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Subject: {ASSM} Tom's Diary 4-03-02 {Gina Marie Wylie} {teen, mF, mf, cons)
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<1st attachment, "Tom's_Diary_4-03-02.doc" begin>
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The following is fiction of an adult nature. If I believed in
setting age limits for things, you'd have to be eighteen to read
this and I'd never have bothered to write it. IMHO, if you can
read and enjoy, then you're old enough to read and enjoy.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
All persons here depicted are figments of my imagination and any
resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly a blunder on my
part.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Official stuff: Story codes: teen, mf, ff, fF, inc, con.
If stories like this offend you, you will offend ME if you read
further and complain. Copyright 2003, by Gina Marie Wylie.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I can be reached at gmwylie98260@hothothotmail.com, at least if
you remove some of the hots. All comments and reasoned
discussion welcome.
Below is my site on ASSTR:
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gina_Marie_Wylie/www/
My stories are also posted on StoriesOnline:
http://Storiesonline.net/
And on Electronic Wilderness Publishing:
http:// www.ewpub.org/
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Tom's Diary
Wednesday, April 3, 2002
There may be something better than waking up next to the person
you love; if there is, it's waking up with two of them next to
you.
I spent close to a half hour just looking at Mary and Elizabeth,
each separately and both together. Elizabeth's words about our
future together echoed again and again in my mind. Sure, I
didn't want to commit to the future, but here it was, right in
front of me.
Finally, I lay back, unable to come to terms with the conflict
between desire and reason. I'd stopped being a virgin less than
three weeks ago; I had, since then, had more than my fair share
of experience. In my heart, I knew I loved Elizabeth and Mary
more than I could ever love anyone else. And yet my brain
insistently whispered treason: This is the first month; what do
you know of the future?
Uncle Craig wanted me to be a money manager. My parents expected
me to go to college; it didn't matter what I studied, I'd been
told. The goal is to find something I liked and then finish my
degree, Dad had told me more than once. Fine, I could do that.
And if I couldn't marry Mary, I could sure get hitched to
Elizabeth. Yeah, I might have a few jokes come my way about
having a live-in mother-in-law but I could smile to myself and
ignore them.
How could I know now, today, what was going to be good for me in
a year? Five? When I hit the big three-oh people talked about?
Eligible for AARP?
I nearly laughed out loud, glancing at Elizabeth as I did. You
say you can see the future; that the future is us, the three of
us, plus some unspecified number of babies. Maybe you can see
the future, Elizabeth. But the rest of us can't. The answer,
when I thought about it, was clear: Most people look at today,
and base their plans for the future on that.
I had my answer when I woke up and looked at Mary and Elizabeth.
Nothing was better than this. It was up to us to make the future
as happy as the present. Time, I thought, to get started on the
future.
I leaned close to Mary, using just the tip of my tongue to
lightly tease around one of her awesomely large nipples. I'd
been at it for just a few minutes when her arm snaked around my
head, her fingers running through my hair.
I licked her nipples harder, and Mary leaned close. "I love you,
darling."
Elizabeth from the far side of Mary reached over, and ran her
hand along my shoulder, then kissed Mary on the neck. "You two,
enjoy. I'm going to get a warm shower, then go outside and
read."
I smiled at Elizabeth, happy in my heart.
I think I have fought all the devils I need to fight, inside my
head. The devil that beset Jenny has been vanquished; the
shattering hurt to Mary and her daughters assuaged. There would
be time and enough for both of them.
I rolled to meet Mary, my arms going around her. It was like a
whole new world opened up for me. Her skin was warm and alive,
and I couldn't get enough of stroking and kissing her. I rubbed
my hands against her; I rubbed my body against hers. Even my
legs rubbed up and down hers; I was besotted with the contact of
her warm, living body against mine.
It was like every inch of my body wanted to get involved with
making love to Mary. I wanted to touch her, caress her, feel her
warmth; I wanted to bask in the warmth that was my love for her
and hers for me.
Mary seemed to pick up on it. The two of us became a squirming
mass of touches and kisses. She licked me places I'd never been
licked, then I sent goose-bumps popping up all over her body when
I danced and wiggled my tongue along the length of her spine.
Then with hardly any warning, she moved and I was inside her,
once again penetrating her to the depths of her womanhood. I'd
been with tall women, I'd been with short women; Mary was
perfect, utterly perfect.
I kept pushing deep inside of her, concentrating on making each
stroke an artwork, a precise statement of my love for her, to be
savored for an instant, and then I would try to improve upon it.
Once, early on, I felt her arms clamp down against my shoulders,
and I knew she'd come. I didn't slow or speed up, but kept to a
deliberate pace enjoying each delicious second as I roused her.
I knew I was arousing Mary, I could feel it in her body; I loved
the sensation, knowing it was me, Tom Ferguson, that was making
her feel like this.
For the first time, I started to vary my pace, wanting to build
her up to just before her climax, then let her pause there while
mine built up as well. I'd had tremendous orgasms before; making
love to Elizabeth had been like being struck by lightning, going
up in a spiral of fire. This was just a steady buildup that
stretched my senses, clawed at my self-control. The cave man
inside of me wanted to pound into Mary to gain my own release;
the man who loved Mary wanted her to fly as high as the moon and
stars.
I pushed deep inside her one last time, pressing down on her clit
as I did. Pleasure shot through me, and as tremendous as that
was, I felt Mary's orgasm as well. The reflection of that added
to mine and for a tumultuous second I could barely remain
conscious.
Then the two of us lay together, still joined. I smiled slightly
to myself. I was breathing hard, but not as hard as other times.
But what had just passed between Mary and I was about the best
sex could possibly be.
I lightly ran my fingertips languidly over Mary's back, pleased
and happy. Hey future, ready or not! Here comes Tom Ferguson,
the happiest guy on earth!
Even so, I was unprepared a few minutes later when I felt a
series of odd sensations from down below. At first I thought
Mary was clenching her vaginal muscles around my erection; I was
sure ready to do it again!
Then I realized she was laughing.
"What?" I asked curious, running my hand down and coming to rest
on her bottom.
"Oh, thinking about this and that." This time she did squeeze
down on my cock. "Don't worry, I'm not laughing at you.
"The other day, when we first came to visit your house, Ellen
made me welcome; I felt so horribly guilty for using her teen-age
son to build up my self-esteem. We were in the kitchen, getting
snacks for everyone, and I apologized to her.
"She looked me up and down, and I swear, she licked her lips.
'My son has exquisite taste,' she told me. I was a little slow
to realize what she was doing, after that. Kisses, small hugs.
At first I thought they were meant to be reassuring, that she was
trying to tell me she didn't mind what had happened between us.
"It wasn't until she kissed me and started to rub my breasts,
that I realized she wanted to make love to me.
