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Roomers Ch. 01

By: satyricon.21



Old theme, new treatment, I hope. Please remember to vote. I answer non-anonymous feedback. Satyricon

*

I watched her from my big bay front window as she went down the street, and felt the familiar slow burn of desire start in the pit of my belly. She was a walking wet dream, perfectly put together, packaged in real tight shorts and a skinny tank top, and she was going to be second floor back for the next year, unless she wanted to lose her security payment. Doesn't matter how cute they are, they pay a good deposit up front and the contract is for the whole school year. I don't like to waste my time interviewing fill-in renters because someone's dropped out or decided to go live with their significant other. This one would stay though. She was serious under the sexy frosting, and had made a point of telling me so. She was motivated and highly ambitious, she said, and getting a good degree was the most important thing in the world. I'd solemnly agreed and she'd signed the contract like a good girl and given me a check. 

She turned the corner at the bottom of the street and all I was left with was the memory of her cute ass swaying as she strode. Second floor back, I thought pleasedly. If she turned out to be friendly, then maybe I'd hit the gym a little, work on a few logic problems.

Huh?

I'm not an ambitious guy. In fact, if you were unkind, you'd call me a slacker. If I've got a few bucks in my pocket and there's a little fresh pussy waiting for me somewhere, I don't bother with much else. People call me lazy, self-centred even, and mostly I agree with them

So it's a bummer that my one talent requires effort to get proper results. Such a bummer that I don't bother much any more. When I was younger, sure: I used it to get to where I want to be. Now I don't want to be anywhere else, so I've stopped all that stressful shit, and just try to steer events, not push them. Even that's more work than I like.

Where am I? In the mid-west, dummy, where I've always been. But not where I used to be. Towns of less than a thousand people are too restrictive. A medium-sized college town, large enough for everything but small enough for comfort, is just fine. That's where I am. Set yourself up right and life will come to you soon enough, and the time you spent running round looking for it can be profitably frittered away with a little good weed, a little good wine, a little good music, a few good books, stuff like that. Maybe little Miss second floor back would want to share some down time with her landlord when we knew each other better. Most of my time is down time, and being laid-back and undemanding pushes buttons for a lot of girls.

I said I wouldn't mind if you called me a slacker. Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

And the talent? Look at this way. Suppose you were born with stupendous hand/eye coordination and the potential to bat .800 in the major leagues. You'd be a pretty happy guy, right? And suppose you then discovered that raw ability isn't enough. If you want to be up there with Barry Bonds and the rest of them, then you have to train and practice, and practice and train, and eat a lot of shit with the coach screaming at you until you're sick to death of the feel of a bat in your hands. You need to be ambitious AND dedicated AND talented to make it to the Hall of Fame, right? I wonder how many potential Hall of Famers are flipping burgers for a living because they're missing the ambition and dedication. But that doesn't mean you can't have a lot of fun in the softball leagues.

That's my situation. Shit, not playing ball: I've got the hand/eye coordination of a starfish, but if I want to use my private talent then I have to train and practice, and practice and train. It's a mental gift, but for some dam' reason it doesn't work too good unless my body's in shape, and once that's done I need to get the old coconut in good working order as well. And on top of that I've got to want something real bad. So it takes a lot to get me off my ass, and even more to keep me off it. 

I'm not being too clear...Might as well lay it out in a row. Right through High School everything was normal. I mean, I worried about the size of my cock, would I ever be sophisticated enough for Patty Dukes to agree to a date, was that a zit coming: typical stuff, until the day I got ambitious.

Don't ask me why I suddenly got the urge to go to college. Looking back, I guess the fact that Patty Dukes was planning the same thing had a lot to do with it; whatever, I woke up one day with a strange feeling that I ought to get in shape and work on my grades and plan to impress Patty, all at the same time. I recognize that feeling now. It's called motivation, and it's a dangerous tool in the wrong hands.

But once a kid gets the bit between his teeth there's no stopping. My Mom and Dad could scarcely believe it. The whole summer before senior year I got up early, jogged down to the 'Y', worked out, jogged back, hit the books till late afternoon, jogged down to the 'Y'... you get the picture? I didn't exactly gain or lose weight, but what I had kind of redistributed itself and firmed up pretty good too. I wasn't stopping traffic, but my social life improved a hell of a lot and I was able to stop worrying about size and concentrate on technique. That improved my rep too, and there were other fingerprints on my cock besides my own. Some lipstick as well. Not Patty Dukes' though: she spent summers with relatives at the beach and used to come back around Labor Day looking like about twenty-seven million perfectly tanned dollars. 

Word got around that I was turning into your all-American scholar-athlete, and I discovered that thoughtful girls who relish intellectual conversation and deep thoughts leave lipstick traces exactly like cheerleaders do. They just want a more meaningful experience on the way. Fine by me. I can do meaningful real well when I need to.

It wasn't until the start of the school year that I noticed anything different. Hell, I didn't have time for self-analysis. The 'Y' and the books filled my days and my evenings were filled real nice too, and my nights were spent sleeping like a baby and recovering my strength. But as fall approached I began to feel that things were going too well. I mean, there were no hitches at all. Not anywhere. And when Patty Dukes blew back into town what happened made even an eighteen year old ego suspicious.

