Message-ID: <47274asstr$1081195805@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Mail-Format-Warning: No previous line for continuation: Wed Aug 14 16:30:23 2002Return-Path: X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-To: story-ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Received: from spamfilter (localhost [127.0.0.1]) by nikita-int.asstr-mirror.org (Postfix) with ESMTP id D26617BAE for ; Mon, 5 Apr 2004 12:58:38 -0400 (EDT) X-Received: from hotmail.com (bay7-f77.bay7.hotmail.com [64.4.11.77]) by nikita.asstr-mirror.org (Postfix) with ESMTP id 798F47BAD for ; Mon, 5 Apr 2004 12:58:38 -0400 (EDT) X-Received: from mail pickup service by hotmail.com with Microsoft SMTPSVC; Mon, 5 Apr 2004 09:58:39 -0700 X-Received: from 24.56.13.56 by by7fd.bay7.hotmail.msn.com with HTTP; Mon, 05 Apr 2004 16:58:38 GMT X-Originating-Email: [gmwylie98260@hotmail.com] From: "Gina Marie Wylie" X-Original-Message-ID: X-OriginalArrivalTime: 05 Apr 2004 16:58:39.0191 (UTC) FILETIME=[3E10AE70:01C41B2F] Status: O X-Keywords: ReSent-Date: Mon, 5 Apr 2004 13:31:27 -0400 (EDT) Resent-From: ASSTR Administration Resent-To: ReSent-Subject: {ASSM} Tom's Diary 4-9-02 {Gina Marie Wylie} (teen, mf, cons) ReSent-Message-ID: X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 05 Apr 2004 09:58:38 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} Tom's Diary 4-9-02 {Gina Marie Wylie} (teen, mf, cons) Lines: 1035 Date: Mon, 5 Apr 2004 16:10:05 -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 _________________________________________________________________ FREE pop-up blocking with the new MSN Toolbar - get it now! http://toolbar.msn.com/go/onm00200415ave/direct/01/ <1st attachment, "Tom's_Diary_4-09-02.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, 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 Tuesday, April 9, 2002 I woke up at my desk, around two thirty in the morning. The house was dark and quiet and I went downstairs and checked the kitchen for flaming dust bunnies, of which none were in evidence. Being there I got a drink of water from the fridge, sipped it for a minute while I contemplated the quiet and the dark. I went back to my room, climbed into bed and pretended to sleep. I wanted a dream, any kind of a dream. What I got was very short periods of sleep; I kept waking up. In fact, after a bit, it was like a metronome with a tick every twenty minutes. About a quarter of five I gave it up. Sure, I could plead sickness and probably get a day off from school. But for one of the really rare times in my life, I wasn't about to miss the day. First, I had responsibilities. I was a chauffeur. Then I was supposed to go meet Marcus Stewart-Jones and be oriented to what was on the street. I shied away from what I was afraid was the real reason I felt so off: that the thought of getting expelled, bogus reasons or not was stressing me out more than all of Jenny's, Mary's or my own problems before this had. Sam and his gun had been extremely stressful, but it was over quickly. The accident with the car had been stressful too, and while it wasn't over as quickly, I'd gotten up afterwards and carried on. What would they say if I didn't show up? Honestly, I was fairly sure the principal and the vice principal wouldn't say anything. Instead, they would nod their heads sagely and think of my absence as vindication of their take on my actions. I went ahead and got my shower before anyone else's alarm clock went off, I was dressed and in the kitchen long before any one else. I rummaged around in the pantry, found what I was looking for. Two boxes of chocolate cupcake mix. Mom liked to make things from scratch, but cakes and cupcakes were too much of a pain. Lately, in fact, such things had all but vanished from our diet; the 'use by' date on the box was April 1st, 2002. I made the double batch, putting in the first tray just as Mom came in. She sniffed the air after a few minutes and came and gave me a hug. "Lately I've sworn off chocolate. It's not my ribs every calorie seems to be sticking to these days. Probably unfair to the rest of you. Thanks, Tom." I kissed her, and in a minute we were holding and hugging each other. It was nice to feel the press of her breasts against my chest, and I responded by pressing my erection between her legs. After a few seconds she sighed and pulled away. "At your age you can just drop your plans and go spend the day in bed." I shook my head. "I have to go to school today. I don't want them to think I'm afraid." She hugged me tightly, but this time it was motherly and not sexual. "God, Tom. You're almost grown up!" "Almost," I agreed. I copped a feel through her blouse. "I still have hormones, though." "You do, you definitely do. And you're going over to Mary's tonight?" "Yes," I told her. "Which reminds me, I need to get my things together before school. I'll pick them up when I drop off JR and Jenny, but I'm going to have to hustle to get downtown by five." Actually, Central and Baseline was well south of downtown and I was going to have emulate a rocket ship to get there on time. Of course, I was ten thousand times more wary and cautious than I'd been this time last week. "And what exactly is this errand of yours?" I met her