Message-ID: <24992asstr$962755802@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: kellis X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Subject: {ASSM} Deferred Pleasure (MF FMF MFM Oral Anal) {Kellis} [4/7] Date: Tue, 4 Jul 2000 20:10:04 -0400 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: newsman, dennyw Deferred Pleasure a Novelette by Kellis June, 2000 Chapter 4: A New Home When she gave him the key, he opened the front door into a second floor walkup: living room/den, kitchen, bedroom and bath. It was furnished including television, dish washer and even kitchen utensils. A balcony on the back overlooked the community swimming pool, empty now at dinner time. Looking at the silverware in a sink drawer, he inquired with raised eyebrows, "No monkey wrench?" "This sink doesn't leak." She turned away from him. "I need a shower. Then I'll cook supper." "I'll join you," he suggested. The bathroom could be entered from bedroom or kitchen. She turned into the bedroom, again unzipping her skirt, opened a closet and began hanging her clothing. Several other garments were already present. He reached past her and fingered a sheer robe. It was green. "I thought you said this apartment was newly rented." "I didn't say that, though it is. I signed the lease Monday, 'for Gerald Ballard.' Your copy is in the top drawer of that chest of drawers." "Then what's this?" "I moved a few things in here yesterday. For me. I couldn't guess your size. We can go tonight or tomorrow and buy you some clothes." "For you," he noted thoughtfully. She said without looking at him, "I figured your revenge might take awhile." She went to the dresser and took out a shower cap. When her hair was tucked into it, she turned to him. "Thought you meant to join me." Though he stripped quickly, she already had the temperature regulated to suit herself. Chest to chest, they reached around each other and washed the other's back. When she felt his erection on her belly, she soaped his genitals and took him in hand. He groused, "Too bad women don't have tits on their backs, too." She laughed. "Especially for dancing, huh? Is this how you bathed in prison?" "No, but lots do." "Really? Don't the guards stop it?" "I got the impression the guards don't give a shit." "So the prisoners pair off in the showers?" "I saw a lot of it. Prison is queer heaven." He grunted. "I've seen over a dozen guys lined up in a circle, each one's dick stuck in the asshole in front of him." "Really? My god!" He cocked a wet eyebrow. "Are you interested in queer men, Holly?" She looked away, admitting softly, "For some things." He laughed incredulously. "Like what? They don't use women!" She said, "Maybe it just seems that way when no women are around." His soapy hand slipped far down her back. "Or maybe you like things here." Her arms above his shoulders pulled them tighter together. Her face rested in the hollow of his neck. His hand, reaching around her hip, applied a wet fingertip to her anus. She shivered when the first digit penetrated. "Thought you were hungry," she murmured. "Queers are better at this?" he asked. "What they are better at is ... doing a woman together." He released her and drew back slowly. "Does that idea interest you, Gerry?" "I ... don't think so." "No? Then how about two women doing the same man?" Her eyes searched his face. What she saw produced a smile. He took a breath. "I'll admit I've dreamed about that once or twice." "Good." She gave his penis a shake. "I'm getting hungry now. Come on. Let me talk to you while I fix supper." She found a robe for him to wear and took out the sheer green one for herself. She threw it on the bed, however, and posed briefly before the full length mirror on the back of the bedroom door. She turned to face him. "Gerry, do you think I'm an attractive woman?" "Oh, yes!" "I'm not too fat?" "You're not fat. You're the way a woman is supposed to look. I read an article about it somewhere. Motherhood statistics show that big tittied women with plump hips but narrow waists, like yours, have twice the kids of skinny ones. Are you attractive? I can't speak for the guy in the next bunk, but you sure are to me." "It's risky, fishing for compliments, but sometimes it pays off. Thank you, Gerry." She smiled sunnily and took up the green robe. "I'm glad you feel that way." Her nipples were dark shadows beneath the green nylon. He felt of the lapel. "This isn't the same one, is it?" "No, but I still have it. The cops kept it for a long time." "The cops? They didn't suspect *you*, did they?" "I don't think so. It had your come on it." His refrigerator was well stocked indeed, and she was a fast, accomplished cook. She had him dicing lettuce and tomato for their salad while she pressed hamburger into very thin patties and cooked them with onion rings in butter, sprinkling them with a "secret mixture of spices" and layering cheese atop them at the last. He found salad dressing, relish, mayonnaise and ketchup on the shelves and set the table for two. The bottom of the refrigerator was full of beer. He opened one, commenting dubiously, "Guess I better take it easy on this." But it was delicious. So were her cheeseburgers. "Well?" she asked pointedly as he swallowed his first bite. "Better than a deluxe," he agreed solemnly. "I told you," she