Summer '69 Page 2
“One kiss won’t hurt, will it?” she said.
“Of course not.”
Tommy kissed Connie hard on the mouth and Connie opened hers to allow Tommy in. Connie’s familiar flavor wrapped around Tommy, and she felt herself floating freely above herself as the kiss deepened.
“That was nice,” Connie said when the kiss ended.
“Yeah, it was. Now let’s go join the party.”
“I want one more toke, don’t you?”
Tommy knew she didn’t need another toke, but thought what the hell? She took a deep drag and handed the joint to Connie. Connie took her toke and they walked out into the later afternoon to join the rest of the revelers.
Soon the dinner bell rang, and the members of the commune moved together to the dining hall where Trinity had fried the fish Tommy had caught earlier to go with the usual vegetarian fare. With little money for a food budget, Trinity was a miracle worker at feeding the group.
Tommy sat at a table and was instantly surrounded by people wanting to congratulate her on the rally. She was stoned, really stoned, but she tried to concentrate on each person as they spoke to her.
“You were really far out today,” Ruth, an older woman, told her. She had long graying hair and wore it like Tommy wore hers, in a braid down her back. “I mean, really.”
Tommy looked at her and saw her eyes were slits, just like Tommy’s felt. What she could see of them were red. She’d either had too much wine or she was as stoned as Tommy.
“Thanks, Ruth,” Tommy said and scooted over to make room for her on the bench.
Ruth sat down.
“We’re going to have a drum circle tonight. Are you coming?”
“Sure. I’ll be there.”
“Groovy. You want to get together after?”
“I’d love to.”
The bourbon and pot had Tommy feeling both mellow and horny. It was a strange combination, but who was she to fight it? She took a sip of the bourbon she’d brought with her from her tent then dug in to her dinner. She had the munchies and everything was delicious. After she’d eaten, she rinsed her dishes and put them in the dirty dish bin. She walked out into the warm night air. There was a slight cool breeze blowing in off the ocean, which was near their commune. It felt good on her heated flesh.
She wandered through the commune watching people relaxing after dinner. She finally saw the drum circle and walked over to watch and listen. She saw Ruth sitting on the ground beating a bongo drum. Several other people had gathered with their drums and were sitting or standing in a circle with her.
Tommy sipped her bourbon as she listened to the continuous pounding. Soon the beat flowed through her. She rocked to the sound. She was lost in the music. It was a way-out feeling. She closed her eyes and just let herself feel the drums. Shortly after, some other people showed up with other instruments, and they all played popular tunes of the day.
They played “Crystal Blue Persuasion,” “One,” and “Spinning Wheel,” as well as favorites by Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin. Everyone sang along, and soon Tommy was lost in the music. She felt an arm around her waist.
“Want to get out of here?” Ruth said.
“Are you through drumming?”
“Yeah. I dig this music, but don’t play it.”
“Right on. Yeah. Let’s head to my tent.”
Again, once inside, Tommy closed the flap and zipped it shut.
“Do you have any candles?” Ruth said. “I really go for candles.”
“Yeah. I’ve got some. Hold on. You want some bourbon?”
“Sure.”
Tommy lit some candles then poured a cup of bourbon for Ruth. She sat next to her on the cot.
“You sure you want candles? People will see what we’re doing in here,” Tommy said.
“Baby, what we’re doin’ is only natural. Who’s going to care?”
Tommy handed Ruth the bourbon. Ruth took a sip.
“Oh, this is good shit. How can you afford this?”
“It’s a luxury I allow myself occasionally.” Tommy deflected the question. Nobody knew who she really was or what kind of money she came from, and she preferred to keep it that way. She was Tommy the activist. And that’s who she was in her heart, anyway. What did it matter if she had a little bit of money?
“Right on. We should all be able to allow ourselves a luxury. If that’s what we want, I mean,” Ruth said. “Do you have any weed?”
“Yeah. Hold on.”
Tommy lit a joint and took a hit then sat next to Ruth again.
“Here you go.” She handed it to Ruth.
