2 comments/ 28719 views/ 1 favorites Loving in Silence: Neighbors Ch. 01 By: Captain Midnight Suggested by the stories by RedHairedandFriendly © A deaf couple welcomes a deaf-and-hearing couple as neighbors. "Well, look at that!" The above, and most of the dialogue that follows, is a translation of American Sign Language English to spoken English. Roger Cameron, the person who said those words, never moved his mouth, only his eyes and his fingers. "What's up?" Joyce Cameron, his wife, asked by the same method. She had walked into the living room in their Bethesda, Maryland, town home to see Roger looking out the window. Roger stepped aside and signed again. "Look at the moving van across the street," Roger signed. Joyce went to the window and looked. A man of about thirty was helping the movers direct traffic, while a woman in her early twenties -- about six years younger, it appeared - brought stuff out and set it on the curb. "New neighbors," Joyce signed, leaving out the Q for question because it was obviously so. "I'll have to have Relay call them and ask them if they want us to bring them a Welcome to the Neighborhood present." "Maybe you can ask them in person," Roger signed back. "Look." The man across the street went over to the woman and caught her eye. He signed for her to put the heavy box down; he could take care of it. The woman did. The man then went over to one of the movers and spoke. The woman walked over and said something to the mover as well. The mover mouthed something which looked like "Say that again?" The man repeated the same words and the mover nodded, and went over to his partner to talk about the heavy boxes. The couple ended with a quick peck on the cheek. Roger and Joyce looked at each other quizzically. "What do you think?" Roger asked Joyce. "I think she is VCO and maybe he's a hearing guy," Joyce answered. "He seems to know sign pretty well, though. They sure look like newlyweds to me." Roger flashed a mischievous grin and Joyce stuck her tongue out at him. She looked at the couple across the street again. VCO stands for Voice Carry Over. The person cannot hear, but can speak. Roger and Joyce knew many VCO people, usually elderly people whose ears had given out on them. But they also knew, or knew about, people who were born partially or mostly deaf or who lost their hearing early on through illness or traumatic event. These people relied on services called relays to make telephone calls. They would call an operator using a specialized telephone, the name of which varied but will be called TTY here. The operator would patch them through to a hearing person. The deaf or hearing-impaired person would speak as he or she always had, as would the hearing person -- the difference being that the hearing-impaired person couldn't hear the responses and had to see them via a little display readout window on the computer terminal plugged into their phone. The operator would hear both ends of the conversation, but would type the hearing person's responses and any background sounds he or she also heard. Joyce and her sister Abigail, who had perfect hearing, usually communicated TTY-to-TTY, but sometimes also communicated TTY to voice when Abigail was away from home and talked on her cell phone, which could take only limited text-messaging. The conversations were mostly routine, but Abigail and Joyce shared a bond that had recently grown intimate. Very intimate. Roger had been part of that bond as well and had been just as intimate with his sister, a divorcee raising three young children. The woman across the street rummaged through a box and pulled out a TTY phone and a regular phone. Joyce nodded in confirmation. She turned to Roger and pointed toward their bedroom. "I'm going to call Abbey and see if she can come over. She can interpret when we go over there, just in case. I wonder what the girl does. And I wonder what the guy does?" Roger shrugged his shoulders, and looked out the window some more. Joyce was typing a message to Abbey when Roger came into the room. He tapped Joyce on the shoulder and signed. "It looks like one of them is a student, probably the girl but maybe both of them. I saw her getting a book bag out of their car and looking through it. I can't read the titles from this far away, but I think they are textbooks. I know she has a bunch of spiral notebooks and a laptop too." "Great to hear!" Joyce signed back. She realized what she had said and blushed a little. Neither Joyce nor Roger had heard a sound in their living memory. They lived in a different world, adjacent to the hearing world and intermingling with it, but not a part of it. Both counted themselves lucky, if luck was a factor, that they had never lost the sensation of hearing the way many of the people they knew had. Those people needed to live in the hearing world even after they were pushed out. Roger knew things were different in the hearing world. One of his jobs was to teach hearing people about the world of the deaf. He and Joyce taught classes on their nights off from work. Abbey served as their interpreter, demonstrating in words what Roger and Joyce expressed with their hands. One of the classroom functions was to have half the class spend a session with foam-rubber plugs in their ears, and try to communicate to their hearing partners. Later in the classes, the students were to go home and wear the ear plugs continually with their significant others and children, if they had any, learning to communicate and learning what a deaf person feels -- and can observe. Abbey kept sets of ear plugs in her house, a mile away, as well. She had taught her three little ones -- a third-grade boy and twin pre-K girls -- how to communicate with Aunt Joy and Uncle Roger. Sometimes she used the ear plugs on the kids