The Master's Project (6) - Micky And Susan

   by Lubrican

   Chapter Four

   A few minutes had passed while I cradled my jewels and waited for the
urge to puke to abate.  Susan tidied up the table and Micky just sat and
watched me do what I'm sure appeared to her to be fondling myself.

   "Are you guys sure about this?" I asked.  "You don't owe me anything or
...  anything."

   "I told you we talked about it," said Susan.  "It's simple.  You're
different than most men ...  special.  You have something to offer us, and
we have something to offer you.  As friends ...  really close friends. 
It's kind of like when Micky and I did something together the first time.
We both thought we'd like it, and we did.  Now we think we'd like to give
us a birthday present for you."

   The way she turned it around, being honest and clever at the same time,
was funny enough that I chuckled.  It didn't hurt so badly any more, though
I was still a little queasy in the stomach.

   "You want Mommy Susan to kiss it and make it all better?" asked Susan in
a sultry voice.  I guess she believed me when I said I wasn't disgusted.  I
should have noticed her self-characterization as 'Mommy Susan', but I
didn't.  I looked at Micky, and she had a tentative smile on her lips. 
That's as far as it went, but she at least didn't look mad any more.

   "Very, very much," I said, looking first at Micky and then back at
Susan. "I'd like that very, very much.  But what about Mommy Micky?"

   I could play that game.  Of course I had no idea what the rules were,
but I was willing to play.

   "Two kisses are much better than one," said Susan, looking at Micky.

   Micky folded her arms under her breasts.  I realized that those nipples
were much more visible right now than they had been earlier.

   "You dressed like that for me?" I asked.

   She nodded, looking uncertain.

   "I'm honored," I said.  I meant it more than words could communicate. 
"You're beautiful."

   "She is, isn't she," said Susan in a voice that almost purred.  "She
looks scrumptious, doesn't she.  You could hardly tell how nervous she is."

   "You're nervous?" I asked Micky.

   "Of COURSE I'm nervous," she grumped.  "I haven't done this in fifteen
years.  I have no idea whether this is a horrible mistake, or one of the
best things that will happen to me this year.  Do you know how unsettling
it is to be horny and nervous at the same time?"

   "You don't have to be nervous," I said.

   "I know that, but I am anyway," she shot back.  "I'm not a virgin, Bob."
She shuffled her feet.  "But I feel like one.  What were you talking about
a minute ago?  It sounded like you've had sex with other people in your
project."

   "That's why I reacted the way I reacted," I explained.  I guess I don't
see myself as the kind of guy who gets ...  um ...  these kinds of
opportunities."

   I had almost said 'sucked into situations like this', but thought better
of it at the last second.

   "And it happened more than once, which was even more surprising.  When
you said ...  what you said ...  it just blew me away because ...  well ...
it's just hard to believe." I wasn't lying.  It WAS hard to believe any of
the women I had interviewed had offered themselves to me.

   "Ooooo" squealed Susan.  "He's even modest, Micky.  Ohhh can I have him,
pleeease.  You know you want to do this, Micky.  We talked about it and you
got wet."

   "I know," said Micky less than enthusiastically.  It's just so different
thinking about him ...  and this ...  and you ...  and him ...  and me."

   I have to point out here that I misunderstood almost everything I had
heard thus far.  I thought that Susan, being the more feminine of the two,
was offering herself, with Micky's blessing, and that was my present.  "Us"
in that scenario meant me and Susan, with Micky's part of the offering
being that she was sharing the love of her life.  I may have understood
their relationship, but I still had traces of my original bias deep down in
my brain.  I had assigned the role of 'male' to Micky, in this lesbian
relationship, like a lot of other people did.  And that bias I had was
responsible for not understanding what was really going on.  All I saw was
that Micky was obviously uncomfortable about all this, so I offered her a
way out.

   "Look, seeing as how it's MY birthday, I should be the one telling you
what I WANT for my birthday.  And seeing as how you two love each other,
and I don't want to mess things up between you, I'm afraid I have to demand
that, if anything sexual goes on, it must include both of you at the same
time.  I'm talking threesome here."

