Message-ID: <22710asstr$950080205@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <00ba01bf7259$d7f867e0$2201a8c0@sromeo> From: "SJR" X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.00.2615.200 Subject: {ASSM} ME AND MARTHA JANE '99 (m/FF,teen) MJANE18.TXT Date: Wed, 9 Feb 2000 02:10:05 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, apuleius, IceAltar, kelly, Lambchop, newsman SJR <1st attachment, "MJANE18.TXT" begin> **** WARNING **** WARNING **** WARNING **** THIS DOCUMENT IS A SEXUALLY GRAPHIC STORY ABOUT AN INTENSE SEXUAL, EMOTIONAL AND INTELLECTUAL RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN A TEENAGE GIRL AND A YOUNG BOY AND THE COURSE OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP OVER A PERIOD OF 10 YEARS. IT IS A DRAMATIZATION ABOUT REAL PEOPLE AND THEIR CON- FLICT WITH SOCIAL EXPECTATIONS. IF THIS SUBJECTS OFFENDS YOU OR IF SEXUAL LANGUAGE UPSETS YOU, OR IF YOU DON'T WANT THIS MATERIAL SEEN BY UNDER-18 OR OTHERWISE UNQUALIFIED PERSONS, DELETE THIS DOCUMENT. THIS DOCUMENT IS COPYRIGHTED 1994, 1999 BY SJR. SO--HEY, YOU CAN COPY IT BUT YOU CAN'T CHANGE IT OR SELL IT UNLESS I SAY SO. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- THE ADVENTURES OF ME AND MARTHA JANE by S.J.R. PART 18A: She woke up at about five-thirty in the morning. Half sleep, I heard her close the bedroom door and then I heard the shower running in the kitchen. I awoke again a few minutes later and smelled coffee. Then I went off again, dreaming about Martha. She was Martha Jane in the Lauderdale Courts and she was helping her mother do something in their bedroom, except the mother looked more and more like an older version of Ronnie. I opened my eyes. I was lying on my back. Martha lay with her face resting on my chest and looking toward the bedroom window. I looked around. The clock on the night table said seven-fifteen. Martha raised her head and propped herself on her elbows. "Good morning," she whispered. She swept my hair away from my face with a warm hand. She said, "You have a very hard early morning erection." "Yeah, I know." "Tell me something." "What?" "How do you start out so little and get so big?" I smacked my dry lips together. "Years of practice and self- denial. And I probably have to go to the bathroom." "Now?" "Soon." She played with my chin, running a finger round and round. "Is it difficult for you to cum, when you have to go to the bathroom?" "Never tried it. But it's difficult to go to the bathroom when it's that hard." "Oh, that's right. You have to bend it down, don't you?" I let my head drop back to the pillow. "Oooh. I have to get up and get my run in the park." "No." "Sure. Before it gets too hot out there." "No." She coiled her arms around my head and lifted herself over me and settled onto my chest and held her face against mine. "Take the day off. You never take a day off, you're worse than I am." "I took Wednesday off." "Take today, too. Stay here with me." I put my arms around her. "Well, I don't wanna start any bad habits." She said sleepily, "It doesn't matter. I've already ruined you. This is the first day in a long time when I have nothing, absolutely nothing to do. Except lie around and be ruined and ruin you even more. Ronnie has a date tonight. We have the whole day. Stay here with me. Stay here until you can't stand me anymore. Stay until you can't bear to touch me or hear the sound of my voice. Stay until you're sick of me, sick of the sight of me. Stay until you hate me. Until you can't stay any longer and you have to get out, you have to fight your way out so you can be free..." I put a finger under her chin to raise her head, and she resisted, but I pushed her head up anyway. I asked, "Hey, what are you talking about?" She looked out the window, her face in a mild pout, and she made a fist of her hands on my chest and leaned on it. She seemed to want to speak. But her lips held firm, as if she were locking the words be- hind them. She shook her head no, weakly, and lowered her eyes. Then she turned her face away from me and lowered her cheek to my chest again. I stroked her back. "What's the matter?" "Nothing." "What's the matter?" "No." I waited. "What's the matter?" She said quietly, "Remember what you said last night? When I came home?" "Yes." "Whatever happens." I sighed. I say I love you, finally, and I'm in trouble. I'm in trouble if I say it, I'm in trouble if I don't. I said defensively, "I didn't say I'd never get pissed off. I said I love you anyway." She waited, thinking. She said, "Do you mean that?" "Look, what do I have to do?" She laughed, softly, suddenly, against my chest, and she hugged me. She said, "Take the day off." "Oh, all right." "Go take a shower. You're sweaty already. And come back in here and take a nap with me. I got up too early." After I went to the bathroom and showered I piddled around the kitchen making my super-duper brewer's yeast drink. She called from the bedroom. "Steevennn." "What?" "What are you doing in there?" "Making my drink." "Come on in here and be lazy with me." "In a minute, please. I'm hungry." I mixed and stirred, and just as I was taking my first gulp she called from the bedroom, "Minute's up." "I'm comin', arready." "'Arready'? You're sounding like a New Yorker, arready." "Be there in a minute." I finished my drink, and in the bedroom I found her curled up on the bed, wearing the bath towel she had worn after her shower. She had a sleepy smile on her face. She pointed listlessly toward the bedroom window. "Could you turn on the fan, please?" "Yes, Miss Martha." "I'm so lazy. I'm going to be lazy and messy and stupid all day. All day. No phones, no papers, no thinking. Vacation only. I'm going to waste a Friday, waste it completely." I pointed the little Hunter fan at her. I said, getting back into bed behind her, "I'll believe it when I see it." She pulled the bath towel off her and pitched it onto the floor, and then she reached behind her with one arm, searching for me. "C'mere. Next to me." "I am next to you." "Closer." I snuggled into her back. We were two naked spoons. She said, playing, "Closer." "I can't get any closer." "Try." I snuggled as close as I could without pushing her away, her firm butt in my lap and my dick sneaking between her legs, my arms around her. She hugged my arms to her breasts and she closed her eyes and smiled, snuggling into her pillow. "Better," she said, contented. "Still sleepy?" "Yes." "Sleep, then. Let's nap." I dozed on and off. Martha lay like a sleeping doll, all curled up along my front, her fine, mussed, light auburn hair highlighted in the glow from the window, blonde hairlets gleaming. I had one arm draped around her, my elbow resting in the deep valley between her slim waist and the high rise of her rounded hip. I heard the rush hour outside start and then subside. People walked past the build- ing. Then I went into a deeper sleep for about an hour, dreaming about Martha weeks ago in the coffee shop near Columbia with her coworkers, and they were all sitting as if at attention, listening to her, and she was reading instructions from a paper. When I opened my eyes again neither Martha nor I had moved. I lifted my head and looked past her at the clock. It was nearly ten in the morning. I let my head rest near hers again, and Martha stirred and glanced at the clock, craning her neck back, and she closed her eyes and lay as if still snoozing. I said, "Hi." "Hi,' she whispered, hugging my arms into her again, letting my captured hand rest on one of her nipples. I lay still against her, wondering if I could drift off again. She kept her eyes closed. She said, "You're hard again." "Mm-hm." "You get an erection every time you sleep?" "No. Just with you." She smiled. "You say that to everybody." "Not to guys." She didn't say anything or move for a moment, her eyes closed as if she wanted to continue napping, so I closed my eyes and rested a- gainst her. After a minute she extended a hand below her crotch and reached underneath to straighten my cock and nestle it along her slit. She held my cock between her thighs and squeezed them together. "Mm," she said. In a moment she began running a finger up and down the half of my cock that stuck out between her legs. This went on for a while, her eyes closed as we lolled on the warm mattress, and then she used a couple of fingers to squeeze my cock and then she smeared the precum onto my tip and made circles with her fingers. My cock throbbed pleasurably. She whispered, "Touch me." I loosed one of my captured arms from her bosom and reached around her hips to run my finger up and down her slit. She uncurled her legs a little, lifting one and hunching her hips forward a little, and then she closed her legs around my cock again, starting to pull on me slowly, pulling and pulling and then just holding and squeezing, and then pulling, and my finger found her clit and she sighed when I began to circle it. For a long time we played that way, and then she lifted one leg a little and snuggled her tush into me and angled my cock into her cunt, and I slid in, slowly, into the snug, cream-coated, marshmallow glove of her. Her cunt sucked me into her and the strong, thick outer lips gripped me by the root. We lay like that, not moving, while I played with her clit. After a while I would move in and out of her now and then, staying still and deep in her most of the time, and we went on for nearly twenty minutes that way until I started throbbing in her. With her eyes still closed as if dozing, she said, "Cum." "You're not there yet." "No, just cum when you want to." I said, "Soon." I started moving in and out slowly. She said, "I've never done it like this." "Me neither." "I'll be all right. I have all day. All day. I'm concentrating on feeling you in me. I want to feel the cum. I want to feel the spurts when I'm not thinking, not thinking about anything." I went in and out a few times, not straining, and I said, "Touch it. I'm almost there. Touch my dick where it's going in." She put two fingers along the sides of my root, and she lay there waiting with closed eyes while my orgasm slowly approached. I couldn't concentrate on fingering her clit and fucking at the same time, it was getting too good, but I kept my finger on her clit. Then the early throbs began, and she whispered, "Mm-hm." Then the warning pulses accelerated and she waited with closed, lazy eyes and whisp- ered, "C'mon. C'mon. Yes. Mm, yes." Then I began panting quickly and the tired, thin squirts started, and she smiled and murmured, pleased, "Mmmm. Is it good?" "Uh! Yeah!" "Tell me." "'T's good! Ah!" "Mm, the sounds you make when y-- Oh!" She giggled. "Steven, your whole body jerked." "Yeah. Ah! Mmmmm." "Just stay there, now. Stay there." She hugged my free arm tighter to her breasts, which were now moist and warm. "Stay just like that and rest." I stopped, sweat breaking out all over me, post-orgasmic throbs pulsing weakly in the slick tunnel. I caught my breath for a minute. It wasn't that momentous a fuck, but it was, after all, with Martha. I felt I had scaled the heights and then fell on my face. She kissed my arm that was nestled in her bosom. She said, "I like it when you're cumming and you tell me it's good." "It did. It always feels good with you." "I like it when you get that excited. And I figure it must be especially good when you get excited enough to say so, because you hardly ever talk when you have sex." "It's not easy to talk when I'm doing all that work and trying to breath." "I know. That's why it's so exciting when you tell me." I started fingering her clit again, and it took another several minutes, but eventually the nutty, sweaty-sweet, warm milk aroma steamed from her and she whispered fervently, "It's gonna be good! It's gonna be good!" Then she drew in her legs a little and her head dropped downward, as if she were trying to double up, and she hugged my free arm to her mouth and moaning against it while she came for a long, long time, her cunt contracting and squeezing my soft cock out of her, and then her head fell back on the pillow, and she lay with her eyes closed, panting and looking satisfied as hell while I kissed her face and shoulders. She whispered, "Put your finger in me." I did. She was still snug from cumming but she was slick with both of us and my finger slid right in. Her cunt hugged my finger. She grinned and said, "God. A whole day off." After a couple of minutes I said, "Don't you have to go to the bathroom? She frowned. "Oh, it's...hon, it's pretty safe right now." "Martha." She grumbled, "Oh, all right. Let's just wait a minute. I don't want to move." She hugged both my arms to her bosom again, tightly, and she nestled her hips closer to my lap. And strangely, she held one of my hands to her mouth and she kissed it and then clasped it to her cheek and she said, her voice inexplicably cheerless, "I don't want to move yet. Not yet. Not just yet." Within a few minutes she dozed off again, holding my arms tightly against her, and I made her wake up. She got out of bed groggily and wrapped the bath towel around her and stumbled to the bathroom. I'd had extremely satisfying sex with either Martha or Ronnie or both every day for the past four days. I'd live through two emotion- ally wrenching weeks. I was tired! I dozed off again while Martha was in the bathroom, wondering if she had been adding booze or some- thing into her morning coffee. Half sleep, I heard her take another shower in the kitchen. Then I smelled coffee again. After several minutes she came into the bedroom in a new, pale pink towel, and she had two cups of coffee with her. She sat on the edge of the bed and handed me one. I rose, drowsy, and I said, "I'm not supposed to drink this." "Just today. Please. Try not to spill it on the bed." I took the cup and sipped while she brought her legs onto the bed and sat up, her legs folded under her. I said, "Are we supposed to go somewhere that I forgot about?" "No." She sipped and sipped again. "We may as well wake up, because I'd putter around and wake you up anyway." She sipped again. "Hurry and finish that, so I can get these cups out of here." I took another small sip, reluctantly. I said, "Wow. You make it strong." She said nothing, but watched me over the top of her cup as she sipped. I said, "This is too hot to drink fast." She said, "Want me to put an ice cube in it?" I held the cup out to her, "Could you?" She took my cup, looking at me, tilting her head and frowning, curious and surprised. "Did you see what you just did?" I smiled sleepily at her. "No. Did you?" "You did it again!" "What?" She laughed, beside herself, still looking at me. "Why, you little sophisticate. So blas , aren't you? Your hands behind your head, hair on your legs and chest, just sitting there looking like the gorgeous guy you're growing up to be, and you're already doing it." I insisted, "Doing what?" She imitated me, as if handing my cup to someone. "'Oh, yes! *Could* you? On the rocks, please. One rock.' Look at you, I was afraid you'd be one of those educated, irritable, ambitious types that throws women around like paper clips." She handed me her own coffee cup, and kept mine, and scooted backward on the bed, her voice mildly scornful. "Oh, not you. You're not going to be a ladies' man, hon, *you*'re gonna be a snob. You're going make your women think you're doing all the work, then you're going to run them to death catering to you." I said defensively, "I don't want to be catered to." "Of course not! You're so independent. That's why people *insist* on catering to you in so many subtle ways. It makes them feel necessary." I sighed, leaning back limply. "All this for an ice cube? It's probably cool enough to drink by now." "What a snob." She slithered off the bed, keeping the big towel around her torso and hips, and I watched her hurry off, watched that gentle swing of her hips and the dancer-like, graceful gait. No wonder the only thing most men could see of Martha was her body. I heard her quickly crack open an ice tray, saying to herself, "Passive aggressive. Why didn't I *see* that? Why didn't Martha *see* that?" I heard an ice cube being plunked into the coffee cup, and hasty stirring, then she closed the refrigerator. She returned, slid onto the bed, took her cup, gave me mine, and watched silently as I drank it down in three or four loud gulps. "Finished?" she asked. I handed her the cup and nodded. She hopped off the bed and placed the two cups on the dresser, and I asked, "Is there going to be an opportunity for me to ask questions about what's going on?" She said innocently, "Nothing's going on." She sat up with her legs folded under her and fluffed her wet hair with one hand. "But class can have a question period." I thought for a minute. "I just have a general question. Are you up to something?" I shrugged. "I don't have anything more specific right now." "I do." I put a hand over my eyes. "Oh, god. I'm too tired." She grinned. "No, these are easy." She hopped out of the bed, almost losing the towel, and she tightened it around her. While she stood at her dressing table collecting her cigarettes and lighter and an ash tray, she asked me, "What were you smiling about this morning?" "What?" I propped up my pillow behind my head. She sat on the bed again and she lit her cigarette, with her ashtray on her lap. I said, "You never smoke in bed." "Just today. You're here to keep me safe." She took a drag and blew it out. "I got up early this morning and showered and made break- fast, read a little, and when I came back here I got back into bed. And while I was waiting for you to wake up you were smiling and ended up with that terrific erection." "Oh." "Were you dreaming?" "Mm." "Okay, the next question is: what were you dreaming about that made you smile that?" "Uh, tryin' to remember......You." "You really expect me to believe that?" "Mm-hm." "Well...I don't." "You were in the Lauderdale Courts, in your old apartment, and you were helping Ronnie do something in the bedroom. Sewing, or some- thing. You were showing her something, and Ronnie seemed to act like your mother." "You made that up." "Nope." She paused. "You have it wrong. I'm the mother. Ronnie's my daughter." "Okay," I said, turning onto my side, "Next time I have that dream, I'll get it straight." She blew out a thin stream of smoke. "That's why Ronnie's the only female who ever kissed my nipples." I didn't say anything. What could I say to that? Martha reminded me, "You saw her do that, right? When we were together?" "Mm." "Steven, don't grunt. Talk." "Yes, I remember. That's what 'Mm' means. It means yes. It means I agree. It means --" "Okay, okay." She gave a little smirk, almost to herself, mutter- ing absently as she flicked ashes in the ash tray, "Listen to you. I'm not talking to little