to help them understand how life would be like without hearing. Sometimes she used them on herself. Like that one memorable night a few weeks ago, when she and Joyce and Roger had shared that greatest intimacy. Abbey and her husband had broken up more than two years earlier, over trust issues. The divorce process had gone on for what seemed like forever. Abbey had always loved her sister and brother, but during the legal proceedings that got her custody and full child support, she had grown even closer to the couple. She didn't date often, but she always double-dated with Joyce and Roger. The guy sometimes broke up with her right then and there, or decided to back out on the date. It was on one of the latter dates where she and Joyce and Roger had been intimate. By prior agreement, on the drive home while she was at the wheel, Roger had touched her even more while Joyce, in the back seat, saw them (and they saw her) in the rear view mirror as Joyce also pleasured herself. Upon returning to Joyce and Roger's house, Joyce and Abbey had gone into the master bedroom, where Joyce had gone down on a woman for the first time and Abbey had received a woman's tongue for the first time. Then Roger had joined in, his manhood penetrating Abbey for the first time: first in the mouth as Joyce and Abbey shared the feel and taste of him and his seed, and then in her pussy while she pleasured Joyce with her tongue. The trio had fallen asleep after the orgasms were spent, but had awakened and made love again and again, including the two women lying atop one another as he licked and then plowed into both in alternation; in a F/F 69 as he took Joyce from behind and Abbey licked up what she could; and Joyce from behind as she went down on Abbey yet again. Abbey had taken the earplugs and had completely shut out all sound -- leaving sight, smell, taste and touch to overwhelm her and drive her to many orgasms. The trio had never repeated their lovemaking and didn't plan to. That didn't stop them from being the closest of friends, though. Nothing was secret from any of them. Oftentimes, including on the day of the first threesome date, Roger had played with Joyce's body as she tried to type. But this day he kept his hands to himself. He went back into the living room and watched the couple as they paid off the movers and went, hand in hand, into their house. He came back into the bedroom as Joyce finished her conversation, and told her that the couple did indeed look like they loved one another. "Abbey will be here in fifteen minutes," Joyce said, "and bring the kids with her. Phillip's arm is okay. We can go over and introduce ourselves. I think the little ones will charm that couple and if the guy doesn't sign much Abbey will be there to talk to him." Roger gave Joyce a chaste peck on the cheek and indicated through gesture that more would be to follow after the meeting. Abbey's van pulled up in the driveway reasonably close to the scheduled time. Abbey and the kids piled out, running to Aunt Joy and Uncle Roger. Roger asked Philip how the broken arm felt, and Philip signed back with dexterity. Joyce went over to Abbey and explained about the new neighbors, who were inside the house for the time being. "Do you think they are breaking in the bed?" Abbey asked, and then put one hand over her mouth in a gesture of "I can't believe I said that." Since the kids had their backs turned, she had dared ask it to see her sister's reaction, to see if Joyce would act shocked. Joyce merely smiled. "Why don't you go over there on your own and talk to them?" Joyce signed back. "I think Roger and Philip are up for some baseball practice and I want to show the girls a new recipe I learned off the Net." "Okay," Abbey signed. "If they are up to you two and the kids coming over, I'll call you on my cell through Relay. If not, I'll just tell them about my wonderful sister and brother and you can meet them on your own!" Within five minutes, Abbey had left and Joyce was with the girls in the kitchen. She was an avid cook and liked to make lots of things. Her nephew Philip was on one of his young-group baseball teams and was looking for a partner. Roger loved to watch baseball on TV, and Philip was teaching him the coaches' signs for pitching, batting and baserunning. Philip had been slowed up by a bike accident -- the broken arm referred to above -- and he wanted some practice throwing the ball and swinging the bat. Roger kept a spare bat, ball and glove in a closet and was enjoying practicing with his nephew. Philip thought Roger could be a coach because he was so observant of everything. Roger didn't know any interpreters to help him speak to the team, but he had read up on other deaf ballplayers from more than a century ago and liked the idea. He had grinned when he read the story of a 95-year-old ex-ballplayer who had celebrated his birthday by telling reporters to "call me Dummy, just like always." Another deaf-mute ballplayer, a pitcher, had actually invented the hand-signs communication by communicating in sign language to his manager and team members, who signed back the pitching choices and extended it to talking to the batters and baserunners as well. Roger had loved a story in one book where an umpire had learned sign language and had signed out an ejection from the game and a fine to the player, who had just cussed him out in sign. The umpire had been inspired by an earlier incident where the pitcher had mouthed a series of nasty names to him. While mixing a healthy snack, Joyce looked out the window at her nephew and her husband, who were having a grand old time. The girls reached up and tapped at Joyce whenever they wanted to say something, which was often. There was the first crush on a boy, which was discussed; what they had learned that