Loading...There are words that I don’t like. There are phrases that don’t sit right with me either and never have. I don’t like the word cunt. I like the word pussy. I’d like to take a vacation and spend a week eating pussy. I’ve never wanted to spend one minute eating cunt. The two words “pussy whipped” bother me. First it’s the connotation. “Pussy Whipped” means that a man has allowed a woman to get total control over his actions. He’s been emasculated, not with a knife, with words and manipulation. There are other words and phrases that I don’t like, but those give you the idea.
We met years ago, dated, decided we were “in love” and got married. We’d both been married before. Her first marriage lasted over twenty years and even though she says she hated being married to him they probably would still be married if he hadn’t molested their oldest daughter. After their divorce and the family’s emotional upset had calmed (after thousands of dollars worth of therapy) she started looking for the next “Mr. Right.”
I had been married over twenty years, too. It ended when she finally told the truth that she had never loved me. She married me because she didn’t think anyone else was ever going to ask her. That hurt! Twenty years with a woman who didn’t love me. The sex was really good with her when it happened, but it didn’t happen often and it seemed to be missing something. I never figured out what was missing until she told me that what was missing was love.
We met. On our first date we met for dinner. It went well. She talked about her kids and I talked about mine. She talked about her career and I talked about mine. We avoided mention of exes other than to both admit we had them.
The first time I was invited to a sleepover (her word) I worried. I liked her. What if the sex wasn’t very good? What if I couldn’t do it? It had, by then, been years since I’d bedded anyone. One of my fears was that the cannon would go off before the parade even got started. It didn’t. The sex was incredible and I discovered what had been missing from my first marriage, love. She loved me!
After we had been married for a year I had a major medical incident. The kind that suddenly has one riding in an ambulance flat on their back and scared shitless it’s their last ride. The incident happened at work. Someone called Beth, my wife, and told her what happened and which hospital I was taken to. When I woke up she was beside my bed and looked terrible. My immediate assumption was that if she looked that bad, I was a goner. I was wrong. The ten-ton truck parked on my chest was evidence that they had cracked open my chest and done a chapter eleven reorganization. The good news was that I’d live. The bad news was that I had lost some things in the process.
One of those things was the loss of the ability to have an erection strong enough to slide home into the woman I loved. Hell, I couldn’t get stiff enough to enter a contest much less a woman. I gained some things as well. Scars. When Beth saw my scars the first time she turned ashen. I’ve worn a t-shirt ever since. I didn’t like that look on her. I still don’t like the scarred look in the mirror either.
Working with the doctors at our HMO I’ve tried the little blue pill, one that wasn’t blue, injections and a suction pump. A waste of time money and effort. Each attempt was witnessed by Beth. She was emotionally supportive and said the things she believed I wanted her to say. When nothing worked and my penis stayed limp she said, “It’ll be Ok. We can still do other fun things, if you still want to.”
That year I ate pussy about once a week. I still wanted to fuck her, but eating pussy was great. I loved the feelings I got from feeling her body respond and get all the way to orgasm. In a few serious conversations with her I said I understood if she needed or wanted a discreet friend with privileges to fill her pussy with more than my fingers and tongue could supply. All I asked was that she be discreet and not stop allowing me to be the most lover I could.
She laughed off the first conversation as if I couldn’t possibly be serious. During that year other changes happened. She got two promotions at work. I got downsized into being a consultant. She was making almost twice as much money as I was. Before they cracked me open I was making about twenty percent more than Beth. I was working from home.
A year later she had changed her behavior towards me. My advances had been welcomed and the orgasms appreciated at a frequency of at least once and sometimes twice a week for two years. I was physically affectionate without the push towards orgasms while allowing for our intimacy to include orgasms any time she wanted. My first wife had complained that every time we kissed she felt like I was trying to fuck her. I would have liked that, but didn’t expect it would happen as often as after every kiss! With Beth I made dinner a couple times a week, started taking care of some of the jobs around the house and worked at being the husband she wanted.
When her behavior changed it wasn’t gradual. The first change happened the second week of May. I made dinner for us and when Beth came home from work she smelled the lasagna in the oven and said, “I wish you had asked. I already ate. One of the other ladies at work brought in food and I pigged out.” I ate some of it and put the rest in the freezer for whenever. Later that night I sat beside her to watch a TV show we watched together often. In the first segment of the show I put a hand on her thigh.
In the first commercial break she got up said she was tired and went to bed. In the second commercial break I went to the bedroom and asked if she was Ok.
“I’m tired and I want to sleep.” I got the message and left her alone. When I went to bed at a little after ten she rolled so her back was towards me and never acknowledged I had awakened her.
From that night on we didn’t snuggle on the couch to watch TV. We didn’t touch while we ate together, as we passed in the hallway, and when I put my hand on her thigh as we went somewhere in the car she said, “Please don’t do that. It makes me nervous. Just pay attention to the road.”
The third week of May she got up from the dinner table and headed for the bedroom. It wasn’t even eight o’clock. I followed her.
“Hey. What’s going on?”
“I’m tired? Aren’t I allowed to be tired?”
I pointed out what I had noticed and said, “Tired is one thing, this is more.”
“So, you want to talk about this whatever-it-is now, when I want to go to sleep? Aren’t you nice.”
“I do want to talk about this whatever-it-is. Tell me when.”
“Saturday, at noon.”
I turned to leave the bedroom and said, “I’ll put it on the calendar in the kitchen. Thank you.”
I watched a movie on TV that night and rather than disturb her sleep I slept on the couch. When she got up in the morning she woke me and asked if I was punishing her. I sat up and asked how I could be punishing her.
“You didn’t come to bed last night! I woke up twice in the night and you weren’t there.”
“You were so tired you needed to go to bed before eight. I decided that rather than disturb your sleep when I came to bed, I’d just let you sleep. I was trying to be a good guy.”
“If I wanted to sleep alone I’d be single. Please don’t sleep out here again, Ok?”
“Ok.” She had breakfast and went off to work. I went to my office and worked until about two in the afternoon. I called her at work and when she answered I asked, “Shall I make something for dinner?”
“No, don’t. I won’t be hungry.” Twenty seconds later she said she had to go and she hung up.
I started wondering if she had started seeing someone for sex and was feeling guilty. It would explain the changes. She was being discreet but her behavior was still a tip off that something was happening.
Saturday came and I started the day working on a project in our back yard. By eleven I was done and came back into the house. I had gotten muddy while I worked so standing on the back porch I stripped off my clothes and headed for the shower. I didn’t see Beth in the kitchen, hallway, her office or the bathroom. I got in the shower and got clean, shampooed and shaved. When I was in fresh clothes it was almost noon. I knew our conversation was scheduled for noon.
On the wall of our kitchen we have a white board calendar. I looked and the note about our conversation was gone. In it’s place a note said, “Shopping with Alison.”
Alison is Beth’s sister. I called Alison and Rob’s house and Rob answered. I asked if Beth was there.
“Nah, she called about two hours ago and they left an hour ago with my best American Express card. They said they’d bring dinner back with them.”
“Oh. Ok. Say Rob, do me a favor, Ok? Don’t say I called.
“Ok. Is anything wrong?”
“I have no idea.”
Beth was no longer eating my cooking. She no longer wanted my touches, hadn’t made herself available for bedroom fun, and had avoided our serious conversation on purpose. Yet, she wanted to make sure I was in bed with her every night.