“Thanks.” Ruth took a hit. “That’s good shit, too. What are you? Rich or something?”
Tommy laughed.
“Hardly.”
She took the joint from Ruth and set it in the ashtray. She figured they’d both had enough. She looked into Ruth’s eyes, which now were open enough to see her blue irises.
“You’ve got beautiful eyes,” Tommy said.
“Thanks. So do you.”
Tommy laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Ruth said.
“Sorry. I’m just stoned.”
“Yeah? Me, too.” And Ruth began to laugh as well.
They rolled around on the cot laughing for a few minutes. When they finally were able to breathe, Tommy held herself up over Ruth, who looked up at her with desire in her eyes.
Tommy lowered herself and kissed Ruth lightly on the lips. It was just a brief meeting, but it sent white-hot chills through Tommy’s body. She braced herself up on an elbow and looked at Ruth.
“You know I’m not into commitment or anything, right?” she said.
“I’m all about the free love, baby. Love the one you’re with. Tonight that’s you. Tomorrow? Who knows?”
Tommy was happy with that response so she kissed Ruth again. This one was hard and passionate. Ruth opened her mouth and welcomed Tommy’s tongue. They tangoed together for a while before Tommy broke the kiss, breathless.
“Damn,” she said. “That was somethin’ else.”
“Yeah, it was. Do it again.”
Tommy was happy to oblige. While they kissed, she moved her hand under Ruth’s shirt and cupped her small breast.
“Mm,” Ruth said. “That feels good.”
“Let’s get out of these clothes,” Tommy said.
They stood and undressed, then collapsed back on the cot together. Tommy skimmed her hand over the length of Ruth’s body. It was definitely the body of an older woman, but Tommy thought it was beautiful. All women were beautiful in Tommy’s eyes.
She kissed down Ruth’s neck and chest and finally took one of her nipples in her mouth. She sucked it hard as she played over it with her tongue.
“Oh God, you feel good,” Ruth said.
Encouraged, Tommy sucked harder and continued to flick Ruth’s nipple with her tongue. Ruth grabbed hold of Tommy’s head and held it in place.
“Oh, yes. Oh, dear God, yes. Don’t stop, Tommy.”
Tommy wasn’t about to stop. She sensed Ruth getting close and was determined to get her off. She continued to suck and play with Ruth’s nipple with her tongue until she let out a low moan, letting Tommy know she’d climaxed.
“That was far out,” Ruth said. “I had to fight not to scream when I came.”
“Right on. I’m glad that worked for you.”
Tommy was far from through, though. She kissed down Ruth’s stomach until she was positioned between her legs. She placed Ruth’s knees over her shoulders and gazed at the beauty before her. Where to begin?
She ran her tongue over the length of Ruth before dipping her tongue as deep as it would go and lapping all the juices off her satin walls. She stretched her tongue as far as she could before taking it out and moving to Ruth’s swollen clit. She held it between her lips and ran her tongue over it. She felt Ruth tense up off the cot and then collapse after she’d reached her orgasm.
Tommy climbed up next to Ruth and held her briefly.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Ruth said.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s your turn now.”
“Right on.”
Ruth placed her hand between Tommy’s legs. Tommy was wet and ready for her. Ruth slipped her fingers inside Tommy. She moved them in and out, twisting and turning them as she did. Tommy bucked off the cot, meeting each thrust. Ruth continued doing this for quite a while. Then she brushed her thumb over Tommy’s clit, and Tommy groaned as she came again and again.
They relaxed in the candlelit tent for a few minutes.
“I should get going,” Ruth said.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Your cot really isn’t big enough for both of us. Besides, the party’s still going on. I’m not ready to call it a night yet, are you?”
Tommy was feeling extremely relaxed, but knew she still had it in her to party some more.
“No, I guess not.”
They got up and dressed. Tommy lit the joint and they shared it. She poured herself some more bourbon and they walked out to join the crowd.
***
The following morning, Tommy woke to hear someone calling her from outside her tent.
“Tommy? Tommy? Are you in there?”
She climbed out of her cot and zipped opened the flap of her tent. There was Trinity. She rubbed her eyes.
