1 comments/ 29673 views/ 0 favorites Jip Ch. 02 By: cantdog Part 2, A Night In The Life Jip was at his aunt's place at the end of part one. He is still there, spending the night with Renee, the Haitian woman he'd met earlier in the week. "I've never gone to bed with a woman before. To sleep. It feels very strange." Jip hugged her. "I want to feel you, all warm, right beside me, and go to sleep smelling you there. You know? I'd like that very much." "It can be comforting," Renee's voice came softly. His talk of smelling brought sharp memories of her loss. "I wish we could always do that, and have nice babies to sleep with and make comforted by smelling good and being warm. I miss family, Jips." "Cuddling to sleep." He had to explain the word. "I'm sorry to cry, Jips. I'm happy to be here with you, but I cry just the same." "You can cry. I'm sorry you don't have your babies here, too." That wasn't quite what he meant, but he had to speak in simple words to be understood. Jip held her quietly. She had so much more than he did, he reflected, in important ways. And she'd lived more, lost more. They were so different, it was impossible to see how he could be any more than a toy to her, a young man to play with. What else did he have for her? He had to lie to everyone; he wasn't free to acknowledge any of this. That was an uncomfortable line of thought. Was he just a toy? How was he acting? How do toys act? Much the way he was, he supposed. She smelled so nice. She looked so elegant and amazing. She fucked like hell on wheels! He could dig being played with, it was okay! But it was sad to mean nothing. Toys mean nothing, even if you have a real affection for them. She turned and hid her face in his chest, and snuggled a little, so he hugged her and held her. The comfort was real, he could do that. What about the silver thread they had now? What did she mean by that? For sure, he could be a hundred seventy-eight and still never forget her. He didn't need a silver thread for that. "I feel so stupid and useless to you. All I can do is hug you." "You are not useless. I'm not alone now." "Well, no. But I'm still not much good to you; I'm still a kid right now." "Many Ayiti men as old as you have families and work. But I see that you must do the schooling, you must finish." She lifted her magnificent head and looked at him, suddenly refocused. "You will go and study in a college?" "I plan to, yes." It was a gauge of their relationship's depth that she didn't know that already. They talked about Jip's future and hers for a long time. Finally, she shook her head and kissed him. "You will not want me coming to your college, pti Jips-a. A foreigner. And so dark. And with children from other people. It is too silly to think." "I've been thinking it, though." "No. How can I do this to you?" "You think I can't make you happy?" "Oh, don't be silly. We have had sex, but you can have sex with anyone. You find an American woman, Jips. All of them will have sex with you--" Jip laughed. "But they will! Women are not all foolish!" "I'm sorry! I was thinking about all of them!" "I said that wrong. I am not a good plan for you, Jips! Do not make one fuck pull you out of your good life. You will blame me for all your miserable. And it will be true!" "I know we're very different. But what will you find? Some Rhode Island Haitian man? Are there three of those? Four? And some will be married already. So who will be the one, for you?" "I can't tell." "It'll be a guy like me, Renee. And he'll be just as American as I am!" "Maybe not!" "If he can have you, why can't I have you? And Jési, Pol, and Annika-- if you were married to an American, you could have them right away, right?" "Yes, but you are not thinking. You can't marry me so soon, so young, and have, bang bang bang all of a sudden three little children, and pay all that, and pay the college and do the study there, it is not thinking!" "I will have thousands of dollars in school loans to pay even without you." "You see?" "But what's another few thousand once you have all those thousands? You just look at me and say, he's too young. You think, he's never going to be able to do this." "You're unfair! I think of you, Jips!" "I love you. I want you to be happy." "I say the same to you! But how can you be happy to do such a thing?" "Listen: you think to marry you will make me unhappy? But if you marry a guy named Joe or a guy named Steve, what makes him any different? Won't Joe be unhappy? Won't Steve be unhappy?" "How can I tell this