Sloppy Seconds

By Bob Benson

A teen sex story without the teens or the gratuitous pool scene. A coming of age story now worrying about the expiration date more than the legal age. A once in a lifetime chance to make a second impression on your first loves.

A Professor at a community college, a failed writer, a love refugee, 53 year old Dr. Tom Dawson gets a second chance at the dream. Would it even matter? This time even the cops would be called. Things and people change. It could be a sex comedy with a few shades of gray. It could just be a wild interlude preceding a boring retirement.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 21, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483655949

Book preview

1

The cities that rule the business world began each day with thousands of corporate zombies. It is Dr. Tom Dawson’s early day to walk or ride among them. He rides on the few metro trains into Big D (Dallas for the uninitiated) to teach the dreaded 8:00 AM class. The scariest part for him is that it wasn’t a real college but a booming and much needed community college. It might be his academic graveyard as he has taught there for 18 years.

And he is still teaching the same course; the required English freshman section that was the scourge of both students and PHD faculty like him. The students may look up to him-if only because some Nazi required this course—because they needed to pass with a C or better. His peers would label this class and a 53 year old faculty member as a badge of shame. Badges? We don’t need no stinking badges. In all academia it was known that Dr. Tom wore that badge. But many—who didn’t know the college hierarchy—his professor title still had some luster around the ‘regular’ folks he hung out with.

This was another Thursday. The Metro was packed. The sun was about to wake but most on the train were silent almost dead to the world as if trying to enjoy another brief respite before the day ahead. They should be smiling as they were avoiding the hell that was known as drive time traffic. Tom knew that soon these associates to the titans of commerce would be revving their mental motors and help drive the economic monster engine that Texas had become.

He also knew he would be in the land of living dead this morning presenting academic lullabies to students—the bulk of whom—couldn’t get into the state’s supposed higher tier universities. He also knew that many of his students were working, had children—often without a current parent around—and should really inspire him. A few did but the bulk were copy and paste kids trying to do as little as they could to get out. Tom was now down to his Hail Mary long germinating novel for his chance to get out.

It was not looking good for the home team on the literary front but at least he was at least respectably employed in the eyes of the world. He was sure that almost everyone on this train was making more money than he was. He used to try and dress like he was. He had long since given that up as an old sports jacket sans tie and a pair of jeans would suffice. Academic cool! He always stressed in his conversations with others that he got 9 weeks of vacation a year.

Today’s full car had some young ‘meat’ for his breakfast lust. They were too young but for this early there were no age restrictions. He tucked in his gut as he gazed. It would be, alas, unrequited as today the babes that were awake had electronic or technological reasons not to notice their surroundings or perverts.

Girl #1 was a 20 something wanna be something hotter. She was wearing a dress while seated but seemed to be in love with her Iphone. Tom wondered how a phone could make her smile as she scrolled through her messages. She was so thin, so vibrant, and even with fashionable and expensive eye glasses on—desirable. He knew that contacts would come on when she got to work and soon Lasik surgery and she could have any guy she wanted or needed for career management. She took a sip of her energy drink between postings. Tom made a mental note perhaps those drinks do work.

She failed to notice that he was noticing perhaps because everyone else in the car was so dead to the world. Some were sleeping with their eyes closed and some sleeping with their eyes open. Few seemed happy. Fewer still were actually trying or pretending to read the over sized pages of the Dallas Morning News Tom had given that up 5 years ago as no one wanting to be hip and noticed would be reading a hard messy copy or a newspaper. He checked his coat pockets and was assured he didn’t forget his Kindle. Silently like a thief in the night he knew his on-line New York Times was waiting for him. Today, though there were some pleasant distractions and the worlds gloominess would have to wait.

He did need a pick me up. It used to be Mountain Dew until the sugar and calories left a permanent reef around his waist. A female friend once told him that years of caffeine and sugar dosages would shrink the old penis. Dew be damned as he would sometime, he hoped, still need the old thing and any more shrinkage could make a joke a laughing joke. Then it was coffee until too many spills had ruined and hurt various parts of his mid section. He was too cheap for the energy drinks but had his bottled water. It seemed too early for that.

This vision of an angel of the morning was standing with the badge of Contemporary coolness. She was chilling with her IP0D. She was thin and wearing tight pants and a blouse that was open to the notice of peepers but to the limit of corporate dress code. She had her eyes closed and he wished he had her playlist but was moving and’ a grooving’ to whatever wonderful tune floated her boat. Even a few zombies noticed. Tom crudely tried to style his hair with his hands and then stood up and motioned her to take his seat. A gentleman he was even if his motives weren’t.

She was unaware of his courtesy. Her tunes beat to a higher beat. Tom smiled at her and motioned again but second verse was same as first. An old guy—who with his cane and dirty dress might have been mistaken for the working poor—did notice. He hobbled into the vacated seat.

Don’t mind if I do, he said with a slight smile that indicated his interloping. She probably sits all day anyway.

Tom knew the locker room rejoinder would be to say she could sit on his face or lap anytime. He resisted the urge and gave the urban hobo an evil glance. Didn’t matter as miss morning dream was blissfully unaware of both of them. Tom’s fake courtesy was wasted.

I wanna work where she does, said the old freeloading sodbuster.

Tom could only nod and smile and then stand through the rest of the trip.

I wanna play where she does, Tom said louder than normal knowing that she couldn’t hear him. Nonetheless he did look. She did not.

Shit, you’ve gotta know your age restrictions young man.