I waited until almost six to call her cell. It went directly to voice mail. I said, “I was just wondering what time you’ll be home. Call me on my cell, Ok?” I hit stop.
It was almost eight when she parked in the garage and came inside carrying two bags from the big mall in town. I was watching TV, still dressed in fresh chinos and a nice shirt. She stopped and looked me over.
“You’re dressed like you expected us to go out.”
“Nope. I saw that you left a note about going shopping, so I went for a drive. I think it’s a law you have to wear clothes when you go for a drive.”
“Did you get dinner for yourself? We ate at Tony Roma’s.”
“I hope you took Rob some of their ribs. I know he really loves their ribs.”
“We did.”
“Are you tired?”
“Yeah, some. Why?”
“I haven’t been able to touch you in almost two weeks. I was hoping we could enjoy an evening together.”
“I’m sorry, Baby. It’s not like you can do anything. I’m fine. I don’t feel the need for an orgasm.”
“Can I ask another question?”
“You just did.” She turned and walked out of the room. I watched… no, I sat in the room with the TV for another twenty minutes. She didn’t come back. I carefully got up off the couch and went out the back door. I was in my car when I hit the button for the garage door and quickly started the engine. I was completely out and in the street before she came out the back door. I saw her in my rear view mirror. Her robe was on and buttoned.
I stayed the night in a No-Tell Motel about five miles away from home. I paid cash.
In the morning I showered using hotel soap and dressed in the same clothes I had on the night before. At eight-twenty I pulled into the garage and parked. On my way out the side door of the garage I hit the button and closed the door. Beth’s car was in the garage and the hood was cool.
Beth was sitting at the kitchen table when I walked in. She was fully dressed in slacks, sweater and loafers. I said, “Good Morning” and kept walking. I went into the bathroom and closed the door. I started the water in the sink.
Seconds later Beth opened the door and looked at me like I was guilty of something.
“What are you doing?” She asked.
“It’s called shaving. I’ve been known to do it almost every morning since I was fifteen. Wanna watch?”
“Where did you go last night?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I expected you to sleep with me last night. When I came out of the shower you were gone!”
“The shower wasn’t running when I left. I waited twenty minutes after your smart-ass answer to me, then I walked out. Where were you?”
“In the bedroom putting away the things I bought yesterday.”
“Where were you at noon?”
“Alison called at about eleven and asked me to go shopping. I left you a note.”
“After you erased the one saying we had scheduled a serious conversation for noon, yesterday.”
“I didn’t erase any note.”
“Right! I made up asking for a meeting and you telling me Saturday at noon.”
“I don’t remember anything of the sort!”
“Ok. Can we have a serious conversation right now?”
“About what?”
“Do you have the time right now? Are you too tired at nine in the morning? Do you have an appointment somewhere?”
She sat on our bed and said, “You want to talk? Go ahead.”
“Ok. Over a year ago I told you that if you were interested in having someone be the lover who could fill your pussy with something besides my tongue and fingers, all I asked was that you be discreet. Now your behavior has changed towards me and you won’t talk. That’s not discreet! You might as well wear a sign, “I’m screwing someone else!” Ok. I got the message. You don’t care that I know. I’ve been as good a husband as I know how to be. You want a divorce?”
“No! I love you. I’m not seeing anyone. I just don’t want sex anymore. The thought of you licking me turns me off. Don’t take it personal.”
“So, does that mean that until you hit puberty again we won’t ever have sex again?”
“I won’t have puberty again.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She nodded.
“So, if I physically overpowered you, tossed you on the bed and ate your pussy you couldn’t enjoy it? It would make you throw up?”
“I just don’t want to! If you did that it might feel good, I just don’t want to!”
“Ok. God, I’m glad we had this conversation. I don’t want a divorce. However, things are about to change. I’ve been the house-husband for almost two years. I do the marketing, most of the cooking, the laundry and stuff. I now get three nights a week off. If I pick they’ll be Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, but if you want to negotiate that can be worked out.”
“Those nights you don’t cook?”
“No. Those nights don’t count on me sleeping here. The rest of the time our relationship will be just as it has been for weeks. I won’t touch you, kiss you or attempt to eat your pussy or pat your ass. I’ll still make dinner twice a week unless you ask for more. I’ll do the laundry, the marketing and most of the housework.”
“Where will you go?”
“Do you really want to know?”
Tears ran down her cheeks. Her eyes locked on mine and she slowly nodded.
“I’ll find someone who loves being eaten for hours and gushing her juices all over my face. I’ll find someone who likes my fingers inside her and loves orgasms. I’ll suck on her tits and eat her until we both fall asleep exhausted. The rest of the week I’m yours, just the way you like it.”
“I don’t like that. I don’t want that.”
“You want just what you’ve had for weeks. You want me to do without something I love doing. What do you give up?”
“I gave up being fucked by you over two years ago!”
“And, to quote you “It’ll be Ok. We can still do other fun things, if you still want to.” I want to. You slammed the door on that. It isn’t Ok. It bothers me every day that my dick doesn’t get hard. I felt something like a man when I could still please you in bed. Now, even that’s gone! I can’t get that here, from the woman I love and who says she loves me. Maybe I won’t be able to find a woman who loves orgasms as much as you used to. Maybe I won’t find anyone at all who will let me love them the way my body will allow. Maybe I am no longer a man. Those are a lot of maybe’s, I’m going to find out which ones are true!”
“Are you saying you weren’t with someone last night?”
“I’m not saying anything about last night! If we’d had this conversation yesterday I’d answer for my behavior last night. Did you lie to me about yesterday?”
“No! I went shopping with Alison.”
“You told me she called you, remember?”
“Yes!”
“And she invited you shopping?”
“Yes!”
“How did she do that? I had the portable phone clipped to my belt all morning and it never rang.”
“She, she called on my cell.”
I left the bathroom and went into my office and turned on my computer. She followed. I pulled up her cell phone records. The only two calls on her cell were the call she made to her sister and the call I made leaving her a message. I looked up at her and didn’t say anything.
She opened her mouth and I held up a hand. “You lied. I have more evidence against you. Please don’t insult me by lying on top of the lies you already told. You didn’t want to talk. You called Alison and probably convinced her to lie for you if I talked to her.” I tapped the screen showing the time and number she called. “You bought dinner at Tony Roma’s and the three of you ate together. You didn’t bring me anything, not even an apology.”
She slumped into a chair. “I’m sorry.”
“I’d ask what you’re sorry for but at this moment, I don’t care what you’re sorry about. Did you listen to the message I left you?”
“No. I saw it was from you and deleted it.”
“Too bad. However, it says something about the respect you now have for me. I guess making lots of money and being promoted have changed your attitude about me.”
The look on her face let me know she had deleted the message without hearing it. Too bad.
“You have a choice to make. You can accept my terms for our marriage or you can get out. This house was mine long before I met you and it will be mine ten years from now if I’m still alive. If you choose to get out I want it to be by Wednesday. Your things can stay until the weekend, but you need to be gone by Wednesday at eight.”
“I don’t want to go! I have no where to go! I don’t want a divorce!”
“Move in with your sister! Maybe Rob is already your lover and that’ll make it convenient for all three of you.”
“Rob is not my lover!”
“Please understand, I’m not demanding a divorce. I don’t want a divorce. I’m not even asking you to move out, but you can choose to do it. It’s up to you.”
