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From: Incest Man <familyincest@graffiti.net>
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Subject: "The Adventures of Me and Martha Jane" Part 13D
Date: Sun, 18 Dec 2005 02:04:39 -0800
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http://www.incesttabooo.com/marthaj.html
The Adventures of Me and Martha Jane
Part 13D
Saturday.
I slept like a corpse until Martha woke me up at nine and told me it
was time for Fiore's last session.
"Gimme a break," I moaned, hiding my head under the pillow.
"Now you sound like a New Yorker," Martha said. "Come on, get up."
Again, I worked desperately in the club. Again, Fiore grinned at
me. "You do well for only a week! Good! But don't undo it on the
last day. Slow down!" At the end of the session he gave me a firm
handshake that had my jowls bouncing. "You worked hard. Good, I
like that! If you come back, I give you a special price! Hah? Not
because I like you so much, but I am in love with Martha! You're in
love with her, too, hah? Only someone in love works that hard!"
"Fiore," I said, not answering but looking him straight in the eye,
"Thank you."
He laughed a hearty, knowing laugh. Then he held up his famous,
warning finger. "Watch your limits, my friend! And good luck!"
I took my time getting back to Martha's. Going out of my way, I
entered Central Park and broke into a jog. But I soon slowed to a
tired walk. One day. One more day. "Never try to go back," Fiore
had said, "Only ahead." He had said, "Watch your limits, my
friend!" I heard his words and recalled his instructions. I was
tired and, for the time being, at a stalemate. Torturing myself to
surpass my limits at the last minute wouldn't get me very far. I
told myself I would have to be careful. I couldn't push it. I
couldn't push myself too hard. But would I be able to avoid pushing
Martha during the next twenty-four hours? As I strolled I continued
to observe and memorize. How long would it take me to get back to
New York? I was a day away from the airport, and I was already
thinking about how to get back to New York.
On my way upstairs I heard Ronnie's door open as I passed.
"Hey, you," she called behind me. I stopped and turned. She
beckoned me to her with a finger. She stood pursing her lips, her
eyes mildly accusing.
"Full of surprises, aren't you?" she said, one hand on her hip.
I grinned. "You don't have to say anything."
"Listen," she said, winking, "I owe you one."
I winked back. "You already gave me one."
"I give dividends," she said wryly. "Go on up there, Martha's
waiting for you." She winked one more time and went into her
apartment, her lips forming a noisy smooch as she closed the door.
Martha had constructed a huge salad for lunch. Having got out of
bed too late for breakfast, I ate at her dining room table until I
felt I wouldn't be able to walk. Martha was reticent. At one point
the room was so quiet that I only heard her chewing and swallowing.
It was as somber a meal as I'd ever had.
"So what do you want to do this afternoon?" she asked, not looking
at me. She prodded her salad listlessly with her fork.
"Right now? I want a nap." I stretched and groaned. "Fiore
expected a full day's work, even on the last day." I yawned.
"Wanna take a nap with me?" I asked.
"You go ahead. I have so much to do to get ready for work again
next week. I won't have time all day tomorrow, half the day will be
at LaGuardia to see you off," she said, pushing a cherry tomato
across her plate. "I wish you'd go straight back to doing what you
want to do when you get home."
"I was thinking about that."
"Don't think about it, Steven," she said solemnly. "Do it. You
know you want to. Don't..." She stopped and sighed and shoved the
tomato in her mouth.
"Don't?" I said.
She shook her head no. I was reminded of how she'd behaved during
our last few minutes together at the Holiday Inn, years ago, in
Memphis.
"I won't preach," she said. "I do enough of that during the week
and with Ronnie. It doesn't do any good."
"Im not ignoring you. I listen to every word you say."
"I hope so," she said.
I rose and gave her a kiss and stretched again. "Okay, we can think
of something to do later. Anyway, I want to make that midnight trip
to the newsstand and get a Sunday Times, if we don't do anything
else. But I'm really pooped right now. You wore me out this week.
You and Fiore. And New York. And Ronnie." She didn't say
anything, so I kissed her cheek again. "It's been a wonderful week.
Really. I'm not the same person. You did a hell of a job with me,
and I'm not forgetting anything I saw or learned."
She gripped my hand. "Good, Steven. And I'm glad to hear you tell
me so, for a change. Hey, go take your nap so we can get around a
little tonight."