things, Jips? Am I seeing the future?" "You can't see my future either! You know what I mean! I tell you, marrying you doesn't have to mean unhappiness. For a man who loves you, it could be the best thing that ever happened. Aren't your kids good kids, smart kids, loving kids?" "Yes!" "Well that's not a bad thing, is it? And you, you're smart, you're loving, and you can be good, too, right? You don't always mean bad news, do you?" "Jips. Stop this." "Where am I wrong?" "I don't know, maybe not wrong anywhere; but you need time, to try other ideas, see other futures for you." "I know, you've lived a life and I'm just a kid." "Well, that is still true now. I go to Rhode Island soon, the third." "You're weaseling out of this." "I don't know the weaseling! But it sounds bad! And I am believing you! You say maybe you can do this! I say maybe he can, somebody can, could be Jips! You let me finish, Jips!" "All right." "I am not going to marry you when you graduate! You graduate, you have some sex with other women, you talk to them, and think, is this woman better? Was Renee right? And if she isn't better, you try more, try many women, rich ones, sad ones like me if you want! Think about these women, and me, and think always what is best for Jips Haskell." "And you?" "I need to do what I need to do, but if the man is not so good as Jips for me, I say, no, Jips is right this time. You see?" "How long before you give up and come back to me? One year? Five?" "I have silver tread to you, Jips. You will have a car soon?" "Yes." "You drive to Narragansett in that car, we will talk again, you tell me what you have found, I tell you what I found, and we fuck, too." "That's this summer, hardly three months!" "So we won't know by then, but you keep doing this thing. Come see me, tell me, I find the good woman, or I still want the Ayiti woman with the black children, but each time we fuck and we talk and keep it alive." "And one day we will both know, yes or no." "But exactly. You won't be just a kid then, I won't be having the guilt to smash your good future then. Or we will know it was not the good plan and say goodbye, maybe with one more good fuck. Because you fuck better than any Ayiti man in all Ayiti, for sure, Jips. So we have to fuck so I can't forget." "All right. I'll try that. I'll wait." "Not just waiting, you really give these women a chance, Jips. Don't cheat, this is too important." Jip just lay quietly, then nodded. "Good. Now fuck me; we are in bed all night, and you don't even fuck me." Jip laughed. "Give me tits; get me in the mood!" "Poor Jips, you are worn out, tired with fucking me all day. Have this one, there. Now you just suck, little Jips." The pad of hair she called the perfume box rubbed his thigh as he sucked, like a cat against the furniture. A hand slid around his chest and raised his nipples. It was luxurious to be under the covers, warm and close, touching so easily. They stretched the moment out. "Try the other, now." Her pussy nudged him firmly. "I love you, Renee," Jip told her, swapping to the indicated breast. "Ah? Let's see if you have the mood..." The hand traced a path downward over his belly. "Yes, you have a very good mood already. I will hold this for you..." Her warm hand slid the skin up and back and descended to play with his balls. Her weight came onto his leg; she rocked up and let her breasts dangle into his face. Warm air puffed into his nostrils from between the sheets, carrying her scent. He sent a hand to explore her buns and her spine, and she squeezed and worked his cock again. "I like this mood you got," she said. She straddled his thigh and humped gently at it, and they kissed. "Now. Poor tired worn out man, you just lie very still and put your hands under you. No pushing, you lie still." She raised her weight up to let him place his hands, then kissed his ear and swung her leg off. Holding the point of his hip, she kissed down his neck and licked a nipple. Her hand slid tantalizingly down between his thighs, but it just brushed the ends of the little hairs and shied away. Her mouth slurped at his chest and licked his nipple, sucked it, came off it and blew air across the wet flesh. "This is fun, Jips." He swallowed and lay in great anticipation. When she worked her mouth along his belly, he could feel her breasts slide along his ribs. The hand between his legs nudged them wider, so he opened them. "You smell good in your belly," she remarked. "I like yours, too." "You can smell it again in a little while; rest now." She had to