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Subject: {ASSM} ME AND MARTHA JANE '99 (m/FF,teen) MJANE18.TXT
Date: Wed, 9 Feb 2000 02:10:05 -0500
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**** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING ****
THIS DOCUMENT IS A SEXUALLY GRAPHIC STORY ABOUT AN INTENSE SEXUAL,
EMOTIONAL AND INTELLECTUAL RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN A TEENAGE GIRL AND
A YOUNG BOY AND THE COURSE OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP OVER A PERIOD OF
10 YEARS. IT IS A DRAMATIZATION ABOUT REAL PEOPLE AND THEIR CON-
FLICT WITH SOCIAL EXPECTATIONS. IF THIS SUBJECTS OFFENDS YOU OR IF
SEXUAL LANGUAGE UPSETS YOU, OR IF YOU DON'T WANT THIS MATERIAL SEEN
BY UNDER-18 OR OTHERWISE UNQUALIFIED PERSONS, DELETE THIS DOCUMENT.
THIS DOCUMENT IS COPYRIGHTED 1994, 1999 BY SJR. SO--HEY, YOU CAN
COPY IT BUT YOU CAN'T CHANGE IT OR SELL IT UNLESS I SAY SO.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
THE ADVENTURES OF ME AND MARTHA JANE
by S.J.R.
PART 18A:
She woke up at about five-thirty in the morning. Half sleep, I
heard her close the bedroom door and then I heard the shower running
in the kitchen. I awoke again a few minutes later and smelled coffee.
Then I went off again, dreaming about Martha. She was Martha Jane
in the Lauderdale Courts and she was helping her mother do something
in their bedroom, except the mother looked more and more like an older
version of Ronnie.
I opened my eyes. I was lying on my back. Martha lay with her
face resting on my chest and looking toward the bedroom window. I
looked around. The clock on the night table said seven-fifteen.
Martha raised her head and propped herself on her elbows. "Good
morning," she whispered. She swept my hair away from my face with a
warm hand. She said, "You have a very hard early morning erection."
"Yeah, I know."
"Tell me something."
"What?"
"How do you start out so little and get so big?"
I smacked my dry lips together. "Years of practice and self-
denial. And I probably have to go to the bathroom."
"Now?"
"Soon."
She played with my chin, running a finger round and round. "Is it
difficult for you to cum, when you have to go to the bathroom?"
"Never tried it. But it's difficult to go to the bathroom when
it's that hard."
"Oh, that's right. You have to bend it down, don't you?"
I let my head drop back to the pillow. "Oooh. I have to get up
and get my run in the park."
"No."
"Sure. Before it gets too hot out there."
"No." She coiled her arms around my head and lifted herself over
me and settled onto my chest and held her face against mine. "Take
the day off. You never take a day off, you're worse than I am."
"I took Wednesday off."
"Take today, too. Stay here with me."
I put my arms around her. "Well, I don't wanna start any bad
habits."
She said sleepily, "It doesn't matter. I've already ruined you.
This is the first day in a long time when I have nothing, absolutely
nothing to do. Except lie around and be ruined and ruin you even
more. Ronnie has a date tonight. We have the whole day. Stay here
with me. Stay here until you can't stand me anymore. Stay until you
can't bear to touch me or hear the sound of my voice. Stay until
you're sick of me, sick of the sight of me. Stay until you hate me.
Until you can't stay any longer and you have to get out, you have to
fight your way out so you can be free..."
I put a finger under her chin to raise her head, and she resisted,
but I pushed her head up anyway. I asked, "Hey, what are you talking
about?"
She looked out the window, her face in a mild pout, and she made a
fist of her hands on my chest and leaned on it. She seemed to want to
speak. But her lips held firm, as if she were locking the words be-
hind them. She shook her head no, weakly, and lowered her eyes. Then
she turned her face away from me and lowered her cheek to my chest
again.
I stroked her back. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing."
"What's the matter?"
"No."
I waited. "What's the matter?"
She said quietly, "Remember what you said last night? When I came
home?"
"Yes."
"Whatever happens."
I sighed. I say I love you, finally, and I'm in trouble. I'm in
trouble if I say it, I'm in trouble if I don't.
I said defensively, "I didn't say I'd never get pissed off. I
said I love you anyway."
She waited, thinking. She said, "Do you mean that?"
"Look, what do I have to do?"
She laughed, softly, suddenly, against my chest, and she hugged
me. She said, "Take the day off."
"Oh, all right."
"Go take a shower. You're sweaty already. And come back in here
and take a nap with me. I got up too early."
After I went to the bathroom and showered I piddled around the
kitchen making my super-duper brewer's yeast drink.
She called from the bedroom. "Steevennn."
"What?"
"What are you doing in there?"
"Making my drink."
"Come on in here and be lazy with me."
"In a minute, please. I'm hungry."
I mixed and stirred, and just as I was taking my first gulp she
called from the bedroom, "Minute's up."
"I'm comin', arready."
"'Arready'? You're sounding like a New Yorker, arready."
"Be there in a minute."
I finished my drink, and in the bedroom I found her curled up on
the bed, wearing the bath towel she had worn after her shower. She
had a sleepy smile on her face.
She pointed listlessly toward the bedroom window. "Could you turn
on the fan, please?"
"Yes, Miss Martha."
"I'm so lazy. I'm going to be lazy and messy and stupid all day.
All day. No phones, no papers, no thinking. Vacation only. I'm
going to waste a Friday, waste it completely."
I pointed the little Hunter fan at her. I said, getting back into
bed behind her, "I'll believe it when I see it."
She pulled the bath towel off her and pitched it onto the floor,
and then she reached behind her with one arm, searching for me.
"C'mere. Next to me."
"I am next to you."
"Closer."
I snuggled into her back. We were two naked spoons.
She said, playing, "Closer."
"I can't get any closer."
"Try."
I snuggled as close as I could without pushing her away, her firm
butt in my lap and my dick sneaking between her legs, my arms around
her. She hugged my arms to her breasts and she closed her eyes and
smiled, snuggling into her pillow.
"Better," she said, contented. "Still sleepy?"
"Yes."
"Sleep, then. Let's nap."
I dozed on and off. Martha lay like a sleeping doll, all curled
up along my front, her fine, mussed, light auburn hair highlighted in
the glow from the window, blonde hairlets gleaming. I had one arm
draped around her, my elbow resting in the deep valley between her
slim waist and the high rise of her rounded hip. I heard the rush
hour outside start and then subside. People walked past the build-
ing. Then I went into a deeper sleep for about an hour, dreaming
about Martha weeks ago in the coffee shop near Columbia with her
coworkers, and they were all sitting as if at attention, listening
to her, and she was reading instructions from a paper.
When I opened my eyes again neither Martha nor I had moved. I
lifted my head and looked past her at the clock. It was nearly ten in
the morning. I let my head rest near hers again, and Martha stirred
and glanced at the clock, craning her neck back, and she closed her
eyes and lay as if still snoozing.
I said, "Hi."
"Hi,' she whispered, hugging my arms into her again, letting my
captured hand rest on one of her nipples.
I lay still against her, wondering if I could drift off again.
She kept her eyes closed. She said, "You're hard again."
"Mm-hm."
"You get an erection every time you sleep?"
"No. Just with you."
She smiled. "You say that to everybody."
"Not to guys."
She didn't say anything or move for a moment, her eyes closed as
if she wanted to continue napping, so I closed my eyes and rested a-
gainst her. After a minute she extended a hand below her crotch and
reached underneath to straighten my cock and nestle it along her slit.
She held my cock between her thighs and squeezed them together. "Mm,"
she said. In a moment she began running a finger up and down the half
of my cock that stuck out between her legs. This went on for a while,
her eyes closed as we lolled on the warm mattress, and then she used a
couple of fingers to squeeze my cock and then she smeared the precum
onto my tip and made circles with her fingers. My cock throbbed
pleasurably.
She whispered, "Touch me."
I loosed one of my captured arms from her bosom and reached around
her hips to run my finger up and down her slit. She uncurled her legs
a little, lifting one and hunching her hips forward a little, and then
she closed her legs around my cock again, starting to pull on me
slowly, pulling and pulling and then just holding and squeezing, and
then pulling, and my finger found her clit and she sighed when I began
to circle it.
For a long time we played that way, and then she lifted one leg a
little and snuggled her tush into me and angled my cock into her cunt,
and I slid in, slowly, into the snug, cream-coated, marshmallow glove
of her. Her cunt sucked me into her and the strong, thick outer lips
gripped me by the root. We lay like that, not moving, while I played
with her clit. After a while I would move in and out of her now and
then, staying still and deep in her most of the time, and we went on
for nearly twenty minutes that way until I started throbbing in her.
With her eyes still closed as if dozing, she said, "Cum."
"You're not there yet."
"No, just cum when you want to."
I said, "Soon." I started moving in and out slowly.
She said, "I've never done it like this."
"Me neither."
"I'll be all right. I have all day. All day. I'm concentrating
on feeling you in me. I want to feel the cum. I want to feel the
spurts when I'm not thinking, not thinking about anything."
I went in and out a few times, not straining, and I said, "Touch
it. I'm almost there. Touch my dick where it's going in."
She put two fingers along the sides of my root, and she lay there
waiting with closed eyes while my orgasm slowly approached. I
couldn't concentrate on fingering her clit and fucking at the same
time, it was getting too good, but I kept my finger on her clit. Then
the early throbs began, and she whispered, "Mm-hm." Then the warning
pulses accelerated and she waited with closed, lazy eyes and whisp-
ered, "C'mon. C'mon. Yes. Mm, yes." Then I began panting quickly
and the tired, thin squirts started, and she smiled and murmured,
pleased, "Mmmm. Is it good?"
"Uh! Yeah!"
"Tell me."
"'T's good! Ah!"
"Mm, the sounds you make when y-- Oh!" She giggled. "Steven,
your whole body jerked."
"Yeah. Ah! Mmmmm."
"Just stay there, now. Stay there." She hugged my free arm
tighter to her breasts, which were now moist and warm. "Stay just
like that and rest."
I stopped, sweat breaking out all over me, post-orgasmic throbs
pulsing weakly in the slick tunnel. I caught my breath for a minute.
It wasn't that momentous a fuck, but it was, after all, with Martha.
I felt I had scaled the heights and then fell on my face.
She kissed my arm that was nestled in her bosom. She said, "I
like it when you're cumming and you tell me it's good."
"It did. It always feels good with you."
"I like it when you get that excited. And I figure it must be
especially good when you get excited enough to say so, because you
hardly ever talk when you have sex."
"It's not easy to talk when I'm doing all that work and trying to
breath."
"I know. That's why it's so exciting when you tell me."
I started fingering her clit again, and it took another several
minutes, but eventually the nutty, sweaty-sweet, warm milk aroma
steamed from her and she whispered fervently, "It's gonna be good!
It's gonna be good!" Then she drew in her legs a little and her head
dropped downward, as if she were trying to double up, and she hugged
my free arm to her mouth and moaning against it while she came for a
long, long time, her cunt contracting and squeezing my soft cock out
of her, and then her head fell back on the pillow, and she lay with
her eyes closed, panting and looking satisfied as hell while I kissed
her face and shoulders.
She whispered, "Put your finger in me."
I did. She was still snug from cumming but she was slick with
both of us and my finger slid right in. Her cunt hugged my finger.
She grinned and said, "God. A whole day off."
After a couple of minutes I said, "Don't you have to go to the
bathroom?
She frowned. "Oh, it's...hon, it's pretty safe right now."
"Martha."
She grumbled, "Oh, all right. Let's just wait a minute. I don't
want to move." She hugged both my arms to her bosom again, tightly,
and she nestled her hips closer to my lap. And strangely, she held
one of my hands to her mouth and she kissed it and then clasped it to
her cheek and she said, her voice inexplicably cheerless, "I don't
want to move yet. Not yet. Not just yet."
Within a few minutes she dozed off again, holding my arms tightly
against her, and I made her wake up. She got out of bed groggily and
wrapped the bath towel around her and stumbled to the bathroom.
I'd had extremely satisfying sex with either Martha or Ronnie or
both every day for the past four days. I'd live through two emotion-
ally wrenching weeks. I was tired! I dozed off again while Martha
was in the bathroom, wondering if she had been adding booze or some-
thing into her morning coffee.
Half sleep, I heard her take another shower in the kitchen. Then
I smelled coffee again. After several minutes she came into the
bedroom in a new, pale pink towel, and she had two cups of coffee with
her. She sat on the edge of the bed and handed me one.
I rose, drowsy, and I said, "I'm not supposed to drink this."
"Just today. Please. Try not to spill it on the bed."
I took the cup and sipped while she brought her legs onto the bed
and sat up, her legs folded under her. I said, "Are we supposed to go
somewhere that I forgot about?"
"No." She sipped and sipped again. "We may as well wake up,
because I'd putter around and wake you up anyway." She sipped again.
"Hurry and finish that, so I can get these cups out of here."
I took another small sip, reluctantly. I said, "Wow. You make it
strong."
She said nothing, but watched me over the top of her cup as she
sipped.
I said, "This is too hot to drink fast."
She said, "Want me to put an ice cube in it?"
I held the cup out to her, "Could you?"
She took my cup, looking at me, tilting her head and frowning,
curious and surprised. "Did you see what you just did?"
I smiled sleepily at her. "No. Did you?"
"You did it again!"
"What?"
She laughed, beside herself, still looking at me. "Why, you
little sophisticate. So blas , aren't you? Your hands behind your
head, hair on your legs and chest, just sitting there looking like the
gorgeous guy you're growing up to be, and you're already doing it."
I insisted, "Doing what?"
She imitated me, as if handing my cup to someone. "'Oh, yes!
*Could* you? On the rocks, please. One rock.' Look at you, I was
afraid you'd be one of those educated, irritable, ambitious types that
throws women around like paper clips." She handed me her own coffee
cup, and kept mine, and scooted backward on the bed, her voice mildly
scornful. "Oh, not you. You're not going to be a ladies' man, hon,
*you*'re gonna be a snob. You're going make your women think you're
doing all the work, then you're going to run them to death catering to
you."
I said defensively, "I don't want to be catered to."
"Of course not! You're so independent. That's why people
*insist* on catering to you in so many subtle ways. It makes them
feel necessary."
I sighed, leaning back limply. "All this for an ice cube? It's
probably cool enough to drink by now."
"What a snob." She slithered off the bed, keeping the big towel
around her torso and hips, and I watched her hurry off, watched that
gentle swing of her hips and the dancer-like, graceful gait. No
wonder the only thing most men could see of Martha was her body.
I heard her quickly crack open an ice tray, saying to herself,
"Passive aggressive. Why didn't I *see* that? Why didn't Martha
*see* that?" I heard an ice cube being plunked into the coffee cup,
and hasty stirring, then she closed the refrigerator.
She returned, slid onto the bed, took her cup, gave me mine, and
watched silently as I drank it down in three or four loud gulps.
"Finished?" she asked.
I handed her the cup and nodded. She hopped off the bed and
placed the two cups on the dresser, and I asked, "Is there going to
be an opportunity for me to ask questions about what's going on?"
She said innocently, "Nothing's going on." She sat up with her
legs folded under her and fluffed her wet hair with one hand. "But
class can have a question period."
I thought for a minute. "I just have a general question. Are you
up to something?" I shrugged. "I don't have anything more specific
right now."
"I do."
I put a hand over my eyes. "Oh, god. I'm too tired."
She grinned. "No, these are easy." She hopped out of the bed,
almost losing the towel, and she tightened it around her. While she
stood at her dressing table collecting her cigarettes and lighter and
an ash tray, she asked me, "What were you smiling about this morning?"
"What?" I propped up my pillow behind my head.
She sat on the bed again and she lit her cigarette, with her
ashtray on her lap.
I said, "You never smoke in bed."
"Just today. You're here to keep me safe." She took a drag and
blew it out. "I got up early this morning and showered and made break-
fast, read a little, and when I came back here I got back into bed.
And while I was waiting for you to wake up you were smiling and ended
up with that terrific erection."
"Oh."
"Were you dreaming?"
"Mm."
"Okay, the next question is: what were you dreaming about that
made you smile that?"
"Uh, tryin' to remember......You."
"You really expect me to believe that?"
"Mm-hm."
"Well...I don't."
"You were in the Lauderdale Courts, in your old apartment, and you
were helping Ronnie do something in the bedroom. Sewing, or some-
thing. You were showing her something, and Ronnie seemed to act like
your mother."
"You made that up."
"Nope."
She paused. "You have it wrong. I'm the mother. Ronnie's my
daughter."
"Okay," I said, turning onto my side, "Next time I have that
dream, I'll get it straight."
She blew out a thin stream of smoke. "That's why Ronnie's the
only female who ever kissed my nipples."
I didn't say anything. What could I say to that?
Martha reminded me, "You saw her do that, right? When we were
together?"
"Mm."
"Steven, don't grunt. Talk."
"Yes, I remember. That's what 'Mm' means. It means yes. It
means I agree. It means --"
"Okay, okay." She gave a little smirk, almost to herself, mutter-
ing absently as she flicked ashes in the ash tray, "Listen to you.
I'm not talking to little Steven anymore, I have to start watching
myself." She went on, "Ronnie's the only female who's ever done that.
I can't imagine ever letting anyone else do that. You, of course.
Oh, you know what I mean."
I said, patiently, purposely, "Mm."
She paused again. She asked quietly, "So what did you think when
you saw that?"
"Think?"
"About me."
I sighed. Such questions were far too difficult for my young,
sleepy mind. "Well...I thought it was very loving. Affectionate.
