Message-ID: <46560asstr$1076361010@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: X-Originating-Email: [gmwylie98260@hotmail.com] From: "Gina Marie Wylie" X-Original-Message-ID: X-OriginalArrivalTime: 09 Feb 2004 17:54:30.0343 (UTC) FILETIME=[C45FE570:01C3EF35] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 09 Feb 2004 10:54:30 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} Tom's Diary 4-03-02 {Gina Marie Wylie} {teen, mF, mf, cons) Lines: 1539 Date: Mon, 9 Feb 2004 16:10:10 -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: hoisingr, dennyw _________________________________________________________________ Let the advanced features & services of MSN Internet Software maximize your online time. http://click.atdmt.com/AVE/go/onm00200363ave/direct/01/ <1st attachment, "Tom's_Diary_4-03-02.doc" begin> ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The following is fiction of an adult nature. If I believed in setting age limits for things, you'd have to be eighteen to read this and I'd never have bothered to write it. IMHO, if you can read and enjoy, then you're old enough to read and enjoy. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ All persons here depicted are figments of my imagination and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly a blunder on my part. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Official stuff: Story codes: teen, mf, ff, fF, inc, con. If stories like this offend you, you will offend ME if you read further and complain. Copyright 2003, by Gina Marie Wylie. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I can be reached at gmwylie98260@hothothotmail.com, at least if you remove some of the hots. All comments and reasoned discussion welcome. Below is my site on ASSTR: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gina_Marie_Wylie/www/ My stories are also posted on StoriesOnline: http://Storiesonline.net/ And on Electronic Wilderness Publishing: http:// www.ewpub.org/ ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Tom's Diary Wednesday, April 3, 2002 There may be something better than waking up next to the person you love; if there is, it's waking up with two of them next to you. I spent close to a half hour just looking at Mary and Elizabeth, each separately and both together. Elizabeth's words about our future together echoed again and again in my mind. Sure, I didn't want to commit to the future, but here it was, right in front of me. Finally, I lay back, unable to come to terms with the conflict between desire and reason. I'd stopped being a virgin less than three weeks ago; I had, since then, had more than my fair share of experience. In my heart, I knew I loved Elizabeth and Mary more than I could ever love anyone else. And yet my brain insistently whispered treason: This is the first month; what do you know of the future? Uncle Craig wanted me to be a money manager. My parents expected me to go to college; it didn't matter what I studied, I'd been told. The goal is to find something I liked and then finish my degree, Dad had told me more than once. Fine, I could do that. And if I couldn't marry Mary, I could sure get hitched to Elizabeth. Yeah, I might have a few jokes come my way about having a live-in mother-in-law but I could smile to myself and ignore them. How could I know now, today, what was going to be good for me in a year? Five? When I hit the big three-oh people talked about? Eligible for AARP? I nearly laughed out loud, glancing at Elizabeth as I did. You say you can see the future; that the future is us, the three of us, plus some unspecified number of babies. Maybe you can see the future, Elizabeth. But the rest of us can't. The answer, when I thought about it, was clear: Most people look at today, and base their plans for the future on that. I had my answer when I woke up and looked at Mary and Elizabeth. Nothing was better than this. It was up to us to make the future as happy as the present. Time, I thought, to get started on the future. I leaned close to Mary, using just the tip of my tongue to lightly tease around one of her awesomely large nipples. I'd been at it for just a few minutes when her arm snaked around my head, her fingers running through my hair. I licked her nipples harder, and Mary leaned close. "I love you, darling." Elizabeth from the far side of Mary reached over, and ran her hand along my shoulder, then kissed Mary on the neck. "You two, enjoy. I'm going to get a warm shower, then go outside and read." I smiled at Elizabeth, happy in my heart. I think I have fought all the devils I need to fight, inside my head. The devil that beset Jenny has been vanquished; the shattering hurt to Mary and her daughters assuaged. There would be time and enough for both of them. I rolled to meet Mary, my arms going around her. It was like a whole new world opened up for me. Her skin was warm and alive, and I couldn't get enough of stroking and kissing her. I rubbed my hands against her; I rubbed my body against hers. Even my legs rubbed up and down hers; I was besotted with the contact of her warm, living body against mine. It was like every inch of my body wanted to get involved with making love to Mary. I wanted to touch her, caress her, feel her warmth; I wanted to bask in the warmth that was my love for her and hers for me. Mary seemed to pick up on it. The two of us became a squirming mass of touches and kisses. She licked me places I'd never been licked, then I sent goose-bumps popping up all over her body when I danced and wiggled my tongue along the length of her spine. Then with hardly any warning, she moved and I was inside her, once again penetrating her to the depths of her womanhood. I'd been with tall women, I'd been with short women; Mary was perfect, utterly perfect. I kept pushing deep inside of her, concentrating on making each stroke an artwork, a precise statement of my love for her, to be savored for an instant, and then I would try to improve upon it. Once, early on, I felt her arms clamp down against my shoulders, and I knew she'd come. I didn't slow or speed up, but kept to a deliberate pace enjoying each delicious second as I roused her. I knew I was arousing Mary, I could feel it in her body; I loved the sensation, knowing it was me, Tom Ferguson, that was making her feel like this. For the first time, I started to vary my pace, wanting to build her up to just before her climax, then let her pause there while mine built up as well. I'd had tremendous orgasms before; making love to Elizabeth had been like being struck by lightning, going up in a spiral of fire. This was just a steady buildup that stretched my senses, clawed at my self-control. The cave man inside of me wanted to pound into Mary to gain my own release; the man who loved Mary wanted her to fly as high as the moon and stars. I pushed deep inside her one last time, pressing down on her clit as I did. Pleasure shot through me, and as tremendous as that was, I felt Mary's orgasm as well. The reflection of that added to mine and for a tumultuous second I could barely remain conscious. Then the two of us lay together, still joined. I smiled slightly to myself. I was breathing hard, but not as hard as other times. But what had just passed between Mary and I was about the best sex could possibly be. I lightly ran my fingertips languidly over Mary's back, pleased and happy. Hey future, ready or not! Here comes Tom Ferguson, the happiest guy on earth! Even so, I was unprepared a few minutes later when I felt a series of odd sensations from down below. At first I thought Mary was clenching her vaginal muscles around my erection; I was sure ready to do it again! Then I realized she was laughing. "What?" I asked curious, running my hand down and coming to rest on her bottom. "Oh, thinking about this and that." This time she did squeeze down on my cock. "Don't worry, I'm not laughing at you. "The other day, when we first came to visit your house, Ellen made me welcome; I felt so horribly guilty for using her teen-age son to build up my self-esteem. We were in the kitchen, getting snacks for everyone, and I apologized to her. "She looked me up and down, and I swear, she licked her lips. 