I was beginning to lose track of Jamie. Instead of just being surrounded by a class, there were hundreds of other students and word had gotten around,...so the groups that were tormenting us gradually began to separate. The last time I saw her she was being held down on a table, her legs being held up and spread apart in the air as some girls and guys were inserting cocktail sausages in her pussy and asshole and asking if it felt bigger than my penis. That was the last time I ever saw Jamie. Then her friends began visiting as well. Imagine watching six girls, playing and splashing and swimming in the pool, all wearing the briefest suits imaginable. Then they would lay out and sunbathed. Often one or more would take off their suit and take advantage of the sun.Sometimes, on the frequent evenings her parents weren't home, they would have a few beers. Soon, they started dunking each other, which led to "stealing" swimsuit tops (and sometimes bottoms) and tossing them out of the. She lived quite a distance from my home so keeping in touch was usually by E-mail with Birthdays and Christmas cards etc. One day I was at a low ebb in my life so called Sally and arranged a week end stop over at her place. Little did I know that she was shacked up with a hunk of man, Mike. I caught the train to Hull and Sally met me at the station. I gave her a big hug and a kiss to her check and she was over the moon to see me as was I her.Later that night after a few drinks at the local pub. The seclusion and privacy of Beverly Hills was designed to discourage familiarity but I couldn’t help notice how Betty and Harold seemed to have classic cocktail parties three or four times a week, the big band music and babble of voices reaching me when I sat on my patio. Their soirées would go on into the early hours. It never bothered me. It wasn’t as if I had guests that were being disturbed by the noise. Besides, it was a sign of life in the neighborhood.Through Amelia, I discovered her.
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