I got down to my undies and lay in bed. A strong breeze blew into
the bedroom and smelled faintly of the East River. I pulled the
sheet over me. In about half a minute I was asleep. I dreamed I
was home. I saw all the faces of my family, my parents, uncles,
aunts, the Ricci's, the Lobianco's. They smiled amiably, some of
them lovingly. In the dream I asked, "Who are you smiling at?" No
one answered.
Then in the dream I heard Martha talking on the telephone. I opened
my eyes. The long shadows on the buildings outside the window told
me it was late in the afternoon. I rolled on my back and stretched.
Martha was still talking on the phone in the living room.
"Ronnie, I don't know, I already told you...But there's not enough
time, and you know how something like that...Yeah, right...I don't
know, it's...No, I don't...No, honey, don't. All right?
Please?...That's better...Okay, I'll call you later,
maybe...Maybe...Later, Ron..."
Martha hung up. I heard her moving around in the living room.
After a minute she looked into the bedroom and saw I was awake. She
sat on the bed, unsmiling.
"Well?" she said.
"I guess I'll just lie here and look at you for a while."
She frowned and said, "Oh, you."
"Well, what's wrong with that? Why should I wear myself out on the
last day? I've run myself ragged all week. That's not what a
vacation is supposed to be. I have enough money for a camera. Why
don't I buy a cheap camera and take some pictures of Central Park?"
"You really like it there?"
"Sure. Might even have a hot dog. Fiore won't be watching."
She looked down at her hands and fiddled with a finger and then
sighed and shifted uncomfortably on the bed and then dropped her
hands and complained, "Oh, hon, why is this so hard to say?"
"I never knew you to have that much trouble saying what you wanted
to. I envy you. You're so much more outspoken than most people."
"No, hon, it's-- -" She gazed out the window with a look of painful
frustration. "Oh, I..." She sighed and looked down and confessed,
"I guess I don't want you to go."
I didn't say anything.
"Oh, baby, there was so much more I wanted to do. It seems we're
always parting, we're always doing something else, and yet I...even
if I did everything I wanted to do, you'd still have to go. And,
anyway, I can't do everything I wanted to. I don't want you going
back to those people. That's really what I don't want, I don't want
you with them anymore. I want you learning, and growing, and -- But
I can't have it, I can't keep you like a damn gerbil and I really
ought to just leave you be. I have no right to fill your head with
wild ideas that you can't use down there. I really want you on your
own, being you, and..." She stopped and winced. She squeezed her
temples with her palms. "Oh, damn, why can't I just say this?
Damn!"
"I know what you're trying to say," I said frankly, getting up.
"Come on, I'll get dressed and we can see the Park."
"We've seen the park," she pouted.
"Come on. Can I get a camera somewhere, real cheap?"
"I guess so."
"Come on," I said, putting on my shirt. "I won't have you, or me,
sitting around here acting as if we were going to my funeral. I
wanna have fun with you. Come on. And you were the one who told
*me* that *I* couldn't do everything in the whole world!"
On East 86th Street I bought a cheap camera and some flashbulbs and
film. It was near sunset. I took a picture of her at the statue of
Hans Christian Anderson and she took one of me on Pilgrim Hill. She
cheered up, but not by much. Soon the sun was setting and we walked
home. For dinner we ate more of the salad. I took my day's third
round of vitamins. Then the yeast. Then more yeast. Then a third
spoonful.
"What in the world are you doing with all that yeast?"
"Fortifying myself," I said. I dipped into the jar for the fourth
time.
"Good heavens," Martha breathed.
I felt good. I was rested. I was drunk with desire for Martha. I
was, secretly, desperate for her. If this was to be our last night
for an undetermined length of time, I wanted to make it the most
memorable of the week.
"It's dark outside," I said. "Let's make it dark in here." She sat
at the table watching as I went through the apartment closing all
the curtains and turning off all the lights. She soon got the idea
and sat with a coy smile until I finished. The apartment was inky
dark. I felt my way through the black, toward her. I heard her
clothes rustling. By the time I reached her she had removed all but
her panties and bra. I embraced her and kissed her hair and then
her temples and reached behind her to undo the bra. It fell from
her shoulders with a whisper. I breathed, "Here, in the dark.
Let's take our time. We have all night. You feel so good. Did I
ever tell you how good you feel?"
"Yes," she whispered. "Tell me again."