I can remember it so clearly. Even now the memory stirs me and I have to readjust myself and think cold thoughts, or else deal with the problem manually. Third day back in school and already teachers were congratulating me on the progress I'd made during the summer, Coach had suggested I go out for football, I'd found a cute little note stuffed under the door of my locker, and my Dad had suffered a brainstorm and bought me a used Ford Valiant. Very, very used, but the guts were in good shape and it did the job. Then the totally unexpected happened.

I'd hit the 'Y' after school to put in an hour on the machines. Boring as hell, but I'd got into the habit, and I'd discovered that mentally solving algebra and geometry problems while I worked out made the time pass quicker. Today though, I was thinking about Patty. The mindless, repetitive exercise had got me into a semi-trance and I was lost inside my head, working out the details of our conversation and how to handle myself. The scene became more and more real. Imaginary Patty was fascinated and wondering why the hell she'd never noticed me before and thinking that maybe she better make up for lost time. I had a sharp mental picture of her and it grew more and more solid until there was a kind of soft explosion between my ears and her image shimmered and faded. I came back to earth with a bang and realized that I was dripping wet, my arms and shoulders were hurting like hell and there was a small crowd gathered, looking at me with their mouths hanging open.

'You OK, Doug?' asked Sammy Knopfler. He looked kind of worried.

'Sure, dude. A little winded. I been working out hard, and you gotta expect some sweat.'

'Dude, you just pressed a hundred forty pounds eighty-three times without stopping. You gotta expect a little interest.'

'No shit?' I was a little startled myself at the news. 'I guess I was thinking about something else. I better shower before I start to stiffen up.' I eased myself off the bench and wobbled to the changing-room, my head still ringing.

Stiffen up is a mild phrase. The next day I could hardly lift my arms and my entire upper body was screaming for a lawyer. I had to ask my mom to drive me to school: it was that bad.

Physics lab was a bummer. My lab partner was missing and my forearms and wrists were so sore that I couldn't handle the delicate equipment at all. But then, when I'd knocked over the micro-balance for the third time and was staring at it in disgust, a voice sounded behind me.

'Need a hand, Doug?' Patty Dukes' voice. Something clicked into place and I turned and grinned ruefully.

'Two would be better. I went a little crazy in the gym yesterday and my arms are kinda sore.' She smiled and nudged me with her hip.

'Move over. I'll do the detailed stuff and you can make notes. Tammy said she got period pains and scammed the nurse into sending her home. We can be partners for today.' My head reeled. Both our lab partners out of the picture and a project that needed two people? I raised my eyes to heaven and muttered a silent 'thankyou'. Turned out we worked together pretty good. The class finished and we put the stuff away then grinned at each other. There was another click in my head.

'Good team,' I said. 'Thank God for kindness. Wanna coke or something after school? I don't think I'll be hitting the gym today.' She smiled again and there was a pleased look lurking behind the smile. I seemed to be saying the right things.

'Sure, and I can copy your notes. I'll need a set if I'm gonna write the stuff up properly.' Good point, I thought. The rest of the day dragged on and I rehearsed sophisticated banter in my head till we were slurping coke and relaxing.

'Your writing sucks, Doug,' she said irritably as she put her cup down. 'I can't read a word of these. Are your arms really that bad?' I showed her my wrists, still swollen and inflamed. 'Oh my word, you poor thing,' she gasped, and went into organizing mode. 'I'll drive you home and then go change, and come by in an hour. You can dictate the notes to me and we can print them right away. You good with that?' I'm excellent with that, I thought happily.

In the car she seemed nervous. She'd had to help me with the seatbelt, and I guess I'd reacted a little obviously to the feeling of her body pressing against mine as she reached for the strap and fastened it. As she drove her eyes kept flicking to my crotch. There was no doubt that I was sporting a chubby. She pulled up outside my house and we caught each other's eye; I managed to smile. Click.

'Sorry, I guess. Would you believe respectful admiration and not crazed lust?' She closed her eyes for a moment and shivered.

'Either,' she muttered, then flushed and looked surprised at herself. 'Go take a cold shower' she said quickly, 'and then read over those notes. I'll be back in an hour.' She leaned over and her lips grazed my cheek. I got out of the car and watched as it disappeared down the road. Cold shower, huh?

Actually I took a hot shower, and put myself through a lot of pain by washing all of me twice. I read in a magazine that most girls like clean. I put on a pair of old sweats and a T-shirt and was squinting at the notes when she rang the bell.

Good job the sweats were roomy. She was wearing cutoffs and a tube top, with a light sweater thrown casually over her shoulders. Her dark hair was damp from the shower too, and she had her physics books clasped to her chest. 

'Ready to go?' I stood back to let her in and caught a whiff of perfume as she stepped past me. She's been to some trouble too, I thought.

'Upstairs, I guess,' I said. 'The computer's in my room and so are the books.' She was looking round curiously.

'Nice house. You got brothers or sisters?' I shook my head.

'Nope. I got mostly absent parents too. Mom works late and Dad works early and late and in between as well. We can call for pizza later if you're hungry.' Instinct, or something, told me that respectful admiration was the way to go. 'Business before pizza though, I guess,' I added quickly.