Her hands covered her face and she cried. When I tired of listening I got up and went to my bedroom. I grabbed an armload of hangers from our closet and carried an arm load of her things into our guest bedroom. I hung them neatly in her new closet, then I went back for more. As I carried that arm load between bedrooms she came out of my office.
“What are you doing?”
“You no longer sleep with me. I might roll over and touch you. You’ve said you don’t like my touch. If you decide to stay we can talk about the sleeping arrangements then. Between now and Wednesday, you’re in the guest room. I’m moving your clothes to make your life easier for you.”
“I like sleeping next to you. I’m used to hearing your breathing.”
“I will never sleep next to a pussy I can’t eat or tits I can’t touch or kiss. Not one more night!” I took her clothes in and hung them up, neatly. When I came out of the guest room she was still in the hallway and still crying. As I passed her I said, “You can move the rest.”
I plopped on the couch and turned on the TV. I heard the walking between bedrooms for a while then I heard the guest room door close. I shut off the TV and went to bed in my bedroom. It took a while to fall asleep listening to her cry, but I did.
I made breakfast for two and ate my half. She didn’t come out of the guest room. I took a 3X5 card and made a sign and put it by her breakfast. “Leave the dishes. I’ll do them when I get back.”
After I dressed I took my car and went to church. I had attended that church for eight years near the end of my first marriage. Some of the people there that morning recognized me and welcomed me back. After the service one of the senior members asked if I’d meet with he and two other staff members. I was in no hurry so I agreed.
The two others were both women. The chit-chat began about catching up. When that was done one of the women asked, “So, we’d like you to help us if you still feel good about being a member of the church. We remember what a great job you did before…”
“I’ll need to think about it. I’ll need some more details about what you actually have in mind.”
They had me leave my address and promised a packet of interest would be at my home by Wednesday. As I gave my address I said, “Address the envelope to me, not to Mr. & Mrs.”
“Is there a Mrs.?” Shanna asked. Her look said there was an interest beyond that of the church in her question. It was then I noticed rings on every finger except the third finger, left hand.
“Temporarily I must answer yes, there is.”
Shanna asked, “How temporarily?”
“She has until Wednesday to decide that question.”
“Oh.” We concluded our business and on my way out of the building another face from the past stopped me and asked if I was coming to the meeting that evening. I looked up and saw Shanna nodding her head at me and smiling.
I got the details and said I’d be there. I drove home. Ate a good lunch, cleaned up the kitchen and went into my office. As always I left the door open.
A few minutes passed with me checking emails and Beth knocked on the open door. I looked up.
“Thank you for breakfast. Can we talk, Please?”
I pointed at a chair and she came in and sat down. She had thought long and hard about this. She was wearing my favorite of her weekend clothes; tights and a loose pullover shirt. I could tell, when she moved, there wasn’t a bra inside the shirt. Her D-sized breasts were free.
“I didn’t sleep well last night. I don’t like being in the guest room. I don’t like being so close to you and so far away.”
“The short response is, so?”
“Sleeping like this is like were roommates! We’re husband and wife.”
“Go get your address book please. We’ll do an experiment.”
She got her PDA and handed it to me. If his name and number were in there they were well hidden. I said, “Pick a letter.”
“M”
I went to her address book and dialed the first number under the “M”. Marilyn Scott.
My address book was by last name, hers by first name. I hit speaker phone and we both heard the phone ring. Marilyn worked with Beth and didn’t know me.
“Hello, Beth?” Marilyn answered.
Beth quickly said, “Yes it’s me and my husband, Pete.”
I said, “We’re having a discussion and we’re calling a few people to see if they have an opinion. Do you have maybe two minutes we could have?”
“Yeah, I guess so. What’s this about?”
“How can someone tell if two people are married? Make believe you were from Mars or Venus and you could see everything about people’s lives. How would you know they were married?”
“They live together.”
“Anything else?”
“They share everything in their lives. They go on vacation together, they eat together, they do nice things for each other.”
“Anything else?” I asked.
“They’d have sex.”
Beth asked, “Anything else?”
There was a long pause and she said, “They wouldn’t keep secrets from each other.” Then she hung up the phone. I didn’t look at Beth. I tapped in the next phone number; Matthew, also a colleague from work.
He was home and willing to play our quiz game. He gave much the same answers except sex was closer to the first answer than it had been for Marilyn. Then I asked him if he’d ever had a roommate.
“Sure, in college.”
“Ever have one that was female?” I asked.
“Yup. Senior year.”
“What would you say is the biggest difference between having a roommate and a wife?”
“If she’s a roommate you don’t have sex. If you aren’t married and have sex she’s not a roommate she ‘s a lover. If you’re married, she’s a wife.”
I thanked him and hung up. I looked at Beth. “How many more opinions do you want to hear?”
“None.”
“Ok. Let me ask another question. If my dick worked and I ate your pussy would you say we had sex? Wait, if my dick didn’t work and I ate someone else’s pussy would you say I had sex with them?”
“Eating someone is sex.”
Two people you know said that without sex people aren’t married. Sex is part of being married or at least lovers. For almost a month we’ve been roommates. Only difference is now you sleep in your room and I sleep in mine. The temptation of you is no longer within arms reach.”
“I don’t care what they say. I’m your wife and I want to sleep with you.”
“I totally get what you want. You totally get what I want. The compromise is for you to be my roommate and stay in your room every night. I will not bring anyone else into this house and neither will you.”
I looked at my watch and knew I needed to leave. The meeting at church started in half an hour. I stood up and put my sport coat back on.
“Where are you going?” Beth asked. Her eyes were showing panic.
“Out. I’ll be here before you leave for work in the morning.” I walked out and Beth cried. I almost cried on the way to the church. I thought about how it would be to give in, let her move back into my bed without sex. The two words kept flashing before me: Pussy Whipped.
When I walked into the chapel I saw Shanna with an empty chair beside her. I review what I remembered about her from years ago. She had been married to Jack Templeton and he had died of an aneurism about a year before I got divorced. I looked again. Plenty of rings and one bare finger.
She smiled as I approached and stood up. As we hugged in welcome she whispered, “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”
I whispered back, “Won’t you be missed?”
“No. I told Marie you were coming to take me home.”
“Oh.” I turned us and guided her out the doors. In the parking lot she pointed at her car. I pointed at mine. She wrapped her arms around my neck and asked, “I can either leave my car here all night, you can leave yours or you can follow me home.”
“I’d like to hold the first two options open for the future and tonight follow you home. I accept the offer unsaid, and we need to talk first.”
“Not really, but follow me anyway.” She walked to her car and I followed. It was a four block drive. She led me into her web and as soon as the door closed she said, “Take off your jacket and let me talk to you.” She hung my jacket up and loosened my tie. On her couch she sat facing me and her knees rested against my thigh.
“Beth is your wife. She no longer wants sex with you and you believe she may even be giving it up to someone else. How’m I doing so far?”
“Pretty good.”
“She says she loves, you but isn’t interested in sex any more. She wants you to sleep with her so she knows where you are every night, but she doesn’t want you even thinking about getting any.”
“How do you know all this?”
“A few months ago an article made its way through the company email system. Since then quite a few menopausal women have adopted the philosophy that they don’t need to do it anymore. They like being taken care of, the lifestyle of two incomes but fucking is just too much trouble.”
“Knowing you know doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“You said earlier that being married was temporary, until Wednesday. Talk to me.”