week in school (they were placed in different activity groups), and things they just did for fun. Joyce smiled through it all. Abbey was an amazing mom. Joyce had just put some of the baked items in the oven when she saw a strobe light go off. "Telephone," she signed to the girls. She and they went into the living room. She read the caller ID and signed, "It's Relay." The girls looked puzzled. Joyce quickly signed, "Someone who talks is trying to call me. Someone else will type it so I can read it." Joyce was a little surprised, but only a little, to find that Abbey was talking on her cell phone to a Relay operator, who typed for her. She wondered about why Abbey wouldn't have come back to the house -- she had been gone quite a while. She signed quickly, "It's Mommy," to the girls and chatted with her older sister. Abbey was very excited and the Relay operator had a lot of trouble keeping up with her words. She had met the couple and had made an instant friendship with them. They were newlyweds, all right. Josh Crane was a detective with the Washington , D.C. police force and Samantha, his wife, was a psychology student in at Gallaudet University . They had talked and talked. Samantha was the deaf one of the couple and had a real story to tell -- too long for Abbey to tell on the phone. She wanted Joyce and Roger to meet the couple and see how they did. The poor Relay operator had a terrible time translating Joyce's sentence structure into spoken English. Part of it was due to Joyce being distracted by the kids climbing into their lap and asking to talk to Mommy, but ASL uses a very different grammar from standard English and the operator -- obviously a new person -- hadn't mastered it. Joyce suggested that the operator take ASL classes on his (he identified as male) time off. The operator typed his thanks in parentheses. Abbey spoke more slowly and the rest of the conversation was much smoother. Although it didn't come out until later, the operator thanked Abbey by voice at the end. Joyce excused herself to get the snacks from the oven, asking Abbey if she thought the neighbors would like to share. Abbey was away for a minute and said they would love to. Both Josh and Samantha loved to cook and wanted to share recipes. Samantha had many deaf friends and acquaintances, but never one who was also a neighbor. Josh wanted to meet Roger and chat about life in the D.C. metro area, where he and Samantha had just moved from Georgia . Four-year-old girls aren't known for their patience, but Joyce managed to keep them occupied -- even when the oven timer started buzzing and the girls pulled Joyce away from the TTY for several minutes to get the goodies out of the oven. They climbed on her lap and "helped" her type the responses to their mom. Late in the conversation, Abbey revealed that Roger had gotten tickets to a music concert to be held the next weekend, a solo guitar recital for charity. Because music will play a big role in the development of the characters, it is fair to spend some time on how the family viewed music. They loved it. Joyce and Roger too. Neither of them had ever heard a note, but both had experienced a wide spectrum through the visual arts. Abbey had been an accomplished clarinetist through high school, and had sung some as well. She taught Joyce the lyrics and the feeling of the songs she enjoyed. Later, Joyce and Roger had splurged on a satellite-television system which gave them music channels -- the music played and images, sometimes simple shifting shapes and some elaborate videos. When Abbey became a mom, she heard of a TV series (which won't be named because it actually exists) on the local PBS affiliate, where a deaf girl and her hearing cousin got into various adventures while communicating the situations in sign language. The girl's mom, a descendant from a large family of singers who had been stars in the big-band era and then on television two decades later, composed her own songs to accompany the adventures, singing and signing all at once. That's how the kids had learned much of their sign language. Marriage and motherhood had put music appreciation on Abbey's back burner, but she had found solace in music as the divorce progressed. It helped that the kids had inherited their mom's love of music as well. A few times, Abbey had sung karaoke for Joyce and Roger and the kids while signing the lyrics. Sometimes she intentionally blew a line to get a laugh. But concert-going had still been out of the picture because she had never really trusted babysitters other than her sister and brother. The only time she had gotten a sitter was that magical night a few weeks ago. That was about to change. It was most unusual for Abbey, who had had made a lot of tough decisions and issued a lot of orders in her life, to sound as excited as a little kid (the relay operator had gotten caught up in her excitement and inserted (EXCITED TONE) (HAPPY TONE) and many exclamation points). Abbey had only been this excited once lately, at the triple lovemaking previously described. Joyce had to ask if there were a couple extra tickets, offering to pay for them. After a minute worth of (ONE MOMENT PLEASE) coming up repeatedly on the screen, the answer came back that the two extra tickets were comped, carryovers from a couple of people who had to cancel. Josh was interpreting the music for Samantha and was happy to have another couple to go with them. After a quick SKSK to end the conversation, Joyce and the girls went out to the back yard. Philip was testing his throwing arm and doing quite well. Roger signed the details of the workout to Joyce, not that it was necessary when she saw her nephew's broad grin. "Can we all go over to see Mommy?" Joyce signed to the kids. "She has some new friends and she'd like you to