eyes. I'd not wanted to have to explain it, because I wasn't entirely sure I could. "I asked the police if I could ride along; watch them do their job," I explained to her. "They said no. I asked the fire department. They said no. Eleanor gave me the name of someone who goes out at night on the street, to help kids in trouble. I'm going to meet with him. I'm hoping to be able to spend Friday evening doing that." She was silent, looking at me steadily. I popped the first batch of cupcakes out, then slid in the second tray, and worked on getting the first tray refilled. "Just be careful, Tom," she finally told me. "Every day, in every way that I can," I assured her. "It's just that... well, I want to do something for people. I don't know what, I don't know how. Probably it won't work out, but I want to have at least looked first." She nodded. "Well, French toast this morning." She fetched eggs and stuff. Mom's French toast is really nice; and there's absolutely nothing wrong with maple syrup, either. JR was feeling better, and I got a kiss from her and another from Jenny for the cupcakes for lunch. I went to school feeling particularly good. Mr. Miller seemed to be surprised to see me, but didn't say anything. There were no notes from on high, nothing was said. I spent the morning in my usual classes, doing the same thing I usually did in school. There were times in the last few weeks, even before I met Marsha Richardson that I seriously questioned the utility of school. Uncle Craig had gotten my back up by wanting to take over home schooling. What would have happened if the proposal had come from Mom, with notice that Uncle Craig would add some insight into business and finance? I grinned to myself. Yep, Uncle Craig had blundered there. Lunch was more interesting than what lunch usually was, although I had to admit that the last few weeks had provided some interesting lunches. I was sitting, holding hands with Elizabeth, when Sue Ellen came up with a girl I didn't recognize. Actually, I didn't recognize her face, but how many girls at school had a bandaged nose, her arm in a sling, and fading bruises on her face? "Tom," Sue Ellen said as she got to the table. I stood up and held out my hand to the girl. "Dawn Driscoll. Dawn, Tom Ferguson." It was her left arm that had been wracked up; so we did a proper handshake. "Thanks, Tom," she told me. I shook my head. "It wasn't the least bit difficult, didn't require any thought at all." What had Janey said, quoting Dawn? That she was upset that the cheerleaders had offered themselves, when, if anyone should do that, it should be her. She had let my hand go, and now stood regarding me. I regarded her back. "That's really is all you want, isn't it?" Dawn's voice was soft. "That's all," I told her. "Nothing else. I'd have done it for anyone." "Janey told me about what you told her, what you did when the other cheerleaders made their offer." I shrugged. "I don't have a very good opinion of guys, you understand?" "I can understand," I told her. "A lot of that going around these days. Not all of us are bastards, though. Maybe not all that many of us, but a few rotten apples sure leave a bad taste, afterwards." She nodded gravely. "I did what I hear another girl did. I left home, moved in with a friend and her father. My parents were told by Children Services that if they continued to work on getting Keith out on bail, they'd revoke their parental rights. Tomorrow he comes out." She shook her head. "They mortgaged our house to do it. I left last week; what was the point?" "I'm sorry," I told her. "You know what my friend's father told me?" I shook my head. "He wanted to know why someone from the family, someone from school, someone, anyone at all, hadn't stepped on Keith like a bug, a long time ago." I sniffed. "The thought occurred to me, too." "It's like I told him, Tom. It gets to be a habit. You lie to yourself, you lie to others; all to pretend it's not the problem it is. Cover it up, hoping not to make it worse. Hoping not to set him off. And now... I'm pretty much an orphan. Not as much of an orphan as Jennifer Reese, but way too close for comfort. I will never, ever, shy away from telling it like it is, again." "Good," I told her. "Keith, Sam, Roger Parker. All are history. What's left for us is the future." I gave Elizabeth a grin when I said that, and she showed just the tip of her tongue between her lips. "We have to make it better." "Yeah. Well, I know I've said it before, others have said it. Thanks, Tom." "And you're welcome." I paused, remembering that Janey had said she and Dawn were close. "How's Janey?" "Grumpy." Dawn said. "She gets out of the hospital Thursday or Friday. Janey hates sleeping on her stomach; she snores she says." She grinned at me, "I could tell her she snores laying on her side, on her back..." And that, I thought, made it quite clear where Dawn was coming from, and going to. I smiled at her, she smiled at me, and she turned and walked away. "Cat's goodbye," Sue Ellen said softly. "Pardon?" I asked, not understanding. "Not a long drawn out scene. Just, bye and go. Cats usually don't bother with the goodbye, either." Oh. That was an interesting concept. I contemplated how I said goodbye to people. Was