Party On

Be forewarned, this entry contains words of a sexually explicit nature. If such things offend you, I advise against reading it.

Twenty-two years after the fact, I am trying to reconstruct just exactly what happened, how it happened, and precisely when did it happen. I am relying solely on tidbits of memory which sporadically appear and disappear. Basically, this is an almost impossible task.

I don’t recall how Wendy Isaacson and I ended up together, but I do remember that we were together for several months during my senior year in high school. She was the definitive “cute” girl. She had a cute little smile, complete with well-positioned dimples. When she moved, she seemed to bounce more than walk. She reminded me of a cute little puppy. But that is where the comparison with a dog ended. You see, Wendy was anything but a dog. She exuded great sexiness, even at the young age of 16. I imagine that she could get just about anything she wanted from a guy, just by looking at him with those bedroom eyes of hers.

This was at the height of my partying period. Wendy was somewhat dragged into all of it by me. I know that she had smoked marijuana before she met me, but she hadn’t tried LSD. That was something I pushed upon her. I didn’t actually force it upon her, but peer pressure being what it was back then I might as well have. It seemed that everyone was caving in to peer pressure and I was definitely Wendy’s number one peer. I fear that her experience with me was far more damaging than it was beneficial.

Wendy and I never had sex, but it wasn’t for the lack of trying. One particular night, we came close. What transpired was quite embarrassing. We were at a small party held at my friend Jeff Apgood’s house while his parents were out of town for the weekend. I felt that this would be the night that we would finally do it. And we would have, had I not drank so much alcohol. Yes, it did give me the “liquid courage” I needed to push Wendy to the next level of our relationship, but it also prohibited me from, well, following through.

The party had winded down and Wendy and I were left alone in the back of Jeff’s house, on his parents’ trampoline. I had drank a lot of alcohol, but it hadn’t quite hit me yet. Forgetting about the boozin’ I’d done before, I was into the schmoozin’ I was doin’ then. Slowly, the alcohol began to creep up on me. I knew I had to act quick. I literally carried Wendy in my arms into the house and into the Apgoods’ master bedroom, forgetting about the lit cigarette I left on the trampoline.

Once inside the bedroom, we were at each other like cats in heat. Clothes were off in no time and a short session of foreplay took place. I went down on Wendy in the Apgoods’ bed. It was like manna from heaven! It may sound vulgar, but I’m being honest when I admit that I can never forget how she tasted. It was sweeter than honey. A few years later, Cindy Ladle’s sweetness topped Wendy’s offerings and remains number one to this day.

It may sound strange, but my friends and I never talked about when and if we had sex with girls. That is chiefly due to the fact that we were raised in a Mormon community where such things are taboo. Even though it wasn’t talked about, I felt certain that some of my friends in high school were having sex. Consequently, I wanted to have sex, too. Being a virgin at that age was more of a hindrance to me than an achievement. I was ready to do it with Wendy and it was all looking like it would happen – until the alcohol kicked in, that is.

Wendy wouldn’t reciprocate on the oral sex, for some reason. Maybe she didn’t know how. But, she did use her hands to try and get me ready for the big event. Normally, a strapping young lad such as I was would have no trouble rising to the occasion, but the alcohol deadened all feeling I had to the area of importance that evening. Simply put, I couldn’t perform. So, we called it a night.

The next day was filled with regret. I regretted getting so drunk. I regretted burning a hole in the Apgood’s trampoline with a cigarette after I had gotten so drunk. I regretted not having had sex with Wendy after I had gotten so drunk. I vowed never to drink again. Of course, that only lasted until the next time the opportunity to drink came around. Then, I was back at it, belting them down like there was no tomorrow.

Oh, what time has taught me! Years later, I just regret having been in that situation entirely. I now try to teach teenagers to steer clear from finding themselves in a similar situation. It isn’t worth the time or energy. There are much better, more fulfilling things, to do with one’s life.

Wendy and I broke up for a brief period following that embarrassing night. I wrote a poem for her during the breakup, which I subsequently turned into a song. It is one of several songs I still sing and play on my guitar from time to time. I almost begged Wendy to get back together with me, until she relented. However, our relationship was never quite as good afterwards. Because I couldn’t “quench her fire” she was always on the lookout for better prospects from that time forward.