meet them." Philip knew way too much about his mother's and father's divorce. He seemed a bit wary of Mommy's new friends, worrying for her sake. Seemed like the only times she was happy was when she went out with Aunt Joy and Uncle Roger. The girls were very outgoing and -- despite the warnings about meeting strangers -- eager to meet new friends. Joyce explained that Mommy's new friends were grownups and didn't have any kids. The kids didn't seem to mind, but you never knew. A few minutes later, Roger balled up his fist and banged on the door across the street. Josh Crane answered with a warm smile and a hearty handshake. He signed a welcome and led everybody to the kitchen. Abbey and Samantha were seated at a table looking at a photo album, which they quickly closed. Samantha's eyes sparkled as she shook Joyce's hand. Abbey explained that Samantha really wanted to chat with Joyce and Roger about their lives, and about hers. Roger and Josh signed hellos as Josh greeted the kids warmly. He spoke to them, looking around at the other adults to see if they were lip readers. Samantha was, and signed the question to the others about whether they were comfortable having Josh use the spoken word. No problem, Roger signed. He and Josh were soon on their way to the back yard, kids in tow, to check out some landscaping Josh hoped to do. Joyce joined Samantha and Abbey at the table. The deaf women compared their ages (Joyce was older, but only by two and a half years), their upbringing (which will be more fully outlined later), how they had come to the nation's capital to get degrees from Gallaudet (Joyce had finished the previous year and gotten a job); and what it was like to live with a hearing person. Samantha explained that she had known Josh for six years, after going back to high school. When asked about the "back to high school" bit, she opened the album. The photo was so grotesque it almost made Joyce throw up. There was a little girl of about six, with tubes and wires coming out of everywhere. Her head was shaved to reveal a devastating injury to one side of the skull. One ear was gone. Joyce looked up and realized Samantha had a surgically reconstructed ear. "Oh, my God!" Joyce mouthed the words, then covered her mouth in embarrassment. Samantha gave a firm gesture about not wanting pity. "Yes, that's me," she said. "I got run over by a car while popping wheelies on my bike. Severe brain damage and many bones broken. I was comatose for a month." Loving in Silence: Neighbors Ch. 01 Joyce's face was a study as she thought about the children out in the back yard. "I could never hear again, but my mom and dad supported me and did everything they could to get me back into a normal life. It took twelve years for me to get back in the mainstream. I was a high school freshman at age eighteen. I didn't think I'd make it a lot of times. My friends helped me so much. There's a girl who was a senior then, now she's a patrol officer for my hometown Sheriff's Department. She got in a lot of trouble because of me, and she supported me even more because of that. There was a young detective who set himself to clear her of the charges. I couldn't marry the girl, but I could marry the detective. He had loved me all those years." "How long have you been married?" Joyce signed. "Just after my graduation ... I was a June bride," Samantha signed back. "It will be a year next Father's Day. I had a little girl's crush on him before the accident. He blamed himself for it, in fact. But," she added, dropping her eyes pensively, "if I hadn't had the accident, maybe I wouldn't have married him." Joyce strategically opened the Tupperware container full of the baked goodies. Samantha's nose caught the scent and her eyes lit up. Even Abigail reveled in it. "Is that for me and Josh?" Samantha signed in astonishment. "It was for the kids," Abigail signed, "but I asked her to make more so you could have your share. It's guaranteed healthy." Samantha cocked her head and signed to Joyce: "Did you go to Life Skills school?" "Yes I did," Joyce replied. "The school district made me do it. They weren't very smart. But I learned how much I love to cook and keep house. Which is good because Roger can't do either one. If he were here he'd stick his tongue out at me but he'd be lying!" Samantha let out the warmest smile yet. "I was in Life Skills because I had to learn everything over again. I was still so smart but it wouldn't come out. They figured cooking would be an outlet. They were right. I stopped feeling all the pain when I made stuff. Josh can cook a good meal but I love making it for him. Guess I'm still the little homemaker I'm not supposed to be!" She gave the sign for "Laughing Out Loud." Abigail help up her hand to request to speak. "I was a homemaker for nine years. It really isn't so bad. If I had found a man who really supported me ..." she slowly lowered her hands. Samantha signed: "Abigail, I can read people. I am going to be a psychologist. I will also really really really want to be your friend. Joyce, I hope I am yours as well." Joyce smiled and signed that she hoped so too. Then she asked a question. "Samantha, do you speak?" Samantha nodded. "Would you speak? I am a good lip reader. Abigail and I always sign but I know she enjoys voice as well, if you like to voice I can follow along." Both Samantha and Abigail looked puzzled, but Samantha spoke. "Abigail, what would you like to do with your life?" Abigail paused. And fidgeted. To kill time, she spoke. "Your voice is very good, Samantha." "I taught myself. I was taken from the hearing world and I wanted to rejoin it. Also, the other cop, the girl in high school, realized that my interpreter was sending me the wrong signs. It's a long story. But I started speaking when I was