remarked smugly. Clean up was quick. When the dishwasher was loaded and started, he stood behind her, lifting and squeezing her breasts. "I thought we were going to talk," he suggested. Her hand worked into his robe and enclosed his genitals. She turned her mouth against his chin. "You said I was attractive." "Is that what you want to talk about? *These* are attractive. *You* are beautiful!" "And I showed you I'm willing." "Yeah. And I'm hoping you'll tell me what *makes* you so willing." "Gerry, you're a pretty man, too, you know. Prison didn't hurt your looks, except for being a little pale. Your shoulders have filled out very nicely." "You think so?" "That shirt you had on. It was the same one you wore ... before, and it's too small for you." "I'm surprised the pants still fit." "You're age is 26, right?" "Right. How old are you, Holly?" "In six months I'll be 30." He sighed. "I used to swear I'd be rich when I was 30." "Maybe you will yet. Could you stand a woman who's three years older than you?" "Stand her? With titties like these?" She did not protest as he, still behind her, tucked the front of her robe open around her dangling breasts and squeezed one in each hand. She continued, "Could you stand her for more than just playing with boobs?" "Oh, there's more?" "Lots more. You say I'm attractive and you agree I'm willing. And that's true, Gerry. When I'm done, you'll know you can't *find* a more willing one!" He grinned. "And you can cook great cheeseburgers." "I love to cook. What do you want in a woman, Gerry?" "All those things. Loyalty would be nice, too." She spun around to face him within the circle of his arms. Her eyes were bright. "'Loyalty,'" she repeated. "That's what this is about." "What do you mean?" "That's what you believe I don't have. I'll admit you have good reason. I've killed one man and ruined another. But I'm trying to convince you I can still be a loyal woman." He shook his head. "You can't prove that by fucking." "How about if I ... have sex anyway you say, with any*one* you say, so long as it's in front of you?" He stared at her. "Why would you want to do that?" She shrugged. "I'm assuming you might want it. When you insisted on having anal sex, it told me something. You've been in prison for six years. It couldn't help but change you. You are less concerned now with what people might think about you. In a word, you are less inhibited. You've learned just how precarious life can be. It's made you impatient. You mean to get what you can while the getting is good. "Gerry, I'm telling you I can conform to that. I'll help you get whatever it is you want -- with only one restriction. You can't risk going back to prison." "Ha! That's exactly what I'm doing here with you right now!" She grunted. "Surely you don't think *I* would complain!" "Wouldn't you? How about the first time I do something you don't approve of? Suppose I bring another woman in here?" She shook her head. "You won't need to do that." "Why not?" "Because I'll get you one myself." "And you think that will prove your loyalty?" "Won't it?" He stared at her, took a deep breath, turned away and lifted a beer from the refrigerator. She accepted one, too, and extracted two pilsener glasses from the freezer compartment. They sat at the kitchen table and she poured both bottles. "Holly, I think it's finally time you told me what this is all about." She looked into the rising bubbles. "I want you, Gerry." "Yeah," he agreed, "that's obvious even to me. The question is, for what reason and what use?" She took a very deep breath and looked apprehensively up into his eyes. "I want to marry you." "You *what*?" His mouth fell open. She blushed and looked away from his stare. After a moment she asked stiffly, "Is it such a ridiculous idea?" "No, no." He shook his head. "Just let me get used to it, will you? You never remarried?" "No, I didn't." "What've you been *doing*, Holly?" "I told you: secretarial work. I'm an executive secretary at Bristol Industrials. Right now I'm taking vacation." "I mean, with men?" "Oh, I've had boyfriends. Men friends, I should say. Nothing serious." "What do you call 'serious?'" "Engagement. Marriage." "No fucking?" Her eyes narrowed defiantly, then softened in submission. "A lot, by some standards." "But no entanglements?" She shrugged. "None that matter. I've always been careful with the pills. And Bristol pays for regular checkups on everything." "This guy I'm going to work for: one of your lovers?" "Not him. The man who knows him. But it's not as if I'm his mistress." "No?" "We do each other favors. He's bi-sexual." He took a long pull from his glass. "Sounds like you're pretty busy." "As busy as I want to be. I should say, *wanted* to be. I've pretty much disengaged from all that. What happens next depends on you." "And you want to marry me?" "Yes, Gerry. I do." She looked intently into his eyes. He saw that hers were wet. He drew an uneasy breath. "Again I have to ask *why*! Look at me: an ex-convict on parole, a convicted felon with no future. I'm relatively young, I guess, and it seems I can make your clit tingle, but *marriage*?" He laughed harshly. "I guess I should jump on it, if you're such a fool as to want me, but, Holly ... I still have to know why." "Wait here." She got up and disappeared into the bedroom. He heard a