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Subject: {ASSM} Deferred Pleasure (MF FMF MFM Oral Anal) {Kellis} [4/7]
Date: Tue,  4 Jul 2000 20:10:04 -0400
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Deferred Pleasure

a Novelette by Kellis
June, 2000




Chapter 4:  A New Home



When she gave him the key, he opened the front door into a second
floor walkup:  living room/den, kitchen, bedroom and bath.  It
was furnished including television, dish washer and even kitchen
utensils.  A balcony on the back overlooked the community
swimming pool, empty now at dinner time.

Looking at the silverware in a sink drawer, he inquired with
raised eyebrows, "No monkey wrench?"

"This sink doesn't leak."  She turned away from him.  "I need a
shower.  Then I'll cook supper."

"I'll join you," he suggested.

The bathroom could be entered from bedroom or kitchen.  She
turned into the bedroom, again unzipping her skirt, opened a
closet and began hanging her clothing.  Several other garments
were already present.

He reached past her and fingered a sheer robe.  It was green.  "I
thought you said this apartment was newly rented."

"I didn't say that, though it is.  I signed the lease Monday,
'for Gerald Ballard.'  Your copy is in the top drawer of that
chest of drawers."

"Then what's this?"

"I moved a few things in here yesterday.  For me.  I couldn't
guess your size.  We can go tonight or tomorrow and buy you some
clothes."

"For you," he noted thoughtfully.

She said without looking at him, "I figured your revenge might
take awhile."  She went to the dresser and took out a shower cap.
When her hair was tucked into it, she turned to him.  "Thought
you meant to join me."

Though he stripped quickly, she already had the temperature
regulated to suit herself.  Chest to chest, they reached around
each other and washed the other's back.  When she felt his
erection on her belly, she soaped his genitals and took him in
hand.

He groused, "Too bad women don't have tits on their backs, too."

She laughed.  "Especially for dancing, huh?  Is this how you
bathed in prison?"

"No, but lots do."

"Really?  Don't the guards stop it?"

"I got the impression the guards don't give a shit."

"So the prisoners pair off in the showers?"

"I saw a lot of it.  Prison is queer heaven."  He grunted.  "I've
seen over a dozen guys lined up in a circle, each one's dick
stuck in the asshole in front of him."

"Really?  My god!"

He cocked a wet eyebrow.  "Are you interested in queer men,
Holly?"

She looked away, admitting softly, "For some things."

He laughed incredulously.  "Like what?  They don't use women!"

She said, "Maybe it just seems that way when no women are
around."

His soapy hand slipped far down her back.  "Or maybe you like
things here."

Her arms above his shoulders pulled them tighter together.  Her
face rested in the hollow of his neck.  His hand, reaching around
her hip, applied a wet fingertip to her anus.  She shivered when
the first digit penetrated.  "Thought you were hungry," she
murmured.

"Queers are better at this?" he asked.

"What they are better at is ... doing a woman together."

He released her and drew back slowly.

"Does that idea interest you, Gerry?"

"I ... don't think so."

"No?  Then how about two women doing the same man?"  Her eyes
searched his face.  What she saw produced a smile.

He took a breath.  "I'll admit I've dreamed about that once or
twice."

"Good."  She gave his penis a shake.  "I'm getting hungry now.
Come on.  Let me talk to you while I fix supper."

She found a robe for him to wear and took out the sheer green one
for herself.  She threw it on the bed, however, and posed briefly
before the full length mirror on the back of the bedroom door.
She turned to face him.  "Gerry, do you think I'm an attractive
woman?"

"Oh, yes!"

"I'm not too fat?"

"You're not fat.  You're the way a woman is supposed to look.  I
read an article about it somewhere.  Motherhood statistics show
that big tittied women with plump hips but narrow waists, like
yours, have twice the kids of skinny ones.  Are you attractive?
I can't speak for the guy in the next bunk, but you sure are to
me."

"It's risky, fishing for compliments, but sometimes it pays off.
Thank you, Gerry."  She smiled sunnily and took up the green
robe.  "I'm glad you feel that way."

Her nipples were dark shadows beneath the green nylon.  He felt
of the lapel.  "This isn't the same one, is it?"