Exciting, too. I thought it was nice."
She paused again, holding her hand in front of her face and idly
using one finger to scrape at one of her pretty, painted nails.
"There's no one else that I could possibly talk to about that."
"Well. If you didn't like it, why not talk to Ronnie about it?
Or just stop her from doing it?"
"That's not what I asked."
"What did you ask?"
She turned her beautiful, hazel green eyes onto me with a warning
light. "Steven, this is important to me."
"I understand. I do. What did you ask?"
"I asked what you thought about me when you saw it."
I shrugged. "I didn't think about you, y'know, not just *you*. I
saw both of you. Together. I thought it was a sweet thing to do and
it was very sexy."
She let her head drop, bending over until her forehead touched the
mattress. "Oh. The Catholic kid from Memphis didn't go into shock.
Steven didn't go into shock."
I said, "Actually, I don't think you and Ronnie should do that
while you're on Second Avenue waiting for the bus. But I thought it
was very loving. And sexy."
She laughed quietly. She settled down and straightened up, and
then she said slowly and seriously, her eyes on me, "Steven, do you
realize how much we've shared sexually? More than most married
people. I shared more of me with you than with any man, far more.
Even more than with Ronnie."
"I realize that."
"You know more about women at fifteen than a dozen guys learn in a
lifetime. But I think, you know, that you have the intelligence, the
sensitivity..." She trailed off, frowning, and stopped with another
long, nervous sigh. "I'm wandering again."
I sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "All right. You've been
making me a little nervous all morning. Maybe it's all that strong
coffee you had. What is it I'm supposed to be giving back, here? I
mean, what are you getting at?"
"What I'm getting at is...I love Ronnie, I love her sweetness and
her talent and her brains. I liked..." She gazed away, toward the
window, a long breath of exasperation leaving her. For a moment she
spoke as if to herself, her voice a distant murmur. "It was like it
is with you. You and me. The pure, erotic pleasure of it. Forbid-
den. Irresponsible. Wicked and irresponsible." She came back to
earth, looking down at me. "Our experience together, you and I, is
unique. And our experience with Ronnie is unique."
"Yes."
"Don't ever..." She looked down, thinking. I waited. She raised
her head again. "No matter how much you love a woman or want her,
Steven, even if you love her very, very much, don't accept her if she
can't accept you sexually. Perhaps the way that you need her and
please her will be different from the way you want and please me, or
Ronnie. It's just our chemistry, I guess, our chemistry *together*.
But if a woman can't accept you sexually, stay away from her. If you
don't, you'll grow to hate her. And she'll destroy you, the way your
family almost did before you got here."
I looked at her, and she eyed me steadily, her face a little
tense. I said reassuringly, "That choice of a woman wouldn't be at
all like you. I wouldn't want her anyway."
"Steven..."
I broke in, firmly, "She'd be as much like you as possible."
She insisted, "Steven, I won't be in Memphis. Neither will
Ronnie. Damn, I wish I had some resources, I wish you were old enough
and skilled enough to make the kind of money you need to stay away
from there, but -- I'm trying to tell you that I think --" She
stopped and took a deep breath, and flicked her ashes in the ash tray.
"I'm trying to say that I think...I'm...I'm trying to say that I often
think I'm very wrong, spoiling you sexually the way I have. And
continuing to do it and do it --"
I began, a little irritably, "Are you going to start tell -- ?"
"Let me finish." She said more gently, "Let me finish. You see,
the problem is that I've spoiled myself, too. And Ronnie. Because I
couldn't say no. I couldn't say no to myself, to you, or to her. It
was too good, it was too...tempting. Beautiful. I seriously doubt
that anyone could please me as you do, and I seriously doubt that I
could please anyone so freely as the way I please you. But, hon, if
you were in another situation, like...like marriage, or some kind of
formal, committed arrangement you'd have another party involved. They
might not agree with everything you desire. They might be more pos-
sessive, or squeamish about a lot of things. If you were with someone
else, that would have to be part of the relationship. If you make
promises, you have to keep your word. And you can't resent the other
party for it. You'd have to --" She sighed and put a hand over eyes,
muttering absently, "I don't know, I don't know, I can't plan things
like that, but..." She took a drag and said quickly, "Let me finish,
now, just --" She blew smoke. "You know, when you came here, the
first day, you were supposed to be sleeping on the sofa, not sleeping
in here. Ronnie and I spent a whole afternoon fixing up that sofabed
in there. But when I saw how you were and who you were, it was -- it
was exactly like it was when I woke up this morning. I woke up this
morning and you were so strong, and fresh, and beautiful, and real,
and...I let myself go, I just --" She waved a hand in the air and
shook her head. "-- I just let go, and I did the thing I always do,
I just...go crazy with you."
She paused, and started again quickly, her voice dropping about
two octaves, and it had a crack in it. And I thought to myself oh
shit, here she goes!
And she went on, precisely, clearly, one word at a time, her voice
getting tight and wobbly, "I am trying to tell you what you told
me...last night. I am trying to tell you...that..." The edges of her
eyes turned red. "No matter what happens..." Her head dropped and
she put her hand over her eyes. Her chin trembled, but she held back,
shaking her head. She breathed deeply, getting calm. "God, I stay so
logical, right to the end. Then I -- " She shook her head no, and
calmed down a little more.
I sat up, saying firmly, "All right, now. Come on, let me have
that cigarette and stuff. Come on." I took the cigarette from her
hand while she remained silent, her head lowered to her chest, one
hand cupped over her eyes. I got to my feet with her smoking stuff
and set it on the dressing table, and then I got back onto the bed on
my knees behind her, and I held her shoulders and pulled her against
my chest, wrapping my arms around her.
I said, "All right, look -- This is your vacation."
She said under her breath, rubbing her forehead nervously with the
hand that covered her eyes. "Dammit."
"No, no, we're not going to do this. No speeches. No crying. No
confessions, no worry, no work. We have what we have right now. We
don't know what we'll have later, or not have. We don't know any-
thing about that."
"I know, but I'm --"
"Did you bring me to New York just so we could go through this
every day?"
"No." She took another deep breath and raised her face, and her
arms hugged the arms that were around her. "Among other things, I
brought you here to help you learn to control your emotions. I think
you can see that I don't teach well by example."
"Hey, you're the grown-up around here, I'm the kid. I'm the one
who's supposed to be in distress half the time."
She scoffed, sniffling, "Oh, you were never a kid. The war and
your family made an old man out of you before you were five years old.
Neither of us were ever kids. We never had a chance. And I didn't
help." She was using an edge of the towel to dry her eye. "And you
have to go back so soon..."
"Here, wait a minute..." I held her still with one hand while I
reached for the kleenex on the table near the bed and handed her one,
mumbling aloud to myself, "Every time I'm nice to somebody, I guess I
need to bring kleenex along." Martha laughed quietly at that, and I
let her lean her back and her head against me again.
I said firmly, my own voice getting a little shaky, "Now, listen,
you stop this." I reached a hand around her and wagged my finger at
her. As I spoke, I couldn't believe I was wagging a parental finger
at Martha!
"Just stop it. We're not going to spend all day doing this. I
can't figure things out too well if I'm going to hang around here with
you being upset. You told me to start believing. I told you I would.
I told you: 'whatever happens.' Now, give me some time to get to the
next step before you start going crazy on me."
She gave me a pained smile, whining, "But it took you so long to
get this far!" She put the kleenex to her nose and gave it a little
honk. She grumbled, "Stubborn. You get me so worked up waiting for
you, I fall apart when we get there." She hugged my arms to her,
tightly, settling down. She said ironically, "You were so fearful
when you came here. Now listen to you. I can't believe you're
talking like this.
"Yeah, well, you can thank Ronnie for that. She put an awful lot
of time and effort into stuffing a little sense into me. And you can
thank yourself."
"Ronnie." Martha smiled, shaking her head. "Ronnie. Dear
Ronnie. I'm so glad for Ronnie." She dabbed at her eye for the last
time and pitched the wadded kleenex away. She leaned back limply,
breathing out as if all of the bad stuff were leaving her at once.
"Oh, god. What a crabby, sentimental bitch."
"You can crab any time you want. But I think you oughtta start
warning me."
She rubbed my arms. "I want you to be strong, Steven. Strong on
your own. Not mean. Strong."
"I'm getting' there. I guess." I kissed her neck. "But you know,
you're wrong about me never being a kid. I go all the way back there,
every time you touch me."
She complained gently, "Oh, Steven, don't -- damn you, don't keep
saying things like that." She brought both my hands to her lips and
kissed them.
I chided her, "All this drama didn't do any good. I still love
you."
She whimpered, holding my hands together tightly, and she turned
around and leaned away from me, smiling, and took off her towel. She
lay back, her hands behind her head, and she stretched her legs out,
and lay naked and open in front of me, raising her pussy provocative-
ly. She said, "You didn't take a shower. Go take one. Get nice and
clean and smelling like soap, and shave your face and do all that
stuff. Come back here and lay down on top of me. Nekkid."
I sighed, "Does class get a break sometime soon?"
"Come back in here and let me hold you as tight as I can while we
take another nap."
The position of the beam of late afternoon sunlight that slanted
through the bedroom window told me that it was about five thirty PM.
The phone rang in the living room for the third time that afternoon.
Martha was on top of me, my dick in her, and she was gasping after a
long orgasm.
She panted, "Don't answer it!"
I said, "That's the third time."
She said, "No! Don't answer it. I'm gonna cum again!"
I said, "Martha, I can't cum any more, anyway."
"I'll get you there."
"If this is gonna go on all day, I'd better hold back. I won't be
able to just keep cumm--"
"All right," she gasped, starting to rub her clit against my shaft
again. "Shh. Just let me cum, then. Let me cum again."
I opened my mouth, but she covered it with hers in a long kiss
that lasted until the telephone stopped ringing.
A little before seven, I still hadn't climaxed. Martha lay beside
me on her tummy, exhausted from her third climax on top of me. The
telephone rang again. I started to sit up.
Martha lifted an arm and held me down, grinning languorously. She
whispered, "No."
"Martha, the phone has been ringing all day."
"No."
"Aren't you hungry?"
"You go eat. Then come back."
"You know, I really think we ought to change the sheets. And take
showers. We're a mess."
"Mmm. Okay, guess you're right. Come on, then. Help me up."
"Help you up? Who's gonna help me up?"
"Well, let's help each other."
We both struggled to sit up in the bed. Martha gave me a kiss and
I licked one of her tits.
Martha got to her feet beside the bed and stood there for a few
seconds. "You're right. I'm a mess. Maybe I could use one of those
drinks you make. Can I? Can you make one for both of us?"
She lent me a hand getting to my feet on her side of the bed. I
stretched, groaning. I looked at her as she picked her bath towel off
the floor. I embraced her, holding her close, and she molded her
warm, sweaty body against mine.
I said, "You still feel good."
"After all this? I told you, you still won't be able to stand me
by the end of the day. You're already getting grouchy."
"Wrong. But I am getting a little sore down there."
She rested her head on my shoulder. "Me too." She kissed my
neck. She whispered, "You can use your mouth. And I can use mine.
I can make my mouth nice and soft for you. I like my making my mouth
wet and soft when you're hard. I could do it really slow so you c--"
Someone knocked at the door.
Martha groaned. "Oh, no. Who the heck could that be?"
From her front door we heard Ronnie call softly, "Martha?
Steven?" She knocked again.
Martha called out, "Hold on, Ronnie! Be right there." She
wrapped the towel around herself and started for the living room. I
ran into the bathroom and grabbed one of Martha's thin bathrobes off
the hook on the door and stood in the hall, facing the front door as
Martha opened it.
Ronnie came in, wearing a skirt and heels and makeup, complaining,
"Martha, you're here? What's the matter, is your phone on the fritz
or have you been gone all day? I called three --" She gaped at
Martha and the pink towel, and Martha grinned and blushed and hid her
face behind her hand, her auburn hair a wild mop on her head. Then
Ronnie looked at me, still gaping, and she frowned and put a hand on
one hip. She said wryly, "Don't tell me."
"Ronnie," Martha said, still blushing, closing the door. "I've
been...we've been doin' it."
Ronnie said, "I called you guys three times! Where've you been?"
"Well..." Martha brushed hair from her face. "We've been here."
I cleared my throat and walked across the living room toward the
kitchen. "'Scuze me, I have to make something to eat. I'm having
stomach cramps from hunger."
Ronnie said, "It's so hot in here. It smells like you've been
doing it all day, you're both so sweaty."
"Well," Martha began, smiling. She smoothed back her hair again,
and glanced at Ronnie, and blushed again, like a teenager.
Ronnie said dryly, "I'll be damn. And you talk about me on the
beach." Ronnie sighed and started for the door. "Well, I wanted to
call Steven about something, so I thought I'd check before I left, in
case your phone was just dead again, but -- " She gave Martha a
smirk. "You look ridiculous. I thought only Steven blushed like
that."
Martha said, "Wanna stay here?"
I thought: Oh, shit, I'm already worn out. I almost dropped my
jar of brewer's yeast.
Ronnie said, "I have a date in ten minutes."
"He won't mind."
"Martha, I can't do that to him. What is up, woman? You look
crazy. Steven, you both look crazy." She glanced around. "You two
smokin' dope in here?"
Martha said, "Ronnie, I owe you a favor."
"For what? Come on, I gotta get goin'. He'll show up in a min-
ute, and I can see the stupid look on my own face when I think about
what I was looking at just before he got here."
"Come up after your date. Stay here."
"After?" She looked at Martha. She looked at me, then back at
Martha.
Martha said, "If you don't get back too late."
Ronnie shook her head ruefully. "All right, all right, let me get
outta here." She put her hand on the front door knob. "I mean, I
don't know what this guy has on his mind -- Well, I can *guess* what's
on his mind, but -- Oh, Ronnie, shut up and go downstairs." She went
out the door, peeking back in to say, "See you later. Midnight, or
something. Okay?"
Martha closed the door behind Ronnie and locked it. She said to
me as she walked to the shower, "Steven, I hope you don't mind." She
let the towel drop to the floor and stepped into the stall. "I
wanted her with us, just tonight."
I shrugged, stirring my super-duper protein shake. "Okay with me,
but...I am kinda sore, you know."
She turned on the water and extended a hand inside to test the
temperature, smiling back at me. "I'll be very careful. Anyway, we
can just talk. We have all weekend."
I mumbled to myself, "Maybe I need more than one of these
drinks."
She said from under the pouring water, "Make one for me, too."
"You know, you're not gonna like this stuff."
"Well, make one. I'll try it. Maybe it'll wake me up." She
turned toward me under the spray. "You look cute in my robe."
"Not as cute as you do." I took a couple of swigs of my drink and
set it on the kitchen counter and dropped the robe off me and stepped
into the stall with Martha. I draped my arms around her waist.
I said, "Martha, you're -- " I stopped, looking at her, feeling
her tight waist in my hands.
She grabbed the soap off the plastic shelf hanging from the shower
spout and smiled at me playfully. "I'm what?"
"You're the most beautiful, sweetest, kindest, most passionate,
sexiest, smartest --"
"Want me to wash your cock?"
"No! No soap. I'll do it. Soap will really irritate it."
"I know. I'm sore, too, a little." She bent her knees, opening
her legs a little to swab soap around her groin.
I said, "Anyway, you've already made me crazy."
"Yes? How crazy?"
"Very crazy."
She eyed me mischievously, water running down her face. "How very
crazy?"
"Very, very crazy."
Rubbing the bar of soap in her hands, she grinned at me, a
scrunchy, girlish grin. She whispered, "Good." She soaped my chest
while I soaped hers. She said, her voice lowering, "I don't know if
Ronnie told you, but when I first met her I was running around with
her and her Beat crowd...Did she tell you?"
"This sounds like this is supposed to be a really big secret that
the faculty at Columbia isn't supposed to know about."
"Oh, no, they're all crazy, too. Really crazy. They're crazier
than either of us."
I let my fingers gently soap her nipples. "Do you feel really,
really, really crazy?"
Her eyes darkened sensuously. She put her lips near mine. Water
sprayed all over us. She whispered, "Yes."
I said, "I like washing your nipples."
She got her hands soapy again and watched my lips. She put her
soapy fingers on my nipples and squeezed. "I like washing yours,
too." She made bigger slick circles on me. "I like washing your
titties."
"Me too." I began soaping around and around on her breasts.
She smiled. "Wash my titties, hon."
"You're beautiful, Martha."
Her gaze seemed to dissolve into mine. "Steven, you've so seldom
let yourself say that. The way you said it just now. I was beginning
to wonder if you'd ever tell me what you really think and let yourself
feel it when you say it. And just feel. You're taking me by urprise,
you know, it's all coming out of you at once." She gave a little
laugh. "I'll have to get used to this."
"You're lovely. You're really lovely."
Her eyes were getting a little glassy. Her hands moved lower,
lower. "Want me to wash your navel?"
"Yeah. Can I wash yours?"
"Yes." She rubbed soap around my navel, and I did the same to
hers. She said, "Does that tickle?"
"Not the way you're doing it."
"Wet and slippery, like that?"
"Yeah, that's good."
Her hands went lower.
I said, "Watch out, now. It's sore, right there where it comes
out of my tummy."
"I'll be careful." She soaped her hands. She watched my eyes and
I watched hers. She said, "Is the tip sore?"
"No."
With two fingers, she squeezed and caressed my glans. "You get so
hard, but the tip's so soft and spongy."
I gulped. "I like washing your clit." My fingers stroked her
slit and found her nub.