drawer slide open. She returned with a framed photograph, five by seven, in her hand. She stood it on the table in front of him and again left the room. It was the full-figured portrait of a very young girl, standing alone in a child's bikini on the side of a swimming pool. She was well fleshed with smoothly rounded arms and legs but no secondary sexual characteristic except the line between her labia, a vertical shadow in the bikini bottom. Her below-the-shoulder hair was light brown, the same shade as Holly's, and her face had Holly's square jaw. But otherwise ... The eyes were a striking blue, even in the unenlarged photograph. Her features were unknown to Gerry but strangely familiar. She was lovely. Holly had returned. He looked up. "Your daughter?" She produced a free-standing mirror he had earlier noticed in the bathroom, aligning it to show his own face. "You mean ..." His voice trailed off. He shook his head. "You don't mean she's mine, too!" "But I do. Just look at her face beside yours! More than that, Gerry, your DNA identification is on record. She *is* your daughter, more yours than mine: a 76 per-cent allele correspondence." "'Allele?'" "The DNA analog to match-points in fingerprinting." "What's her name?" "Emily Jerry Naysmith. I gave her my maiden name. I hope to change it to Ballard." "Where is she now?" "Visiting my sister in Connecticut. She's a smart girl, Gerry, smarter than I was at five. She can fly alone." "She's beautiful!" The woman smiled. "Oh, yes!" "*Jerry*?" "I knew she was yours as soon as I saw her face. I suspected it before. I had quit the pills, hoping a baby might straighten my husband out. The ... sex with you was about the strongest I ever had. My friends tell me that's when you're most likely to conceive." "You want an ex-con for your girl's daddy?" "I want my girl's daddy to be her father. *Our* girl's." He picked up the photograph to study at close range. "This makes a difference, Holly." "I hoped it would." "You did know I was raised in an orphanage, didn't you? I have no idea of my own ancestry." "I knew. I don't see that it matters. Your ancestry is hers, whether known or not." "She'll have no grandparents on my side." "Neither did you." "Yeah, and look how I turned out!" "You do have bad luck, don't you? As I told you, Gerry, I'm hoping to make that up to you, as much as I can." He held the photograph close. "Poor kid, she's got my nose." "You have a nice, slender nose." "A bit too long. But on her it looks ..." "Insouciant." He laughed warmly. "That sounds good, whatever it means." "I think we made a very pretty child, Gerry." "Well, I sure won't disagree! A sister in Connecticut? Are your parents living?" "No. Only the older sister. Our parents died in a plane crash returning home from my wedding." "Good god, Holly!" "People whispered it was a bad omen for my marriage. They were right." "Coincidence." "You're not a mystic, Gerry?" "If you're asking whether I believe claims that can't be verified, the answer is no." Her eyes rounded in concern. "I hope you'll make one exception." "What's that?" "At least provisionally. I hope you'll believe I can be loyal to you." He looked at her sharply. "I think in a way you *have* been for most of five years." "Gerry!" she breathed. "Do you mean that?" "In a way. How many men did you fuck while I was gone?" "I ..." Her face paled. "I don't know." "More than ten?" "Ye-es." "More than 20?" "Maybe. I went to a lot of parties in five years." "Fucking parties? Orgies?" "Single women don't get invited to much else." "God! I'll bet you had a ball." "I got tired of it." "Did you? How did it work? You fucked anybody that came at you?" "Pretty much, after a few drinks. Are you really interested in this, Gerry?" "What do you think? I was lying up in my bunk whacking off and dreaming about such a life. A party every night?" "Oh, no! Two or three times a month. But I dated men, too. The first couple of years. Then it sort of shook down to a few regulars. I haven't been to a really uninhibited party in a long time." "More than 20 men, but you couldn't find *one* that suited you?" "I didn't say that. And truthfully, there were a *lot* more than 20 men. Some of them were very exciting. But none of them was the DNA-certified father of my child." "That's what I mean. You've been very loyal in your own way. It brings to mind that girl in *Kiss Me, Kate*, the long-legged dancer who sang that she was 'True to you in my fashion.'" "You like musicals?" "I've had occasion to learn something about old movies. So you waited for me for five years, got me a job and a place to stay, just so you could marry your kid's natural father -- all right, *our* kid. Does blood really mean so much to you, Holly?" The woman took a deep breath. She stood up and threw off her robe. At eye level her nipples riveted his attention. "You can analyze the sense out of any relationship, Gerry. Fundamentally between a man and a woman it comes down to this." She spread her hands and bowed her head. He stood also, took her under the arms and set her on the edge of the table, then knelt between her legs. "You sure know how to change the subject." He rubbed her belly. "You had ... Jerry naturally?" "Not by cesarean, if that's what you mean." "Practically no stretch marks, either." "Thanks. I must have used