I told her as she helped me undress. I told her, standing and
caressing her lightly, running my fingers over her nipples and
around her waist and along her hips and across her delightful, warm,
flexing tush. After a moment she knelt down and began softly
tonguing and mouthing my cock in the dark.
I whispered, "Don't make me cum yet."
"Okay," I heard her say.
"I don't want to cum for a long time."
"Okay," she whispered. All I could hear or see or feel was her
mouth on me. When I was hard and twitching, which didn't take long,
she rose and led me by the hand into the bedroom. We both bumped
into things and sniggered and then slid into bed together. Martha
leaned over me and gave my nipples inner-lip kisses. It went on for
along time. We caressed each other and whispered, our words growing
more sensual and arousing. We slid on and off each other lazily.
"Does that feel good?" she asked, running a fingernail along my
balls.
"Yeah. Does that?" I asked, running my fingernail along the crease
of her still warm, moist derriere until I reached under her and felt
wet flesh.
"Ah, yes."
She moved up on me and kissed my neck, and I said "Mmm," and enjoyed
her doing it, and she licked my earlobes. She whispered into my
ear, "I want more."
"You'll get more, don't worry."
"Steven...you've made me very hot."
"Good."
"No, it's different, it's...I need more."
"Mm. Let's see what naughty things can I think of?"
"You wanna be naughty?"
"Yes."
"Really naughty, Steven?"
"Yes."
"Steven..." She licked my other earlobe.
"Yes?"
She paused and licked again. "I told Ronnie today not to come over.
I wanted you all to myself."
"You'll have plenty on your hands, don't worry."
"Steven."
"Yes?"
"Was it good with her?"
I didn't answer for a second and said, "You saw me, didn't you?"
"But it felt good, didn't it? I mean, different? Good different?"
"Yes."
"Steven...hon...I was very excited that night."
"I was too."
"Were you?"
"Yes."
"Mmm. Ah, your dick is wet. It got wet talking about it, didn't
it?"
"Yes."
"Wait," she whispered. "Don't move. I'll be back."
I lay with my cock twitching in the dark while she fumbled her way
into the living room. I heard her dial a number and then she was
talking on the phone briefly. I heard her hang up. She felt her
way along the walls into the room again. She lay down and leaned
over me. She whispered, shakily, fearfully, "Hon. Ronnie's coming
up. She'll be here in a minute. If it's not all right, tell me
now. I'm sorry, I feel...Oh, Steven, it's scary, I feel so wicked.
Stop me while it's still time to call her back."
I could barely see her face in the dark. "So call her back if you
want to."
"I don't want to. Do you want me to?"
I waited. "No," I whispered.
I heard her breathing nervously. She wiped her mouth and when she
whispered again her mouth sounded dry. "Why am I so scared? It's
not as if we never did anything before. Steven, I haven't been like
this in so long...and only with you."
"All right. If you want me to, I'll call her. What's her number?"
"No."
"You don't want me to?"
"Hold me, hon. Please hold me."
I put my arms around her and she lay on me fully and held my face in
her hands and suddenly gave me a long, deep, loving, searching kiss.
The kiss went on and on and she wouldn't interrupt, breathing
through her nose, her lips constantly mashing mine. A little later,
the front door opened and clicked shut. I heard Ronnie whisper,
"Martha? Steven? God, it's so dark in here." Martha ended the
kiss and whispered loudly, "Ronnie. In the bedroom." Ronnie said
okay, and Martha slid down my body and started licking my legs and
balls.
Ronnie knocked something over in the living room. It fell to the
floor, sounding like a big book. "Sorry," Ronnie said. "Leave it
to me, right?" Soon she appeared in the doorway, feeling her way
along the wall and then past the door, saying, "It's a good thing
this apartment is exactly like mine. It's so dark in here."
"Wait," Martha said. She got out of bed and gave me a beautifully
vague view of her rear as she hurriedly slid past Ronnie into the
living room. Ronnie peered into the bedroom from the doorway. She
appeared to be wearing a blanket or a bathrobe. "Steven?" she
asked, moving into the room. "What the hell is Martha doing?", and
I answered, "I don't know." Ronnie felt along the wall until she
was in front of the bed and then I felt her hand patting the foot of
the bed, and she touched my foot. "Oh!" she exclaimed softly, and
laughed gently. "That's you, right?"
"My foot," I answered.
"This is crazy," she said, but she sounded as if she were smiling.