My memory was sharper in those days, before a slacker's lifestyle blunted the edges, and I could remember the parts of the notes that were plain impossible to read, so it wasn't much more than half-an-hour when she hit 'print' and leaned back and stretched. The posture forced her breasts up and out against the tube top and it looked as if her nipples had their own little chubbies too. I felt a twitch under my sweats.

'How come we never talked properly before?' she asked. 'I mean, last year I hardly noticed you, but this year... wow... something's different. You stand out a lot more, that's for sure. There's a lot of girl-talk about you, Doug. Did you know that?'

'I've spent the whole summer right here in this room studying, except for the gym sessions,' I said. 

'You been out and about some,' she said, and grinned. 'Julie Anderson says you can lick the tip of your nose.' She sounded doubtful, and a little bit as if she couldn't believe her own audacity.

'Hell, I can do better than that,' I said smugly. 'Pass me those sunglasses.' She did as I asked and I slipped the shades onto my face. 'Now watch.'

I'd always thought it was a weird ability, but that summer I'd found out that it had its advantages. I curled my tongue out and up as far as I could and managed to slide the tip under the lens of the oversized aviator-style Raybans. A quick grimace and a kind of flick and the glasses fell off my nose. I caught them as they dropped and wiped the saliva off the lens, licking the tip of my nose as I did so. When I looked up Patty was slightly flushed.

'It's a gift,' I said. 'Are you OK? You look kinda uncomfortable.'

'Oh my word,' she murmured, then fanned her face with her hand. 'It's kinda hot in here. You mind if I have some water?'

'There's coke and juice in the fridge,' I said. You mind foraging for yourself? I tend to drop things at the moment.' 

I watched her butt as it sashayed out of the room and tried to ease myself a little. The sweats were beginning to tent like Mount Hood so I moved off the chair and sat on the couch, aiming for relaxed. When she came back with a tray and a pitcher of juice I was leaning back, legs crossed, projecting cool as hard as I could. She poured and sat down next to me, handing me one of the glasses. I took it gingerly, wincing, and sipped. She watched me concernedly.

Those arms of yours must make stuff really difficult,' she said. 'Let me hold the glass.' She reached forward as she spoke and our hands bumped. My aching fingers slipped and a half pint of juice landed in my lap. I yelped and jumped, and the rest of the glass landed on her chest, leaving juice dripping down the slope of her breasts and darkening the material of the tube top and cutoffs. She shrieked and jumped up.

'Oh my word! Doug, I'm so sorry... oh wow, you're soaked, I'm soaked...oh my word...' her voice tailed off and I followed her gaze to my groin. The cold liquid hadn't had any effect and now something that was definitely more than a chubby was clearly outlined by the clinging, wet material of my sweats. As she stared, it jerked uncontrollably. The click happened again.

'Respectful admiration, Patty, I promise. I'm not going to jump on you. Lemme go clean up and change my pants though.' I tried to keep my voice light. Her face was crimson, but she didn't stop staring. Her nipples were pushing hard through the wet fabric of her tube top and her thighs were clenched together. She looked like a person making a decision.

'I'll help. Juice is just so sticky, and those pants oughta go in to soak straight away.' You're quite right, I thought delightedly.

'You're kinda wet too,' I pointed out. She looked down at herself.

'Oh my word. Where's the bathroom?' 

'Behind you. Dad had it put in last year. To stop me interrupting him and Mom, he said.' Unexpectedly, she giggled. 

'Good for him. Umm, Doug, can I say something?' My heart sank.

'Sure.' She bit her lip and looked good enough to eat

'I don't want you to think that I'm some kind of slut and I don't really unnerstand myself, and I'm kinda nervous,' she said, 'but I really wanna know if you do crazed lust as good as you do respectful admiration. Julie Anderson says you're excellent and I don't wanna feel all left out.' 

'That Julie's got a big mouth,' I muttered. She giggled again.

'Me too, you'll see.' Her hand flew to her mouth. 'Oh my word. I can't believe I said that.' I was digesting that one when she pulled at the bottom of the tube top and wriggled and it suddenly bunched and flew up over her breasts as she hauled it over her head. Her face reappeared, flushed and expectant. 'Your turn.' She was leaning forward, still staring at the wet patch molding itself round my erect cock. I struggled to my feet, and hooked my thumbs into the waistband of the sweats, but my left hand jarred against my hip bone and I grunted involuntarily. 

'Oh my word! You better let me. One thing first though.' She took a pace forward and stood very close to me, then put her arms round my neck and pulled me against her half-naked body. I could feel the hard points of her nipples drilling through my T-shirt and pressing against my chest so hard that I thought they'd draw blood. She tilted her hips so that her mound pushed against my erection, then raised her face and kissed me firmly, sliding through my lips with her tongue and searching for mine. When she released me her breath was coming a little quicker.

'Now we know each other properly. Mind your arms.' She squatted, the tips of her breasts sliding down my torso, and tugged at my sweats. They caught on the end of my erection and she bit her lip again and eased the material gently over the head. As they fell to my ankles she smiled and leaned back on her heels.

'Looks just like an excited prick,' she said. 'And a pretty good specimen too. Lift your feet up.' Click.

'Both of them?' She pretended to take a bite of my cock.