ready, when I knew Josh loved me. I wanted to tell his ears that I loved him back. There are lots of ways to tell him, and I didn't want to miss a single one." "Wow," Abigail said. Joyce smiled. "Does she --" Samantha pointed to Joyce -- "tell you she loves you enough? You are really good friends." "The best. She and Roger couldn't be closer to me." Abigail wondered if she would confess the lovemaking fest next. Her eyes flitted to Joyce. Joyce put a hand on Abigail's and started signing. "Abigail's husband never really loved her. I can say that even if she won't. The best thing he ever did was give her those children." Abigail nodded in agreement. Samantha smiled. "I can't be a mom yet, but I hope to when I get through with school and get set up in practice. Those kids are darling! How did you get them to be so well-behaved?" Abigail blushed and stammered something about patience and careful discipline. Samantha smiled broadly. "I hope you give me lessons." Joyce had observed her sister and her neighbor and had realized how much Abigail needed a friend. Samantha couldn't be nicer, but Abigail was little-girl shy and eager to talk. Joyce looked at Samantha and saw something in her expression that said she had read that in Abigail, too. Samantha continued the chat, but she looked directly at Joyce. She chose her words carefully and her facial expressions and lip movements conveyed much under the surface. "I try to carry on as a hearing person as much as I can. I hope that won't bother you. Abigail told me a lot of people stare at you two." Joyce nodded, and signed: "We take it in stride. It's their problem, not ours. We've just never felt trapped. I hope you haven't too much." Samantha replied: "It was tough for a long time. It will still be tough, being a cop's wife. I may need friends like you a lot. I also have some physical disabilities too. I get really bad headaches and I'm not coordinated enough to drive." She broke the glance and looked down. "I think some people thought I was stupid -- not just because I was deaf but because my brain was hurt so bad." She looked up and framed her words with unusual distinction. "I ... am ... not ... stupid. I was the valedictorian in high school and I got straight A's in community college. I just need help with some things, that's all." Abigail spoke, just as emphatically: "Do you see why I like her?" Joyce reached over with both hands. She gave the "Vulcan love caress," from the "Star Trek" episode that featured Spock's parents, to her sister and her neighbor. Then she pulled back her hands and signed: "I think you two are incredibly wonderful! I hope you're two of my seven best friends," pointing toward the back yard and the other five. Roger, Josh and the kids came in almost as if on cue. Abigail excused herself and went into the living room with the children. A much more routine conversation followed among the remaining four adults, with Samantha explaining that she could not drive and getting reassurances about the specialized buses. Josh and Samantha explained what they knew about the concert coming up. They had never heard of the artist, but he was apparently very popular about the metro area. Following up on Samantha's talk about being a policeman's wife, Roger and Joyce talked about support groups for police and their spouses, and asked Josh about his forthcoming duties. Josh had seen some hairy situations as a Sheriff's Deputy, and had a set of recommendation letters detailing how he was a thorough thinker and did not hesitate in dangerous situations, having planned for them in advance. Samantha didn't want to talk about the "trouble" she had been in earlier, but she did say it was when she was in class for the last six weeks of her freshman year, returning full-time as a sophomore. She smiled as she recounted her friend from school getting a baby brother right on Mother's Day. Later, she had befriended her friend's sister, who was younger and had a couple of years left until graduation. She and Josh had often visited the parents' home over the years until he applied for this job. Finally, the treats were all eaten or put in storage for later. Joyce and Samantha made an appointment to do more baking, and Joyce and Roger went to pick up Abigail and the kids. On the walk home, Abigail thanked Joyce for asking her to come by and help meet the Cranes. Joyce smiled. Roger and the kids chatted about the new neighbors and suggested they all get together to play at a park. Abigail kissed her sister and brother -- chastely -- as she loaded the kids into the van. Roger gave a high sign to Philip, who seemed much happier now that his mom was happy. They waved as the van drove away. That night, while preparing for bed, Joyce put out an idea that had been growing in her mind since she met her neighbor. "Have we been going the wrong way with Abigail?" Roger, rightly puzzled, asked what his wife meant. "We've looked over the guys she's dated and we think they're all wrong for her. Shouldn't we think about who is right?" Roger tried to think it over. "Who is right? You mean the right guy or the right KIND of guy?" Joyce nodded to the second alternative. "Try to think. What made you want to fuck her ... to make love to her? And what got her to let you and me do all that?" Roger let out a silent whistle, extended, not a wolf whistle but more a sign of intense thought. "You've been her best friend all your life. You could figure out what she needed. I ... I guess I just followed your lead. I treated her pretty much the way I treated you. I thought about her the way I think about you. You're different, but I got the general ideas from you about how to treat her. Knew what you liked, tried it with her, followed her cues. If I loved somebody else, I guess I'd do the same thing." Joyce