I cat? It didn't seem like I made a big deal out of saying goodbye. I contemplated being upside down. I contemplated what would have happened if I'd not been lucky. Did I really want to check out, without telling the people I love, goodbye? Then it struck me. I had gone over to Tony's. I've been going to Tony's since grade school. Even after he moved, it wasn't that far away; I rode my bike over there a million times. I left for school every day; my parents went places. Every day, we would go do our individual things, all of us. Make a big production out of saying goodbye every day? Wouldn't that cheapen and devalue the sentiment? It would sure get old fast. For me and for everyone around me. I met Sue Ellen's eyes. She looked like she was going to giggle. "I didn't expect you to go off into never-never land," she told me. "It's something I never thought about," I told her. "Now I'm wondering if it's something you could over do." She smiled. "You can overdo anything, Tom. Like you and me." We were a little ways away from everyone else, she had pitched her voice low. "Sue Ellen, it was good. But..." "Yeah," she said with emphasis. "Friends, though, right?" I told her. She reached out, and grabbed my arm with both hands, and twisted hard. "You better be!" "Uncle!" I called, "I promise!" I went back to Elizabeth, who had put her nose in a book almost the instant I'd gotten up. Tony saw her mark her place and smile at me when I sat down. "Gosh Tom, isn't it nice to know you come ahead of a book?" I put my hand on Elizabeth's and squeezed gently. "Tony, some of us are just glad to be there at the end of the day." He grinned at me, and then checked out Elizabeth. I sat back down, pulled out my lunch and handed Elizabeth one of the cupcakes. Since I made them, I'd seen fit to include a couple of extras with my lunch. She took it, and then spoke to me, deadpan. "Tom has found the secret of women, ladies. We should kill him; chocolate unlocks crossed legs and libidos." Sue Ellen reached over and grabbed my lunch bag, pulling out the other two cupcakes I had stuffed away. She took one, handed the other to Shannon, helped herself to the other. "Naw, let's just lock him away in the kitchen and promise him some quality time, anytime he makes more chocolate whatever." "Chocolate, eh?" Tony said. "I'll have to remember that." "Mom says that chocolate doesn't stick just to your ribs," I proffered. "Thighs, hips, tummy..." "Breasts?" Elizabeth said, hopefully. It was even better than the deadpan line a second before. "Gosh," Sue Ellen said, glancing down. "I hope not!" It was like I was lying in the sun, basking in the warmth. Only this was the warmth from friends and lovers. It warmed the heart; something that sun warmed skin was just a pale imitation of. When bell rang at the end of lunch, I half expected to get called to the office. Nothing had happened, so I started towards my next class. Enroute, my cell phone starting buzzing to itself on my belt. I stopped and picked up. "Bill Carstairs, Tom." "Sir," I said politely. "I thought you would get back to me sooner." He didn't seem to mind the criticism. "On your behalf, I told the school district not to undertake a personnel action against one of the school secretaries." "I don't understand," I told him. "It's a bureaucratic thing; called covering your ass. The principal decided to drop the whole suspension thing; then issued this letter of reprimand to the secretary who he'd given the job of researching what you're supposed to have done. It took some major league pressure, but they finally coughed up the secretary's original memo. It's just a simple recitation of the facts, mostly accurate. The interpretation was all this Dr. Stone's. "I told the secretary to refer the matter to her union representative. Now, like I said, that's not going to happen. The bottom line is that you are no longer under threat of suspension. Maybe someone in the district management will have a quiet talk with him, but..." "I just wanted it straightened out," I told the lawyer. "I wasn't looking to jam any one up." I was kind of proud of myself for that line; stole it from a NYPD episode I'd seen once. I don't watch much TV, but now and then I did. "That should be it, Tom. Glad we could help." I put the phone away, and then had to hustle for my first class of the afternoon. I'd not been that sleepy last night or in the morning, but after the phone call I was sleepy. It was a fight to stay awake all afternoon. I dropped JR, Jenny and Penny off first at our house, picked up my things for overnight. Then I went to Mary's house for a bit, and Elizabeth and I sat on a couch and kissed for a while. I didn't want to get too romantic, and Elizabeth just enjoyed being hugged and kissed. I enjoyed it when I could sense her getting excited and horny. Knowing that you can arouse someone; I don't know how to describe it. It's nice; a compliment to you as a person, as a lover. Is there a better compliment? I don't think so! After about a half hour I told her that I'd be back around seven and set off into the afternoon traffic for South Phoenix. I took the Squaw Peak Freeway, and the traffic going into town wasn't as bad as the surface streets had been yesterday; of