'One at a time, dummy.' She slipped the legs over my feet and stood up. 'You sure the house is empty?'

'I swear. Gimme your shorts and I'll put everything through a rinse/dry cycle. That'll deal with the sticky.' I looked at her challengingly, but she didn't hesitate. Her shorts were unzipped and off before I could draw breath, and she was suddenly wearing only a tiny scrap of bikini-cut panties. She looked down at them and shrugged.

'They're wet too. Put 'em through with the rest.' She slid the sheer material down her legs and stepped delicately out of them, then flicked her wrist and sent them spinning through the air to land neatly on my cock. She smirked.

'Played a lot of horseshoes this summer... Calling Planet Doug... Are you going to put 'em through the machine or stand there and look at me all day?' I realized that my eyes were hanging out of their sockets and my mouth was filling with drool. She was a real nice view. A smooth even tan, with surprisingly white triangles at breast and crotch where the sun hadn't shone. Hard brown nipples jutting from the pale flesh. Breasts that looked like part of an anti-gravity machine, but tasteful. A slim waist that turned into a gentle swell of hip and stomach, curving down to a neatly trimmed dark wedge of tight curls. Pink lips peeking through the fuzz. Smooth, firm thighs that looked as though they could squeeze real good. The click sounded in my head.


Roomers Ch. 02



Old theme, new treatment, I hope. You need the first chapter or you'll get confused. Please remember to vote. I answer non-anonymous feedback. Satyricon

*

'Uh, Mr. Taylor?' He was standing at the door, looking nervous. The new guy, third floor front. I was feeling pretty good. I'd put in an hour at the gym, first time for a while, and my body didn't like that much, but the first beer of the day had hit the spot and Stevie Ray Vaughan was doing incredible things with a guitar. 

'Doug. No mistering in this house. Whaddya need, Nick? No need to stand in the doorway: you've been here a while, you'll discover I'm easy as long as the rent's on time.' He flushed scarlet.

'Uh, that was it, actually. I wanted to show you this, and I don't really want to ask my folks; this is costing them a bunch of money already.' He meant college. He handed me an official-looking letter. I looked at him suspiciously, then scanned the half-page of jargon-filled crap. Long and short of it was that his State funding was gonna be ten days late because a bunch of pissants had decided to go on strike. Sorry for the inconvenience, etcetera. People nowadays plain won't work. I glanced up at him. 

He was one of the ones who'd had his parents with him when he viewed the room. Shy boy, looked like a good gust of wind would knock him over. His Mom and Dad ordinary folk, proud as hell that their son had made it to a good school; if he qualified for funding then they were definitely not rolling in the long green. I checked the letter again closely. Seal looked right, raised letterhead at the top. I did sums in my head. He was definitely going to be late with the money. OK, just this once.

The house is big enough for five renters, and five renters is a nice piece of monthly change when you collect it, but big old houses have big old yards and big old maintenance costs, and hired help isn't for the simple chores. 

'Yard work this weekend, Nick, and you lemme see the check when it arrives. Good enough?' Save me having to do it, I thought, feeling pleased. 'You know how to rake leaves?' He nodded anxiously, then realized I'd made a joke, and smiled in a relieved way. 

'Yessir, Mr. Taylor.' Polite kid.

'Call me Doug or I throw your ass out now. Say it.' He gulped.

'Uh, yes... Doug.' Good enough for a first try. He fled and I settled back down on the couch. First week in college, bewildered, feeling like an ignorant jerk, trying to act like an adult. I been there too, and I almost felt sorry for the kid. After a while I got up and looked out of my big bay window. When I bought the house I remodeled the first floor to make a nice apartment for myself, closed the hallway, except for my door and the stairway; upstairs was the original six bed floorplan, plus I put in an extra full bath and a utility kitchen where the sixth bed used to be. Way too much effort, but it works pretty good, and I got an income, privacy, the nicest rooms, and a big bay window to stand in and think and watch the world go by. I thought back to my first year here, in this very town. Shit, don't time fly?

Julie Anderson had howled and cried and carried on like an unmilked cow when the time came for me to leave for college. Turned out she was dreaming of engagement and marriage and babies and a lot of stuff that plain didn't interest me, so the last week was kinda stressful. More stressful, because I'd spent the summer goofing off and doing as little as possible, and my body was slack and my mind was pure putty. No way my gift was going to work until I straightened out. But hell, Julie was happy to blow me regularly, as long as I returned the favor, and I plain wasn't willing to get off my ass just to give her a soft landing.

Being a slacker has a downside though, and I felt kinda bad as the Valiant rolled along the Interstate. Mom was pretty pissed at me: Julie had gone so far as to catch her one weekend and sob and whimper and tell her what a cruel jerk I was and how I'd ruined her rep and a lot of stuff that plain wasn't true; what the hell: she wasn't pregnant, but Mom had told Dad and... you know how it goes. So I left home unescorted, and, tell the truth, a little nervous.

And the first month was pure hell. New schedules, new guys to impress, new girls to check out and be too shy to approach, new economic problems, way too much schoolwork: Julie and babies almost began to seem like an attractive option. Finally, reluctantly, I realized that I wasn't going to cut it unless I made an effort. Bummer.

'Gotta do something,' I said out loud. My roommate looked up from his book.