'My son has exquisite taste,' she told me. I was a little slow to realize what she was doing, after that. Kisses, small hugs. At first I thought they were meant to be reassuring, that she was trying to tell me she didn't mind what had happened between us. "It wasn't until she kissed me and started to rub my breasts, that I realized she wanted to make love to me. "I didn't know what to do," Mary laughed again. "I felt a little hesitant with you, Tom. Not that it mattered. And the first time with Bill, I was more hesitant then, and it didn't matter. I thought with Ellen, I should take my time, be sure what I wanted..." She chuckled again. "She who hesitates around Ellen is sure to get what she wants, even if that want is buried in a secret part of her heart that she never wanted to admit existed." "Around my family," I told her, "secret wants tend to have a way of getting realized." Mary touched my face. "I know I don't have to ask, but this is still so new, and you're so good. It seems terrible to ask something like this from someone who's brought me so much joy and love... who's taken me to places sexually I never imagined existed." "You want to be with my mom," I told her, nodding. "Yes." I hugged her. "Yes," my reply was as simple as hers had been. "I'm not sure if I want to be with Dave again," she added quietly. I grinned. "A French girl told me not so long ago, that until you try something, you don't know if you'll like it or not. She didn't say anything beyond that, but it's pretty clear that if you don't like something, you shouldn't." Mary leaned down and kissed me hard, but curiously un-sexual at the same time. "Last night," she whispered, "I watched you and Elizabeth. This morning when you were kissing me on the back, I was afraid you wanted to..." I smiled at her. "Elizabeth says she can see the future. I don't pretend to do that. But there is something inside of me that doesn't let me get started if I'm not wanted. Mary, I swear to you, I never thought of that." "It seems more than a little..." "Icckie," I completed the thought. "I understand. Please, when I make love to you, to anyone, I want us to lie together afterwards, big smiles on our faces, as happy as we can be. Going someplace someone doesn't want you to go? Sounds very icckie to me!" Mary got up and headed for the shower; I did the same, but in my own room. As I was getting undressed, I saw the message light blinking on the room phone; that turned out to be a message from Tony, asking if I wanted to come over to Sue Ellen's around one in the afternoon to swim. Oh yeah, he'd moved in with her. I'd been thinking quite a bit about Tony and I decided what I'd rather do is look him in they eye, shake his hand and tell him thanks again for saving my life on Sunday. Instead of an immediate shower, I picked up the new cell phone from off the charger stand and called Tony at Sue Ellen's right then. The phone on the other end was picked up on the first ring and a very chipper Sue Ellen said, "Top of the morning to ya!" I laughed. "Top of the morning right back, Sue Ellen. Is Tony up?" Sue Ellen howled with laughter. "We talked about nick-naming you Indie Ferguson, but I'm changing my vote to Aphrodisiac Ferguson. Tony's been up for hours and hours now!" I was still trying to get my jaw off the floor when Tony came on. "Hey Tom, how are they hanging?" "Pretty good, I guess. Say, Tony, would you mind if I came by this morning? I don't know what we've got going this afternoon, but I'd like to stop in and say hello." "Sure, Sue Ellen was about to fix some breakfast. If you drive real fast, you might get some," Tony chuckled at that. "You know me, Tony. Ol' safe and steady Tom. I'll be over in a few." I showered, dressed and found that the only people up and about were Jenny and Elizabeth, sitting cross-legged next to the pool. Jenny was reading another of my dad's Economist magazines, Elizabeth a textbook. I told them I expected to be back around ten or eleven, got in my car and drove across town to Sue Ellen's. I was, it turned out, in time to catch the tail end of breakfast and Sue Ellen was happy to zap a couple of waffles in the microwave and pour me a glass of orange juice. The three of us talked about school, about Sue Ellen going back to being a cheerleader, which Tony seemed to really like. Finally, I did what I came for, shook Tony's hand. "I really didn't do anything," he told me. I smiled at him. "Like it was hard for me to give the police an address for Roger Parker? Or when Elizabeth collapsed, I had to think about what to do? No Tony, you came back for me. You've got big balls, my friend. And coming back, that's really what friends are for." Sue Ellen hugged both of us, and as I headed outside I was feeling good. Really good. I was getting right with the world. I was coming to terms with everything. I got into the Camry and started back to the hotel. I wasn't distracted; I swear. It was, literally, an eye blink. Ahead of me, the traffic light turned green; there was no one between me and the intersection. I'd been slowing for the red; I remember taking my foot off the brake... I opened my eyes. It felt odd. Everything was odd. There was no sense of movement; there were odd pressures here and there, everywhere. My eyes focused about a foot and half away from me, on black asphalt. I remember noting the light and dark pieces of gravel embedded in the dark matrix; there was a white bit to one side, with a dark mark diagonally across part of it. That's the street. My mind refused to accept I was looking at the street, just inches from my face. And the white line is some of the striping; the black mark was a skid mark. My mind leaped from there. I'd crashed! I'd hit someone in the intersection! Dear God! Had I killed someone? For the first time, I tried to move. And have never, ever, been so frustrated in my life. I could twist my upper torso about an inch, my head about six inches. I got a view of more road, a little further from my eyes; nothing else. My arms didn't move, my legs didn't move. I swallowed, felt icy prickles run up and down my spine. Very deliberately, I concentrated on my right foot. I could feel my toes wiggle; I could move my foot at the ankle. I just couldn't move my leg. I could mildly flex my knee, but just a tiny bit. My left leg, my foot could move, just not as much. There was a little more play for my knee, but not much. My hands were fine; I could flex my fingers, my wrists and elbows just fine. But move them? Nope. I heard a sound a few inches from my head. I tried to look. For the first time there was a soft giving that let my head turn. I found myself looking at someone outside the car. I frowned. He was upside down! He saw my eyes on him, I saw him lean closer, to look at me. Muffled through the window, I heard him call loudly, "This one's alive!" I tried to set my shoulders back. Those words hurt me in a way I'd never been hurt before. 