"No, but I still have it.  The cops kept it for a long time."

"The cops?  They didn't suspect *you*, did they?"

"I don't think so.  It had your come on it."

His refrigerator was well stocked indeed, and she was a fast,
accomplished cook.  She had him dicing lettuce and tomato for
their salad while she pressed hamburger into very thin patties
and cooked them with onion rings in butter, sprinkling them with
a "secret mixture of spices" and layering cheese atop them at the
last.  He found salad dressing, relish, mayonnaise and ketchup on
the shelves and set the table for two.  The bottom of the
refrigerator was full of beer.  He opened one, commenting
dubiously, "Guess I better take it easy on this."  But it was
delicious.

So were her cheeseburgers.  "Well?" she asked pointedly as he
swallowed his first bite.

"Better than a deluxe," he agreed solemnly.

"I told you," she remarked smugly.

Clean up was quick.  When the dishwasher was loaded and started,
he stood behind her, lifting and squeezing her breasts.  "I
thought we were going to talk," he suggested.

Her hand worked into his robe and enclosed his genitals.  She
turned her mouth against his chin.  "You said I was attractive."

"Is that what you want to talk about?  *These* are attractive.
*You* are beautiful!"

"And I showed you I'm willing."

"Yeah.  And I'm hoping you'll tell me what *makes* you so
willing."

"Gerry, you're a pretty man, too, you know.  Prison didn't hurt
your looks, except for being a little pale.  Your shoulders have
filled out very nicely."

"You think so?"

"That shirt you had on.  It was the same one you wore ... before,
and it's too small for you."

"I'm surprised the pants still fit."

"You're age is 26, right?"

"Right.  How old are you, Holly?"

"In six months I'll be 30."

He sighed.  "I used to swear I'd be rich when I was 30."

"Maybe you will yet.  Could you stand a woman who's three years
older than you?"

"Stand her?  With titties like these?"

She did not protest as he, still behind her, tucked the front of
her robe open around her dangling breasts and squeezed one in
each hand.  She continued, "Could you stand her for more than
just playing with boobs?"

"Oh, there's more?"

"Lots more.  You say I'm attractive and you agree I'm willing.
And that's true, Gerry.  When I'm done, you'll know you can't
*find* a more willing one!"

He grinned.  "And you can cook great cheeseburgers."

"I love to cook.  What do you want in a woman, Gerry?"

"All those things.  Loyalty would be nice, too."

She spun around to face him within the circle of his arms.  Her
eyes were bright.  "'Loyalty,'" she repeated.  "That's what this
is about."

"What do you mean?"

"That's what you believe I don't have.  I'll admit you have good
reason.  I've killed one man and ruined another.  But I'm trying
to convince you I can still be a loyal woman."

He shook his head.  "You can't prove that by fucking."

"How about if I ... have sex anyway you say, with any*one* you
say, so long as it's in front of you?"

He stared at her.  "Why would you want to do that?"

She shrugged.  "I'm assuming you might want it.  When you
insisted on having anal sex, it told me something.  You've been
in prison for six years.  It couldn't help but change you.  You
are less concerned now with what people might think about you.
In a word, you are less inhibited.  You've learned just how
precarious life can be.  It's made you impatient.  You mean to
get what you can while the getting is good.

"Gerry, I'm telling you I can conform to that.  I'll help you get
whatever it is you want -- with only one restriction.  You can't
risk going back to prison."

"Ha!  That's exactly what I'm doing here with you right now!"

She grunted.  "Surely you don't think *I* would complain!"

"Wouldn't you?  How about the first time I do something you don't
approve of?  Suppose I bring another woman in here?"

She shook her head.  "You won't need to do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I'll get you one myself."

"And you think that will prove your loyalty?"

"Won't it?"

He stared at her, took a deep breath, turned away and lifted a
beer from the refrigerator.  She accepted one, too, and extracted
two pilsener glasses from the freezer compartment.  They sat at
the kitchen table and she poured both bottles.

"Holly, I think it's finally time you told me what this is all
about."

She looked into the rising bubbles.  "I want you, Gerry."