'You say something, dude?'

'Gotta do something, or I'm gonna be overwhelmed by all this shit. Is there a gym round here?' He looked at me strangely.

'Dude, this is a college. Of course there's a fuckin' gym. In fact there's two. There's a library as well: you found that yet?' I heaved myself off my bed and looked for my shoes. Smart-ass, but a good guy: a little too serious for my taste, but hell, so what? What I needed now was to think what I wanted. Some pussy, of course. That was a given: I was getting a sore wrist already. I needed to keep my grades up too, at least till I figured out how to live easy without too much work

'Which one's closest?' He looked at me strangely again.

'Dude, you are a piece of fuckin' work.' 

The second month was miserable too. I made myself work out, and I hated it; I found the library and started hitting the books again, and I hated it. The only good part was deciding which particular pussy to dream about. Hell, I thought: it worked with Patty, it'll work again. Plan for success.

By Christmas my body had firmed up a little and I was getting B's and the occasional A. I was also going outa my skull. I'd fixed on a sophomore girl I saw in the library occasionally. Outa my league really, but the cutest little thing you ever did see. Short red hair, long slim legs, handy-sized set upstairs, big smile, pair of green eyes that looked like she could get physical if she wanted to. She didn't seem to date regularly. I managed to find out that her name was Judy Olsen. I thought about her a lot, but it never got quite vivid enough, so I took a deep breath and stopped masturbating. Bummer.

Like I said: outa my skull. On the other hand, the first three lines on my secret activity graph were moving upwards in synch. The fourth one, quality time with Judy, didn't exist yet, but I left a hopeful space for it. If things hadn't improved I mighta given up, but it seemed like the formula was beginning to work. I did my best to up the gym time and the library time, and mostly I managed. Three days outa seven anyway. Hated it though.

College is pretty cool once you find your rhythm. I wasn't gonna make the dean's list, but I was up where I wanted to be, and I was discovering how to read other stuff for pleasure as well as information. I wasn't totally buff either, but my extra twenty pounds had moved up to my chest and arms and I looked a helluva lot better for it. I'd plotted Judy's library schedule and was trying to match it, sitting in her line of sight and keeping my head down, running through the conversations we might have.

You wanna be an ace slacker, you gotta be realistic. Most of me that hated all the shit I was putting myself through, but there was one small part that reminded me that this was a means to an end, not a lifestyle choice. A little patience and some short term pain was going to pay off if I did it right. That kept my bitching down to a private minimum.

Social life. Well, yeah: the fact of the matter is that the third week of January I managed to get laid. Not Judy, hell, that woulda been too corny, but a lot better than nothing. A sign that the effort was beginning to pay back. 'Bout fuckin' time too.

She worked in the head shop that all college towns have, and she fitted the ambience like a hand in a glove. Old-fashioned hippy look, though she couldnta been a real hippy, ever; twenty-something, ash blonde and way skinny, looked as if she needed a month of feeding up, but she had something. I didn't stop imagining Judy's eyes fixed lovingly on mine as she removed her clothes, but I took to browsing the shop occasionally, flicking through the Freak Brothers back issues while I checked blondie out.

Third week of January. I'd done the gym and the books and was on my way for a pizza when I stopped in there. Nearly closing time, and she was alone. Usually there was a genuine old hippy there as well, wanting to impress with his tales of Woodstock or some such shit, but today he wasn't about. I moved to the racks of comics and picked one at random. Fat Freddy's fucking cat had crapped in his shoe again, and I pretended to read and snicker while I watched her. She looked kinda impatient. 

'You gonna buy anything or what?' I looked up and for the first time in months I felt a soft click in my head. Way to go.

'Buy you a pizza, you want one. Every time I see you I get the urge to feed you.' She stared for a moment, then smiled.

'Nice line. How come you're always in here and never buy anything?'

'Waiting for my chance. Plus, it's kinda nice in here. Makes a change from the library I'm usually stuck in. You like anchovies? Me, I can take 'em or leave them alone, but some folks plain can't handle them. Give you a hand with the shutters if you like.' She stared again.

'You coming on to me? I'm old enough to be your mother.' Click.

'Not unless you were a child bride, and then some. Sister, maybe, you wanna be kinky.' She shook her head and looked at me quizzically, then cracked a smile.

'You got a better way with you than a lot of the kids who come in here. No anchovies, and the shutters wind down real easy. I'm Annie. Who are you?''

'What was that crack about feeding me?' she asked when the first slices had been dealt with. 'You trying to say I'm skinny?' Click.

'Hell, Annie, slim is where you are, but you do have a hungry look about you. Tell the truth, buying you dinner was the plan all along, but I guess I tried to dress it up a tad too fancy.' Her eyes softened a little.

'That one won't work. Skinny is where I am. I eat like two horses and I drink those dam' protein messes that the gym rats use and nothing happens. I was a skinny kid and now I'm a skinny woman and I guess I'll be a skinny old lady one day soon.'

'That day's a long way off. Howd'ya get to sell bongs and incense for a living?' She shrugged. 

'You seen my Dad. Last of the hippies. Hell, time's passed him by and what else can he do? I was born a hippie and raised a hippie and I don't much mind. Better than office work.' A woman after my own heart. I gestured at the remains of the pizza.