"Yeah, I'm starting to get used to the dark." Her hand slithered up
my leg. "God, I can't get used to how warm you are. What the hell
are you two doing in the dark like this?"
"Planning a new deterrent against the Soviet Union."
"Ooooh," she said. "I do a little of that in my spare time, myself.
How far along did you get?" Her hand found my cock and closed
around it. "Hmm. I see I didn't get here too late. Or just in
time?" Her hand squeezed and rode up and down.
"Careful," I said, loudly.
"Okay. Sorry." She removed her hand and stood up. She called,
"Martha?"
In the living room, I heard the sound of a match flaring, and then
the dim glow from a candle trickled into the room. Ronnie stood at
the foot of the bed in a fluffy terrycloth bathrobe, smiling at me.
She looked down and saw my cock standing straight up and her smile
widened. "Oh," she said. "There you are." She slipped the
bathrobe from her shoulders and let it slide to the floor. In the
near-dark her small, slim torso and her long legs and arms and small
tits were outlined faintly in yellow. The candlelight danced and
flickered on her soft flesh. The whole scene was dreamlike,
unearthly. I lay in a fog of uncertainty, swallowing as a wave of
weird, indefinable sensations swept over me.
"Martha told me earlier she wanted you all to herself." She put one
knee on the bed and leaned toward me. She gave me a small, amiable
smile, her dark eyes glinting with two tiny, fiery dots of light.
"But I insisted. I still owe you one."
Martha came into the room and slid into bed beside me. She sat up
on her legs. Her face was calm, unsmiling, composed. But her eyes
had a darkly eerie intensity. I turned to her and she leaned down
and kissed me softly. "Do you still want to?" she whispered.
I kissed her back. "For you."
She whispered, "For you, hon. Us. Three of us."
I heard Ronnie whisper, "You two are so romantic with each other."
I asked Martha, "Still scared?"
She swallowed. "A little."
Ronnie said, her hand sliding up my leg. "Your darkness, Martha.
Remember? It's your darkness. You're always so scared of it."
"I know," Martha said uneasily. Her lips touched mine briefly and
left a tiny string of moisture between us. "But Steven's not afraid
of his. At least, I don't think so. He's the one who turned out
the lights."
"Steven," Ronnie said, settling on the bed with one thigh over my
legs. Her wet cunt was on my knee. "You're so full of surprises.
Hmm, is there no end to it?" Her lips touched my thigh and then
slid wetly across the head of my cock. I kissed Martha again. She
held my face and kissed me back, and then looked at me with the same
unsmiling face and then her eyes seemed to simmer with a soft heat.
"Don't let him cum, Ronnie." Then she looked back at me.
She whispered almost inaudibly, her voice urging me with an
otherworldly intensity that I had never heard in her, "Fuck Ronnie,
Steven."
Ronnie had condoms in the bathrobe pocket. She looked up at me as I
lay between her raised knees and she smiled mischievously as she
unrolled the condom onto my waiting cock and then aimed me into her.
Her smile melted into a steady gaze as I slowly fucked her. She
said it was nice to look into the eyes of someone fucking her so
gently. "Intense," she breathed, "So intense." As my finger did on
Wednesday, my cock found Ronnie narrower than Martha, but deeper,
and the dulling condom had me wondering how it really felt inside
her. The condom slowed me down; there was just enough sensation to
keep me hard in Ronnie. She said I was just the right size and
shape and that I felt very comfortable in her. I had difficulty
contacting her clit because she had her legs around me and she kept
moving too much under me. Soon I felt I might cum, so I left her
and rested for a minute and then Martha was ready. Martha refused
to use a condom, so I removed it and entered her without one.
Ronnie said she didn't know how Martha could chance it without
protection, and Martha said it was a safe time of the month and she
had additional means for later, and Ronnie scoffed and said, "God,
Martha I can't trust the papal method." To Ronnie's amazement,
Martha came almost immediately, and noisily, and I had to move very
slowly to hold myself back, but I knew I couldn't resist much
longer. Ronnie said she never saw a man ejaculate, so Martha asked
me to pull out and Ronnie could finish me with her hand. I sat up
on my legs and Ronnie sat in front of me jacking me off, squealing
delightedly as I squirted onto her shoulder and forearm and dribbled
over her hand.
