It was November of 1967, when I saw him at a football game, between Hollywood High, and Beverly Hills High. Since I was a student at Beverly Hills, I was clueless about Tommy Castle.
I soon learned who he was.
The bleachers shook, every time he threw one of those passes, that stayed airborne until it landed in the hands of a receiver, like a wounded bird. The crowd roared every time he took the field. His long blonde mane flew out the back of his helmet like a tail on a stunning stallion.
People were chanting his name, young girls were sobbing. It was the most thrilling night of my 17 years. By the second half, I was sobbing, too. What the fuck? I'm a groupie? No way.
I'm Paula Parker Castle. I'm the only daughter of Carlton and Vanessa Parker and was conceived in Paris, and would have been born there, except my father wanted me to be an American. So, on Decmber 29th, 1950, we flew to America so I could pop out on American soil. I came out in Hollywood crying , a talent, that I mastered early, and do a fair amount of to this day.
I grew up in a mansion, and lived the life of a snotty rich girl. I have always been pretty, thanks to Vanessa's great genes, and never had any problems getting a boys attention. I had all the dates I wanted, and was naturally the prom queen, that I was destined to be. My life was perfect until that November night.
After the game, I found myself being swept towards the parking lot with the other sobbing females. It was crazy. I wondered if maybe the "Beatles" were in the lot giving an impromptu "I want to hold your hand'" performance.
Then like on cue, the crowd fell silent. A shushed whisper stirred amongst us. Then...then I saw him. This huge kid with long flowing blonde hair came out the side door of the gym, banging the door against the wall, and took off in a smooth confident stride across the parking lot.
My mind sees it all in slow motion, even today. Suddenly, I went deaf.
I must have, because I could see girls screaming and running after him, but didn't hear anything, except my own breath. They had papers in their hands, school posters, notebook paper, scraps of anything they could find that he could scribble his name on. I scrambled through my purse- desperate for something to write on.
He paused a few feet in front of his new Corvette Stingray and lit a cigarette, as the crowd of screaming teens circled him. I know, because I was one of them. It had rained earlier, and there were a few tiny puddles scattered around, but that didn't stop the crowds. Suddenly, because of all the pushing and shoving, I found myself, on my ass, in one of the aforementioned puddles.
Apparently, I made a significant splash, since I couldn't see out of my left eye, that was covered in rain mush. I couldn't get up because of the crowd, so I just sat in the puddle and sobbed. Then it got real quiet. He was on the move. I tilted my head up with one eye closed, my mouth wide open and tried to focus. The next thing I knew, he had squatted in front of me with his cigarette dangling from his full lips. I was stunned when he asked, "You ok?" A bowling ball must have slammed into my chest.
"What?" I mumbled like an idiot.
"I asked if you're ok?"
I mean, really? Do I fucking look ok? But,I didn't say that.
Instead this was what came out, "I'm fine, thanks. How about you?"then I felt a goofy smile forming over my trembling chin.
Am I an idiot or what? My little scrap of paper was wet, but he simply held his hand up, over his shoulder, while another fool like me ripped a sheet of paper from her spiral notebook, then handed it to him. Their hands touched briefly in the exchange and I think she fainted.
Tommy took a pen from a much calmer girl, and started to write using his knee as something solid, "What's your name pretty girl?"
"What?" Again, a foolish whisper came out of my mouth.
"Your name hon?" Did he just call me hon? This was an OMG moment where I actually couldn't speak.
"Pa..Pau..Paul....Paula. Pa..Par..Park...Parker..." Whew! My fucking heart was pounding so loud, I was sure everyone heard it.
"Paula Parker? Got it." He scribbled something, and stood and reached for my hands and pulled me up. I tilted my head back as far as I could without falling back in the puddle and still couldn't see anything but the bottom of his chin.
I was more than smitten. Imagine what I felt when he touched my face and said, "I'll call you Paula Parker." His hand slipped from mine, as he walked to his red Corvette, and sped away, followed by a throng of screaming , weeping young girls. Except for me.
I just froze and stared at his tail lights, until they disappeared in the distance.