Steven anymore, I have to start watching myself." She went on, "Ronnie's the only female who's ever done that. I can't imagine ever letting anyone else do that. You, of course. Oh, you know what I mean." I said, patiently, purposely, "Mm." She paused again. She asked quietly, "So what did you think when you saw that?" "Think?" "About me." I sighed. Such questions were far too difficult for my young, sleepy mind. "Well...I thought it was very loving. Affectionate. Exciting, too. I thought it was nice." She paused again, holding her hand in front of her face and idly using one finger to scrape at one of her pretty, painted nails. "There's no one else that I could possibly talk to about that." "Well. If you didn't like it, why not talk to Ronnie about it? Or just stop her from doing it?" "That's not what I asked." "What did you ask?" She turned her beautiful, hazel green eyes onto me with a warning light. "Steven, this is important to me." "I understand. I do. What did you ask?" "I asked what you thought about me when you saw it." I shrugged. "I didn't think about you, y'know, not just *you*. I saw both of you. Together. I thought it was a sweet thing to do and it was very sexy." She let her head drop, bending over until her forehead touched the mattress. "Oh. The Catholic kid from Memphis didn't go into shock. Steven didn't go into shock." I said, "Actually, I don't think you and Ronnie should do that while you're on Second Avenue waiting for the bus. But I thought it was very loving. And sexy." She laughed quietly. She settled down and straightened up, and then she said slowly and seriously, her eyes on me, "Steven, do you realize how much we've shared sexually? More than most married people. I shared more of me with you than with any man, far more. Even more than with Ronnie." "I realize that." "You know more about women at fifteen than a dozen guys learn in a lifetime. But I think, you know, that you have the intelligence, the sensitivity..." She trailed off, frowning, and stopped with another long, nervous sigh. "I'm wandering again." I sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "All right. You've been making me a little nervous all morning. Maybe it's all that strong coffee you had. What is it I'm supposed to be giving back, here? I mean, what are you getting at?" "What I'm getting at is...I love Ronnie, I love her sweetness and her talent and her brains. I liked..." She gazed away, toward the window, a long breath of exasperation leaving her. For a moment she spoke as if to herself, her voice a distant murmur. "It was like it is with you. You and me. The pure, erotic pleasure of it. Forbid- den. Irresponsible. Wicked and irresponsible." She came back to earth, looking down at me. "Our experience together, you and I, is unique. And our experience with Ronnie is unique." "Yes." "Don't ever..." She looked down, thinking. I waited. She raised her head again. "No matter how much you love a woman or want her, Steven, even if you love her very, very much, don't accept her if she can't accept you sexually. Perhaps the way that you need her and please her will be different from the way you want and please me, or Ronnie. It's just our chemistry, I guess, our chemistry *together*. But if a woman can't accept you sexually, stay away from her. If you don't, you'll grow to hate her. And she'll destroy you, the way your family almost did before you got here." I looked at her, and she eyed me steadily, her face a little tense. I said reassuringly, "That choice of a woman wouldn't be at all like you. I wouldn't want her anyway." "Steven..." I broke in, firmly, "She'd be as much like you as possible." She insisted, "Steven, I won't be in Memphis. Neither will Ronnie. Damn, I wish I had some resources, I wish you were old enough and skilled enough to make the kind of money you need to stay away from there, but -- I'm trying to tell you that I think --" She stopped and took a deep breath, and flicked her ashes in the ash tray. "I'm trying to say that I think...I'm...I'm trying to say that I often think I'm very wrong, spoiling you sexually the way I have. And continuing to do it and do it --" I began, a little irritably, "Are you going to start tell -- ?" "Let me finish." She said more gently, "Let me finish. You see, the problem is that I've spoiled myself, too. And Ronnie. Because I couldn't say no. I couldn't say no to myself, to you, or to her. It was too good, it was too...tempting. Beautiful. I seriously doubt that anyone could please me as you do, and I seriously doubt that I could please anyone so freely as the way I please you. But, hon, if you were in another situation, like...like marriage, or some kind of formal, committed arrangement you'd have another party involved. They might not agree with everything you desire. They might be more pos- sessive, or squeamish about a lot of things. If you were with someone else, that would have to be part of the relationship. If you make promises, you have to keep your word. And you can't resent the other party for it. You'd have to --" She sighed and put a hand over eyes, muttering absently, "I don't know, I don't know, I can't plan things like that, but..." She took a drag and said quickly, "Let me finish, now, just --" She blew smoke. "You know, when you came here, the first day, you were supposed to be sleeping on the sofa, not sleeping in here. Ronnie and I spent a whole afternoon fixing up that sofabed in there. But when I saw how you were and who you were, it was -- it was exactly like it was when I woke up this morning. I woke up this morning and you were so strong, and fresh, and beautiful, and real, and...I let myself go, I just --" She waved a hand in the air and shook her head. "-- I just let go, and I did the thing I always do, I just...go crazy with you." She paused, and started again quickly, her voice dropping about two octaves, and it had a crack in it. And I thought to myself oh shit, here she goes! And she went on, precisely, clearly, one word at a time, her voice getting tight and wobbly, "I am trying to tell you what you told me...last night. I am trying to tell you...that..." The edges of her eyes turned red. "No matter what happens..." Her head dropped and she put her hand over her eyes. Her chin trembled, but she held back, shaking her head. She breathed deeply, getting calm. "God, I stay so logical, right to the end. Then I -- " She shook her head no, and calmed down a little more. I sat up, saying firmly, "All right, now. Come on, let me have that cigarette and stuff. Come on." I took the cigarette from her hand while she remained silent, her head lowered to her chest, one hand cupped over her eyes. I got to my feet with her smoking stuff and set it on the dressing table, and then I got back onto the bed on my knees behind her, and I held her shoulders and pulled her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her. I said, "All right, look -- This is your vacation." She said under her breath, rubbing her forehead nervously with the hand that covered her eyes. "Dammit." "No, no, we're not going to do this. No speeches. No crying. No confessions, no worry, no work. We have what we have right now. We don't know what we'll have later, or not have. We don't know any- thing about that." "I know, but I'm --" "Did you bring me to New York just so we could go through this every day?" "No." She took another deep breath and raised her face, and her arms hugged the arms that were around her. "Among other things, I brought you here to help you learn to control your emotions. I think you can see that I don't teach well by example." "Hey, you're the grown-up around here, I'm the kid. I'm the one who's supposed to be in distress half the time." She scoffed, sniffling, "Oh, you were never a kid. The war and your family made an old man out of you before you were five years old. Neither of us were ever kids. We never had a chance. And I didn't help." She was using an edge of the towel to dry her eye. "And you have to go back so soon..." "Here, wait a minute..." I held her still with one hand while I reached for the kleenex on the table near the bed and handed her one, mumbling aloud to myself, "Every time I'm nice to somebody, I guess I need to bring kleenex along." Martha laughed quietly at that, and I let her lean her back and her head against me again. I said firmly, my own voice getting a little shaky, "Now, listen, you stop this." I reached a hand around her and wagged my finger at her. As I spoke, I couldn't believe I was wagging a parental finger at Martha! "Just stop it. We're not going to spend all day doing this. I can't figure things out too well if I'm going to hang around here with you being upset. You told me to start believing. I told you I would. I told you: 'whatever happens.' Now, give me some time to get to the next step before you start going crazy on me." She gave me a pained smile, whining, "But it took you so long to get this far!" She put the kleenex to her nose and gave it a little honk. She grumbled, "Stubborn. You get me so worked up waiting for you, I fall apart when we get there." She hugged my arms to her, tightly, settling down. She said ironically, "You were so fearful when you came here. Now listen to you. I can't believe you're talking like this. "Yeah, well, you can thank Ronnie for that. She put an awful lot of time and effort into stuffing a little sense into me. And you can thank yourself." "Ronnie." Martha smiled, shaking her head. "Ronnie. Dear Ronnie. I'm so glad for Ronnie." She dabbed at her eye for the last time and pitched the wadded kleenex away. She leaned back limply, breathing out as if all of the bad stuff were leaving her at once. "Oh, god. What a crabby, sentimental bitch." "You can crab any time you want. But I think you oughtta start warning me." She rubbed my arms. "I want you to be strong, Steven. Strong on your own. Not mean. Strong." "I'm getting' there. I guess." I kissed her neck. "But you know, you're wrong about me never being a kid. I go all the way back there, every time you touch me." She complained gently, "Oh, Steven, don't -- damn you, don't keep saying things like that." She brought both my hands to her lips and kissed them. I chided her, "All this drama didn't do any good. I still love you." She whimpered, holding my hands together tightly, and she turned around and leaned away from me, smiling, and took off her towel. She lay back, her hands behind her head, and she stretched her legs out, and lay naked and open in front of me, raising her pussy provocative- ly. She said, "You didn't take a shower. Go take one. Get nice and clean and smelling like soap, and shave your face and do all that stuff. Come back here and lay down on top of me. Nekkid." I sighed, "Does class get a break sometime soon?" "Come back in here and let me hold you as tight as I can while we take another nap." The position of the beam of late afternoon sunlight that slanted through the bedroom window told me that it was about five thirty PM. The phone rang in the living room for the third time that afternoon. Martha was on top of me, my dick in her, and she was gasping after a long orgasm. She panted, "Don't answer it!" I said, "That's the third time." She said, "No! Don't answer it. I'm gonna cum again!" I said, "Martha, I can't cum any more, anyway." "I'll get you there." "If this is gonna go on all day, I'd better hold back. I won't be able to just keep cumm--" "All right," she gasped, starting to rub her clit against my shaft again. "Shh. Just let me cum, then. Let me cum again." I opened my mouth, but she covered it with hers in a long kiss that lasted until the telephone stopped ringing. A little before seven, I still hadn't climaxed. Martha lay beside me on her tummy, exhausted from her third climax on top of me. The telephone rang again. I started to sit up. Martha lifted an arm and held me down, grinning languorously. She whispered, "No." "Martha, the phone has been ringing all day." "No." "Aren't you hungry?" "You go eat. Then come back." "You know, I really think we ought to change the sheets. And take showers. We're a mess." "Mmm. Okay, guess you're right. Come on, then. Help me up." "Help you up? Who's gonna help me up?" "Well, let's help each other." We both struggled to sit up in the bed. Martha gave me a kiss and I licked one of her tits. Martha got to her feet beside the bed and stood there for a few seconds. "You're right. I'm a mess. Maybe I could use one of those drinks you make. Can I? Can you make one for both of us?" She lent me a hand getting to my feet on her side of the bed. I stretched, groaning. I looked at her as she picked her bath towel off the floor. I embraced her, holding her close, and she molded her warm, sweaty body against mine. I said, "You still feel good." "After all this? I told you, you still won't be able to stand me by the end of the day. You're already getting grouchy." "Wrong. But I am getting a little sore down there." She rested her head on my shoulder. "Me too." She kissed my neck. She whispered, "You can use your mouth. And I can use mine. I can make my mouth nice and soft for you. I like my making my mouth wet and soft when you're hard. I could do it really slow so you c--" Someone knocked at the door. Martha groaned. "Oh, no. Who the heck could that be?" From her front door we heard Ronnie call softly, "Martha? Steven?" She knocked again. Martha called out, "Hold on, Ronnie! Be right there." She wrapped the towel around herself and started for the living room. I ran into the bathroom and grabbed one of Martha's thin bathrobes off the hook on the door and stood in the hall, facing the front door as Martha opened it. Ronnie came in, wearing a skirt and heels and makeup, complaining, "Martha, you're here? What's the matter, is your phone on the fritz or have you been gone all day? I called three --" She gaped at Martha and the pink towel, and Martha grinned and blushed and hid her face behind her hand, her auburn hair a wild mop on her head. Then Ronnie looked at me, still gaping, and she frowned and put a hand on one hip. She said wryly, "Don't tell me." "Ronnie," Martha said, still blushing, closing the door. "I've been...we've been doin' it." Ronnie said, "I called you guys three times! Where've you been?" "Well..." Martha brushed hair from her face. "We've been here." I cleared my throat and walked across the living room toward the kitchen. "'Scuze me, I have to make something to eat. I'm having stomach cramps from hunger." Ronnie said, "It's so hot in here. It smells like you've been doing it all day, you're both so sweaty." "Well," Martha began, smiling. She smoothed back her hair again, and glanced at Ronnie, and blushed again, like a teenager. Ronnie said dryly, "I'll be damn. And you talk about me on the beach." Ronnie sighed and started for the door. "Well, I wanted to call Steven about something, so I thought I'd check before I left, in case your phone was just dead again, but -- " She gave Martha a smirk. "You look ridiculous. I thought only Steven blushed like that." Martha said, "Wanna stay here?" I thought: Oh, shit, I'm already worn out. I almost dropped my jar of brewer's yeast. Ronnie said, "I have a date in ten minutes." "He won't mind." "Martha, I can't do that to him. What is up, woman? You look crazy. Steven, you both look crazy." She glanced around. "You two smokin' dope in here?" Martha said, "Ronnie, I owe you a favor." "For what? Come on, I gotta get goin'. He'll show up in a min- ute, and I can see the stupid look on my own face when I think about what I was looking at just before he got here." "Come up after your date. Stay here." "After?" She looked at Martha. She looked at me, then back at Martha. Martha said, "If you don't get back too late." Ronnie shook her head ruefully. "All right, all right, let me get outta here." She put her hand on the front door knob. "I mean, I don't know what this guy has on his mind -- Well, I can *guess* what's on his mind, but -- Oh, Ronnie, shut up and go downstairs." She went out the door, peeking back in to say, "See you later. Midnight, or something. Okay?" Martha closed the door behind Ronnie and locked it. She said to me as she walked to the shower, "Steven, I hope you don't mind." She let the towel drop to the floor and stepped into the stall. "I wanted her with us, just tonight." I shrugged, stirring my super-duper protein shake. "Okay with me, but...I am kinda sore, you know." She turned on the water and extended a hand inside to test the temperature, smiling back at me. "I'll be very careful. Anyway, we can just talk. We have all weekend." I mumbled to myself, "Maybe I need more than one of these drinks." She said from under the pouring water, "Make one for me, too." "You know, you're not gonna like this stuff." "Well, make one. I'll try it. Maybe it'll wake me up." She turned toward me under the spray. "You look cute in my robe." "Not as cute as you do." I took a couple of swigs of my drink and set it on the kitchen counter and dropped the robe off me and stepped into the stall with Martha. I draped my arms around her waist. I said, "Martha, you're -- " I stopped, looking at her, feeling her tight waist in my hands. She grabbed the soap off the plastic shelf hanging from the shower spout and smiled at me playfully. "I'm what?" "You're the most beautiful, sweetest, kindest, most passionate, sexiest, smartest --" "Want me to wash your cock?" "No! No soap. I'll do it. Soap will really irritate it." "I know. I'm sore, too, a little." She bent her knees, opening her legs a little to swab soap around her groin. I said, "Anyway, you've already made me crazy." "Yes? How crazy?" "Very crazy." She eyed me mischievously, water running down her face. "How very crazy?" "Very, very crazy." Rubbing the bar of soap in her hands, she grinned at me, a scrunchy, girlish grin. She whispered, "Good." She soaped my chest while I soaped hers. She said, her voice lowering, "I don't know if Ronnie told you, but when I first met her I was running around with her and her Beat crowd...Did she tell you?" "This sounds like this is supposed to be a really big secret that the faculty at Columbia isn't supposed to know about." "Oh, no, they're all crazy, too. Really crazy. They're crazier than either of us." I let my fingers gently soap her nipples. "Do you feel really, really, really crazy?" Her eyes darkened sensuously. She put her lips near mine. Water sprayed all over us. She whispered, "Yes." I said, "I like washing your nipples." She got her hands soapy again and watched my lips. She put her soapy fingers on my nipples and squeezed. "I like washing yours, too." She made bigger slick circles on me. "I like washing your titties." "Me too." I began soaping around and around on her breasts. She smiled. "Wash my titties, hon." "You're beautiful, Martha." Her