By the end of the semester, I learned I had beaten my previous SAT scores by a fair bit. My old 660 in reading/writing was now a 720. My old 680 in math was all the way up to 780. I still took this with a grain of salt. Hamilton was going to end up with a perfect 800 in both. Still, 1500 was a more than respectable number. When I mailed my packet back to RPI at the end of the semester, I was fairly sure I would be accepted early on.
At the end of the semester, just before the end of school, I took Jeana to the Junior/Senior Prom. This prom was held in the school gym, and was the only really formal dance held there. Mind you, things were much more formal at that time than they would be in the future, but it was still even more formal than usual. The Senior Prom required that you be a senior, although your guest could be younger than that. Generally a lot of senior guys had girlfriends who were juniors or even sophomores. (It was almost unheard of for a senior girl to be dating a junior or sophomore.) The Junior/Senior Prom was the same rules, but now included juniors, so I could attend and take Jeana as my date. The other rule was that juniors had to wear a tuxedo, but seniors didn’t. I think this was because they had to rent a tux for the Senior Prom already, and renting one twice would be too expensive.
Thankfully I looked actually fairly good in my tux, which spoke volumes about how my workouts and early morning runs had me in shape. Back when I did this previously, in high school and at my wedding, it was almost impossible to find a tuxedo that didn’t make me look like what I really was, impossibly skinny and wearing a too large rented suit. I skipped on the wacky colors some guys were getting, and simply went with basic black, although I did manage to find one with a vest and not a cummerbund. What a useless piece of clothing!
It didn’t matter in the long run, though, since nobody would be looking at me, and everyone would be looking at Jeana. She had piled that long brown hair up on top of her head, leaving her neck and shoulders bare, and looked like a goddess. She had on a long green gown, tight through the bodice and hips, but flowing around her legs, with a halter top. She looked amazing! What in the world this girl was doing hanging around with me was something I continued to ask myself, and I never came up with a decent answer. I just thanked God she saw something in me that I didn’t see.
When we left her house that night, Jeana informed me that her mother had lifted her curfew. As long as she got home before dawn, nobody was going to say a word. She had told her parents that there was going to be a major party after the dance, which didn’t get out until midnight in any case, and they relented.
“So does that mean you are planning on leaving the prom early, and skipping the party?” I asked teasingly.
“No on One, yes on Two,” she replied. I eyed her and she smiled. “If you knew the trouble it took to get my hair up like this, you wouldn’t ask.”
“You look so beautiful, I don’t know if I’ll be able to wait until then. What if we’re dancing and I get a sudden urge right out there on the dance floor?”
She laughed. “Remember that thing I do for you sometimes?” She held a hand up and curled her fingers, then moved it in a pumping fashion. “You’ll just have to head off to the bathroom and take care of that urge yourself.”
“That’s cold, lady, cold!” I protested.
“On the other hand, if you behave yourself, you’re going to get a very nice surprise later on.”
“What?”
She shook her head. “It’s a surprise, remember?”
Jeana looked spectacular that night. Oh, sure, there were more than a few girls there who looked spectacular. It was, after all, a prom, and they really tend to go all out for that sort of event. Still, I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. A lot of guys thought so as well, and Jeana basked in the attention she got. It took all my willpower not to hustle her out of there until the end of the dance, although I made sure I informed her how strong the urge was. She took pity on me about halfway through the last set, and we left early. Fortunately, it being June, it was warm and neither of us needed coats. We headed back to my apartment, getting there a few minutes before midnight.
“When do I get my surprise?” I asked.
Jeana wagged a finger at me. “Don’t be so hasty. Maybe if we had a glass of wine first?”
I think I broke a new land speed record opening up a bottle of Pouilly Fuisse. I poured a pair of glasses and toasted her. “To the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
“And to the equally handsome man who took me dancing,” she replied. We sipped our wine, and I eyed her expectantly. “What’s on television?” she asked coyly.
It was my turn to wag a finger at her. “If we have to watch TV, I’m taking your Pouilly Fuisse and giving you Ripple!”
She smiled at me over her glass. “Well, this is too nice for that. Would you hold my glass for a moment? Thank you.” I took her glass, and she reached behind her back, and I heard the zipper on the dress come down. Then, as she stood there and smiled at me silently, she undid the clasp on the halter top. Her gown slipped to the floor pooling around her feet. My heart almost stopped, seeing her standing there. I knew she had to have been without a bra, since the halter top pretty much precluded that. What I hadn’t expected was that Jeana was wearing sheer stockings, and not pantyhose, and that she had skipped on the panties. Now she simply stood there in her stockings and three inch heels, and calmly sipped wine with me.
“Oh my God!” I exclaimed. Suddenly my mouth was dry and I felt a flush hit my face.
“I’m not overdressed am I?” she asked with a smirk.
“No, the look is perfect for you.” I cleared my throat. “Uh, would you mind if I took off my jacket?” And everything else?!
Jeana sat down and settled back against one arm of the couch. I didn’t strip down completely, but I did kick off my shoes and took off the jacket and vest and bow tie. “I have to tell you, honey, the gown was gorgeous, but this definitely is better.”
She laughed. “I thought you might like it!”
“Oh?”
“I’ve seen your Playboy magazines. I know what guys like.”
I blushed at that. Now that I was living on my own, with a PO Box as an address, I could get Playboy delivered to me. I was too young to be able to buy it in a store. High heels, stockings, and a smile were perennial favorites. Jeana had seen it every once in a while on an end table, but I never knew she had actually looked through it. “Hey, I read it for the articles.”
“So I should get dressed again?”
“I don’t only read it for the articles.” I finished my glass of wine and set it down and moved closer to Jeana. She simply smiled, finished her glass, and set it aside herself. She made short order of my remaining clothing, and then we made love right there on the couch, with her arms wrapped around my neck, and those unbelievable stocking clad legs wrapped around my waist, and her heels urging me on from time to time.
Afterwards, we went into the bedroom. I pulled her hair loose, but kept her stockings and heels on, and she got on top for the next go, and then we did our final set missionary position again. It was the most incredible way to finish the school year.
Chapter 21: Senior Year
Tuesday, November 7, 1972
It was about halfway through the fall semester of my senior year. All sorts of things were going on. Today was the day Tricky Dick was reelected President of these United States. The man was a seriously flawed but seriously underestimated man. Nixon probably had the finest mind for foreign policy of any President since the end of the Second World War. He also, very surprisingly considering he was a hard core Republican, signed into law a plethora of domestic regulation legislation, including the Clean Air Act, the EPA, the war on cancer, and the Title IX reforms that increased women’s presence in sports, all of which his future Republican successors would blame on the Democrats as socialism. He was also incredibly paranoid and committed any number of crimes as the President. Angel or demon? I’ve been following politics since his time and I still don’t have the answer. He was certainly no worse than some of the buffoons who followed him.