'This one is alive.' That had to mean others weren't. I'd killed someone. Maybe several some ones. Inside, I shriveled and died; I felt tears running in funny directions, over my forehead instead of down my cheeks. There was a knock on the car window glass, "How badly are you hurt?" A loud voice came from outside. There was a rustle and another face appeared. The man had to be, I realized, stretched out on the pavement. Jeez, I thought, that must sting! It wasn't a really hot day, but black asphalt in Phoenix is something you avoid even in the winter! Anything to avoid thinking about the winter of despair in my heart! "Where does it hurt, son?" the voice said. With a start, I realized I recognized the voice, the cadence of his words. I tried to twist my head around to look at him better, but I still could hardly move. "You're the fireman," I told him, amazed, "The boss fireman from the other day." "Battalion Chief Denny Wheeler," he confirmed. "Where do you remember me from?" "The girl with the heart attack." "Ah!" he looked closer. "And you are Tom... I'm sorry I don't remember your last name." "Ferguson, sir. Tom Ferguson." He smiled, although it took an effort to realize that's what he was doing. "Tom, you've been in an accident. I've got help rolling, and some EMTs will be here in a minute or two. But right now you need to focus and tell me how bad you're hurt." I tried not to sound as frustrated as I felt. "I can move everything. Everything moves, I just can't move any of it very far. Weird." "Does anything hurt, Tom?" I shook my head. "I don't feel real good. I'm upside down, aren't I?" "Yes. Are you sure you're not hurting? Can you tell if you're bleeding?" "I got hit once by a hit baseball," I told him. "For a second, I thought I was okay, but then it started to hurt. Really hurt. Nothing hurts now. I don't think I'm bleeding. I don't feel anything like bleeding." "Tom, I'm going to have to go for a minute. It'll be a minute before someone can get back to you. Tom, listen real close. Stay calm, stay cool. Don't try to move, okay?" "I can't move," I repeated to him. "I understand. You have to understand too, Tom. I'll be back in a minute." He paused, I know now he was psyching himself up to give me some really bad news. "Tom, can you smell gas?" I nodded. Then it hit me. Gas. All those cars in movies and things. Exploding balls of fire. "Yes, I smell it. Go, please go. I'll be okay." If I couldn't run, he could. Should. Ran far, far away; Tom Ferguson's luck has run out. Funny how things work. 'Go, please go.' Three simple words that have made me a friend for life. He did leave, I watched him pull back, get up to his knees and move away from the car. I tried hard then, to pull myself together. Sure, I understand a whole lot more about shock now than I did right then, but I'm not sure that understanding would have made the process quicker. Once again I took stock of my body. There were a few places where things were poking me that were uncomfortable, but not truly painful. Everything still wiggled and moved fine. Just not in a larger sense. The smell of gasoline kept me from trying too hard to push the envelope. I didn't have much to look at; I did turn my head around to where it had been at first. That was another really bad moment. For the first time, I realized the hood of the Camry was missing; everything in front of me was missing. How many times had I popped the hood up to check the water and oil? Put fluid in the washer? Dad had shown me all of that when he and Mom had been teaching me to drive. It was a check mark on the 'To Do' list Mom printed up every week. And Mom had said how many times that the reason she liked the Camry was that it had a long hood? Now, quite simply, the front end of the car was gone. I turned my head back to where I'd seen the fireman, but it was hard to see anything at a distance, because the window glass was cracked and buckled. So too, I noted, was the car door, although I couldn't see much of it. Again, I was terrified that I'd fallen asleep or just hadn't been paying attention, that I'd hit someone in the intersection. I was sure, positive beyond reasonable doubt, that I'd killed someone. Ripped a living, breathing human being from life, from family and friends. I felt like sobbing, but there was nothing there; the well was dry. I just sat there, alone, grieving. Promising I would do my level best to do what I could for anyone I'd hurt. There was a sound again, and I turned back. It was the boss fireman again. "How are you doing, Tom?" "Fine, sir." I decided that it was something I had to know. Had to. "How many people did I kill?" I saw his eyes on me, saw him shake his head. "Tom, do you remember anything?" "No." I already knew the futility of trying to move my head. "I was coming up on Indian School, the light turned green. I took my foot off the brake, then I opened my eyes and I was here. Please, I won't go crazy, how many people did I hurt?" "Tom, two men robbed a bank down at Indian School and Twentieth. They were driving a Ford Explorer. Probably, from what the witnesses said, they were going about a hundred miles an hour when they came through here. They clipped the rear of your car, spun you into the oncoming traffic. They smashed into a small Civic and then turned north. The police are after them now." I tried to concentrate on what I remembered, but there was nothing. Just the light turning green, my foot coming off the brake. I'd been hit in the rear end? I tried to put it all together; I couldn't. "Tom, listen to me." I turned my attention back to him. "We have some other people we have to help first. You don't appear to be seriously injured and they are. You're going to have to wait here for a bit more, okay?" "Okay. You should go, it's not safe." I didn't feel elated at the news it wasn't my fault; disbelief was the dominant emotion at that moment, terror for those who were hurt. Concern for someone else, close to me, who should be safe. "I'll try to find someone to come stay with you, Tom. You understand why it's not safe?" "I understand." For sure, the gas smell was there, pretty heavy too. "You don't have to do anything for me." There had been sirens earlier, I'd heard them. There were more, plus loud sounds that I thought were fire trucks. Odd, I thought, really odd, how much we depend on our eyes. I had a small circumscribed world, a worldview that was distorted and shattered. I closed my eyes, wanting it all to just go away. There was a 'chunk' sound a few inches from my head. I opened my eyes and saw a policeman; again it took a second to recognize him. "Officer Moss." I saw him pull back his nightstick. "Chief Wheeler says you're okay, Tom. You sure?" I smiled. "I decided to take a nap; not much is going on." I wiggled everything again. "Nothing hurts. I can wiggle but not move." "Jeez! We took some pictures of your car. Afterwards, you can look at them." I contemplated what it meant for a policeman to look at a car and go, 'Jeez!' Maybe there are things we're not meant to know. "They've put foam down around your car; they're working on getting the scene safe to work on. The Chief says you understand that they have some other people they have to help first." "I don't know what happened, Officer Moss. I swear, I don't remember." "Tom, it's Joe. There was nothing you could have done, Tom. They were going too fast." "I just don't remember." I wasn't crying, not quite anyway. "Tom, tell me what you would have done coming up on an intersection like that?" My dad had made sure of any number of things before he thought I was ready to drive solo. Having the right habits was number one on his list. "I don't speed up until I've looked right, then left, then back ahead." "So, you look right first?" "Yeah." "Tom, do you know how far a car travels in a second at 60 miles an hour?" "No." "Almost a hundred feet. Tom, they were going at least a hundred, not sixty miles an hour. Tom, if you looked right, they'd have been three