"I didn't know what to do," Mary laughed again. "I felt a little
hesitant with you, Tom. Not that it mattered. And the first
time with Bill, I was more hesitant then, and it didn't matter.
I thought with Ellen, I should take my time, be sure what I
wanted..." She chuckled again.
"She who hesitates around Ellen is sure to get what she wants,
even if that want is buried in a secret part of her heart that
she never wanted to admit existed."
"Around my family," I told her, "secret wants tend to have a way
of getting realized."
Mary touched my face. "I know I don't have to ask, but this is
still so new, and you're so good. It seems terrible to ask
something like this from someone who's brought me so much joy and
love... who's taken me to places sexually I never imagined
existed."
"You want to be with my mom," I told her, nodding.
"Yes."
I hugged her. "Yes," my reply was as simple as hers had been.
"I'm not sure if I want to be with Dave again," she added
quietly.
I grinned. "A French girl told me not so long ago, that until
you try something, you don't know if you'll like it or not. She
didn't say anything beyond that, but it's pretty clear that if
you don't like something, you shouldn't."
Mary leaned down and kissed me hard, but curiously un-sexual at
the same time.
"Last night," she whispered, "I watched you and Elizabeth. This
morning when you were kissing me on the back, I was afraid you
wanted to..."
I smiled at her. "Elizabeth says she can see the future. I
don't pretend to do that. But there is something inside of me
that doesn't let me get started if I'm not wanted. Mary, I swear
to you, I never thought of that."
"It seems more than a little..."
"Icckie," I completed the thought. "I understand. Please, when
I make love to you, to anyone, I want us to lie together
afterwards, big smiles on our faces, as happy as we can be.
Going someplace someone doesn't want you to go? Sounds very
icckie to me!"
Mary got up and headed for the shower; I did the same, but in my
own room. As I was getting undressed, I saw the message light
blinking on the room phone; that turned out to be a message from
Tony, asking if I wanted to come over to Sue Ellen's around one
in the afternoon to swim. Oh yeah, he'd moved in with her.
I'd been thinking quite a bit about Tony and I decided what I'd
rather do is look him in they eye, shake his hand and tell him
thanks again for saving my life on Sunday. Instead of an
immediate shower, I picked up the new cell phone from off the
charger stand and called Tony at Sue Ellen's right then.
The phone on the other end was picked up on the first ring and a
very chipper Sue Ellen said, "Top of the morning to ya!"
I laughed. "Top of the morning right back, Sue Ellen. Is Tony
up?"
Sue Ellen howled with laughter. "We talked about nick-naming you
Indie Ferguson, but I'm changing my vote to Aphrodisiac Ferguson.
Tony's been up for hours and hours now!"
I was still trying to get my jaw off the floor when Tony came on.
"Hey Tom, how are they hanging?"
"Pretty good, I guess. Say, Tony, would you mind if I came by
this morning? I don't know what we've got going this afternoon,
but I'd like to stop in and say hello."
"Sure, Sue Ellen was about to fix some breakfast. If you drive
real fast, you might get some," Tony chuckled at that.
"You know me, Tony. Ol' safe and steady Tom. I'll be over in a
few."
I showered, dressed and found that the only people up and about
were Jenny and Elizabeth, sitting cross-legged next to the pool.
Jenny was reading another of my dad's Economist magazines,
Elizabeth a textbook. I told them I expected to be back around
ten or eleven, got in my car and drove across town to Sue
Ellen's.
I was, it turned out, in time to catch the tail end of breakfast
and Sue Ellen was happy to zap a couple of waffles in the
microwave and pour me a glass of orange juice.
The three of us talked about school, about Sue Ellen going back
to being a cheerleader, which Tony seemed to really like.
Finally, I did what I came for, shook Tony's hand.
"I really didn't do anything," he told me.
I smiled at him. "Like it was hard for me to give the police an
address for Roger Parker? Or when Elizabeth collapsed, I had to
think about what to do? No Tony, you came back for me. You've
got big balls, my friend. And coming back, that's really what
friends are for."
Sue Ellen hugged both of us, and as I headed outside I was
feeling good. Really good. I was getting right with the world.
I was coming to terms with everything. I got into the Camry and
started back to the hotel.
I wasn't distracted; I swear. It was, literally, an eye blink.
Ahead of me, the traffic light turned green; there was no one
between me and the intersection. I'd been slowing for the red; I
remember taking my foot off the brake...
I opened my eyes. It felt odd. Everything was odd. There was
no sense of movement; there were odd pressures here and there,
everywhere. My eyes focused about a foot and half away from me,
on black asphalt. I remember noting the light and dark pieces of
gravel embedded in the dark matrix; there was a white bit to one
side, with a dark mark diagonally across part of it.
That's the street. My mind refused to accept I was looking at
the street, just inches from my face. And the white line is some
of the striping; the black mark was a skid mark.
My mind leaped from there. I'd crashed! I'd hit someone in the
intersection! Dear God! Had I killed someone?
For the first time, I tried to move.
And have never, ever, been so frustrated in my life.
I could twist my upper torso about an inch, my head about six
inches. I got a view of more road, a little further from my
eyes; nothing else. My arms didn't move, my legs didn't move. I
swallowed, felt icy prickles run up and down my spine.
Very deliberately, I concentrated on my right foot. I could feel
my toes wiggle; I could move my foot at the ankle. I just
couldn't move my leg. I could mildly flex my knee, but just a
tiny bit. My left leg, my foot could move, just not as much.
There was a little more play for my knee, but not much. My hands
were fine; I could flex my fingers, my wrists and elbows just
fine. But move them? Nope.
I heard a sound a few inches from my head. I tried to look. For
the first time there was a soft giving that let my head turn. I
found myself looking at someone outside the car. I frowned. He
was upside down!
He saw my eyes on him, I saw him lean closer, to look at me.
Muffled through the window, I heard him call loudly, "This one's
alive!"
I tried to set my shoulders back. Those words hurt me in a way
I'd never been hurt before. 'This one is alive.' That had to
mean others weren't. I'd killed someone. Maybe several some
ones. Inside, I shriveled and died; I felt tears running in
funny directions, over my forehead instead of down my cheeks.
There was a knock on the car window glass, "How badly are you
hurt?" A loud voice came from outside.
There was a rustle and another face appeared. The man had to be,
I realized, stretched out on the pavement. Jeez, I thought, that
must sting! It wasn't a really hot day, but black asphalt in
Phoenix is something you avoid even in the winter! Anything to
avoid thinking about the winter of despair in my heart!
"Where does it hurt, son?" the voice said.
With a start, I realized I recognized the voice, the cadence of
his words. I tried to twist my head around to look at him
better, but I still could hardly move. "You're the fireman," I
told him, amazed, "The boss fireman from the other day."
"Battalion Chief Denny Wheeler," he confirmed. "Where do you
remember me from?"
"The girl with the heart attack."