gaze seemed to dissolve into mine. "Steven, you've so seldom let yourself say that. The way you said it just now. I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever tell me what you really think and let yourself feel it when you say it. And just feel. You're taking me by urprise, you know, it's all coming out of you at once." She gave a little laugh. "I'll have to get used to this." "You're lovely. You're really lovely." Her eyes were getting a little glassy. Her hands moved lower, lower. "Want me to wash your navel?" "Yeah. Can I wash yours?" "Yes." She rubbed soap around my navel, and I did the same to hers. She said, "Does that tickle?" "Not the way you're doing it." "Wet and slippery, like that?" "Yeah, that's good." Her hands went lower. I said, "Watch out, now. It's sore, right there where it comes out of my tummy." "I'll be careful." She soaped her hands. She watched my eyes and I watched hers. She said, "Is the tip sore?" "No." With two fingers, she squeezed and caressed my glans. "You get so hard, but the tip's so soft and spongy." I gulped. "I like washing your clit." My fingers stroked her slit and found her nub. While she tweaked my tip she whispered, "Yes. Oh." "Ahhh." "Steven." She swallowed hard. "Remember how we...used to be in the Courts? A long time ago? In the Courts?" "Yes. Nasty." "Yes. Mmm. Do you want to do that?. I want to look at that picture of us. Do you want to? Do you want to look at it and remem- ber and...be that way again?" Yes." "Good." Her eyes closed for a moment. "Oh, Steven. That feels so good." "Martha...you're...it's getting me crazy." "No. We started out that way. We were always like this. Both of us. We were born this way." We were in the shower until we used all the hot water. I finished my protein drink. Martha could only handle a quarter of hers, so I finished it for her and she ate some leftover salad. She smoked cigarettes and ate and looked at the picture of us taken in the Lauderdale Courts, and we talked about some of our memories. We changed the sheets on the bed. We knelt by the bedroom window and watched people going by in the dark street for a while. We lit candles all over the apartment. We got into bed naked and I lay on top of her and we went to sleep that way. After an hour's nap we began touching and kissing, and whispering, whispering our words, inflaming our minds with the words and the memories. We were both too tired to have intercourse or to have orgasms. But we couldn't stop. Neither of us could let go of it. PART 18B: It was a little after eleven Friday night. Martha lay atop me, her hips over my face, her head over my cock. She ran her tongue around my glans, slowly, around and around, and I licked her tush and licked downward along the round muscles and onto the back of her thighs and then toward her pussy and along the rim of her slit, up and down, and she moaned, "Ahh. Steven." Her mouth enclosed my tip, and then slid down, down. I sighed hotly, "God. Martha." Her mouth moved up and then off me, and she said, "Mmmm. Good?" "Yes!" We had been doing that for almost half an hour, licking, sucking, tempting lazily without peaking. I would lick Martha's outer lips and slither my tongue around it, avoiding her clit, and she licked and licked me everywhere, now and then tantalizing me with a single, slow suck, and then licking again. I stuck out my tongue and made slow licks up her slit, again, again, again. "Oh, Steven! Oh." I sucked her clit. "Ah! Oh god." The phone rang in the living room. Martha groaned, her head dropping to my thigh. "It can't be her." I let my head fall back to the pillow. "Maybe it is." "Oh, well..." I sat up. Martha rolled off me with a moan. I jumped from the bed and hurried into the living room, clumsily bumping against walls and door frames. Still breathless, I picked up the phone. "Hello?" Ronnie said, "What the hell are two doing up there?" I glanced at the clock on the table by the door. "It's only eleven fifteen. Where are you?" "I'm home." "Martha says to come on up." "Sure you two don't wanna be alone?" "She says she wants you to come up. I want you to come up." "What's up?" I looked down at my hard cock poking into the air. I felt like a giddy, lascivious pig. I was trying to think up something clever to say when Ronnie answered her own question. "Are you two still at it?" "We're waiting for you." "God. All right. Be right there." "Good." Ronnie hung up. I started across the dimly lighted living room, pausing to check the candle on the table by the door. I felt blood rush out of my head, making me dizzy. I'd been in bed too long. My knees were creaky. I wanted more. Martha called weakly from the bedroom. "Steven?" "Yes." "Where is she?" "She's coming up," "Unlock the door for her. Hon, can you bring a glass of water?" "Okay." I released the lock on the front door and went to the kitchen and got a glass from the overhead cabinet and turned on the spigot. I waited for the glass to fill, my head back, neck aching, still catch- ing my breath, thinking: God I want more, I want more of that woman, more. More. Back to the candlighted bedroom, carrying a tall glass of water. Martha lay face down, splayed across the bed, one arm hanging off the edge. I stood by the edge of the bed. Her arm lifted weakly, and she touched my leg. I said, "Water." "Good." She sat up, one leg folded in front of her. She brushed hair from her face. She was breathless, looking tiredly frenzied, but beautiful. "My mouth is so dry." She took the glass. While she drank I walked around the bed and got in on the other side, leaning back against the headboard. Martha put the glass on her night table and sighed wearily, sweep- ing her hair back on both sides, and she looked at me and laughed, embarrassed. "Steven. My god." I breathed a laugh of my own. "Yes." She crawled toward the headboard and sat beside me. She leaned back, her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open. "Oooh, what *are* we doing?" "I don't care." She gave another weak, tired, happy laugh. "Oh, I don't either. Not anymore. I can't control myself any more." She sighed again, murmuring dreamily, "Everyone thinks I'm so disciplined, so competent and responsible. I don't care. I can't change the world anymore. I don't want to anymore. I don't even want to have an orgasm. I just want to stay here. Like this." I heard the front door click and then creak open, then close, then someone slowly crossing the room in heels. Martha and I both waited, sitting against the headboard and looking at the bedroom doorway. Ronnie appeared, still dressed in her skirt, blouse and heels. She saw us and leaned against the door frame, her head wagging slowly, smiling ruefully, one palm against her cheek. She looked at us. She breathed, "Good lord." Martha and I chuckled. Martha said, "Come on in." Ronnie sauntered slowly into the room, her head still wagging. "Have you two really been here all day?" "Yes," Martha said, grinning at her. "You look like it, too." With one hand Ronnie leaned against the wall, slipping her heels off with one foot and then the other. "You look like you've been mating in your cage all day like two horny gerbils." Martha said. "You're a little early. What happened?" "Oh, nothing. It was okay. I think the guy's married." Martha asked, "This is the one you met at the party?" Ronnie stood at the end of the bed, unbuttoning her blouse. "No. Somebody else. Nice guy, though." I asked, "What makes you think he's married?" "He won't give me his phone number. He gives me his office number." Martha said, "Uh-oh. Ronnie..." "Yeah. Eh, it's all right. He's nice. He hasn't tried anything. I think he just wants a friend to go out with." Ronnie looked at Martha with a gentle, amused smirk while she undid the buttons on her sleeves. "Martha, you look like you did the night you partook of the weed." "Oh, I never smoked that stuff." "Sure. Remember?" "It's not really true. And don't tell Steven that story." "Steven, Martha smoked this stuff one night, long time ago, at a party in a coffee house. She had no idea what this stuff was, and why she didn't is a mystery, because the guy sitting at the table sat there and rolled the thing right in front of us. You know, it was just a whole group there. Dropouts. Poets. Some people from Colum- bia." Ronnie removed her blouse and draped it across the back of the chair in front of the dressing table. "I didn't smoke it, Ronnie." While she removed her earrings she said, "One puff. She had one puff. And the room was full of it, too, the air was loaded with it. Down in the Village. You know, a weird, angry poet hangout." She dropped her earrings on the dressing table. She unzipped her skirt. "Personally, I can't even stand the odor of that stuff, it makes me want to throw up." She pulled her skirt down and off, and then pulled the straps of her slip off her shoulders and pulled her slip down and off, still smiling at Martha. "But Martha has one little puff, and she wanders all over the room looking as if she were in dreamland. She had the silliest damn look on her face you ever saw. From one puff." I glanced at Martha. She was smiling, head down, blushing. Ronnie reached down to unhook her hose. "You have the same silly smile on your face right now. Made me think you'd gone and done it again." Martha said quietly, "No. Steven and I were getting dark." "Mmm." Ronnie lifted a foot onto the end of the bed and rolled down her hose. I was getting hard watching her. "Getting dark, huh?" She glanced at me. "Getting dark?" I nodded, smiling. Ronnie murmured to herself, lifting the other foot onto the bed and rolling down the hose, "Martha getting dark. Well, now..." She laid her hosiery across the chair and a sly little smile was on her face as she turned to look at us again. "Well." She unhooked her bra and daintily dropped it behind her. The contours of her little tits glimmered in the candlelight. "Martha, you look like you've snapped. Steven does too. You both have these looks on your faces. You both look positively..." She unhooked her garter belt from behind and dropped it on the chair, then she slipped her panties halfway down and bent to pull them over her feet, and she stood at the end of the bed, trim and naked. She gave a dry little laugh, brushing hair from her face. "You both just look strange." Martha smiled at her. "Strange?" "I don't know, you just --" Ronnie put one knee on the bed. She said laughingly, "You both just look so strange." "What's the matter?" "Oh, nothing." She settled onto the bed in front of us, her legs folded under her. "I feel like I just walked into the middle of the movie or something." She indicated Martha's cigarettes on the night table. "Can I have one?" Martha fetched a cigarette and the lighter. "Sure." Ronnie said, "I left mine downstairs." She lit up and handed Martha the lighter. "Better give me that ash tray." Martha fetched the ash tray and Ronnie put it on the mattress near her knees and she glanced around. "Well, I see you didn't wreck any furniture yet." I said, "We changed the sheets and everything." "Changed the sheets? Well. Then Martha hasn't completely snapped. Not completely." She squeezed my knee. "Hi." I said, "Hi, Ronnie." Ronnie looked down to flick her ashes, and she looked up at Martha, and Martha and Ronnie gave each other that secretive glance again, and Martha whispered to her, "Hi." Ronnie sniggered. "Martha, you're nuts. I told you, get out of Columbia, that job's making you very, very peculiar." "It's not that. It's just been very nice today with Steven." Martha rested her arms behind her head. "Very dark." Ronnie said, "Well, something's up. You don't usually call it dark. I'm the one who always calls it dark. You always call it something else, not dark. You like more graphic words from your puritanical Southern past." "I know." "You never called it dark before." "I know," Martha said again, looking at Ronnie. Ronnie said, "But dark is...different." Martha repeated, softly, "I know,". I said, "What are you two talking about?" Ronnie chuckled. "It's our special language, see. I call it dark. Martha calls it something else. Wicked. But they're differ- ent." "How?" Ronnie thought momentarily, her eyes on mine. "Wicked is more physical. Earthy. Hot. Dark is romantic. Sublime. More of an idea than an act. More spontaneous. It depends on your mood. It's a different mood altogether." She glanced at Martha. "I tend to be dark. Martha tends to be wicked." She glanced at Martha again and she smiled. She crushed out her cigarette and got off the bed and smiled, carrying the ash tray to the night table. She said, "Right now Martha just looks wicked." She stood by the bed and raised her arms, sweeping back her wavy hair. I looked at her naked body, her breasts spreading with her raised arms and the little nipples like currants. The bottom of her soft patch near her slit glistened with tiny pearls of light from the candle. Martha said, "Stay with us tonight." "What? You did this all day, and now all night?" Martha laughed softly. "No, we'll sleep too. Sleep with us. Steven has a week, Ronnie. We have a week." Ronnie said quietly, unsmiling. "I know. So that's it." I said to Ronnie, "Wanna spend the night? We missed you today." Ronnie glanced at me, smiling. "I'll bet you did." Martha said, "Ronnie?" Ronnie said, "Well, god, it's already nearly midnight." She shrugged. "Sure. Lemme go to the bathroom." She turned and on her way out of the room she said, "Why not? She's crazy, he's crazy, I'm crazy. We're all crazy." She went to the bathroom, then Martha went, and then I went, and all of us took a quick, cooling shower in the kitchen and stumbled over each other in the little stall, and then we all got into bed together, About half an hour later, I was licking Ronnie's pussy while she hovered over me, her mouth moving in small circles on the tip of my dick. Martha lay on her tummy beside us. Martha said, "Now, careful, he has that sore spot." "Mm," Ronnie said, and she slid her mouth down about three quart- ers of my length. I moaned, my mouth against her cunt. "Nnnh. Oh. Ah!" It was the first time she had put her mouth around me in several minutes. Martha had instructed her in what we'd been doing before Ronnie's arrival. Martha told her, "Now just hold him, Ronnie. Hold him right there." I took a couple of long breaths and then licked Ronnie's fuzz- lined, delicate slit upward, slowly. Fitfully, Ronnie whimpered with my dick in her mouth. Martha said, "Now suck up. Slow, now. Slow," and Ronnie's mouth moved upward while she whimpered, upward, very slowly, and I grit my teeth and groaned despairingly, "Ah, god," and then I started licking around the perimeter of Ronnie's slit, up and down, up and down. Ronnie let her mouth slide all the way up, tightening at my tip, and she let go of me with a wet gasp. She breathed in a heated frenzy, "Steven. Jesus! Oh. OH! C'mon, you're drivin' me crazy. Get my clit. My clit. C'mon!" I said, "Not yet." She moaned, "Oooh, god!" Martha said, "Don't torture her, Steven. She's not used to it the way we are." I put my lips around Ronnie's clit. "Ooohhhh! Yes!" I sucked. "Aaahhhhh." I sucked again. "Nnnh! Ohbaby! Oh!" Martha told Ronnie, "That sounded wicked, Ronnie. Not dark." I let go of Ronnie's clit and licked her slit and then licked toward her tush's crack, and then up and down it. Ronnie said breathlessly, "Oh, Martha, you think too much. Mmp! Steven! Oh ffffuck!" Martha chuckled, sitting up to kiss Ronnie's shoulder as Ronnie trembled high on her outstretched arms, her hips twitching over my face and her back arching while I licked her round, soft tush. Ronnie gasped, "This is what you've been doing all day? No wonder you're both so weird!" Martha said, "But it's good." "God, yes!" "Didn't you ever do it this way before?" "Not this way. Not this long." My tongue started toward her pussy again, and she tensed, waiting. She said, "God, here he goes again. Go on. Steven. Go on. Go! You're driving me crazy. Mmm. Oh. OH! Oh, c'mon, Steven, lick it. Lick it! God! Make me cum!" My tongue went straight to her clit and lathered it slowly. "Oooh, yes! MMM, yeah. Yeah!" I began licking her slit up and down. Ronnie hissed, "No! Lemme cum! Let me cum!" I gathered her clit into my lips again and started sucking and licking it. "Ooooh! Don't stop, now, don't stop! Don't stop. Oh, I've never been on the -- uhn! -- on the edge this long. I'm gonna go crazy!" Martha kissed Ronnie's temples and neck and shoulders. She whispered, "It's okay, hon. You're gonna cum, it's okay." I sucked and licked faster, the way I knew Ronnie liked it. She lowered her head, her body getting taut. She whispered seethingly, "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Faster. Yeah. Yeeaaah. Oh!... Ohgod. Oh here it comes here it comes. Oh...Oh." She held her breath for a few seconds and she gasped "Oh god!" and held her breath again and gasped loudly "Oh god!" and held her breath longer, and then she moaned hoarsely, "Oh god...," and then she started cumming, whimp- ering every few seconds. Martha kissed her cheek and crooned, "Yes, Ronnie. Oh, it's so good, yes," and Ronnie whimpered again, complete- ly helpless, "Oh!...Oh!" Then her head rose, her eyes shut tight, her mouth open as if amazed and she gushed a loud moan, "OOOH, GOD!" and her back arched for another few seconds, and then she stopped cumming, her breath leaving her with a gasped "Jesus!' and then her back slumped, and I licked her tenderly and she began to breathe again, panting, her arms trembling. She gasped, "Let me lie down, my arms are going!" She let herself roll off me, onto her side, and she rolled onto her back, gasping for air. Martha knelt beside her, her knees by Ronnie's head, and she bent to her and kissed her face and neck, and I rolled onto her, kissing her breasts. Ronnie's arms went around me, clasping tight. She moaned deliri- ously, "Oooh. Oh, Steven. Oh baby, baby, baby." I held a nipple in my mouth and pulled up, hard. "Mmmm! Ohgod! Oh stop, stop. Hold me. Hold me a minute." I put my arms around her, and she cuddled into me, wrapping one leg around my waist. She whispered, "Hold me. Hold me. Hold me. Hold me." Her breath began to slow, and she began to sigh more easily, and I kissed her hot, taut neck and Martha stroked and kissed her shoulders. Soon Ronnie let out a long, relieved sigh, her arms relaxing around me. She said in a low whisper, "Oh, my devils. My devils and my little girl. My little girl. Oh. That was terrifying." Martha asked her, "You like it that way? Ronnie?" "What the hell do you think?" She panted brokenly, wiping her forehead with one hand. "This is what you've been doing all day? No wonder you're both sore and crazy." "Not all day," Martha said, smiling lovingly at her and stroking the damp hair away from Ronnie's