lift his cock to complete her circuit of his belly, but she replaced it with a little kiss. She asked him English words: hip, thigh, and belly button, as she kissed them, trailing the cornrow braids and tits along his body and stroking with a free hand. She laughed at the button image, then came up to kiss his mouth while the hand dandled his balls and squeezed his cock by its base. "I want to do this more, Jips." "I like it, you should have fun." She jacked the skin along him, replying, "Thank you, Jips! In Ayiti I can never do this thing, the man will fight me down and fuck me! You are nice to do this. You will not regret it, I promise. Okay?" "Let me smell your belly." "Oh! Yes, here, hold still... is it still a nice smell?" "Mmm." "Smell the hair part. You like that! Kiss. Mmm. Okay, now I smell you some, but the pussy will be back!" She was like a girl with a new puppy, delighted and smiling. She kept him strongly stimulated, but got creative and playful. For Jip, the experience was brand new; never had there been so little urgency. He reveled in the long tease. She moved so much and ranged so widely that the two of them were soon uncovered. "Take out the hands, now--no! Hold up you legs, your knees, take them!" Understanding her, he lifted his knees to his shoulders and held himself there. She grinned wickedly, a flash of ivory against the Haitian face. Then she slid down. Her mouth kissed his anus. Her tongue tip caressed it. He could see her face only from the eyes up; she wore an expression of concentration and her slim hands supported his hips and pushed him up into her face. After a little of this, she slid a finger in as she'd done before, teasing his cock with her lips and tongue, stirring the finger inside him. "Are you wanting to fuck me, now?" she whispered. "God, yes." Jip Ch. 03 To watch, sober, while other people dance-- fuck a bunch of that. Kittie played her private camera game, panning the dancers like a Steadicam, which let her do a slow strut, at least, to the music. Something had to happen, or it would be Boredomcam, an Andy Warhol film of nothing very much going on. Her camera eyes moved cinematically across the room. Lawanda letting Curtis be grabbin her ass. A smile on a flushed white face: that was Jip Haskell. Kittie smiled back. That white boy be checkin me out! Jip was okay, though, he took you seriously and he had respect. Maybe he'd dance, she thought. Fuck, maybe he got weed, that'd be-- "Jip, yo!" Kittie sang out. "Love the little skirt, Kittie!" Jip replied, and he edged along the dance floor toward her. Jip had come stag to the Keshava; Kittie did look hot, and he knew she was a smart, quirky, impulsive girl. Right now, he could welcome some impulsiveness. "Why ain't you dancing in that thing?" "Ain't nobody ask, yo," Kittie said. They came face to face; she could talk normally if she got right in his ear. "Ask me to dance." "C'mon, baby, dance with me," Jip said, leaning close. "Sure, baby; thought you'd never ask, you real shy or somethin, yo?" The two were grinning at each other now. Jip put a hand on her hip and guided her into the thick crowd of dancers. "Beautiful girl like you would make anybody shy, baby," Jip told her in a confident tone. "That be me, the beauty queen, all right," she said, laughing. "Miss Keshava Ballroom, ladies and gentlemen: Kittiwah Smith!" "You! Don't be puttin your lines out for me, yo; I know about you sweet-talkers." The evening had suddenly improved. Just chance meeting; but a person is prouder of good luck, sometimes, than actual accomplishments. They danced with a little strut, and also a little joy. They stayed out for another long mix, and then extricated themselves to find a piece of wall to lean on together. "You were great, Kittie! Want somethin' to drink?" "Who you come with?" Kittie narrowed her eye. "Cheryl here?" "Nope; I came alone this time." Jip didn't need to be a mentalist to read Kittie's next question. He answered it. "Maybe for good, far as Cheryl goes." Kittie acted indifferent about the information. "Drink," she said, "I dunno; you got..?" She mimed smoking. "Come out to the car a minute, if you want." This suited Kittie. The music became muffled as they passed the door; it was surprisingly cool and quiet on the street. A group of cigarette smokers were talking about movies. Across the street, a cat scooted under Jip's car for cover. "You and Cheryl break up, yo?" "Long story. I went alone to Rhode Island, and she got jealous." Jip extracted a wallet, and handed Kittie