   See, what I thought I had just done was demand something that would be a
deal breaker.  I was actually kind of proud of myself in a way.  Any man
would have been salivating to be able to mate with either of these women,
but I had put their feelings above my own.

   But, like most men, even though they had made the offer clear enough for
a deaf man to understand, I hadn't heard it.

   "Well, of course," said Susan, looking confused.  "We could never do
things with you alone.  That would be cheating!"

   "Say what?" I asked.

   "It's not just one of us," said Susan.  "We're BOTH your birthday
present." She looked at Micky.  "Didn't we TELL him that?" She looked back
at me like I was crazy.

   "I knew that!" I blurted.  I put my head back down on the table.  "No I
didn't." My voice was muffled.

   "That's why I want him," said Micky.  "He's just such a normal, every
day man, but when he's honest like that he's so cute I just want to eat him
up."

   Well, the short story is that I found myself being herded into the
bedroom.

   But you don't want the short story, of course.  The long story is much
more interesting.

   The trip from the kitchen to their bedroom was probably only forty feet
or so.  But all of us were suddenly living a life we were not prepared for
in some ways.  I had never been with two women whose announced intention
was to make love with me together.  Sure, I had been in the room with two
women who were naked, and who were intent on making love, but there had
always been another man present too.  The fact was that I had a sudden
attack of doubt.  Every man dreams, at one time or another, of having two
women vying for his sexual attentions at the same time.  But few men think
about what that means.  It's hard enough to satisfy ONE woman sometimes. 
Making TWO women happy ...  women who had sworn off men to boot ...  well
that's a daunting challenge.

   And I knew, somehow that I had to make them both happy.  This was
something new and risky for them, and even though it was MY birthday, I
knew that this needed to be good for THEM too.

   Add to that the fact that they were leading me toward that private space
no man had been inside - ever - with these two women, and their emotional
state was just as frenzied as my own.  They were breaking one of their own
rules ...  violating that private space, in a way.  Not only were they
breaking their fast of men, they were doing it at the same time, together,
and doing it in the place usually reserved for their love with each other
to be expressed.

   It was a forty-foot trip of starts and stops, kisses and hugs, both
between them and me and them and ...  them.  You might think I felt left
out when they were kissing and groping each other in the hallway, while I
just stood there, leaning against the wall.  Think of it as a conversation
at a cocktail party.  Lots of people are talking when you're not talking,
but it isn't necessarily boring.  You're all there, having a conversation,
and each person adds a little to the situation.  Watching them being in
love with each other was a kick, and they weren't even naked!  And they
they'd turn on me and suddenly I was back in the conversation, kissing and
stroking two beautiful women.

   It was an uphill trip all the way, based on the way we were all panting
when we actually got to the bedroom door.  I pressed Micky against that
door as I kissed her, and her lips were hungry and demanding on mine. 
Susan hugged us both from behind me.  Metaphorically I was the "meat" in a
sandwich, and my own meat was responding as such.  Somewhere between the
kitchen and the bedroom my brain did a function check and, ignoring the
lingering pain in my scrotum, it ordered my prick to make me proud.

   Micky mewled as I shoved my erection into her abdomen.  The sound she
made was one of half terror and half agonized impatience to get at what was
terrorizing her.

   I turned around in the sandwich and treated Susan to the same feeling,
rubbing the lump made by my prick across her mons sideways as I found her
wet and willing lips.  She rubbed back, and rubbed her chest against mine
too.

   Micky opened the bedroom door and pulled us both through it.  Up to that
point in time, not a single word had been said, once we'd left the kitchen.
Oh, there were moans and grunts and rasping breaths to fill the silence, to
say nothing of the wet and sloppy kisses that bounced off the walls, but
nobody said anything in actual words.  My reference to "conversation" was
more a thing of body language than vocal.

   As soon as we entered the inner sanctum, though, they started arguing
immediately.  They argued about who got to take my shirt off, and who got
to unbuckle my belt and unzip my pants.  They were arguing about who got to
pull my underwear down when my pants dropped and it became clear nobody
did, because I wasn't wearing anything for anybody to pull down.