"Ah!" he looked closer. "And you are Tom... I'm sorry I don't
remember your last name."
"Ferguson, sir. Tom Ferguson."
He smiled, although it took an effort to realize that's what he
was doing.
"Tom, you've been in an accident. I've got help rolling, and
some EMTs will be here in a minute or two. But right now you
need to focus and tell me how bad you're hurt."
I tried not to sound as frustrated as I felt. "I can move
everything. Everything moves, I just can't move any of it very
far. Weird."
"Does anything hurt, Tom?"
I shook my head. "I don't feel real good. I'm upside down,
aren't I?"
"Yes. Are you sure you're not hurting? Can you tell if you're
bleeding?"
"I got hit once by a hit baseball," I told him. "For a second, I
thought I was okay, but then it started to hurt. Really hurt.
Nothing hurts now. I don't think I'm bleeding. I don't feel
anything like bleeding."
"Tom, I'm going to have to go for a minute. It'll be a minute
before someone can get back to you. Tom, listen real close.
Stay calm, stay cool. Don't try to move, okay?"
"I can't move," I repeated to him.
"I understand. You have to understand too, Tom. I'll be back in
a minute." He paused, I know now he was psyching himself up to
give me some really bad news. "Tom, can you smell gas?"
I nodded. Then it hit me. Gas. All those cars in movies and
things. Exploding balls of fire. "Yes, I smell it. Go, please
go. I'll be okay." If I couldn't run, he could. Should. Ran
far, far away; Tom Ferguson's luck has run out.
Funny how things work. 'Go, please go.' Three simple words that
have made me a friend for life.
He did leave, I watched him pull back, get up to his knees and
move away from the car.
I tried hard then, to pull myself together. Sure, I understand a
whole lot more about shock now than I did right then, but I'm not
sure that understanding would have made the process quicker.
Once again I took stock of my body. There were a few places
where things were poking me that were uncomfortable, but not
truly painful. Everything still wiggled and moved fine. Just
not in a larger sense. The smell of gasoline kept me from trying
too hard to push the envelope.
I didn't have much to look at; I did turn my head around to where
it had been at first. That was another really bad moment. For
the first time, I realized the hood of the Camry was missing;
everything in front of me was missing. How many times had I
popped the hood up to check the water and oil? Put fluid in the
washer? Dad had shown me all of that when he and Mom had been
teaching me to drive. It was a check mark on the 'To Do' list
Mom printed up every week. And Mom had said how many times that
the reason she liked the Camry was that it had a long hood?
Now, quite simply, the front end of the car was gone. I turned
my head back to where I'd seen the fireman, but it was hard to
see anything at a distance, because the window glass was cracked
and buckled. So too, I noted, was the car door, although I
couldn't see much of it.
Again, I was terrified that I'd fallen asleep or just hadn't been
paying attention, that I'd hit someone in the intersection. I
was sure, positive beyond reasonable doubt, that I'd killed
someone. Ripped a living, breathing human being from life, from
family and friends. I felt like sobbing, but there was nothing
there; the well was dry. I just sat there, alone, grieving.
Promising I would do my level best to do what I could for anyone
I'd hurt.
There was a sound again, and I turned back. It was the boss
fireman again. "How are you doing, Tom?"
"Fine, sir." I decided that it was something I had to know. Had
to. "How many people did I kill?"
I saw his eyes on me, saw him shake his head. "Tom, do you
remember anything?"
"No." I already knew the futility of trying to move my head. "I
was coming up on Indian School, the light turned green. I took
my foot off the brake, then I opened my eyes and I was here.
Please, I won't go crazy, how many people did I hurt?"
"Tom, two men robbed a bank down at Indian School and Twentieth.
They were driving a Ford Explorer. Probably, from what the
witnesses said, they were going about a hundred miles an hour
when they came through here. They clipped the rear of your car,
spun you into the oncoming traffic. They smashed into a small
Civic and then turned north. The police are after them now."
I tried to concentrate on what I remembered, but there was
nothing. Just the light turning green, my foot coming off the
brake. I'd been hit in the rear end? I tried to put it all
together; I couldn't.
"Tom, listen to me."
I turned my attention back to him. "We have some other people we
have to help first. You don't appear to be seriously injured and
they are. You're going to have to wait here for a bit more,
okay?"
"Okay. You should go, it's not safe." I didn't feel elated at
the news it wasn't my fault; disbelief was the dominant emotion
at that moment, terror for those who were hurt. Concern for
someone else, close to me, who should be safe.
"I'll try to find someone to come stay with you, Tom. You
understand why it's not safe?"
"I understand." For sure, the gas smell was there, pretty heavy
too. "You don't have to do anything for me."
There had been sirens earlier, I'd heard them. There were more,
plus loud sounds that I thought were fire trucks. Odd, I
thought, really odd, how much we depend on our eyes. I had a
small circumscribed world, a worldview that was distorted and
shattered. I closed my eyes, wanting it all to just go away.
There was a 'chunk' sound a few inches from my head. I opened my
eyes and saw a policeman; again it took a second to recognize
him. "Officer Moss."
I saw him pull back his nightstick. "Chief Wheeler says you're
okay, Tom. You sure?"
I smiled. "I decided to take a nap; not much is going on."
I wiggled everything again. "Nothing hurts. I can wiggle but
not move."
"Jeez! We took some pictures of your car. Afterwards, you can
look at them."
I contemplated what it meant for a policeman to look at a car and
go, 'Jeez!' Maybe there are things we're not meant to know.
"They've put foam down around your car; they're working on
getting the scene safe to work on. The Chief says you understand
that they have some other people they have to help first."
"I don't know what happened, Officer Moss. I swear, I don't
remember."
"Tom, it's Joe. There was nothing you could have done, Tom.
They were going too fast."
"I just don't remember." I wasn't crying, not quite anyway.
"Tom, tell me what you would have done coming up on an
intersection like that?"
My dad had made sure of any number of things before he thought I
was ready to drive solo. Having the right habits was number one
on his list. "I don't speed up until I've looked right, then
left, then back ahead."
"So, you look right first?"
"Yeah."
"Tom, do you know how far a car travels in a second at 60 miles
an hour?"
"No."
"Almost a hundred feet. Tom, they were going at least a hundred,
not sixty miles an hour. Tom, if you looked right, they'd have
been three to five hundred feet away, when you looked. From that
far away, it's really hard to judge speed."
I've always been surprised how my mind works. I spent the next
minute doing the math. Thinking about how I turned my head, how
long to push down on the gas pedal. Elizabeth, I thought, would
have been able to do the math in quick time; so could Jenny.
For the first time, I thought about my family, my friends. I
looked at Officer Moss. "What time is it?"
"A little before eleven." It had been half past ten when I'd
left Tony's.
"Could you call my dad? Just him. Tell him what's happened?
He's at work."
"I can do that." I gave him the number, and for a few minutes, I
was alone again.