course, I then had another four or five miles to go further south, but I took 16th Street, which wasn't too bad. I was expecting I'd be late; as it was, I was about twenty minutes early. I didn't want to sit in the van for that long, so I decided that if nothing else, I could wait inside. The office was set in a row of small stores. There was a beauty salon, a small restaurant, a dentist's office, and the one that I wanted. South Phoenix Youth Outreach had Venetian blinds in the windows, blinds that were closed. I opened the door and walked in. There was an area about twenty or so feet on a side, with a desk and some file cabinets in a corner. There were two doors in the back wall. One was labeled, 'Rest Room' and the other was open, showing an office beyond. The office was warmer than most offices and homes, low 80's I thought. The air was moist, too. It had been a while, I realized, since I'd been anywhere that relied on evaporative cooling. Dad had told me once that growing up in Phoenix everyone's favorite place to go in the summer was the Palms Theater, which at the time was one of the few air conditioned public places in the city. Everyone else relied on water trickled through pads, with a fan sucking in outside air that was cooled as the water in the pads evaporated. That had been more or less the standard up through the 70's and early 80's, when it started to change. A lot of people used heat pumps, which is what we had. How much would it cost, I wondered, to cool a huge place like the building I was thinking about. I made a note to myself in my mind. Look at utility costs, water, electric, gas, trash collection and be sure to put that in the memo Craig wanted. I was pretty sure he was going to be even worse than Dad had been about zoo animals left out of my survey, if I left anything out of what he wanted me to do. There was a very tall black man, talking to two much shorter, very plump black women. He was also very thin, and moved with quick, nervous energy. He was in his thirties, I thought, but he could have just been one of my hyperactive classmates from the way he moved. He'd glanced at me as I came in. I just stood still, knowing that when it was my turn, I'd be seen. One of the black women nodded and sat down at the desk, pulling a laptop out of a case I'd not seen before, because it had been behind the desk. She plugged it in and booted it up. The other woman talked for a few minutes more, then she walked past me, ignoring me. The man, Marcus Stewart-Jones, I presumed, turned and went into the office in the back. He was gone for four or five minutes, and when he came back, he had a Pepsi can in his hand. "Marcus Stewart-Jones," he said, offering me his hand, still wet and cold from the soda pop can. "Tom Ferguson." He looked me up and down, seemed to sniff in derision. "So white boy, you want to ride along and look at what's happening on the street, eh?" "Yes, sir." "It's Marcus," he growled. "That's what I want to do, Marcus." "Tell me young mister rich white kid, why would you want to do that? Is it a school assignment? Going to get some extra credit doing some volunteer work for your preppie school? Or you just want to see how the other half lives, so you can go back home and tell yourself how good you've got it?" I felt my anger start to rise, but I quelled it. I took an extra second, and then looked him in the eye. "In the last couple of weeks, I've had a chance to help a couple of people. I liked doing it. But I realized I don't have a clue what the world's really like. I've just seen a tiny, tiny bit of it." He cast his eyes upward. "Oh Lord! A do-good lookie-lou! A voyeur!" He pointed at the door. "I don't need you, rich white boy. Just take yourself back outside." "Funny," I spoke, trying hard to keep my temper, "the other day I was talking to a nice black girl who told me that the only discrimination she's had in her life was from other blacks who think because she gets good grades that makes her white. "The other day, my girlfriend had a heart attack on the street. Her heart stopped. I gave her mouth-to-mouth until the fire department arrived. I didn't hardly think it was remarkable or that it mattered at all that some of the firemen and paramedics were white, some black, and some brown. Last week I was in a car accident, the fire department and police came and rescued me. It took a couple of hours. All the colors of the rainbow on that crew, Marcus. It wasn't worth paying attention to; they were people doing their job. That's what they told me. Just doing the job. Both times, they did their job well. "I wanted to ride along with the police; I can't. I'm too young and it's too dangerous. I wanted to ride along with the firemen or paramedics. Ditto, actually, they were more emphatic about it. "All I want to do, Marcus, is ride along and see what it's like on the street. "You're right, I'm rich. My parents are wealthy. I can no more help who I was born to than you could. So what? They did a good job of keeping the sort of thing I want to see away from me, when I was growing up. Well, I wouldn't saw I'm grown up yet, but I'm old enough to see more of what the underside of life is like." He stared at me for a few minutes. "First thing, you come