Then I glanced down at the paper he actually touched! I held it to my nose and sniffed it, where he had had his fingers only moments before. Mmm. I was having another OMG moment, when Allison tugged my sweater at the elbow. I snapped out of my trance and turned to her. Allison was another spoiled rich girl, with long curly hair and the biggest blue eyes in Hollywood.
Not a virgin like me though. She played fast, loose and often. I mean, what guy wouldn't want a chain smoking , beer drinking hottie like Allison Reed? Simply known as AR-as in Always Ready.
But, that night , like me, AR was smitten. Her mascara streaked her face in a whimsical pattern, and her blue eyes were now bloodshot.
We stood silent for a minute-breathing like we had just ran a marathon. Her chest heaved, "What the fuck was that?" Then nervously tried to light her cigarette.
I shook my head, "I don't know. Do I look as bad as you?"I then took her cigarette from her red lips and puffed on it. Since I didn't smoke, it was clear that I had made my first bad decision, only minutes after meeting the Hollywood heartbreaker.
That's the effect he had on women. Still does.
It was just after Christmas, when he finally called. How was he supposed to know how many nights I sat on my bed staring at the phone? Or how many nights I masturbated myself to sleep thinking of him, only to be joined in my dreams right where we left off, when I was masturbating? Or how many dates I didn't accept, because this might be the weekend he calls?
Yeah, I was a goner. Head over fucking heels in love, with a guy, that had said less than than a dozen words to me.
"Hi Paula Parker. This is Tommy." I dropped the phone, on the bed, and slapped my hands to my mouth. Tommy. Like Cheror Celine, or Madonna. Why use a last name? There must have been hundreds of Tommy's in the area, but everyone knew, there was only one TOMMY.
I snatched the receiver up and calmed myself, "Hi Tommy. How are you?"
"I'm good. How was your Christmas?"
Crickets. Chirp. Chirp.
I was usually a better conversationalist than that, but it was the best I could do, at the moment. Never having talked to a god in person, I simply didn't know what to say. Then he hit me with "Friday night ok?" as I heard him light a cigarette. Was he asking me out?!
I calmed myself again and said casually, "Fine. What time?" I heard myself echo in my ears. Saturday was my birthday, so I probably shouldn't be out late, so timing was suddenly critical.
"Well, I have a lot to do Saturday, so I was hoping we could make it an early night. So, let's get started early. Say around 6:00 pm?"
Isn't he the greatest?
"That's perfect. I have a busy day Saturday myself."
"Good. See you then."
I didn't want to hang up, so I quickly said,"Wait! What should I wear?"
"Good question. Well, we're going to a little club, on the beach called 'The Rendezvous," so shorts, Capris..something like that."
"Uhh...I can't get in. I don't have fake ID."
"Don't worry. You'll be with me. No one will ask." I was an idiot. No one ever asked him for ID, and if I was with him, certainly they wouldn't ask me.
"Oh, right. I guess you go there often?"
"Not really. It's kind of a private party type deal."
"Oh. Ok then. So, Friday?"
"Yep, and hey...Paula?"
"Thanks for saying yes . I wasn't sure if you'd remember me. See ya."
I didn't hang up for ten minutes. I just sat with my legs crossed in the middle of the bed. If I smoked, this would have been the perfect time. Did he really say he hoped I'd remembered him? I've thought of nothing BUT him for the past 47 days, 15 minutes, and 27 seconds. I slept with his damn autograph under my pillow.
Allison burst in the room. I had forgotten she was downstairs watching "The Twilight Zone" with my parents. "Was that him?"
I nodded, as I slowly placed the phone back in its cradle. "Yes. He asked me out." I said calmly, slowly, like I didn't believe it myself.
"Oh my God! I can't wait to tell the other girls that Tommy Castle called and asked you out on a date!" I thought that was my job, but she was so goofy about it, I just smiled.
"Yep, "The Rendezvous" down in Laguna Beach. Sounds cool, huh?" I said proudly.
"But, honey...that's ...well. How do you plan on getting past the guy at the door?"
