(ASS) Marie Chapter 13 part two of four parts
FRIAR DAVE
I loved sucking him off, even more than I liked him eating me out.
Sometimes I'd cum two or three times while I sucked him and then again
when he came in my mouth. I experimented with his cock in my mouth,
trying to see how much I could make him cum at once. That was when I
learned about massaging the prostate. I slid my finger up his butt --
this was when we hadn't seen each other for almost a week -- and I
thought someone had uncorked a hose in my mouth. He must have cum for
a solid 30 seconds. What a gusher!
We tried tit fucking and discovered that it was no big thrill. We
tried vibrators and discovered that it was a big thrill -- but the
noise was distracting. We talked about getting another girl to join
us, but neither of us wanted to share the other with anyone like that.
We tried butt fucking. To my astonishment, once he got inside me, that
big prick felt really, really good. Once it was all the way inside, I
came just about with every one of his slow, careful strokes. After he
came in my ass, though, I'd have to hurry into the bathroom and attend
to business, if you know what I mean.
It was a shame we weren't more compatible in other ways, but --
especially when school started -- the great fucking was enough. And
neither of us ever tried to pretend or make it anything beyond that.
I guess we would have gone on like that for a much longer time if I
hadn't showed up at his place one afternoon without warning and found
him and one of his roommates sucking each other's cock.
I was shocked and disgusted, and I should not have been. I mean, I'd
been getting it on with girls and women, and I knew there were queers
-- sorry, "gay" -- guys. And it was the era of Free Love and all.
But it really grossed me out for some reason. There was Joey, with his
dick in Gary's mouth, and there was Gary's gorgeous cock balls-deep in
Joey's face.
What put me over the edge was Gary seeing me and not even saying a
word, just staring at me. His eyes were glazed with pleasure while
Joey drank his load.
Sure, he tried to explain that he went both ways, and it shouldn't
change anything between us. But I was 14, and I just couldn't handle
it. All the chemistry I'd felt for him went flat.
But school was under way, and my sex drive was reignited. I went out
with a bunch of guys and fucked some of them, and I fucked a couple of
teachers. I got to be real good friends with Laura, this girl I'd sort
of had a nodding acquaintance with since grade school, and sometime
around Christmas discovered she was bisexual, too. Eventually, we were
monogamous, which lasted well into the next June. Then her family
moved to Arizona. We vowed to stay in touch. We exchanged a few
letters, and then she wrote about a guy she'd met. The letters kind of
petered out.
My Phantom Stepbrother came to visit for a week. He'd let his student
deferment lapse, as I'd feared, but he'd gotten a very high number in
the draft lottery. I was so relieved at this that I could almost offer
prayers of thanks. He was relieved, too. He'd also taken a full-time
job and was going to class at night. I did my best to tease him, even
"accidentally" stepping into his room when I wearing nothing but a
towel. He just shook his head and sighed and told me nothing had
changed except I was sexier.
The one time we talked at any length, he told me he was not involved
with anyone and hardly even dated. "I've got my life under control,
and I'm never letting romance screw it up for me again," he said.
I didn't expect that to last long, and it didn't. He needed sex and
love just as much as I did. I had found a happy balance, dating
around, fucking around. I had mostly outgrown my phase of getting into
wild fucking parties -- except for the time I went home with a guy I
picked up. Then I got really stoned on mescaline and fucked him and
all four of his house mates all night long. However, I did get the
clap from one (or more) of them, and I swore off the gangbangs
forever. Hah.
To my astonishment, that Thanksgiving, who should show up for a visit
but -- my Phantom Stepbrother.
The bad news came when he introduced his fiance, a girl from the area
who'd met him while she was visiting New York. I think she and I hid
our surprise rather well. For one thing, she was only two years older
than me, 17. For another, the last time I'd seen her she was being
filmed getting fucked by the biggest cock I'd ever seen in my life
while she was utterly ripped out of her skull.
It was Bonnie.
