silence went on so long that it became uncomfortable. In my stubbornness, though, I wouldn’t speak, but nor would I break eye contact. Finally, he started laughing, and I laughed, too.
“What’s your name, baby doll?” he asked.
“Vivian Morris.”
“You free tonight to spend some time with me, Vivian Morris?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Yes?” he asked.
I shrugged.
He tilted his head and looked at me closer, still smiling. “Yes?” he asked again.
“Yes,” I decided, and that was the end of the maybe.
But then he asked it again: “Yes?”
“Yes!” I said, thinking perhaps he hadn’t heard me.
“Yes?” he said one more time, and now I realized that he was asking me about something else here. We weren’t talking about going out for dinner and a movie. He was asking me if I was really free tonight.
In an entirely different tone, I said, “Yes.”
Within a half hour, we were in his brother’s bed.
I knew instantly that this was not going to be the same sort of sexual experience to which I was accustomed. First of all, I wasn’t drunk and neither was he. And we weren’t standing up in the cloakroom of a nightclub, or fumbling in the back of a cab. There was no fumbling to be had here. Anthony Roccella was not in a hurry. And he liked to talk as he worked, but not in a horrible way like Dr. Kellogg. He liked to ask me playful questions, which I loved. I think he just liked to hear me say yes again and again, and I was more than happy to oblige him.
“You know how pretty you are, don’t you?” he asked, once he’d locked the door behind us.
“Yes,” I said.
“You’re gonna come sit on this bed with me now, right?”
“Yes.”
“You know I’m gonna have to kiss you now, cuz of how pretty you are?”
“Yes.”
And sweet mercy, could that boy kiss. One hand on each side of my face, with his long fingers reaching behind my skull, holding me still while he softly tested out my mouth. This part of sex—the kissing part, which I always loved—was usually over far too quickly in my experience, but Anthony didn’t seem to be heading toward something more. This was the first time I’d been kissed by somebody who was getting as much pleasure out of kissing as I was.
After a long time—a very good long time—he pulled back. “Here’s what we’re gonna do now, Vivian Morris. I’m gonna sit here on this bed, and you’re gonna stand right there, under the light, and take your dress off for me.”
“Yes,” I said. (Once you start saying it, it’s so easy to keep going!)
I walked to the center of the room and stood—just as instructed—right under the lightbulb. I took my dress off, and stepped out of it, covering up my nervousness by throwing my hands up in the air. Ta-da! As soon as my dress came off, though, Anthony started laughing, and I was catapulted into shame—thinking of how thin I was, and how small my breasts were. When he saw the look on my face, he softened his laughter and said, “Oh, no, doll. I’m not laughing at you. I’m just laughing because I like you so much. You’re a fast little operator, and it’s cute.”
He stood up and picked my dress up off the floor.
“Why don’t you put this dress back on, doll?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “That’s all right, I don’t mind.” I was making no sense, but I was thinking: I blew it, it’s over.
“No, listen to me, baby. You’re gonna put this dress back on for me, and then I’ll ask you to take it off for me again. But this time, you’re gonna slow it way down, okay? Don’t be such a fast worker.”
“You’re crazy.”
“I just want to see you do it again. Come on, doll. I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life. Don’t rush it.”
“No, you have not been waiting for this moment your whole life!”
He grinned. “Nah, you’re right. I haven’t. But I sure do like it, now that it’s here. So how ’bout you give it to me again? But real slow.”
He sat back down on the bed, and I put my dress on. I came over and let him do up the buttons in the back, which he did, slowly and carefully. I could have reached the buttons myself, of course, and in just a few moments I would be unbuttoning them all over again, but I wanted to give him the task. Honestly, the