   There was a sudden hush in the room as two women squatted, one on either
side of me, staring at my prick.  Maybe they stared at each other past my
prick.  I don't know.

   Susan stood up and whipped off her tank top.

   "I dressed like a college girl," she explained.  "We wanted you to have
variety." She ripped off the sports bra and shoved her running shorts down
over slim hips.  She wasn't wearing anything under them.  She had the body
of a thirteen year old, except that it was all grown up.  She looked so
smooth that rain wouldn't be able to stick to her body.  "I'm so horny,"
she moaned.

   Micky stood too, and I bent over.  They had forgotten to argue about my
shoes and socks, so I dealt with that and stepped out of my pants, leaving
them on the floor.  When I stood back up I looked at Susan.

   "Wow!" I said appreciatively.  She blushed.

   I turned to look at Micky and saw her fingers were at the buttons of her
blouse.

   "Let me," I asked.  "Please?"

   I teased them by taking my time.  I unbuttoned a button and then spread
the cloth apart.  Twice I traced a finger along the exposed skin.  She was
small enough there was no cleavage, but she shuddered and closed her eyes
the second time I did that.

   "You're taking so long," complained Susan.

   "You were impatient," I scolded her.  "I like unwrapping my presents."

   Micky opened her eyes and looked down as I undid the next to last
button. I pulled the blouse out of her skirt.  She looked past me and let
out an explosive, nervous giggle.  I turned to see Susan pulling her
running shorts back on.

   "Hurry up!" she glared at me.  "I wanna be unwrapped!"

   "The shorts are enough," I grinned.

   When I pulled Micky's blouse all the way open she closed her eyes again.
I traced my fingers across nipples that were now erect and pointed, and she
shuddered again.

   "It feels so different," she murmured.

   "You ain't felt nothin' yet," I said.  I leaned down to suck briefly at
one nipple and she moaned, her hands coming lightly to my head.  Then her
hands went to her skirt.  She unzipped it and it fell to the floor like it
weighed ten pounds.  She was wearing a garter belt and powder blue panties
that were lacy and very feminine.

   "We didn't know what kind of undies you like," she said, her voice just
above a whisper.

   "I like those," I said.  "But, like any man, I can't wait to see you
without them."

   She laughed at that and pushed me away.  I turned and knelt to jerk down
Susan's running shorts as she jumped, surprised at how quickly I moved.  I
leaned forward to lick her pubic hair while I cupped her hard buttocks in
both hands and pulled her against me.  Then I kissed my way up to one of
her equally small breasts and found a rosy stiff nipple waiting for me.  I
sucked on it lovingly and then turned and jumped on the bed, bouncing and
flopping onto my back, spread eagle.

   "Be gentle with me girls," I pleaded in a falsetto voice.

   Then it was a general pileup, with squealing girl voices, and a few
growls from me, as hands fluttered everywhere, rubbing here, cupping there,
squeezing this, pinching that.  Both of them crawled all over the bed. 
Micky kissed me while Susan swallowed my prick whole and then dragged her
lips upward lovingly.

   "I'd almost forgotten how warm they are when they're real," she sighed,
kissing the tip of my cock several times.

   "I remember them being soft and hard at the same time," said Micky,
breaking the kiss to speak and then going back for more.  I had my middle
finger in her pussy and was using it to pull her toward me.

   "Yup," said Susan.  "That's what we got right here ...  soft and warm
and hard all at the same time.

   Then they argued about who got to feel it inside first.  While they were
doing that they kissed each other, and Susan got rid of the rest of what
Micky was wearing.  When she pulled the panties down she dove in between
Micky's thighs and slurped for a few seconds while Micky stretched like a
cat, arching her loins up at her lover's face.  Susan crawled up to push
Micky's face aside and kissed me, her face wet.

   "That's how she tastes," she said when she was done.

   "You taste good," I said turning my head to find Micky's face an inch
away.  "I could get used to that taste."