forehead. "Just for a while. We did other things, too." Martha extended her legs and settled onto her tummy, her face over Ronnie's. "So how was it? Was that wicked, or was it dark?" "It was both," Ronnie said, opening her eyes. She gazed at Martha for a moment, tired, her eyes seeming to contemplate something, and then she whispered "C'mere" to Martha, and Martha said, "Hm?" and Ronnie whispered "C'mere." Ronnie put a hand behind Martha's neck and lowered Martha's face closer to hers. Ronnie craned her neck up and kissed Martha's cheek and then kissed Martha's neck. And Martha looked surprised for a moment, but she closed her eyes, and she let Ronnie kiss her neck with soft, lingering kisses that ended with a long, gentle lick up Martha's neck to her chin. Ronnie pulled her head back and looked at Martha's eyes for a second, and then she looked at me. She whispered to me, "C'mere. Bring your face here." I rose on my elbows and she put her hand on the back of my neck and pulled my head down. She gave me several feathery kisses along my chin and neck, and she licked my neck, and then my chin, and she licked my mouth. Then she kissed my mouth, holding for a second, and she pulled back slightly and whispered, "I can taste me on you." She She kissed me again, and the flavor of her cunt was in both our mouths. Then Ronnie let her head fall back and she whispered. "There. That was dark." For another half hour the sultry quiet of the room was broken only by Martha's sighs and moans. I licked Martha's breasts with a loving languor that had her arching her head back, her nipples jutting high. After nearly twenty minutes of sucking her nipples and fingerfucking her, I began to lick downward, down to her navel, and I licked and kissed downward, toward her tuft and then around it. I scooted down in the bed and settled between her legs, and she leaned her head back and opened her thighs wide and raised her pussy to my mouth. But I licked around it, licked her thighs near the join of thigh and groin, and she trembled a little and breathed a soft Ahh. Ronnie lay beside her, on Martha's right, resting on an elbow, caressing Martha's shoulder, watching Martha's ecstatic face as Martha swooned her head back. I let my tongue reach out and touch Martha's slit, not moving, and Martha gave a brief "Mm" and I let my tongue stay there, not yet moving, covering her cunt. After a few seconds of this she smiled with her eyes shut tight and she whispered tremulously "Oh. Yes." Then I let my tongue slide upward along her long, smooth, wide, heated slit, and she whispered "Yes." And Ronnie smiled, watch- ing Martha's face, and her caresses roamed lower, to Martha's breast. Then I let my tongue slide up and down the thick-rimmed slit and Martha's hips tightened and then relaxed, and while my tongue slid languidly up and down and around Martha's warm orifice, Ronnie began to kiss Martha's shoulders, her lips staying on Martha's skin. Then Ronnie parted her lips and her tongue reached out and touched Martha's shoulder. Then her tongue moved lower, lower, one touch at a time, an inch and a tongue-touch at a time. While I licked Martha I watched Ronnie's tongue creep down, toward and then over Martha's breast, and as Ronnie's tongue moved toward the nipple my tongue made a circle around Martha's turgid clit, and I felt a wave of pleasure course through Martha, her cunt seeming to widen and heat up, and subtly her pussy nudged upward and Martha gasped. While my tongue circled Martha's clit, Ronnie's tongue circled Martha's nipple. The only sound was Martha's slow but tense breathing, and the whisper of Ronnie's free arm moving around the back of Martha's head and then cradling it with her hand on Martha's other shoulder. Ronnie licked and pressed the nipple and Ronnie's other hand held Martha's licked breast. Then Ronnie's lips closed on the nipple and kissed, and kissed again. My tongue stopped making circles and I pressed my tongue's tip against the bottom of Martha's clit and pressed upward, starting the slow vertical licking that Martha loved. Her hips trembled briefly. And then I looked up again and saw Ronnie's mouth kiss Martha's nipple and then close around it and suck, gently for a moment, and Martha's whole body tightened briefly. Ronnie raised her mouth, leaving Martha's swollen nipple shiny with spit, and then Ronnie kissed again, and sucked. Martha's hips rose, longing, and her clit was swollen and hot, and I kept licking lazily and then sucked once, and Martha gasped, and she gave a quiet moan. I kept licking. Again Ronnie kissed and then sucked Martha's nipple, one hand cradling Martha's sucked tit and her other hand clasping Martha's shoulder. Then Martha began holding her breath, and I knew she would be there before long, so I slowed my licking, and in response Martha's whisper was a trembling, pleasure soaked "Ah Steven." Her whole body began to tremble intermittently with her uneven breathing. Ronnie raised her head and looked at me, smiling, and she looked at Martha's face and she whispered, "It's good. It's getting good," and Martha whispered feverishly, "Yes." Ronnie brought her face closer to Martha's and whispered, "You look so beautiful when it's getting good like that. I want to watch you enjoy it. I want to watch you feel it." Martha uttered a muted whimper, a little, wordless cry, and her hips gave a small jerk, and I slowed my tongue more, feeling the vibration starting in her. Ronnie whispered, "Ah, Martha." One of Martha's hands grasped Ronnie's hand that was on Martha's shoulder, and she held Ronnie's tightly. Then Martha sighed joyfully, "Oh god it's so nice!" Ronnie whispered "Yes," and she brought her lips close to Martha's and whispered "Yes" again and then her lips touched Martha's, just touched, barely, and Martha's body trembled and tight- ened, and Ronnie whispered, "Yes" and her lips touched Martha's again. Then Martha's hips rose and hung in the air and I knew her ecstasy had arrived. I sucked the clit and licked, and Martha whispered, "Now. Oh now!" She came, frozen, and Ronnie's fingers squeezed the nipple and Martha's hand trembled grasping Ronnie other hand, and Ronnie whispered, "Yes. Yes." Martha came harder, her mouth falling open and her eyes squinting hard, and I thought my mouth could feel Martha's clit harden and pulse, and Ronnie grinned, her eyes dark, glittering, and she breathed, "Ahhh, it's good. I can tell. It's good," and Martha moaned deliriously "Yes!" Then she breathed loudly, "Ah! Ah! Uhhh! AHHH!" and Ronnie smiled and crooned "Mmmmmm" while Martha kept cumming. Then it was over and Martha's body slackened with a jerk and a long, slow easing. Martha gasped "Oh. Oh. Oh," and her grip on Ronnie's hand loosened. Ronnie bent down and sucked Martha's nipple while Martha began to settle and come back to earth. I let my mouth rise from her, parting with little kisses along her damp, hot slit and tuft, and she pulled me upward by the shoulders and I sank onto her, into the length of her hot softness, and I couldn't hold her closely enough. The three of us fell asleep for about half an hour. The short nap put my brain and body into a hazy half-dream state of love and lust. I was lying face up when I opened my eyes. Martha and Ronnie sat side by side on the bed, talking softly and smoking cigarettes. Martha smiled at me and said, "Well, welcome back, from wherever you were." She gave me a little kiss. I smiled, half drunk with tiredness and a vague need for more sex, still needing both of them but too lethargic to do much about it. I got out of bed and went to the bathroom, leaving them talking to- gether. When I returned, the candle in the bedroom had gone out, leaving the larger candle in the living room still burning. The two women still sat on the bed, in silhouette against the dim light from the bedroom window, and they were talking, crushing out their cigarettes, and as I walked back to the bed Martha was mumbling about the candle burning out and Ronnie said, "Oh, That's all right. I like this better, anyway." I crawled onto the bed in a happy daze and sank onto my face. Martha's lips skimmed across my back, and then Ronnie's smaller, thin- ner mouth was on the back of my neck. One of them whispered something and the other breathed a little laugh. Then I couldn't tell whose lips belonged to who. I rolled over, onto my back, my eyes closed, and there was a tangle of arms and legs and some soft giggles, and then I half-opened my eyes and I saw a smiling mouth in the dark above me. I reached up and held the back of the head that belonged to the lips and I buried my own mouth in the other lips, sucking love. When I let my mouth start moving down the long, warm neck I knew by feel and odor that it was Martha's, lovely Martha's. I began to grow alert. I wrapped my arms around Martha, who hovered over me and lowered her head to kiss my chest. And there were hands on my thighs, long fingers and then fingernails moving up the inside of my left thigh, and I knew those were Ronnie's. Then it was the two of them, Martha kissing, Ronnie touching. For long minutes Martha kissed my mouth, tempting me with light touches of lips on lips; and down below Ronnie teased my tip with her wet mouth until I was rock hard. But she refused to immerse me even when I began to moan and gasp. Outside, a squad car siren sounded, its roaring wail shattering the mood as the car careened down distant Second Avenue. Ronnie lifted her lips from my cock and said, "They're coming for us." And Martha's lips sputtered against mine as she tried to keep from laughing, and she turned to look down my torso at Ronnie, grinning at her and sniggering, and Ronnie looked up at me and said, mildly reproving, "That's what you get for torturing me, Steven." I took a deep breath, smiling back at her, and said, "It won't happen again. We're friends?" She gave me a smirk and said, "Sure. Right." She held my cock with one hand while she licked the tip with small, tonguing circles, and then her mouth started down. But she moved a bit at a time, a millimeter, a quarter inch. And Martha kept kissing me, so I was soon panting through my nose until Martha lifted her mouth from me to allow me to breathe, and my lungs heaved up and down. Then, with barely an inch of me in her mouth, Ronnie began swirling her tongue around my tip, and I closed my eyes. I whispered, "Oh god," and Martha began moving her lips down my neck, nipping, licking. Soon Ronnie had half of me in her and swirled her tongue again, making my head rise off the pillow and fall again as I panted. I looked down at Ronnie. She sat on folded legs, bent over, her mouth around my cock and her eyes watching me. I smiled, pleading, and said, "Ronnie. I'm sorry. I'm really very sorry." She closed her eyes, and she let her head move farther down, and I let my head fall back, relieved that she had most of me in her mouth now, stopping a little above the sore spot. Martha whispered to her, "Careful." Ronnie said "Mm-hm" with me in her mouth. Her mouth stayed where it was. And stayed. And stayed. I whimpered, "Oh, god." And not moving her mouth, she let her tongue slowly snake around the tip. I whimpered "Oh god!" again. And Martha's mouth near mine whispered, "Good?" And I said, "Oh god!" Martha breathed a soft laugh and she kissed my neck and her hand slid down my tummy and stopped at my root, her fingers parting to form a V around me down there. I felt my cock throb longingly and precum oozed out, and Ronnie's mouth clenched me a little tighter and started up again. It was slow, slow, halfway up, and inside her mouth Ronnie licked the precum and swallowed. Then her head moved down. Then she began the gentle sucking and I breathed a long, grateful Ahhh. And then she stopped, holding me deep. She tongued until I was gasping, my hips writhing and lurching. Then five or six slow sucks, then holding and tonguing. Then a few more soft sucks, and holding again, and then a few sucks and holding again. Until I almost came at the end of the third cycle and she adamantly held me deep again, unmoving. Martha sucked my nipples and her fingernails scraped my tummy. I was a panting, demanding, hissing wreck, gritting my teeth, looking down at Ronnie and rasping, "Suck it. Ronnie! Ohgod. Ronnie!" And I saw her eyes shift toward me again, and she seemed to be smiling, her mouth round my cock making the smile a taunting smirk, and she made a sound, a "Hm-hm-hmmm," laughing, and I whispered, a hard, low whisper through my teeth, "All right. Let me cum. Let me cum!" She lowered her eyes, and she held my dick with two fingers of one hand and her other hand began to firmly massage the muscle below my sack, and her mouth began to move up and down, softly, sucking, rhythmic, faster, and I dropped by head back and I groaned, a helpless little groan. Martha took her lips from my chest and began kissing my face, then my lips, but I turned my mouth away, trying to breath, and she stroked my face with her palm. Ronnie's mouth didn't stop with a few sucks, but kept going. I moaned, getting incoherent, "God it's good! It's close, so cl--! Uh! Oh it's good!" and I knew these were the moans and words I'd made the women use so many times but never expected that I would be uttering so senselessly. The pleasure inside Ronnie's mouth was insane, demolishing. For a moment I was paralyzed; the pleasure was boiling, ready to explode, ready just at the root of my cock. So, so ready. Then Ronnie's mouth went up, up, and her lips hugged my tip, sucking as her mouth left me, and I looked down at her, wondering what the fuck what she was doing. She glanced at me from the corners of her eyes, taunting, and she looked at my eight inches of suffering cock and she put her fingers around me, all the way around the wet, spitty shaft at the root, and slowly, slowly, snugly, she pulled up, up, and she grinned maniacally and grit her teeth and whispered "Ahhhh," and she watched my hips rise. She hugged my leaping cock and grit her teeth again and put her fingers around the root again and pulled up again, breathing, "Ahhh, ahhh," and she squeezed. I sighed in anguish, "Oh, shit!" My head fell back. I gasped helplessly, "Ronnie! Oh! Oh god!" And she did it again with her hand, and I felt my cock throb once, twice, again, and she squeezed and she gave a nasty "Sssss" and then "Ahhh" again. Then her tongue was on my tip, circling, circling, and her mouth went down, down. My hips rose higher, and my hands pressed into mattress and my arms trembled. And then oh god her mouth went down and she was sucking, sucking, sucking up and down, slowly, and then the orgasm oozed its torturous way up, up, on its way, on its way, and I gasped joyfully because her mouth hadn't stopped. The pleasure blossomed with glorious technicolor sparklers behind my eyelids. It started below my sack and spread through my groin, and I heard myself gasp, "Oh your mouth, your fuckin' MOUTH!" Martha's lips near my ear whispered, "Cum. Cum for us," and, yes, yes, the throbs started and Ronnie slowed her motion and I either thought or said or gasped Ahhh, there! It began and it rose lusciously and cum boiled out and Ronnie gulped and her tongue slithered around my tip and Martha chuckled and said, "Yes, baby." Spurting slow, slow again, slow, then hard against her tongue, then harder, her tongue and lips getting slick, and then the big emptying one, and Ronnie choked and paused, but only for a second, her throat giving a small "Nnk!", but her mouth kept moving, her lips loosening a little and letting liquid flow past her lips and trickle thinly over my balls. The spurts lessened and she slowed her mouth, her rough tongue curling lovingly, and her mouth was mothering, soothing, while the hard throbs subsided. I heard myself sigh, "Ah. Ah, your mouth! Ahhh. So nice, Ronnie!" I was coming back down, down from the place Ronnie's mouth had taken me. Martha stroked my cheek and kissed my ear and there was a smile in her voice as she whispered, "God, Steven, that must have been so good." And it was. It was so goddamn good I couldn't move. I let my hips sink back to the bed, not realizing until then that my midsection was nine inches in the air. Instead of a hard suck Ronnie raised her lips to my tip and sucked gently on it and she used a hand to slowly, slowly wring my cock upward, and inside her mouth she licked the last of me off the tip. Then she licked and nipped the slick tip and then slithered her mouth around it, her lips and tongue sticky, making my dick jump and making me jump. But her hand held me firmly and my jerking dick barely nudged her soft lips as the lips nursed, loved, and babied me back to normal. Martha sat up, smiling down at me. She said, "You really let yourself go that time. Again." I shook my head weakly, my eyelids drooping, and I looked down at Ronnie, her tongue tending sweetly. She raised her head and looked at the trickle of cum around my balls and pubic hair and she wiped the edge of her mouth. A short, hairlike string of cum stuck to her chin. She said, "Martha, we need kleenex," and Martha got up to go for them at the night table. Ronnie wiped her chin. She turned her eyes to mine and there was that expression of hers, that almost expressionless expresssion but with those captivating, talking eyes. She said, "There. Even." I sighed and said earnestly, "I hope so!" She smiled, looking at the dab of cum on the hand that had wiped her chin, and she glanced at me and blushed, and she wiped her chin again and ran her tongue over her lips a couple of times with a softly sticky sound and she swallowed thickly. Then her eyes found mine again and she held her eyes on me while she rose and moved her torso upward along mine. She held my face firmly in both hands and her eyes seemed to steam their way into mine. She whispered sultrily, "When you kiss me after I cum in your mouth, I always taste my dark- ness on you." She tilted her face, her lips nearing mine. She whispered softly, "Taste the darkness I took from you. Taste it." She kissed me fervently, her mouth completely covering mine, her lips and tongue tasting of cum and cock. And down below, during Ronnie's long, long kiss, Martha was dabbing at me with the tissue and then sucking me dry. I remembered what Martha had told me about Ronnie, that Ronnie what not what I'd expect. Ronnie was like nothing I could have dreamed. Her soft mouth had me feeling I was melting, melting into what she called the dark. I dissolved into both women, into the mouths and hands and cunts and hearts and odors and flavors and minds of both of them. We fell asleep a little later, with me face up. Martha lay on her tummy, her head on my chest, my arm draped around her waist. And Ronnie was on her side with her head on my shoulder, her legs curled up and one leg over mine, my