nodded. "But she gave it all up to me and to you. She never opened up to that fool she married, anybody could see that. What do you think she wanted?" Roger frowned. "Appreciation is a good starting point. I guess she could turn me on just by being nice to you. And she looks a lot like you so that means she's beautiful." Joyce stuck out her tongue, but then smiled. Roger continued. "I guess what did it for me was how she wanted to be like ... us. She wanted you and me to find her sweet spots, so to say. There were a lot of places I touched that I could tell she'd never been touched before. Some places not even a great lover would think of. They got my cock hard, but for her ... I guess for her they went to her soul." Joyce nodded. "She can't possibly want to become deaf. She wanted to become one of us. If being one of us and loving like we do meant losing her hearing, she was willing to do that. In the short run, it was heaven for her. But she'd have to be lucky as hell to find someone she wants to become one with." Roger looked searchingly at his wife. "Was Samantha lucky as hell?" He was pretty sure he knew the answer. "Yes," Joyce signed. "I think she knows what Abbey is going through." Joyce pursed her lips, not wanting what came next to sound "bad." "I think Abigail is Samantha's first case study. I think she really wants to observe her, get to know her like we do." "And after that?" "I'll have to think about this a little, but maybe Samantha can help me find out the kind of person Abbey could love. Maybe it's a man, maybe it's a woman, I don't know. I know Abigail doesn't. But when Abbey talked to me before we went over there, it was like she had an early Christmas present. I wonder ... I wonder if that concert is more than just music. I wonder if maybe it means something else to her." Roger frowned. "Do we know the guitarist?" Joyce thought. "The name seems a little familiar ..." Then she snapped her fingers. "Wait a minute. Do we still have the school annuals packed away? Did you take them to the storage unit?" "No, never got around to it," Roger replied, a sheepish look on his face. Whereupon Joyce gave him a big kiss. "Wait right here," Joyce said and left the room. Roger did as told, getting into his pajamas and turning down the bed. Joyce returned, carrying four volumes from her high school. She laid each out on the bed and opened them to the orchestra pages. "Look, that's him," she signed. He was in the first two group pictures with Abigail, and on his own in the last two after she graduated. Roger turned the pages and found that the fellow had made All-State orchestra every year. Since Abigail had too, they must have known each other. "Puppy love?" Roger signed. "You don't see older girls having crushes on younger boys." Joyce stuck her tongue out at him. "Better watch that tongue or I'll make you use it," Philip signed back. "Oh, I'll use it all right," Joyce replied. She walked over to him and gave him a big kiss. Then she asked him to put the annuals away while she went to the bathroom. When Joyce returned, Roger's eyes widened. She was carrying a package of condoms. Since she was on birth control pills faithfully, the condoms meant only one thing -- she wanted to keep his cock clean. And that meant his cock was going someplace it rarely visited. "Are you sure?" Roger signed. He didn't want to hurt her. "I have been thinking of a way to make it work," Joyce signed after putting the package on the bedside table. "Lie down here beside me and do what I do." Roger lay on his back on the bed, and Joyce lay to one side of him. She took one of his hands in one of hers and communicated through finger spelling. "For this to work, we both need to be SO ready," she told him. "So let's touch and caress and get us both wet with desire. But don't touch anything of mine that I haven't touched on you." Roger contemplated his earlier shower. He was pretty sure he had cleaned everything she wanted to touch. The little homemaker had bought extra items for personal hygiene, including a brush for those hard-to-reach places and special disinfectant soap that contained a soothing gel as well. Yep, he thought, he had been wise to use that tonight. He didn't think she'd go that far, but if he did ... Then he banished those thoughts from his head for a while as she nuzzled up to his neck. He wasn't sensitive in a good way there like she was, but the thought sent a pleasurable shiver through his nervous system. The two of them had plenty of "moods" from ultra-assertive on his part to hyper-drive by both to very subtle to very assertive by her. This night was going to be a mixture, something they didn't try very often. When she eased back, he kissed the side of her neck as well, finding the sweet spots. The couple continued touching each other, staying above the waists for now. Gradually they unbuttoned the pajama shirts. Joyce allowed Roger to take the lead a number of times, caressing spots on her that sent sparks through his fingers. When Joyce lay of top of Roger to kiss his chest, their groins touched. He could feel her heat through the pajama pants, and she felt his hardness. She looked up at him and signed it was OK for him to move his hips. She pushed her knees around his hips, her pubic bone at the head of his penis, her cleft down near the base. She moved easily back and forth as she teased his nipples. After a little bit she rolled off and lay on her back, her legs still apart, the pajama pants pulled tight against her tummy and between her legs. He could almost see her lips through the fabric, and he knew he saw a little of a wet spot. He settled in between her legs, and now he felt the wetness against his tummy. He could feel wetness of his own, at the tip of his cock. That had no place on her body to touch