along, you gotta keep your mouth shut. Can you keep your mouth shut?" I nodded. It took him a second to realize that was all I was going to do. He looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. "Another thing, the most important thing. You will not be judgmental." "If I'm not talking, I should think I would be keeping my opinions to myself." "Body language, that and there are times you'll just feel like you just have to talk. That's a lot of what I do, out there. I talk. Weather, this and that. Nothing serious. I never ever, nor will you, hint, make a sound, face, grimace, whatever, that in any way disparages them or their lifestyle." It wasn't that I hadn't thought about what it was like to live on the streets, but I realized instantly I'd been looking at it from my own point of view. I'd be worried about staying warm, staying cool, staying dry. Where to pee. I would worry about being robbed, all of that. Why were kids out on the street? Really? Marcus had said it. Lifestyle. A lifestyle that they'd chosen. A shitty, horrible, icky lifestyle. Why choose it? What had Jenny said? Kill him or run away. Why choose it? Because the alternative was worse. Marcus was right, though. Jenny had had reason to run away; what about some kid who just thought he or she was being 'smothered' by their parents? Whose parents didn't like their friends, clothes, music... whatever. Would I be judgmental about someone like that? "I will keep my opinions to myself," I told him. "Well, Friday at six, here. Do not wear those white boy preppie clothes. Old jeans, holes are good. Cutoffs, raggedy ass cutoffs, that's okay too. A t-shirt, white boy; an old one. Old sneakers, ones that have been in the bottom of the closet for years." "Yes, sir." "Now, get out of here, before I forget I promised Eleanor I'd do this. You are making a mistake, white boy. What you will see will range from kids hanging, to kids so deep in shit they can't see straight. Drunk, stoned, high." "I understand," I told him. "No you don't. Now, leave." I left. I got in the van and drove and drove. I'd kept my temper; it had gotten easier to do as my conversation had gone on with Marcus. We rubbed each other the wrong way, no doubt about it. I could do anything if I had to, just for the one evening. Also, I wasn't entirely sure that the interview had been entirely what I thought. He had been contemptuous at first, and then at the end, seemed to agree to my coming along with hardly any discussion. Either I'd said something he liked, or maybe it was just a test, to see how I'd react if he dumped on me. Would Eleanor have sent me to see someone as prejudiced as Marcus seemed to be, without a word of caution to me? How much had she told Marcus about me? I decided that it wouldn't hurt to ask Eleanor. But not today, today I wanted to visit my friends and have a good time. I had not had a good time since I'd left Mary's house. Traffic was worse on the way back, and even though I'd left a little after five, it took an hour to get to Mary's. Shannon let me in, and I gave her a hug. "How are things?" I asked her. I could hear sounds coming from the kitchen, and could smell something yummy, even if I wasn't at all sure what it was. Shannon looked at me and shook her head. "There are times I look back over the last few weeks and just shake my head. I can't believe what's happened. Good, bad, good, bad... now good again. I never thought I'd like to sleep with a girl, but Joanna is..." Shannon sighed. "Gosh!" I smiled. "Yep, I've lived with JR her entire life and she still gets me like that." I'd told Shannon why JR hadn't been at school on Monday, she'd asked and I'd told her. Maybe, for a few minutes, I was a little nervous about that, because I could only remember once before when someone had said a particular girl was having her period, and that had been JR telling me about Penny. Shannon had just nodded as if it made all the sense in the world, and had called JR as soon as she got home from school, Monday night. I was chasing after things that could wait, I thought. I made a mental note to talk to JR about what the rules were about talking to other people about things like a woman's period. I was sure women had a raft of things like that, that maybe they'd just as soon not have public knowledge. Mary and Elizabeth came out of the kitchen, and Mary came right up to me and kissed me. She was wearing the same sort of outfit as when I'd first seen her, jeans and a blouse, tied across her stomach. She was just as stunning, as beautiful as that first time, and I kissed her with as much passion as I could. Then it was Elizabeth's turn. In a way, she was completely different than what I first remembered her. She dressed much more conservatively than Mary, but she now had a smile on her face, at least when I was around. And she too was radiantly beautiful. And when I kissed Elizabeth, she was aggressive, sticking her tongue into my mouth, running her hands over my back and bottom, pulling me against her. "Dinner will be soon," Shannon reminded her sister. We all laughed at that and Elizabeth and I pulled apart. "Since you came into our lives," Mary said, putting a lilting emphasis on the word 'came', an emphasis that resulted in