I wanted to close my eyes and rest some more; the temptation was
nearly overwhelming. It was, I thought, like running away.
Awake or asleep, here I was. What had I told Fleur? You deal
with the things you can deal with and let those things you can't
change take care of themselves. I heaved a sigh. Well, Tom, you
can talk a good line. This is your chance to do what you've
asked others to do. Don't run away.
Officer Moss was back. "He's going to come. I told him that
it's going to be the Fire Department's call if he can talk to you
or not."
My mind had settled, my ability to connect dots was returning.
"I'm going to be here for a while," I said, trying to keep my
voice steady.
"Tom, your car is a mangled piece of junk. I saw it and wrote
you off. Every fireman and cop here looks at it, and shakes
their head. The human body is simply amazing, Tom. Takes a
licking and keeps on ticking.
"That bad?"
"Oh yeah! Like I said, later, if you're up to it, I'll show you
the pictures."
"So what's going to happen?"
"They are working to get a mother and daughter out of their car;
there was a granddaughter, an infant, in there, but she's already
out. Shaken, but not injured; car seats are like cocoons. Mom
and grandmom, not doing so well, but they'll probably be okay."
"Probably?" I asked.
He sighed loud enough for me to hear. "Like I said, Tom, the
human body is an amazing thing. It can take damage that you
would think would surely be fatal, and then the person gets up
and walks away. Other times just a minor blow and a person drops
dead. I've learned not to rush to judgment about how good a
shape someone is in, or how bad it is, until we get them to the
hospital and the docs have a look at them."
"And me?"
"You? You sit here a while longer. There's enough time, they've
rolled Johnnie Dugan on this. He's the best hand in the west
when it comes to cutting someone loose from a wreck. He'll be
here in another few minutes, then they will, very carefully, cut
you out of there."
I contemplated the metal all around me. The sun had been beating
down on the car for some time now; it was, for the first time, a
little uncomfortable.
"I wouldn't mind a drink," I told Officer Moss. "It's a little
warm."
"We have to wait for Johnnie Dugan," he said firmly. "I know
it's no fun in there, but he's a genius, Tom. Right now there's
a half dozen men and two women standing around your car with foam
extinguishers aimed at it. Odds are they can get a fire before
it gets out of hand."
"Tell them thanks," I asked him.
He laughed, "Already promised them all a barbeque and beer
bust."
"I'll buy," I laughed. "Well, I'll buy what I can buy."
He laughed too. "And we'll get Johnnie Dugan a big ol' case of
scotch. Lord, that man can drink!"
"Maybe I'll contribute a case of Grape Nehi, instead."
We traded a few more jokes, and then Officer Moss spoke one last
time. "Time for me to get out of the way, Tom. You listen to
Johnnie, Tom. He's good, really good. Good luck!"
A minute later, Officer Moss was replaced by a large man with
sandy red hair, not at all like Mary or her daughters.
"Johnnie Dugan," he said, his voice like gravel. "You're Tom."
"Yes, sir," I told him.
"I have a request from a cop, another from a Battalion Chief: try
to get you out in one piece. Usually don't get the time of day
from either. Just a 'Get it going, Dugan.'"
"Sir, if you don't mind, 'Get it going.'" I said with a laugh.
"It's getting warm in here."
"Yeah, I imagine so. Let me explain how this works. I've got
saws, crunchers, pullers, Jaws of Life, all that. The saws
particularly, but all the rest too, give off sparks. Sparks
aren't our friends right now. We're going to spend a few more
minutes here, making it just a bit safer to work. Safer for me,
anyway. You understand, that if it goes, you're in deep shit?"
"Yes, sir."
"First thing, I'm going to ask if you can turn your face away
from the window."
"I can, yes."
"You do that, then I'm going to be getting this window out of the
way. We'll give you a little drink, then I'll start to work."
I turned my face, heard some faint noises, then crunching sounds.
He used, he told me later, suction devices that pulled the glass
away from me, then he carefully pulled what remained away by
hand.
"Okay, look back at me."
I did, and he held a juice box close to my lips, and I sucked it
dry in about a second.
"Can't give you too much, the doc's don't like it," he said,
tossing the box away. "I'm going to be explaining what I do as I
work. You don't have to listen, but I like to talk. Sometimes I
realize I'm doin' it wrong, and I catch a mistake. So that's why
I talk. Just relax, Tom." He laughed. "Oh, when I'm done,
you'll have completed Johnnie Dugan's short course on car
cutting."
I'd realized early on that if I wiggled my toes, my legs felt
better, so I laid there, upside down, wiggling my toes and
listening to Johnnie Dugan talk. I'd heard the term 'stream of
consciousness' before, but I'd not really understood what it
meant. After Johnnie Dugan, I knew. It was one, long continuous
statement of what he was thinking.
"Lessee, there's that little bugger! Ah! Got ya! Now, we get
to look a little, see what's up!"
"Me," I told him, "Although I appear to be upside down!"
He chuckled, "Well, just so you know, don't take a piss!"
"I figured," I told him.
More light appeared, he'd undone the door side panel. He leaned
closer, "Hmmmm. I'll be damned!" He pulled back, looked at me.
"And it doesn't hurt?"
"Should it hurt?" I asked, concerned.
"Well, let's just say if I were you, I'd not bother with buying
even one lottery ticket in your life. You already won the big
jackpot, Tom. Be right back."
He moved away, leaving me to watch the sunlight, just inches
away. So near, yet so far. Odd, if I was in the direct sun, it
would make it even more uncomfortable than it was. And yet, I
love to look at it.
Johnnie Dugan was back. "They're gonna take a few pictures here,
Tom. Relax for a second. You're goin' in the history books
here, guy!"
I heard someone call his name, and he was gone again. A minute
later, it was Dad, crawling down next to me.
"Tom..."
"Sorry about the car, Dad."
"Don't even think about it. The police told me," I saw his
expression. "Gosh, I was thinking I should call Ellen and Craig
about this, now I'm glad I didn't."
"I'm fine," I told him. "I'm really sorry about the car."
"Forget it, Tom. I'm not going to be far, but they need me to
move to work. You do what you're told, okay?"
"Not much I can do but sit here and wiggle things," I told him.
"And everything wiggles," I added, as he moved back.
Then Johnnie Dugan was back, with more rambling conversation.
Then, "Okay, now we're gonna take a bite out of this. Tom,
listen to me."
"Yes, sir."
"It's Johnnie, boy. This is real important. I've got things
braced so, in theory, nothing will move but what I want. If you
start to feel any pressure at all, you sing out real quick. Do
you understand?"
"Yes, Johnnie."
"It's really important, Tom. Any change in pressure, even the
least little bit, you yell. Don't try to be a tough guy; don't
be anything but a little baby. If something moves, you tell me!
Scream at the top of your lungs!"