I kept my mouth shut. It was obvious that Dan was head-over-heels in
love with her, and she was -- well, she clearly liked him a lot. And
there was also quite clearly a sexual chemistry between them, just
like there had been with Gary and me. Their hands were all over each
other whenever they thought they were unobserved, and the night after
Thanksgiving, I caught them imitating rabbits in the darkened living
room. I was too worried about Dan to be more than a little jealous.
Of course, as soon as he'd gone back to New York, I got her on the
phone, and we had a chat. She was glad I hadn't said anything, because
she didn't want him to find out about her past. She'd changed, she
swore, and wasn't going back to her old ways. I really wanted to
believe her -- too much -- and knew he had to find out from her or he
wouldn't have a chance. I tried to put it out of my head.
That was made easier by Mark. We'd seen each other a few times, but
nothing special had ever happened. Oh, sure, there was some physical
attraction, but he was too quiet and low-key to turn me on the way
other guys did. He liked stuff like concerts and the occasional play.
He liked serious movies, especially French films, and listened to
classical music half the time. He managed a small restaurant.
But we went out one night a few weeks after Thanksgiving, and he
managed to get the whole sordid story about Bonnie and me and Dan. We
got closer and closer and just sort of found ourselves together almost
all of the time.
We did a lot of stuff together. No, not just fucking. We traveled,
spending a weekend in Chicago or New Orleans, even going to Los
Angeles for five days. Gradually, I learned that it was not
coincidence that Mark always had a lot more cash than the restaurant
could provide and always seemed to have plenty of grass, hash, coke,
pills and hallucinogenic drugs.
But I didn't care about that. I was having fun, going places and
meeting people. Mark always bought me nice things and always treated
me well. I was 15, and already I had a perfect life. Oh, sure, Mom and
Dad went through the roof the first time we went away together. And
then, again, when I told them I was dropping out of school.
But what did I need school for? I was 15 and already was the envy of
every woman who saw me. Mark was good-looking, had plenty of money and
was always generous with me. I wore beautiful clothes, had my hair
done at the best salon.
The sex was great. Mark was no stud, but he was an expert. He knew how
to use his hands and lips. He knew how to use the toys I selected from
catalogs. He knew when I wanted him to be a little rough and when I
wanted it slow and gentle. Sometimes we would pick up a woman and take
her to bed with us. We'd all get stoned on his array of drugs, and
we'd fuck and suck for hours. When we were in Houston we picked up a
ravishing redhead, and none of us left the hotel room for three days.
Another time, one of the guys he was meeting was really a hunk. Mark
told me to go and enjoy myself -- and even gave me some PCPA. I did
the guy and two of his associates for a day and a night...and Mark
welcomed me back with open arms.
That winter was a busy one. Dan married Bonnie. St. Alexis divorced
her husband when he suggested joining a swapping group. Jeanne got
pregnant and got an abortion.
But as the cold Ohio winter finally relaxed into a warm Ohio spring,
Mark and I were falling in love. We were starting to talk about what a
home should be like, and sometimes we talked about how kids should --
and should not -- be raised. He'd met my family and confessed he
didn't really care for them, which was more than amply returned: After
our first weekend together, he wasn't even allowed to park in the
driveway. I had to go out to the street to his car. He did want to
meet Dan, though.
Mark started looking for ways to get out of his main cash business,
and he was finding that it wasn't as easy as saying "I quit." The
people whose merchandise he distributed at wholesale didn't want him
to get out of the business; once he left, he no longer shared the
penalties they did, and he might be willing to deal with the law for
immunity. And he did want out, since we agreed that our kids shouldn't
grow up around the same drugs whose sale to kids had financed so much
of our fun.
That summer, Dan found out about Bonnie. He saw some of the pictures
from the party fuck -- in a magazine! -- and mentioned them to her.
But that wasn't what did it. That had been in the past, and he'd
already known she was pretty wild before they met.
No, what did it was when they had a housewarming party in their new
apartment, and Bonnie got stoned and fucked some of their new
neighbors. He didn't make a scene but approached her the next day.
