Bittersweets - Brenda and Larry: Steamy Romance Read online

  I have great hopes that we shall love each other all our lives as much as

  if we had never married at all. Lord Byron

  Bittersweets

  Brenda and Larry

  by

  Suzanne Jenkins

  Copyright © 2017 by

  Suzanne Jenkins. All rights reserved.

  Created in digital format in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations in blog posts and articles and in reviews.

  Bittersweets – Brenda and Larry is a complete and total work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Where familiar places in Philadelphia are mentioned, it is in a completely fictitious manner.

  Chapter 1

  The podium was angled so that not only did the audience get the full view of the speaker, but out from under the protection of the canopy, the relentless sun beat down on her mortarboard, bored into her eyes, and generally roasted her. It was good practice for the courtroom, she mumbled to herself when she stepped off the stage to thunderous applause. Sweat dropped off her chin, carrying Cover Girl liquid makeup along with it, staining the front of her graduation gown, forever immortalizing pictures of her on that special day, and there were plenty, including a full page spread in the Philadelphia Inquirer.

  The oldest child from a large, Catholic family, Brenda Lipinski’s graduation from Saint Joseph’s University had made her mother and father so happy, and so proud. Both had carried small packages of tissues for the past week because they were apt to burst into tears when talking about the accomplishment of their successful daughter.

  “I can’t wait until it’s over,” Brenda’s brother Pete had whined that morning. “None of us will be able to top this, you realize that, don’t you?”

  He was standing in the doorway of the single bathroom of their family’s west Philadelphia row home, watching her prepare for her big moment.

  “What?” Brenda asked, outlining her lips. “You can be the valedictorian of your class, too. Keep up the good work.”

  “I graduate next year,” he replied. “They’ve never had siblings follow each other, even if they were at the top of their class.”

  “You can do it, Pete,” she said, grabbing him by the shoulders to move him. “Can I have some privacy?”

  Ten people in a three-bedroom row house with one bathroom taught early cooperation.

  “Hurry,” he said. “I have to go.”

  “I’ll be right out,” she promised.

  Before they left in the family van for the ceremony, Brenda prepared for a quick post graduation rendezvous with her friend and client, fellow political science major, Al Fallbrook, and others. Digging through her makeup bag, she pulled the compact holding her diaphragm out, opened it and looked at it carefully, filling it with water, watching the door in case someone burst in on her; the lock had been removed years before. She dried it off and put a thick layer of spermicide in it and then folded it up. Pulling her underpants down with her free hand, she fumbled around to get the right angle, and stuck it into place, reaching her fingers up as high as possible to make sure she’d be safe, preparing for goodbye business transactions.

  “Hurry up in there,” Ray Lipinski shouted.

  “Dad, cut me a break!” Brenda cried, stuffing everything back in the bag and washing her hands.

  Lastly, she lifted her foot up to flush the toilet, and then opened the door.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I went as fast as I could.”

  “You’re not the only one who has to go, you know,” he said.

  The battle cry of the rushed toilet experience at the Lipinskis, they’d finally resorted to buying a camping toilet, but it sat on the ground and was too low for the men to use.

  “We’re going to be late if you don’t get the lead out,” Ray said, looking at her suspiciously. “You weren’t smoking in there, were you?”

  “Right, Dad,” she said, blowing minty breath out at him. She might be graduating from college and going on to law school, but she was still Ray Lipinski’s kid.

  Estelle Dumont Lipinski stood in the narrow hallway, wringing her hands, whining about the time. “Ma, chill out. You’re making all of us nervous,” brother Pete warned.

  Currently, there were four Lipinskis attending Saint Joe’s, all on full paid scholarships via Ray’s tenured professorship. Whenever anyone complained about school, his standard answer; “I was offered a post at Temple, you know.”

  “I hate this last minute stuff,” Estelle replied. “Let’s go. Everyone’s waiting in the van.”

  The Lipinskis’ rust-colored van with three bench seats to accommodate the big family was a neighborhood novelty, the back cargo doors tied shut with bungee cords not the only evidence of its age. The muffler was shot, so everyone in a three-block area was alerted when the family had someplace to go together.

  “Since I’m the one graduating, maybe I should have had the bathroom first,” Brenda said, wagging her finger.

  “Yes, well…” Estelle said, shrugging her shoulders.

  “Do you want to drive with me?” Pete whispered to Brenda, the arrival of the Lipinski van at any school function embarrassing for him.

  “No, you go ahead,” Brenda said, giggling. “I’ll go with the folks.”

  Brenda had evolved beyond any concerns about appearances defining her. Smart and confident from birth practically, nothing seemed to bother her. That would come later.

  Now that her speech was over, the next hours flew by in a confusing mélange of emotional goodwill, saying goodbye, making small talk with her old professors, and last but not least, Al Fallbrook and the others.

  “Do you have a minute?” he asked, holding on to her arm.

  A pre-law student from New Jersey, Al Fallbrook was headed to Michigan for law school, and he was leaving that week to get settled in an apartment and find a job.

  “I’ll say goodbye to my family,” she said. “Wait here.”