“There’s more to the story than what you said. A few years ago I had surgery. They cut me up pretty good and one side effect of the cutting and the drugs I have to take or die is…”
She said, “No more erections.” I nodded.
“Won’t she do oral?”
“No point. I don’t get hard. For a while I did oral on her and I loved it. She came every time! I thought things were fine until she cut that off too.”
“She expected you to be Ok with nothing?”
“Less than nothing. She still wants to sleep with me. She says she’s used to hearing me breathe right next to her. She sleeps nude. I don’t. I saw her face when she saw my scars after surgery and I’ve worn t-shirts ever since.”
“You came home with me. What’s up?”
“I don’t know what she’s going to decide. I know what I’ve decided. I’m looking for a woman who loves oral sex, loves having her breasts held, kissed and worshiped. If Beth leaves she can move right in. If Beth wants to stay it will be as a roommate and she’ll pay rent until she gets tired of it and we get divorced.”
“Is this an interview? Am I a candidate for the position of oral sex goddess?”
“Yes! Or candidate for woman most likely to be eaten four or five nights a week for the rest of our lives.”
“Eaten in your bed with Beth in the next room?”
“Nope. Either here or in a hotel room. Unless and until she moves out.”
“She still has all the power. She gets to choose everything.”
“I love her. I want to eat her four or five nights a week forever. I’ve been attracted to you for years. When Jack died and I got divorced the timing was all wrong to pursue you. Times change.”
She stood and led me into her bedroom and then into her bathroom. She smelled my neck. “Irish Spring.” She said. She got a fresh bar of Dial out and put it in the shower.
“You going to shower in your clothes or do you need help?” She asked.
I started undressing and said, “My scars.”
She dimmed the lights in the bathroom and got naked. I got down to the t-shirt and she lifted it up and off. I was a foot in front of her naked and scarred. She didn’t even blink.
We showered and her soapy hands touched every inch of me as my hands touched every inch of her. Her bush was trimmed short. When I washed it she asked, “Would you like it better bald?”
“I think so. Yes.”
“I’m glad. When I’ve a man in my life I like my pussy bare for him. During the day when I feel a breeze on it I think about him, licking me and pleasuring me. Are you going to be the man in my life?”
I nodded. She picked up a pink razor and I got to watch as she shaved. As she rinsed the soap away when she was done I dropped to my knees and kissed her freshly nude pussy. She lifted one leg and put it on my shoulder, opening herself up to my mouth. That first taste was heaven. I looked up ands saw her tilt her head back and heard her moan. Her hands held my head.
The nub of her clit was bigger than any woman I had ever tasted before. When I brushed it with my tongue she shook. A few minutes’ action and she leaned forward and shut off the water. I kept sucking and licking. Another minute and I needed to hold her hips she was shaking hard and I was afraid she would fall.
“Oh God! Sweet Jesus! Suck me Pete!” Her first orgasm at my mouth arrived and I loved how it felt. I eased her down and when she had calmed a bit we got out, dried and found her bed. Her second orgasm included fingers and her using a pillow to stop the scream from getting the cops called.
She covered us, set the alarm so she would get up in time to go to work and it hit me. She had all but said she worked where Beth worked! She knew about the emails, the conversations.
“What are you going to say to Beth tomorrow?” I asked.
She snuggled against me and put her nipple right next to my mouth. She smiled and said, “That depends.”
“On what, exactly.”
“Do you want her to know where you are tonight? Knowing could push her decision one way or the other.”
“Then don’t say anything. I want her to decide. By Wednesday it may not matter.” I kissed her extended nipple and then sucked it gently. Shanna’s back arched just a little and she gasped.
“You should take out insurance on that mouth! Damn! You’re good!”
The alarm went off and Shanna threw back the covers, exposing all of me. She wiggled and took my dick in her mouth. She sucked for a minute and then held it in her hand. “I love the way it feels in my mouth. When you come back tonight remind me to tell you a story, Ok.” My dick slid back into her mouth. It felt incredibly good.
“I’m coming back tonight?”
She smiled and took me out again. “If you’d like some more Shanna juice and Shanna screams and Shanna’s tits. Would you like that?”
“Yes! You know I would.”
The sleep buzzer sounded. We had used up whatever few minutes Shanna had allowed for play. She leapt out of bed and I was surprised, she went to the living room not the bathroom. She came back with a clicker and a key.
“Park in spot number seventy-nine. The key will open my door. I’ll make dinner when I get home. Do not cook. Do not clean. Bring extra clothes for tomorrow.” She went into the shower and was back out before I got out of the bed. She pushed me back into bed and said, “Sleep. You can work when you get home.”
Five minutes later she woke me for a Good-Bye kiss. An hour later I got up, left the bed as it was, showered using Dial, dressed and went home. I had breakfast at McDonalds.
As I parked I noticed my cell and turned it on. One message. Beth. “You said you’d be home before I had to go. You aren’t here. I’m worried and scared. Call me, please.” I could hear the anxiety in her voice.
When I sat at my desk I called her. She picked up on the first ring, “Pete?”
“You’re at work! Is that how you answer?”
“I saw your number. Are you Ok?”
“I’m fine. Would you like me to cook dinner?”
“Yes! Anything will be fine.”
“What time will you be here?”
“Regular time, a little after five.”
“Great! Do a good job today. They’re depending on you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.” As I put the phone down I realized I did love her, and I now had feelings coming to the surface for Shanna, too.”
My keyboard was hot all day and when the alarm I’d set before starting work sounded I was surprised and grateful. Without the alarm I would have kept working. I shut down my computer and went into the bedroom. I packed clothes that don’t wrinkle; jeans and a sweatshirt. I changed into khakis and a Land’s End pull over, leaving the t-shirt at home. In the kitchen, I made a pot roast with veggies and popped it in the oven. It would be ready to eat at six. I put a note on the table telling Beth what was in the oven and when to pull it out. I made no promise about when I’d be home. At the bottom of the note I put, “Tomorrow is Tuesday” and signed it Pete.
At five I left. I stopped on the way to Shanna’s and bought two bottles of wine, one white and one red. I figured Shanna would get home about the same time that Beth usually did. I hadn’t thought about her stopping at the market. I opened her door at five –twenty and became a detective for a few minutes. I found out she liked James Patterson, Ken Wilber and Robert Heinlein. I found out she had a mostly empty fridge except for a gallon of sugar-free ice cream and some yogurt. I heard a horn beep once and looked out her window to see her standing at the back of her car. The trunk was open and she was waving. She needed help.
At the trunk I saw six bags of groceries. I hefted two heavy ones and she got two more. A man stepped up and grabbed the other two. Shanna smiled and said, “Pete this is Mark, apartment three. Mark this is Pete. Say, happy to meet you and don’t ask anything!”
In unison we said, “Happy to meet you.” We laughed and got the groceries into the kitchen. We put the bags down, Shanna said “Thank you Mark and began pushing him towards the door. He said, “I’ve never seen you buy so much food. Either you’re having a party or Pete’s staying more than once.” As Shanna closed the door I could hear Mark laughing.
She stepped into my arms and we kissed. The first kiss ended and she said, “Gay boys! Great neighbors, but they tend to get in your business.”
We put the groceries away. My cell rang in my pocket. I’d forgotten to shut it off. Shanna put a hand over her own mouth and I answered.