While she tweaked my tip she whispered, "Yes. Oh."
"Ahhh."
"Steven." She swallowed hard. "Remember how we...used to be in
the Courts? A long time ago? In the Courts?"
"Yes. Nasty."
"Yes. Mmm. Do you want to do that?. I want to look at that
picture of us. Do you want to? Do you want to look at it and remem-
ber and...be that way again?"
Yes."
"Good." Her eyes closed for a moment. "Oh, Steven. That feels
so good."
"Martha...you're...it's getting me crazy."
"No. We started out that way. We were always like this. Both of
us. We were born this way."
We were in the shower until we used all the hot water. I finished
my protein drink. Martha could only handle a quarter of hers, so I
finished it for her and she ate some leftover salad. She smoked
cigarettes and ate and looked at the picture of us taken in the
Lauderdale Courts, and we talked about some of our memories. We
changed the sheets on the bed. We knelt by the bedroom window and
watched people going by in the dark street for a while. We lit
candles all over the apartment. We got into bed naked and I lay on
top of her and we went to sleep that way. After an hour's nap we
began touching and kissing, and whispering, whispering our words,
inflaming our minds with the words and the memories. We were both too
tired to have intercourse or to have orgasms. But we couldn't stop.
Neither of us could let go of it.
PART 18B:
It was a little after eleven Friday night. Martha lay atop me,
her hips over my face, her head over my cock. She ran her tongue
around my glans, slowly, around and around, and I licked her tush and
licked downward along the round muscles and onto the back of her
thighs and then toward her pussy and along the rim of her slit, up
and down, and she moaned, "Ahh. Steven." Her mouth enclosed my tip,
and then slid down, down.
I sighed hotly, "God. Martha."
Her mouth moved up and then off me, and she said, "Mmmm. Good?"
"Yes!"
We had been doing that for almost half an hour, licking, sucking,
tempting lazily without peaking. I would lick Martha's outer lips and
slither my tongue around it, avoiding her clit, and she licked and
licked me everywhere, now and then tantalizing me with a single, slow
suck, and then licking again.
I stuck out my tongue and made slow licks up her slit, again,
again, again.
"Oh, Steven! Oh."
I sucked her clit.
"Ah! Oh god."
The phone rang in the living room.
Martha groaned, her head dropping to my thigh. "It can't be her."
I let my head fall back to the pillow. "Maybe it is."
"Oh, well..."
I sat up. Martha rolled off me with a moan. I jumped from the
bed and hurried into the living room, clumsily bumping against walls
and door frames.
Still breathless, I picked up the phone. "Hello?"
Ronnie said, "What the hell are two doing up there?"
I glanced at the clock on the table by the door. "It's only
eleven fifteen. Where are you?"
"I'm home."
"Martha says to come on up."
"Sure you two don't wanna be alone?"
"She says she wants you to come up. I want you to come up."
"What's up?"
I looked down at my hard cock poking into the air. I felt like a
giddy, lascivious pig. I was trying to think up something clever to
say when Ronnie answered her own question.
"Are you two still at it?"
"We're waiting for you."
"God. All right. Be right there."
"Good."
Ronnie hung up. I started across the dimly lighted living room,
pausing to check the candle on the table by the door. I felt blood
rush out of my head, making me dizzy. I'd been in bed too long. My
knees were creaky. I wanted more.
Martha called weakly from the bedroom. "Steven?"
"Yes."
"Where is she?"
"She's coming up,"
"Unlock the door for her. Hon, can you bring a glass of water?"
"Okay."
I released the lock on the front door and went to the kitchen and
got a glass from the overhead cabinet and turned on the spigot. I
waited for the glass to fill, my head back, neck aching, still catch-
ing my breath, thinking: God I want more, I want more of that woman,
more. More.
Back to the candlighted bedroom, carrying a tall glass of water.
Martha lay face down, splayed across the bed, one arm hanging off the
edge. I stood by the edge of the bed. Her arm lifted weakly, and she
touched my leg.
I said, "Water."
"Good." She sat up, one leg folded in front of her. She brushed
hair from her face. She was breathless, looking tiredly frenzied, but
beautiful. "My mouth is so dry." She took the glass. While she
drank I walked around the bed and got in on the other side, leaning
back against the headboard.
Martha put the glass on her night table and sighed wearily, sweep-
ing her hair back on both sides, and she looked at me and laughed,
embarrassed. "Steven. My god."
I breathed a laugh of my own. "Yes."
She crawled toward the headboard and sat beside me. She leaned
back, her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open. "Oooh, what *are*
we doing?"
"I don't care."
She gave another weak, tired, happy laugh. "Oh, I don't either.
Not anymore. I can't control myself any more." She sighed again,
murmuring dreamily, "Everyone thinks I'm so disciplined, so competent
and responsible. I don't care. I can't change the world anymore. I
don't want to anymore. I don't even want to have an orgasm. I just
want to stay here. Like this."
I heard the front door click and then creak open, then close, then
someone slowly crossing the room in heels. Martha and I both waited,
sitting against the headboard and looking at the bedroom doorway.
Ronnie appeared, still dressed in her skirt, blouse and heels.
She saw us and leaned against the door frame, her head wagging slowly,
smiling ruefully, one palm against her cheek. She looked at us. She
breathed, "Good lord."
Martha and I chuckled.
Martha said, "Come on in."
Ronnie sauntered slowly into the room, her head still wagging.
"Have you two really been here all day?"
"Yes," Martha said, grinning at her.
"You look like it, too." With one hand Ronnie leaned against the
wall, slipping her heels off with one foot and then the other. "You
look like you've been mating in your cage all day like two horny
gerbils."
Martha said. "You're a little early. What happened?"
"Oh, nothing. It was okay. I think the guy's married."
Martha asked, "This is the one you met at the party?"
Ronnie stood at the end of the bed, unbuttoning her blouse. "No.
Somebody else. Nice guy, though."
I asked, "What makes you think he's married?"
"He won't give me his phone number. He gives me his office
number."
Martha said, "Uh-oh. Ronnie..."
"Yeah. Eh, it's all right. He's nice. He hasn't tried anything.
I think he just wants a friend to go out with." Ronnie looked at
Martha with a gentle, amused smirk while she undid the buttons on her
sleeves. "Martha, you look like you did the night you partook of the
weed."
"Oh, I never smoked that stuff."
"Sure. Remember?"
"It's not really true. And don't tell Steven that story."
"Steven, Martha smoked this stuff one night, long time ago, at a
party in a coffee house. She had no idea what this stuff was, and why
she didn't is a mystery, because the guy sitting at the table sat
there and rolled the thing right in front of us. You know, it was
just a whole group there. Dropouts. Poets. Some people from Colum-
bia." Ronnie removed her blouse and draped it across the back of the
chair in front of the dressing table.
"I didn't smoke it, Ronnie."
While she removed her earrings she said, "One puff. She had one
puff. And the room was full of it, too, the air was loaded with it.
Down in the Village. You know, a weird, angry poet hangout." She
dropped her earrings on the dressing table. She unzipped her skirt.
"Personally, I can't even stand the odor of that stuff, it makes me
want to throw up." She pulled her skirt down and off, and then pulled
the straps of her slip off her shoulders and pulled her slip down and
off, still smiling at Martha. "But Martha has one little puff, and
she wanders all over the room looking as if she were in dreamland.
She had the silliest damn look on her face you ever saw. From one
puff."
I glanced at Martha. She was smiling, head down, blushing.
Ronnie reached down to unhook her hose. "You have the same silly
smile on your face right now. Made me think you'd gone and done it
again."
Martha said quietly, "No. Steven and I were getting dark."
"Mmm." Ronnie lifted a foot onto the end of the bed and rolled
down her hose. I was getting hard watching her. "Getting dark, huh?"
She glanced at me. "Getting dark?"
I nodded, smiling.
Ronnie murmured to herself, lifting the other foot onto the bed
and rolling down the hose, "Martha getting dark. Well, now..." She
laid her hosiery across the chair and a sly little smile was on her
face as she turned to look at us again. "Well." She unhooked her bra
and daintily dropped it behind her. The contours of her little tits
glimmered in the candlelight. "Martha, you look like you've snapped.
Steven does too. You both have these looks on your faces. You both
look positively..." She unhooked her garter belt from behind and
dropped it on the chair, then she slipped her panties halfway down and
bent to pull them over her feet, and she stood at the end of the bed,
trim and naked. She gave a dry little laugh, brushing hair from her
face. "You both just look strange."
Martha smiled at her. "Strange?"
"I don't know, you just --" Ronnie put one knee on the bed. She
said laughingly, "You both just look so strange."
"What's the matter?"
"Oh, nothing." She settled onto the bed in front of us, her legs
folded under her. "I feel like I just walked into the middle of the
movie or something." She indicated Martha's cigarettes on the night
table. "Can I have one?"
Martha fetched a cigarette and the lighter. "Sure."
Ronnie said, "I left mine downstairs." She lit up and handed
Martha the lighter. "Better give me that ash tray." Martha fetched
the ash tray and Ronnie put it on the mattress near her knees and she
glanced around. "Well, I see you didn't wreck any furniture yet."
I said, "We changed the sheets and everything."
"Changed the sheets? Well. Then Martha hasn't completely
snapped. Not completely." She squeezed my knee. "Hi."
I said, "Hi, Ronnie."
Ronnie looked down to flick her ashes, and she looked up at
Martha, and Martha and Ronnie gave each other that secretive glance
again, and Martha whispered to her, "Hi."
Ronnie sniggered. "Martha, you're nuts. I told you, get out of
Columbia, that job's making you very, very peculiar."
"It's not that. It's just been very nice today with Steven."
Martha rested her arms behind her head. "Very dark."
Ronnie said, "Well, something's up. You don't usually call it
dark. I'm the one who always calls it dark. You always call it
something else, not dark. You like more graphic words from your
puritanical Southern past."
"I know."
"You never called it dark before."
"I know," Martha said again, looking at Ronnie.
Ronnie said, "But dark is...different."
Martha repeated, softly, "I know,".
I said, "What are you two talking about?"
Ronnie chuckled. "It's our special language, see. I call it
dark. Martha calls it something else. Wicked. But they're differ-
ent."
"How?"
Ronnie thought momentarily, her eyes on mine. "Wicked is more
physical. Earthy. Hot. Dark is romantic. Sublime. More of an idea
than an act. More spontaneous. It depends on your mood. It's a
different mood altogether." She glanced at Martha. "I tend to be
dark. Martha tends to be wicked." She glanced at Martha again and
she smiled. She crushed out her cigarette and got off the bed and
smiled, carrying the ash tray to the night table. She said, "Right
now Martha just looks wicked." She stood by the bed and raised her
arms, sweeping back her wavy hair. I looked at her naked body, her
breasts spreading with her raised arms and the little nipples like
currants. The bottom of her soft patch near her slit glistened with
tiny pearls of light from the candle.
Martha said, "Stay with us tonight."
"What? You did this all day, and now all night?"
Martha laughed softly. "No, we'll sleep too. Sleep with us.
Steven has a week, Ronnie. We have a week."
Ronnie said quietly, unsmiling. "I know. So that's it."
I said to Ronnie, "Wanna spend the night? We missed you today."
Ronnie glanced at me, smiling. "I'll bet you did."
Martha said, "Ronnie?"
Ronnie said, "Well, god, it's already nearly midnight." She
shrugged. "Sure. Lemme go to the bathroom." She turned and on her
way out of the room she said, "Why not? She's crazy, he's crazy, I'm
crazy. We're all crazy."
She went to the bathroom, then Martha went, and then I went, and
all of us took a quick, cooling shower in the kitchen and stumbled
over each other in the little stall, and then we all got into bed
together,
About half an hour later, I was licking Ronnie's pussy while she
hovered over me, her mouth moving in small circles on the tip of my
dick. Martha lay on her tummy beside us.
Martha said, "Now, careful, he has that sore spot."
"Mm," Ronnie said, and she slid her mouth down about three quart-
ers of my length.
I moaned, my mouth against her cunt. "Nnnh. Oh. Ah!" It was
the first time she had put her mouth around me in several minutes.
Martha had instructed her in what we'd been doing before Ronnie's
arrival.
Martha told her, "Now just hold him, Ronnie. Hold him right
there."
I took a couple of long breaths and then licked Ronnie's fuzz-
lined, delicate slit upward, slowly. Fitfully, Ronnie whimpered with
my dick in her mouth.
Martha said, "Now suck up. Slow, now. Slow," and Ronnie's mouth
moved upward while she whimpered, upward, very slowly, and I grit my
teeth and groaned despairingly, "Ah, god," and then I started licking
around the perimeter of Ronnie's slit, up and down, up and down.
Ronnie let her mouth slide all the way up, tightening at my tip,
and she let go of me with a wet gasp. She breathed in a heated
frenzy, "Steven. Jesus! Oh. OH! C'mon, you're drivin' me crazy.
Get my clit. My clit. C'mon!"
I said, "Not yet."
She moaned, "Oooh, god!"
Martha said, "Don't torture her, Steven. She's not used to it
the way we are."
I put my lips around Ronnie's clit.
"Ooohhhh! Yes!"
I sucked.
"Aaahhhhh."
I sucked again.
"Nnnh! Ohbaby! Oh!"
Martha told Ronnie, "That sounded wicked, Ronnie. Not dark."
I let go of Ronnie's clit and licked her slit and then licked
toward her tush's crack, and then up and down it.
Ronnie said breathlessly, "Oh, Martha, you think too much. Mmp!
Steven! Oh ffffuck!"
Martha chuckled, sitting up to kiss Ronnie's shoulder as Ronnie
trembled high on her outstretched arms, her hips twitching over my
face and her back arching while I licked her round, soft tush.
Ronnie gasped, "This is what you've been doing all day? No wonder
you're both so weird!"
Martha said, "But it's good."
"God, yes!"
"Didn't you ever do it this way before?"
"Not this way. Not this long." My tongue started toward her
pussy again, and she tensed, waiting. She said, "God, here he goes
again. Go on. Steven. Go on. Go! You're driving me crazy. Mmm.
Oh. OH! Oh, c'mon, Steven, lick it. Lick it! God! Make me cum!"
My tongue went straight to her clit and lathered it slowly.
"Oooh, yes! MMM, yeah. Yeah!"
I began licking her slit up and down.
Ronnie hissed, "No! Lemme cum! Let me cum!"
I gathered her clit into my lips again and started sucking and
licking it.
"Ooooh! Don't stop, now, don't stop! Don't stop. Oh, I've never
been on the -- uhn! -- on the edge this long. I'm gonna go crazy!"
Martha kissed Ronnie's temples and neck and shoulders. She
whispered, "It's okay, hon. You're gonna cum, it's okay."
I sucked and licked faster, the way I knew Ronnie liked it.
She lowered her head, her body getting taut. She whispered
seethingly, "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Faster. Yeah. Yeeaaah. Oh!...
Ohgod. Oh here it comes here it comes. Oh...Oh." She held her
breath for a few seconds and she gasped "Oh god!" and held her breath
again and gasped loudly "Oh god!" and held her breath longer, and then
she moaned hoarsely, "Oh god...," and then she started cumming, whimp-
ering every few seconds. Martha kissed her cheek and crooned, "Yes,
Ronnie. Oh, it's so good, yes," and Ronnie whimpered again, complete-
ly helpless, "Oh!...Oh!" Then her head rose, her eyes shut tight,
her mouth open as if amazed and she gushed a loud moan, "OOOH, GOD!"
and her back arched for another few seconds, and then she stopped
cumming, her breath leaving her with a gasped "Jesus!' and then her
back slumped, and I licked her tenderly and she began to breathe
again, panting, her arms trembling.
She gasped, "Let me lie down, my arms are going!" She let herself
roll off me, onto her side, and she rolled onto her back, gasping for
air.
Martha knelt beside her, her knees by Ronnie's head, and she bent
to her and kissed her face and neck, and I rolled onto her, kissing
her breasts.
Ronnie's arms went around me, clasping tight. She moaned deliri-
ously, "Oooh. Oh, Steven. Oh baby, baby, baby." I held a nipple in
my mouth and pulled up, hard. "Mmmm! Ohgod! Oh stop, stop. Hold
me. Hold me a minute." I put my arms around her, and she cuddled
into me, wrapping one leg around my waist. She whispered, "Hold me.
Hold me. Hold me. Hold me." Her breath began to slow, and she began
to sigh more easily, and I kissed her hot, taut neck and Martha
stroked and kissed her shoulders.
Soon Ronnie let out a long, relieved sigh, her arms relaxing
around me.
She said in a low whisper, "Oh, my devils. My devils and my
little girl. My little girl. Oh. That was terrifying."
Martha asked her, "You like it that way? Ronnie?"
"What the hell do you think?" She panted brokenly, wiping her
forehead with one hand. "This is what you've been doing all day? No
wonder you're both sore and crazy."
"Not all day," Martha said, smiling lovingly at her and stroking
the damp hair away from Ronnie's forehead. "Just for a while. We did
other things, too." Martha extended her legs and settled onto her
tummy, her face over Ronnie's. "So how was it? Was that wicked, or
was it dark?"
"It was both," Ronnie said, opening her eyes. She gazed at Martha
for a moment, tired, her eyes seeming to contemplate something, and
then she whispered "C'mere" to Martha, and Martha said, "Hm?" and
Ronnie whispered "C'mere." Ronnie put a hand behind Martha's neck and
lowered Martha's face closer to hers. Ronnie craned her neck up and
kissed Martha's cheek and then kissed Martha's neck. And Martha
looked surprised for a moment, but she closed her eyes, and she let
Ronnie kiss her neck with soft, lingering kisses that ended with a
long, gentle lick up Martha's neck to her chin. Ronnie pulled her
head back and looked at Martha's eyes for a second, and then she
looked at me. She whispered to me, "C'mere. Bring your face here."