While we rested Ronnie asked Martha how it felt to cum during
intercourse, and Martha tried to describe it but couldn't. They
both stroked and sucked me until I was ready again, which took
longer than I expected, considering how heated I was, and Ronnie put
another condom on me, saying, "Warning, folks. I don't know how
you're gonna make me cum, Steven, I don't have the slightest idea
what to do." Martha and I prompted her, telling her not to raise
her legs over me but to learn how to angle her pelvis so that my
cock could find her clit with the rubber on, and after a while I
found ways to sense her needs and she smiled up at me in surprise
and muttered, "Oh, yeah. Yeah, I see now. Oh, I *feel* it! Oh,
keep doing that! God, it's so good, it's right on it!" Martha
asked if Ronnie were comfortable and Ronnie was quickly growing
agitated and she gasped, "Who cares if I'm comfortable, it works!
God, it's good!" She watched me going in and out and looked up at
me and I whispered, "Feel it now?" and she leered and whispered
"Yes," and I asked her "Just like that?" and she whispered "Yes"
and she watched my eyes and in the same secretive whisper she asked
me, "Feel the darkness? Feel the darkness, sweetheart?" and I
moaned "Yes," and her blue eyes glowed with a deep, dark, moist blue
and she smelled humid like sage and she whispered, "Me, too. So
good. So sweet good," and Martha gazed at me from beside Ronnie's
face and she held my cheek and smiled lovingly and said "Devils are
dancing in your eyes, Steven," and soon Ronnie's eyes closed and she
whispered dreamily, happily, "I'm a little girl...I'm a
small...soft...wet...fucking little girl, and my darkness and
Steven's darkness are fucking. It's so good, Martha. Oh it's so
good," and she ground her cunt on my cock and I fucked her deeply
and methodically for several minutes, and then I slowed as she
gasped and trembled and winced, and she came loudly, her slim hips
yearning off the bed and her pelvis quivering against me. When it
was over she breathed, "Jesus!" and I held her for a while and then
Martha kissed me. And I wanted Martha. I had fucked soft, slender
Ronnie with a pure and strangely gentle lust. But I needed Martha's
love and passion and raw intensity. I entered Martha without the
rubber. Uncontrollably we whispered obscenities while we screwed
and Ronnie gaped at us and then caught on and lay with her face
close to Martha's, whispering the same words and phrases in Martha's
ear as Martha started cumming, and Martha came wildly, gritting her
teeth and laughing "Yes!". My cock was so hard I wondered if it
would fall off if it got any bigger, and Ronnie asked, "Wanna cum in
me?" and she got another condom onto me and I fucked her hungrily
with her knees raised and her legs spread the way she liked it. But
I couldn't finish with the rubber, so Martha lay back and rolled me
onto her and removed the rubber and put me inside her. She told
Ronnie as my pumping became arduously slow and deliberate, "He's
close, Ronnie, he's close," and Ronnie asked her how she knew and
Martha grit her teeth as she watched me straining into her and told
Ronnie "I know, that's all," and she told Ronnie to put her fingers
on the muscles under my balls. Martha said, "Do it, Ronnie, hurry!
He's so close!" I felt Ronnie's fingers searching under my scrotum
and then she pressed and found the knot of muscle and I started
squirting and heard Ronnie gasp, "God, Martha, yeah," and Martha
grinned at me and her eyes were flaming and strange and crazed and
her cunt squeezed and she asked with a greedy smile, "Good?" and I
gasped breathlessly, "Fuck," and I came with Ronnie's fingers under
my balls and her lips kissing my left buttock and I growled "Fuck"
into Martha's wild gaze, and I came for such a long time that
Martha's eyes on mine turned into a blind stare and she whispered
"I'm cummin' again-- -oh I'm...oh, hon!" and then her eyes closed
and her cunt contracted. I finished, but kept moving until she
finished as well.
We rested again and got into a long, poetic, whispering session with
Ronnie about her drawings of darkness. As Martha dozed off, Ronnie
and I continued talking about her drawings while I fingered her
until she came again. "Another first," she sighed, her hips nodding
as she finished. Soon we were all asleep. I awoke in the dim light
and saw Ronnie getting dressed. She smiled at me and kissed me and
whispered, "That was good. That was good and dark and wonderful. I
want to leave Martha alone with you. She loves you, Steven. You
know that, don't you? So do I, now." She kissed me again and left.
Martha slept. I lay on my back with my arm cradling her head and
fell asleep again.
Continued...
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