“I thought you’d be here.”
“Did I say I would be?”
“No, but I thought you knew. I’m missing you.”
“Did you get your dinner out of the oven on time?”
“Yes. The whole house smells wonderfully.”
“Please save me some. I’d like a sandwich or two tomorrow.”
“I know. Tomorrow is Tuesday.” She paused and then asked, “You’re staying with her tonight aren’t you?”
“Just because I’m not with you doesn’t mean I’m with someone else.”
“Yes it does. Your clothes smell like Dial soap.”
“They probably will tomorrow, too. It doesn’t mean anything except I didn’t use the Irish Spring in my bathroom at home.”
“I want my husband back.”
“Finish the statement, please.”
“Please come home. Please sleep with me.”
“So close. Nice try.” I hung up and shut off the phone. Shanna was clapping silently.
“I was worried she was going to invite you to eat pussy at home and ruin our evening.”
“I don’t think she’s going to do it.”
“Good! I mean it would take me a month to eat all this food by myself.”
“You could invite Mark and one or two of his friends and the food would be gone by morning.”
“And what exactly would I get? Not one of them has ever eaten pussy!”
I looked at her all dressed from work and said, “Tell me how to start dinner and you can go get comfortable.”
She told me, kissed me quickly and headed for her bedroom. When she returned I was still chopping carrots and she was wearing a knee length pale green robe. She found another knife and worked on an onion. “You do like onions?” she asked.
“I do. Just not too fond of chopping them.”
We got all the prep done as the oven warmed up. Forty minutes later we were eating.
“I saw Beth today.” Shanna said.
“At her desk?”
“No. In the ladies lounge, crying. Three of the women in her department were with her. She was telling them how you hadn’t been home and she was afraid you’d already found a girl-friend. They were very supportive. They told her you’d crack before Wednesday.”
“What did you do?”
“I was there. It would look weird if I just walked away. I sat down and asked, “Is your husband cheating on you?”
“I don’t know. We’re having a disagreement and he’s threatened me.” She said. I said, “If he’s threatened you we should call the police!”
“They calmed me down and explained you had threatened to have her sleep in the guest room unless she’ll let you do nasty things to her.”
“I asked her what nasty things you want to do.”
“And she said?” I asked.
“He likes putting his mouth on my private parts.” I waited. I wanted to know what Shanna had said. She told me. “I said, Hell, send him over to my place. I’d love it if a man would go down on me for a week!”
“Her friends shooed me out of there and told her I was a slut. They’re right but it’s not a nice thing to say.”
“You’re a slut?”
“Sure. Maybe not by the dictionary definition but by mine. I’m a woman who likes orgasms, mine and others. If it won’t cause bodily harm and it will give someone an orgasm, I’m all for it.”
“Wow!”
“Can we go to bed now?” She asked.
“Sure.” We quickly cleaned up the kitchen and made it to the bedroom before she started undressing me. Shoes off first, then pants and shorts. The last thing was my shirt. The light was full on. She tossed the shirt to a chair and ran her hands over my chest. She felt the patches of hair and traced the scars.
She kissed me a few times and sat back on her bed. She took off the robe and sat on my lap. Her pussy was up against my dick. It felt good but it didn’t move.
“Remember I asked you to ask me to tell you a story?”
“Yes.”
“The very first man I was ever sexual with was a fireman. He’d been in a fire and almost didn’t survive. He had been melted. My Mom left him about a year after he was burned. I came home from third grade and she was gone. Dad was still in the hospital. I packed a suitcase with my stuff and went to the firehouse.”
“You lived in the firehouse?”
“Most of the time, yes. I still lived in our apartment too but until Dad got out of the hospital I was mostly at the firehouse. The firemen who were single and off duty lived in our house and took care of me. When I was twelve Dad came home. They city trained him as a dispatcher and he worked at the firehouse the rest of his life.”
She paused long enough for us to kiss a few more times and for her to put my hands on her breasts. “I cared for him. He cried every time I bathed him. He cried when he looked in the mirror. He took care of me and I took care of him. On the worst nights I sometimes crawled in bed with him and held him. He took pain meds every day and every evening. Most of the time they helped. One night he’d taken three and the pain was still killing him. He got out of bed and found a beer in the fridge. The beer on top of the pain pills and he was out of it. I got him back in bed and he fell asleep. I got in and held him. When I woke up he was on top of me, calling me by my Mom’s name and he was inside me. He fucked me and cried and talked about how sorry he was for being so ugly. He thought I was my Mom. He told her how good I was taking care of him and how good I was at school. He passed out and rolled off me. I was fourteen when that happened.”
“It happened again?”
“Between then and when he died a year later it happened three times. The third time I was on my period and when he woke up I hadn’t cleaned him up very well. He saw the blood and he knew what he had done. He cried and apologized and I told him I understood and that I loved him. I knew he loved me and he loved a woman who couldn’t even look at him.”
She was crying and I held her. I held her most of the night. We slept and we cried, then we slept some more. The alarm went off at a quarter after six. She kissed me and apologized for her story. She said if she didn’t get up and go to work people would think she spent the night with me. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think that would be such a bad thing, but maybe the timing was off for telling people.
When she left I got up. I found her picture albums and found pictures taken at the firehouse. I wrote down every detail about that firehouse and her Dad. When I got home there was a note on the kitchen table.
“I’ve moved all my things into my bedroom. You win. I’d like to have dinner with you at least three nights a week and to have you sleep here often. I get paid on Friday. I’ll leave you half the rent and half the utilities. That’s what a good roommate does.”
I worked a good portion of the day with Shanna’s story bouncing around in my head. I made a few calls in the afternoon and finally spoke to a guy who had known Shanna and her Dad. Except for the sex he told me much of the same story. Sam was her Dad, and the fire that got him was a chemical fire that burned almost exactly half his body. When a tank of chemicals exploded he was facing it and the fire burnt the front of his body. The fireman talking to me told me how Sam had been in the hospital two years and the last year his daughter lived with the firemen. Her Mom had run off and she just showed up with a suitcase and started sleeping in the bunk with her Dad’s name on it. He said that after Sam died she stayed until she graduated from high school and then one day while they were at a fire she left.
He asked if I knew where she was. I said I didn’t, that I’d heard about a firehouse who took care of a young girl and was just looking for the true story. He said I had it.
I made dinner after I called Shanna and explained that I was staying home that night and she shouldn’t make it mean anything negative about us. I wasn’t resigning and becoming Pussy Whipped again. I promised to spend Thursday night with her. After I talked to Shanna I called Beth.
“Beth it’s Pete.”
“I saw your number before I picked up.”
“Dinner will be ready at six but I need a favor, if you’re willing.”
“What do you need?”
“A bottle of red wine. We don’t have one and it would go well with dinner, I think. Could you pick one up?”
“Sure. The wine and I will be home before six.”
Like the weeks hadn’t passed the way they had Beth told me about what was going on at work. Then her phone rang with another call and she said, “Oh, I’ve gotta go! See you at home. I love you.” And she was gone.
She walked in the door with a bottle of good red wine and dinner went on the table. I asked about her day and she asked about my work. After dinner we watched a little TV and Beth changed into sweats to be comfortable. In the past she might have worn just a robe and let parts of her anatomy be exposed from time to time. The sweats were baggy enough that it wasn’t obvious if she was wearing a bra or not. She sat on the couch with me, leaving over a foot of space between us.