arm cradling her head, one of Ronnie's arms draped over Martha's back. PART 18C: When I opened my eyes Saturday morning the sun was shining with a brightness that told me it had been daylight for hours. The little fan on the window whirred steadily, streaming air toward the bed. I glanced at the clock. Eight twenty. Martha was half on me, using my chest for a pillow. I stroked her hair. She didn't stir. I kissed her hair and caressed her shoulder. On my other side, Ronnie had turned away and slept curled on her side, her tush against my hip, my arm still cradling her head. My balls ached, empty. My heart ached, full. I sat up very, very carefully. Martha slipped off me, stirring but remained asleep on her side. I kissed her lips, her warm, clingy lips like puffy silk, cottony with sleep. I looked at her. How could she look so girlishly innocent and so devastating at the same time? There were times when I would look at her, as I did then, that made my eyes feel they were expanding to take her in. Carefully I uncurled my legs from Martha's and turned toward Ronnie. I laid my palm on Ronnie's hip. I kissed her temple and then her shoulder. She didn't move. I kissed the tight skin at the edge of her shoulder, melty flesh over bone, my lips feeling as if they touched a warm, white-chocolate coating over candy. I eased off the foot of the bed and stood up. My head swirled; it felt like a hangover without the pain. I crept into the living room. The candle there had burned down to a bumpy orange pool. In the kitchen I wanted coffee, but I feared making it would wake the women. I drank a glass of milk, then I crept into the bedroom again and quietly got my running clothes out of Martha's dresser. Outside, I jogged sluggishly toward Second Avenue, my feet leaden and my knees straining. The air was sticky and humid. By the time I reached Central Park I was sweating profusely. I broke into a run across the small meadow beside the Metropolitan, but was gasping hard when I reached the street behind the museum. As I sped across the roadway I lifted my legs higher to clear the rise of the curb and began to stumble. I let myself go into a roll into the grass beyond the road and flopped into my back. I lay there flat, panting crazily. Shit, I thought. I'm wiped out. Getting lazy again. Getting angry, flustered. It took several minutes for me to feel rested again. Along the nearby road the cyclers and joggers passed me. I gazed at the sky. It was clear beyond the limbs of the surrounding trees. Blue. I re- called the day, long ago, when I was a toddler, when I lay that way on the side of a small hill near the Big Buildings in the Lauderdale Courts, looking up at that sky and thinking that the world was an open, unlimited space, waiting for me, beckoning, promising. I remembered telling myself, then, that I would do anything, face any task to see it all, do it all. I hadn't figured on weak ankles and short wind. And the cigarettes. Why the hell didn't I just quit? I told myself: Get up, you sorry piss ant, and get to Fiore's class. It was too late for breakfast. I broke the rules again and bought a coffee at a deli on 86th Street, gulping it as I walked. I began to understand something about the New Yorkers I saw everywhere as I trudged under my own weight back to Martha's. When I hurried into the front door, Martha was in the kitchen shower. I rushed into the bedroom. Ronnie lay on her tummy, looking unconscious. I tugged off my sweaty t-shirt and got a new one out of the chest of drawers and pulled it on. I got a shirt from the closet and was standing in front of the mirror buttoning it when I saw Ronnie's reflection in the mirror. Lying face down, flat and list- less, she turned her head toward me and opened her eyes drowsily, then closed them again. Getting in more of a hurry, I tugged off my running pants and grabbed my jeans off the floor and started putting them on. As I zipped and buckled, I saw Ronnie open and close her eyes again. I said, "Good morning, Ronnie." She said with her mouth against the sheet, "Ronnie died. Come back on the third day." I chuckled, and bent down to kiss her. She raised her head and I gave her an affectionate smack on the lips. When I did, she began to turn over and started snaking an arm around my neck. But I hurried away, stepping into my loafers. "I gotta go to Fiore's." "Ah, you guys. Eat and run." I paused at the door. "Don't forget, we're going shopping with me when I get back." She had closed her eyes again. "Yeah. Right." I hurried into the kitchen. Martha had stepped from the shower and was drying off. I rushed to her and she looked at me, surprised and confused. I grabbed her around the waist and kissed her, holding her tight. She was damp and naked against me, her waist firm and narrow, and I wanted to fuck her. She kissed back, but I had to let her go. She wobbled on her feet a bit as I moved away. I rushed to the front door. "I gotta go to Fiore's. I love you." I hopped downstairs, three steps a time. My cash was running low. I wasn't broke; I had money from Memphis and from my short lived posing career. And thanks to my step-dad's and Martha's insistence, I still had money in the bank in Memphis. But during my last ten days in New York I couldn't afford Fiore's special classes without going broke. At least I'd learned enough about physical culture to get a good workout on my own. Before the class began I told Fiore that it would be my last visit. He grinned and put his arm around me. For once, I didn't fall all over myself when he slapped me on the back. "My friend, you've worked hard. You've done well. Your friend Martha tells me your spirits have much improved. You are not so shy as you were, hah? Not so worried about how you look!" "You definitely made a difference, Mister Fiore." He squinted at me. "Why you keep calling me Mister Fiore? Hah? 'Mister'? Ha-ha! It is Fiore to you, my friend, Martha's friend. Fiore!" Another slap on the back. He stood back and looked me over. "You haf a good frame, good proportions. You would make a good pro- fessional, Hah? Maybe a good instructor one day, hah? Eh, this is not work for everyone, but you could be good! And in the mean- while --" He extended his big, red, warm hand. "In the meanwhile, my friend, good luck to you." He shook my hand, shaking most of my body with it, and then he walked away quickly with two of his assistants. And I went to the class and struggled through it. My heart wasn't really in it; it was the end of the classes, the end of Fiore, and nearing the end of everything. Ronnie guided me through the shoving crowd in Bloomingdale's. In many ways the horde at the one-day sale was like the subway: nose to nose and elbow to elbow. There was female flesh and female chatter everywhere, of all sizes and ages. Ronnie stopped in the outerwear department. "Okay, what are we looking for?" "Where are the overcoats?" "Overcoats? Steven, this isn't Woolworth's. This is an expensive place, even with a sale." I said firmly, "Martha needs an overcoat." "She needs a dressy one, though. She could always wear mine, it's almost brand new." "Yeah, but what if you need to wear yours, too?" She looked at me, reluctant. "Okay. Let's look over here." On our way through the racks of clothes she led the way, winding through the squabbling shoppers, saying "Excuse me," or sometimes shouting "Excuse me!". Suddenly she stopped at a table piled with sweaters. "Oh my god, look at this." "What?" "This sweater. It's beautiful. Do I need this? Oh, how I need this." She lifted it and draped it across her front. "Wow." She fished for the price tag and found it. Her smile faded in an instant. She exclaimed, "Ninety-nine bucks! On sale? Thirty-five percent off, and it's still ninety-nine?" She dropped the sweater on the pile. "I don't need it any more. C'mon." I followed her. "You want that?" She mumbled, "Cashmere. They always do that, they make something one-of-a-kind gorgeous and make you want it, then they stick it to ya." I insisted, "You want it?" "That's what ticks me off. I need one. I have this ratty, tweedy thing. It's warm, anyway." "Hey, do you want that sweater?" "Oh, I can't afford that. Makes me so mad..." She led me a few yards farther. "Okay. Overcoats and raincoats, carcoats. And more coats. Look at 'em and weep." I glanced around. We were surrounded by hundreds of coats in disarray on the racks. A couple of women bumped against me. I asked Ronnie, "Where are the dressy ones? You have to show me what women wear. I don't know how to judge this." "Martha said you had good taste, so I'll leave it up to you. Here, take a look at these. They're fairly dressy." "I don't want fairly dressy, I want dressy." "But, honey, these won't cost that much. This is 1957, you can't buy a really dressy fifty dollar coat anymore, not a nice one." I said, unflinching, "I want dressy. Nice dressy." Ronnie sighed. "Oh, all right. Let's see..." She scanned the racks quickly, and we moved two racks over. "Here. But I'm warning you." I looked through the coats, shoving them aside on their hangers along the steel rod, one by one. "What am I looking for?" She shrugged. "Whatever catches your eye. Hope they have some- thing left in Martha's size." I found one I thought I liked. But, no, it was tan. Tan wouldn't go with everything. There was a navy blue, with a belt. I went on and on. I saw Ronnie moving away. I said, "Don't go far. I need you." She glanced back at me. "I'll be right over here." I looked and looked and looked. I noticed Ronnie at the sweaters again, and she was holding the same black cashmere sweater she had handled before. I saw her look at it, hold it away from her, put it down, look at something else, and go back to it again. Then I found the overcoat. *The* overcoat! It was wool, dark navy blue, almost black, black-buttoned, not too heavyweight, with a removable liner inside. And I knew enough to know that the interior silk lining was good stuff. I pulled it out and held it up. It was slender, soft looking. It had a luxurious look and feel to it. And it didn't weigh a ton but seemed it would be warm enough. I held up one sleeve and crunched it tightly in my hand, then let go; the fabric sprung into shape perfectly. I called to Ronnie, but she didn't hear over the noise. I called louder, "Ronnie!" She looked up and then sauntered toward me. I held the coat high by its hanger. "What about this?" She looked it over, and her eyes seemed to glow. She murmured, "Oh, Steven. Damn. It's..." She checked the collar, quickly. "But it's not her size. Phooey, I'll bet they don't have her size." She hunted through the coat rack hastily, complaining, "I don't believe it, there's a half dozen of that coat here, but..." Then she jerked out another one just like it and checked the label. She said, smil- ing, "Ah, our size. Martha's size. We both wear the same size in a coat, but Martha's shoulders are broader. Just a little broader." "Try it on." She checked the orange sale label. She said in dismay, "Steven, this thing costs a hundred and eighty bucks." I said, my voice firm, "Try it on." She looked at me, insisting, "A hundred eighty? I mean that's not so much by New York standards, but for you and me it's a disaster. One eighty, you can't afford that." "Ronnie. Veronica. My love. Can you try it on, please?" She blinked at me. "Your what?" "Well, try it on, and we'll see if that's a good size and style for her, and look for something else." "Well, all right." She looked around for a mirror. "Not a bad idea, I guess..." Ronnie led me to a mirror on a nearby wall and she removed the coat hanger and donned the coat. She looked at herself in the mirror, and she seemed unable to take her eyes off her reflection. She said, pleased, "Oh, this makes you look so tall and chic. It's so European. Looks kinda French, I think." She buttoned the coat all the way, put her hands in the pockets and turned this way and that. "Steven, you do have a great eye." She bent over, straightened up. She tried to yank the collar out of shape. Then she just stood there looking at herself in the mirror. She said quietly, "Damn." "What's the matter?" "It's gorgeous. It's...it's a...It's gorgeous. It is just goddamn gorgeous. And it'll fit her perfectly. It's gorgeous, that's all there is to it." "Okay. Let's get it." "Oh, my. Steven, dear, it's a hundred eighty." "Okay. I have the money on me." She frowned at me in the mirror. "That's money you worked for. For Memphis. For you!" I pointed my finger at her. "Ronnie, I'm buying Martha that coat." She whined feebly, "Don't argue with me." "No argument. I'm buying it." She stared at me, wagged her head a moment, and gave up. She conceded, taking it off. "All right, Steven." "You're sure it'll fit." "Oh, yeah. Exactly. We wear a lot of each other's clothes. She'll look terrific in it." She removed the coat and draped it over the coat rack. "God, feel this. This feels so nice. Now, wait. Let's check it out. Missing buttons, crooked seams. Let's take a look. My god, look at this old tag. The original price was three seventy-five. Steven, you picked a winner. From the tags, it looks like one of last year's. Nobody would know that, though." I waited patiently while she looked it over in detail. She looked and looked and looked. After a minute I complained, "What are you doing?" She said absently, "Checking it out. Surely there must be some way I can keep you from growing broke on this coat." "I don't care if I go broke. I don't buy ugly clothes. Martha needs a good coat. She needs a coat that'll do her justice. Maybe a coat she'll look good in when she looks for a decent job." "Oooh, this will do it. You know, you're gonna need a scarf with this." "So we'll get a scarf." She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye and smiled as she put the coat back on its hanger. "You'll have to pay to wrap it. It's on sale." "We'll have it wrapped." "Real go get 'em type of guy, huh?" I shrugged and blushed a little. She held the coat by its hanger and walked to me, and then grabbed my cheeks and gave them a tight squeeze, her face close to mine. "Awww." She grit her teeth playfully and whispered, "You look so good when you get steamed up." She kissed my cheek. "C'mon." She led us out of the coat department. She passed the sweaters and I stopped at the sweater table and found the one she'd looked at earlier. I called to her. "Ronnie." She turned to me. I picked up the sweater and held it toward her. "Try this on again." Her eyes widened and she seemed nettled, her mouth firmly set. She said decidedly, "Steven, no." "Come on, try it on." "No!" "Oh...Come on. Please?" She looked at me, scowling. Being so miffed seemed unlike her, but if I ever wanted an aunt to get pissed at me, I would want the aunt to be Ronnie. I held the sweater out to her. "Come on. Be a good girl and try it on, I'll buy you an ice cream cone." She smirked, her eyes still glaring. She walked to me and reached out for the sweater, and as she grabbed it on her way past me she muttered, "Ice cream. Go away." She put the sweater on and stood in front of the mirror looking at it. She buttoned it. She played with the sleeves. She had no ex- pression on her face, but I saw that her eyes were pleased. She turned left, right, walked around. She looked at the sweater and checked out the inner folds, linings, the pockets. She mumbled, "This thing is just a masterpiece. It feels so..." Then she stood still for a moment, and then sighed. Then she turned and walked past me, taking the sweater off. She grumbled, "Okay, that's enough of this. Don't do this to me. You know you can't afford this." "You need a sweater, don't you?" She folded the sweater and placed it where it had been. She said wearily, "Well..." "You need a sweater?" She said impatiently, looking at the ceiling and feigning a desperate, dramatic scene, "Yes. Yes. I confess, officer. I...need ...a...sweater. I admit it." She turned to me and asked me, "You wanna buy me a sweater, is that what you want? You're bound and determined?". I looked at her. I said softly, "I love you." She winced painfully and whined, "Oh, no wonder you drive Martha crazy! You're impossible. You won't listen." "I'm good in bed, though." She tried not to laugh. "All right. But we can get a nice sweater for half this. Less than half. Much less." "Okay. Show me." She gave a sigh of exasperation. "Come on, then." Fifteen minutes later, Ronnie had chosen a fairly nice sixty dollar, wool sweater marked down to thirty-five. And it did look very attractive on her. She insisted she was pleased. But I didn't see the same look in her eyes that I saw when she wore the other garment. And when she posed in the mirror in the new sweater and told me, "See, it looks perfect," I didn't hear it in her voice, and I didn't see "perfect" in her eyes, either. I had the distinct feeling she was being too enthusiastic, for my benefit. While she checked herself out in the mirror I asked her, "You're sure this is the one? *The* sweater?" "Why does everything have to be so perfect? It's nice, look at it. It's a very nice, light brown sweater. Great for the office. Or casual. It's right outta Redbook. You don't think it's nice?" I folded my arms. I smiled weakly. "It's nice." "You don't sound like you believe me. I thought you were getting this for me, not for you. I like this." "Not the way you liked the other one." She turned around and walked to me and she put her hands on my arms and looked into my eyes. She said frankly, firmly, "Steven, I love you. Get...this...sweater. This one. Don't you like me in this?" I said dryly, "Like you? Yeah. Wanna do it here? Nobody's watchin'." She sniggered and whispered, "Oh, shut up." She blew me a kiss and walked away, taking the sweater off. "You don't have to, if you don't want to. But I'm perfectly happy with it." I followed her. "Could Martha wear that one, too?" "Sure she could." She looked at the sweater, then back at me. "Tell you what...Why don't you make this a gift for me and Martha, both of us? Then I won't feel bad about you spending all the rest of your money on just me." "Okay. This is the one you like, this is the one we get. Where's the cashier?" "Right over there. C'mon." We got into the cashier's line, Ronnie standing next to me. I said, "You know, presents are supposed to be surprises, but you already know what yours is." "No, no, it's Martha's present too, and she hasn't seen it, so it'll be a surprise for her. Anyway, sweetheart, with your taste in clothes, I wouldn't want you to go bankrupt trying to surprise me." She looked ahead at the line, dropping her voice. "In the first place, you took me by surprise by wanting to buy me something. That was nice. That was a surprise in itself." I said, "Why won't you let me get the one you really want?" She joked, "It's