They needed to talk about this, he said. She declared that no, she was
not going to promise anything. It was too much fun to deny herself
those pleasures -- drugs and sex -- and if he didn't like it, she'd
leave. He didn't like it. She left.
By the time we got to New York that fall -- October of '71 -- Dan was
almost rational again. I'd already confessed to Mark my unrequited
desire for Dan, and he told me to indulge myself, if that was what I
really wanted; he would still be there for me. Considering that Dan
was the only man who could have taken me away from Mark by then -- and
Mark knew it -- that only increased my love for Mark.
I really had my trap laid for Dan, this time. At 16, I was an inch
over five feet tall. My hair reached almost halfway down my back. My
measurements had finally stabilized at 34-21-32. I wore DD cup bras,
custom-made because of my narrow back. I worked out at least three
times a week at a private club and swam almost every day. To this day,
I can look at photographs of me from that time and see what a
beautiful girl I was. Young woman, really; no one ever questioned my
age when we went out. I was sexy, too, and smoldering with the perfect
tan I got under the sunlamps. I wished my legs were longer, but a pair
of high heels gave me all the illusion I needed there.
Mark had business the first afternoon, Saturday. He checked us in at
the Plaza and left for his meeting. I dressed to kill. Under the fur
coat, I was wearing a black minidress, tight and cut low. I wore black
stockings and black heels. I had a red silk scarf. I spent 40 minutes
applying my makeup in the hotel room.
I took a cab to the Village, to the restaurant where I was to meet
Dan. I remember looking out the window of the cab at the busy
sidewalks in the late afternoon. No matter what happened with Dan, I
knew I could never live in New York -- or leave Mark. I knew what his
business was. He was pleading with the top drug guys to just let him
walk away from it and start a new life.
Dan was wearing dark slacks, a black turtleneck sweater and a Harris
tweed jacket. He'd grown a beard. He looked awful; he looked great. I
gave him a quick kiss on the cheek in the cold October air, and then,
when we were inside the restaurant, and I'd checked my coat, I threw
my arms around him and gave him a big kiss.
I'd originally planned to give him the kind of kiss I'd ached to share
with him for so long, but I was too overcome with joy at seeing him --
and, somehow, relief. Dan was here. Dan would take care of everything.
Dan would make everything okay.
We chatted. I had lobster, and Dan picked at his chicken dijon.
Finally, he said what I hadn't wanted to hear.
"I know about some of the things you did."
I swallowed my morsel of lobster, dabbed at my lips and reached for my
wine. My fingers were trembling. "Oh? Bonnie told you?"
"I asked her. I saw some of the pictures from that party, remember?"
I hadn't realized it until that very moment, and it hit me hard. I
drained my glass.
"What did you ask her?"
"It doesn't matter. I asked until she told me everything. When did you
start?"
So I told him, all of it -- well, not all of it. I didn't tell him
about the first time.
[Very soon, I promise.]
I told him about the neighborhood boys, and the ones I could remember
from school. I told him about Roger and about Kelly's Island. I told
him about watching him with our little cousin Irene and with my former
best friend. I told him about the fuck parties and the gangbangs and
women. I didn't tell him about Jeanne.
When I finished, he said, "So it wasn't so much that you were after me
-- you were after just about everybody."
I reached across the table and took his hand. "Dan, you have to
believe this. I was after a lot of people, a lot of kicks -- but I
specifically wanted you."
"Why?"
The question stunned me. Why, indeed? Because he was so different from
the rest of the people around me? Because he was kind and smart? Maybe
just because he refused me?
"Just -- I honestly don't know." I poured myself some wine. "I want to
know something."
He nodded. He gave up trying to eat and lit a cigarette.
"If you had known some of the things I was doing, would you have --
surrendered?"
He grinned at that. "'Surrendered'?" He shook his head after a moment,
very slowly. "I don't think so. There was going to be a time when we'd
really need to talk, and that would have gotten in the way."
"Something else?"