her, to he put one leg over hers and rubbed against the inside of her knee while he licked around and beneath her breasts. Anyone could tell the nipples were hard, but he took his time before paying attention to them. Her hands caressing his hair tapped out a message of appreciation on his skull. As he moved from one breast to the other, he took her hand and spelled out a welcome message. "When it's time," she spelled back, "I want the lube to be all me. "Don't let the air dry me out, okay? We can use the K-Y later but I want you to move in my juices." "Okay," he spelled out. "But I want a favor too." "What is it?" "You'll see. I think you'll like it." Joyce shivered in anticipation and began rubbing Roger's neck and back. She reached down as far as she could and trailed a finger up Roger's spine. She trailed it up again and again, increasing the pressure each time he pleasured her. Roger's mouth finally left his wife's breast and moved down onto her belly, just above the waistband of her pajamas. He reached over with his hands and put them in the small of her back, feeling the waistband from behind. She wore tight panties under the loose pajama pants, and he felt that waistband too. He nudged down the pajama pants with his chin and began licking around her tummy. Joyce arched her back as his hands went up her spine, and then she sat partway up as he reached her upper back and neck. He repeated her motions to him, but also pushed up and massaged the muscles leading to her shoulders, pushing her up and down against his tongue. Joyce massaged Roger's chest with her fingertips, and cuddled his face. Joyce felt very, very turned on. The two layers of clothing against her pussy helped hold in the liquids and created a very pleasurable pressure on her clit and lips. But she had greater ideas. She put her hands on Roger's sides and urged him to come up to kiss her. Roger's pajama pants had come unbuttoned. Joyce reached inside and put her hand on his lower abdomen. She looked him in the eye and blinked, asking him to touch her abdomen as well. He put his hand under her waistband and left it there, on top of her panties. She nodded and put her plan into its first motion. As they shared a deep tongue kiss, Joyce moved her hand down Roger's hip, carefully avoiding the stiffened organ. She trailed her fingers across the inside of his thigh, switched to the inside of the other thigh and cupped his balls. Roger did the same, cupping her sex from outside the panties. Joyce lifted the scrotum out of the way and let it rest on the back of her hand as she caressed the area beneath it, the prostate and the smooth flesh that covered it. Roger was very sweaty there and Joyce's fingers soon became wet. So did Roger's fingers. He slipped them into the leghole of her panties and went to her perineum. He let her juices coat the fingers, the knuckles of which were shallowly between her lips. Joyce let her fingers go to Roger's anus. She didn't plan to penetrate it, but she wanted him to encourage her to put his finger inside hers. She circled the puffed-up flesh, brought her fingers back and caressed his prostate again. She moved up his groin quickly and directly touched his cockhead for the first time. She swirled her finger around, soaking up the juices he had leaked, and sent her hand back to his rosebud. There she bathed it with his juice and hoped he would take the hint. Roger did. He brought the tip of his forefinger up to the base of her pussy, the reservoir, and dipped it inside her as deeply as he could. He gathered her fluids on his fingerprint area, then rubbed against the tunnel with his tips and joints. Joyce pulled away from his mouth and let out a long sigh of thanks. Joyce and Roger repeated this several more times. Roger smeared Joyce's sex juices around her rosebud, using two fingers to pull her cheeks apart and get the anus ready for his finger. He let another finger enter her vagina and massage it to keep her flowing. Finally he let his forefinger push inside her nether opening. Joyce opened her mouth wide with a sigh. She took his cock in her hand and began rubbing it up and down. Then, while signaling him to hold his fingers as they were, she twisted her upper body around. She reached for a bedside drawer and opened it. She got out some alcohol wipes in a box and placed them near him, and pointed to a soiled-waste container she had bought from a medical store. She signaled "Not yet" and pulled his pants to his knees. She lifted her hips so he could pull her pants off, while keeping on her panties. Then she twisted around and began to lick him, every part of the area she had touched. Roger felt a tickle, especially to his prostate area. He let out a little gasp. He didn't want to reciprocate while his finger was still inside Joyce's bottom, so he waited and moved it around to help her get accustomed to the penetration that was to come. Loving in Silence: Neighbors Ch. 01 Joyce finally signaled that it was OK for him to lick her. She knelt over him in a 69 position and took his cock in her mouth, using his hands on his scrotum and his prostate. Remembering her injunction, Roger didn't remove Joyce's panties. He moved her panties aside only part way, embedding them within her pussy lips. He licked her clit through the material and tasted the lips. Joyce had a small orgasm during the licking. She lifted up Roger's cock and quickly reached for the items she had gathered on the bed. She opened the box of condoms and tore open a packet. She bade Roger pull his finger out of her bottom and tossed a sanitary wipe packet to him. Then she got up on her hands and knees, stroking her pussy, as he readied himself. Roger cleaned up and tossed the soiled wipe into the medical-waste container, and rolled the condom down his cock as