   "OK," she said softly, "but you probably can't compete.  Susan is the
best pussy-licker in the whole world."

   She pushed herself up then, and straddled my face, lowering her pussy to
my lips.  I reached up to control her hips with my hands.  She settled onto
my lips with a sigh and I did my best to compete.  I felt hot pussy slip
down to wrap my prick in tightness, and Susan's hands came around under
Micky's arms to play with her breasts.  The bed started bouncing.

   "What are you doing back there?" asked Micky, knowing full well what her
lover was doing.

   "I'm giving me Bob's birthday present for him," moaned Susan.  "Ohhh
Micky, you're going to be soooo glad we decided to do this."

   "I'm already glad," purred Micky.  "He's not bad ...  not bad at all."

   Let me make an understatement.  Never having been in this situation
before, with two happy, naked women making love to me, I got a little extra
excited.

   I couldn't talk, because, while Micky didn't weigh all that much, she
knew how to use every ounce to keep her pussy lips welded firmly to the
only set of lips I had.  She was more or less masturbating her clit on my
nose, but because she was moving, shall we say, energetically ...  I had
plenty of time to breathe while she made my whole face wet with that
delicious juice.  I kept trying to nip at her clit with my lips, and
occasionally she let me suck it in, but she couldn't stay still.

   Meanwhile, down in the lower forty, Susan was about to strike oil a lot
sooner than most women strike oil with me, so to speak.  I had the sudden
crystal clear realization that neither of these women could possibly be on
birth control.  Lesbians have no use for the pill, and a diaphragm would be
an equally useless expenditure of funds.  No condom had been produced.  I
thought immediately of Tanya, and then Lizzie and Rachel, two of whom were
suspiciously pregnant after ...  striking oil in Bob's lower forty.  With
Tanya it had been on purpose.  Then I thought of Lisa and her daughter
Nikki, both of whom did things ...  naturally.  I didn't know yet whether
those liaisons might bear fruit.  The Senator's wife had made love with
abandon, but it had only been that one time.  Well three times that one
night, anyway.

   And here I was again, bareback in a fertile pussy, about to do my best
to increase the population if she didn't get off quickly.  About all I
could do was buck my hips up extra hard, because I sure couldn't say
anything.  Whether she got the message or not I don't know.  But what she
said when I exploded made it clear she knew what had just happened.

   "Mmmmmm, he's squirting in me, Micky.  I'd forgotten how good that feels
too ...  all warm and wet ...  mmmmmmm."

   "Ohhhhh fuuuuuck" gasped Micky, and I found out she had only been damp.
She squirted so hard, and squirted so much that I got it in my nose and had
to close my eyes.  I choked for an instant and then her weight left me as
she got up on one knee.  Her hand went between her legs and rubbed
furiously.  It had to be to prolong her orgasm, because she was dripping
all over me as I gasped in air and blew it out my nose.  My hands wiped at
my eyes and I blinked and swallowed at the same time.

   "Sorry," she panted.  "I should have warned you."

   "'s OK," I sputtered.

   Susan's hips had gone into overdrive while all this was happening, and
she groaned her way through her own orgasm as I wiped my face and Micky
finished up and flopped onto her back beside us.  Susan's pussy clamped
down tight, and I raised my head to see her abdominal muscles actually
rippling.  Then she stopped, her head hanging, and her pony tail draped
across the left side of her neck.

   "Ohhhh I had no idea how much I've missed that." she said, her voice
throaty.

   She crawled over to Micky and assumed the classic 69 position.  I saw a
string of semen drip down and Micky opened her mouth to capture it and then
slurped at the pussy I had just filled up.

   I was left to lie there weakly, and gather my strength.

   "You taste good too, Bob," mumbled Micky.

   They pleasured each other through another orgasm apiece.  It isn't fair
that women can have them right in a row like that, with no recovery time.

   Then they returned to me, pushing and pinching and making me move until
each was lying on another side of me, on their stomachs, with their faces
right next to Mister Happy.