I contemplated the car, I contemplated myself lying squinched
inside the car. With complete clarity, I knew what he was
concerned about. "Trust me," I said, trying hard to clear my
throat, "the least thing."
There was a buzzing whine, then the scream of metal cutting
metal. I held my breath, every sense tuned to the slightest
movement.
"Okay, now I'm going to start to move it," Johnnie said. I was
tempted to stick out my tongue. I thought the hard part had come
and gone.
I felt a tremor of movement, heard metal crunch. I checked
everything again, nothing seemed to have changed. For the next
five minutes, small crunches of sound, more frantic wiggles on my
part.
Then, the door was pulled away in a clean movement, and I was now
much closer to the sunlight, just a few inches in places.
Johnnie Dugan looked at me, grinned, and then started looking at
the rest of me; he took his time about it, too. "Camera," he
called. He took a half dozen quick shots, and then gave the
camera to someone else.
"I think you are probably as lucky as a person can get, Tom. I'm
going to pass some straps around your shoulders, your waist and
legs. I'm going to need a little help from you getting them
around you. Just hang tight, and I'll have you out of there in a
jiffy!"
He pushed a strap beneath me, lifting my shoulders up a fraction
of an inch to get it underneath me, then stood, reached over and
around, pulling it up and around to lay on my chest. He moved
back to another position, wiggled his fingers across my chest,
got it and pulled it through.
He spent a few minutes pushing and prodding pieces of metal, then
went to work on my waist. That was easier; there was more room
between me and the seat, more room in front of me. The last
strip was the slowest, but I think he was just being careful.
Then three husky men were tugging on the straps, and I was
wiggling at the same time.
I popped out, onto the ground, a little stunned with the
abruptness. I smiled, holding out my hand to Johnnie Dugan.
"Thanks," I told him, "thanks from the bottom of my heart."
He rolled his eyes as we shook hands. "You just hold still, the
EMTs are going to be on my case for letting you move!"
He was right, two men and a woman were right there with a gurney,
pushing me to lie down. I glanced back at the car. It was, I
found, really easy to sit down, and then lay back. I'd known
about the front of the car; but I'd never been able to see behind
me. From just behind the driver's door the metal was twisted and
bent, just scraps and tatters. If someone had been riding
shotgun or in the back seat, they'd have been killed instantly.
And looking at where I'd been, I had no idea why I hadn't been
killed instantly myself.
One of the men was checking my blood pressure and heartbeat; the
other two were running their hands over my body, looking for
injuries. The woman ran her hand from my ankle up past my knee;
she didn't have to get her hand close to my groin, I came erect
in a flash.
She grinned, "I guess everything still works."
I blushed, and the other EMTs laughed at me. Well, that worked;
something worked. I deflated almost as fast as I'd risen to the
moment.
Dad appeared, and one of the EMTs explained to him where I was
being taken. "No visible signs of trauma. We still need to have
the docs look your young man over."
"Wait," I said, "is Chief Wheeler still here?"
He was, and I got to shake his hand and tell him thanks too. The
Chief handed me a business card, and so did Johnnie Dugan. Again
I was effusive in my thanks.
The Chief waved at my car, at the two other cars not far away.
"Just doing my job. Like before, Tom, you did yours. It's all
that any of us can do. Don't forget that Tom, when you think
about this. If you had panicked, if you hadn't kept your cool,
it would have been very easy to hurt yourself. You did good,
young man! Don't kick yourself about any of this!"
Riding in an ambulance, siren or not, isn't as much fun as it's
supposed to be. You can't see anything, all you do is lurch this
way or that way as the ambulance cuts through traffic. I
wouldn't, in fact, recommend it to anyone as a preferred way to
travel.
You get fairly decent service in an Emergency Room when they
bring you in from an ambulance direct from a major traffic
accident.
Still, I had to convince them not to cut my clothes off, and they
hovered anxiously as I sat up on the gurney and undressed
completely.
Careful examination revealed two bruises, both small. Officer
Moss was just outside. The doctors finally cleared me, and we
moved to another room where he talked to me for a bit, with Dad
sitting just a few feet away. I felt really bad that I couldn't
remember anything, but Officer Moss explained it.
"It's not uncommon. In fact, it's not even a little unusual.
Our minute-to-minute memories go into short-term storage, like
RAM in a computer. If the lights go out abruptly, that data just
vanishes, if it hasn't been saved. It's just something that
happens."
"Will it come back?" I asked him.
He shook his head negatively. "What I need from you, Tom, is a
formal statement. Of what you remembered, before and after.
There is no criminal liability that you're facing; too many
witnesses saw what happened. Civil liability..." He sighed.
"Almost certain."
"We'll deal with it," Dad told him. "Thanks, officer."
Officer Moss nodded, smiled at me. "Plug your ears, Tom." I
blinked, not knowing what he meant.
"I talked to the detectives working on the Reese case; they're
some of the best and brightest on the force. They have nothing
but good things to say about Tom. Some detectives I personally
think would make darn good traffic cops hate his guts. Battalion
Chief Wheeler is another good guy; he has nothing but praise for
your son. Johnnie Dugan? He's beyond good. He says anyone who
can kid about it, tell jokes while being cut out of a wreck that
should have killed him instantly, is an okay guy.
"Trust me, Mr. Ferguson, you need any help in the civil things,
you let one of us know. We'll help in anyway we can."
Dad was about to say something, when his cell phone went off.
Dad said hello, listened for a second. "Craig, just tell
everyone to stay there. Call Ellen and have her pick up Mary at
work and have them get over there. Tom and I are on our way,
we'll be there shortly; we're just about finished here. Call
Carstairs, have him come out."
A pause and Dad shook his head. I was tempted to laugh; it was
nice to know I wasn't the only one who did that. "This is
important Craig, we need the lawyer. I'll explain it when we get
there. Order out for some pizza. Lot's of pizza, some Coke.
I'm starved."
Dad closed the phone, nodded at Officer Moss. "My
brother-in-law. I asked him to have the family get together.
Some of them are getting a little concerned."
Well, concern or not, it was painfully slow getting out of the
hospital.
Finally, we were on our way, but by then it was pushing two
o'clock. Traffic didn't much cooperate, so we did get back to
the hotel a little after three.
We went into Mom and Dad's room, as they had a nice sitting room.
It was crowded with everyone there, including a lawyer, one I
didn't recognize. Plus, there was a pile of pizza boxes on one
of the tables, and no matter what, that was my first stop.
"David," Mom said quietly, "where have you been? Tom?"
"Tom," Dad said drolly, "has lost the use of his car."
I turned and stared at him in disbelief. I should have known he
would jerk not only my chain, but everyone's.
I remembered tag teams; I remembered a lot of things. I smiled,
"I was involved in a bank robbery."
"Drove into the getaway car," Dad added.
The room had gone silent, then it was Elizabeth who spoke,
"They'll catch them tomorrow."