I rose on my elbows and she put her hand on the back of my neck and
pulled my head down. She gave me several feathery kisses along my
chin and neck, and she licked my neck, and then my chin, and she
licked my mouth. Then she kissed my mouth, holding for a second, and
she pulled back slightly and whispered, "I can taste me on you." She
She kissed me again, and the flavor of her cunt was in both our
mouths.
Then Ronnie let her head fall back and she whispered. "There.
That was dark."
For another half hour the sultry quiet of the room was broken only
by Martha's sighs and moans. I licked Martha's breasts with a loving
languor that had her arching her head back, her nipples jutting high.
After nearly twenty minutes of sucking her nipples and fingerfucking
her, I began to lick downward, down to her navel, and I licked and
kissed downward, toward her tuft and then around it. I scooted down
in the bed and settled between her legs, and she leaned her head back
and opened her thighs wide and raised her pussy to my mouth. But I
licked around it, licked her thighs near the join of thigh and groin,
and she trembled a little and breathed a soft Ahh.
Ronnie lay beside her, on Martha's right, resting on an elbow,
caressing Martha's shoulder, watching Martha's ecstatic face as Martha
swooned her head back. I let my tongue reach out and touch Martha's
slit, not moving, and Martha gave a brief "Mm" and I let my tongue
stay there, not yet moving, covering her cunt. After a few seconds of
this she smiled with her eyes shut tight and she whispered tremulously
"Oh. Yes." Then I let my tongue slide upward along her long, smooth,
wide, heated slit, and she whispered "Yes." And Ronnie smiled, watch-
ing Martha's face, and her caresses roamed lower, to Martha's breast.
Then I let my tongue slide up and down the thick-rimmed slit and
Martha's hips tightened and then relaxed, and while my tongue slid
languidly up and down and around Martha's warm orifice, Ronnie began
to kiss Martha's shoulders, her lips staying on Martha's skin. Then
Ronnie parted her lips and her tongue reached out and touched Martha's
shoulder. Then her tongue moved lower, lower, one touch at a time, an
inch and a tongue-touch at a time. While I licked Martha I watched
Ronnie's tongue creep down, toward and then over Martha's breast, and
as Ronnie's tongue moved toward the nipple my tongue made a circle
around Martha's turgid clit, and I felt a wave of pleasure course
through Martha, her cunt seeming to widen and heat up, and subtly her
pussy nudged upward and Martha gasped. While my tongue circled
Martha's clit, Ronnie's tongue circled Martha's nipple. The only
sound was Martha's slow but tense breathing, and the whisper of
Ronnie's free arm moving around the back of Martha's head and then
cradling it with her hand on Martha's other shoulder. Ronnie licked
and pressed the nipple and Ronnie's other hand held Martha's licked
breast. Then Ronnie's lips closed on the nipple and kissed, and
kissed again. My tongue stopped making circles and I pressed my
tongue's tip against the bottom of Martha's clit and pressed upward,
starting the slow vertical licking that Martha loved. Her hips
trembled briefly. And then I looked up again and saw Ronnie's mouth
kiss Martha's nipple and then close around it and suck, gently for a
moment, and Martha's whole body tightened briefly. Ronnie raised her
mouth, leaving Martha's swollen nipple shiny with spit, and then
Ronnie kissed again, and sucked. Martha's hips rose, longing, and
her clit was swollen and hot, and I kept licking lazily and then
sucked once, and Martha gasped, and she gave a quiet moan. I kept
licking.
Again Ronnie kissed and then sucked Martha's nipple, one hand
cradling Martha's sucked tit and her other hand clasping Martha's
shoulder. Then Martha began holding her breath, and I knew she would
be there before long, so I slowed my licking, and in response Martha's
whisper was a trembling, pleasure soaked "Ah Steven." Her whole body
began to tremble intermittently with her uneven breathing. Ronnie
raised her head and looked at me, smiling, and she looked at Martha's
face and she whispered, "It's good. It's getting good," and Martha
whispered feverishly, "Yes." Ronnie brought her face closer to
Martha's and whispered, "You look so beautiful when it's getting good
like that. I want to watch you enjoy it. I want to watch you feel
it." Martha uttered a muted whimper, a little, wordless cry, and her
hips gave a small jerk, and I slowed my tongue more, feeling the
vibration starting in her. Ronnie whispered, "Ah, Martha." One of
Martha's hands grasped Ronnie's hand that was on Martha's shoulder,
and she held Ronnie's tightly. Then Martha sighed joyfully, "Oh god
it's so nice!" Ronnie whispered "Yes," and she brought her lips close
to Martha's and whispered "Yes" again and then her lips touched
Martha's, just touched, barely, and Martha's body trembled and tight-
ened, and Ronnie whispered, "Yes" and her lips touched Martha's again.
Then Martha's hips rose and hung in the air and I knew her ecstasy had
arrived. I sucked the clit and licked, and Martha whispered, "Now.
Oh now!" She came, frozen, and Ronnie's fingers squeezed the nipple
and Martha's hand trembled grasping Ronnie other hand, and Ronnie
whispered, "Yes. Yes." Martha came harder, her mouth falling open
and her eyes squinting hard, and I thought my mouth could feel
Martha's clit harden and pulse, and Ronnie grinned, her eyes dark,
glittering, and she breathed, "Ahhh, it's good. I can tell. It's
good," and Martha moaned deliriously "Yes!" Then she breathed loudly,
"Ah! Ah! Uhhh! AHHH!" and Ronnie smiled and crooned "Mmmmmm" while
Martha kept cumming. Then it was over and Martha's body slackened
with a jerk and a long, slow easing. Martha gasped "Oh. Oh. Oh,"
and her grip on Ronnie's hand loosened. Ronnie bent down and sucked
Martha's nipple while Martha began to settle and come back to earth.
I let my mouth rise from her, parting with little kisses along her
damp, hot slit and tuft, and she pulled me upward by the shoulders and
I sank onto her, into the length of her hot softness, and I couldn't
hold her closely enough.
The three of us fell asleep for about half an hour. The short nap
put my brain and body into a hazy half-dream state of love and lust.
I was lying face up when I opened my eyes. Martha and Ronnie sat side
by side on the bed, talking softly and smoking cigarettes.
Martha smiled at me and said, "Well, welcome back, from wherever
you were." She gave me a little kiss.
I smiled, half drunk with tiredness and a vague need for more sex,
still needing both of them but too lethargic to do much about it. I
got out of bed and went to the bathroom, leaving them talking to-
gether.
When I returned, the candle in the bedroom had gone out, leaving
the larger candle in the living room still burning. The two women
still sat on the bed, in silhouette against the dim light from the
bedroom window, and they were talking, crushing out their cigarettes,
and as I walked back to the bed Martha was mumbling about the candle
burning out and Ronnie said, "Oh, That's all right. I like this
better, anyway."
I crawled onto the bed in a happy daze and sank onto my face.
Martha's lips skimmed across my back, and then Ronnie's smaller, thin-
ner mouth was on the back of my neck. One of them whispered something
and the other breathed a little laugh. Then I couldn't tell whose
lips belonged to who. I rolled over, onto my back, my eyes closed,
and there was a tangle of arms and legs and some soft giggles, and
then I half-opened my eyes and I saw a smiling mouth in the dark above
me. I reached up and held the back of the head that belonged to the
lips and I buried my own mouth in the other lips, sucking love. When
I let my mouth start moving down the long, warm neck I knew by feel
and odor that it was Martha's, lovely Martha's.
I began to grow alert. I wrapped my arms around Martha, who
hovered over me and lowered her head to kiss my chest. And there were
hands on my thighs, long fingers and then fingernails moving up the
inside of my left thigh, and I knew those were Ronnie's. Then it was
the two of them, Martha kissing, Ronnie touching. For long minutes
Martha kissed my mouth, tempting me with light touches of lips on
lips; and down below Ronnie teased my tip with her wet mouth until I
was rock hard. But she refused to immerse me even when I began to
moan and gasp. Outside, a squad car siren sounded, its roaring wail
shattering the mood as the car careened down distant Second Avenue.
Ronnie lifted her lips from my cock and said, "They're coming for us."
And Martha's lips sputtered against mine as she tried to keep from
laughing, and she turned to look down my torso at Ronnie, grinning at
her and sniggering, and Ronnie looked up at me and said, mildly
reproving, "That's what you get for torturing me, Steven."
I took a deep breath, smiling back at her, and said, "It won't
happen again. We're friends?"
She gave me a smirk and said, "Sure. Right." She held my cock
with one hand while she licked the tip with small, tonguing circles,
and then her mouth started down. But she moved a bit at a time, a
millimeter, a quarter inch. And Martha kept kissing me, so I was soon
panting through my nose until Martha lifted her mouth from me to allow
me to breathe, and my lungs heaved up and down. Then, with barely an
inch of me in her mouth, Ronnie began swirling her tongue around my
tip, and I closed my eyes. I whispered, "Oh god," and Martha began
moving her lips down my neck, nipping, licking. Soon Ronnie had half
of me in her and swirled her tongue again, making my head rise off the
pillow and fall again as I panted.
I looked down at Ronnie. She sat on folded legs, bent over, her
mouth around my cock and her eyes watching me. I smiled, pleading,
and said, "Ronnie. I'm sorry. I'm really very sorry." She closed
her eyes, and she let her head move farther down, and I let my head
fall back, relieved that she had most of me in her mouth now, stopping
a little above the sore spot.
Martha whispered to her, "Careful."
Ronnie said "Mm-hm" with me in her mouth. Her mouth stayed where
it was. And stayed. And stayed. I whimpered, "Oh, god." And not
moving her mouth, she let her tongue slowly snake around the tip. I
whimpered "Oh god!" again. And Martha's mouth near mine whispered,
"Good?" And I said, "Oh god!" Martha breathed a soft laugh and she
kissed my neck and her hand slid down my tummy and stopped at my root,
her fingers parting to form a V around me down there. I felt my cock
throb longingly and precum oozed out, and Ronnie's mouth clenched me a
little tighter and started up again. It was slow, slow, halfway up,
and inside her mouth Ronnie licked the precum and swallowed. Then her
head moved down. Then she began the gentle sucking and I breathed a
long, grateful Ahhh. And then she stopped, holding me deep. She
tongued until I was gasping, my hips writhing and lurching. Then five
or six slow sucks, then holding and tonguing. Then a few more soft
sucks, and holding again, and then a few sucks and holding again.
Until I almost came at the end of the third cycle and she adamantly
held me deep again, unmoving. Martha sucked my nipples and her
fingernails scraped my tummy. I was a panting, demanding, hissing
wreck, gritting my teeth, looking down at Ronnie and rasping, "Suck
it. Ronnie! Ohgod. Ronnie!" And I saw her eyes shift toward me
again, and she seemed to be smiling, her mouth round my cock making
the smile a taunting smirk, and she made a sound, a "Hm-hm-hmmm,"
laughing, and I whispered, a hard, low whisper through my teeth, "All
right. Let me cum. Let me cum!" She lowered her eyes, and she held
my dick with two fingers of one hand and her other hand began to
firmly massage the muscle below my sack, and her mouth began to move
up and down, softly, sucking, rhythmic, faster, and I dropped by head
back and I groaned, a helpless little groan.
Martha took her lips from my chest and began kissing my face, then
my lips, but I turned my mouth away, trying to breath, and she stroked
my face with her palm. Ronnie's mouth didn't stop with a few sucks,
but kept going. I moaned, getting incoherent, "God it's good! It's
close, so cl--! Uh! Oh it's good!" and I knew these were the moans
and words I'd made the women use so many times but never expected that
I would be uttering so senselessly. The pleasure inside Ronnie's
mouth was insane, demolishing. For a moment I was paralyzed; the
pleasure was boiling, ready to explode, ready just at the root of my
cock. So, so ready.
Then Ronnie's mouth went up, up, and her lips hugged my tip,
sucking as her mouth left me, and I looked down at her, wondering what
the fuck what she was doing. She glanced at me from the corners of
her eyes, taunting, and she looked at my eight inches of suffering
cock and she put her fingers around me, all the way around the wet,
spitty shaft at the root, and slowly, slowly, snugly, she pulled up,
up, and she grinned maniacally and grit her teeth and whispered
"Ahhhh," and she watched my hips rise. She hugged my leaping cock
and grit her teeth again and put her fingers around the root again and
pulled up again, breathing, "Ahhh, ahhh," and she squeezed. I sighed
in anguish, "Oh, shit!" My head fell back. I gasped helplessly,
"Ronnie! Oh! Oh god!" And she did it again with her hand, and I
felt my cock throb once, twice, again, and she squeezed and she gave a
nasty "Sssss" and then "Ahhh" again. Then her tongue was on my tip,
circling, circling, and her mouth went down, down. My hips rose
higher, and my hands pressed into mattress and my arms trembled. And
then oh god her mouth went down and she was sucking, sucking, sucking
up and down, slowly, and then the orgasm oozed its torturous way up,
up, on its way, on its way, and I gasped joyfully because her mouth
hadn't stopped. The pleasure blossomed with glorious technicolor
sparklers behind my eyelids. It started below my sack and spread
through my groin, and I heard myself gasp, "Oh your mouth, your
fuckin' MOUTH!" Martha's lips near my ear whispered, "Cum. Cum for
us," and, yes, yes, the throbs started and Ronnie slowed her motion
and I either thought or said or gasped Ahhh, there! It began and it
rose lusciously and cum boiled out and Ronnie gulped and her tongue
slithered around my tip and Martha chuckled and said, "Yes, baby."
Spurting slow, slow again, slow, then hard against her tongue, then
harder, her tongue and lips getting slick, and then the big emptying
one, and Ronnie choked and paused, but only for a second, her throat
giving a small "Nnk!", but her mouth kept moving, her lips loosening
a little and letting liquid flow past her lips and trickle thinly over
my balls. The spurts lessened and she slowed her mouth, her rough
tongue curling lovingly, and her mouth was mothering, soothing, while
the hard throbs subsided. I heard myself sigh, "Ah. Ah, your mouth!
Ahhh. So nice, Ronnie!" I was coming back down, down from the place
Ronnie's mouth had taken me. Martha stroked my cheek and kissed my
ear and there was a smile in her voice as she whispered, "God, Steven,
that must have been so good." And it was. It was so goddamn good I
couldn't move. I let my hips sink back to the bed, not realizing
until then that my midsection was nine inches in the air. Instead of
a hard suck Ronnie raised her lips to my tip and sucked gently on it
and she used a hand to slowly, slowly wring my cock upward, and inside
her mouth she licked the last of me off the tip. Then she licked and
nipped the slick tip and then slithered her mouth around it, her lips
and tongue sticky, making my dick jump and making me jump. But her
hand held me firmly and my jerking dick barely nudged her soft lips as
the lips nursed, loved, and babied me back to normal.
Martha sat up, smiling down at me. She said, "You really let
yourself go that time. Again."
I shook my head weakly, my eyelids drooping, and I looked down at
Ronnie, her tongue tending sweetly. She raised her head and looked at
the trickle of cum around my balls and pubic hair and she wiped the
edge of her mouth. A short, hairlike string of cum stuck to her chin.
She said, "Martha, we need kleenex," and Martha got up to go for them
at the night table. Ronnie wiped her chin. She turned her eyes to
mine and there was that expression of hers, that almost expressionless
expresssion but with those captivating, talking eyes.
She said, "There. Even."
I sighed and said earnestly, "I hope so!"
She smiled, looking at the dab of cum on the hand that had wiped
her chin, and she glanced at me and blushed, and she wiped her chin
again and ran her tongue over her lips a couple of times with a
softly sticky sound and she swallowed thickly. Then her eyes found
mine again and she held her eyes on me while she rose and moved her
torso upward along mine. She held my face firmly in both hands and
her eyes seemed to steam their way into mine. She whispered sultrily,
"When you kiss me after I cum in your mouth, I always taste my dark-
ness on you." She tilted her face, her lips nearing mine. She
whispered softly, "Taste the darkness I took from you. Taste it."
She kissed me fervently, her mouth completely covering mine, her lips
and tongue tasting of cum and cock. And down below, during Ronnie's
long, long kiss, Martha was dabbing at me with the tissue and then
sucking me dry.
I remembered what Martha had told me about Ronnie, that Ronnie
what not what I'd expect. Ronnie was like nothing I could have
dreamed. Her soft mouth had me feeling I was melting, melting into
what she called the dark. I dissolved into both women, into the
mouths and hands and cunts and hearts and odors and flavors and minds
of both of them.
We fell asleep a little later, with me face up. Martha lay on her
tummy, her head on my chest, my arm draped around her waist. And
Ronnie was on her side with her head on my shoulder, her legs curled
up and one leg over mine, my arm cradling her head, one of Ronnie's
arms draped over Martha's back.
PART 18C:
When I opened my eyes Saturday morning the sun was shining with a
brightness that told me it had been daylight for hours. The little
fan on the window whirred steadily, streaming air toward the bed. I
glanced at the clock. Eight twenty.
Martha was half on me, using my chest for a pillow. I stroked her
hair. She didn't stir. I kissed her hair and caressed her shoulder.
On my other side, Ronnie had turned away and slept curled on her side,
her tush against my hip, my arm still cradling her head. My balls
ached, empty. My heart ached, full.