   And he WAS happy.  It kind of fit with the birthday thing, you know?

   They argued about who was going to suck it.  What made that hilarious
was that whichever one wasn't claiming rights, had it in her mouth.  It
went something like this:

   Micky (while Susan was sucking): "Hey, don't hog it!  I should get to do
that.  You already had it in your hand AND in your pussy."

   Susan (after pulling off, and while Micky was then sucking it): "No, I
should go first on everything.  I'm trying him out so I'll know if you'll
like it or not."

   Micky (after deep-throating it and then sliding her lips up to suck the
knob, and while Susan was back on it sliding her mouth up and down along
its length): "No, it was my idea to do this in the first place.  I should
get to do it."

   Susan (after tonguing the head and using her hand to squeeze out a drop
of precum (or maybe post cum), which she lapped up, and while Micky was
trying to do the same thing): "No, I got some in my pussy, and now I need
some in my mouth.  It's a balance thing."

   Micky (after kissing up and down its length and then jacking it to full
hardness, and while Susan was trying to deep throat it like she had seen
Micky do): "No, you got some in your pussy and now it's my turn."

   It went on and on like that as they traded back and forth, until I was
ready to go and anxious to find out if the similarities between them
included a tight, hot pussy that would let me squirt in it.

   They might have been out of practice, but they recognized when a prick
was good for what it was intended to do.  I thought it was ironic that
Susan had ridden me, taking the superior position, but Micky wanted to be
underneath.  When we got arranged and I slid into her, she told me what she
wanted.

   "Ahhhhhhh, you're right baby," she said to Susan first.  "This feels so
much better than Henry."

   "Henry?" I asked, digging in deep.  She was, in fact, just as hot and
tight and velvety as Susan.

   "That's our dildo's name," she sighed, thrusting up at me.  "Lie down on
me, Bob, I want to feel your weight on top of me."

   I did, and that meant all I could do was use my hands to pull me toward
her head and then rock back down a little.  I only moved inside her maybe
an inch, but it probably put a lot of pressure on her clit.  Her arms went
around me and she helped me rock.

   "He feels so different," she moaned.

   "It's kind of nice, huh?" asked Susan, sliding her hands along my leg
and up to my buttocks.  She started helping me rock too.

   "I love you baby," moaned Micky, obviously talking to Susan.

   "But you love that too, don't you?" asked Susan.

   "Oh fuck yes," grunted Micky and her velvety pussy became a vice around
my prick.

   Micky made lots of noise when she came, a series of grunts and huffs and
squeaks that, while different, were woven into a rhythm that matched the
walls of her pussy as it milked me.  But I had cum not all that long ago,
and the urge wasn't upon me, so I just rode her a little harder until she
went limp under me.

   "That's one," I whispered.

   "Hey!  I only got one!" complained Susan, her hands sliding down to
tickle me between my ass cheeks.  That made me thrust harder up into Micky.

   Micky spread her legs, pulling her knees up to flank my hips, and I
dropped my knees down to the bed.  I was able to do my little circle thing
then, where I rested almost all my weight on my hips and went in little
circles.  That got her off again and she made all those sounds again.

   We one more time before I felt the urge to fertilize her.  This time I
could talk, so I warned her.

   "Gonna squirt in a few seconds," I moaned.

   "Mmmmmmm" was the only reply I got from her.

   So I went in deep and stopped, and the only thing that moved was my
prick as it bulged and then spat long ropes of sperm into her belly.

   ============================================

   All that had taken about an hour.  When you read stories on the
internet, and in Penthouse Forum and places like that, the guy always goes
for hours and squirts gallons of semen and leaves the women limp, sobbing,
but satisfied husks.  Then he stands up, still stiff as a board, and preens
in front of them.

   Well, the fact of the matter was that it was I who was the limp husk
after that hour.  They, on the other hand, were peppy and excited and
voluble in praising each other for their brilliant idea to suck the life
out of poor quarter-of-a-century-old Bob.  Since I was down for the count,
they spent another hour making love to each other.  They ran the gamut of
emotions while doing it.  There were long moments of soft kisses, and
stroking, interspersed with bed-shaking, head board-pounding activity and
cries of release.