a neatly-made little fattie. "Lemme light that; here." As she smoked, the streetlamp laid dramatic angular shadows across them, the light broken by moving maple leaves. The red glow cast a blush over the sweet roundness above Kittie's tube top. Warm brown tits by doob light, and above them, a warm face. Jip was less content, now; a new goal had occurred to him. They smoked together in the rustling half-light. The cat came out and nuzzled their ankles. It was young, half-grown; a blue point. Jip scratched its sharp chin and behind the injured ear. "A fighter," he remarked, looking up from Kittie's thighs to her face. "See the ear?" She passed him the dope and nodded. The cat moved off a meter and rolled onto its back. Jip imbibed a bit of smoke and watched her sit on her heels to stroke it. "You a badass, then? You a little kung fu cat, yo?" "Let's call him Shotokat; we'll see him again if he lives around here." Kittie turned a quick smile of appreciation on him, then returned to Shotokat. Her ass and the muscles in the small of her back caught and held his eye. There was much to like about Kittiwah Smith. He remembered her from the role of Tituba in the Miller play. "Are you going to be in Voices Off?" "Not on stage, yo. I'm assistant TD for this one. Turntable, yo." "You have to build those just so? For quiet?" "Quiet ain't that important, really. Not like you'd think. It's just that it has to be reliable. The whole stage turns, basically." A good way to build a bond is to have the girl talk about what she knows best and the things in her life. The theater had a lot of aspects, and he spoke with her about it through the whole joint and half the next. Kittie warmed to him. "You want to come dancing again, tomorrow?" he asked. "Oh, man! I got to be the theater. The designer starts the painting tomorrow." "All right. What time? Could I come there, maybe do something to help?" They made the date. They danced late, Jip drove her home, and she kissed his cheek as she left the car. Her lips were firm and full. The trouble with learning about a person is that you run the risk of falling in love with her. Cheryl had been difficult to get to know, but Kittie was an open book. One with complex, fine print pages you knew you'd never finish or be able to understand-- but she never hid things. The contrast opened Jip's eyes to how secretive and tentative Cheryl had been. Her TD was a man with doctrines, ways to work that were proven good; whereas set designers live in a world where physics is suspended, for its bad behavior. She was clever and competent, smoothing the rough relations between the wacky set designer and the technical director, assigning work to the intern and to Jip with no fuss. And her Tituba had not been a caricature but a woman; she could act. Dressed to work painting a set, Kittie was even better looking than in her club clothes, besides. Jip was feeling lucky just to know her by the end of the set painting; Cheryl was fading to a memory. "Drive you home?" "I got my car. Meet me at my place, yo." On the stoop, he told her how impressed he was with her way of working with people. Her answer shocked him. "Poor Jip." "What?" "You falling in love with me. No, it's all right, yo. Look, Jip. I been seeing you in school, watching you now. I like you. But you kinda lead with you heart." They went up the stairs. "The apartment, it's a mess, yo." He thought about it. Did he lead with the heart? It sounded so naïve! "I guess you're right," he conceded. "Way to make a girl feel good about her housekeeping!" "I meant the heart thing." "I know; lighten up! It makes me wanna just kiss you, though." She leaned on him. Through their first kiss, Jip was pinned against the door. Each of her lips was an object, they were so firm. Jip took in her scent-- paint, a salty musk of skin-- and explored her back and flanks with both hands. Her thighs straddled one of his; the pussy rubbed against him like Shotokat, but forcefully. Kittie opened two buttons for him. He handled her tits gently, then much more roughly in response to her squirms. She didn't let the kiss end until he'd gotten himself thoroughly hypnotized. They stood, legs still entangled, foreheads touching, looking into each others' eyes. Jip spoke. "Kittie?" She shook her head. Don't distract me. "Do it again, yo." Again, and more. When he pulled his fingers out to taste them, Kittie jumped a little in surprise. "You like the taste of that?" "Twenty four seven," he confirmed. "Hallelujah. I knew I needed me a