to five hundred feet away, when you looked. From that far away, it's really hard to judge speed." I've always been surprised how my mind works. I spent the next minute doing the math. Thinking about how I turned my head, how long to push down on the gas pedal. Elizabeth, I thought, would have been able to do the math in quick time; so could Jenny. For the first time, I thought about my family, my friends. I looked at Officer Moss. "What time is it?" "A little before eleven." It had been half past ten when I'd left Tony's. "Could you call my dad? Just him. Tell him what's happened? He's at work." "I can do that." I gave him the number, and for a few minutes, I was alone again. I wanted to close my eyes and rest some more; the temptation was nearly overwhelming. It was, I thought, like running away. Awake or asleep, here I was. What had I told Fleur? You deal with the things you can deal with and let those things you can't change take care of themselves. I heaved a sigh. Well, Tom, you can talk a good line. This is your chance to do what you've asked others to do. Don't run away. Officer Moss was back. "He's going to come. I told him that it's going to be the Fire Department's call if he can talk to you or not." My mind had settled, my ability to connect dots was returning. "I'm going to be here for a while," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Tom, your car is a mangled piece of junk. I saw it and wrote you off. Every fireman and cop here looks at it, and shakes their head. The human body is simply amazing, Tom. Takes a licking and keeps on ticking. "That bad?" "Oh yeah! Like I said, later, if you're up to it, I'll show you the pictures." "So what's going to happen?" "They are working to get a mother and daughter out of their car; there was a granddaughter, an infant, in there, but she's already out. Shaken, but not injured; car seats are like cocoons. Mom and grandmom, not doing so well, but they'll probably be okay." "Probably?" I asked. He sighed loud enough for me to hear. "Like I said, Tom, the human body is an amazing thing. It can take damage that you would think would surely be fatal, and then the person gets up and walks away. Other times just a minor blow and a person drops dead. I've learned not to rush to judgment about how good a shape someone is in, or how bad it is, until we get them to the hospital and the docs have a look at them." "And me?" "You? You sit here a while longer. There's enough time, they've rolled Johnnie Dugan on this. He's the best hand in the west when it comes to cutting someone loose from a wreck. He'll be here in another few minutes, then they will, very carefully, cut you out of there." I contemplated the metal all around me. The sun had been beating down on the car for some time now; it was, for the first time, a little uncomfortable. "I wouldn't mind a drink," I told Officer Moss. "It's a little warm." "We have to wait for Johnnie Dugan," he said firmly. "I know it's no fun in there, but he's a genius, Tom. Right now there's a half dozen men and two women standing around your car with foam extinguishers aimed at it. Odds are they can get a fire before it gets out of hand." "Tell them thanks," I asked him. He laughed, "Already promised them all a barbeque and beer bust." "I'll buy," I laughed. "Well, I'll buy what I can buy." He laughed too. "And we'll get Johnnie Dugan a big ol' case of scotch. Lord, that man can drink!" "Maybe I'll contribute a case of Grape Nehi, instead." We traded a few more jokes, and then Officer Moss spoke one last time. "Time for me to get out of the way, Tom. You listen to Johnnie, Tom. He's good, really good. Good luck!" A minute later, Officer Moss was replaced by a large man with sandy red hair, not at all like Mary or her daughters. "Johnnie Dugan," he said, his voice like gravel. "You're Tom." "Yes, sir," I told him. "I have a request from a cop, another from a Battalion Chief: try to get you out in one piece. Usually don't get the time of day from either. Just a 'Get it going, Dugan.'" "Sir, if you don't mind, 'Get it going.'" I said with a laugh. "It's getting warm in here." "Yeah, I imagine so. Let me explain how this works. I've got saws, crunchers, pullers, Jaws of Life, all that. The saws particularly, but all the rest too, give off sparks. Sparks aren't our friends right now. We're going to spend a few more minutes here, making it just a bit safer to work. Safer for me, anyway. You understand, that if it goes, you're in deep shit?" "Yes, sir." "First thing, I'm going to ask if you can turn your face away from the window." "I can, yes." "You do that, then I'm going to be getting this window out of the way. We'll give you a little drink, then I'll start to work." I turned my face, heard some faint noises, then crunching sounds. He used, he told me later, suction devices that pulled the glass away from me, then he carefully pulled what remained away by hand. "Okay, look back at me." I did, and he held a juice box close to my lips, and I sucked it dry in about a second. "Can't give you too much, the doc's don't like it," he said, tossing the box away. "I'm going to be explaining what I do as I work. You don't have to listen, but I like to talk. Sometimes I realize I'm doin' it wrong, and I catch a mistake. So that's why I talk. Just relax, Tom." He laughed. "Oh, when I'm done, you'll have completed Johnnie Dugan's short course on car cutting." I'd realized early on that if I wiggled my toes, my legs felt better, so I laid there, upside down, wiggling my toes and listening to Johnnie Dugan talk. I'd heard the term 'stream of consciousness' before, but I'd not really understood what it meant. After Johnnie Dugan, I knew. It was one, long continuous statement of what he was thinking. "Lessee, there's that little bugger! Ah! Got ya! Now, we get to look a little, see what's up!" "Me," I told him, "Although I appear to be upside down!" He chuckled, "Well, just so you know, don't take a piss!" "I figured," I told him. More light appeared, he'd undone the door side panel. He leaned closer, "Hmmmm. I'll be damned!" He pulled back, looked at me. "And it doesn't hurt?" "Should it hurt?" I asked, concerned. "Well, let's just say if I were you, I'd not bother with buying even one lottery ticket in your life. You already won the big jackpot, Tom. Be right back." He moved away, leaving me to watch the sunlight, just inches away. So near, yet so far. Odd, if I was in the direct sun, it would make it even more uncomfortable than it was. And yet, I love to look at it. Johnnie Dugan was back. "They're gonna take a few pictures here, Tom. Relax for a second. You're goin' in the history books here, guy!" I heard someone call his name, and he was gone again. A minute later, it was Dad, crawling down next to me. "Tom..." "Sorry about the car, Dad." "Don't even think about it. The police told me," I saw his expression. "Gosh, I was thinking I should call Ellen and Craig about this, now I'm glad I didn't." "I'm fine," I told him. "I'm really sorry about the car." "Forget it, Tom. I'm not going to be far, but they need me to move to work. You do what you're told, okay?" "Not much I can do but sit here and wiggle things," I told him. "And everything wiggles," I added, as he moved back. Then Johnnie Dugan was back, with more rambling conversation. Then, "Okay, now we're gonna take a bite out of this. Tom, listen to me." "Yes, sir." "It's Johnnie, boy. This is real important. I've got things braced so, in theory, nothing will move but what I want. If you start to feel any pressure at all, you sing out real quick. Do you understand?" "Yes, Johnnie." "It's really important, Tom. Any change in pressure, even the least little bit, you yell. Don't