   Then both of them were sitting, Indian style, one on each side of me, as
they played with my limp noodle.

   "I had also forgotten how men are so ...  transitory," commented Micky,
pulling fruitlessly at my penis.

   "Be nice," scolded Susan.  "It's his birthday, and he's a quarter of a
century old.  Have some tact."

   "But I feel so empty," complained Micky.  "And you sucked all the good
stuff out of me," she complained further.

   Susan's fingers went to the wet split of her sex and rubbed gently.

   "It felt so good ...  all that warm stuff up inside me." She leaned over
to kiss me, putting her hands on my chest.  Her legs were still folded and
she was resting on both knees, like some kind of Yoga guru.

   "You'll get all hard again ...  won't you Bob?" she asked sweetly.

   "I want to," I said, somewhat weakly, I have to admit.

   "No pressure," she said, kissing me again.  "I think we've just decided
that it may take a while to give you all of your birthday present."

   She rocked back down into a seated position and looked at Micky.

   "What do you think?" she asked.

   "I think I'm glad we did this," said Micky, still playing with my prick.

   "I'm glad you feel that way," said Susan.

   "It feels so different," said Micky.  "I mean it's going to change
things a lot."

   I had been busy looking at their breasts, kind of tuning out what seemed
a little like pillow talk.  But her comment seemed odd somehow, and caught
my attention.

   "We've always wanted this change," said Susan.

   That made me even more curious.  What change could they be talking
about? They were committed to each other, and I had no illusions that I had
just convinced them to take up men again.

   "What are you talking about?" I asked curiously.

   Susan looked down at me fondly.

   "We should have asked you first," she said.  "But once we decided to do
this, I think we got carried away a little bit.

   "You did ask me.  You even said I didn't have to," I pointed out.  "Not
that any sane man would have refused you," I added.

   "No, that's not what I meant," said Susan.  "We thought about what you
said ...  about having babies.  I know we said we weren't interested ... 
but that's changed now."

   "Oh," I said.

   You might be sitting there thinking "Well Duh!, Bob," but how many men
actually get recruited to father children on a woman they're not married
to. Men try to knock women up all the time, but usually that's not the most
welcome outcome, as far as the woman is concerned.  It's pretty rare for a
woman to say "Come on, Bob, just knock me up, please?" It had happened to
me more than once in the last six months, and while YOU might think that
should have prepared me for it, I can argue just as rationally that the law
of averages was on my side for not suspecting anything at all.  So don't
give me a hard time for being surprised.

   "You sure?" I asked.

   I felt a little like a man who went into the bank to make a withdrawal,
and who pulled a grocery shopping list out of his pocket, along with his
pen, while standing at the teller's window.  The teller, thinking it's a
stick-up note, starts shoving money into a sack and thrusts it out at him,
saying "Here, take this!" It wouldn't be at all out of character for a man
in that position to say "You sure?"

   "They will be OUR children, Bob," said Susan, meaning hers and Micky's.
"That means we'll raise them and love them and tell them who their father
is, and how we met him.  You'll always be welcome to come and see them and
interact with them, but Micky and I will raise them together.  Can you live
with that?"

   Remember that pesky little bias I mentioned earlier?  Well, it raised
it's ugly little head again.  With Tanya, impregnating her was a patently
surrogate thing to do.  That baby would have a mommy and a daddy to raise
it, and I had agreed to that.

   Gertie was pregnant, but nobody knew whether Hiram or I had fathered
that one, and she had found a man who would raise it with her anyway.

   Though I didn't know it at this moment, Jane was pregnant too, but even
if I HAD known it, I still wouldn't have been sure it was mine, and I could
never try to intrude on that family to stress any "parental rights" I might
think of.

   I was scheduled to be Rachel's birthday present in a few years, and the
inference was that she was going to let me knock her up then, but she'd
probably live at home, since her primary lover was her father.  Who knew
what would actually happen, but if things DID go that way, there would be a
mommy and a daddy for that baby too.  It was the same with Lisa and her
daughter Nikki, should my seed ever take root there.