“Hey, Trinity. What time is it?”
“It’s early. I’m sorry to wake you, but there is a reporter from the local newspaper here asking to speak to you.”
“Where is he?”
“In the dining room.”
“Tell him I’ll be right there.”
Tommy put on some shorts and a flannel shirt. She brushed out her hair and braided it again. She splashed some water on her face from a bowl she kept on the table, then brushed her teeth. She was ready.
She walked over to the dining room. It was fairly empty as most of the people on the commune slept late. Especially after a night of partying. She saw the man from the paper and crossed the room to him.
“Tommy Benton?” he said.
“That’s me. And who are you?”
“Richard. Richard Schaefer.”
“Nice to meet you, Richard.”
“I’d like to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay,” Richard said.
“Sure.”
“We understand you were an integral part of yesterday’s demonstration down at Town Hall.”
“That’s correct. I organized it, but the people of this commune also did a lot of work to make it happen.”
“It’s being called a very successful rally. Did you feel it was a success?”
“I really did,” Tommy said. “There were thousands of people there who all believe in the need to get us out of Vietnam. But the protest was peaceful, which for me is very important.”
“Yes, you’ve said many times you’re against violence.”
“I am. At all costs.”
“Do you think rallies like yours will help bring about an end to the conflict in Vietnam?” Richard said.
“They have to. We all have to speak out whenever we can to let Nixon know we disagree with what’s going on over there. Our young men and women don’t deserve to be shipped over there to be served on a platter to the Viet Cong.”
“You use that phrase a lot,” Richard said. “Why?”
“Because that’s how I see it. Our kids aren’t ready to fight in that strange country against that foreign type of opponent. They’re slaughtering us. It has to stop.”
“Where do you see yourself in five years, assuming the war is over by then?”
“My God. The war had better be over by then,” Tommy said. “I see myself fighting for civil rights. This country still has a long way to go before we have equality for all.”
“Excellent cause,” Richard said. “Did you want to say anything else before I call this interview over?”
“Just one thing. Give peace a chance, man. Give peace a chance.”
Richard closed his notebook.
“Thank you very much for your time,” he said. “I hope to submit my article to some larger papers, too, you know, the Chronicle, the Times, the Washington Post. I want to get some national exposure, and I know you do, too.”
“That would be great.”
“Now, how do I get out of here?”
Tommy laughed.
“Come on. I’ll show you the way.”
She led him back to his van which was parked in the motel parking lot.
“Thank you again for your time,” he said. “And good luck.”
“Thank you.”
Tommy walked back to her tent where she lay down to try to go back to sleep. But sleep eluded her, so she walked back to the dining hall. She helped herself to oatmeal and coffee. She sat at a table, and Trinity came over to talk to her.
“Do you ever get tired of newspaper reporters?” Trinity said.
“Not really. They don’t come around that often. And this guy was on our side, so I was more than happy to talk to him.”
“That’s cool. You’re all right, Tommy.”
“Thanks, Trinity.”
“What would this commune do without you?”
Tommy laughed.
“That’s a silly question. The purpose of a commune is to work for the common good. We’re all important to this place.”
“Yeah. I guess we are.”
Tommy rinsed her dishes and put them in the dirty bin then went to her tent again. She grabbed her pole and tackle box and headed to the creek. Life was good for Tommy Benton. That reporter was going to help catapult Tommy to the national spotlight. Life was very good indeed.
About the Author
MJ Williamz was raised on California’s central coast, which she left at age seventeen to pursue an education. She graduated from Chico State, and it was in Chico that she rediscovered her love of writing. It wasn’t until she moved to Portland, however, that her writing really took off, with the publication of her first short story in 2003. She hasn’t looked back.
MJ is the author of nine books, including the award-winning Initiation by Desire and Escapades. She has also had over thirty short stories published, most of them erotica, with a few romances and a few horrors thrown in for good measure.
MJ now lives in Houston with her wife and son.
Visit MJ’s website at www.mjwilliamz.com to keep up with her or friend her on Facebook.
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