"Yeah," he agreed, "that's obvious even to me.  The question is,
for what reason and what use?"

She took a very deep breath and looked apprehensively up into his
eyes.  "I want to marry you."

"You *what*?"  His mouth fell open.

She blushed and looked away from his stare.  After a moment she
asked stiffly, "Is it such a ridiculous idea?"

"No, no."  He shook his head.  "Just let me get used to it, will
you?  You never remarried?"

"No, I didn't."

"What've you been *doing*, Holly?"

"I told you:  secretarial work.  I'm an executive secretary at
Bristol Industrials.  Right now I'm taking vacation."

"I mean, with men?"

"Oh, I've had boyfriends.  Men friends, I should say.  Nothing
serious."

"What do you call 'serious?'"

"Engagement.  Marriage."

"No fucking?"

Her eyes narrowed defiantly, then softened in submission.  "A
lot, by some standards."

"But no entanglements?"

She shrugged.  "None that matter.  I've always been careful with
the pills.  And Bristol pays for regular checkups on everything."

"This guy I'm going to work for:  one of your lovers?"

"Not him.  The man who knows him.  But it's not as if I'm his
mistress."

"No?"

"We do each other favors.  He's bi-sexual."

He took a long pull from his glass.  "Sounds like you're pretty
busy."

"As busy as I want to be.  I should say, *wanted* to be.  I've
pretty much disengaged from all that.  What happens next depends
on you."

"And you want to marry me?"

"Yes, Gerry.  I do."  She looked intently into his eyes.  He saw
that hers were wet.

He drew an uneasy breath.  "Again I have to ask *why*!  Look at
me:  an ex-convict on parole, a convicted felon with no future.
I'm relatively young, I guess, and it seems I can make your clit
tingle, but *marriage*?"  He laughed harshly.  "I guess I should
jump on it, if you're such a fool as to want me, but, Holly ...
I still have to know why."

"Wait here."

She got up and disappeared into the bedroom.  He heard a drawer
slide open.  She returned with a framed photograph, five by
seven, in her hand.  She stood it on the table in front of him
and again left the room.

It was the full-figured portrait of a very young girl, standing
alone in a child's bikini on the side of a swimming pool.  She
was well fleshed with smoothly rounded arms and legs but no
secondary sexual characteristic except the line between her
labia, a vertical shadow in the bikini bottom.  Her
below-the-shoulder hair was light brown, the same shade as
Holly's, and her face had Holly's square jaw.  But otherwise ...
The eyes were a striking blue, even in the unenlarged photograph.
Her features were unknown to Gerry but strangely familiar.  She
was lovely.

Holly had returned.  He looked up.  "Your daughter?"

She produced a free-standing mirror he had earlier noticed in the
bathroom, aligning it to show his own face.

"You mean ..."  His voice trailed off.  He shook his head.  "You
don't mean she's mine, too!"

"But I do.  Just look at her face beside yours!  More than that,
Gerry, your DNA identification is on record.  She *is* your
daughter, more yours than mine:  a 76 per-cent allele
correspondence."

"'Allele?'"

"The DNA analog to match-points in fingerprinting."

"What's her name?"

"Emily Jerry Naysmith.  I gave her my maiden name.  I hope to
change it to Ballard."

"Where is she now?"

"Visiting my sister in Connecticut.  She's a smart girl, Gerry,
smarter than I was at five.  She can fly alone."

"She's beautiful!"

The woman smiled.  "Oh, yes!"

"*Jerry*?"

"I knew she was yours as soon as I saw her face.  I suspected it
before.  I had quit the pills, hoping a baby might straighten my
husband out.  The ... sex with you was about the strongest I ever
had.    My friends tell me that's when you're most likely to
conceive."

"You want an ex-con for your girl's daddy?"

"I want my girl's daddy to be her father.  *Our* girl's."

He picked up the photograph to study at close range.  "This makes
a difference, Holly."

"I hoped it would."

"You did know I was raised in an orphanage, didn't you?  I have
no idea of my own ancestry."

"I knew.  I don't see that it matters.  Your ancestry is hers,
whether known or not."

"She'll have no grandparents on my side."