'You want the last slice? And then brownies?' She rolled her eyes.

'I've died and gone to heaven. How old did you say you were?' Click.

'Nineteen, but I'm working on it.' She raised her glass to me.

'And a dam' fine job you're doing too, Mr. Doug. Were you planning on walking me home?' I shook my head and tried to grin boyishly.

'My Mom raised me real good. Ms Annie. I was gonna say why not hit a movie and then see if you want me to walk you home.' Her eyes changed just enough that I knew getting physical was right there on the cards. 

'You can walk me home now and we'll have an early nightcap. Dad's at a Deadheads' reunion all week, why I gotta look after the shop by myself.'

'Whaddabout about your Mom?' She shrugged.

'Hippied off somewhere when I was seven. Dad raised me after that.' Click.

'Man did a helluva job. You want another brownie, keep your strength up?' She giggled like a teenager.

'You are a piece of work. Howd'ya get to be so smart?' 

'I read a lot.' She snickered again.

'Not the dam' Freak Brothers, that's for sure. You're gonna be dangerous one day.' She wiped her mouth and drained her coke. 'C'mon then. Nightcap time.' It was about seven o'clock but I wasn't gonna argue and we left. 

In January this town's colder than a welldigger's ass, and we had to hurry to keep our blood moving. Turned out she and her dad lived above the shop, in a second floor apartment that looked like nineteen sixty-eight. Pictures of the Maharishi and everything. I gazed round the room in amazement.

'Wow. Makes me wanna go pluck a guitar with my teeth.' She smiled lopsidedly and nodded..

'Dad's true to his dream, I guess. Gimme your coat and sit on the couch. I'll get the nightcap.' When she came back she'd changed and was wearing one of those floaty hippy dresses that you can almost see through. No trace of underwear though, not even almost. She was carrying a small bong.

'You ever done weed?' I shook my head. 

'Not yet. I start choking, you gotta promise to help me.' She sat on the couch beside me and crossed her legs under her. The neck of the dress was way loose and I could see her tiny breasts clearly. Her nipples looked to be hard and thick.

'Bongs are good. Ice in this one, so the smoke's chilled, and you don't take too much you won't choke. Results are good too. You sure you wanna do it?' Click.

'New experiences is what college is all about. Besides, I plan to major in laid-back and easy.' She reached up and ruffled my hair.

'You're doin' OK.' She plucked a Zippo out of somewhere and fired up.

Well, shit. You might say that Annie was a key part of my downfall. I read somewhere that if your first drug experience is a good one, the odds on carrying on go up by ten million percent, and I guess they're right. Annie made mine better than good.

Three hits each, small ones for me, and the bong was finished. She set it down and got up and went over to a music centre that was the only modern thing in the room. I don't know what she put on: Pink Floyd, maybe, but I can't remember now. She came back to the couch and settled herself comfortably, her head on my shoulder.

'Listen, and let it come onto you.' I sat and did as she said, listening to the music and very aware of her slight weight leaning against me. In a while I began to feel kinda different. More relaxed, more sensitive, wanting to express deep thoughts that seemed to make a lot of deep sense. Pure crap of course, but luckily I was too interested in something else to express them. 

I felt horny. Hell, not just horny, jumping outa my skin. Wanting to stick my cock into something soft, even if it was a slice of apple pie. I could smell Annie's hippie scent and something else underneath it, and when I sneaked a peek at her I could see that though her eyes were closed her breath was kinda rapid and her thin chest was rising and falling under the flimsy dress. Click.

'Mind if I hold you a little, try to keep in touch with reality? I feel like I need some kind of human contact.' She opened her eyes slowly and I could see that they were huge and slightly bloodshot. She smiled and smothered a giggle.

'Oregon grass. Always hits me like a truck. You know what I wanna do?' I was stoned, though I didn't know it, and I just waited. She began to laugh again. 'Hell, Doug, you're so sweet: hold me as much as you like.' She shifted slightly and somehow we were pressed together on the old hippy couch, our bodies molded against each other, noses almost touching. I could feel her skin, fever hot under the thin material of the dress, and I let my hands wander down her back, checking and probing and fascinated by the sensations floating through my fingers. Her own hands were roaming too and although it seemed hours before they dropped to my ass and crotch it was probably only minutes. She pulled me close against her, pushing herself into my groin and then peeked up.

'Whaddya got in there that won't lay still and chill out?' 

'I was kinda thinking about how good you feel and smell and all, and it just kinda happened. Does this stuff always have that kinda effect?' She nodded, still smiling up at me.

'If you're with the right person. You planned for this, didn't you?' I squinted down at her and tried to look sincere.

'Busted. "Hoped" is closer. First time I came into the shop I noticed you.' She looked pleased and pressed herself against me again, then swung herself upright.

'Weed always takes me like that too. I'm gonna lay down and hope I get some human contact before long.' She floated delicately across the room, the dress rippling round her, and I was right behind, floating kinda clumsy, but definitely floating. 

In her bedroom she watched me undress with hungry eyes and when I crawled in beside her she reached down and grasped my cock firmly. 

'Looks kinda painful. If I deal with it for you, what you gonna do for me?'