try to be a tough guy; don't be anything but a little baby. If something moves, you tell me! Scream at the top of your lungs!" I contemplated the car, I contemplated myself lying squinched inside the car. With complete clarity, I knew what he was concerned about. "Trust me," I said, trying hard to clear my throat, "the least thing." There was a buzzing whine, then the scream of metal cutting metal. I held my breath, every sense tuned to the slightest movement. "Okay, now I'm going to start to move it," Johnnie said. I was tempted to stick out my tongue. I thought the hard part had come and gone. I felt a tremor of movement, heard metal crunch. I checked everything again, nothing seemed to have changed. For the next five minutes, small crunches of sound, more frantic wiggles on my part. Then, the door was pulled away in a clean movement, and I was now much closer to the sunlight, just a few inches in places. Johnnie Dugan looked at me, grinned, and then started looking at the rest of me; he took his time about it, too. "Camera," he called. He took a half dozen quick shots, and then gave the camera to someone else. "I think you are probably as lucky as a person can get, Tom. I'm going to pass some straps around your shoulders, your waist and legs. I'm going to need a little help from you getting them around you. Just hang tight, and I'll have you out of there in a jiffy!" He pushed a strap beneath me, lifting my shoulders up a fraction of an inch to get it underneath me, then stood, reached over and around, pulling it up and around to lay on my chest. He moved back to another position, wiggled his fingers across my chest, got it and pulled it through. He spent a few minutes pushing and prodding pieces of metal, then went to work on my waist. That was easier; there was more room between me and the seat, more room in front of me. The last strip was the slowest, but I think he was just being careful. Then three husky men were tugging on the straps, and I was wiggling at the same time. I popped out, onto the ground, a little stunned with the abruptness. I smiled, holding out my hand to Johnnie Dugan. "Thanks," I told him, "thanks from the bottom of my heart." He rolled his eyes as we shook hands. "You just hold still, the EMTs are going to be on my case for letting you move!" He was right, two men and a woman were right there with a gurney, pushing me to lie down. I glanced back at the car. It was, I found, really easy to sit down, and then lay back. I'd known about the front of the car; but I'd never been able to see behind me. From just behind the driver's door the metal was twisted and bent, just scraps and tatters. If someone had been riding shotgun or in the back seat, they'd have been killed instantly. And looking at where I'd been, I had no idea why I hadn't been killed instantly myself. One of the men was checking my blood pressure and heartbeat; the other two were running their hands over my body, looking for injuries. The woman ran her hand from my ankle up past my knee; she didn't have to get her hand close to my groin, I came erect in a flash. She grinned, "I guess everything still works." I blushed, and the other EMTs laughed at me. Well, that worked; something worked. I deflated almost as fast as I'd risen to the moment. Dad appeared, and one of the EMTs explained to him where I was being taken. "No visible signs of trauma. We still need to have the docs look your young man over." "Wait," I said, "is Chief Wheeler still here?" He was, and I got to shake his hand and tell him thanks too. The Chief handed me a business card, and so did Johnnie Dugan. Again I was effusive in my thanks. The Chief waved at my car, at the two other cars not far away. "Just doing my job. Like before, Tom, you did yours. It's all that any of us can do. Don't forget that Tom, when you think about this. If you had panicked, if you hadn't kept your cool, it would have been very easy to hurt yourself. You did good, young man! Don't kick yourself about any of this!" Riding in an ambulance, siren or not, isn't as much fun as it's supposed to be. You can't see anything, all you do is lurch this way or that way as the ambulance cuts through traffic. I wouldn't, in fact, recommend it to anyone as a preferred way to travel. You get fairly decent service in an Emergency Room when they bring you in from an ambulance direct from a major traffic accident. Still, I had to convince them not to cut my clothes off, and they hovered anxiously as I sat up on the gurney and undressed completely. Careful examination revealed two bruises, both small. Officer Moss was just outside. The doctors finally cleared me, and we moved to another room where he talked to me for a bit, with Dad sitting just a few feet away. I felt really bad that I couldn't remember anything, but Officer Moss explained it. "It's not uncommon. In fact, it's not even a little unusual. Our minute-to-minute memories go into short-term storage, like RAM in a computer. If the lights go out abruptly, that data just vanishes, if it hasn't been saved. It's just something that happens." "Will it come back?" I asked him. He shook his head negatively. "What I need from you, Tom, is a formal statement. Of what you remembered, before and after. There is no criminal liability that you're facing; too many witnesses saw what happened. Civil liability..." He sighed. "Almost certain." "We'll deal with it," Dad told him. "Thanks, officer." Officer Moss nodded, smiled at me. "Plug your ears, Tom." I blinked, not knowing what he meant. "I talked to the detectives working on the Reese case; they're some of the best and brightest on the force. They have nothing but good things to say about Tom. Some detectives I personally think would make darn good traffic cops hate his guts. Battalion Chief Wheeler is another good guy; he has nothing but praise for your son. Johnnie Dugan? He's beyond good. He says anyone who can kid about it, tell jokes while being cut out of a wreck that should have killed him instantly, is an okay guy. "Trust me, Mr. Ferguson, you need any help in the civil things, you let one of us know. We'll help in anyway we can." Dad was about to say something, when his cell phone went off. Dad said hello, listened for a second. "Craig, just tell everyone to stay there. Call Ellen and have her pick up Mary at work and have them get over there. Tom and I are on our way, we'll be there shortly; we're just about finished here. Call Carstairs, have him come out." A pause and Dad shook his head. I was tempted to laugh; it was nice to know I wasn't the only one who did that. "This is important Craig, we need the lawyer. I'll explain it when we get there. Order out for some pizza. Lot's of pizza, some Coke. I'm starved." Dad closed the phone, nodded at Officer Moss. "My brother-in-law. I asked him to have the family get together. Some of them are getting a little concerned." Well, concern or not, it was painfully slow getting out of the hospital. Finally, we were on our way, but by then it was pushing two o'clock. Traffic didn't much cooperate, so we did get back to the hotel a little after three. We went into Mom and Dad's room, as they had a nice sitting room. It was crowded with everyone there, including a lawyer, one I didn't recognize. Plus, there was a pile of pizza boxes on one of the tables, and no matter what, that was my first stop. "David," Mom said quietly, "where have you been? Tom?" "Tom," Dad said drolly, "has lost the use of his car." I turned and stared at him in disbelief. I should have known he would jerk not only my chain, but everyone's. I remembered tag teams; I remembered a lot of things. I smiled, "I was involved in a bank robbery." "Drove into the getaway