Cordelia’s bright smile tightened within the gentle caress of my kiss. I didn’t expect to find myself in a lip-lock with my good friend from the majorette squad of highschool band. I was the drum major. Cordelia marched behind me in parades. On the football field during halftime, she spun a sliver bar like a ninja warrior, weaving shiny metal through her fingers, lighting up the night with shiny reflections on the fifty-yard line.
There were instances during practice when I was almost hit by flying batons. Summer band practice was dangerous. While our band leader was working with the brass section and we had nothing to do but chase away swarms of gnats with the backs of our hands, we got to know each other as friends. I didn’t know she was physically attracted to me. She let me pretend I too was a majorette and she taught me to spin and catch the wand without looking.
Cordelia dated my brother Bill for about a year. I know they had sex. Bill told me. He dumped her when they entered their senior year. Being the younger brother of the first-string football quarterback, I caught Cordelia like most of the rebounds that my older brother dumped like spit being released from a valve on a brass trumpet.
A group of friends from band got together at Mark Fish’s uncle’s house near Orbisonia. His uncle had satellite television. Most in the close-nit group of musically gifted individuals obtained permission from parents to spend the night at Marks’ uncle’s house, deep in the woods, on the outskirts of the tiny Pennsylvania railroad town. We promised our parents there would be no drinking. We were all just a bunch of friends in band who wanted to experience the thrills of a sleeping bag party. Cordelia sat close to me on the back porch. The rest of the gang was inside watching porn stations which had yet to be scrambled from massive dishes that were used to capture what was at the time unlimited satellite broadcast signals from stations like Playboy.
Cordelia wanted to go home. Her mother did not grant her permission stay all night at Mark’s uncle’s house. She had to be home by midnight. I agreed to take her home at 11:30, after we finished discussing my Army plans and her goals of obtaining a degree in nursing.
Bad acne was our bond. We shared tips on getting rid of it and how awful it felt to have so much of it. Like me, Cordelia was really pretty under all the red and yellow markings.
“Do you want to come in for a while?” She asked when we arrived at her place in town. “My parents are in bed. It’s no big deal.”
“Sure.”
We got out of my green pinto. I walked to the passenger side where she was still standing. She didn’t ask to kiss me. She placed her lips on mine like a bassoon player devouring a reed . Her breath was fresh. What a nice kiss. I didn’t know I could get an erection thinking about or kissing a girl, but I did. It went right up, like a baton. She touched my penis and kissed me harder. I thought about Bill already being in her. In a sense, her whorish attitude turned me on. I touched her large breast just out of curiosity. Could this really be happening? Maybe I’m not really gay, I thought.
I couldn’t help it. She wouldn’t stop. It seemed as if I were a baton being twirled in the fingers of her loins.