'This.' I curled my tongue out and rubbed the tip over the end of my nose and she dropped my cock and sat up.

'Do that again.' I obeyed, and a big grin spread over her face.

'Looks like I got lucky. Are you a strong boy?' Click.

'And cheerful and thrifty and reverent. Eagle Scout with attitude.' That started us both giggling again and we lay laughing with each other while the weed sang through our veins and our hands carried on exploring.

Lord, but that woman was skinny. Hell, I got no problem with that: skinny or plump, old or young, black, white, or anything in between: they're clean and willing that's fine with me. But I swear that Annie was just about as bony as I'd care to go. Every rib was there and countable, and her back looked like the Sawtooths in spring. Bone slender arms and legs, tiny ass. Funny though, once you forgot that and concentrated on the woman, none of that mattered. She was small, that was all. Not undernourished, not anorexic: just the way she was. Her skin was pale and smooth and what she lacked in soft she made up for in tone. What muscles she had were smooth and surprisingly strong. Her ash-blonde hair was clean and straight, and when she shook her head and it whipped round her face she was like a fantasy ice-maiden.

Only thing that surprised me was the undergrowth. I guess hippies don't shave, or even trim much. Her mound was covered in a mass of curls, almost white, and so fine that the sweet pink of her pussy lips showed clearly. Her legs had a fuzz of pale down and her pits looked like they'd never been touched either. Good job she wasn't a dark-haired girl or she'da looked like a seal when she went swimming.

And she was all woman: I mean everything worked. When I ran my tongue over the tiny fried eggs of her breasts she twisted luxuriously and pushed up, trying to force her nipple into my mouth. It was hard and fat, begging to be sucked and I did some of that while she rolled her head and scrabbled her hands in my hair. She twisted from under me and rolled me over, panting. 

'Me on you, then you on me, then the main course. OK?' One of the things this gift seems to do is make women come on real hard. Hell, fine by me. Saves working out the moves and the result's much the same. There's a limit to what bodies can do. Click.

'Sounds like a plan. You mind if I do some exploring while you're visiting?' 

'That's my guy,' she said happily. She leaned forward and kissed me, her mouth hot and urgent, tasting of brownies and smoke. Her hippie scent was strong now, and the other one was clear too. Anxious woman, keen to go. She pushed me back gently and settled herself over me then twitched her skinny butt. 

'Can you reach? I put out one hand and stroked her ass.

'Works for me.' She slid her hands over my crotch and grasped my prick gently, then twisted her head to look at me.

'Not my asshole though. Never could handle that.' 

'Kinda overrated, you want my opinion.' What did I know? She leaned back over my cock and slid her mouth down over me and I jerked under her touch like a scalded cat. Hell, after a five month dry spell any BJ is the best one ever and she was my first adult woman. That was a good feeling too. The grass was still holding my head in its fuzzy grip and that cranked up the sensation meter, but curiously, I felt as if I could go on for ever. Her tongue and lips were busy, flicking and rubbing and sucking, and I closed my eyes and let the waves roll over me. It's kinda shameful but I tried to imagine that it was Judy Olsen who was twining herself round me. For a moment that worked, but then guilt washed over me and I opened my eyes and reached out for her, sliding my hand into the tangle of hair that framed her pussy. It was damp already, and once I'd cleared the way her lips were wet with dew and as ready as they could be. I slipped the back of my thumb between them and slid the nail along her slit, the knuckle dragging over her soft surfaces. I felt the tip of the nailhead brush the base of her clitoris and felt the small thrill of achievement that you get when you're nineteen and you've made a grown woman gasp and press back onto your hand. She moaned softly round my cock and her hand curled round my balls and cupped them, then her mouth redoubled its efforts.




Roomers Ch. 03



Old theme, new treatment, I hope. You need the earlier chapters or you'll get confused. (Best to start with number one, but that's just a personal view). Please remember to vote. I answer non-anonymous feedback. Satyricon.

*

'You sure got a lot of books, Doug. You read them all?' That is such a dumb question, I thought. You think I bought them instead of wallpaper? Still, no point in causing bad feeling, and he was an OK kid. Paid his rent on day one and never came back drunk. I tried not to sound irritated.

'I do a lot of reading, Timmy, ya know that. Fetch yourself a beer, and for me too, then siddown and tell me what you need. You look kinda jumpy.' He loped into the kitchen and came back with the bottles.

'Doug, I gotta problem and I need your help.' Kid thinks I can work fuckin' miracles.

'It involves getting off my ass, Timmy, the answer's no. Advice, though, I majored in advice. What's happened?'

Turned out it was a girl problem, like nearly always. You're in college, your problems are gonna be grades or girls. Or guys, I guess. Can't ace both unless you're prepared to work real hard. That's one of the reasons I'm a happy guy. It's like I said, a good slacker's gotta be realistic. The best possible result is nearly always hidin' in a bucket of sweat, so your good slacker says 'thanks, but no thanks,' and settles for the best sweat-free result possible. Almost as good and a whole lot easier.

Poor ol' Timmy was dating two girls and getting all strung out about deciding which one he really loved, and who did he want to give his heart to, stuff like that. I gave him words of wisdom, choose the one gives the best head, stuff like that, and another coupla beers, gotta couple smiles outa him, sent him away feeling better. I don't think he listened much. When I warned him that whatever you do, shit happens, he looked as if he thought I was shittin' him. He'd find out.