I nodded, I hoped they would. "And now," I told everyone, "Dad
has had his little joke, and I've had mine. One person was
killed, five injured. A toddler in a car seat came away with
only minor bruises, just like me. It wasn't a joke at all."
I've never been tackled in a football game; I was then.
The next thing I knew, Mom, Mary, Shannon, Elizabeth, JR, and
Jenny had me in death grips. If being tackled is anything like
that, Tony can keep it.
It took a while, but eventually everyone was seated again. "I
apologize," Dad said, contritely. "Tom's reminded me that I'm
not nearly as funny as I think I am sometimes. Tom's car was
totaled. I mean, not just a little totaled, but totally totaled.
The police and firemen at the scene told me to thank my lucky
stars; Tom's survival was a one in a million shot. Uninjured?
Flat out impossible.
"Yet, here he is."
I spent a few minutes giving a highly sanitized account of waking
up, upside down, then getting cut out of the car. I finished
with Officer Moss's statement about civil liability. After that,
there was a protracted period of silence that ended with all of
us looking at the lawyer.
"You're concerned about the legal issues," the lawyer said.
"Yes," I said, feeling sad. If it really hadn't been something
I'd done, the thought that people would want to push part of the
responsibility on me wasn't something I was ever going to be
comfortable with. The thought that they would do it because I
had money in the bank, made it more than uncomfortable.
"And what did the police say? Any tickets issued?"
"No," Dad told him. "They say that the robbery suspects had just
held up a bank, were speeding away from the scene. At that time,
there was no police pursuit, they were headed for the freeway,
when they ran a red light, slammed into Tom's car, hit another
car and continued on. Tom's car was spun into the oncoming
traffic, involving another car. That car had three of the
injured in it, although I was told the infant's injuries aren't
serious. The other car the suspects hit had the fatality, and
another serious injury. A father killed in front of his adult
daughter."
There was nothing but silence, all of us lost in our own
thoughts.
The lawyer stood up, looking around at us. "You are going to be
sued. Part of my job is to know my clients as well as opponents.
You are likely to be sued by all parties involved, their
attorneys will do due diligence, learn how deep your pockets are,
and go for broke."
"And the odds of someone winning that suit?" Mom asked.
The lawyer laughed. "Depends on how much you and they are
willing to spend. Fifty-fifty."
"My son's car is smashed, he had no involvement in what happened,
but he's going to be sued? And stands to lose?" Mom was
incredulous.
"Yes," the lawyer was bluntly matter of fact. "That's exactly
what's going to happen."
"I don't have any money," I told him. "I don't come into my
trust funds until I'm twenty-one. Four and a half years. Uncle
Craig can just tear up the papers he wanted me to sign."
It was Craig who shook his head. "Doesn't make any difference."
"Not for a number of reasons," the lawyer agreed. "For one
thing, this will drag out for years. Tom will be much older
before a final judgment is reached. Even if he's still a minor
when it comes down, they would attach anything like a trust fund
if the verdict is in their favor. Plus, David, Ellen, you have
to face the fact that you'll be a party to the suit as well. As
the responsible parents of a minor driver."
"Fifty-fifty?" Dad asked softly. "Aren't you guys better than
that?"
"Like I said, it depends on what you and they are willing to
spend. Considering what's at stake, I'd expect my firm to be
water boys for the varsity. Even so..."
Dad held out a piece of paper to the lawyer. "This is the police
case number. Why don't you go start doing the due diligence?"
The lawyer nodded, his eyes flicked around the room.
Dad stood watching him, and after a second the lawyer left.
"We should leave too," Mary said quietly.
"No!" I said instantly.
"No!" my parents chorused a fraction of a second later.
It was Mom who got up and went to Mary. She reached up, and
stroked Mary's cheek. "You are, dear heart, always going to be
welcome here. We all understand how much he hurt you. We do.
We understand what you want to do, but please, this is family.
Don't pull away."
"This is your family's business," Mary said, standing fast.
"Mary," she turned and looked at me when I spoke. "this is about
something that happened to me. Please, I love you. Don't walk
away now."
"I don't know what I can contribute."
"Love," Mom told her.
I was surprised when it was all of the rest of the Ferguson's,
Dad, JR, Jenny as well as me, all of us nodding vigorously when
Mom spoke.
I smiled at JR, and she smiled back. I found myself staring at
JR. How long has it been since I made love to you? The sister
that I was so eager to spend time with just a few weeks ago,
what's happened? I'm busy, you're busy. We have new people in
our lives. More and more I was realizing that my earlier
breakneck pace through women and girls had resulted in people I
cared about, that I couldn't devote the time I'd like to, to be
with them.
And with JR came the thought of Marsha. Two weeks; I'd written
her once, she'd written me once. I'd called her on the phone
once and that was it. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to
come to grips with all of the emotions that were suddenly popping
up.
All of the women I'd made love to. Marsha, JR. Penny and Kim.
Shannon, Mary and now Elizabeth. Jenny. Sue Ellen and the rest
of the girls I'd been with at Sue Ellen's party, and yeah,
another woman, Sonia, the fence-jumper. Tony's smile when he
introduced me to Marsha; the look on JR's face the first time I
went down on her. Penny coming and laying down beside me,
telling me that JR and Roger hadn't stopped at oral sex.
It was vertigo of the first order; the world spinning and dancing
in my head. Flashes of pictures, wisps of emotions and feelings,
driblets of conversations, things that I'd said, that others had
said. The hotel room vanished, my family vanished, the people I
loved and respected vanished. There was just a whirlwind, with
me caught up in it.
I realized I was swaying, but I didn't fall because there were
too many eager hands close by. I don't know how long it was
before I was sitting on a sofa, a cold washcloth on my forehead,
surrounded by anxious family and friends.
I looked up at them and smiled. "I'm okay. It's just that a lot
has caught up to me, all at once."
Dad sat down next to me on the couch. "I've been pretty lenient
about letting you do things your own way, in your own time.
Except for maybe homework and chores."
"I appreciate it," I said, agreeing.
"That said, now I'm going back to ogre Dad mode again. I want
you to go to your room, put your head down on the pillow and
rest. Sure, the doctors said you were fine, but you spent more
than two hours hanging upside down today; you need some rest."
I could only nod.
Again, it was Elizabeth who spoke, and as usual, the unexpected.
"Joanna, you should go with Tom. Be with him."
I looked around the room. Mom, the woman who'd nurtured me,
raised me to be the person I'd become. The woman who I'd made
love to with pleasure and enjoyment. Mary, half of the love of
my life, and Elizabeth next to her. The two women I wanted close
to me for the rest of my life.
Jenny, silent and wide-eyed, probably of all of them, the one
closest to understanding what today had been like for me. I
would never truly understand her life, but now I'd spent a few
hours trapped and helpless; I knew how it felt for the brief time
I'd been alone. Jenny, who'd stood alone, trapped and helpless
for years. I'd had Chief Wheeler and Officer Moss there speaking
words of reassurance and comfort, letting me know help was coming
almost from the first.