car," Dad added. The room had gone silent, then it was Elizabeth who spoke, "They'll catch them tomorrow." I nodded, I hoped they would. "And now," I told everyone, "Dad has had his little joke, and I've had mine. One person was killed, five injured. A toddler in a car seat came away with only minor bruises, just like me. It wasn't a joke at all." I've never been tackled in a football game; I was then. The next thing I knew, Mom, Mary, Shannon, Elizabeth, JR, and Jenny had me in death grips. If being tackled is anything like that, Tony can keep it. It took a while, but eventually everyone was seated again. "I apologize," Dad said, contritely. "Tom's reminded me that I'm not nearly as funny as I think I am sometimes. Tom's car was totaled. I mean, not just a little totaled, but totally totaled. The police and firemen at the scene told me to thank my lucky stars; Tom's survival was a one in a million shot. Uninjured? Flat out impossible. "Yet, here he is." I spent a few minutes giving a highly sanitized account of waking up, upside down, then getting cut out of the car. I finished with Officer Moss's statement about civil liability. After that, there was a protracted period of silence that ended with all of us looking at the lawyer. "You're concerned about the legal issues," the lawyer said. "Yes," I said, feeling sad. If it really hadn't been something I'd done, the thought that people would want to push part of the responsibility on me wasn't something I was ever going to be comfortable with. The thought that they would do it because I had money in the bank, made it more than uncomfortable. "And what did the police say? Any tickets issued?" "No," Dad told him. "They say that the robbery suspects had just held up a bank, were speeding away from the scene. At that time, there was no police pursuit, they were headed for the freeway, when they ran a red light, slammed into Tom's car, hit another car and continued on. Tom's car was spun into the oncoming traffic, involving another car. That car had three of the injured in it, although I was told the infant's injuries aren't serious. The other car the suspects hit had the fatality, and another serious injury. A father killed in front of his adult daughter." There was nothing but silence, all of us lost in our own thoughts. The lawyer stood up, looking around at us. "You are going to be sued. Part of my job is to know my clients as well as opponents. You are likely to be sued by all parties involved, their attorneys will do due diligence, learn how deep your pockets are, and go for broke." "And the odds of someone winning that suit?" Mom asked. The lawyer laughed. "Depends on how much you and they are willing to spend. Fifty-fifty." "My son's car is smashed, he had no involvement in what happened, but he's going to be sued? And stands to lose?" Mom was incredulous. "Yes," the lawyer was bluntly matter of fact. "That's exactly what's going to happen." "I don't have any money," I told him. "I don't come into my trust funds until I'm twenty-one. Four and a half years. Uncle Craig can just tear up the papers he wanted me to sign." It was Craig who shook his head. "Doesn't make any difference." "Not for a number of reasons," the lawyer agreed. "For one thing, this will drag out for years. Tom will be much older before a final judgment is reached. Even if he's still a minor when it comes down, they would attach anything like a trust fund if the verdict is in their favor. Plus, David, Ellen, you have to face the fact that you'll be a party to the suit as well. As the responsible parents of a minor driver." "Fifty-fifty?" Dad asked softly. "Aren't you guys better than that?" "Like I said, it depends on what you and they are willing to spend. Considering what's at stake, I'd expect my firm to be water boys for the varsity. Even so..." Dad held out a piece of paper to the lawyer. "This is the police case number. Why don't you go start doing the due diligence?" The lawyer nodded, his eyes flicked around the room. Dad stood watching him, and after a second the lawyer left. "We should leave too," Mary said quietly. "No!" I said instantly. "No!" my parents chorused a fraction of a second later. It was Mom who got up and went to Mary. She reached up, and stroked Mary's cheek. "You are, dear heart, always going to be welcome here. We all understand how much he hurt you. We do. We understand what you want to do, but please, this is family. Don't pull away." "This is your family's business," Mary said, standing fast. "Mary," she turned and looked at me when I spoke. "this is about something that happened to me. Please, I love you. Don't walk away now." "I don't know what I can contribute." "Love," Mom told her. I was surprised when it was all of the rest of the Ferguson's, Dad, JR, Jenny as well as me, all of us nodding vigorously when Mom spoke. I smiled at JR, and she smiled back. I found myself staring at JR. How long has it been since I made love to you? The sister that I was so eager to spend time with just a few weeks ago, what's happened? I'm busy, you're busy. We have new people in our lives. More and more I was realizing that my earlier breakneck pace through women and girls had resulted in people I cared about, that I couldn't devote the time I'd like to, to be with them. And with JR came the thought of Marsha. Two weeks; I'd written her once, she'd written me once. I'd called her on the phone once and that was it. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to come to grips with all of the emotions that were suddenly popping up. All of the women I'd made love to. Marsha, JR. Penny and Kim. Shannon, Mary and now Elizabeth. Jenny. Sue Ellen and the rest of the girls I'd been with at Sue Ellen's party, and yeah, another woman, Sonia, the fence-jumper. Tony's smile when he introduced me to Marsha; the look on JR's face the first time I went down on her. Penny coming and laying down beside me, telling me that JR and Roger hadn't stopped at oral sex. It was vertigo of the first order; the world spinning and dancing in my head. Flashes of pictures, wisps of emotions and feelings, driblets of conversations, things that I'd said, that others had said. The hotel room vanished, my family vanished, the people I loved and respected vanished. There was just a whirlwind, with me caught up in it. I realized I was swaying, but I didn't fall because there were too many eager hands close by. I don't know how long it was before I was sitting on a sofa, a cold washcloth on my forehead, surrounded by anxious family and friends. I looked up at them and smiled. "I'm okay. It's just that a lot has caught up to me, all at once." Dad sat down next to me on the couch. "I've been pretty lenient about letting you do things your own way, in your own time. Except for maybe homework and chores." "I appreciate it," I said, agreeing. "That said, now I'm going back to ogre Dad mode again. I want you to go to your room, put your head down on the pillow and rest. Sure, the doctors said you were fine, but you spent more than two hours hanging upside down today; you need some rest." I could only nod. Again, it was Elizabeth who spoke, and as usual, the unexpected. "Joanna, you should go with Tom. Be with him." I looked around the room. Mom, the woman who'd nurtured me, raised me to be the person I'd become. The woman who I'd made love to with pleasure and enjoyment. Mary, half of the love of my life, and Elizabeth next to her. The two women I wanted close to me for the rest of my life. Jenny, silent and wide-eyed, probably of all of them, the one closest to understanding what today had been like for me. I would never truly understand her life, but now I'd spent a few hours trapped and helpless; I