At nine she lowered the volume of the TV and asked, “Am I being the kind of roommate that’s acceptable to you? I’ve never been a roommate before.”
“So far it’s Ok. I’m still puzzled at why this is acceptable to you but at least this way I feel like a man.”
“You are a man. You’ve always been a man.”
“Biologically I have the DNA and the plumbing that identifies me as male. That’s different from feeling like a man. You know what I’m talking about and I’m not talking about it again, with you.”
“I didn’t intend to make you angry. I want us living together to be pleasant for both of us.”
“I don’t see how that can ever happen. You’re like chocolate cake.”
“Huh?”
“I love chocolate cake. If I ate a whole cake every day I’d weigh seven hundred pounds by Christmas. So I avoid chocolate cake. I don’t go into the bakery down the street more than three or four times a year, and I never buy a cake from them. In a restaurant I allow myself to order one piece of chocolate cake on a special occasion, like my birthday. If I worked where you do and someone put a chocolate cake in the break room, I’d eat some, because it was there and I love chocolate cake. You sitting right there is like sitting next to a chocolate cake. It’s still in the box and I can’t see it, but I can smell it and I know it’s right there… with a sign on it that says, “This is not your chocolate cake. You can’t have any.”
“Oh. What can I do?”
“Take off the sweats, lay down on the floor and spread your legs. Ask me to dive in and enjoy your pussy. Until you do that or you leave, I’m living with a chocolate cake I can’t have anymore.”
She burst into tears and ran from the room. I heard the door to her bedroom close.
I watched the news and went to my room and undressed. I put my clothes in the hamper and saw that I needed to do laundry soon. I set my alarm and soon I was asleep.
In the morning I carried laundry out to the laundry room and saw Beth eating cereal at the table. “If you want me to do your laundry please bring it out this morning. I’ll do it and leave it on your bed.”
“No, I don’t think so. I heard you last night. Leaving my laundry would be like leaving the spatula covered in frosting and telling you you can’t lick it. I’ll find a time and do my own laundry, but thanks for the offer.”
She was right. I walked out of the kitchen and headed for my office.
When it was time for Beth to leave for work she came to my office door. She said, “It’s really hard for you to be with me. I know that now. I don’t know where you go when you aren’t here but… I need to be here alone and think tonight. Ok?”
“Not a problem. Have a good day at work.” I didn’t get up. I didn’t invite her into my office. I waved Good-Bye and she turned and left.
Three hours later I finished the contract work I had been doing and called the messenger service for a pick up. While I waited I called Shanna.
“Would you like a sleepover tonight? I asked.
“Will I be the dessert?”
“Yes. And we both know I love dessert.”
“So she has decided to be a roommate?”
“For the moment. I’ve given her something to think about and talk to her friends about. We’ll see what comes from that.”
She asked me to promise to tell her the whole story at dinner. She recommended I bring more clothes to her place and she told me she cleared some space for my things. When our called ended I packed a bag and put it in my car. The messenger came and took the three pounds of paper and two CD’s to my client. By dinner time an electronic deposit would be made to my account.
I went to the market and among the items I took home was a package of chocolate cup cakes. I left the package on the kitchen table with a note that said, “Don’t eat these.”
At five I drove to Shanna’s house. Inside I turned on some music and sat down with a book I found on her shelves. I had somehow picked up a book I’d never heard of, by an author I didn’t know. The title was good but the subtitle intrigued me. The book was “Power vs. Force, The Hidden Determinants of Human Behavior” by David R. Hawkins, M.D., Ph.D.. I was hooked in less than a full page. Maybe reading this would help me understand the two women in my life… and maybe even understand myself better. I opened a diet Coke and turned the pages reading what the author was saying until Shanna opened the door.
I put the book down and took her in my arms. By the time our first kiss ended we were both undressed and on the floor in front of the couch. Shanna was on her back and I was lapping up her nectar. Her hands held my head and it wasn’t long until she crested and moaned loudly from deep inside herself. I crawled up her body and we kissed again. And again.
We did come up for air when someone walked by her open door and was talking to someone. We heard them outside and looked up, noticed the open door and scrambled for cover. I don’t know if we were seen and, to be totally honest, I didn’t care then or now.
We took our clothes into the bedroom and put them away. Shanna noticed my empty suitcase and the hanging clothes in her closet. She came to me and we kissed again. “I thought about finding you here about every five minutes all afternoon!”
“Thank you. I guess now that you’ve been eaten and had a little orgasm you’ll send me home for the night?”
“There are some words I live by. One phrase I live by is this one: Once is never enough! I want you beside me, on top of me, underneath me as often as you want to be there. I’m a slut. I love orgasms.”
“Good! Beth asked me not to come home tonight. I think she has some thinking to do.”
“Hold that thought.” She dashed into the kitchen and got our dinner into the oven. She came back and sat on my lap. “Ok, tell me the story.”
I told her about the conversation Beth and I had the night before and about the cupcakes I left on the table. She looked into my eyes the whole time I spoke. When I was done she kissed me. When that kiss ended I bent her back a little and kissed her breast. Her hands held my head pressed gently into her soft skin.
Over dinner I could tell there was something Shanna wanted to talk about but she kept hesitating. I’ve learned to wait. Sometimes I’ve waited too long, but that time it only took half an hour before she spoke.
“You know I love what you do with me?”
“Yes.”
“I want to know something. What if you go home tomorrow and Beth is naked on your bed, legs spread wide, pussy shaved and you see her dripping honey into her pussy while she smiles at you?”
“Someone a mile away will hear her scream when she has that orgasm! Now, what do you really want to know? If she does that, will I be back here? Yes! If she does all that and begs me to give up sex with anyone but her… I won’t. I am a man, a man who loves eating pussy and loving women.” I reached over and picked up her book.
“Have you read this?”
She shook her head. “My sister gave it to me for Christmas a year ago.”
“I’m just a few pages into it and I love it. He realized after years of school and practicing medicine that the key to healing is love. Ok. As I’ve been reading I’ve been thinking. I enjoy eating pussy, part of that love is about power. I love the power to be the source of your orgasms. And, I’m realizing, I love you. I love the connection we have when you open yourself to me and that connection heals me. I feel better about myself now than I have in years. That connection isn’t there with Beth any more. I get it best when the connection is physically intimate.”
She sat, looking into me for well over a minute. She got up from my lap and found her portable phone. She touched a speed dial and waited a few seconds before she said, “Drop whatever you’re doing. Grab clothes for tomorrow and get your ass over here now! No kidding.” She hit a button and tossed the phone on the couch.
She sat back down and wrapped her arms around my neck. We kissed. I was glad I knew where the fire extinguisher was in her kitchen. That kiss was hot enough to start things burning.
She tucked her face into the crook of my neck and said, “It’ll take her almost an hour to get here. I’ve been thinking about introducing the two of you and what you just said pushed me to do it now.”
“Who is she?”
“When I left the firehouse I got on a bus and went to Chicago. I had no reason to pick Chicago. When I got there I got a job as a waitress. She worked there too. We’re almost the same age and we shared an apartment for three years. We’re best friends. We quit sharing an apartment when she left to marry Bob. That lasted six years and he was killed in a drive by. The car Bob was driving when he was shot crashed and Helen lost her right leg at the knee.”
“We’re on the third floor!”