white boy for somethin! Come on," she said, giving his cock a pull, leading the way. "I'll give you a taste of that!" She sat on the couch and Jip knelt, eyes on the prize. "Oh Jesus!" Kittie cried. Here he was, serious. Real. "Get it, baby-- oh. You slut man." He was licking it right up. "Kiss it, yo. Oh, fuck." Kittie rocked back onto the couch and lifted both legs up around him, curled up to watch Jip's face and hands. As the hot sex buzz increased in her pussy she dropped the legs on his shoulders to let his hand move more easily. Her cries and little blasphemies made him smile. She gave him her nectar, the wine of Paradise in the garden, the reward of the faithful. She lost her focus on Jip and just rode her approaching come. Rising raggedly like a boiling syrup, it was swamping her mind and possessing her senses. "O Jesus save me! O Jip, baby, you got me, yo. Oh, fuck, I'm gonna come so big!" She wailed, twisting the cry in her throat like a cat. Bangles rattled in Jip's ears as she pulled his face in tight. The man's mouth just kept on. Jolt after jolt struck deep into her. Kittie hauled him in hard against her to make it more bearable, but the crashing electric strokes of fingers and tongue stripped her control away. Her nipples twinged, her legs straightened out behind him, her forehead shoved itself into the back of the couch, her toes curled. "Zam!" she breathed. "Mutha fuck." Another mew, and her hands turned, pushing his head off and away. "Just stop, hold on a minute, baby, you gotta, yo, I can't take it, yo!" Jip relented and grinned. His neck had an ache already. Her legs and arms pushing and squeezing and shoving-- she was strong! He watched her face and let his fingers fall from between the thick, deep-red inner lips. They clung to him; those could take it. He stroked her brow and supported a relaxing leg. Her eyes finally came back to him. "What you smilin at, yo?" she said, and they both laughed. Jip sat back, struck by a thought. Kittie leaned forward eagerly. "Looka that!" she crooned. She stood and slapped his shoulder. "Now you! Sit right there, there you go, mmm! I gotta sit on that a second, yo." She stretched up while he turned and sat, then stripped off the shirt and bra, which had been hanging loose. The nipples looked stuffed to bursting, tight and dark. She pinned him to the couch by the shoulders and straddled him, waggling. Jip steadied his heated cock for her, she found it and sank fully down. Her tail wiggled side to side and she gave him a wicked grin. "Nice!" she said. He was worried, though. "Kittie, you got--" "This ain't for real, yet, yo; I just wanna feel it." Jip was dubious. But she took two strokes with her eyes closed before lifting herself again. His cock glistened in her fingers. She knelt and tucked her legs under her. "I monna suck you right to heaven; then maybe we worry about condoms, okay?" "Gotta like that plan," Jip said. Cheryl had been a virgin, he thought. That had been the difference. She'd been shy and eager all at once, but balky at odd times. Easily offended, coy, then suddenly romantic. A virgin. No wonder! It all came together for him, but he shelved it. Kittie was going to work, and he felt those fat firm lips again. "Oh man. Oh, yeah." Kittie licked and nuzzled him from asshole to head, then met his eye. "Just the beginnin! You all lay back." Kittie had those exotic eyes, the Aztec tilt above the African mouth. She had almost no adornment but her piercings and the bangles at her wrist, since she'd dressed to paint scenery, and he liked her that way. Her dancing face, with its outlined pale lips and glittery eyes, was too artificial; this seemed warm and real. Her adoring lips sent a heat to the spot between his balls, his cock seemed tight and heavy as if it were very huge. Exquisite silken tingles followed every move of Kittie's lips and tongue. Jip fell in love all over again. He felt a flush mount to his cheek and his nipples rose. "You're so beautiful." He stroked a warm cheek. Kittie had to laugh. "Yeah," she murmured, "We all beautiful, suckin." "But I mean it!" "I know you do, now hush." She sent his hand away, placing it on the couch. For once, she was really in the mood to do this. "The man needs a momma," she told herself. Her touch was maddeningly gentle and light, but for Jip there was much more urgency. Kittie refused to be hurried. At first she played games, tracing a 1 and then a 2 along and around the young man's cock, counting. She came back for 8 a few times in succession, when it