I think he sensed what it was. He didn't answer but I asked anyhow.
"Did I ever turn you on?"
He spoke very slowly. "You can not imagine how much I have wanted you,
really wanted you, or for how long."
"Do I still?"
"Of course you do," he snapped, as if annoyed. "I'm male, I'm
straight, and I'm alive. You're gorgeous and exude sex, and you know
it. Hell, if you lean over one more time, I'm probably going to make a
mess in my pants."
I licked my lips. "I still want you."
"What about Mark?"
"He knows. It's okay with him."
Dan looked skeptical. "I don't think it's a good idea, Marie."
I could hear the control in his voice -- tight, iron-fisted. I wanted
him more, at that moment, than I ever had before. I withdrew my hand
from his, afraid I was going to cum if he so much as stroked my wrist.
"Alright," I said. "I don't understand it all, but -- "
"Good enough. Shall we get a check?"
I checked my watch. "No, no -- Mark will be here in 20 minutes."
He frowned. "What if I had 'surrendered'?"
"Then when Mark got here, and we weren't waiting for him, he'd know
what we were doing."
"And spend the night in a bar?"
I shook my head. "No, he got a separate room at the hotel. If we were
gone when he got here, he was going to stay in the other room and
leave the suite to us."
Dan nodded thoughtfully. "I have the feeling he loves you an awful
lot."
"And I love him an awful lot. And he knows it. He thinks that if I do
get you in bed, maybe I'll get it out of my system."
"Or maybe not. Maybe we'd be wild for each other."
I half-suspected he was right. I stayed calm, taking my cigarettes
from my bag and lighting one. His eyes widened at that.
"Oh, yeah, for a while." I waved the cigarette airily.
We chatted a bit about his work, his nonexistent love life -- but
mostly, he wanted to tell me how important it was that I finish my
education.
Mark showed up. He was expert at sizing a person up on first sight,
and I was not surprised that he immediately liked and trusted Dan.
Dan, of course, was a lousy judge of character -- witness Bonnie --
but I could see that the mind was at work. He remained careful, but
not at all unfriendly as Mark ordered and quickly ate a light dinner.
Of course, one thing Dan was excellent at was drawing a person out.
Mark wanted to be drawn out, too -- but not too much. Eventually, he
was telling Dan much more than even I knew about his business and his
desire to leave it...and that it was very difficult to just walk away
from it.
My heart fell at that. I knew then that Mark's plea to the top bosses
had been denied. He was in the business for life.
We went to the Lion's Head later for some drinks. We all got to know
each other better, and I learned things about Dan I'd never suspected.
I hadn't known he'd been beat up by classmates for bringing a black
girl to a dance. I didn't know he'd been stabbed helping a woman stop
her husband from hitting their little boy.
But I could not stop worrying about Mark and me and pleaded that I had
a headache. Dan and Mark shook hands.
Mark and I didn't exchange a word in the cab back to the Plaza. when
we got to our room, he turned and smiled at me. "I'm glad we're
together tonight." We smoked some grass and made love, very slowly and
then again, very urgently, passionately. Mark ordered some wine from
room service. I got very weary, suddenly, and fell asleep in his arms.
I woke up alone.
All of his clothes and cases were gone. All of mine were there -- and
with them, an airline ticket and an envelope. Inside the envelope was
$2,000 in various bills. The desk said he'd left, and the room was
covered by his credit card for all expenses until the following
Tuesday, which was when my flight left.
I understood that he'd slipped something into the wine. I knew what he
was doing and why. I was numb. I dressed and went out. I walked all
over Manhattan. I went to a museum, but I don't remember anything
about it. I sat on a bench in front of a statue until it began to
rain. I went back to the hotel and fell asleep, fully clothed and
without having eaten in 24 hours.
I woke up that Monday morning totally aware and determined to make
myself deal with it. I forced myself to shower and change, ordered
breakfast and choked down every bite. I went out and shopped. I bought
casual clothes and shoes. On the way back to the Plaza, it began to
sleet.
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