Suzanne with a perfect, blue-white, three-carat Marquise cut diamond engagement ring, purchased from his uncle, Jerome, who, thank God, was in the business and got him a terrific price, because someday when Gordon was a specialist and Uncle Jerome was old, Gordon would take care of him and there would be no charge. Uncle Jerome never thought to ask about Gordon’s future plans. Maybe if he had he wouldn’t have been so generous. On the other hand there was Aunt Fanny and her hysterectomy to consider.
Myra let Sandy try on her ring and from that moment on Sandy’s goal in life was to become engaged.
T HEY’D BEEN BACK from Jamaica for two weeks when Sandy bought a pictorial sexual encyclopedia. “I have an idea,” she said to Norman. “Let’s do it every night for a week.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, and a different position everytime.”
“Starting when?”
“Tonight?”
“You’ve got yourself a deal!”
But when she tried to explore his body he tensed. “No, not there,” he said, when her hands touched the soft patches of hair under his arms. “I don’t like to be touched there.”
“Oh, sorry.” She kissed his neck, then made her way down to his chest.
“No,” he said, squirming, as her fingers rested on his nipples. He took her hands in his. “What do you think I am, a fag?”
“I’m just exploring,” Sandy said, “like the book says.”
“To hell with the book!”
She had planned to work her way down to his feet, where she would bite and kiss his toes, and then, hopefully, he would follow her lead and do to her all the lovely things she had done to him. He would lick her nipples, round and round, and kiss her inner thighs until she was wet, until she had to have him; and only then would he enter her, long and stiff and they would move together for hours, maybe all night.
But she could see now that there was no point in going on. It wasn’t going to work. She might as well get on with the different position. She climbed on top of him.
“What are you doing?”
“Let’s try it this way.”
“No, not with you on top.”
“It’s a very common position, Norm . . .”
“For dykes, for women’s libbers who want to take over.”
“No, it has nothing to do with that. It’s supposed to feel good this way . . .”
“I’m the man in this family. I get on top.”
“That’s silly, Norm, it has nothing to do with being the man.”
But he was on top of her now, pushing into her. “You’re my wife, not some whore.”
“I could pretend to be a whore, just for fun.”
He pushed harder. “You’re my wife . . . there, there . . .” he said, coming into her.
Every night for a week, proving that he was the man.
Every night for a week, and Sandy was sore.
So much for her New Year’s resolutions.
N ORMAN JOINED T HE C LUB in early February and was promptly asked to serve as chairman of the Grievance Committee. “That’s some honor for a new member!” Myra told Sandy. “You should be very proud.”
“Oh, I am. Anything that makes Norm happy.”
And he was
very
happy. His enthusiasm for The Club carried over to the children. “Can I learn to play golf?” Bucky asked.
“Of course, there’s a practice range and a putting green and you can take lessons this spring.”
“What about me, Daddy?” Jen asked. “Can I take lessons too?”
“Certainly, Princess.”
“What about Mommy?” Jen and Bucky looked at her.
Sandy shook her head but Norman said, “Mommy’s going to learn to play golf and tennis too.”
“Come on, Norm . . . don’t tell them that . . . you know it’s not my thing.”
But for her birthday Norman gave her a set of matched clubs in a lemon yellow bag, brown and white golf shoes, reminiscent of her beloved junior high saddles, and a dozen pairs of peds with different color trim.
And for Mother’s Day he presented her with a Davis Classic racquet, Tretorn tennis shoes, two Head outfits, a tennis sweater, and three
Myra let Sandy try on her ring and from that moment on Sandy’s goal in life was to become engaged.
T HEY’D BEEN BACK from Jamaica for two weeks when Sandy bought a pictorial sexual encyclopedia. “I have an idea,” she said to Norman. “Let’s do it every night for a week.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, and a different position everytime.”
“Starting when?”
“Tonight?”
“You’ve got yourself a deal!”
But when she tried to explore his body he tensed. “No, not there,” he said, when her hands touched the soft patches of hair under his arms. “I don’t like to be touched there.”
“Oh, sorry.” She kissed his neck, then made her way down to his chest.
“No,” he said, squirming, as her fingers rested on his nipples. He took her hands in his. “What do you think I am, a fag?”
“I’m just exploring,” Sandy said, “like the book says.”
“To hell with the book!”
She had planned to work her way down to his feet, where she would bite and kiss his toes, and then, hopefully, he would follow her lead and do to her all the lovely things she had done to him. He would lick her nipples, round and round, and kiss her inner thighs until she was wet, until she had to have him; and only then would he enter her, long and stiff and they would move together for hours, maybe all night.
But she could see now that there was no point in going on. It wasn’t going to work. She might as well get on with the different position. She climbed on top of him.
“What are you doing?”
“Let’s try it this way.”
“No, not with you on top.”
“It’s a very common position, Norm . . .”
“For dykes, for women’s libbers who want to take over.”
“No, it has nothing to do with that. It’s supposed to feel good this way . . .”
“I’m the man in this family. I get on top.”
“That’s silly, Norm, it has nothing to do with being the man.”
But he was on top of her now, pushing into her. “You’re my wife, not some whore.”
“I could pretend to be a whore, just for fun.”
He pushed harder. “You’re my wife . . . there, there . . .” he said, coming into her.
Every night for a week, proving that he was the man.
Every night for a week, and Sandy was sore.
So much for her New Year’s resolutions.
N ORMAN JOINED T HE C LUB in early February and was promptly asked to serve as chairman of the Grievance Committee. “That’s some honor for a new member!” Myra told Sandy. “You should be very proud.”
“Oh, I am. Anything that makes Norm happy.”
And he was
very
happy. His enthusiasm for The Club carried over to the children. “Can I learn to play golf?” Bucky asked.
“Of course, there’s a practice range and a putting green and you can take lessons this spring.”
“What about me, Daddy?” Jen asked. “Can I take lessons too?”
“Certainly, Princess.”
“What about Mommy?” Jen and Bucky looked at her.
Sandy shook her head but Norman said, “Mommy’s going to learn to play golf and tennis too.”
“Come on, Norm . . . don’t tell them that . . . you know it’s not my thing.”
But for her birthday Norman gave her a set of matched clubs in a lemon yellow bag, brown and white golf shoes, reminiscent of her beloved junior high saddles, and a dozen pairs of peds with different color trim.
And for Mother’s Day he presented her with a Davis Classic racquet, Tretorn tennis shoes, two Head outfits, a tennis sweater, and three
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