had been such a hit the first time. When Jip relaxed, she'd pump her lips on it a few times, giving it some throat, to wake him up. With Jip once again sweating and on the verge, she went back to flutters of the tongue and flirts with her nipples. It was fun. Jip appeared to be in agony. He had propped himself on his elbows. That way he wouldn't reach in to interfere, he figured. His jeans and Vans were still on-- or mostly off, now; his shirt unbuttoned and tangled around his arms. His posture and the open shirt emphasized his belly muscles; Kittie loved the visual. He was making such ridiculous noises. He smelled like a man in rut-- with scene paint. Gradually that and the feel of corded hard meat warmed her. Her sucking gained momentum and energy. She slurped up his taste, her eyes slitted, then closed. She snaked a hand down to trace her pussy lips and push in on her clit. No pleading had made her less light in her touch, but now he wasn't able to speak at all. His knuckles, white with their grip on the upholstery; his legs, straight with pointed tightly clenched toes; his mouth, open, making mindless croaks and grunts had all passed from his mind's control. Frustratingly gentle, Kittie had driven Glenn slowly to a hypnotic focus on just the cock, just the woman. He had no previous life, he hardly had an identity any more. Jip felt the tickle among his hairs as his sack contracted. His already huge-feeling cock felt gigantic now, a pulsar ringed by lips, orbited by tongue. He watched Kittie's beautiful face when he could, but he had to close his eyes. Then he heard her pussy as she fingered it, and he tipped over the brink. He gave her incoherent warning, but she hadn't needed it. She was raised up high on her knees, tense and taut, mashing her clit and driving her throat onto him when he came. His astronomical cock thrummed with the sheer pleasure of it. Impossibly the head expanded again. Pulses traveled the parsecs along the curved cords and veins, to exit in Kittie's knowing mouth. There were no words to his howl, an intermittent mewl and yawp. His nostrils flared, his chest flushed pink. He lost even the woman as his eyes clamped closed, leaving only Cock itself, racked by spasm after unbearable spasm in the red darkness. Kittie kept up her feverish suck even during the come, so there was no letup, no mercy. And still her touch was not quite strong enough, despite her own breathless passion and greed. Jip was sobbing and trying to drag enough back from the blackness to speak again, and her insistent firm lips continued, unwitting torture, to strip all of his come, chasing thrills all up and down the fat bouncy flesh, and not toying with it, either. Her fingers agitated her pussy; she sucked with a will. "Kittie, m'god!" "I need a fuck, yo, you gotta fuck me right now, yo!" "Let me eat you; you don't realize--" Kittie hesitated, reorienting. She let him go and pushed him to the side so she could sit again. "That's right! Yeah! Oh, c'mon, c'mon, come on! Get it, baby, get that thing, yo, I need it bad, oh Jesus, you so nice, Jip, oh do it-- mmmh." It seemed to the dazed Jip that they'd unplugged, turned and reconnected in an instant. Her fingers shook the fleshy mound above his mouth while he pulled her lips in for his grateful tongue. She was very ready, her nose still full of his scent and slick juices flowing from between the dark ruffles. Her heels rose and struck his back, sliding to his shouders, urging him in. "Oh, Jip--!" He slid fingers in, fucking. His tongue strummed her hard little button, her hand kept working the pad of hair back and forth under his nose, and his fingers jammed up along underneath her clit from inside. Sensations from every side, hard, tightly focused and frenetic-- she bloomed explosively. It had built up like a skydive, all at once and accelerating madly. The come slammed her hard. Jip had to throw a hand and arm across hers to hold down her bucking hips, but he got his revenge by carrying on with everything right through, no mercy. Her squeals and gasps were music to him. She didn't wait to recover speech, but slapped weakly at his ear and pushed at his forehead. The two young people collapsed then, just where they were. It was silent but for their breath, they each still tingled and twitched with remembered feelings, toes clenching and pelvic muscles pulling up, writhing a little with little sighs. The whole room smelled like sex. "Cheryl crazy, to break up wid dat." They laughed. He pulled her to the floor for a hug.