“Not a big problem. She’ll be here. She hasn’t dated since she lost Bob and her leg. She has two losses to heal and my opinion is she doesn’t know which to try to heal first. We’re going to help her heal everything.”
“She may freak. She’s never met me. Does she even know I exist?”
“Yes! She’s my best friend. I tell her everything. So, she knows my story and your story. Relax.”
“I’m getting dressed.”
“Me too.” We pulled clothes on. I watched Shanna and she put on sweats. The same color and style sweats that Beth had worn the night before. The difference was I knew what she wasn’t wearing underneath the sweats and I was invited to touch, taste and be inside with her.
We tossed some stuff together for dinner, enough for three. About the time we had it ready we heard the door open and the huff of energy being used to get into the apartment. Shanna kissed my cheek and went out to greet Helen. I dished up the dinner on a serving platter and carried it and three plates to the table.
My first look at Helen was obscured. They were hugging and most of what I could see was Shanna. I got the food and plates on the table and turned to go back in the kitchen. Shanna’s voice stopped me.
“I want you to meet, Pete. Helen this is Pete. Pete this is Helen. Now the two most important people in my life have met.”
Helen stood so her artificial leg was partially hidden behind Shanna. I stepped forward and said, “To greet you properly I’d like permission to give you a hug. May I?”
Her eyes opened wider and she nodded. She lifted her arms and I bent down a little as I embraced her. Funny how much data can be collected in a three second hug. I learned she was thin, wasn’t wearing a bra, was about two inches shorter that Shanna and smelled like vanilla. I also learned that her breasts were quite small. As we broke the hug I wondered what she had learned in the same three seconds.
We moved to the table and sat down. As we began to eat Helen asked, “OK, so what’s the deal with commanding me to get my butt over here?”
“Tonight is a celebration. I like having you around when I celebrate.” Shanna said.
“What are we celebrating?”
“Pete’s wife has officially become his roommate. That means I can officially become his… I don’t know what to call it.”
“I’d feel strange calling a woman in her thirties a girl-friend.” I said.
“You know damn well I’m not in my thirties!” Shanna slapped my shoulder as she said it. She also smiled.
“Yes, I know. You’ll be forty-six in November. Even more reason girl-friend doesn’t seem right.”
“Concubine?” Helen offered. “Mistress?”
“Nope.” I said. “Lover.”
“I can see it now. Next Sunday at church we’ll be standing outside after services and the Rev will come up and I’ll introduce you. “Rev, I’d like you to meet Pete, my lover.”
“He’d shake my hand and tell me what a lucky man I am.”
“You wouldn’t actually do that! Would you?” Helen asked.
Shanna smiled and answered, “It would depend on who was near us. I know the Rev well enough I could say it to him. There are others in the congregation who would hear it and choke to death. I wouldn’t say it around them.”
I asked, “Helen, what did you think of when I said the word?”
“You were announcing to the world that you’ve had sex.” She blushed.
“I’m proud of that. Shanna is a beautiful woman, in a hundred different ways. Any man who can love her and has sex with her should be proud to say it!”
I noticed a mist grow in her eyes. She looked at Shanna and blinked.
A few seconds later she started to get up. The mist had become a tear and it fell. I reached out and put my hand on her arm. She stopped moving and looked at me.
“I’d like you to do me a favor. I want you to trust me for an hour. If you can’t trust me for an hour trust Shanna for the hour and Shanna will make sure you are safe. Can you do that?”
“I just met you.”
“Then trust Shanna. She will not let me hurt you. I swear I will not do anything to hurt you. Ok?”
She looked at Shanna and said, “I trust you.”
I asked her to stand up. As she stood I held her arm and guided myself in front of her.
“I want you to remember some time when you were younger and someone in your family kissed you. It could have been Hello or Good-Bye. Do you remember?”
She nodded. I said, “I want you to give me a kiss just like that kiss. If it helps, close your eyes.” Her eyes closed and I got a quick peck on my cheek. Her eyes popped back open.
“Remember at the end of the ceremony when you got married to Bob?” As soon as I said his name a tear fell from her face.
“At the end of the ceremony he was invited to kiss you. You kissed him back. Think about all the things you put into that kiss.” I paused. “Now think about all the things that were in that kiss that weren’t present for you an hour ago. Things you didn’t feel, weren’t connected to, an hour ago.”
Shanna said, “Lean forward and kiss Pete asking that all those things be back in your life. The love, the connection, the commitment.”
My hands went to her face and we touched lips together. She trembled and shook. I felt tears on my face that weren’t my tears. When the energy demanded we end the kiss I pulled back a little.
Helen’s eyes opened and she looked at me, then at Shanna. Shanna moved closer and said, “Now, give me that kiss.”
They embraced and their mouths met. I whispered, “Tell Helen how much you appreciate her. Show her how your hearts are connected. Feel the warmth radiating from each of you to the other, becoming one warmth. One heart. One love.”
When the kiss ended Helen said, “I need to sit down.” We helped her to the middle of the couch. Shanna sat next to her. I knelt between her knees.
“Tell me what you feel from us, please.”
She hesitated a long time and said, “I feel loved. Completely loved.”
“Good. You are.” Shanna said.
My hand was on her prosthetic knee. I said, “I need to hold your leg. Please give me access.”
She stood and unfastened her pants, dropping them to the floor. Some straps were loosened and she plopped back down on the couch and handed me the leg. I set it aside and reached for the stump. A compression stocking covered the stump. I reached to the top of the stocking and peeled it away. As I did I uncovered scars. Scars from incisions and stitches and scars from where the car’s metal had cut and damaged her.
Shanna held her and they both cried. When the stump was bare I gently held it in my hands, massaging the skin, feeling the emotions she filled the leg with.
I whispered, “Helen is beautiful. Helen is a gentle, sweet soul with an iron core of strength. Helen is loved. Shanna has loved her for years. Bob loved her. Pete loves her.” I paused between each statement. The first time through I held and touched her bare stump. The second time though I touched both legs. Then I leaned forward and kissed her. Shanna put a hand on the short leg as I touched both legs. When I kissed her the second time Shanna moved her hand toward Helen’s panties.
I repeated the entire process three times. When I leaned forward the third time she leaned forward to accept the kiss. Shanna pulled her sweats off and Helen and I kissed.
When our kiss ended I leaned to Shanna and we kissed. Helen watched.
As that kiss ended Shanna leaned to Helen and they kissed. I lifted one of Helen’s hands and placed it on Shanna’s chest. “Feel her warmth, her love for you.”
I let go of her hand and she slowly moved it down until she was cupping Shanna’s breast.
“Feel the intimacy of your connection. Send Shanna the warmth of your love. Let Shanna feel your energy, your love, your promises for tomorrow.”
Helen backed away from Shanna and lifted her sweatshirt up and off. Scars showed and no longer mattered. She pressed her bare chest against Shanna and they kissed again. I leaned to her stump and kissed it. Next I kissed her long leg, just above the knee.
Shanna’s hand reached for me and guided me to get up and move behind Helen. I understood what she wanted and stood. I undressed completely and stood on the couch with Helen between my legs. I lowered myself so I slid between her and the couch. She was between my legs and when I reached around her from the back and Shanna from the front we had her enveloped.
Shanna whispered. “You are whole. A complete spirit. A complete body. Complete, different, not less. You are available to the love we give you. Completely available to love and be loved.”