I sat up very, very carefully. Martha slipped off me, stirring
but remained asleep on her side. I kissed her lips, her warm, clingy
lips like puffy silk, cottony with sleep. I looked at her. How could
she look so girlishly innocent and so devastating at the same time?
There were times when I would look at her, as I did then, that made my
eyes feel they were expanding to take her in.
Carefully I uncurled my legs from Martha's and turned toward
Ronnie. I laid my palm on Ronnie's hip. I kissed her temple and then
her shoulder. She didn't move. I kissed the tight skin at the edge
of her shoulder, melty flesh over bone, my lips feeling as if they
touched a warm, white-chocolate coating over candy.
I eased off the foot of the bed and stood up. My head swirled;
it felt like a hangover without the pain. I crept into the living
room. The candle there had burned down to a bumpy orange pool. In
the kitchen I wanted coffee, but I feared making it would wake the
women. I drank a glass of milk, then I crept into the bedroom again
and quietly got my running clothes out of Martha's dresser.
Outside, I jogged sluggishly toward Second Avenue, my feet leaden
and my knees straining. The air was sticky and humid. By the time I
reached Central Park I was sweating profusely. I broke into a run
across the small meadow beside the Metropolitan, but was gasping hard
when I reached the street behind the museum. As I sped across the
roadway I lifted my legs higher to clear the rise of the curb and
began to stumble. I let myself go into a roll into the grass beyond
the road and flopped into my back. I lay there flat, panting crazily.
Shit, I thought. I'm wiped out. Getting lazy again. Getting
angry, flustered.
It took several minutes for me to feel rested again. Along the
nearby road the cyclers and joggers passed me. I gazed at the sky.
It was clear beyond the limbs of the surrounding trees. Blue. I re-
called the day, long ago, when I was a toddler, when I lay that way on
the side of a small hill near the Big Buildings in the Lauderdale
Courts, looking up at that sky and thinking that the world was an
open, unlimited space, waiting for me, beckoning, promising. I
remembered telling myself, then, that I would do anything, face any
task to see it all, do it all. I hadn't figured on weak ankles and
short wind. And the cigarettes. Why the hell didn't I just quit?
I told myself: Get up, you sorry piss ant, and get to Fiore's
class.
It was too late for breakfast. I broke the rules again and bought
a coffee at a deli on 86th Street, gulping it as I walked. I began to
understand something about the New Yorkers I saw everywhere as I
trudged under my own weight back to Martha's.
When I hurried into the front door, Martha was in the kitchen
shower. I rushed into the bedroom. Ronnie lay on her tummy, looking
unconscious. I tugged off my sweaty t-shirt and got a new one out of
the chest of drawers and pulled it on. I got a shirt from the closet
and was standing in front of the mirror buttoning it when I saw
Ronnie's reflection in the mirror. Lying face down, flat and list-
less, she turned her head toward me and opened her eyes drowsily,
then closed them again.
Getting in more of a hurry, I tugged off my running pants and
grabbed my jeans off the floor and started putting them on. As I
zipped and buckled, I saw Ronnie open and close her eyes again.
I said, "Good morning, Ronnie."
She said with her mouth against the sheet, "Ronnie died. Come
back on the third day."
I chuckled, and bent down to kiss her. She raised her head and I
gave her an affectionate smack on the lips. When I did, she began to
turn over and started snaking an arm around my neck. But I hurried
away, stepping into my loafers.
"I gotta go to Fiore's."
"Ah, you guys. Eat and run."
I paused at the door. "Don't forget, we're going shopping with me
when I get back."
She had closed her eyes again. "Yeah. Right."
I hurried into the kitchen. Martha had stepped from the shower
and was drying off. I rushed to her and she looked at me, surprised
and confused. I grabbed her around the waist and kissed her, holding
her tight. She was damp and naked against me, her waist firm and
narrow, and I wanted to fuck her. She kissed back, but I had to let
her go. She wobbled on her feet a bit as I moved away.
I rushed to the front door. "I gotta go to Fiore's. I love you."
I hopped downstairs, three steps a time.
My cash was running low. I wasn't broke; I had money from Memphis
and from my short lived posing career. And thanks to my step-dad's
and Martha's insistence, I still had money in the bank in Memphis.
But during my last ten days in New York I couldn't afford Fiore's
special classes without going broke. At least I'd learned enough
about physical culture to get a good workout on my own.
Before the class began I told Fiore that it would be my last
visit.
He grinned and put his arm around me. For once, I didn't fall all
over myself when he slapped me on the back. "My friend, you've worked
hard. You've done well. Your friend Martha tells me your spirits
have much improved. You are not so shy as you were, hah? Not so
worried about how you look!"
"You definitely made a difference, Mister Fiore."
He squinted at me. "Why you keep calling me Mister Fiore? Hah?
'Mister'? Ha-ha! It is Fiore to you, my friend, Martha's friend.
Fiore!" Another slap on the back. He stood back and looked me over.
"You haf a good frame, good proportions. You would make a good pro-
fessional, Hah? Maybe a good instructor one day, hah? Eh, this is
not work for everyone, but you could be good! And in the mean-
while --" He extended his big, red, warm hand. "In the meanwhile,
my friend, good luck to you."
He shook my hand, shaking most of my body with it, and then he
walked away quickly with two of his assistants. And I went to the
class and struggled through it. My heart wasn't really in it; it was
the end of the classes, the end of Fiore, and nearing the end of
everything.
Ronnie guided me through the shoving crowd in Bloomingdale's. In
many ways the horde at the one-day sale was like the subway: nose to
nose and elbow to elbow. There was female flesh and female chatter
everywhere, of all sizes and ages.
Ronnie stopped in the outerwear department. "Okay, what are we
looking for?"
"Where are the overcoats?"
"Overcoats? Steven, this isn't Woolworth's. This is an expensive
place, even with a sale."
I said firmly, "Martha needs an overcoat."
"She needs a dressy one, though. She could always wear mine, it's
almost brand new."
"Yeah, but what if you need to wear yours, too?"
She looked at me, reluctant. "Okay. Let's look over here."
On our way through the racks of clothes she led the way, winding
through the squabbling shoppers, saying "Excuse me," or sometimes
shouting "Excuse me!". Suddenly she stopped at a table piled with
sweaters. "Oh my god, look at this."
"What?"
"This sweater. It's beautiful. Do I need this? Oh, how I need
this." She lifted it and draped it across her front. "Wow." She
fished for the price tag and found it. Her smile faded in an instant.
She exclaimed, "Ninety-nine bucks! On sale? Thirty-five percent off,
and it's still ninety-nine?" She dropped the sweater on the pile. "I
don't need it any more. C'mon."
I followed her. "You want that?"
She mumbled, "Cashmere. They always do that, they make something
one-of-a-kind gorgeous and make you want it, then they stick it to ya."
I insisted, "You want it?"
"That's what ticks me off. I need one. I have this ratty, tweedy
thing. It's warm, anyway."
"Hey, do you want that sweater?"
"Oh, I can't afford that. Makes me so mad..."
She led me a few yards farther. "Okay. Overcoats and raincoats,
carcoats. And more coats. Look at 'em and weep."
I glanced around. We were surrounded by hundreds of coats in
disarray on the racks. A couple of women bumped against me. I asked
Ronnie, "Where are the dressy ones? You have to show me what women
wear. I don't know how to judge this."
"Martha said you had good taste, so I'll leave it up to you.
Here, take a look at these. They're fairly dressy."
"I don't want fairly dressy, I want dressy."
"But, honey, these won't cost that much. This is 1957, you can't
buy a really dressy fifty dollar coat anymore, not a nice one."
I said, unflinching, "I want dressy. Nice dressy."
Ronnie sighed. "Oh, all right. Let's see..." She scanned the
racks quickly, and we moved two racks over. "Here. But I'm warning
you."
I looked through the coats, shoving them aside on their hangers
along the steel rod, one by one. "What am I looking for?"
She shrugged. "Whatever catches your eye. Hope they have some-
thing left in Martha's size."
I found one I thought I liked. But, no, it was tan. Tan wouldn't
go with everything. There was a navy blue, with a belt. I went on
and on. I saw Ronnie moving away. I said, "Don't go far. I need
you."
She glanced back at me. "I'll be right over here."
I looked and looked and looked. I noticed Ronnie at the sweaters
again, and she was holding the same black cashmere sweater she had
handled before. I saw her look at it, hold it away from her, put it
down, look at something else, and go back to it again.
Then I found the overcoat. *The* overcoat! It was wool, dark
navy blue, almost black, black-buttoned, not too heavyweight, with a
removable liner inside. And I knew enough to know that the interior
silk lining was good stuff. I pulled it out and held it up. It was
slender, soft looking. It had a luxurious look and feel to it. And
it didn't weigh a ton but seemed it would be warm enough. I held up
one sleeve and crunched it tightly in my hand, then let go; the fabric
sprung into shape perfectly.
I called to Ronnie, but she didn't hear over the noise. I called
louder, "Ronnie!"
She looked up and then sauntered toward me.
I held the coat high by its hanger. "What about this?"
She looked it over, and her eyes seemed to glow. She murmured,
"Oh, Steven. Damn. It's..." She checked the collar, quickly. "But
it's not her size. Phooey, I'll bet they don't have her size." She
hunted through the coat rack hastily, complaining, "I don't believe
it, there's a half dozen of that coat here, but..." Then she jerked
out another one just like it and checked the label. She said, smil-
ing, "Ah, our size. Martha's size. We both wear the same size in a
coat, but Martha's shoulders are broader. Just a little broader."
"Try it on."
She checked the orange sale label. She said in dismay, "Steven,
this thing costs a hundred and eighty bucks."
I said, my voice firm, "Try it on."
She looked at me, insisting, "A hundred eighty? I mean that's not
so much by New York standards, but for you and me it's a disaster.
One eighty, you can't afford that."
"Ronnie. Veronica. My love. Can you try it on, please?"
She blinked at me. "Your what?"
"Well, try it on, and we'll see if that's a good size and style
for her, and look for something else."
"Well, all right." She looked around for a mirror. "Not a bad
idea, I guess..."
Ronnie led me to a mirror on a nearby wall and she removed the
coat hanger and donned the coat. She looked at herself in the mirror,
and she seemed unable to take her eyes off her reflection. She said,
pleased, "Oh, this makes you look so tall and chic. It's so European.
Looks kinda French, I think." She buttoned the coat all the way, put
her hands in the pockets and turned this way and that. "Steven, you
do have a great eye." She bent over, straightened up. She tried to
yank the collar out of shape. Then she just stood there looking at
herself in the mirror.
She said quietly, "Damn."
"What's the matter?"
"It's gorgeous. It's...it's a...It's gorgeous. It is just
goddamn gorgeous. And it'll fit her perfectly. It's gorgeous, that's
all there is to it."
"Okay. Let's get it."
"Oh, my. Steven, dear, it's a hundred eighty."
"Okay. I have the money on me."
She frowned at me in the mirror. "That's money you worked for.
For Memphis. For you!"
I pointed my finger at her. "Ronnie, I'm buying Martha that
coat."
She whined feebly, "Don't argue with me."
"No argument. I'm buying it."
She stared at me, wagged her head a moment, and gave up. She
conceded, taking it off. "All right, Steven."
"You're sure it'll fit."
"Oh, yeah. Exactly. We wear a lot of each other's clothes.
She'll look terrific in it." She removed the coat and draped it over
the coat rack. "God, feel this. This feels so nice. Now, wait.
Let's check it out. Missing buttons, crooked seams. Let's take a
look. My god, look at this old tag. The original price was three
seventy-five. Steven, you picked a winner. From the tags, it looks
like one of last year's. Nobody would know that, though."
I waited patiently while she looked it over in detail. She looked
and looked and looked.
After a minute I complained, "What are you doing?"
She said absently, "Checking it out. Surely there must be some
way I can keep you from growing broke on this coat."
"I don't care if I go broke. I don't buy ugly clothes. Martha
needs a good coat. She needs a coat that'll do her justice. Maybe a
coat she'll look good in when she looks for a decent job."
"Oooh, this will do it. You know, you're gonna need a scarf with
this."
"So we'll get a scarf."
She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and smiled as she
put the coat back on its hanger. "You'll have to pay to wrap it.
It's on sale."
"We'll have it wrapped."
"Real go get 'em type of guy, huh?"
I shrugged and blushed a little.
She held the coat by its hanger and walked to me, and then grabbed
my cheeks and gave them a tight squeeze, her face close to mine.
"Awww." She grit her teeth playfully and whispered, "You look so good
when you get steamed up." She kissed my cheek. "C'mon."
She led us out of the coat department. She passed the sweaters
and I stopped at the sweater table and found the one she'd looked at
earlier. I called to her. "Ronnie."
She turned to me.
I picked up the sweater and held it toward her. "Try this on
again."
Her eyes widened and she seemed nettled, her mouth firmly set.
She said decidedly, "Steven, no."
"Come on, try it on."
"No!"
"Oh...Come on. Please?"
She looked at me, scowling. Being so miffed seemed unlike her,
but if I ever wanted an aunt to get pissed at me, I would want the
aunt to be Ronnie.
I held the sweater out to her. "Come on. Be a good girl and try
it on, I'll buy you an ice cream cone."
She smirked, her eyes still glaring. She walked to me and reached
out for the sweater, and as she grabbed it on her way past me she
muttered, "Ice cream. Go away."
She put the sweater on and stood in front of the mirror looking at
it. She buttoned it. She played with the sleeves. She had no ex-
pression on her face, but I saw that her eyes were pleased. She
turned left, right, walked around. She looked at the sweater and
checked out the inner folds, linings, the pockets. She mumbled, "This
thing is just a masterpiece. It feels so..." Then she stood still
for a moment, and then sighed. Then she turned and walked past me,
taking the sweater off. She grumbled, "Okay, that's enough of this.
Don't do this to me. You know you can't afford this."
"You need a sweater, don't you?"
She folded the sweater and placed it where it had been. She said
wearily, "Well..."
"You need a sweater?"
She said impatiently, looking at the ceiling and feigning a
desperate, dramatic scene, "Yes. Yes. I confess, officer. I...need
...a...sweater. I admit it." She turned to me and asked me, "You
wanna buy me a sweater, is that what you want? You're bound and
determined?".
I looked at her. I said softly, "I love you."
She winced painfully and whined, "Oh, no wonder you drive Martha
crazy! You're impossible. You won't listen."
"I'm good in bed, though."
She tried not to laugh. "All right. But we can get a nice
sweater for half this. Less than half. Much less."
"Okay. Show me."
She gave a sigh of exasperation. "Come on, then."
Fifteen minutes later, Ronnie had chosen a fairly nice sixty
dollar, wool sweater marked down to thirty-five. And it did look very
attractive on her. She insisted she was pleased. But I didn't see
the same look in her eyes that I saw when she wore the other garment.
And when she posed in the mirror in the new sweater and told me, "See,
it looks perfect," I didn't hear it in her voice, and I didn't see
"perfect" in her eyes, either. I had the distinct feeling she was
being too enthusiastic, for my benefit.
While she checked herself out in the mirror I asked her, "You're
sure this is the one? *The* sweater?"
"Why does everything have to be so perfect? It's nice, look at
it. It's a very nice, light brown sweater. Great for the office. Or
casual. It's right outta Redbook. You don't think it's nice?"
I folded my arms. I smiled weakly. "It's nice."
"You don't sound like you believe me. I thought you were getting
this for me, not for you. I like this."
"Not the way you liked the other one."
She turned around and walked to me and she put her hands on my
arms and looked into my eyes. She said frankly, firmly, "Steven, I
love you. Get...this...sweater. This one. Don't you like me in
this?"
I said dryly, "Like you? Yeah. Wanna do it here? Nobody's
watchin'."
She sniggered and whispered, "Oh, shut up." She blew me a kiss
and walked away, taking the sweater off. "You don't have to, if you
don't want to. But I'm perfectly happy with it."
I followed her. "Could Martha wear that one, too?"
"Sure she could." She looked at the sweater, then back at me.
"Tell you what...Why don't you make this a gift for me and Martha,
both of us? Then I won't feel bad about you spending all the rest of
your money on just me."
"Okay. This is the one you like, this is the one we get. Where's
the cashier?"
"Right over there. C'mon."
We got into the cashier's line, Ronnie standing next to me.
I said, "You know, presents are supposed to be surprises, but you
already know what yours is."
"No, no, it's Martha's present too, and she hasn't seen it, so
it'll be a surprise for her. Anyway, sweetheart, with your taste in
clothes, I wouldn't want you to go bankrupt trying to surprise me."
She looked ahead at the line, dropping her voice. "In the first
place, you took me by surprise by wanting to buy me something. That
was nice. That was a surprise in itself."
I said, "Why won't you let me get the one you really want?"
She joked, "It's not proper. I'm your Aunt Ronnie." She winked
at me. "You should spend the big money on Mama Martha."
I said, "I thought you were my date, not my aunt."
She lowered her voice. "Shh. I wanna be your aunt. Aunt
Veronica. Much more exciting fantasy. I mean, I can be in bed with a
date whenever. But if I'm your aunt --" She looked around and then
whispered near my ear, "I can fantasize about screwing my nephew."
She smiled mischievously to herself, enjoying her little joke.
I said sarcastically, "So that gives you a charge?"
"Sure. It's better. It's darker. Don't you fantasize about
Martha?"
"Never had to."
"Yeah? You two Mouseketeers have done it all, huh?"
We moved up with the rest of the line.
Ronnie said, "Okay, when we get up there, just have the girl put
them in a plain box. We can get our own wrapping paper for less than
they charge to wrap. No, wait, get separate boxes. May as well get
our money's worth, the boxes are free."