knew how it felt for the brief time I'd been alone. Jenny, who'd stood alone, trapped and helpless for years. I'd had Chief Wheeler and Officer Moss there speaking words of reassurance and comfort, letting me know help was coming almost from the first. And JR. My eyes stopped on her, seeing the concern and worry in her eyes, remembering the feel of her mouth wrapped around my erection. The grin when she asked me if she'd done it right. I was pretty sure she'd known exactly how right she'd done it. "I'm not sure Tom needs company, tonight," Mom said quietly. "I am," I said with a smile. "I think it's only fair my little sister should get a turn at helping her big brother." "Yes!" JR came and sat on my lap, "Now and any time!" First, I had to get JR out of my lap, and then I stood up. "Thanks to all of you," I said with as much energy as I could muster. I was fading fast, and I knew it. I smiled at everyone, felt a mild curiosity about who would be with who tonight, decided that it was none of my business, and staggered off with JR in tow. I simply went into my bedroom, flopped on the bed, and was dead to the world in an instant. When I woke, day had passed and night had fallen. JR had been a busy sister, as I was now undressed and tucked into the bed, then she'd gotten undressed and had joined me, and was hugging me from behind. I lifted her fingers, kissed them gently. "You must have been really tired," JR said quietly, kissing the nape of my neck. I moved, rolling over onto my back. "I think it wouldn't hurt to get more sleep in a while. I've been pushing it." JR's hand snaked down, caressed me. "And we've all loved it... you too, of course." I smiled, and was content to simply lay there, with JR lightly running her fingers over my still flaccid penis. After a minute of that, she laughed. "You are tired, aren't you!" "Let's see. I had a late breakfast at Sue Ellen's, waffles and syrup, some juice. Another box of juice sometime after noon. Some pizza and pop when I got here. I'd say my diet was a little light today." JR giggled. "Wouldn't want you to get pudgy." "No danger of that." Her grip firmed, but that was all that firmed. After a few strokes, JR sighed. "Tom, are you really okay?" I stared up at the ceiling. "JR, I'm fine, physically. Just right now my mind is buzzing around in circles, trying to make sense out of everything. A while ago, I started thinking about Marsha, you, Penny... I didn't get very far before I realized that I've made love to too many people." She was silent for a second, then asked quietly, "Am I one of the too many?" "No. One of the problems I have right now is that there isn't a single person I've made love to that I wouldn't want to make love to again. There's not a single time I can think of where I wouldn't have done the same things as I did before. "And that's just the simple things. Mary's husband is dead. Jenny's entire family, except for her. Some father today died in a traffic accident I was in, other people were hurt, hurt badly. Me?" I remembered looking at my car, nearly fainted away again. I was breathing fast and hard, I could feel sweat pouring off my body. "I just don't understand any of this. I think I do, I talk to people like I do, but inside..." I closed my eyes, and it was like the last time I'd closed my eyes: sleep was there, without warning, to take me. I'm sure I dreamed, but I don't remember anything about the dreams. When I woke up, JR still had her hand on me, was still stroking me. "You're going to wear it out." She laughed, "I don't want you wearing it out without my having a hand in it." "I remember how happy I was when Mom said you could stay in my room. That it was okay for the two of us to make love, if that's what we wanted. Tell me true, JR. That day when you first came to my room. You wanted me, didn't you?" "Yes. Penny was doing it with Roger, Kim with Jennifer; I was getting pretty horny. Kim told me it would be all right if I was with you, that if I wanted you and you wanted me, that mattered more than if we were brother and sister. Just be careful about babies, she told me," JR chuckled. "Oh, and she told me that if I started a conversation about sex with just about anyone male, I could just about guarantee getting what I wanted." She leaned close and kissed me on the cheek. "You're not upset with me, are you?" "No, not even a little. Sometimes, I've found, it takes a push to get me moving." She kissed me again, still on the cheek. "Once you get moving, though! Gosh wow!" Gosh wow! I thought. Here I am, warm and comfortable, with someone I love stroking me; it wouldn't take much for me to roll over and make love to JR. Not much at all. Gosh wow. Then there were those people who were resting for eternity; those lying in the hospital, probably in pain. I'd seen it with Janey, when I'd visited her; I'd seen the pain Elizabeth had been in. Pain that I'd caused for Elizabeth. I looked upwards, past the ceiling of the hotel room. "Can I tell you something, JR? Something serious?" Her arm moved from my penis, to just north of my stomach, hugging me. "Sure, Tom." "Mom and Dad taught us about religion. About God. Took us to some churches, so we could see what they were like. Read to us from the Bible, told us about other books from other religions. "Always, they taught us, respect other people's beliefs, even if you don't share them. Today, JR, I've decided to disrespect those who believe in God. How can God be good, if he lets people like Sam Reese be born, go on to live and hurt people? Someone died today within feet of where I was; others were hurt. Me? I was inconvenienced, delayed; my car wrecked. But I wasn't hurt. Why? Am I better than the man who was killed? I don't know anything about him, except he had his daughter with him! Why did I live and he die? What if that woman, Yolanda, had gone to work for Dad's company, and it was Dad who ran away and got killed? Why is Dad alive and Bill Leary dead? "You and me, Jenny, Shannon and Elizabeth. Penny, Tony, Sue Ellen; all the kids we know and love. We were born, got to live; yet you and I have an older brother or sister who was killed, pulled out of Mom and killed. What did we do to deserve life, and what did that baby do to deserve death? I don't want to hear about 'God's Will' and all of that. How can God let a baby die for no reason?" "Tom," JR whispered softly, "stop for a second." It was a needful thing, I realized. I was way too worked up. "From the time I was old enough to understand anything about babies and where they come from, Mom has explained things to me. Over and over and over again. Kim spoke to Penny the same way. Mom didn't understand what she was doing, Tom. She made very sure I would understand. So has Kim, making sure Penny understands. "We're women, Tom. Most guys don't shoot blanks, they can get you pregnant. When Mom and Kim found out about Penny and me, they were pleased that we were together. Boys, we were told, should be put off as long as possible. "We're both curious, Tom. Kim wasn't happy with Penny when she started dating Roger. She didn't like Roger; she didn't like Penny doing it with Roger. Mom and Kim made us sit down and listen again to the lecture about birth control and responsibility. Penny got this shot thing that lasts three months, as soon as I have my first period, I'll get it too. "One thing Mom and Kim have made really clear: things happen, Tom. We can do all the things we have to, do them right, and it can still happen. Then we have a choice to make. It's our choice, they tell us. It's our lives, the baby's life. It's scary, Tom. I love you, I do. I love Dad. But it's scary, really scary. So I haven't been avoiding you, but I haven't