"He said not to worry about it..so I won't. Do you have any cigarettes?"
"Out in my car. Why?"
"Let's go for a ride."
We drove all the way down to Laguna Beach to do some recon...and parked in the sand next to the club. We got out and sat on the hood of her red Mustang and watched happy couples scurry up the steps landing on a covered porch. The front looked beachy with a couple of fishing nets draped across the wall scattered with shells.
Whenever the doors opened, we could hear Dick Dale and the Deltones-the premier surf guitarist of the day pouring over us.
Finally, we got up enough courage to sneak over and peek through the windows facing the beach. It was a wild scene, and got my heart pumping quickly. Arms and legs flailing around, as everyone on the dance floor bobbed up and down in perfect unison. If they weren't on the dance floor, they were sitting at little round tables drinking and smoking, or cuddled in a corner booth making out.
I instantly wondered which would be us in less than 72 hours. I opted for the booth, but continued to hop up and down to the music in case Tommy was a dancer. I also practiced my smoking style, not that I had any, but Allison damn sure did. And since I knew he smoked, it was a good bet he wanted his date to smoke, too.
Allison said, men go nuts watching a girl french inhale and since I was conceived in Paris, I took to it quite naturally.
There was an almost a full cup of beer sitting on the porch railing, so naturally, we drank that as we smoked. All in all, a very successful recon job, and full of memories even today.
On the drive home, I chain smoked and laid my head back and dreamed of Friday night while Allison fucked with the radio looking for Wolfman Jack.
In my minds eye, I had it all pictured. How he would be the perfect gentleman as I introduced him to my folks. They were almost as excited as I was. My dad was a huge football fan, and naturally knew all of Tommy's impressive stats. Mom, of course was female and would be fawning over him like a schoolgirl.
After the pleasantrees are exchanged , he would take my hand and walk me to his Corvette, while Carlton and Vanessa hugged on the front steps, watching him open the door for me. I'll turn and wave and try to contain my giggle, as I slide in the passenger seat.
I had never ridden in a Corvette before, and had no idea my ass would be just inches from the ground. But, I would enjoy the vibrations his powerful engine would provide against my quivering ass.
The Corvette would pull away slowly, with me still grinning and waving until it stops at the front gate- away from prying eyes. He'll put his arm around me and pull me close, raise my chin with his forefinger, and kiss me lightly a few times. Sorta sampling the merchandise for taste and textures. It was too soon to french kiss, but I would enjoy those tender kisses for now, and save the 'fuck me now' kisses for later.
We would party hard at the club. He would light my cigarettes; Tareytons were the favorites of the surfer dudes and beach bunnies.
Then after working up a sweat dancing, we'll go out and walk on the beach. Somewhere along the way, I'll end up on the sand flat on my back, with his big body covering me, as I let him dry hump me, until I orgasm a few times. I won't blow him right then, and since I had never done more than rub Jerry Stewarts dick outside his pants, well...I wasn't quite ready for Big Tommy Castle.
I figured the night would end down by the front gates where he first teased me with tiny kisses. That's when I would make my move. I'd simply unzip him as we french kissed and jack him off. It was easy, or so Allison proclaimed, and since she was the x-rated version of Shirley Temple, I took her word for it.
She surprised me when she stopped her Mustang in the circular drive near my front door and kissed my lips softly. Since she had never done that before, I chalked it up to that cup of beer we drank, but I did like it enough to let her kiss me a few more times before saying goodnight.
"Night sweetie. Have fun, and I'll see you at your party on Saturday. Hey, why not ask him to come?"
Nothing about our romantic little episode just seconds before. It was simply no big deal to her, but it was a big deal to me. And ask Tommy Castle to come to my 18th birthday party? No way.
I would never get a chance to be alone with him. If daddy didn't have him cornered talking football, mom would have him in her arms protecting him from my girlfriends who were as nuts about him as I was.
No, it wasn't going to happen like that. I won't invite him. He's mine. All mine. Well, at least for one night. Friday night. I'm going to lose my virginity just after midnight.
Then, I'll be all nice and legal.