not proper. I'm your Aunt Ronnie." She winked at me. "You should spend the big money on Mama Martha." I said, "I thought you were my date, not my aunt." She lowered her voice. "Shh. I wanna be your aunt. Aunt Veronica. Much more exciting fantasy. I mean, I can be in bed with a date whenever. But if I'm your aunt --" She looked around and then whispered near my ear, "I can fantasize about screwing my nephew." She smiled mischievously to herself, enjoying her little joke. I said sarcastically, "So that gives you a charge?" "Sure. It's better. It's darker. Don't you fantasize about Martha?" "Never had to." "Yeah? You two Mouseketeers have done it all, huh?" We moved up with the rest of the line. Ronnie said, "Okay, when we get up there, just have the girl put them in a plain box. We can get our own wrapping paper for less than they charge to wrap. No, wait, get separate boxes. May as well get our money's worth, the boxes are free." We fell silent for a moment. The cashier's line moved slowly. There were four customers ahead of us. I looked at Ronnie. She stood beside me, looking ahead and waiting patiently. The overcoat was flung over shoulder. Her profile wasn't at all bad, pretty and gentle. I looked at her face, her narrow nose, her soft, narrow- lipped mouth, her long eyelashes. She looked older than almost twenty-three. I thought about my crabby aunts in Memphis. Among my step-family there were younger ones, many of them quite personable and attractive. But none of them had an effect like Ronnie. Just ahead of us was a short, stooped, frail looking, elderly woman in her seventies or eighties. She carried a small raincoat over her arm, its price tag hanging down a couple of inches. Atop the little lady's head was a mop of neat gray hair that looked so dry it could have been a stage wig. She wore a small blue hat the size of a coffee saucer, with a thin blue feather in it. She was only shoulder high to me. She wore a one piece, short sleeved print dress that made her small shoulders and withered arms look as frail as the rest of her. As Ronnie and I waited silently, the old lady turned around toward us. She glanced up at Ronnie, then at me, her wrinkled, loose-jowled face frowning with impatience. And when she turned to look back she would do so by taking small steps with her little feet until she was turned completely around. After looking us over quickly, one by one, she took several small steps again and turned around in the other direction, and sighed tiredly. I glanced at Ronnie, and she glanced at me, and we both smiled, suppressing a laugh. Ronnie said, "Behave, Steven." "Yes, Auntie." She smirked. I said, "So you like this aunt fantasy, huh?" "Sure. It's kinky. Dark." "I dunno, must be something wrong with me. I don't have fantas- ies. I don't think I do. If I do, they're based on real situations." "Sure, you do. Everybody has sexual fantasies. And identity fantasies. And career fantasies. Sex isn't the only kind. But I have lots of them. Being an aunt's one of my favorites. I think it's very sexy." We stopped talking as the little old lady in front of us started turning around again. She looked at us in turn, her face so wrinkled that we couldn't tell if she frowned in confusion or annoyance as she clamped and unclamped her jaws. Then she turned around again. Ronnie put her hand over her mouth, laughing silently. I leaned near Ronnie's ear. I whispered, pointing at the old lady, "Now, *that's* an aunt." Ronnie laughed out loud once, clamping her hand over mouth quickly, then settling down. She shook her head and sighed, and then relaxed. Suddenly her eyes popped open. "Steven, we forgot the scarf!" She looked around, and then she handed me the overcoat. "Uh, look, you stay in line. I don't want us to have to get in a new line for that scarf. Here, I'll go find one lickety-split." I took the coat, and now I held both her sweater and Martha's coat. Ronnie took a few steps away from me, then hurried back. "Oh! Look, I'll try to get back fast, but if you get up there just go ahead and check these out. We'll just have to try another line if I don't get back. Okay?" "Fine." "That's a sweet boy." She rushed away. After a couple of minutes, the only customer ahead of us was the old lady. I looked around. I searched for Ronnie's wavy hair, green blouse and black skirt, but I couldn't see her, nor could I see the area where the ladies' scarves might be. Then a brilliant idea hit me. As I searched for Ronnie, my eyes kept falling on the sweater table, only a few yards away. The sweater that Ronnie wanted was still there, one sleeve hanging off the table. I saw a lady looking it over. I feared she might buy it. But she placed it back again and walked away. That sweater was still there. I turned to the customer behind me, another elderly lady. I asked politely, "Excuse me, miss, could you, uh -- would you mind? I forgot to pick up that sweater over there, it's just across the aisle." She said crankily, "And you wanna get outta line, I suppose." "Oh, just for a second. Really, it's right over there." "Yeah. Well, it's busy in here." "But it's just right there." "Yeah. Go on, I'll wait. But if my turn comes up, I'm going ahead." "Oh, no. No, I'll be right back." I dashed across the aisle, almost dropping everything I had, and I grabbed the sweater and ran back to my place in line. "Thank you." "You're lucky the line didn't move, young man." "Yes. Thank you." I waited. I kept saying in my mind to Ronnie, Don't come back yet, Don't come back yet. I looked around quickly. Ronnie was no- where to be seen. I kept saying Don't come back yet. The little lady in front of me completed her transaction. She got her purse and shopping bags together, and she stood looking around, and I kept saying in my head Please go faster Please go faster. I stepped up to the very tall, heavily set cashier. She said dully, "Next." I piled the two sweaters and the overcoat on the counter. The woman worked lethargically, constantly looking around, and she removed a tab from each label and started writing out a sales slip. She asked, "This is cash?" "Yes." I took out my wallet and counted out the traveler's checks and laid them on the counter. She was still writing on the sales form. I looked around. Ronnie wasn't in sight. I said Don't come back yet Don't come back yet. I told the sales clerk, "Could you please put the coat in one box, and the sweaters together in a separate box?" "Sure, that's what you want?" "Yes." She wrote slowly in her sales book. I said, "Uh, could you give me the boxes, I'll be glad to pack them myself. "Oh, I'll pack them. It's not necessary." "Well, I have a card. Uh, I have a card I want to put into the boxes." "Oh. Very well." She looked over the merchandise to check their size, and she pulled two folded, plain Bloomingdale's boxes from beneath the counter and slowly, slowly, unfolded them and laid them out for me. I looked around again. No Ronnie. Whew! I put the overcoat in one box. In the other box I placed the sweater Ronnie was in love with, and on top of it I draped the cheaper sweater. Then I waited, sighing with relief. The sales clerk completed the form, and she took my traveler's checks. She said, "You have to sign these." I said, "Oh. I forgot." I was signing the checks when Ronnie returned. She said, "Well, I couldn't make up my mind. Sorry I took so long. We'll let Martha pick one out herself, she'd like it better that way anyway. I should have had the coat with me so I could compare colors." I said casually, signing my name on the last check. "Well, you're right, maybe Martha should pick it out." "Yeah." She glanced at the checks as the sales clerk counted them. She said sadly, "Steven. All that hard work." "It's okay. I put it to good use." She looked at me. She reached down and gave my hand a squeeze. The sales lady rang up the sale, and she told me the total charges. The amount was over three hundred dollars. I shut my eyes, certain that Ronnie heard the total. But Ronnie was just standing and looking around, and didn't seem to hear or take notice. The sales lady said, "Thank you, sir, and I'll place your receipts in the box here..." Before I could say anything, the lady removed the top from the sweater box. I thought, Oh no! The top sweater was visible, and just below is was a portion of the expensive one. I glanced at Ronnie. She was looking away. The lady replaced the top, tied the two boxes together with string, and Ronnie and I walked off. On our way up Lexington Avenue I asked Ronnie, "Do you think you could contain your enthusiasm for that sweater for about a week?" "Why? What's up?" "Well...I figure we could wrap these as birthday presents, and I could tell a barefaced lie to Martha sometime next week that I'm going to have a surprise birthday for you, my sweet Aunt Veronica, because I won't be here on your birthday." "Hmm." "And I could get a cake, see, but the birthday party would really be for her." "Awww." "Well, for both of you." "Awwwww." "Come on, can we do that?" "You're a cute nephew. But soooo devious. But okay. that's a good idea. Let's go get some wrapping paper and wrap this stuff at my place. We can keep it there." We bought wrapping paper and ribbons and cards, and we took it all to Ronnie's apartment, sneaking up the stairs like a couple of crimi- nals. In her living room, Ronnie wanted to take a look inside the boxes to check the packing and remove the tags. I said quickly, "Tell you what, you check the box with the coat. I'll check the sweater." "What difference does it make? Let's just check 'em." "Well, the sweater's partly your birthday present. So, you don't get to look at it again until the party." Ronnie looked at me, skeptical. "So complicated...You and Martha both." I picked up the sweater box from Ronnie's coffee table and headed for the bedroom. She asked, "Where are you going?" I raised a warning finger. "Ah-ah. You're not supposed to see." "Oh, for goodness' sake." She sighed, and opened the box with the overcoat. "Whatever you need, dear, to keep the fantasy alive for your little mind. Oh, look at this. What a gorgeous coat." In the bedroom, I folded the sweaters neatly, packing one with brown tissue and the other with black tissue, and I made out a small card for each sweater. I taped the box shut, and brought it into the living room to Ronnie. I said, "Okay, all's well with the sweater. I figure you should be the one to wrap it. You're the one with all the talent around here." Ronnie did a beautiful, neat job of wrapping. I made out birthday cards for Martha and for Ronnie, then sealed the cards and tucked them under the ribbons on the boxes. Then I asked her, "All right, when are we gonna do this?" Ronnie thought. "Uh...Tomorrow night after dinner." "Tomorrow? Sunday? Martha's birthday is a week from now. Why so soon?" She grinned. "Because I can't wait." The she screwed up her face in a girlish grin. "I can't wait!" She gave me a hug, and said again, "I can't wait." "Where are we gonna keep all this stuff? Martha might come in here and see it, if it's lying around." Ronnie said, "We'll put it 'em in the oh-my-god room." "The what?" "The oh-my-god room. You know? 'Oh my god, where am I gonna put this?' Come on." She grabbed the boxes and she led me to her bedroom closet and had me open the door while she moved stuff around and shoved the boxes inside. She said, "Okay, tomorrow before dinner, we'll keep Martha busy and out of the apartment somewhere. I'll let you know. And I'll show you a good bakery, where you can get a cake. And, uh...so that's it. It's a lovely, lovely conspiracy. I'm gonna love it." On her way to showing me to the door, Ronnie said, "Martha's gonna love that dress. She'll go bananas." PART 18D: Everything I did in New York had me thinking of Memphis. My Saturday night date with Becky was a lot of fun. Innocent fun, despite the fact that Becky was such a lively, sweet tempered turn-on. I took her to see 'Bridge Over the River Kwai', which I'd seen before but wanted to see again. It was an exercise in socializing. Merely sitting next to cute Becky in a movie house was sexually arousing. I couldn't help but feel affection for her, she was so likeable and bright. But my emo- tions were with Martha and Ronnie. I knew then that the two women had spoiled me thoroughly with their affection and passion. It seemed inconceivable that anything could be better, or even worth the effort; that thought had me wondering what I'd do when I returned to Memphis, where there were no Marthas or Ronnies in sight. Becky was home by ten-thirty. She introduced me to her folks, who waited up for her. I chatted with them for several minutes, during which all they talked about was Martha, whom they knew and whom they praised lavishly, telling me Martha should leave Columbia and start a private, professional consulting operation with like minded partners. Becky's parents were quite liberal in their beliefs and politics. When I left their home I was convinced more than ever that returning to Memphis would be like returning to prison, for me. On the subway back to Martha's I knew I was working myself into another funk about Memphis. I resisted my own gloomy anger, realizing it would only worsen my last days in New York. When I returned to Martha's all I wanted to do was lounge about the place with her. She was in bed with a few of her papers, getting ready for returning to work Monday. When I was ready for bed she put everything away and we talked about my date with Becky. I mentioned that Becky's folks talked about a private career for Martha, and Martha told me she'd been thinking about it and would soon have to make some serious decisions. With the lights out I lay watching Martha sleep, unable to sleep myself. I kept thinking how great Martha would look as she traveled about the city in that new coat. Like Ronnie, I could hardly wait for Sunday night. Sunday morning I went bird watching with Ronnie. As we had done before, we soon parted from the Audubon group and went our own way. Ronnie sat on a big granite boulder under a group of trees and watched while I took my run in a small, grassy clearing. She told me, "You run. I'll coach from up here." I started jogging in a wide circle. From atop the boulder, Ronnie cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted at me, "Hey, c'mon! Faster! I can do better than that!" I ran another lap around the clearing, working up a good sweat. Ronnie yelled at me, "Hey! You're hardly movin'!" and she pointed at me and laughed. I kept thinking, I love you, Ronnie. I love both of you. Ronnie and I had worked out our plan. Martha was to think that she'd go to dinner with Ronnie and tell Ronnie that I was tied up with something until they came home, while I'd be at Martha's setting up for Ronnie's surprise birthday. Ronnie's birthday wasn't until Febru- ary, but I would be in Memphis then. I told Martha we'd have a small dinner for her own birthday next week, before I left for Memphis. Sunday afternoon I took a nap. I woke up, lying on my face, as Martha crawled onto the bed and settled onto my back with her head on my shoulder. She said, "Hi. I hate to wake you up, but I have to go out with Ronnie soon." "Okay." She kissed my neck. "You gonna get it all set up while we're gone?" "Yep." She kissed my neck again. "Tired?" "Not really. I'm waking up." She kissed my neck again. "Well, I could help wake you up." I chuckled, and I rolled over and let her settle onto my chest. I said, "You don't want to save something for tonight?" "Oh, I'd save a little." I looked at her face. She was smiling at me, impishly sensuous. I said, "Are you going crazy again?" "Mm-hm. I came in here a few times and watched you sleeping." "That made you crazy?" "Sometimes it does." "I confess. Sometimes I do the same thing." "Mm? Then why didn't you do something about it?" "Next time, I will." "You haven't done it yet. We only have a week." "Then I'll do it all week." "Mm. Okay." I said, "C'mon, let me up. It's almost time to get ready." She didn't move. She looked at my mouth. "Okay." "Come on, let me up." "Okay." She remained still, on top of me. "Hey. C'mon." "Okay." She smiled at my mouth. I said, "Don't say okay if you don't mean okay." "Okay." "So let me up." She didn't say okay, she didn't say anything. She lay on me and grinned. I kissed her, and her lovely mouth fed on mine for a moment, and then she ended the kiss and said, "Mm. Better." While Martha and Ronnie were away I went to a bakery on Third Avenue and bought two small, decorated birthday cakes. One for Martha, one for Ronnie. The little box of candles was free. Ronnie had given me a key to her apartment, where I dug the boxes out of the oh-my-god room, stopping to pick up several articles that tumbled out when I opened the closet door. In Martha's apartment I set up the dining room table with the two cakes and the two boxes sitting in front of them, along with a third, smaller present that Ronnie had wrapped and that she had asked me to include with the others.. When Martha and Ronnie showed up at seven, the birthday candles were burning. One cake had a candy "Happy Birthday Martha" on it, the other had "Happy Birthday Ronnie." I stood in the kitchen waiting for them. Martha entered the front door, telling Ronnie, "Steven should be back by now. By the way, I didn't tell you, there's something waiting for you in the dining room." Ronnie said innocently, "For me?" and I suppressed a big smile when I heard her say that. Martha waited at the door, watching Ronnie enter, and I said casually, "Why, hello. So glad you two could come." "Hello," Ronnie said, crossing the living room, a sneaky smile on her face. "Well, Martha...I forgot to tell you, too, that there's something waiting for *you*, not for --" She stopped, gaping at the dining room table. She put her hands on her hips. She said, "Steven. What did you do?" She turned to me, grinning, surprised. "What the hell did you do?" Martha closed and locked the door, frowning. "What is it?" Ronnie said disbelievingly, "C'mere, look at this. Look what he did." Martha walked toward the table, her eyes widening as she got closer. She breathed, "Well, good lord." She looked at me. "What did you do?" I said, "Why is everybody asking me what I did? Look, that's what I did." Ronnie shook her head. "I don't believe it. He fooled us both." I stepped toward them. "I couldn't make up my mind, so I got two cakes. One's chocolate on white, the other's white on chocolate." Ronnie said, "Steven, you're a master criminal. I said, "You're supposed to blow out the candles." Martha gaped for another moment, then she looked at me and said steadfastly, "We are *not* going to sing happy birthday!" I began, "Happy birthday to you, Happy birth--" "No!" Martha said. "I hate that. It's so --" She smiled, and