  Ray and Estelle waited for Brenda with the younger children, the whole family were still reeling with pride after watching their beautiful daughter make her valedictorian speech.

  “Sissy’s smart, isn’t she?” the youngest, ten-year-old Audrey asked. “Smart and beautiful.”

  “That she is,” Ray said, wiping a tear away. “She’ll go far, Brenda will.”

  “All my children are smart and beautiful,” Estelle said. “Here she comes.

  Walking toward them, her cap in hand, gown fluttering open, Brenda took her mother’s breath away. How did I have such a ravishing creature? she wondered. Knowing that human being had come out of her own body made Estelle feel more beautiful and smarter, so she stood up straighter, and exuded the same confidence she wanted all her children to have.

  “We’re taking off,” Ray said. “Can you get a ride home?”

  “I can,” Brenda said. “There are a hundred parties happening so don’t expect me home anytime soon.”

  “Okay, well don’t get in a car with anyone who’s been drinking,” Estelle said.

  “No drugs or alcohol, period,” Ray added.

  “Yes, parents,” she said, smiling.

  While the family loaded into the old van, Brenda slipped her graduation gown off and threw it in the back. “I’ll hang on to my mortarboard so they know I’m a graduate.”

  Standing back, she waved watching them pull away. Once they were out of sight, she walked back to find Al Fallbrook, who’d be waiting patiently. She was in charge of their friendship.


  Sure enough, he was leaning against the light post outside his dorm. Students had moved out the day before, but they still had keys. The crowds had thinned, most of the graduates having lunch with family members, or in groups, preparing to party for the rest of the weekend. Brenda had business to take care of first.

  “Are you ready?” Al said, reaching his hand out for her.

  “Ready,” she said, taking his hand.

  Entering the dorm building, it smelled like dirty socks and chalk. “I’m glad I was able to live at home,” she said. “This is gross.”

  “It was worse, remember,” he said. “My room smells like a brewery.”

  They climbed the staircase together. Approaching his room, he got the key out and inserted it in the lock, turning the handle and stepping aside so she could pass by.

  “You can sit over there,” she said, pointing to a desk chair.

  He did as she said, knowing that the bare mattress would be off-limits. Without speaking, she waited until he was seated and then started slowly undressing. Under her gown she had worn a summer top and shorts because of the heat. Dragging out a striptease as long as possible, doing a little bump and grind while the top came off, she then turned her back to him to pull her shorts off. When they were down around her ankles, she kicked them out of the way, and turned around to see what he was doing. Flushed and glassy eyed, he was enjoying the show.

  Making a swirling motion with her finger, she paused. “Take it out, Al.”

  He unzipped and pulled his penis out. Backing up to him, she waved her rear end over it just for effect, and then knelt down in front of him, slipped a condom over it, and took it in her mouth for a bit.

  “Okay, stop,” he said, squeaking.

  She did, and turned around again, sitting on him. It didn’t take him long. The diaphragm might have been overkill, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

  Going through the motions, petting him, telling him how great it was, all the while slipping her shorts back on. She never took her bra or panties off, working around them.

  He got up to go to the bathroom while she waited in the bedroom. When he came out, still flushed and smiling, she held her hand out.

  “I’m really going to miss you,” he said, taking his wallet out.

  Counting out five twenty-dollar bills, he handed them over. Then, he took another ten and passed that over, too.

  “Why thank you, Al! I appreciate it,” Brenda said.

  “I’m really going to miss you,” he repeated, knowing how lucky he was to have a friend like her. “You’ve been a good friend.”

  “You’ll meet women in Michigan,” she said, buttoning her shorts. “Let’s get out of here. Are you heading over to the quadrangle? I’m starving.”

  “I’ll walk over with you,” he said. “I’m supposed to meet some friends to head out to Bryn Mawr for a party. You can come along if you want.”

  Brenda had a few hours of moneymaking time left on campus and she planned to put it to good use. Her job at the diner was not going to be enough to sustain her, but she wasn’t about to start turning tricks at Penn. No, she’d make hay while the sun shone. The customers she had who were staying in Philadelphia would still be around, but it wouldn’t be constant like it was at St. Joe’s.

  “Aw, you’re so sweet Al, but I promised my folks I’d be home for the get-together they’ve planned. You know how it is, family obligations.”

  “At least your family is celebrating with you,” he said. “Mine couldn’t wait to get home.”

  “Well, now you’re free to go to a party,” she said. “Oh look, tacos!”

  They’d arrived at the quadrangle and food tables were set up with a few people arriving to eat, most having plans to go out for a meal or hurrying to get home to set up for their parties. Grabbing a plate, Brenda served herself a healthy portion, not worrying about her weight like most women. She worked so hard, every calorie she took in burned off in no time.

  Standing off to the side, people-watching while she ate, Al stood next to her, feeling sad and protective, knowing he was probably cramping her style, but wishing she didn’t have to spread herself so thin.

  “I’ll miss you,” he repeated.

  “Al, you’ll be fine,” she said. “When you’re home, get in touch.”

  Pulling his wallet out again, he retrieved her business card – Brenda Lipinski – 215-555 -1212.