Young and quite impressionable, it was easy for her to drift away from me completely. I didn’t see it coming. She was wooed by a virtual stranger during a weekend visit to her aunt’s house in Malad, Idaho. I remember some details of the episode. Though not particularly noteworthy, they might come in handy in the big spectrum of things.

Matt Jamison was the boyfriend of Wendy’s best friend, Valerie “Oh my gaaawd!” Fox. Because of this, he ended up spending some time with me. We weren’t two peas in a pod by any means. It was simply a necessity that we bond as friends in order to continue being boyfriends of Wendy and Val.

The girls had left on a spur-of-the-moment trip to Idaho and Matt and I were left with nothing to do, as we had been spending most of our time with them. So, we decided to follow in pursuit of them. I remember buying two-for-one packs of Camel non-filter cigarettes on the way up there. They were quite harsh and I never smoked that brand nor any other non-filter cigarettes again. However, because we thought we had received such a bargain at that time, the two-for-one sale, we forced ourselves to smoke them all.
Upon reaching Malad and finding the house of Wendy’s aunt, way out in the middle of nowhere, we discovered that the girls were not there. Her aunt told us that they had left for Lava Hot Springs. So, we drove there, nearly an hour away from Malad. After arriving there, we looked all over for the girls. They were nowhere to be found. So, we returned to Malad.

Approaching her aunt’s house again, I saw Wendy coming out of the front door. She saw us and smiled. Then she ran up to my car and leaned inside, giving me a kiss. Little did I know that it would be the last kiss I would ever get from her. Valerie came out of the house and had the same reaction to Matt as Wendy had to me. (It wasn’t to be his last kiss from her.) The girls told us that they had found a great swimming hole nearby. I believe it was in Crowther Reservoir, though I could be mistaken. We went there.

Upon reaching the swimming hole, Val and Wendy ran toward the water. They stopped by the water’s edge and took off all their clothes. Once completely naked, they turned toward Matt and me and posed as if we were taking pictures of them. I had been skinny dipping before with Wendy, at Company Pond in Kaysville, but I had never seen Valerie naked. I was quite impressed. “You are a lucky man,” I said to Matt. We joined the girls in the water.

After spending about an hour in the water and smoking some pot that Wendy had “scored” from some locals, we returned to her aunt’s house. As soon as we had arrived, there was a phone call for Wendy. It was from the locals she had befriended earlier that day. They were having a party and they wanted to know if Val and Wendy wanted to come. Wendy told me this, putting her hand over the mouthpiece, and said it might be a good way to get some more dope. Being all for “more dope”, Matt and I heartily agreed. Wendy said that she and Val would be right over.

With assurance that they would leave the party as soon as they could get some drugs, Wendy and Val took off. Matt and I waited at the house. We waited and waited. Then, we waited some more. Eventually, we grew very tired. Wendy’s aunt showed us to the bedrooms and we fell asleep. I have no idea what time it was when Wendy and Val returned, but it was very late. Wendy quietly came into the bedroom and, leaning down to my ear, whispered that she was going out again. “What!?” I asked incredulously. Apparently, she had only returned to get some clothes to change into. Without a word, she was gone again. From the muffled noises in the bedroom next to the one I was in, I gathered that Val had stayed. I forced myself to fall back asleep again, harboring great animosity toward Wendy.

In the morning, Matt and I headed for my car to return to Kaysville. Val kissed Matt goodbye and said she would call him later. As we backed out of the driveway, Wendy pulled up with some boys in a, as I recall, in a big black sedan. (It may not have been a big black sedan. My recollection of the events, being such a bad experience, may have tainted what the actual vehicle was. It was probably more like a GMC pickup truck, given the surroundings. But, I still see a big black sedan in my mind.)

Wendy ran toward my car. As she did, I rolled up the window. She knocked on the window, but I ignored her and looked back as we drove out of the driveway. Then, I put the car and drive and, without a glance toward Wendy, drove away. We returned to Kaysville, about an hour and a half drive. I don’t remember what was said along the way, but Matt probably said some derogatory comments about Wendy, as boys say about girls when their friends break up with them.

Surprisingly, my relationship didn’t totally end with Wendy that day. We remained friends and she frequented the parties that I did. She was considered part of our inner circle. Matt, on the other hand, eventually broke up with Valerie and found other friends to hang out with. I did receive a confirmation that she had a one-nighter with one of the locals that evening, thus justifying my actions. Regardless, what seemed so serious then is rather quite silly now. So much time and energy wasted!

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