her eyes got red. She pleaded sweetly, "Steven, don't do it. Please. I get so embarrassed." She shot a glance at Ronnie. "So you were in on this all along. Serves you right." Ronnie touched Martha's shoulder. She said, "Martha, happy birth- day." She kissed Martha on the cheek. Martha hugged her back. "You too, Ron. You old maid." Ronnie laughed, choking up a little herself, and they hugged again. Then Martha turned to me and feigned an angry frown, beckoning with her finger and moving toward me. "C'mere." I back away, "Now, let's take it easy." "Come...here!" I circled around her. "Not if you're gonna be rough." Martha said, "Get 'im, Ronnie." Both of them started for me, and I backed into the living room. Martha said, getting closer, warning me, "There's no place to ru-u-un." They came to me, grinning, and then both of them wrapped their their arms around me and began planting tickly little kisses all over my face and neck, laughing, hugging me. I said, "All right, c'mon, let's open the presents." Martha said, "What do you think we oughtta do to him, Ronnie?" Ronnie said slyly, "Everything." Martha said, "Drive him crazy?" Ronnie said, "Nah, I think we already did that. Let's just put him into a coma." I said, "Hold on, let's reserve judgment until you see the presents." Martha said, "Well, okay." She started for the dining room. "You know, I halfway suspected something like this, with my own birthday coming up. But I didn't expect a gift, Steven." They went into the dining room with me behind them, and we stood around the table. Martha told Ronnie, "You first." Ronnie said, "You first. Yours is the bigger one." Martha said, "You." Ronnie said, "Your birthday's first." Martha said, "Well..." We watched and waited. Martha looked down at the bigger box, her hands on its sides. I said, "Well? Martha?" Martha asked, suspenseful, "What's in here?" Ronnie said, impatient, "Open it!" Martha lifted the box and tore gently at one corner. She murmured, "This is such a big box." She pulled at the paper slowly, hesitantly. Ronnie said sarcastically, "Martha, maybe Steven and I could go out and do a little shopping, and check back." I said, "C'mon, Martha, open it." Martha pulled at the ribbon and it came undone and she pulled it off the box. She glanced at Ronnie. "Who bought this? Did you buy this?" Ronnie said, "Steven picked it out. Steven bought it. I tried it on." "Tried it on?" "Martha, open the damn box." She tore away another huge piece of the glossy white paper, and she set the birthday card envelope aside, and she glanced at me with a mildly accusing smirk, and then she lifted the top and set it aside as well. She looked down at the bulge of layered white tissue paper. Ronnie murmured, clenching her fists and closing her eyes, "Martha, stop driving me crazy." A little smile on her face, Martha drew the top layer of tissue aside. There was the coat, collar facing up. Martha blinked and seemed to go limp. She laid her palms on the coat, caressing it. She gave a hushed whisper, "Oh my god." Ronnie instructed her patiently, "Look, Martha, you pick it up, you take it out of the box, you look at it. It's easy. It's not complicated." Martha picked up the coat by the shoulders and lifted the coat up and overhead, letting its length fall in front of her, her eyes fixed on it and her smile widening. She breathed again, "Oh my god." I said, "Well? You like it? Ronnie made sure it would fit." "Oh my god." Ronnie giggled, folding her arms in front of her. "Come on, try it on." Martha looked at it up and down for a moment. Ronnie threw up her hands and sighed. Martha said, "Okay. Okay, I'll try it on." I held the coat for her as she backed into it, and I straightened it around her shoulders. She looked down at it. She held out her arms, and looked down at herself. "Steven, it's..." I kissed her cheek. "Happy birthday." She wrapped the coat closely around her. "This is so nice. This is such a lovely coat." She turned to me, her head slowly moving side to side, her eyes warm but fearful. "Steven, this is not a bargain coat. This is not a bargain basement coat. How much did this cost?" I shook my head no, and Ronnie chided her, "Martha!" I said, "Unfair question." She smiled at me, and looked down at the coat. I said, "It's yours. It's not going back. So there." She reached for my face and she put her lips on my cheek and gave me a warm, lingering kiss. She hugged her face against mine. "Thank you, hon. Thank you so much." "You're welcome." She looked down at the coat again, running her palms up an down the front. "It's beautiful. It really is." Ronnie sighed a loud "Whew! Well, it's time for mine, then." She grabbed the sweater box and ripped off the ribbon and tore the paper away. "Martha, this is actually for both of us, from Steven to me and you. I've already seen it, so I'm not going to stand around gaping and screaming oh my god all over the place, because I already know what it is. But you'll like it, it's for both of us...Oh, the card! Supposed to read the card first." She pulled the birthday card from the envelope and opened it. She read aloud, "'To Mama Martha and Aunt Ronnie. The Best and the Best. I love you both. Steven'. Aww." I said, "Stop it, Ronnie." Ronnie said louder, "Awwww." Then she smiled sweetly. "That was very sweet, Steven. Thank you." Ronnie set the top aside and grinned down at the box. "Very clever,Steven, brown tissue to match the fabric. I didn't even see you do that." She pulled the tissue aside and pulled out the sweater, hold- ing it up by the shoulders for Martha to see. Ronnie sang, "Ta-daaa!. See? Isn't that a nice one?" In her coat, Martha stepped to Ronnie and touched the sweater. "Mmm, Steven. Oh, that's very attractive. You picked this, too?" I said, "Ronnie picked that." Martha said, "Well, It's very pretty. I don't believe you did all this." Ronnie held the sweater across her front, grinning at it. "See? It'll fit both of us. When you get sick of trying that coat on, you can try this, too." I said, "Ronnie." I nudged by head toward the box. "There's something under it." "Huh?" "There's something under it." Ronnie put the brown sweater on the table, smiling as she reached into the box and lifted the layers of brown tissue. Her smile faded to a dull gaze when she saw the small envelope atop the bulge of black tissue. She set the other tissue down and picked up the card, her eyes fixed on it, and she opened the envelope. She read the front aloud, her lips barely moving. "A special gift for a special someone, on the special event of your birthday." She opened the card. She read it to herself and closed her eyes a moment. She read it again, aloud. 'For showing me the way to the ancient heavenly connection into the starry dynamo. Love...Steven'." She set the card on the table, and gazed at the black tissue in the box, stunned. Martha looked at me. She said, "The ancient heavenly...That's Ginsberg, isn't it?" I nodded yes. Martha smiled knowingly. "So. She gave you Ginsberg. I should have done that myself." She turned to Ronnie. "So? Ronnie? You're worse than I am. Open it, let's see." Ronnie looked up at me, her eyes narrowing. "You are so sneaky, Steven." I said, "Come on. Do it." She took a breath, murmuring to me, "Just wait. You just wait." She reached down and parted the tissue, and she raised her hands to her face, her palms on each cheek, and her mouth dropped and her eyes popped open. She breathed, "Oh, you didn't." Martha looked into the box. "Well, what is it? What --? Oh, how nice. Look at that fabric, good lord. Come on, Ronnie, take it out." Still clasping her face, Ronnie looked at me, smiling and aston- ished. I blushed. Ronnie said, "How did you *do* that? When?" I said, "While you were looking for the scarf." She nudged her lips at me in playful anger. "Oh, you are such a -- If I had known you were gonna do this to me..." Martha grinned and chuckled. "You have to keep your eyes on Steven, Ronnie." Ronnie said, "God, you're such a bandit." I shrugged. "Well, it's supposed to be a surprise." "Yeah, but if I'd known what you were doing when I went off and --" Martha said, touching the sweater, "Well, come on, stop talking and let's see the darn thing." Ronnie pulled the sweater out of the box and put it on, and she closed the sweater around her and looked down at it. "Oooh, this is wonderful. Oh!" Martha said, "Looks a lot better than that old rag you picked up at Sach's, huh?" Ronnie breathed, ecstatic, "Oooh, shit." Martha smiled at me. "I think that's Ronnie talk for thank-you, hon." "Yes, Steven, thank you!" I said, "You're welcome." Martha looked at me. "This cost you a fortune, didn't it?" I blushed, and held up a hand. "We don't talk about that." "Well...all right. But I know it did." I gestured toward the two cakes. "The candles were free." Martha smirked. "The candles. You're so cute." Ronnie, blushing like mad, walked toward me. "Don't move." I said, "Now, don't get hysterical." She came to me quickly, but she slowed, and she put her lips very, very gently against my cheek. She whispered, "Thank you. You sneak." Martha said, "Oh, my card." Ronnie said, "Yeah, you didn't read your card." We watched Martha open the envelope and pull out the card. She read merrily, "For you on your birthday." She grinned at us, "Well, that wasn't too complicated." She opened the card. Her smile softened, and her chin trembled briefly and she swallowed hard. She whispered, "Whatever happens." Ronnie said, "Whatever happens?" Martha closed the card and said, blushing, "That's just...some- thing from Steven." Ronnie said, glancing at her, "Oh. Must have been nice." Martha said, "Yes. It is." She laid the card on the dining table. Then Ronnie picked up the last present, the book-sized flat one in pale blue wrapping paper lying beside the two bigger boxes. She handed the present to Martha. "And this is from me." Martha said, "Ronnie, you shouldn't have spent money on me, we usually just give cards." "No, I didn't spend. I didn't have it to spend. I made it." Martha started unwrapping carefully, and Ronnie frowned impa- tiently again and sighed, "Martha..." Martha smiled and said "All right" and ripped the ribbon away quickly, while Ronnie glanced at me and said, "Now you know why Martha and I aren't roommates any more." Martha held up the gift, a pen and ink drawing on matte paper set onto a heavy matte frame. "Oh, Ronnie. The Fire Island beach. This is beautiful." Ronnie blushed. "I did the original in pencil while you guys were napping. But I had to re-work it at home in ink." "You do such beautiful work. Steven, look at this." I looked at the drawing. It was a view looking down the beach, framed by a group of high, wind swept reed, with the sky and ocean beyond. And it was very good, full of subtle line and detail. I said, "Ronnie that's so good. You can just feel the quality of the breeze, and...everything." Martha kissed Ronnie on the cheek. "Thank you, Ron." "Okay." Martha looked at Ronnie again for a second, and hugged her again. Ronnie gave her a pat on the back. "Okay, honey." Martha straightened up and took a big breath, and blushed. "Oh, embarrassed." Ronnie and I laughed, and Martha set the picture on the table. "I'd better get out of this coat, so we can dig into the cake." But she gazed silently at the birthday card I had given her. Ronnie took off the sweater and folded it and walked back to the table, and started putting both sweaters in the box. "Well, c'mon, let's move this stuff." Martha said quietly, "Okay, I'll...just a minute, I'll be back." She picked up the card, and she walked to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug, and she brought the card into the bedroom. Ronnie stood over one of the cakes, holding the plastic cake knife. She called, "Martha! Come on, we didn't blow out the candles! The candles are burning down!" She looked at me. "Hey, you wanna make some coffee to have with this?" I said, "I'm not supposed to drink coffee, y'know." Ronnie grinned at me. "Make some. You're gonna need it, you sneaky little devil." PART 18E: In the candlelight Martha's teeth and eyes glinted as she lay naked under me, knees drawn back, grinning up at me. She held my cock at the root with one hand and she watched my eyes while I entered her. I groaned as her creamy pussy closed around me. Her grin widened when I started screwing. She whispered, "Fuck. Fuck." Her cunt gripped, tight. I groaned again, my head arching back. Martha whispered, "Fuck." I looked at her eyes. They sparkled with lust. I knew by the look in them that she was going crazy again. Her cunt stayed tight around me. I gasped, "Oh! Martha! So good!" She whispered, "Fuck." Ronnie was sitting up beside me, her lips near my ear. She whispered, "Fuck her, Steven." Martha taunted me with whispers from below and Ronnie with whispers beside me. I wasn't going to last long, and we'd barely got started. I looked down at Martha's wildly lascivious grin. I gasped, "You're gonna make me cum like that. You're both driving me crazy." Martha teased, "That's the idea." I slowed down. The wild itch was already growing in me. I slowed more, and I said, "Not yet." Martha said, "Want to take your time?" I stopped moving, staying deep in her and catching my breath. I said, "Yeah. Let's slow down." Martha smiled and calmed a little. I looked at her and I made my cock twitch inside her. She closed her eyes. "Mmm." I twitched again, and again. She said, "You know I like that." "Yes." Beside me, Ronnie ran her hand over my butt and down the crack and then to my balls. She kissed my shoulder. I paused for a few seconds and twitched inside Martha again, and Martha sighed, her cunt squeez- ing me back. Ronnie's hand pressed the muscle under my balls, and I moaned. Ronnie whispered, "Feels good, huh?" "Yeah." She pressed again, massaging slowly. I closed my eyes. "Mmmm." I twitched inside Martha again, and again. Ronnie pulled her head back. "You cummin'?" "No." "What's goin' on down there?" Martha told her, "He's pulsing inside me." "Yeah? He can do that?" "Of course." "I didn't know he could do that. On purpose? It felt like he came." Martha chuckled, "Ronnie, you're such a virgin." "Yeah, right." She kept her fingers on that muscle. She looked at me. "Do that again." I twitched. Ronnie smiled. "That's so sexy." She whispered, "That's dark." I said, "Yeah?" "It's so subtle. How long can you do that?" "For a while." "Mmm." Ronnie moved away from me, settling on her side, leaning on an elbow near Martha's shoulder. She looked at Martha, "You can cum like that?" Martha nodded. "Eventually, I guess." I twitched in her, a couple of times, and Martha gave a quiet "Mmm," and her wet pussy gave my dick a prolonged squeeze, and I let out a soft sigh, and inside her was a wet, wrinkled, soft fist that clenched my dick, clinched again, and my dick pulsed and I sighed again. Martha removed her hand from my root and placed her hands on my shoulders and looked down at the flesh that joined us. She started a rythmic contracting and releasing of her cunt. I closed my eyes and whimpered. Ronnie asked, surprised, "Martha, what are you doing?" Martha said, "Milking him. Milking his cock inside me." She continued, gazing down at my cock in her. Ronnie said, "God, where do you two learn all this stuff?" Martha said, "We think them up as we go along. Mm, he likes it. He's throbbing." While she milked me with contractions she churned her hips a little. I moaned again, feeling new precum creep through me. I whispered, "Stop, now. Slow down. Slow down." Ronnie looked up at me. "You gonna cum like that?" I panted, "Not yet." Ronnie smirked, and settled on her tummy, her head near Martha's. "I don't believe you two. How long can you do this?" Martha said, "I don't know. We never tried it this way for long." I shifted on my extended arms over Martha, regaining my balance. Martha said, "Tired, hon?" "No. Just resting." I looked down at her. "Take it easy for a while." "Okay." "It feels good." "Good. Me too." We rested for a moment, and Ronnie casually caressed Martha's shoulder. Ronnie breathed softly, "So many ways to give pleasure. I like this. It's dark." After a few moments I began arching my cock inside Martha again, giving her two or three twitches between pauses, and Martha began squeezing in return, but I told her, "No, you just enjoy it. Let me do it for you." She said, "Okay," and she smiled at me, waiting. I twitched a couple of times, and then I adjusted my position, my cock pressed more tightly against her clit, and twitched, and she raised her hips and moaned pleasantly. I slid my cock out and in slowly a couple of times, then I waited, then I twitched. She breathed a sultry "Ahhh." "You like that?" "Yes." "Wanna see if you can you cum that way?" "Mm. Let's try." "Try not to move too much, now, it feels really good when you do." She looked up at me. "I might have to move a little, now and then, or I'll never get there. Think you'll be okay?" I smiled down at her. "We'll find out." "Okay." I looked into her eyes. "This is good." "Yes." I began twitching in her, contracting my sphincter and tummy a few times and pausing, then arching my cock slowly again, then moving in and out a little. She closed her eyes and her head fell back, her knees falling to each side of her, the palms of her hands flat against my shoulders. Ronnie gave me a knowing little smile, and as Martha relaxed into the new technique, Ronnie began caressing her shoulder. For ten or fifteen minutes I kept it up, getting very excited inside Martha's squishy, gripping cunt as her pleasure grew and while Ronnie's lips pleased Martha's breasts. As it got better for Martha she began to move her hips subtly now and then, scrubbing her clit against me, and I would fuck her gently for a brief moment until it just got too good for me before going back to twitching in her and pressing my root against her nub. Martha's pussy became progressively tighter. She gave strong contractions more and more often and began to sigh and moan. And Ronnie grew more and more enthralled and absorbed in the act, whispering now and then to Martha, asking her how it felt. But soon Martha could no longer respond to her. She lay with her eyes shut tight and her neck arching, her pelvis writhing more frequently and fervently. Ronnie's lips on Martha's nipples toyed more lovingly, giving long sucks and much gentle, wet licking, and Martha seemed to enjoy it greatly. It was making me pretty damn horny, too. Then Martha's cunt tightened more urgently, her breathing more strenuous and jagged. I whispered to her, "Gettin' close?" Martha sighed, "Yes! Ohyes!" I pumped gently in and out, slowly, my cock hard against her swollen clit, and I whispered soothingly, "Take your time, now. I'm okay. Let it get good." She answered with a moaned, "Yes!" Ronnie