  “Will you keep this number?” he asked.

  “Of course,” she said. “That’s my cell phone.”

  “Are you going to commute?” he asked. “I mean you’re not that far.”

  “It’s five miles from my house to Penn Law,” she said, laughing. “But I’m thinking about sharing an apartment. My family needs the relief. Trust me, there are eight kids in a three-bedroom, one-bath house. My brothers live in the cellar.”

  “Yikes, that’s a lot of kids,” he said. “Why didn’t I know that about you?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, smiling at him. “It’s no secret. My dad gives the song and dance every semester.”

  “I’ve never had him,” Al said.

  “Yeah, me either,” she said, taking a bite of food.

  A group of graduates, men and women walked toward them and Al kissed Brenda on the cheek. “I’ll say goodbye then,” he said. “We’ll see each other again over break.”

  Watching him walk off, Brenda quickly moved on to her next goal, meeting another client.

  Chapter 2

  Just like when she was a college student, while in law school, Brenda kept to herself and excelled. A small group of dedicated students invited Brenda to join their study sessions, and without wanting to, she became their core, the human they depended on when the stress got to be overwhelming.

  Friday nights were devoted to this group. They took turns drilling each other in preparation for the discussions they’d have in Constitutional Law the following week. They’d have the opportunity to defend their own experiences where an aspect of the law had touched their lives. Sometimes heated, but more of the time fascinating, Brenda lived for these moments where she learned more about her classmates, and allowed them a glimpse into her experience.

  The classroom discussion was affirmative action. Somehow, the conversation had evolved from minorities to a privileged few. Defending the position of minorities, Brenda had inadvertently put the focus on her blonde, blue-eyed self.

  “I heard your father’s a college professor,” a classmate stated. “When I hear that, I immediately think of privilege.”

  Thinking, Ha, you’ve got to be kidding me, Brenda took a deep breath and prepared to debate.

  “I’m privileged in many ways,” she responded. “Because of good genes and a wooden spoon, I have always tested at the top of my class.

  “I attended university free because of my father’s position. Three of my eight siblings are there now. My mother is a stay at home mom and my dad’s salary is less than you’d think. The kids all work when they’re old enough to have a paper route.”

  If they only knew, she thought. Luckily, her past moneymaking schemes had stayed in the past so far. Several fellow pre-law St. Joe students who were at Penn with her didn’t know about the side jobs she’d performed or if they did, kept her confidence and no one got in touch for a get-together.

  Three years flew by, and before she knew it, it was time to graduate. Content to complete the program without making any waves, she sat in the back row during commencement, thinking about what the future might hold for her. After the last diploma had been given out, the speeches done, she slowly filed out of the massive auditorium toward her parents when, daydreaming, she tripped and fell down the steps.

  “Oh my God, Brenda! Are you okay?”

  Stunned, Brenda looked up at the sweet face of Sarah, one of the Friday night study group members.

  “I think so,” she said, feeling like a klutz. “I tripped over my own feet.”

  “Can you get up?” Sarah said, getting
behind her to give her a boost.

  “I’m okay,” Brenda said, laughing, but when she tried to put weight on her right foot, the pain shot up her leg. “Oh!”

  “Is it your ankle?” Sarah asked. “Put your weight on me.”

  “Oh, it’s my foot,” she said, trying not to cry out. “I wonder if I broke something.”

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Sarah said. “You’d better get an X-ray.”

  “I’ve got to say goodbye to my parents,” Brenda said. “Can you help me over there?”

  Another classmate, Tom, came to her rescue and between Sarah and Tom, they got her over to the Lipinskis, who expressed concern. As parents of eight children, unless there was a severed artery, they didn’t get too upset about injuries. After saying goodbye, Sarah and Tom dragged Brenda to Tom’s car for the five-minute ride to the emergency room.

  The lighted sign over the porte cochere spelled out Emergency Medicine. “This is hardly an emergency,” Brenda said, feeling guilty over making such a big deal out of a trip.

  “Hey, a broken bone is a broken bone,” Tom said.

  They helped her hobble across the parking lot when she refused to let them drop her off at the entrance. The automatic doors opened and an empty waiting area greeted them. The triage nurse stood at the reception desk, watching the two friends bring Brenda in jumping on one foot.

  “Let’s see. You have a stomachache,” she said, mocking. “No, no, not a stomachache. You twisted your ankle.”

  “Excellent,” Tom said, looking around. “Are you even open?”

  “This is a fluke,” the nurse said, pulling a chair out for Brenda. “We were just saying we can’t remember the last time we didn’t have anyone in here and then you walked through the door.”

  The receptionist took Brenda’s insurance information while Tom schmoozed with the nurse. Looking around the area behind the glass partition, Brenda saw a huddle of young, attractive people wearing green scrubs and white lab coats, with stethoscopes around their necks and ID cards hanging from lanyards. She elbowed Sarah and nodded her head toward one handsome doctor, maybe a little older than the others, holding court. He had sandy hair and that unshaven look that was so popular. Sweetly smiling as the others around him chatted, they were looking at him with almost worshipful reverence.