I whispered, “Feel the skin touching your skin. Feel the warmth, the beating of three hearts giving life to us. Feel us breathe. We breathe each other in and we release that breath in love.”
Helen sat very still for a long time. Her hand still held Shanna’s breast.
We whispered and held and kissed her. She spoke in a whisper, “I am loved. I am whole. I am loved by Shanna and Pete. I am complete. Thank you.”
Shanna kissed her. I kissed her neck. My hands held her torso, surrounding her with my arms. She took my hands and put them on her breasts. Both had scars. There was no hurrying. When the time was right Shanna stood up and helped Helen to stand. I stood and gathered Helen up, carrying her to the bedroom. I put her down in the middle of the bed. Shanna put herself next to her best friend and helped her spread her legs.
I pulled her panties to the side and tasted Helen for the first time. As my tongue touched her I heard Shanna whisper, “Pete is your lover too. He loves you as I do. You are lovely. You can relax and let the feelings take you where they will. Our love surrounds you, protects you, helps you soar.”
Her juices flowed and she began responding to the touch of my fingers and tongue within her most sacred places. I looked up and saw Shanna sucking on her breast and I saw Shanna’s other hand stroking her own slit.
My hand joined Shanna’s in her pussy and the three of us were joined. When Helen shuddered and arched her back I felt Shanna do the same. As they came they kissed.
I covered the three of us and we slept together in Shanna’s bed. At quarter after six the alarm brought us rudely into the present. We kissed good morning even with morning breath. We showered together, holding Helen up and helping her get really clean. While they dressed I made breakfast. When it was time for them to leave for work I kissed them both good-bye and watched them go.
In between the alarm sounding and the door closing as they left, many, many kisses were shared.
I cleaned up the dinner and breakfast dishes, washed the sheets off the bed and cleaned the bathroom before I left for home.
At home I opened the door into the kitchen and saw the table was clean and empty. I opened the fridge and saw there were no cupcakes. I checked the freezer. No cupcakes. They weren’t in my office or in my bedroom either.
From past experience I knew Beth had a mid-morning break at ten-fifteen. At ten-fourteen I called her.
“Good Morning, Pete!” She answered.
“I looked all over. Where are my cup cakes?”
“I was so mad at you for setting them out there, I threw them away!”
“I guess my note wasn’t explicit enough. It said don’t eat them. It should have said Don’t touch them, move them or eat them.”
“Please, let me finish. I threw them away right after I saw them. I made dinner and kept thinking about the cupcakes. They were in the trash, gone, out of sight but not out of mind. I got them out of the trash and walked them out to the alley and tossed the package into a dumpster. Two hours later I could still see them in my mind. I could almost taste them!”
“You went to the dumpster?”
“No, but I learned something. When I walked into the building this morning I saw a package of cupcakes at the coffee place on the first floor. I bought them and ate both of them before I got to my desk!”
I wanted to ask questions. I bit hard on my tongue and didn’t.
“I understand now. I’m a chocolate cupcake. It was mean and heartless of me to deprive you of me, when I was right there in front of you.”
“May I ask a question?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“Does that mean you’re taking the cupcake away or giving me what I asked for?”
“I just… I don’t want sex!”
“Then get out, please.”
“I will. I talked to my sister last night again and I’ll be moving in with them this weekend.”
“No. Your things can move this weekend. You’re gone. I told you to decide by today. Your things could stay until the weekend but you needed to be out by today! I was clear. You’ve decided. I’ll be a good guy. You and your sister and Rob can come by tonight before eight and get whatever you want. After eight, whatever is here stays until the weekend.”
She didn’t say anything. I just heard the click of the phone.
I made a trip to the home center and got a new lock set for the front and back doors, called the garage opener company and found out how to reprogram the garage door opener. The phone was ringing when I got home.
Rob said, “I thought we were friends.”
“I thought so too. What’s up?”
“I’ve got two crying women living here now. They’re angry, upset and taking it out on me!”
“I’ve got something to say to you. I want you to know I understand what you’re going through. There is a cure for the ailment I had and that you have. I had to stand up and say, “I haven’t had enough of what I need. Either I get what I need or we’re done!” That’s the hardest thing I’ve ever said. She picked, we’re done. Now you’re in the position I was in. Your life is full of something you don’t want and sure as hell don’t need. I can’t tell you what to do to cure it. I can just tell you the name of the ailment.”
“I have the feeling I don’t want to know.”
“Ok. So, why did you call?”
“We’re supposed to come to your house today to get all Beth’s things. Can I come now? Maybe if I start now I can get it all done today.”
“I’ll be here. I’ll leave the back door unlocked, just stroll on in. By the way, I bought a stack of boxes for you, just in case Beth chose moving out. I’ll have them in the hallway for you.”
Less than an hour later he came through the back door with two friends. They worked hard and because I am a nice guy I bought them a six pack of cold beer while they worked. My stereo played music they liked and they did get almost everything packed before Beth and Alison walked in.
I’d seen Beth’s car park on the street and turned down the stereo and collected the empty beer cans before she walked in. Alison arrived less than a minute later. I stayed out of sight the first few minutes they were there.
Rob wanted to know if they were taking the bed. Beth hesitated. I said, “Take it.” She turned and saw me standing in the doorway. I said, “So far they haven’t taken anything from the kitchen. You want anything?”
Alison said, “You should take kitchen stuff. You’ll need it when you get your own place, someday.” I saw Rob glance at me when Alison paused. I took two boxes off the floor into the kitchen. I didn’t put anything in them.
Beth and Alison came into the kitchen and Beth said, “By the way, there’s something wrong with the garage door.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I hit the remote and it didn’t budge.”
“I reprogrammed it today. Your remote will probably work on a garage door in Alaska.”
She reached into her purse and handed me the remote. “You might as well give it to your new woman. It won’t work for me anymore.”
“You say that like moving out was my idea. It isn’t. You can stay and you know exactly what needs to happen for that to be true.”
Alison looked at Beth and then at me. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to know. I’ve heard Beth’s side. I’d like to know your side.”
“Not a problem. A little over two years ago I got sick and when they did surgery they screwed up inside me. I don’t get erections any more. When we tried everything and nothing helped Beth said it would be Ok, there were lots of other things we could do for fun. We did those things until a few months ago. Beth decided she no longer wanted me to fondle her, play with her body or eat her pussy. She still wanted to sleep with me, but I wasn’t allowed to touch the goods. It came to a head last week and I gave her a choice. She could live with me as a roommate, sleeping in the guest room or she could get out. The third choice was she could spread herself and let me eat her as often as I might want to. This morning she decided to move out. That’s my side, the short version.”
Alison just stood there. Beth was looking into an empty box on the kitchen counter. Rob stood in the doorway with his mouth open. After a few seconds Rob said, “We’re done in the bedroom. What’s left?”
I helped Alison pack a set of dished Beth had bought. They were white with a ring of flowers around the edge. I helped her pack eight wine glasses as well. Beth left the kitchen and used the bathroom. Rob and his friends took the two boxes from the kitchen and left. Alison and I were still in the kitchen when Beth came back.
Alison said, “You fucked up good this time. I got the impression he wanted to fuck your ass or tie you up or something weird. You really fucked up.” She pushed Beth towards the door and said, “I’m sorry, Pete. I really am.”
When the door closed the phone rang. I answered without even glancing at the caller ID. It was Rob.
“What is the name of the ailment?”
“Pussy Whipped.”