"Neither did you."

"Yeah, and look how I turned out!"

"You do have bad luck, don't you?  As I told you, Gerry, I'm
hoping to make that up to you, as much as I can."

He held the photograph close.  "Poor kid, she's got my nose."

"You have a nice, slender nose."

"A bit too long.  But on her it looks ..."

"Insouciant."

He laughed warmly.  "That sounds good, whatever it means."

"I think we made a very pretty child, Gerry."

"Well, I sure won't disagree!  A sister in Connecticut?  Are your
parents living?"

"No.  Only the older sister.  Our parents died in a plane crash
returning home from my wedding."

"Good god, Holly!"

"People whispered it was a bad omen for my marriage.  They were
right."

"Coincidence."

"You're not a mystic, Gerry?"

"If you're asking whether I believe claims that can't be
verified, the answer is no."

Her eyes rounded in concern.  "I hope you'll make one exception."

"What's that?"

"At least provisionally.  I hope you'll believe I can be loyal to
you."

He looked at her sharply.  "I think in a way you *have* been for
most of five years."

"Gerry!" she breathed.  "Do you mean that?"

"In a way.  How many men did you fuck while I was gone?"

"I ..."  Her face paled.  "I don't know."

"More than ten?"

"Ye-es."

"More than 20?"

"Maybe.  I went to a lot of parties in five years."

"Fucking parties?  Orgies?"

"Single women don't get invited to much else."

"God!  I'll bet you had a ball."

"I got tired of it."

"Did you?  How did it work?  You fucked anybody that came at
you?"

"Pretty much, after a few drinks.  Are you really interested in
this, Gerry?"

"What do you think?  I was lying up in my bunk whacking off and
dreaming about such a life.  A party every night?"

"Oh, no!  Two or three times a month.  But I dated men, too.  The
first couple of years.  Then it sort of shook down to a few
regulars.  I haven't been to a really uninhibited party in a long
time."

"More than 20 men, but you couldn't find *one* that suited you?"

"I didn't say that.  And truthfully, there were a *lot* more than
20 men.  Some of them were very exciting.  But none of them was
the DNA-certified father of my child."

"That's what I mean.  You've been very loyal in your own way.  It
brings to mind that girl in *Kiss Me, Kate*, the long-legged
dancer who sang that she was 'True to you in my fashion.'"

"You like musicals?"

"I've had occasion to learn something about old movies.  So you
waited for me for five years, got me a job and a place to stay,
just so you could marry your kid's natural father -- all right,
*our* kid.  Does blood really mean so much to you, Holly?"

The woman took a deep breath.  She stood up and threw off her
robe.  At eye level her nipples riveted his attention.  "You can
analyze the sense out of any relationship, Gerry.  Fundamentally
between a man and a woman it comes down to this."  She spread her
hands and bowed her head.

He stood also, took her under the arms and set her on the edge of
the table, then knelt between her legs.  "You sure know how to
change the subject."  He rubbed her belly.  "You had ... Jerry
naturally?"

"Not by cesarean, if that's what you mean."

"Practically no stretch marks, either."

"Thanks.  I must have used gallons of Skinslip."

"I can guess what that is.  I'm glad you did."

"What are you doing?"

"Prying you open.  Does it hurt?"

"N-no.  Not really."

"Incredible that a baby's head has been through here."

"Why is it I get the impression you never looked up a woman
before?"

"Sexually speaking, Holly, I'm still 20 years old."

"Almost a cherry, are you?"

"Thanks to you."

"Well, I'll resume fixing that as soon as you finish there."



	*  *  *  *



Later they lay on their sides in the double bed, her buttocks
against him, his still partly erect penis pressing her vulva from
behind.  Her head rested on his outflung arm.  His free hand
cupped a breast.

He said, "I just realized.  I can't marry you.  I'd have to tell
my P. O."

"So?"

"I'm under orders not to let you so much as lay eyes on me."

She giggled.  "They wouldn't believe I kept my eyes closed?"

"And something else.  What if they get the idea we colluded
somehow to kill your husband?"

"We never saw each other before you rang my doorbell.  Let them
prove otherwise."

