anything about this.  Kristen smiled at us, however.

    "Here's my kiss," Camille said, quite loudly.  She opened
her mouth before kissing me, making her intentions quite
obvious.

    During the kiss, I discovered that Camille and I were the
center of everybody's attention.  I finally broke away from
Camille's kiss.

    "If you're trying to make a point, Cammy, I think you've
succeeded," I whispered to her.

    "Lynette told me she talked to Kristen, and Kristen also
told me that if I don't fuck you as soon as I get into the
hot tub, I'd never have another opportunity.  With my
reputation, I have nothing to lose.  I think you're gaining a
reputation as well."

    I laughed.  Camille's pussy felt entirely different on me
than Kristen's.  Camille seemed to continuously change the
grip that her pussy muscles had on my shaft in a quite
wonderful way.

    With all the pent-up need from kissing all the females in
the hot tub, I was starting to get close.  I think that
Camille felt my rod thicken within her and she pushed herself
off me and then dove under the water, surprising me.

    Kristen moved over to me and kissed me when I felt
Camille's lips on my dick.  Her hand expertly jacked me off
into her mouth, and I shot my load into her.

    When I was spent, I heard Camille come up from underneath
the water, and she pulled Kristen away from me.  She gave
Kristen a deep kiss, and I knew that she was sharing my seed
with my Goddess.

    With the exception of Lynette and Patty, everybody looked
as though they were in shock.  Camille just fucked the host
of the party as the hostess looked on, and now she was
engaged in one very hot kiss with the hostess herself.  I
think only Patty knew what was being shared between the two
friends, and she gave me a secret smile.

    After the two girls broke the kiss, it was as if they
broke the ice for the entire party.  June came back over for
her repeat performance, as she requested, as did every girl
with the weird exception of Jackie.

    During one of my visits from June, she whispered to me.
"I just talked with Kristen.  Archy and I would like to spend
some private time with the two of you.  Kristen said it was
all right with her if you didn't object.  Archy has always
had a thing for blondes, but Camille and Lynette are a bit
wild for his tastes.  Also, if he plays with Kristen, then
I'll have somebody as well: you.  I never laughed my head off
so much as when I heard your sister sing that silly song at
the concert."

    "I'm glad I amuse you, June," I said.  "Are you sure?
I'm not sure that Kristen will agree with us going all the
way..."

    "I'm a virgin, Jim," June whispered.  "I plan to remain
one until Archy takes me on my wedding night.  Archy and I
are going to be each other's first.  I wasn't asking for us
to, you know..."

    "Oh, I misunderstood."

    "No problem, and I'm flattered," June smiled.  "Can I
tell you a secret?"

    "Sure, anything," I promised.

    "Archy thinks it was his idea.  I sort of put the idea
into his head."

    I giggled.  "You know, I don't have much of a reputation."

    "Neither do I," June admitted.

    "You're beautiful, June."

    "You're cute, too."

    "I'll tell you what, June.  Since Kris said yes, I'll
spend time with you.  All right?"

    June squirmed next to me, pressing her warm brown breasts
into my body.  "I'll make sure you won't regret it, Oogie!"

    Before the end of the party, Lynette got out of the hot
tub and made another announcement.  "There's one more rule
for this special Twelve Party," she said.  "Our victim must
receive a kiss from *everybody* without exception.  Anybody
that doesn't kiss Jim will be excluded from participating in
any of the remaining Twelve Parties.  If you are considering
that you don't want to participate, then I will promise you
that the next one will be even wilder than this one, and
you'll be very, very sorry!"

    The looks of shock on all the guys in the tub were
priceless.  I guess I might have looked shocked as well.  The
girls all giggled, and goaded their boyfriends to go ahead.

    The first boy to come over to me, surprisingly enough,
was Tiny.  He came over, careful to avoid my nude body, and
kissed me on the cheek.

    Tiny broke the floodgates.  He was huge, and there was no
way that anybody would ever call him homosexual--if they
wanted to live, that is.  Every other guy took their turn
with me, none of them taking any longer than was absolutely
necessary.

    Lynette grinned in satisfaction.  "All right, girls.  We
have a special present for the guy that gave the best
performance with the kissing.  I'll go by applause, and
people cannot vote for their dates.  Who here votes to say
that Jim gave the best kisses?"

    Lynette, an able leader of the cheerleaders, managed to
steer the vote quite handily.  All the cheerleaders voted for
me, as did Patty and Kristen, much to my surprise.

    Lynette handed a piece of paper to Kristen.  "Kristen,
please tell our lucky winner what he his prize is for winning
the Best Kiss award for the midnight Twelve Party!"

    Kristen giggled as she read Lynette's note.  "Jim, you
are the proud winner of a night of ecstasy with Lynette and
Camille.  Your girlfriend is also invited!"

    Just about everybody gasped at my award.

    I wondered when Lynette was going to claim her date with
Kristen, and found that she had made it very public.

    This was going to be one memorable weekend!

--
jimc_author@hotmail.com

JiMC is only a pseudonym.  Respect my privacy and I'll respect yours.

_________________________________________________________________
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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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