more laughter. "All sorts of things have changed. I won't say I was an indifferent cook before, but I'd gotten stuck in a rut of doing the same things, because they were relatively easy, and why not? "Since I met you, and particularly Ellen, my horizons have been broadened in all sorts of ways. So, I got out my cookbook, and Elizabeth and I have been experimenting. We hope you and Shannon, as guinea pigs, will find the experiment worth while." "Oh, ick!" Shannon said, "Test animals!" "What are you going to test on us?" I asked, curious. "I made gazpacho soup," Elizabeth said proudly. "If you can call something soup that doesn't get heated, and is served cold from the refrigerator." "And I made pork chops, sauted in butter, mushrooms and garlic. I don't know about anything else, but dinner smells heavenly." I thought it did too, and told them. "You forgot flowers," Shannon announced. Dj vu all over again, as Yogi Berra would say. Last night it had been JR's period pointing out to me that I'd gotten too casual about a very important thing. Today, I hadn't brought flowers. I looked at the clock, it was six thirty. "Since I didn't promise to be here until seven, I'm going to rewind the clock. Back in a second." I dashed out to the store and indeed got a nice basket of flowers, while adding to my mental list in huge letters, PAY ATTENTION TO LITTLE THINGS... they're not, not really. When I came back, the greetings were recapitulated, which was it's own reward. That reward was followed by a nice dinner; everything that the first dinner that I'd had with the three of them hadn't been. The conversation was light-hearted, puns and short, funny anecdotes. Elizabeth was a careful observer of people. All her life people had thought she was a loner, quiet and shy, wrapped up in her own pursuits. It seemed to me that Elizabeth was all of that, but more. Her main interest in life was mathematics; her next big interest was why people did things. I'd thought about that a time or two myself, although usually I'd scratch my head, shrug and mutter something about different strokes for different folks. But, in the last few weeks I'd extended my baseline of people I'd met by a considerable amount. And my relationships with the people I'd met had frequently been accompanied by very heart felt conversations about a lot of important things in their lives and mine. Still, because the conversation was light, there were quite a few places we didn't go. Then dinner was over and we all helped clean up. I realized from overheard comments that in the past clean up after dinner had been something that Shannon and Elizabeth had been doing, one at a time, for a week at a time. They had seen how Mom had organized things at our house and had realized something Mom had made a point of for as long as I could remember: chores suck. However, if you have to do something that sucks, it sure helps to know that there is someone standing next to you, doing the same chore, or one very much like it. Maybe Mom or Dad might not be helping with the dishes, but in a day or two, they would be. Once Dad had commented that the only things that Mom couldn't make a spreadsheet do was the chores themselves, and walk the dog. The next day, the computer started barking, whenever you looked at the to-do list. Mom is cool, no doubt about it. But the truth was important: no one was exempt, and if someone was doing a chore, most likely everyone else was doing a chore too. Neither Mary or her husband had done dishes for years; Shannon and Elizabeth had also had more than their fair share of other cleanup chores to do too. Bill Leary had mowed the grass, taken on the garbage and a few other things; but that had been it. Mary had done a little more, but Shannon and Elizabeth had born the brunt of the work. They agreed with Mom: chores suck, but if someone else is with you, helping, it goes down a lot easier. And if no one is exempt, well, that's another thing you can't complain about it. It was another way to say what I'd been thinking earlier; little things are important. After dinner and dishes, Elizabeth looked me right in the eye. "I know what I'd most like to do." "I'd like to do that myself," I said, a trifle smug. Elizabeth was getting much better at zingers, I learned. "You like math too?" "Ah, no." "Well, I'm going to study for a while. Shannon's going to practice." "I'm going to read a book on accounting," Mary interjected. I nodded, not minding at all. "I haven't left the house without a book to read or homework to do since I was too little to remember anything." I did have a little homework to do, and I did it. Then I read ahead in my American history book. Around nine thirty Elizabeth put down the book she was working out of, which was, I was sure, a college calculus text book, smiled, and vanished into the bathroom. I let my eyes rest on Mary. I hoped I would never get to the point in my life that Bill Leary had reached, where he couldn't see the wonderful, beautiful people around me. She met my eyes, her eyes gray and laughing, as I loved to see them. "I'd asked Ellen to come tonight too, but she's indisposed." I nodded; JR had explained it, sort of. "Saturday night, she tells me, she won't be indisposed." Mary's smile