   But this seemed different somehow.  These two women were offering to
accept my seed because of who I was.  There was no man in their lives, and
wouldn't be.  If I made them pregnant, my babies would have no father. 
Don't get me wrong ...  I knew quite well that Micky and Susan would make
great parents, and that their children would grow up with the same benefits
as any other child in our society, but it just felt different somehow.  In
THIS case, I felt a need to be involved, should I create life.

   "I'd get to see them?"

   "Of course," said Micky.  "They'll know who you are, and why we decided
to do this."

   "And I'd get to do ...  Daddy things with them?" I asked, not having any
really clear notion of what "Daddy things" actually meant.

   "You'd be their Daddy, Bob," said Susan.

   "But I wouldn't live here," I said, somehow knowing that was true.

   "That's tempting," said Micky seriously, "but I'm not sure that would
work out well."

   "Am I just a handy penis?" I asked.  I was feeling a tad bit insecure I
think.

   "Of course not!" said Susan, putting her hand on my chest.  "You're a
man we admire and respect.  Your seed is precious to us because of who you
are, Bob, and not just because you're a man.  At the same time, the way
things developed, it just seemed like it would be a waste to pass up an
opportunity like this."

   I felt a stirring in my groin.  I don't think it had as much to do with
the fact that two hands were fondling me, as it did with the fact that
these women wanted MY seed, rather than just any man's seed.  That pretty
well banishes insecurity.

   "What if it takes more than once?" I asked, for completely self serving
reasons.

   I guess that showed through, because Micky laughed.

   "We haven't had a man in fifteen years, Bob.  I, for one, had a pretty
good time here, and I'm not waiting another fifteen years to do it again."

   I covered my face with both hands and moaned through my fingers.  "I'm
just a sex toy!"

   Susan was suddenly lying on top of me, her warm body rubbing all over
me.

   "No you're not," she said, kissing my fingers.  "You're going to be the
father of our children.  This is serious, Bob."

   I took my hands away from my face.  "This is crazy, that's what this is.
Women just don't DO this," I said.

   Susan kissed me lightly.  "You may have noticed, Bob, that Micky and I
aren't your average woman."

   ===================================================

   The upshot of it was that she was right.  There was nothing average
about them, even though 99% of their lives was as completely normal as it's
possible to be.  They were two people who decided that what they wanted to
make their lives into was worthwhile, and to heck with what anybody else
thought about it.  They weren't hurting anybody.  They didn't corrupt the
people around them.  They just wanted to be happy, like most couples ... 
loving each other and raising some children.  What they wanted their lives
to be was normal.  They just didn't go about it in the same way as most
other people.

   I went back, again and again.  What was so outrageous about it wasn't
that I impregnated both of them.  What was so outrageous about it was that
our friendship was just like a hundred other friendships I had with a
hundred other people ...  except that this one included having sex with
them sometimes.  There were plenty of times when we went out to dinner and
then went home to watch a movie or something, and nothing happened except
that we all vegged out on the couch and ate things that weren't good for
us. The relationship wasn't BASED on having sex ...  it just INCLUDED
having sex once in a while.  That was what was seemed outrageous.

   Both were elated to have swollen bellies, with all the problems such a
belly brings the average woman, to say nothing of women in their situation.
Both were content to have a "party" with me once or twice a month, to fill
the gap, so to speak, that their usual relationship couldn't fill - at
least physically.  It was too early to tell if two kids would satisfy them
or not, but it was plain that they had a father on tap should his services
be needed again.  At the time I made my notes on this couple, there was
every indication that, barring some unforeseen complication, I would be
"the man" in their lives for years to come.

   But, of course, something unforeseen did happen.  The earth wasn't
finished shaking us up with its little twists and jerks.  Life is
complicated.  That's what makes life interesting sometimes.

   One of those complications is that you'll have to wait to find out what
happened, because that's in another narrative in this series.
   