"That reminds me.  Holly, I'd like to ask you a question."

"Go ahead.  I have no secrets from you, Gerry."

"Don't you?  All right.  I was originally charged with second
degree murder and rape.  They dropped the rape and lowered the
murder to Manslaughter One.  My lawyer said it was because you
refused to testify.  You claimed not to remember anything.  Was
that true?"

"Yes."

He grunted.  "I'm always asking you, 'Why?'"

"A week after ... it happened ... I missed a period.  My husband
had been turning hateful.  He and I had screwed hardly at all,
about once, since the last period.  I suspected my baby was
yours."  She raised up and turned around, propping herself on an
elbow.  Her eyes sparkled in the dim glow leaking through the
blinds from the distant streetlight.  "And it finally penetrated
what I had done to you, the man who fixed the sink I'd been
nagging my husband about for six months.  My conscience bothered
me a lot, just not enough for the truth.  At the pretrial
conference I told the prosecutor I couldn't remember anything
that happened that day.  He said all right, he would read my
grand jury testimony into the record.  I guess he changed his
mind.  But let me ask *you* a question."

"Shoot."

"Why in the world did you confess to killing Bill?  You never
even saw him!"

"My fingerprints all over the wrench -- and the blood on it that
wasn't there the last time *I* saw it!"

"That made you confess?"

"I confessed to get six years instead of 25."

"Oh, Gerry!"  Her face contorted.  "I did too good a job, didn't
I!"  She fell against him and began to kiss down his chest.  She
moaned nasally, pausing long enough to wail, "Oh, I do wish I
could live that day over!  I'm so sorry, Gerry!"

She stroked his chest and side.  Abruptly she swung lower and
engulfed his entire penis.  Her hands massaged his testicles
while her tongue re-erected him.  She raised her head, cheeks
glittering with tears, and cried, "Except for one thing.  Our
Emily.  If I hadn't framed you, Emily wouldn't exist.  Can you
forgive me for her sake?"

Her head went down again without waiting for his answer.  He let
her proceed while he reached over and stroked the tight muscles
in her back.

After a while he said, "Holly, you've already got my juice twice
tonight.  Do you think sucking dick is some kind of penance?"

She raised up.  He could see only her bright eyes.  "I mean to
make it up to you, Gerry, any way I can."

He smiled.  "Well, I can't fault your start on that."

She whispered, "Thank you, Gerry."

"But don't kill yourself.  Come up here and kiss me and lay your
head on my shoulder."

She obeyed and lay licking the corner of his mouth after their
lips finally parted.  She took a breath and said, "By many
people's standards, I guess I'm a depraved woman, Gerry.  I enjoy
most kinds of sex and don't mind the rest.  As long as it's not
done just to hurt, I'm your girl.  Do you want to do things to
me?  Are you curious about a woman's body?  I'm the girl for
that, too."

He thought about it.  "All because I was lucky enough to father a
child on you?"

"Isn't that good enough for a start?  And Gerry, don't worry
about your parole officer.  I know how to handle him."

"How?"

"I'll write him a letter, saying that I want to invite you to
dinner, that I've learned you're the father of my daughter."

"You'll do that?"

"Yes.  Next month.  Give it a little time...  Gerry, will you ...
try to love me just a little?"

"Just a little, eh?"

"Please?"

He chuckled and pulled her tighter against his chest.  "Didn't I
already tell you?  I'm a sucker for Holly Moore."

"How about Holly Ballard?"

"Either way.  God, you feel good!  Put your leg over me, will
you?"

"You're still hard."

"I don't mind if you play with it.  But this time don't take it
as a challenge, huh?"

He heard a smile in her voice.  "Do you admit to being sleepy?"

"Hell of a thing -- on my first night of freedom, too! ...
Holly, thank you.  I could never even imagine such sweetness as
this.  Somehow I think there's more to it than you've told me
yet, but I don't care.  If you've got another frame for me, slip
it on.  Let's see how I look."

"You worry too much.  Go to sleep, lover."  But her voice
conveyed her pleasure, and a hand cupped his testicles as he
dozed off.


[Next:  Chapter 5:  The Pistol]

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