We fell silent for a moment. The cashier's line moved slowly.
There were four customers ahead of us. I looked at Ronnie. She stood
beside me, looking ahead and waiting patiently. The overcoat was
flung over shoulder. Her profile wasn't at all bad, pretty and
gentle. I looked at her face, her narrow nose, her soft, narrow-
lipped mouth, her long eyelashes. She looked older than almost
twenty-three. I thought about my crabby aunts in Memphis. Among my
step-family there were younger ones, many of them quite personable and
attractive. But none of them had an effect like Ronnie.
Just ahead of us was a short, stooped, frail looking, elderly
woman in her seventies or eighties. She carried a small raincoat over
her arm, its price tag hanging down a couple of inches. Atop the
little lady's head was a mop of neat gray hair that looked so dry it
could have been a stage wig. She wore a small blue hat the size of a
coffee saucer, with a thin blue feather in it. She was only shoulder
high to me. She wore a one piece, short sleeved print dress that made
her small shoulders and withered arms look as frail as the rest of
her.
As Ronnie and I waited silently, the old lady turned around toward
us. She glanced up at Ronnie, then at me, her wrinkled, loose-jowled
face frowning with impatience. And when she turned to look back she
would do so by taking small steps with her little feet until she was
turned completely around. After looking us over quickly, one by one,
she took several small steps again and turned around in the other
direction, and sighed tiredly.
I glanced at Ronnie, and she glanced at me, and we both smiled,
suppressing a laugh.
Ronnie said, "Behave, Steven."
"Yes, Auntie."
She smirked.
I said, "So you like this aunt fantasy, huh?"
"Sure. It's kinky. Dark."
"I dunno, must be something wrong with me. I don't have fantas-
ies. I don't think I do. If I do, they're based on real situations."
"Sure, you do. Everybody has sexual fantasies. And identity
fantasies. And career fantasies. Sex isn't the only kind. But I
have lots of them. Being an aunt's one of my favorites. I think
it's very sexy."
We stopped talking as the little old lady in front of us started
turning around again. She looked at us in turn, her face so wrinkled
that we couldn't tell if she frowned in confusion or annoyance as she
clamped and unclamped her jaws. Then she turned around again.
Ronnie put her hand over her mouth, laughing silently.
I leaned near Ronnie's ear. I whispered, pointing at the old
lady, "Now, *that's* an aunt."
Ronnie laughed out loud once, clamping her hand over mouth
quickly, then settling down. She shook her head and sighed, and then
relaxed.
Suddenly her eyes popped open. "Steven, we forgot the scarf!"
She looked around, and then she handed me the overcoat. "Uh, look,
you stay in line. I don't want us to have to get in a new line for
that scarf. Here, I'll go find one lickety-split."
I took the coat, and now I held both her sweater and Martha's
coat.
Ronnie took a few steps away from me, then hurried back. "Oh!
Look, I'll try to get back fast, but if you get up there just go ahead
and check these out. We'll just have to try another line if I don't
get back. Okay?"
"Fine."
"That's a sweet boy."
She rushed away. After a couple of minutes, the only customer
ahead of us was the old lady. I looked around. I searched for
Ronnie's wavy hair, green blouse and black skirt, but I couldn't see
her, nor could I see the area where the ladies' scarves might be.
Then a brilliant idea hit me. As I searched for Ronnie, my eyes
kept falling on the sweater table, only a few yards away. The sweater
that Ronnie wanted was still there, one sleeve hanging off the table.
I saw a lady looking it over. I feared she might buy it. But she
placed it back again and walked away. That sweater was still there.
I turned to the customer behind me, another elderly lady. I asked
politely, "Excuse me, miss, could you, uh -- would you mind? I forgot
to pick up that sweater over there, it's just across the aisle."
She said crankily, "And you wanna get outta line, I suppose."
"Oh, just for a second. Really, it's right over there."
"Yeah. Well, it's busy in here."
"But it's just right there."
"Yeah. Go on, I'll wait. But if my turn comes up, I'm going
ahead."
"Oh, no. No, I'll be right back."
I dashed across the aisle, almost dropping everything I had, and I
grabbed the sweater and ran back to my place in line.
"Thank you."
"You're lucky the line didn't move, young man."
"Yes. Thank you."
I waited. I kept saying in my mind to Ronnie, Don't come back
yet, Don't come back yet. I looked around quickly. Ronnie was no-
where to be seen. I kept saying Don't come back yet.
The little lady in front of me completed her transaction. She got
her purse and shopping bags together, and she stood looking around,
and I kept saying in my head Please go faster Please go faster.
I stepped up to the very tall, heavily set cashier. She said
dully, "Next."
I piled the two sweaters and the overcoat on the counter. The
woman worked lethargically, constantly looking around, and she removed
a tab from each label and started writing out a sales slip. She
asked, "This is cash?"
"Yes." I took out my wallet and counted out the traveler's checks
and laid them on the counter. She was still writing on the sales
form.
I looked around. Ronnie wasn't in sight. I said Don't come back
yet Don't come back yet.
I told the sales clerk, "Could you please put the coat in one box,
and the sweaters together in a separate box?"
"Sure, that's what you want?"
"Yes."
She wrote slowly in her sales book.
I said, "Uh, could you give me the boxes, I'll be glad to pack
them myself.
"Oh, I'll pack them. It's not necessary."
"Well, I have a card. Uh, I have a card I want to put into the
boxes."
"Oh. Very well." She looked over the merchandise to check their
size, and she pulled two folded, plain Bloomingdale's boxes from
beneath the counter and slowly, slowly, unfolded them and laid them
out for me. I looked around again. No Ronnie. Whew! I put the
overcoat in one box. In the other box I placed the sweater Ronnie was
in love with, and on top of it I draped the cheaper sweater.
Then I waited, sighing with relief.
The sales clerk completed the form, and she took my traveler's
checks. She said, "You have to sign these."
I said, "Oh. I forgot."
I was signing the checks when Ronnie returned.
She said, "Well, I couldn't make up my mind. Sorry I took so
long. We'll let Martha pick one out herself, she'd like it better
that way anyway. I should have had the coat with me so I could
compare colors."
I said casually, signing my name on the last check. "Well, you're
right, maybe Martha should pick it out."
"Yeah." She glanced at the checks as the sales clerk counted
them. She said sadly, "Steven. All that hard work."
"It's okay. I put it to good use."
She looked at me. She reached down and gave my hand a squeeze.
The sales lady rang up the sale, and she told me the total
charges. The amount was over three hundred dollars. I shut my eyes,
certain that Ronnie heard the total. But Ronnie was just standing and
looking around, and didn't seem to hear or take notice.
The sales lady said, "Thank you, sir, and I'll place your receipts
in the box here..."
Before I could say anything, the lady removed the top from the
sweater box. I thought, Oh no! The top sweater was visible, and just
below is was a portion of the expensive one. I glanced at Ronnie.
She was looking away.
The lady replaced the top, tied the two boxes together with
string, and Ronnie and I walked off.
On our way up Lexington Avenue I asked Ronnie, "Do you think you
could contain your enthusiasm for that sweater for about a week?"
"Why? What's up?"
"Well...I figure we could wrap these as birthday presents, and I
could tell a barefaced lie to Martha sometime next week that I'm
going to have a surprise birthday for you, my sweet Aunt Veronica,
because I won't be here on your birthday."
"Hmm."
"And I could get a cake, see, but the birthday party would really
be for her."
"Awww."
"Well, for both of you."
"Awwwww."
"Come on, can we do that?"
"You're a cute nephew. But soooo devious. But okay. that's a
good idea. Let's go get some wrapping paper and wrap this stuff at my
place. We can keep it there."
We bought wrapping paper and ribbons and cards, and we took it all
to Ronnie's apartment, sneaking up the stairs like a couple of crimi-
nals. In her living room, Ronnie wanted to take a look inside the
boxes to check the packing and remove the tags.
I said quickly, "Tell you what, you check the box with the coat.
I'll check the sweater."
"What difference does it make? Let's just check 'em."
"Well, the sweater's partly your birthday present. So, you don't
get to look at it again until the party."
Ronnie looked at me, skeptical. "So complicated...You and Martha
both."
I picked up the sweater box from Ronnie's coffee table and headed
for the bedroom.
She asked, "Where are you going?"
I raised a warning finger. "Ah-ah. You're not supposed to see."
"Oh, for goodness' sake." She sighed, and opened the box with the
overcoat. "Whatever you need, dear, to keep the fantasy alive for
your little mind. Oh, look at this. What a gorgeous coat."
In the bedroom, I folded the sweaters neatly, packing one with
brown tissue and the other with black tissue, and I made out a small
card for each sweater. I taped the box shut, and brought it into the
living room to Ronnie.
I said, "Okay, all's well with the sweater. I figure you should
be the one to wrap it. You're the one with all the talent around
here."
Ronnie did a beautiful, neat job of wrapping. I made out birthday
cards for Martha and for Ronnie, then sealed the cards and tucked them
under the ribbons on the boxes.
Then I asked her, "All right, when are we gonna do this?"
Ronnie thought. "Uh...Tomorrow night after dinner."
"Tomorrow? Sunday? Martha's birthday is a week from now. Why so
soon?"
She grinned. "Because I can't wait." The she screwed up her face
in a girlish grin. "I can't wait!" She gave me a hug, and said
again, "I can't wait."
"Where are we gonna keep all this stuff? Martha might come in
here and see it, if it's lying around."
Ronnie said, "We'll put it 'em in the oh-my-god room."
"The what?"
"The oh-my-god room. You know? 'Oh my god, where am I gonna put
this?' Come on." She grabbed the boxes and she led me to her bedroom
closet and had me open the door while she moved stuff around and
shoved the boxes inside.
She said, "Okay, tomorrow before dinner, we'll keep Martha busy
and out of the apartment somewhere. I'll let you know. And I'll show
you a good bakery, where you can get a cake. And, uh...so that's it.
It's a lovely, lovely conspiracy. I'm gonna love it."
On her way to showing me to the door, Ronnie said, "Martha's gonna
love that dress. She'll go bananas."
PART 18D:
Everything I did in New York had me thinking of Memphis.
My Saturday night date with Becky was a lot of fun. Innocent fun,
despite the fact that Becky was such a lively, sweet tempered turn-on.
I took her to see 'Bridge Over the River Kwai', which I'd seen before
but wanted to see again.
It was an exercise in socializing. Merely sitting next to cute
Becky in a movie house was sexually arousing. I couldn't help but
feel affection for her, she was so likeable and bright. But my emo-
tions were with Martha and Ronnie. I knew then that the two women
had spoiled me thoroughly with their affection and passion. It seemed
inconceivable that anything could be better, or even worth the effort;
that thought had me wondering what I'd do when I returned to Memphis,
where there were no Marthas or Ronnies in sight.
Becky was home by ten-thirty. She introduced me to her folks, who
waited up for her. I chatted with them for several minutes, during
which all they talked about was Martha, whom they knew and whom they
praised lavishly, telling me Martha should leave Columbia and start a
private, professional consulting operation with like minded partners.
Becky's parents were quite liberal in their beliefs and politics. When
I left their home I was convinced more than ever that returning to
Memphis would be like returning to prison, for me.
On the subway back to Martha's I knew I was working myself into
another funk about Memphis. I resisted my own gloomy anger, realizing
it would only worsen my last days in New York.
When I returned to Martha's all I wanted to do was lounge about
the place with her. She was in bed with a few of her papers, getting
ready for returning to work Monday. When I was ready for bed she put
everything away and we talked about my date with Becky. I mentioned
that Becky's folks talked about a private career for Martha, and
Martha told me she'd been thinking about it and would soon have to
make some serious decisions.
With the lights out I lay watching Martha sleep, unable to sleep
myself. I kept thinking how great Martha would look as she traveled
about the city in that new coat. Like Ronnie, I could hardly wait for
Sunday night.
Sunday morning I went bird watching with Ronnie. As we had done
before, we soon parted from the Audubon group and went our own way.
Ronnie sat on a big granite boulder under a group of trees and watched
while I took my run in a small, grassy clearing. She told me, "You
run. I'll coach from up here."
I started jogging in a wide circle. From atop the boulder, Ronnie
cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted at me, "Hey, c'mon!
Faster! I can do better than that!"
I ran another lap around the clearing, working up a good sweat.
Ronnie yelled at me, "Hey! You're hardly movin'!" and she pointed at
me and laughed.
I kept thinking, I love you, Ronnie. I love both of you.
Ronnie and I had worked out our plan. Martha was to think that
she'd go to dinner with Ronnie and tell Ronnie that I was tied up with
something until they came home, while I'd be at Martha's setting up
for Ronnie's surprise birthday. Ronnie's birthday wasn't until Febru-
ary, but I would be in Memphis then. I told Martha we'd have a small
dinner for her own birthday next week, before I left for Memphis.
Sunday afternoon I took a nap. I woke up, lying on my face, as
Martha crawled onto the bed and settled onto my back with her head on
my shoulder.
She said, "Hi. I hate to wake you up, but I have to go out with
Ronnie soon."
"Okay."
She kissed my neck. "You gonna get it all set up while we're
gone?"
"Yep."
She kissed my neck again. "Tired?"
"Not really. I'm waking up."
She kissed my neck again. "Well, I could help wake you up."
I chuckled, and I rolled over and let her settle onto my chest.
I said, "You don't want to save something for tonight?"
"Oh, I'd save a little."
I looked at her face. She was smiling at me, impishly sensuous.
I said, "Are you going crazy again?"
"Mm-hm. I came in here a few times and watched you sleeping."
"That made you crazy?"
"Sometimes it does."
"I confess. Sometimes I do the same thing."
"Mm? Then why didn't you do something about it?"
"Next time, I will."
"You haven't done it yet. We only have a week."
"Then I'll do it all week."
"Mm. Okay."
I said, "C'mon, let me up. It's almost time to get ready."
She didn't move. She looked at my mouth. "Okay."
"Come on, let me up."
"Okay." She remained still, on top of me.
"Hey. C'mon."
"Okay." She smiled at my mouth.
I said, "Don't say okay if you don't mean okay."
"Okay."
"So let me up."
She didn't say okay, she didn't say anything. She lay on me and
grinned.
I kissed her, and her lovely mouth fed on mine for a moment, and
then she ended the kiss and said, "Mm. Better."
While Martha and Ronnie were away I went to a bakery on Third
Avenue and bought two small, decorated birthday cakes. One for
Martha, one for Ronnie. The little box of candles was free. Ronnie
had given me a key to her apartment, where I dug the boxes out of the
oh-my-god room, stopping to pick up several articles that tumbled out
when I opened the closet door. In Martha's apartment I set up the
dining room table with the two cakes and the two boxes sitting in
front of them, along with a third, smaller present that Ronnie had
wrapped and that she had asked me to include with the others..
When Martha and Ronnie showed up at seven, the birthday candles
were burning. One cake had a candy "Happy Birthday Martha" on it, the
other had "Happy Birthday Ronnie." I stood in the kitchen waiting for
them.
Martha entered the front door, telling Ronnie, "Steven should be
back by now. By the way, I didn't tell you, there's something waiting
for you in the dining room."
Ronnie said innocently, "For me?" and I suppressed a big smile
when I heard her say that. Martha waited at the door, watching Ronnie
enter, and I said casually, "Why, hello. So glad you two could come."
"Hello," Ronnie said, crossing the living room, a sneaky smile on
her face. "Well, Martha...I forgot to tell you, too, that there's
something waiting for *you*, not for --" She stopped, gaping at the
dining room table. She put her hands on her hips. She said, "Steven.
What did you do?" She turned to me, grinning, surprised. "What the
hell did you do?"
Martha closed and locked the door, frowning. "What is it?"
Ronnie said disbelievingly, "C'mere, look at this. Look what he
did."
Martha walked toward the table, her eyes widening as she got
closer. She breathed, "Well, good lord." She looked at me. "What
did you do?"
I said, "Why is everybody asking me what I did? Look, that's what
I did."
Ronnie shook her head. "I don't believe it. He fooled us both."
I stepped toward them. "I couldn't make up my mind, so I got two
cakes. One's chocolate on white, the other's white on chocolate."
Ronnie said, "Steven, you're a master criminal.
I said, "You're supposed to blow out the candles."
Martha gaped for another moment, then she looked at me and said
steadfastly, "We are *not* going to sing happy birthday!"
I began, "Happy birthday to you, Happy birth--"
"No!" Martha said. "I hate that. It's so --" She smiled, and
her eyes got red. She pleaded sweetly, "Steven, don't do it. Please.
I get so embarrassed." She shot a glance at Ronnie. "So you were in
on this all along. Serves you right."
Ronnie touched Martha's shoulder. She said, "Martha, happy birth-
day." She kissed Martha on the cheek.
Martha hugged her back. "You too, Ron. You old maid."
Ronnie laughed, choking up a little herself, and they hugged
again.
Then Martha turned to me and feigned an angry frown, beckoning
with her finger and moving toward me.
"C'mere."
I back away, "Now, let's take it easy."
"Come...here!"
I circled around her. "Not if you're gonna be rough."
Martha said, "Get 'im, Ronnie."
Both of them started for me, and I backed into the living room.
Martha said, getting closer, warning me, "There's no place to
ru-u-un."
They came to me, grinning, and then both of them wrapped their
their arms around me and began planting tickly little kisses all over
my face and neck, laughing, hugging me.
I said, "All right, c'mon, let's open the presents."
Martha said, "What do you think we oughtta do to him, Ronnie?"