And JR. My eyes stopped on her, seeing the concern and worry in
her eyes, remembering the feel of her mouth wrapped around my
erection. The grin when she asked me if she'd done it right. I
was pretty sure she'd known exactly how right she'd done it.
"I'm not sure Tom needs company, tonight," Mom said quietly.
"I am," I said with a smile. "I think it's only fair my little
sister should get a turn at helping her big brother."
"Yes!" JR came and sat on my lap, "Now and any time!"
First, I had to get JR out of my lap, and then I stood up.
"Thanks to all of you," I said with as much energy as I could
muster. I was fading fast, and I knew it.
I smiled at everyone, felt a mild curiosity about who would be
with who tonight, decided that it was none of my business, and
staggered off with JR in tow.
I simply went into my bedroom, flopped on the bed, and was dead
to the world in an instant.
When I woke, day had passed and night had fallen. JR had been a
busy sister, as I was now undressed and tucked into the bed, then
she'd gotten undressed and had joined me, and was hugging me from
behind.
I lifted her fingers, kissed them gently.
"You must have been really tired," JR said quietly, kissing the
nape of my neck.
I moved, rolling over onto my back. "I think it wouldn't hurt to
get more sleep in a while. I've been pushing it."
JR's hand snaked down, caressed me. "And we've all loved it...
you too, of course."
I smiled, and was content to simply lay there, with JR lightly
running her fingers over my still flaccid penis. After a minute
of that, she laughed. "You are tired, aren't you!"
"Let's see. I had a late breakfast at Sue Ellen's, waffles and
syrup, some juice. Another box of juice sometime after noon.
Some pizza and pop when I got here. I'd say my diet was a little
light today."
JR giggled. "Wouldn't want you to get pudgy."
"No danger of that."
Her grip firmed, but that was all that firmed. After a few
strokes, JR sighed. "Tom, are you really okay?"
I stared up at the ceiling. "JR, I'm fine, physically. Just
right now my mind is buzzing around in circles, trying to make
sense out of everything. A while ago, I started thinking about
Marsha, you, Penny... I didn't get very far before I realized
that I've made love to too many people."
She was silent for a second, then asked quietly, "Am I one of the
too many?"
"No. One of the problems I have right now is that there isn't a
single person I've made love to that I wouldn't want to make love
to again. There's not a single time I can think of where I
wouldn't have done the same things as I did before.
"And that's just the simple things. Mary's husband is dead.
Jenny's entire family, except for her. Some father today died in
a traffic accident I was in, other people were hurt, hurt badly.
Me?" I remembered looking at my car, nearly fainted away again.
I was breathing fast and hard, I could feel sweat pouring off my
body. "I just don't understand any of this. I think I do, I
talk to people like I do, but inside..." I closed my eyes, and
it was like the last time I'd closed my eyes: sleep was there,
without warning, to take me.
I'm sure I dreamed, but I don't remember anything about the
dreams. When I woke up, JR still had her hand on me, was still
stroking me.
"You're going to wear it out."
She laughed, "I don't want you wearing it out without my having a
hand in it."
"I remember how happy I was when Mom said you could stay in my
room. That it was okay for the two of us to make love, if that's
what we wanted. Tell me true, JR. That day when you first came
to my room. You wanted me, didn't you?"
"Yes. Penny was doing it with Roger, Kim with Jennifer; I was
getting pretty horny. Kim told me it would be all right if I was
with you, that if I wanted you and you wanted me, that mattered
more than if we were brother and sister. Just be careful about
babies, she told me," JR chuckled. "Oh, and she told me that if
I started a conversation about sex with just about anyone male, I
could just about guarantee getting what I wanted."
She leaned close and kissed me on the cheek. "You're not upset
with me, are you?"
"No, not even a little. Sometimes, I've found, it takes a push
to get me moving."
She kissed me again, still on the cheek. "Once you get moving,
though! Gosh wow!"
Gosh wow! I thought. Here I am, warm and comfortable, with
someone I love stroking me; it wouldn't take much for me to roll
over and make love to JR. Not much at all. Gosh wow. Then
there were those people who were resting for eternity; those
lying in the hospital, probably in pain. I'd seen it with Janey,
when I'd visited her; I'd seen the pain Elizabeth had been in.
Pain that I'd caused for Elizabeth.
I looked upwards, past the ceiling of the hotel room. "Can I
tell you something, JR? Something serious?"
Her arm moved from my penis, to just north of my stomach, hugging
me. "Sure, Tom."
"Mom and Dad taught us about religion. About God. Took us to
some churches, so we could see what they were like. Read to us
from the Bible, told us about other books from other religions.
"Always, they taught us, respect other people's beliefs, even if
you don't share them. Today, JR, I've decided to disrespect
those who believe in God. How can God be good, if he lets people
like Sam Reese be born, go on to live and hurt people? Someone
died today within feet of where I was; others were hurt. Me? I
was inconvenienced, delayed; my car wrecked. But I wasn't hurt.
Why? Am I better than the man who was killed? I don't know
anything about him, except he had his daughter with him! Why did
I live and he die? What if that woman, Yolanda, had gone to work
for Dad's company, and it was Dad who ran away and got killed?
Why is Dad alive and Bill Leary dead?
"You and me, Jenny, Shannon and Elizabeth. Penny, Tony, Sue
Ellen; all the kids we know and love. We were born, got to live;
yet you and I have an older brother or sister who was killed,
pulled out of Mom and killed. What did we do to deserve life,
and what did that baby do to deserve death? I don't want to hear
about 'God's Will' and all of that. How can God let a baby die
for no reason?"
"Tom," JR whispered softly, "stop for a second."
It was a needful thing, I realized. I was way too worked up.
"From the time I was old enough to understand anything about
babies and where they come from, Mom has explained things to me.
Over and over and over again. Kim spoke to Penny the same way.
Mom didn't understand what she was doing, Tom. She made very
sure I would understand. So has Kim, making sure Penny
understands.
"We're women, Tom. Most guys don't shoot blanks, they can get
you pregnant. When Mom and Kim found out about Penny and me,
they were pleased that we were together. Boys, we were told,
should be put off as long as possible.
"We're both curious, Tom. Kim wasn't happy with Penny when she
started dating Roger. She didn't like Roger; she didn't like
Penny doing it with Roger. Mom and Kim made us sit down and
listen again to the lecture about birth control and
responsibility. Penny got this shot thing that lasts three
months, as soon as I have my first period, I'll get it too.