was enough to light up any room. "So my thought was that tonight you and I would be together, and you and Elizabeth could have the weekend." That sounded like a plan, and I nodded. "Except, Elizabeth says that like as not, she'll be indisposed this weekend. So... I'm going to sleep by myself tonight, and have a surfeit this weekend." She came close and we kissed, and after a little of that, I cupped both her breasts with my hands. She sighed, and kissed harder. When we pulled apart both of us were breathing hard, I was as hard a rock and Mary's eyes were glowing. Once again, I was in a quandary. In every rational world, I'd now take Mary by the hand and we'd start making serious love in her bed. Instead, in a few moments Elizabeth would be back and I'd be going to her bed and making mad, passionate love to her. Then I realized that in most people's definition of a rational world, I wouldn't be lusting after a woman almost the same age as my mother. I would be content with one. Elizabeth was a young woman any rational person could be content with. Seeing the future? What of it? She was a beautiful person, with a wonderful mind. What could anyone reasonably want beyond that? Mary leaned close and kissed me on the forehead. "I'm detecting signs of thinking in there." "Yeah," I replied, wishing I could be more sure of myself. "Tom, Elizabeth and I talked. Oh, how we've talked! You've taught us both something important here in the last few weeks. There's more than one reason to have sex. Oh, the Catholic Church I was raised in says not, but I have a lot of other problems with church doctrine besides that. Sex is for making babies. Sex is for having a good time, letting your hormones romp. And if the two people making love want that joy, if they aren't out to hurt each other or anyone else, then I'm all for it! Sex is for healing, Tom. I expect it's also a good aerobic workout. "All sorts of things. Too many people have spent too much time trying to tell other people what it means to them, and not interested in how anyone else sees it. You're comfortable with sex, Tom. And now, so am I. Once an hour, once a day, once a week; I love it all. I am looking forward to the weekend, Tom. There was a time that I was content to reach the end of the day and happy to go to bed by myself. This is better, trust me." "You'd think," I said a little nervous, "that with something I started to do, then went and did to a fare thee well, that I would be more comfortable with it." "You love us, Tom. You want to keep us all happy, all of the time. You can't, Tom. You have a life; we have our lives. We couldn't, shouldn't, live our lives together twenty-four seven." I nodded at that. Then Elizabeth was there, wearing nothing but a smile, and tugging on my hand. I blew a kiss at Mary, and went where I was more than happy to go, even if I wasn't sure how right it was. Elizabeth undid my shirt, while I undid my jeans and kicked them all away. She pushed me down on her bed, and straddled me, her knees up around my head. I smiled, blew on her thin pussy hair, and kissed her pussy lips, running my tongue through them, finding her clit at the end of the stroke. Elizabeth sighed, "Like that! Like that, Tom!" So, I did some more like that. And a lot more. I blew lightly on her, I used my tongue, I stroked with my fingers. I even used my nose to trace little lines on her inner thighs. Then I slid a finger inside her, moving it around in her vagina. She was moist, and grew more so as I rubbed inside her. "Use two fingers," she breathed, and I did. It was all I could do, though, not to laugh. Where had Elizabeth heard those words? In a dream? Or from Jenny? "You're awfully small and tight," I murmured, "I don't want to hurt you." That reminded me of something I had to do, and I shifted, sliding her a little down my chest. "Elizabeth, about birth control?" She looked at me, and shook her head. "Tom, it's something I took care of before I ever went to bed with you. It's one thing to think you know what's going to happen, but I'm pretty sure you can change some of it by doing things different. There will be plenty of time for kids, I promise. And I will have yours." "JR took me by surprise," I admitted. "What do you mean?" she asked. I was used to Elizabeth knowing everything. "She's having her first ever period this week," I told her. I could see Elizabeth's eyes furrow. She didn't understand; I thought that remarkable, but I added, "JR saw what I was doing, and while she didn't cast her nets as far and wide, she did sow some wild oats. And since she hadn't had a period yet, it was unprotected sex. All of it." I paused, then shrugged, "except with her girlfriends." "Oh!" Elizabeth sighed, and moved to lie down next to me. "I can see why that's caused a stir. I wasn't sure what it was." "I thought you knew everything?" I was half-joking, not sure exactly what I meant. "Tom, be real! I'm fourteen years old! There hasn't been time for me to see all of my own life, not to mention the lives of everyone else. Little bits and pieces; some things I suspect are important, some that probably aren't. Sometimes I can see why they are important, but other times it's like coming in during the middle of a movie, watching