Ronnie said slyly, "Everything."
Martha said, "Drive him crazy?"
Ronnie said, "Nah, I think we already did that. Let's just put
him into a coma."
I said, "Hold on, let's reserve judgment until you see the
presents."
Martha said, "Well, okay." She started for the dining room. "You
know, I halfway suspected something like this, with my own birthday
coming up. But I didn't expect a gift, Steven."
They went into the dining room with me behind them, and we stood
around the table.
Martha told Ronnie, "You first."
Ronnie said, "You first. Yours is the bigger one."
Martha said, "You."
Ronnie said, "Your birthday's first."
Martha said, "Well..."
We watched and waited. Martha looked down at the bigger box, her
hands on its sides.
I said, "Well? Martha?"
Martha asked, suspenseful, "What's in here?"
Ronnie said, impatient, "Open it!"
Martha lifted the box and tore gently at one corner. She
murmured, "This is such a big box." She pulled at the paper slowly,
hesitantly.
Ronnie said sarcastically, "Martha, maybe Steven and I could go
out and do a little shopping, and check back."
I said, "C'mon, Martha, open it."
Martha pulled at the ribbon and it came undone and she pulled it
off the box. She glanced at Ronnie. "Who bought this? Did you buy
this?"
Ronnie said, "Steven picked it out. Steven bought it. I tried it
on."
"Tried it on?"
"Martha, open the damn box."
She tore away another huge piece of the glossy white paper, and
she set the birthday card envelope aside, and she glanced at me with a
mildly accusing smirk, and then she lifted the top and set it aside as
well. She looked down at the bulge of layered white tissue paper.
Ronnie murmured, clenching her fists and closing her eyes,
"Martha, stop driving me crazy."
A little smile on her face, Martha drew the top layer of tissue
aside. There was the coat, collar facing up. Martha blinked and
seemed to go limp. She laid her palms on the coat, caressing it. She
gave a hushed whisper, "Oh my god."
Ronnie instructed her patiently, "Look, Martha, you pick it up,
you take it out of the box, you look at it. It's easy. It's not
complicated."
Martha picked up the coat by the shoulders and lifted the coat up
and overhead, letting its length fall in front of her, her eyes fixed
on it and her smile widening. She breathed again, "Oh my god."
I said, "Well? You like it? Ronnie made sure it would fit."
"Oh my god."
Ronnie giggled, folding her arms in front of her. "Come on, try
it on."
Martha looked at it up and down for a moment.
Ronnie threw up her hands and sighed.
Martha said, "Okay. Okay, I'll try it on."
I held the coat for her as she backed into it, and I straightened
it around her shoulders. She looked down at it. She held out her
arms, and looked down at herself. "Steven, it's..."
I kissed her cheek. "Happy birthday."
She wrapped the coat closely around her. "This is so nice. This
is such a lovely coat." She turned to me, her head slowly moving side
to side, her eyes warm but fearful. "Steven, this is not a bargain
coat. This is not a bargain basement coat. How much did this cost?"
I shook my head no, and Ronnie chided her, "Martha!"
I said, "Unfair question."
She smiled at me, and looked down at the coat.
I said, "It's yours. It's not going back. So there."
She reached for my face and she put her lips on my cheek and gave
me a warm, lingering kiss. She hugged her face against mine. "Thank
you, hon. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome."
She looked down at the coat again, running her palms up an down
the front. "It's beautiful. It really is."
Ronnie sighed a loud "Whew! Well, it's time for mine, then." She
grabbed the sweater box and ripped off the ribbon and tore the paper
away. "Martha, this is actually for both of us, from Steven to me and
you. I've already seen it, so I'm not going to stand around gaping
and screaming oh my god all over the place, because I already know
what it is. But you'll like it, it's for both of us...Oh, the card!
Supposed to read the card first." She pulled the birthday card from
the envelope and opened it. She read aloud, "'To Mama Martha and Aunt
Ronnie. The Best and the Best. I love you both. Steven'. Aww."
I said, "Stop it, Ronnie."
Ronnie said louder, "Awwww." Then she smiled sweetly. "That was
very sweet, Steven. Thank you."
Ronnie set the top aside and grinned down at the box. "Very
clever,Steven, brown tissue to match the fabric. I didn't even see you
do that." She pulled the tissue aside and pulled out the sweater, hold-
ing it up by the shoulders for Martha to see. Ronnie sang, "Ta-daaa!.
See? Isn't that a nice one?"
In her coat, Martha stepped to Ronnie and touched the sweater.
"Mmm, Steven. Oh, that's very attractive. You picked this, too?"
I said, "Ronnie picked that."
Martha said, "Well, It's very pretty. I don't believe you did all
this."
Ronnie held the sweater across her front, grinning at it. "See?
It'll fit both of us. When you get sick of trying that coat on, you
can try this, too."
I said, "Ronnie." I nudged by head toward the box. "There's
something under it."
"Huh?"
"There's something under it."
Ronnie put the brown sweater on the table, smiling as she reached
into the box and lifted the layers of brown tissue. Her smile faded
to a dull gaze when she saw the small envelope atop the bulge of black
tissue. She set the other tissue down and picked up the card, her
eyes fixed on it, and she opened the envelope. She read the front
aloud, her lips barely moving. "A special gift for a special someone,
on the special event of your birthday." She opened the card. She
read it to herself and closed her eyes a moment. She read it again,
aloud. 'For showing me the way to the ancient heavenly connection
into the starry dynamo. Love...Steven'."
She set the card on the table, and gazed at the black tissue in
the box, stunned.
Martha looked at me. She said, "The ancient heavenly...That's
Ginsberg, isn't it?"
I nodded yes.
Martha smiled knowingly. "So. She gave you Ginsberg. I should
have done that myself." She turned to Ronnie. "So? Ronnie? You're
worse than I am. Open it, let's see."
Ronnie looked up at me, her eyes narrowing. "You are so sneaky,
Steven."
I said, "Come on. Do it."
She took a breath, murmuring to me, "Just wait. You just wait."
She reached down and parted the tissue, and she raised her hands to
her face, her palms on each cheek, and her mouth dropped and her eyes
popped open. She breathed, "Oh, you didn't."
Martha looked into the box. "Well, what is it? What --? Oh, how
nice. Look at that fabric, good lord. Come on, Ronnie, take it out."
Still clasping her face, Ronnie looked at me, smiling and aston-
ished.
I blushed.
Ronnie said, "How did you *do* that? When?"
I said, "While you were looking for the scarf."
She nudged her lips at me in playful anger. "Oh, you are such
a -- If I had known you were gonna do this to me..."
Martha grinned and chuckled. "You have to keep your eyes on
Steven, Ronnie."
Ronnie said, "God, you're such a bandit."
I shrugged. "Well, it's supposed to be a surprise."
"Yeah, but if I'd known what you were doing when I went off
and --"
Martha said, touching the sweater, "Well, come on, stop talking
and let's see the darn thing."
Ronnie pulled the sweater out of the box and put it on, and she
closed the sweater around her and looked down at it. "Oooh, this is
wonderful. Oh!"
Martha said, "Looks a lot better than that old rag you picked up
at Sach's, huh?"
Ronnie breathed, ecstatic, "Oooh, shit."
Martha smiled at me. "I think that's Ronnie talk for thank-you,
hon."
"Yes, Steven, thank you!"
I said, "You're welcome."
Martha looked at me. "This cost you a fortune, didn't it?"
I blushed, and held up a hand. "We don't talk about that."
"Well...all right. But I know it did."
I gestured toward the two cakes. "The candles were free."
Martha smirked. "The candles. You're so cute."
Ronnie, blushing like mad, walked toward me. "Don't move."
I said, "Now, don't get hysterical."
She came to me quickly, but she slowed, and she put her lips very,
very gently against my cheek. She whispered, "Thank you. You sneak."
Martha said, "Oh, my card."
Ronnie said, "Yeah, you didn't read your card."
We watched Martha open the envelope and pull out the card. She
read merrily, "For you on your birthday." She grinned at us, "Well,
that wasn't too complicated." She opened the card. Her smile
softened, and her chin trembled briefly and she swallowed hard. She
whispered, "Whatever happens."
Ronnie said, "Whatever happens?"
Martha closed the card and said, blushing, "That's just...some-
thing from Steven."
Ronnie said, glancing at her, "Oh. Must have been nice."
Martha said, "Yes. It is." She laid the card on the dining
table.
Then Ronnie picked up the last present, the book-sized flat one
in pale blue wrapping paper lying beside the two bigger boxes. She
handed the present to Martha. "And this is from me."
Martha said, "Ronnie, you shouldn't have spent money on me, we
usually just give cards."
"No, I didn't spend. I didn't have it to spend. I made it."
Martha started unwrapping carefully, and Ronnie frowned impa-
tiently again and sighed, "Martha..."
Martha smiled and said "All right" and ripped the ribbon away
quickly, while Ronnie glanced at me and said, "Now you know why Martha
and I aren't roommates any more."
Martha held up the gift, a pen and ink drawing on matte paper set
onto a heavy matte frame. "Oh, Ronnie. The Fire Island beach. This
is beautiful."
Ronnie blushed. "I did the original in pencil while you guys were
napping. But I had to re-work it at home in ink."
"You do such beautiful work. Steven, look at this."
I looked at the drawing. It was a view looking down the beach,
framed by a group of high, wind swept reed, with the sky and ocean
beyond. And it was very good, full of subtle line and detail. I
said, "Ronnie that's so good. You can just feel the quality of the
breeze, and...everything."
Martha kissed Ronnie on the cheek. "Thank you, Ron."
"Okay."
Martha looked at Ronnie again for a second, and hugged her again.
Ronnie gave her a pat on the back. "Okay, honey."
Martha straightened up and took a big breath, and blushed. "Oh,
embarrassed." Ronnie and I laughed, and Martha set the picture on the
table. "I'd better get out of this coat, so we can dig into the
cake." But she gazed silently at the birthday card I had given her.
Ronnie took off the sweater and folded it and walked back to the
table, and started putting both sweaters in the box. "Well, c'mon,
let's move this stuff."
Martha said quietly, "Okay, I'll...just a minute, I'll be back."
She picked up the card, and she walked to me and gave me a kiss on the
cheek and a hug, and she brought the card into the bedroom.
Ronnie stood over one of the cakes, holding the plastic cake
knife. She called, "Martha! Come on, we didn't blow out the candles!
The candles are burning down!" She looked at me. "Hey, you wanna
make some coffee to have with this?"
I said, "I'm not supposed to drink coffee, y'know."
Ronnie grinned at me. "Make some. You're gonna need it, you
sneaky little devil."
PART 18E:
In the candlelight Martha's teeth and eyes glinted as she lay
naked under me, knees drawn back, grinning up at me. She held my cock
at the root with one hand and she watched my eyes while I entered her.
I groaned as her creamy pussy closed around me. Her grin widened
when I started screwing.
She whispered, "Fuck. Fuck." Her cunt gripped, tight.
I groaned again, my head arching back.
Martha whispered, "Fuck." I looked at her eyes. They sparkled
with lust. I knew by the look in them that she was going crazy
again. Her cunt stayed tight around me.
I gasped, "Oh! Martha! So good!"
She whispered, "Fuck."
Ronnie was sitting up beside me, her lips near my ear. She
whispered, "Fuck her, Steven."
Martha taunted me with whispers from below and Ronnie with
whispers beside me. I wasn't going to last long, and we'd barely got
started.
I looked down at Martha's wildly lascivious grin. I gasped,
"You're gonna make me cum like that. You're both driving me crazy."
Martha teased, "That's the idea."
I slowed down. The wild itch was already growing in me. I slowed
more, and I said, "Not yet."
Martha said, "Want to take your time?"
I stopped moving, staying deep in her and catching my breath. I
said, "Yeah. Let's slow down."
Martha smiled and calmed a little. I looked at her and I made my
cock twitch inside her.
She closed her eyes. "Mmm."
I twitched again, and again.
She said, "You know I like that."
"Yes."
Beside me, Ronnie ran her hand over my butt and down the crack and
then to my balls. She kissed my shoulder. I paused for a few seconds
and twitched inside Martha again, and Martha sighed, her cunt squeez-
ing me back. Ronnie's hand pressed the muscle under my balls, and I
moaned.
Ronnie whispered, "Feels good, huh?"
"Yeah."
She pressed again, massaging slowly.
I closed my eyes. "Mmmm." I twitched inside Martha again, and
again.
Ronnie pulled her head back. "You cummin'?"
"No."
"What's goin' on down there?"
Martha told her, "He's pulsing inside me."
"Yeah? He can do that?"
"Of course."
"I didn't know he could do that. On purpose? It felt like he
came."
Martha chuckled, "Ronnie, you're such a virgin."
"Yeah, right." She kept her fingers on that muscle. She looked
at me. "Do that again."
I twitched.
Ronnie smiled. "That's so sexy." She whispered, "That's dark."
I said, "Yeah?"
"It's so subtle. How long can you do that?"
"For a while."
"Mmm." Ronnie moved away from me, settling on her side, leaning
on an elbow near Martha's shoulder. She looked at Martha, "You can
cum like that?"
Martha nodded. "Eventually, I guess."
I twitched in her, a couple of times, and Martha gave a quiet
"Mmm," and her wet pussy gave my dick a prolonged squeeze, and I let
out a soft sigh, and inside her was a wet, wrinkled, soft fist that
clenched my dick, clinched again, and my dick pulsed and I sighed
again. Martha removed her hand from my root and placed her hands on
my shoulders and looked down at the flesh that joined us. She
started a rythmic contracting and releasing of her cunt. I closed
my eyes and whimpered.
Ronnie asked, surprised, "Martha, what are you doing?"
Martha said, "Milking him. Milking his cock inside me." She
continued, gazing down at my cock in her.
Ronnie said, "God, where do you two learn all this stuff?"
Martha said, "We think them up as we go along. Mm, he likes it.
He's throbbing." While she milked me with contractions she churned
her hips a little. I moaned again, feeling new precum creep through
me.
I whispered, "Stop, now. Slow down. Slow down."
Ronnie looked up at me. "You gonna cum like that?"
I panted, "Not yet."
Ronnie smirked, and settled on her tummy, her head near Martha's.
"I don't believe you two. How long can you do this?"
Martha said, "I don't know. We never tried it this way for long."
I shifted on my extended arms over Martha, regaining my balance.
Martha said, "Tired, hon?"
"No. Just resting." I looked down at her. "Take it easy for a
while."
"Okay."
"It feels good."
"Good. Me too."
We rested for a moment, and Ronnie casually caressed Martha's
shoulder.
Ronnie breathed softly, "So many ways to give pleasure. I like
this. It's dark."
After a few moments I began arching my cock inside Martha again,
giving her two or three twitches between pauses, and Martha began
squeezing in return, but I told her, "No, you just enjoy it. Let me
do it for you."
She said, "Okay," and she smiled at me, waiting.
I twitched a couple of times, and then I adjusted my position, my
cock pressed more tightly against her clit, and twitched, and she
raised her hips and moaned pleasantly. I slid my cock out and in
slowly a couple of times, then I waited, then I twitched.
She breathed a sultry "Ahhh."
"You like that?"
"Yes."
"Wanna see if you can you cum that way?"
"Mm. Let's try."
"Try not to move too much, now, it feels really good when you do."
She looked up at me. "I might have to move a little, now and
then, or I'll never get there. Think you'll be okay?"
I smiled down at her. "We'll find out."
"Okay."
I looked into her eyes. "This is good."
"Yes."
I began twitching in her, contracting my sphincter and tummy a few
times and pausing, then arching my cock slowly again, then moving in
and out a little. She closed her eyes and her head fell back, her
knees falling to each side of her, the palms of her hands flat against
my shoulders. Ronnie gave me a knowing little smile, and as Martha
relaxed into the new technique, Ronnie began caressing her shoulder.
For ten or fifteen minutes I kept it up, getting very excited inside
Martha's squishy, gripping cunt as her pleasure grew and while
Ronnie's lips pleased Martha's breasts. As it got better for Martha
she began to move her hips subtly now and then, scrubbing her clit
against me, and I would fuck her gently for a brief moment until it
just got too good for me before going back to twitching in her and
pressing my root against her nub. Martha's pussy became progressively
tighter. She gave strong contractions more and more often and began
to sigh and moan. And Ronnie grew more and more enthralled and
absorbed in the act, whispering now and then to Martha, asking her how
it felt. But soon Martha could no longer respond to her. She lay
with her eyes shut tight and her neck arching, her pelvis writhing
more frequently and fervently. Ronnie's lips on Martha's nipples
toyed more lovingly, giving long sucks and much gentle, wet licking,
and Martha seemed to enjoy it greatly. It was making me pretty damn
horny, too. Then Martha's cunt tightened more urgently, her breathing
more strenuous and jagged.
I whispered to her, "Gettin' close?"
Martha sighed, "Yes! Ohyes!"
I pumped gently in and out, slowly, my cock hard against her
swollen clit, and I whispered soothingly, "Take your time, now. I'm
okay. Let it get good."
She answered with a moaned, "Yes!"