"One thing Mom and Kim have made really clear: things happen,
Tom. We can do all the things we have to, do them right, and it
can still happen. Then we have a choice to make. It's our
choice, they tell us. It's our lives, the baby's life. It's
scary, Tom. I love you, I do. I love Dad. But it's scary,
really scary. So I haven't been avoiding you, but I haven't been
there as many times as I could have been. Penny has been
avoiding you a little, too. Jenny wanted you, but she knows
what's at stake and she's been really careful. None of us have
been as eager as we could have been."
I reached out and touched her fingers. "Thanks for telling me."
JR found my lips this time. "That doesn't mean we don't want to
do it with you! Oh no! Not that! Never that! But we want to
be careful, okay?"
"I want to be careful too."
"Penny and I; we've been friends since we were babies. We tell
each other things we wouldn't tell anyone else. Our secrets, our
hearts." I nodded in understanding. "We've watched you these
last couple of weeks. Sure, we both wanted to make love to you;
me in particular. I think I've always known that buried some
place inside of you was someone exceedingly special, Tom.
"And now we can see how special. What you did for Jenny was
really awesome, Tom. We've known her for months; none of us ever
had a clue about what her life was like. Kim knew her even
better; Penny told me on the phone the other day that Kim is more
upset than all the rest of us, saying that she should have known.
That she should have asked Jennifer more questions."
"Questions like that are hard to ask," I told her.
"Sure," JR agreed. "Way too hard. Which is why we never asked,
but you did. And when Roger started after Shannon again, you
didn't even need to ask. You just knew it was wrong and you
stopped him. And you stopped Sam. Then with Shannon's Dad; gosh
Tom, you knew and understood what we could do to help them,
without crushing Shannon's mom. That was another wonderful
thing. You do wonderful things for people, Tom."
"Wonderful things?" I mused aloud. "Tell that to the people who
are in the hospital tonight, to the family of the man who died.
What if I'd stayed home? Decided to go this afternoon when Tony
and Sue Ellen were having people over to swim?"
"Don't beat yourself up over something you had no way to
control," JR told me.
Okay, that's what I'd told Fleur. It's what I told myself
earlier today, sitting trapped and helpless, waiting for the car
to burst into flames around me. Why can't I take my own advice?
How many ways can you spell hypocrite?
I remembered glancing around the intersection after I'd been
pulled from my car. I'd seen the other cars, clearly enough; I'd
driven through that intersection dozens of times by myself,
hundreds of times with my parents. It was less than a mile away
from the house, so I knew it. What would it have been like if I
hadn't been there? That car would have hit the others even
harder. Not one dead, more likely five. You could make the
case, I supposed, that I'd saved lives, not killed and injured
anyone.
This isn't who I am, I thought. I can face and take
responsibility for the things I do. Yeah, I've had a good run
here, helping people. Maybe, just maybe, I don't have to feel
responsible for what happened today. Maybe. In my heart, I will
always have a question, though. Always.
I relaxed then. It was one of those things that I would never be
able to do anything about. Learn my lessons for the future; try
not to dwell on the history that had taught me the lessons.
And of course, my penis came instantly erect. There really does
seem to be something in my head that controls that part of me. I
don't pretend to understand it. Nonetheless, I laughed.
"What?" JR asked.
I moved her hand down to my groin.
"Oh, the Tom I know and love is back!" JR squeezed me, for a
second, then she squirmed around and took me in her mouth, while
presenting her bare pussy to my lips.
I licked and sucked, she did the same. Unlike the first time JR
had gone down on me, or any of the times since, I had no staying
power. I shot after just a few seconds.
However, if there is one constant in the Ferguson gene line, it
has to be persistence; particularly when it comes to sex. JR
wasn't even slowed; swallowing my cum, continuing to use her
tongue to run around the head of my cock.
I might have slowed a bit when I came, but JR quickly roused my
interest again; I kept on and on, licking her, pressing my tongue
inside her.
I wasn't exactly sure why it happened; usually I kept my eyes
shut a lot when I'm making love. There had been notable
exceptions; Mary in the morning, for instance.
With a start, I realized those words reminded me of an LP record
Dad had, a song sung by Ed Ames, called "Mary in the Morning."
Why had I remembered that here and now? I ran over the lyrics in
my head and knew.
/ And Mary's there in sunny days or stormy weather
/ She doesn't care `cause right or wrong the love we share,
/ we share together
I smiled, decided that right then I should be thinking of JR. I
ran my hand over her bottom, and then slid my middle finger in
her, where my tongue had just been. I'd never fingered a girl
from this position, couldn't help but notice my thumb was right
over that other place. I tried not to think about it, but JR
started rotating her hips around my finger, and my thumb moved
across her anal opening as well.
I wasn't certain how JR felt about it, until I realized she was
also pressing back against my thumb. I pressed down a little
more, and JR kept squirming. I tried a second finger inside JR,
but she was just too small. That was okay, because it was pretty
clear she was enjoying just the one there, and the one that now
slid in to the first knuckle into her backside.
"Where did you ever learn that?" JR's voice hissed, not in
anger, but pleasure.
I smiled; for the first time I'd come across something that they
hadn't talked about between themselves. Not Penny, not Jenny.
Or Elizabeth.
"Just experimenting," I said, knowing it wasn't entirely a lie.
"Well, I'm thinking, if you were to experiment there with this,"
She licked and sucked my erection, "I wouldn't have to worry
about babies."
I ran my free hand over the round curves of JR's butt. Oh my,
yes! I wanted to experiment with that!
"It's something you have to want."
"Tom, I want you any way I can get you! Someday, maybe we'll be
able to have enough of each other, but right now, I want you
everyway I can!"
It didn't take long for JR to roll on her stomach, and me to
start rubbing her with my erection, It was slow pushing in; the
ring of muscle around the entrance was tighter than anyone else's
had been, and JR was smaller than the others too. I went slow,
very slow and careful, not wanting to hurt her.
Eventually the cheeks of her ass were finally pressing against my
groin in all the right places. I moved in her with long slow
deep strokes, savoring each moment, particularly when I was in
deep, feeling her bottom against me. JR clenched the muscles in
her ass; it caused an explosion in my middle as I came into her.
JR grunted, I let out a long Ahhhhhhh! of pleasure.
JR chuckled, "Well, it's sure different."
I managed to find my voice. "Yes." I know I sounded strangled.
"You really like it this way, don't you?" JR asked, squeezing
her cheeks again, milking a tiny bit more cum from me.
"Oh yeah!" I sighed.
"Well," JR said pragmatically, "to tell you the truth, what I
would like is to go take a shower, then crawl back here into bed,
and have you spend the night in me."
"That sounds good." Deep, deep down, I knew I was close to
exhaustion, that JR or making love the way we had aside, I was
close to being completely out of it.
My first shower with my sister; another warm and wet experience,
that I regretted having to keep short. It was followed by my
sliding inside a much drier than expected JR. It took some time
to get fully inside her; time we both enjoyed. Still, as soon as
I was inside her, I was asleep.
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