for a few minutes, then getting up and leaving. Even if you'd heard someone describe the movie generally, you really haven't seen enough of it to be sure about very much. "Combine that with not being sure of anything... well, trust me, Tom, I don't know everything and I don't want to. It's as much a curse as a blessing, that's for sure. You just don't know; I don't know." I reached out, and laid my hand on one of her small breasts. "We didn't have dessert tonight, so, I'll have to nibble a little something, if you don't mind. Because I'm really, really hungry." I leaned close and licked her nipple, then circled round it, leaving saliva tracks all over her breast. Then I did it to her other breast. I set down to some serious kissing on her breasts, while my hand moved down over her stomach. Every woman I'd made love to, everyone, it seemed to me, I'd gotten off just touching them. Feeling the warmth of their skin, the muscles just underneath, the fine downy hair of stomachs and chests. Sensing a woman becoming aroused was just plain a good thing. I loved it. When Elizabeth wrapped her hand around my penis, it grew in her hand. I hoped it was as sexy for her as it felt for me, because it felt really, really good. I wasn't surprised that I'd gone limp; thinking about the close call with JR did that very effectively. But I was glad I hadn't gotten hard again until Elizabeth had her hand on me. "Tom," Elizabeth spoke, her voice tight. "Elizabeth, my love, I hope this is as nice for you as it is for me." She laughed, although she sounded a little hoarse. "Tom, if it was much better, I'd be a jelly spot on the bed. Tom, make love to me! Please! Now!" Since I had been making love to her, and since she was lightly tugging on my erection I decided that she wanted me in her. And I was right. I rolled on top; she spread her legs, helping me push inside her. She'd been moist before, now she was really wet. She heaved with her hips, clawing at my ass as she lifted against me. She shuddered, and came. "Again!" she cried, "Don't stop! Fast!" I started stroking into her, and this time Elizabeth was the fire. She seemed beyond horny, beyond reason; just wanting to be made love to. She came another time a minute later, as I was pushing deep into her and then again a short time later. Each orgasm seemed to make her uninhibited, more eager. I'd not made love to Elizabeth very much, and this time was as different from the times before as it could be. But there was no doubt in my mind what Elizabeth wanted, and I wanted it to. I moved faster and faster, my hips slapping against her. She was very wet, and there were loud sucking and squishing sounds as I moved in and out. It would have been gross if I'd been thinking about it; it would have made me laugh at other times. Now I was as wrapped up in making Elizabeth come, as she was it having me in her. It was too intense for either of us to last very long. She clamped down hard, closing her legs, squeezing me with her vagina. I came, an explosion that rocked me, leaving my ears ringing. I didn't fall asleep, but it was close. I felt Elizabeth push, and I pulled away and lay down next to her. She wrapped her arm around me, put her head on my chest and started nibbling on my cheek. "Thanks, Tom," she whispered. "Oh, Elizabeth," I laughed, "thank you!" I told her with all the emphasis I could muster. She giggled and I put my arm around her shoulder and hugged. "That was nice," "That was me hornier than I can ever remember being before," she told me. "I don't know what came over me. I felt this ache inside of me, and I knew you could fix it. And I didn't care what you did to fix it." She grinned at me. "In fact, I think you just gave me a taste of something I didn't understand before." "What?" I asked her. "Unrequited hormones. Common wisdom says you guys have this all the time. In which case I understand why guys can lose it." I figured she was talking about the Sam-Roger-Keith axis. "Well, I don't understand losing it completely. Not with someone I wasn't sure wanted to be with me." She kissed me again. "I know; I guess I'm being unfair, because I know you're like that." Elizabeth smiled at me. "When we've made love before, it's been so beautiful. It was something I'd imagined in my head, everything great and wonderful and beautiful and good." She paused and giggled. "I'm running on. It wasn't all cerebral, but I spent a lot of time in my own head. This time, I just wanted you, needed you." "I won't get too far away, not any more. You know what I'm doing tomorrow?" "Looking for a place for all of us to live. Oh, Tom, it's going to be so beautiful, it..." She suddenly stopped talking, clapping her hand over her mouth. "I shouldn't talk about it. It will be wonderful." "I hope so," I told her. "We should get some sleep, tomorrow will be here before we know it." "An hour and ten minutes, according to the alarm clock," Elizabeth agreed. I chuckled. "What, it was so boring, you're watching the clock?" She gave me a mock punch on my arm. "No, silly. If we get some sleep, we can wake up early and do this again." Now that sounded like a plan to me! <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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