Ronnie raised her head from Martha's nipple and began to kiss
softly along Martha's shoulder and asked her, "Is it dark? Is it
dark, Martha?" and Martha breathed blissfully, "Oh! Oh!" Ronnie
squeezed Martha's nipples, rolling them between her fingers, and
Martha moaned and arched her hips for a moment and Ronnie whispered,
"Is that good?" and Martha nodded yes, starting to pant. Then Ronnie
watched Martha's face and her lips made their way to Martha's neck,
and she gave Martha's neck a little lick, and then a longer lick
upward, and a kiss on Martha's chin and then Martha's cheek, and
Ronnie's lips touched Martha's for a second, and moved away. Martha
shivered, the vibration moving from her legs upward and to her
shoulders, and I felt the beginning of the slow, continual tightening
inside her, her upper wall sinking and her outer ring gripping, and I
knew she would climax soon. I slowed and lengthened my strokes in
her, feeling her slick essence seep out of her, and I whispered, "Yes,
Martha. Ahh, Yes." Martha whimpered. She swallowed hard and
whispered a strained "Oh", and Ronnie's hand that played with Martha's
nipple began to stroke downward, and she looked at Martha's face as
the hand moved down. Then Ronnie's fingernails moved into Martha's
tuft and played there, stroking back and forth in Martha's soft auburn
patch, and Ronnie whispered to Martha, "Happy birthday, Martha.
Steven and I love you. We love you." Then Martha's pelvis ground
against mine feverishly, her cunt dripping, and her pelvis went around
and around and around against mine, and then she groaned. She
whimpered Ronnie's name weakly, and then she started cumming. Her
head rose and her mouth hung open and Ronnie's head rose with
Martha's, and Ronnie smiled at her as Martha whimpered, the pitch
of her voice rising, "Oh! Oh! OH!" Then Martha froze with her
rapture, her cunt sucking, and sucking again, and Ronnie whispered,
"Yeah. Mm, yeah." I stroked in and out of her heat, and Martha's
head and neck trembled and she breathed "Oh god!" painfully, and for a
long moment she was absolutely rigid and still while I fucked her.
And then she sighed "Ah," and her head began to fall back and she
sighed "Ah, ah, ahhh, ahhhh," and she started to relax. Ronnie kissed
Martha's forehead. Martha sighed, her hands loosening on my shoul-
ders, and I could feel that her nails had left marks there. I stopped
moving on Martha, settling deep into her, feeling her channel relax.
She felt extremely wet inside, her outer lips slick around my shaft.
Ronnie's hand left Martha's pelvis and cradled Martha's face, and
Ronnie spoke softly to her. "There, honey. There, it was good. It
was a good cum."
Martha's reached up and held Ronnie's stroking hand tightly. She
gasped, "Oh my god! Oh! Oh, I'm worn out!"
Ronnie chuckled. "Well, I guess so! You okay?"
"Yes. Oh, yes!"
I settled onto Martha, burying my face in her neck, and her arm
went around my head and hugged me to her while she panted. I let my
cock slip out of her, and she gave a little moan, surprised, and I
whispered against her neck, "Don't worry. Just resting. I'm not
ready yet." I chuckled against her ear. "We have a long way to go
yet."
Martha gave a soft laugh and said, "Oh, no."
It took Martha several minutes to relax. She seemed to linger in
a dreamy post-orgasmic haze. Her eyes looked glazed and sumptuous
when she finally sat up and looked at Ronnie and whispered to her,
"Lie down, Ronnie."
Ronnie looked at her questioningly and Martha smiled and reminded
her, "It's your birthday party, too, right?"
Ronnie said, "Right," and she lay down in the middle of the bed,
her head on a pillow and one arm draped behind her head. She waited
with a soft smile as Martha settled onto her side, resting on an elbow
at Ronnie's left, and I lay on Ronnie's right and bent to kiss her
neck.
Ronnie whispered to me, "But don't make me wait so long this time.
I'm almost there already."
I said, "I'm almost there, too."
I kissed and nipped from neck to waist and up again, and she lay
with her eyes closed, quietly enjoying. Martha caressed Ronnie's arm
with her fingertips, and her fingers soon moved gently along Ronnie's
shoulder and along her neck, and as Martha's fingertips stroked
Ronnie's long, slender neck, Ronnie let her face fall to the other
side and she smiled. Martha whispered, "Is that nice?" and Ronnie
whispered, "Yes. Feels good, Martha." Martha continued to let her
fingers and nails roam gently over Ronnie's arm and shoulder and neck
while I moved my mouth to Ronnie's breast, licking and kissing. I
licked around and around the dark aureoles for a while, and then I
licked her nipples. I pinched them between my lips, pulling up
firmly. Ronnie breathed a quiet "Nnn." I nursed her nipples for many
minutes, tending to both of them until they were jutting stiffly, and
my fingers toyed with her thighs and hips and around her delicate
slit. When her breathing became broken after several minutes I knew
she was floating into her darkness, and I sensed her faint, spicy
aroma. Martha starting giving Ronnie's shoulder soft kisses while she
caressed Ronnie's arm and neck. I let my finger probe inside Ronnie's
slit and found her open and dripping, and she began to pant as my
finger moved up an down the length of her slit, sparing her clit for
the time being. I planned on saving her clit for last.
I rose on my arms and shifted my body over hers, and she spread
her legs a little and I settled onto her warm, supple length, my face
over her navel. I looked up and Martha smiled at me, her eyes heavy-
lidded and fuming, and she blew me a little kiss. I pursed my lips,
sending her a little kiss as well, and I kissed Ronnie's tummy and
licked around and around her navel and then into it, and Ronnie smiled
and sighed. Then I began licking, licking slowly down one side of her
tummy and down to her hip bone, and I slid my body lower, and I kissed
the soft, silky black feather of her patch, and I rested my cheek on
it for a moment, smelling her scent and her flesh, letting her warmth
soak into the skin of my cheek. I heard a rustle of movement and I
lifted my eyes to see Martha leaning closer over Ronnie, Martha's
fingertips drawing slow lines across Ronnie's collarbone from shoulder
to shoulder, and Martha watched Ronnie's closed eyes and parted lips.
Martha kept watching Ronnie and caressing her while I settled lower
into Ronnie's lap, and my lips trailed kisses down Ronnie's left
thigh. She raised her knees and let her slim thighs fall open, her
pussy completely open to me, and my tongue made little licks upward
along the inside of her thigh, and Ronnie's breath quickened. I
licked upward, nearing her cunt. I looked up to see Martha's fingers
skimming circles around Ronnie's breasts, first one and then the
other, and then Martha's fingers cupped one of Ronnie's nipples and
pinched, and pulled, and Ronnie gave a barely audible moan. Martha
kept watching her, pinching and pulling the nipple. I lowered my head
and extended my tongue, and my tongue ran a long, slow line up one
side of Ronnie's slit, and Ronnie breathed a quiet "ohhh." I let my
tongue linger at the top of her slit and then let it stroke down the
other side of the long slit, and her hips rose a little. And then I
watched as Martha's fingertips crept in deliberate, narrow circles
downward, down to Ronnie's tummy, and her fingernails made slow sweeps
back and forth, back and forth, and while I gave Ronnie's slit slow
licks upward, Martha's fingers began to play in Ronnie's pubic curls,
pulling, caressing, circling.
Slowly I licked Ronnie's pussy, all the way up and then down, and
Ronnie's breath trembled, and then I began to lick with a lethargic
rhythm, my tongue's tip softly touching, and I could feel her petals
flowing with her and parting for me, spreading. Then Ronnie held her
breath, and I raised my eyes again, and I saw Martha slowly licking
Ronnie's neck, slowly upward, upward again, and I let my tongue slow
on Ronnie's cunt while I watched. Martha licked Ronnie's chin, and
then Martha leaned closer to her, her face hovering near Ronnie's that
was turned slightly to one side. Then Martha bent her head and licked
slowly up the middle of Ronnie's throat, and Ronnie turned her face
upward and arched her neck and gave a small gasp, and Martha raised
her head again and looked down into Ronnie's face. Martha watched
Ronnie intently as the hand that played in Ronnie's patch laid flat on
it and then slowly, slowly slid down. I stopped licking, raising my
head a little. I watched as Martha's lips parted while she watched
Ronnie's closed eyes, and then Martha's hand crept down and covered
Ronnie's pussy, cupping it, and it rested there. Ronnie gave a
trembling sigh and took in her breath again. I watched Martha's
middle finger press into the length of Ronnie's slit, and Ronnie
swallowed, and Martha whispered to her almost inaudibly, "Feel good?"
Ronnie swallowed and whispered softly, "Yes." Then Martha's finger
pressed a little more, and her finger bent inward, searching, and her
finger rose in the slit and then stopped, and then it made a little
circle, and Ronnie let out a soft, trembling breath and lifted a hand
from her side and placed it on the back of Martha's neck.
Martha watched her, concentrating on Ronnie's closed eyes. Then
Martha's fingers made another slow circle on Ronnie's clit, and
Ronnie's breath trembled again and she swallowed hard again. Martha's
fingers circled and circled, pressing into Ronnie's leafy folds,
stirring them aside and outward, and the petals clung to Martha's
delicate fingers as the slow circles opened Ronnie's pussy. Martha
whispered, "Okay?" and Ronnie whispered tensely, "Yes." Then Martha's
fingers stopped for a moment, and then a single finger lowered and it
pressed into Ronnie's slit. I watched the finger slowly enter,
slowly, and I saw Martha working the finger a little, only an inch
inside Ronnie, and I knew Martha had encountered the same tight entry
point that I had always found just inside Ronnie. Martha frowned, the
finger working gently for a second, and I saw Ronnie's thighs and
pelvis relax, and then Martha gave a smile as the finger dipped
inside, deeper, and Ronnie moaned, her hips rising as the slender
finger disappeared into her opening. Martha bent and unbent the
finger and it went in and out of Ronnie slowly, and Ronnie's thighs
seemed to fall limply farther apart, and Ronnie sighed a warm, hushed
"Ahhhh." Martha smiled at her and whispered, "Okay, hon?" and Ronnie
whispered fervently "Ohh, yes!" Martha smiled again, watching
Ronnie's face while her finger slowly fucked her.
I lifted my head farther and then I rose, resting against my
heels. I wiped sweat off my brow, and I watched Martha and Ronnie.
Martha glanced at me, and then smiled back at Ronnie and murmured,
"She's so soft inside. So that's what you feel inside her." I
whispered, "Yes." And Martha said again, "So that's what you feel."
I smiled at Martha and whispered gently, "That's what I feel inside
you, too." Martha whispered, "Oh. Now I know." Martha's finger
slowed, going in and out, then stopped, then withdrew, and Ronnie
seemed to relax with a small sigh, her eyes still closed, her fingers
on the back of Martha's neck caressing briefly. Then Ronnie's hand
was still again as Martha's fingers moved to Ronnie's clit and
pressed. Ronnie's eyes tightened a little, and then Martha's finger
began to slowly circle Ronnie's clit and Ronnie gulped hard and
breathed "Ohhh" again. Martha whispered, "This way?" and Ronnie
whispered, "Slower." Then Martha said, "Like that?" and Ronnie said
dimly, "Yes. Yes." Martha fingered Ronnie's clit again and again and
again, and I watched Martha's fingertip and painted fingernail glisten
with Ronnie's moisture. Ronnie began to hold her breath and let it
out quickly and gasp inward and hold it. Her legs seemed to spread
even farther apart, not relaxing but tensing, the long tendons
stretched tight. Below Martha's circling finger, Ronnie's pussy was
open, the tender lips curling outward.
I rose onto my arms and straightened my legs, and Martha glanced
at me, but her gaze returned to Ronnie's closed-eyed, tensed face. I
hovered over Ronnie's body, my cock jutting, and I lowered my cock
below her crotch and moved forward, feeling the knuckle of Martha's
bending finger graze my patch, and I let my tip nudge into the lips.
Ronnie whispered a sudden "oh god." I slid my cock ahead, and I met
the wet resistance, and Ronnie whispered "Oh god" and raised her hips
a little, and I pushed my cock in, and Ronnie's mouth fell open and
she squinted hard and whimpered, and I slid deeper and she sighed
outward with a quick, breathless "Ah." Martha grinned at her, and I
felt the finger continue its circling near my cock. And an almost
mystical, delicious lust swept up my back, and I heard my breath
quiver with the lust and the pleasure when I began slowly fucking
Ronnie while Martha fingered her. I lifted up a little, half an inch
or so, giving Martha's hand more freedom. I wasn't as deep into
Ronnie as before, but it was still good and hot and wet. After a few
strokes I stopped fucking, holding my climax back, and I started
twitching my cock inside Ronnie's tight channel. Ronnie's head went
farther back, her throat extended, and she groaned, and then she
breathed "Oh...fuck." Her cunt started to tighten, and I started
twitching inside her strongly, my teeth gritting with my growing
salaciousness, and I grunted with pleasure and I sighed "Ah, ahhh,"
while I twitched in her.
Martha grinned at Ronnie and whispered, "Is it dark, hon? Hm?"
And Ronnie moaned, as if in an agony of pleasure, her moan low
and gutsy, "Ohhh, yes! Oh god!" Martha whispered, encouraging,
"Good, Ronnie. Good." Then Ronnie's hips rose a little, and I
twitched and twitched in her, and she whimpered, and then Martha
leaned closer to Ronnie's lips and whispered hotly, "You're getting
closer. Cum." Ronnie held her breath, and her head rose off the
pillow. Then Martha's lips touched Ronnie's and she whispered again,
gently, "Cum," and Ronnie whispered, her breath broken to pieces, her
whisper full of the sweet, joyful terror of the nearing climax,
"Martha. Martha," and then Ronnie started cumming, her cunt tighten-
ing fiercely around my dick. I sighed deeply, feeling her cervix
suck, and then while Ronnie came she pulled Martha's head down and
they kissed, Ronnie whimpering painfully while their mouths writhed,
and I started fucking her and Ronnie squinted harder while she kissed
Martha. Then Ronnie's head fell back, and Martha looked at her,
smiling lovingly, her finger still moving. And Ronnie, gasping,
reached down and held Martha's hand, panting, "Okay! Okay! Oh! Oh
god!" And I kept fucking, probing greedily now for my own finish,
feeling her cunt slacken. I let my hips pump high, pulling out of her
nearly to my tip and then pumping in deep, deep, hearing myself grunt
with the pleasure of my long strokes in and out. I plunged deeper,
and Martha removed her gleaming wet finger and caressed one of
Ronnie's nipples with it. I stroked and stroked, letting the crazy
pleasure build. Her sweet cunt was tight from her climax, enclosing,
siphoning. I felt the frenzy of pleasure in my gut and I hissed hotly
"Ah, fuck." Then the cum gushed hard and I bowed my head and sighed
gruffly "Ah. Ahhh!" and I felt like an animal, a rutting animal,
barely aware of Ronnie's whimpers and gasps, and the pleasure devoured
my brain when Ronnie's cunt gripped, begging for cum. My balls
loosened with the peaking, draining gush and I heard my loud "Mmmm!"
and I heard Ronnie chanting with soft whimpers, "Oh. Oh cum. Oh.
Oh." Then I slowed, luxuriating in the lush physicality of my shaft
sliding in the hot, cum-slick slush inside Ronnie while the finishing
squirts sluiced into her. I let my cock glide in and out, soaking up
all I could from her flesh. And finally I rested above her. I'd
ventured into the dark, and I'd embraced it. It felt mighty goddamn
good. It was still scary, but in the right way.
Later I napped, flat on my back. A soft voice whispered above my
face. "Hey. We gotta go to work tomorrow."
I opened my eyes. Ronnie smiled gently at me, her blue eyes glow-
ing warmly into mine. She held a palm against my cheek. She said,
"I'll give you a call tomorrow." She kissed me softly. "Thank you
for that sweater. Thank you for my birthday." Then she gave me a
long, gentle kiss, her tongue fishing for mine, and then she lifted
her face. "Call you later."
She scooted off the bed in her blouse and skirt, and at the bed-
room door I saw Martha in her bathrobe waiting for Ronnie, smiling at
her. Ronnie gave me another little goodbye wave on her way out, and
Martha saw her into the living room. I heard them talk together
softly and briefly, and then Martha closed and locked the door. The
kitchen light went out, and Martha came into the bedroom.
I sat up, wondering how long I'd napped.
She got on the bed and crawled to me quickly, pushing me down and
lying on top of me, the cloth ties of her bathrobe tangled around us.
She held me tightly, her face against mine, her whispers agitated.
"Oh, honey! Hold me! I was so wicked!"
I thought: Oh, hell, what now?
I held her tight, looking around the room and trying to wake up.
She clung to me, breathing hard.
I said, "What's the matter?"
"Just hold me. I have to think." She said after a few seconds,
more quietly, "I have to think."
"About what?"
"Shh. Hold me."
I held her for a while, and she didn't move on me. After a minute
I rolled her over, and her face was tense. She put her arms around me
and I buried my face against her neck and held her for a while longer.
She settled down after a few minutes and caressed my back.
I raised my head. "You okay now?"
She seemed calm, but her eyes wandered. "Yes, I -- I'll be back."
She sat up and quickly got off the bed and went into the bathroom.
Several minutes later she returned, looking completely calm. She
reached for the night table lamp, whispering, "It's so late!" She
turned out the light. She quickly let the bathrobe slip from her and
got into bed and snuggled on her side against me. I embraced her, and
she curled her luscious nakedness all around me, smiling against my
chest and hugging me back.
I asked, "All right?"
"Mm-hm. Sure." She snuggled her face against mine. She said,
"I'm afraid we left a mess in the kitchen sink."
I said, "I'll get it tomorrow."
She said, "You were so good to me tonight. And to Ronnie."
I hugged her.
She whispered, "I love you, hon."
I said, "I love you, too."
She whispered, "I know. I know, baby."
Martha never told me what had her so agitated a few moments
earlier. I never knew. All I could do was guess. But when it came
to Martha, any guess was wild, and probably incorrect.
Continued. . .
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