gallons of Skinslip." "I can guess what that is. I'm glad you did." "What are you doing?" "Prying you open. Does it hurt?" "N-no. Not really." "Incredible that a baby's head has been through here." "Why is it I get the impression you never looked up a woman before?" "Sexually speaking, Holly, I'm still 20 years old." "Almost a cherry, are you?" "Thanks to you." "Well, I'll resume fixing that as soon as you finish there." * * * * Later they lay on their sides in the double bed, her buttocks against him, his still partly erect penis pressing her vulva from behind. Her head rested on his outflung arm. His free hand cupped a breast. He said, "I just realized. I can't marry you. I'd have to tell my P. O." "So?" "I'm under orders not to let you so much as lay eyes on me." She giggled. "They wouldn't believe I kept my eyes closed?" "And something else. What if they get the idea we colluded somehow to kill your husband?" "We never saw each other before you rang my doorbell. Let them prove otherwise." "That reminds me. Holly, I'd like to ask you a question." "Go ahead. I have no secrets from you, Gerry." "Don't you? All right. I was originally charged with second degree murder and rape. They dropped the rape and lowered the murder to Manslaughter One. My lawyer said it was because you refused to testify. You claimed not to remember anything. Was that true?" "Yes." He grunted. "I'm always asking you, 'Why?'" "A week after ... it happened ... I missed a period. My husband had been turning hateful. He and I had screwed hardly at all, about once, since the last period. I suspected my baby was yours." She raised up and turned around, propping herself on an elbow. Her eyes sparkled in the dim glow leaking through the blinds from the distant streetlight. "And it finally penetrated what I had done to you, the man who fixed the sink I'd been nagging my husband about for six months. My conscience bothered me a lot, just not enough for the truth. At the pretrial conference I told the prosecutor I couldn't remember anything that happened that day. He said all right, he would read my grand jury testimony into the record. I guess he changed his mind. But let me ask *you* a question." "Shoot." "Why in the world did you confess to killing Bill? You never even saw him!" "My fingerprints all over the wrench -- and the blood on it that wasn't there the last time *I* saw it!" "That made you confess?" "I confessed to get six years instead of 25." "Oh, Gerry!" Her face contorted. "I did too good a job, didn't I!" She fell against him and began to kiss down his chest. She moaned nasally, pausing long enough to wail, "Oh, I do wish I could live that day over! I'm so sorry, Gerry!" She stroked his chest and side. Abruptly she swung lower and engulfed his entire penis. Her hands massaged his testicles while her tongue re-erected him. She raised her head, cheeks glittering with tears, and cried, "Except for one thing. Our Emily. If I hadn't framed you, Emily wouldn't exist. Can you forgive me for her sake?" Her head went down again without waiting for his answer. He let her proceed while he reached over and stroked the tight muscles in her back. After a while he said, "Holly, you've already got my juice twice tonight. Do you think sucking dick is some kind of penance?" She raised up. He could see only her bright eyes. "I mean to make it up to you, Gerry, any way I can." He smiled. "Well, I can't fault your start on that." She whispered, "Thank you, Gerry." "But don't kill yourself. Come up here and kiss me and lay your head on my shoulder." She obeyed and lay licking the corner of his mouth after their lips finally parted. She took a breath and said, "By many people's standards, I guess I'm a depraved woman, Gerry. I enjoy most kinds of sex and don't mind the rest. As long as it's not done just to hurt, I'm your girl. Do you want to do things to me? Are you curious about a woman's body? I'm the girl for that, too." He thought about it. "All because I was lucky enough to father a child on you?" "Isn't that good enough for a start? And Gerry, don't worry about your parole officer. I know how to handle him." "How?" "I'll write him a letter, saying that I want to invite you to dinner, that I've learned you're the father of my daughter." "You'll do that?" "Yes. Next month. Give it a little time... Gerry, will you ... try to love me just a little?" "Just a little, eh?" "Please?" He chuckled and pulled her tighter against his chest. "Didn't I already tell you? I'm a sucker for Holly Moore." "How about Holly Ballard?" "Either way. God, you feel good! Put your leg over me, will you?" "You're still hard." "I don't mind if you play with it. But this time don't take it as a challenge, huh?" He heard a smile in her voice. "Do you admit to being sleepy?" "Hell of a thing -- on my first night of freedom, too! ... Holly, thank you. I could never even imagine such sweetness as this. Somehow I think there's more to it than you've told me yet, but I don't care. If you've got another frame for me, slip it on. Let's see how I look." "You worry too much. Go to sleep, lover." But her voice conveyed her pleasure, and a hand cupped his testicles as he dozed off. [Next: Chapter 5: The Pistol] -- 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. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+