quickly as he could. Joyce hadn't adjusted her panties, which were rolled up between her pussy lips. He got up and knelt behind her. Fingers moved the rolled-up panties aside just enough to reveal the whole vulva and anus, both glistening. Roger slowly and surely eased his cock into the pussy, his fingers working on Joyce's clit. Even through the condom, he could feel her pulsations. After thoroughly lubricating, he withdrew his cock and positioned it at the entrance to her bottom. The fingers he had used on her clit were poised at the entrance to her pussy, his palm upward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, Roger entered his wife in two ways at once. He steadied himself on his knees and reached around with his free hand to her face. She kissed his fingers and sucked on them. Finally, his fingers were in as far as they could go. The sensitive flesh of the fingerprints felt Joyce's upper wall. He withdrew them a little as his cock went in further, feeling a hardness through two layers of interior walls. He was touching his own cock in a semi-masturbatory way. He reveled in the feeling. He continued to push in until his pubic hairs were wedged firmly against Joyce's buttocks. He reveled in that feeling, of full penetration, too. Joyce's insistent sucking of Roger's fingers reminded him that she wanted movement and plenty of it. He pulled most of the way out of both her openings and pushed in again, faster this time. He was using two fingers on her pussy, and he thrust a few more times before withdrawing them and adding a third. The index and fourth fingers caressed her upper walls; the middle finger dipped into her reservoir and headed up to massage the entrance to her womb. His cock slid in her tight tunnel in a depression between the two fingers. His thumb bent over and massaged her outer genitals, searching for the clit. Joyce lowered her face and shoulders to the bed. One hand clutched the covers with a death grip; the other grasped Roger's hip to push and pull him more and more. She had never been with another man and had never felt two cocks at once, but this was even better than she hoped. Tears filled her eyes. The nerves of her rectum, which ordinarily sent messages of discomfort to her brain, were instead coordinating messages of pleasure with those of her inflamed vagina and swollen clitoris. She uttered sounds that no one heard, thrusting back to emphasize them. Roger's face was red as a beet and he was breathing hard. His climax was approaching and he knew it. He tried to finger-spell it on Joyce's face, then grabbed the hand clenching the covers and held it tightly. Joyce redoubled her thrusting. Joyce's orgasm didn't trigger Roger's -- he was already to the point of no return -- but he enjoyed it just the same. Spurt after spurt went into the condom. He felt her pussy clamp down on his fingers at roughly the same intervals. He rubbed her G-spot as much as he could between contractions. Joyce and Roger made hoarse, incomprehensible sounds that neither one could hear. Finally Roger withdrew his cock from Joyce's bottom. He still had a mission. He peeled off the condom and threw it into the medical container. He quickly cleaned off the fingers that had held the condom. Then he scooted up to Joyce and offered his semen-covered cock to her. Joyce took it willingly. She licked and sucked on it, swallowing as much as remained of the sperm-laden fluid. Then she repeated some of her earlier licking under Roger's balls. Roger felt for Joyce's breasts and found the nipples were still hard. He returned his fingers to her cunt and found it still very wet and willing. He urged her up, lay on his back, and quickly rolled her poor panties down her thighs. Joyce peeled the panties off quickly and straddled Roger. She put his hand at her anal opening and slowly fed his cock into her pussy. His finger was still wet, and he penetrated her bottom easily. This time it was longer and slower, with Roger's free hand caressing much more of Joyce. But the results were still the same. He still touched the head of his cock, and her walls, in two different ways. Roger went more than fifteen minutes before he shot off this time. Joyce had multiple orgasms. After her third one, she leaned over forward onto him, dislodging his finger from her rectum, and rested her head on his chest. With his other hand, he caressed her face as he wigged his hips, until finally he could take no more and shot a load deep inside her. Then they both rested for a while. "That was so beautiful ..." Joyce signed. "Who would have thought we could find such beauty in what is usually ugliness?" Roger smiled and kissed Joyce on the lips as he reached for the sanitary wipes. "We get some breaks, don't we?" he spelled out. "We lose our hearing and it enhances the other senses. We go to special schools and find one another. It works out in the end." Joyce got off Roger now and used the wipes to clean herself. She looked sadly at the panties and left the room to let them soak in the washing machine. While she was gone, the telephone flashed. Roger checked the time and was knocked for a loop. Who could be calling at so late an hour? He searched his mind for whether or not he had given out their phone number to Josh and Samantha. He assured himself he hadn't, but they could have told Abigail and she could have programmed it into her cell phone. That left Abbey herself. Was it real trouble? She normally went to bed soon after the kids did. During the divorce and the custody battles she had often been insomniac and had called to check up. But those were resolved now, weren't they? He hurried over to the TTY and took the call. He froze until Samantha came back into the room and showed her the message from Abbey. "I am pregnant." (To be continued)