been there as many times as I could have been. Penny has been avoiding you a little, too. Jenny wanted you, but she knows what's at stake and she's been really careful. None of us have been as eager as we could have been." I reached out and touched her fingers. "Thanks for telling me." JR found my lips this time. "That doesn't mean we don't want to do it with you! Oh no! Not that! Never that! But we want to be careful, okay?" "I want to be careful too." "Penny and I; we've been friends since we were babies. We tell each other things we wouldn't tell anyone else. Our secrets, our hearts." I nodded in understanding. "We've watched you these last couple of weeks. Sure, we both wanted to make love to you; me in particular. I think I've always known that buried some place inside of you was someone exceedingly special, Tom. "And now we can see how special. What you did for Jenny was really awesome, Tom. We've known her for months; none of us ever had a clue about what her life was like. Kim knew her even better; Penny told me on the phone the other day that Kim is more upset than all the rest of us, saying that she should have known. That she should have asked Jennifer more questions." "Questions like that are hard to ask," I told her. "Sure," JR agreed. "Way too hard. Which is why we never asked, but you did. And when Roger started after Shannon again, you didn't even need to ask. You just knew it was wrong and you stopped him. And you stopped Sam. Then with Shannon's Dad; gosh Tom, you knew and understood what we could do to help them, without crushing Shannon's mom. That was another wonderful thing. You do wonderful things for people, Tom." "Wonderful things?" I mused aloud. "Tell that to the people who are in the hospital tonight, to the family of the man who died. What if I'd stayed home? Decided to go this afternoon when Tony and Sue Ellen were having people over to swim?" "Don't beat yourself up over something you had no way to control," JR told me. Okay, that's what I'd told Fleur. It's what I told myself earlier today, sitting trapped and helpless, waiting for the car to burst into flames around me. Why can't I take my own advice? How many ways can you spell hypocrite? I remembered glancing around the intersection after I'd been pulled from my car. I'd seen the other cars, clearly enough; I'd driven through that intersection dozens of times by myself, hundreds of times with my parents. It was less than a mile away from the house, so I knew it. What would it have been like if I hadn't been there? That car would have hit the others even harder. Not one dead, more likely five. You could make the case, I supposed, that I'd saved lives, not killed and injured anyone. This isn't who I am, I thought. I can face and take responsibility for the things I do. Yeah, I've had a good run here, helping people. Maybe, just maybe, I don't have to feel responsible for what happened today. Maybe. In my heart, I will always have a question, though. Always. I relaxed then. It was one of those things that I would never be able to do anything about. Learn my lessons for the future; try not to dwell on the history that had taught me the lessons. And of course, my penis came instantly erect. There really does seem to be something in my head that controls that part of me. I don't pretend to understand it. Nonetheless, I laughed. "What?" JR asked. I moved her hand down to my groin. "Oh, the Tom I know and love is back!" JR squeezed me, for a second, then she squirmed around and took me in her mouth, while presenting her bare pussy to my lips. I licked and sucked, she did the same. Unlike the first time JR had gone down on me, or any of the times since, I had no staying power. I shot after just a few seconds. However, if there is one constant in the Ferguson gene line, it has to be persistence; particularly when it comes to sex. JR wasn't even slowed; swallowing my cum, continuing to use her tongue to run around the head of my cock. I might have slowed a bit when I came, but JR quickly roused my interest again; I kept on and on, licking her, pressing my tongue inside her. I wasn't exactly sure why it happened; usually I kept my eyes shut a lot when I'm making love. There had been notable exceptions; Mary in the morning, for instance. With a start, I realized those words reminded me of an LP record Dad had, a song sung by Ed Ames, called "Mary in the Morning." Why had I remembered that here and now? I ran over the lyrics in my head and knew. / And Mary's there in sunny days or stormy weather / She doesn't care `cause right or wrong the love we share, / we share together I smiled, decided that right then I should be thinking of JR. I ran my hand over her bottom, and then slid my middle finger in her, where my tongue had just been. I'd never fingered a girl from this position, couldn't help but notice my thumb was right over that other place. I tried not to think about it, but JR started rotating her hips around my finger, and my thumb moved across her anal opening as well. I wasn't certain how JR felt about it, until I realized she was also pressing back against my thumb. I pressed down a little more, and JR kept squirming. I tried a second finger inside JR, but she was just too small. That was okay, because it was pretty clear she was enjoying just the one there, and the one that now slid in to the first knuckle into her backside. "Where did you ever learn that?" JR's voice hissed, not in anger, but pleasure. I smiled; for the first time I'd come across something that they hadn't talked about between themselves. Not Penny, not Jenny. Or Elizabeth. "Just experimenting," I said, knowing it wasn't entirely a lie. "Well, I'm thinking, if you were to experiment there with this," She licked and sucked my erection, "I wouldn't have to worry about babies." I ran my free hand over the round curves of JR's butt. Oh my, yes! I wanted to experiment with that! "It's something you have to want." "Tom, I want you any way I can get you! Someday, maybe we'll be able to have enough of each other, but right now, I want you everyway I can!" It didn't take long for JR to roll on her stomach, and me to start rubbing her with my erection, It was slow pushing in; the ring of muscle around the entrance was tighter than anyone else's had been, and JR was smaller than the others too. I went slow, very slow and careful, not wanting to hurt her. Eventually the cheeks of her ass were finally pressing against my groin in all the right places. I moved in her with long slow deep strokes, savoring each moment, particularly when I was in deep, feeling her bottom against me. JR clenched the muscles in her ass; it caused an explosion in my middle as I came into her. JR grunted, I let out a long Ahhhhhhh! of pleasure. JR chuckled, "Well, it's sure different." I managed to find my voice. "Yes." I know I sounded strangled. "You really like it this way, don't you?" JR asked, squeezing her cheeks again, milking a tiny bit more cum from me. "Oh yeah!" I sighed. "Well," JR said pragmatically, "to tell you the truth, what I would like is to go take a shower, then crawl back here into bed, and have you spend the night in me." "That sounds good." Deep, deep down, I knew I was close to exhaustion, that JR or making love the way we had aside, I was close to being completely out of it. My first shower with my sister; another warm and wet experience, that I regretted having to keep short. It was followed by my sliding inside a much drier than expected JR. It took some time to get fully inside her; time we both enjoyed. Still, as soon as I was inside her, I was asleep. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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