Tom smiled as he didn’t get the young man label much if all anymore.

It was not only age but social ineptness that had cursed his life since college. Like so many ‘50 something’ Monday morning quarterbacks he was aware that in hindsight he had lost many big games often because he didn’t even try to get into the game. His biggest disappointments were not dropping the big pass or missing the winning kick but not even getting on the field.

It was 1978 and he was back in college at dusty old Texas Tech University in Lubbock, Texas and an English major. He knows that some will scoff that he wasn’t at the University of Texas, in everyone in this state’s nirvana, Austin. He felt he should be but somehow his high school academic dominance-was not, his lack of money limited a lot and a better high school conspired against him. UT didn’t accept him. Tech was not a bad fall back but it was a far rustic outpost from growing up in Houston.

Lubbock may have been if not the end of the world at least you could see if from here. His parents and others told him Tech was a good school. He was told from even remote west Texas anything was possible. It was except for Sally Post.

His roommate—first at the dorm and then by choice at off site locations—was John Logan. John—the supposed heir—to a chain of 24 local hardware stores in Texas was in school to legitimatize his eventual coronation as CEO of his old man’s life’s work. He got into Tech as a legacy student because of his old man’s money and alumni status.

John would major in business when it was convenient and have fun and make contacts the rest of the time. He was a fun, jovial, networking fool who always had a smile. He also hooked up with Sally Post.

She was an ash blonde like they only grow in west Texas with a body that would make a cactus blush and a smile that would make Tom’s heart pickle. John and Sally were inseparable their last year in college. Tom was also in love with her but from the sidelines. A terrible place to be so close he could enjoy her presence but so far he could or would not ever play in the game. It seemed like a flag should be called for a personal foul as John didn’t even seem to recognize that he had won at love: game, set, match.

She had a beauty that seemed effortless and a body that should be worshiped in a temple not occasionally in a messy guy apartment. Tom spent so much time in the library anyway he was not aware of how often that communion took place.

Unlike many guys John did not brag much about his good fortune in love or in life. Tom always noticed they were smiling when they were together but a few times they were in the next room the volume of their sexual enthusiasm seemed muted. Perhaps it was in deference to him. He hoped otherwise.

It was a Friday night and Tom knew that John and Sally were going to some frat party. For John legacy had it’s’ perks. Tom felt the consolation prize was it would be quiet and a good night to do some assigned short story reading for one of his lit classes. Tom had a bottle of beer in hand and had just settled down on the couch when Sally and a friend exited John’s Bedroom.

Sally was a Greek goddess on this night literally. She was wearing what looked like a bed sheet wrapped around her. If there was a God, Tom thought, it would have been skimpier and tighter. He wondered if she was wearing any underwear. The garment was, alas, held in place by a big belt with fake gold stones. Sally added a flower for her hair and was wearing some sort of garland around her neck.

Her friend’s presence was puzzling as she was wearing a black 1978 t-shirt and some old cut off, ragged shorts. Not stylish but cheap looking. She was also very thin with white complexion that telegraphed she didn’t get out in the sun much. She was wearing no make-up and just didn’t seem like the type of Suzie sorority girl usually in Sally’s entourage.

John then came out of the bathroom also wearing a Toga and taking another gulp from a nearly empty small whiskey bottle.

All right, everybody say Toga! Toga! Not getting the response he wanted from the group, he moved out into the living room.

All right gang we can do better, he said after another quick belt of booze. Tom join us too.

Tom smiled as convincingly as he could. The chants began this time with a trio TO GA, To Ga, Toga. Tom chimed in on the last one to make it a quartet.

Then Sally reached over and felt John’s crotch area. Tom almost choked on his verbal toga as this was so unlike his beloved Sally.

Honey is it supposed to be this soft.? Tom wondered if now both his friends were already a bit tipsy. The room was quiet. John felt the sting of a sexual insult in the eyes of 2 pretty out of touch (i.e. not cool) Kids.

Hey guys that is a line from the movie Animal House, He earnestly clarified.

Silence.

Sally is now beaming and suggests that the folks in the audience don’t see many movies. John seems almost red with embarrassment.

"You should have said—is it supposed to be this big?" He laughs but no one else does. John forces a smile.

Sally realizes John needs some help.

Yes, dear it is a coliseum.

Tom feels the need to correct her. You mean a colossus-

He wishes he had remained silent as the two women stare back at him in disbelief. He was amazed though that he did make this feeble effort to if not conquer Sally least let her know her know the slave was in the back of the house. Too many times, too many years he found that silence was not golden and he needed to be emboldened.

A better Roman term, Tom continued but then realized he could be guilty to a major 70’s male sin or revelation of penis envy, can’t vouch for the accuracy.

A moment of silence persist and then he weakly chants—Toga, Toga. The rest will join him and smiles abound.

Much better, I wish you ‘all would join us. Sally pleaded. There was no response although Tom smiled inside. John echoes her thoughts by suggesting that the slaves need to join the party.

Tom says he has to study. The mystery girl says she has to work the shift at the crack of stupid in the morning. Tom now remembers that he should have used and cited that quote earlier in this book during his foray into work.

Sally now remembers she hasn’t introduced her friend to John. She apologizes and says her name is Libby and she is a friend from high school staying with her for a while. Tom is amazed that Sally would have any friends as ordinary as Libby. He also knows that a big fringe benefit of rooming with John is that he could get into any frat party he wants to. Libby wouldn’t change his study plans for tonight.

He explains he’d like