raised her head from Martha's nipple and began to kiss softly along Martha's shoulder and asked her, "Is it dark? Is it dark, Martha?" and Martha breathed blissfully, "Oh! Oh!" Ronnie squeezed Martha's nipples, rolling them between her fingers, and Martha moaned and arched her hips for a moment and Ronnie whispered, "Is that good?" and Martha nodded yes, starting to pant. Then Ronnie watched Martha's face and her lips made their way to Martha's neck, and she gave Martha's neck a little lick, and then a longer lick upward, and a kiss on Martha's chin and then Martha's cheek, and Ronnie's lips touched Martha's for a second, and moved away. Martha shivered, the vibration moving from her legs upward and to her shoulders, and I felt the beginning of the slow, continual tightening inside her, her upper wall sinking and her outer ring gripping, and I knew she would climax soon. I slowed and lengthened my strokes in her, feeling her slick essence seep out of her, and I whispered, "Yes, Martha. Ahh, Yes." Martha whimpered. She swallowed hard and whispered a strained "Oh", and Ronnie's hand that played with Martha's nipple began to stroke downward, and she looked at Martha's face as the hand moved down. Then Ronnie's fingernails moved into Martha's tuft and played there, stroking back and forth in Martha's soft auburn patch, and Ronnie whispered to Martha, "Happy birthday, Martha. Steven and I love you. We love you." Then Martha's pelvis ground against mine feverishly, her cunt dripping, and her pelvis went around and around and around against mine, and then she groaned. She whimpered Ronnie's name weakly, and then she started cumming. Her head rose and her mouth hung open and Ronnie's head rose with Martha's, and Ronnie smiled at her as Martha whimpered, the pitch of her voice rising, "Oh! Oh! OH!" Then Martha froze with her rapture, her cunt sucking, and sucking again, and Ronnie whispered, "Yeah. Mm, yeah." I stroked in and out of her heat, and Martha's head and neck trembled and she breathed "Oh god!" painfully, and for a long moment she was absolutely rigid and still while I fucked her. And then she sighed "Ah," and her head began to fall back and she sighed "Ah, ah, ahhh, ahhhh," and she started to relax. Ronnie kissed Martha's forehead. Martha sighed, her hands loosening on my shoul- ders, and I could feel that her nails had left marks there. I stopped moving on Martha, settling deep into her, feeling her channel relax. She felt extremely wet inside, her outer lips slick around my shaft. Ronnie's hand left Martha's pelvis and cradled Martha's face, and Ronnie spoke softly to her. "There, honey. There, it was good. It was a good cum." Martha's reached up and held Ronnie's stroking hand tightly. She gasped, "Oh my god! Oh! Oh, I'm worn out!" Ronnie chuckled. "Well, I guess so! You okay?" "Yes. Oh, yes!" I settled onto Martha, burying my face in her neck, and her arm went around my head and hugged me to her while she panted. I let my cock slip out of her, and she gave a little moan, surprised, and I whispered against her neck, "Don't worry. Just resting. I'm not ready yet." I chuckled against her ear. "We have a long way to go yet." Martha gave a soft laugh and said, "Oh, no." It took Martha several minutes to relax. She seemed to linger in a dreamy post-orgasmic haze. Her eyes looked glazed and sumptuous when she finally sat up and looked at Ronnie and whispered to her, "Lie down, Ronnie." Ronnie looked at her questioningly and Martha smiled and reminded her, "It's your birthday party, too, right?" Ronnie said, "Right," and she lay down in the middle of the bed, her head on a pillow and one arm draped behind her head. She waited with a soft smile as Martha settled onto her side, resting on an elbow at Ronnie's left, and I lay on Ronnie's right and bent to kiss her neck. Ronnie whispered to me, "But don't make me wait so long this time. I'm almost there already." I said, "I'm almost there, too." I kissed and nipped from neck to waist and up again, and she lay with her eyes closed, quietly enjoying. Martha caressed Ronnie's arm with her fingertips, and her fingers soon moved gently along Ronnie's shoulder and along her neck, and as Martha's fingertips stroked Ronnie's long, slender neck, Ronnie let her face fall to the other side and she smiled. Martha whispered, "Is that nice?" and Ronnie whispered, "Yes. Feels good, Martha." Martha continued to let her fingers and nails roam gently over Ronnie's arm and shoulder and neck while I moved my mouth to Ronnie's breast, licking and kissing. I licked around and around the dark aureoles for a while, and then I licked her nipples. I pinched them between my lips, pulling up firmly. Ronnie breathed a quiet "Nnn." I nursed her nipples for many minutes, tending to both of them until they were jutting stiffly, and my fingers toyed with her thighs and hips and around her delicate slit. When her breathing became broken after several minutes I knew she was floating into her darkness, and I sensed her faint, spicy aroma. Martha starting giving Ronnie's shoulder soft kisses while she caressed Ronnie's arm and neck. I let my finger probe inside Ronnie's slit and found her open and dripping, and she began to pant as my finger moved up an down the length of her slit, sparing her clit for the time being. I planned on saving her clit for last. I rose on my arms and shifted my body over hers, and she spread her legs a little and I settled onto her warm, supple length, my face over her navel. I looked up and Martha smiled at me, her eyes heavy- lidded and fuming, and she blew me a little kiss. I pursed my lips, sending her a little kiss as well, and I kissed Ronnie's tummy and licked around and around her navel and then into it, and Ronnie smiled and sighed. Then I began licking, licking slowly down one side of her tummy and down to her hip bone, and I slid my body lower, and I kissed the soft, silky black feather of her patch, and I rested my cheek on it for a moment, smelling her scent and her flesh, letting her warmth soak into the skin of my cheek. I heard a rustle of movement and I lifted my eyes to see Martha leaning closer over Ronnie, Martha's fingertips drawing slow lines across Ronnie's collarbone from shoulder to shoulder, and Martha watched Ronnie's closed eyes and parted lips. Martha kept watching Ronnie and caressing her while I settled lower into Ronnie's lap, and my lips trailed kisses down Ronnie's left thigh. She raised her knees and let her slim thighs fall open, her pussy completely open to me, and my tongue made little licks upward along the inside of her thigh, and Ronnie's breath quickened. I licked upward, nearing her cunt. I looked up to see Martha's fingers skimming circles around Ronnie's breasts, first one and then the other, and then Martha's fingers cupped one of Ronnie's nipples and pinched, and pulled, and Ronnie gave a barely audible moan. Martha kept watching her, pinching and pulling the nipple. I lowered my head and extended my tongue, and my tongue ran a long, slow line up one side of Ronnie's slit, and Ronnie breathed a quiet "ohhh." I let my tongue linger at the top of her slit and then let it stroke down the other side of the long slit, and her hips rose a little. And then I watched as Martha's fingertips crept in deliberate, narrow circles downward, down to Ronnie's tummy, and her fingernails made slow sweeps back and forth, back and forth, and while I gave Ronnie's slit slow licks upward, Martha's fingers began to play in Ronnie's pubic curls, pulling, caressing, circling. Slowly I licked Ronnie's pussy, all the way up and then down, and Ronnie's breath trembled, and then I began to lick with a lethargic rhythm, my tongue's tip softly touching, and I could feel her petals flowing with her and parting for me, spreading. Then Ronnie held her breath, and I raised my eyes again, and I saw Martha slowly licking Ronnie's neck, slowly upward, upward again, and I let my tongue slow on Ronnie's cunt while I watched. Martha licked Ronnie's chin, and then Martha leaned closer to her, her face hovering near Ronnie's that was turned slightly to one side. Then Martha bent her head and licked slowly up the middle of Ronnie's throat, and Ronnie turned her face upward and arched her neck and gave a small gasp, and Martha raised her head again and looked down into Ronnie's face. Martha watched Ronnie intently as the hand that played in Ronnie's patch laid flat on it and then slowly, slowly slid down. I stopped licking, raising my head a little. I watched as Martha's lips parted while she watched Ronnie's closed eyes, and then Martha's hand crept down and covered Ronnie's pussy, cupping it, and it rested there. Ronnie gave a trembling sigh and took in her breath again. I watched Martha's middle finger press into the length of Ronnie's slit, and Ronnie swallowed, and Martha whispered to her almost inaudibly, "Feel good?" Ronnie swallowed and whispered softly, "Yes." Then Martha's finger pressed a little more, and her finger bent inward, searching, and her finger rose in the slit and then stopped, and then it made a little circle, and Ronnie let out a soft, trembling breath and lifted a hand from her side and placed it on the back of Martha's neck. Martha watched her, concentrating on Ronnie's closed eyes. Then Martha's fingers made another slow circle on Ronnie's clit, and Ronnie's breath trembled again and she swallowed hard again. Martha's fingers circled and circled, pressing into Ronnie's leafy folds, stirring them aside and outward, and the petals clung to Martha's delicate fingers as the slow circles opened Ronnie's pussy. Martha whispered, "Okay?" and Ronnie whispered tensely, "Yes." Then Martha's fingers stopped for a moment, and then a single finger lowered and it pressed into Ronnie's slit. I watched the finger slowly enter, slowly, and I saw Martha working the finger a little, only an inch inside Ronnie, and I knew Martha had encountered the same tight entry point that I had always found just inside Ronnie. Martha frowned, the finger working gently for a second, and I saw Ronnie's thighs and pelvis relax, and then Martha gave a smile as the finger dipped inside, deeper, and Ronnie moaned, her hips rising as the slender finger disappeared into her opening. Martha bent and unbent the finger and it went in and out of Ronnie slowly, and Ronnie's thighs seemed to fall limply farther apart, and Ronnie sighed a warm, hushed "Ahhhh." Martha smiled at her and whispered, "Okay, hon?" and Ronnie whispered fervently "Ohh, yes!" Martha smiled again, watching Ronnie's face while her finger slowly fucked her. I lifted my head farther and then I rose, resting against my heels. I wiped sweat off my brow, and I watched Martha and Ronnie. Martha glanced at me, and then smiled back at Ronnie and murmured, "She's so soft inside. So that's what you feel inside her." I whispered, "Yes." And Martha said again, "So that's what you feel." I smiled at Martha and whispered gently, "That's what I feel inside you, too." Martha whispered, "Oh. Now I know." Martha's finger slowed, going in and out, then stopped, then withdrew, and Ronnie seemed to relax with a small sigh, her eyes still closed, her fingers on the back of Martha's neck caressing briefly. Then Ronnie's hand was still again as Martha's fingers moved to Ronnie's clit and pressed. Ronnie's eyes tightened a little, and then Martha's finger began to slowly circle Ronnie's clit and Ronnie gulped hard and breathed "Ohhh" again. Martha whispered, "This way?" and Ronnie whispered, "Slower." Then Martha said, "Like that?" and Ronnie said dimly, "Yes. Yes." Martha fingered Ronnie's clit again and again and again, and I watched Martha's fingertip and painted fingernail glisten with Ronnie's moisture. Ronnie began to hold her breath and let it out quickly and gasp inward and hold it. Her legs seemed to spread even farther apart, not relaxing but tensing, the long tendons stretched tight. Below Martha's circling finger, Ronnie's pussy was open, the tender lips curling outward. I rose onto my arms and straightened my legs, and Martha glanced at me, but her gaze returned to Ronnie's closed-eyed, tensed face. I hovered over Ronnie's body, my cock jutting, and I lowered my cock below her crotch and moved forward, feeling the knuckle of Martha's bending finger graze my patch, and I let my tip nudge into the lips. Ronnie whispered a sudden "oh god." I slid my cock ahead, and I met the wet resistance, and Ronnie whispered "Oh god" and raised her hips a little, and I pushed my cock in, and Ronnie's mouth fell open and she squinted hard and whimpered, and I slid deeper and she sighed outward with a quick, breathless "Ah." Martha grinned at her, and I felt the finger continue its circling near my cock. And an almost mystical, delicious lust swept up my back, and I heard my breath quiver with the lust and the pleasure when I began slowly fucking Ronnie while Martha fingered her. I lifted up a little, half an inch or so, giving Martha's hand more freedom. I wasn't as deep into Ronnie as before, but it was still good and hot and wet. After a few strokes I stopped fucking, holding my climax back, and I started twitching my cock inside Ronnie's tight channel. Ronnie's head went farther back, her throat extended, and she groaned, and then she breathed "Oh...fuck." Her cunt started to tighten, and I started twitching inside her strongly, my teeth gritting with my growing salaciousness, and I grunted with pleasure and I sighed "Ah, ahhh," while I twitched in her. Martha grinned at Ronnie and whispered, "Is it dark, hon? Hm?" And Ronnie moaned, as if in an agony of pleasure, her moan low and gutsy, "Ohhh, yes! Oh god!" Martha whispered, encouraging, "Good, Ronnie. Good." Then Ronnie's hips rose a little, and I twitched and twitched in her, and she whimpered, and then Martha leaned closer to Ronnie's lips and whispered hotly, "You're getting closer. Cum." Ronnie held her breath, and her head rose off the pillow. Then Martha's lips touched Ronnie's and she whispered again, gently, "Cum," and Ronnie whispered, her breath broken to pieces, her whisper full of the sweet, joyful terror of the nearing climax, "Martha. Martha," and then Ronnie started cumming, her cunt tighten- ing fiercely around my dick. I sighed deeply, feeling her cervix suck, and then while Ronnie came she pulled Martha's head down and they kissed, Ronnie whimpering painfully while their mouths writhed, and I started fucking her and Ronnie squinted harder while she kissed Martha. Then Ronnie's head fell back, and Martha looked at her, smiling lovingly, her finger still moving. And Ronnie, gasping, reached down and held Martha's hand, panting, "Okay! Okay! Oh! Oh god!" And I kept fucking, probing greedily now for my own finish, feeling her cunt slacken. I let my hips pump high, pulling out of her nearly to my tip and then pumping in deep, deep, hearing myself grunt with the pleasure of my long strokes in and out. I plunged deeper, and Martha removed her gleaming wet finger and caressed one of Ronnie's nipples with it. I stroked and stroked, letting the crazy pleasure build. Her sweet cunt was tight from her climax, enclosing, siphoning. I felt the frenzy of pleasure in my gut and I hissed hotly "Ah, fuck." Then the cum gushed hard and I bowed my head and sighed gruffly "Ah. Ahhh!" and I felt like an animal, a rutting animal, barely aware of Ronnie's whimpers and gasps, and the pleasure devoured my brain when Ronnie's cunt gripped, begging for cum. My balls loosened with the peaking, draining gush and I heard my loud "Mmmm!" and I heard Ronnie chanting with soft whimpers, "Oh. Oh cum. Oh. Oh." Then I slowed, luxuriating in the lush physicality of my shaft sliding in the hot, cum-slick slush inside Ronnie while the finishing squirts sluiced into her. I let my cock glide in and out, soaking up all I could from her flesh. And finally I rested above her. I'd ventured into the dark, and I'd embraced it. It felt mighty goddamn good. It was still scary, but in the right way. Later I napped, flat on my back. A soft voice whispered above my face. "Hey. We gotta go to work tomorrow." I opened my eyes. Ronnie smiled gently at me, her blue eyes glow- ing warmly into mine. She held a palm against my cheek. She said, "I'll give you a call tomorrow." She kissed me softly. "Thank you for that sweater. Thank you for my birthday." Then she gave me a long, gentle kiss, her tongue fishing for mine, and then she lifted her face. "Call you later." She scooted off the bed in her blouse and skirt, and at the bed- room door I saw Martha in her bathrobe waiting for Ronnie, smiling at her. Ronnie gave me another little goodbye wave on her way out, and Martha saw her into the living room. I heard them talk together softly and briefly, and then Martha closed and locked the door. The kitchen light went out, and Martha came into the bedroom. I sat up, wondering how long I'd napped. She got on the bed and crawled to me quickly, pushing me down and lying on top of me, the cloth ties of her bathrobe tangled around us. She held me tightly, her face against mine, her whispers agitated. "Oh, honey! Hold me! I was so wicked!" I thought: Oh, hell, what now? I held her tight, looking around the room and trying to wake up. She clung to me, breathing hard. I said, "What's the matter?" "Just hold me. I have to think." She said after a few seconds, more quietly, "I have to think." "About what?" "Shh. Hold me." I held her for a while, and she didn't move on me. After a minute I rolled her over, and her face was tense. She put her arms around me and I buried my face against her neck and held her for a while longer. She settled down after a few minutes and caressed my back. I raised my head. "You okay now?" She seemed calm, but her eyes wandered. "Yes, I -- I'll be back." She sat up and quickly got off the bed and went into the bathroom. Several minutes later she returned, looking completely calm. She reached for the night table lamp, whispering, "It's so late!" She turned out the light. She quickly let the bathrobe slip from her and got into bed and snuggled on her side against me. I embraced her, and she curled her luscious nakedness all around me, smiling against my chest and hugging me back. I asked, "All right?" "Mm-hm. Sure." She snuggled her face against mine. She said, "I'm afraid we left a mess in the kitchen sink." I said, "I'll get it tomorrow." She said, "You were so good to me tonight. And to Ronnie." I hugged her. She whispered, "I love you, hon." I said, "I love you, too." She whispered, "I know. I know, baby." Martha never told me what had her so agitated a few moments earlier. I never knew. All I could do was guess. But when it came to Martha, any guess was wild, and probably incorrect. Continued. . . <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+