I got up and looked outa my big bay window at the wet leaves blowing down the street. Fall was settled right in and winter was peeping round the corner. It was a day just like this that I finally got to speak to Judy Olsen. Hell, she was the one spoke to me first. Shit hadn't happened then.

I'd been feeling kinda pleased with myself that morning. We'd paid the rent on time, utilities too. I'd showed Annie round and she'd admired everything and we'd christened the place. Baptism of fire, that woman handed out: worth it though, and the scars healed pretty quick. I was getting A's, a few B's. I'd worked part-time over the summer, pumping gas, and done an hour a day at the gym, coupla hours a day with the books, spent time thinking about Judy Olsen, plus deep thoughts about how to cut down on the sweat factor. My real talent is using down time wisely. My real problem is getting enough of it. Hell, I didn't chill much that summer, but I didn't knock myself out either, and I went back to college with a little extra cash in my pocket, feeling pretty good.

Stayed good too. Gary had found the apartment a while back and put his marker on it. Owner was an old guy, useta work for someone who... that kinda deal, so we got moved in and settled real quick. Gary and I got on OK. He kept my nose in the books: guy had a sharp tongue on him when he wanted. I useta drag him out for a beer when he was looking kinda peaky. He was still engaged to his high school sweetheart, so weekends were clear, just in case I got lucky.

So on a wet and windy fall morning I locked the door behind me and did a happy shuffle down the steps of the old duplex. Wet leaves on the bottom step and my legs went away from me as I landed. As I hit the sidewalk I hit something else, and there was a scream of pain.

'You fuckin' dumb bastard!' A girl's voice. I'd caught my head bad as I went down and my left eye wasn't working too good. I put my hand up and it came away wet and sticky and I dam' near started screaming too. The voice was groaning and whimpering now, and I tried to say something, but everything went a little hazy and I closed my good eye for a moment. Bye bye Doug.

Turned out that I tore my forehead open and concussed myself, needed half a dozen stitches and bed rest for a coupla days. Gary came by, and a couple of other guys. My mom drove down to make sure she wasn't going to have a vegetable son for the rest of her life. Annie visited, checked out her interests, slipped me a baggie as she left. 

Third day I woke up from my morning nap and wondered what was blocking the light. I struggled to focus and nearly passed out again. She was standing looking at me, looking pissed as hell. 

'You owe me, Mr. Douglas goddam Taylor. I'm gonna be in fuckin' plaster the whole next month.' Click. Never been so relieved to hear imaginary sounds. Thank God for summer.

'Judy? Judy Olsen? What you doing here?' I already knew. I could see she was on crutches.

'How come you know my name? You fell down your fucking front steps and broke my fucking ankle, dickwad. That's why I'm here. When you gonna get off your ass and start some fucking payback?' Hell, she was some kinda potty mouth. 

'I seen you in the library, asked who you were. What payback? Jeez, my head hurts. You wanna hand me those painkillers and some water?' She hobbled forward and passed me the stuff, balancing on one crutch and propping the other against the bed. Click.

'Shit, Judy, I'm sorry. Last thing I remember is slipping on some goddam leaves, then I was here. I wasn't aimin' to cripple ya. Tell me what ya want. Whyntcha sit down? Standing too long's gotta be a problem.' She glared at me not quite so hard and gimped over to a chair.

'You OK? You sure gotta lot of bruising.'

'Banged myself up pretty good. You?' She shrugged.

'Cracked a bone, tore the ligaments up a tad. Coulda been worse, I guess. You really ask someone who I was?' She was calming down some.

'Last year. Started sitting where I could see you.' I thought I saw her react to that. 'Tell me what ya need. Anything. I been wanting to meet ya a long time now, but hell, not this way. Makes me feel like a real jerk.' She nodded, then cracked a reluctant grin..

'Got that right. How come you're not gabbling and apologizing like you oughta? Click.

'Cheap words gonna help any? I'm outa here this afternoon they say. I meant what I said. Anything I can do, it's done.' She looked at me hard again.

'You gotta car, right?' 

'Old Valiant. Ugly but reliable.' She nodded.

'School I can manage. Stairs are a pain in the ass, but nothing's too far to get to. But I'm a psych major and I gotta do three evenings a week in a clinic this semester, placement.. It's kinda like an internship for students.' 

'Dean's list students, I bet. There ain't enough clinics in the state for the whole class.' This time she did pink up a little.

'Well, yeah, and I gotta keep my grades up. I slip off the list, my fuckin' scholarship goes south. Clinic's outa town and I been riding the bus, but that's screwed now.'

'Outa evil good shall come. I heard that on the radio. What evenings? How long? Is there a room I can study in? You wanna have pizza tonight and work out a schedule?' She stared, and this time it wasn't a hard one.

'Just like that? Not going to wriggle even a little?' No fuckin' way, lady. This is my foot in the door.

'You think I wanna be the guy shafted your career? We could do Mexican, you don't like pizza.' The stare again.

'Good job I'm a psych major. You're plain abnormal. You like Chinese?'

And that was that. Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, four miles outa town, deep in the subs, six till eight-thirty. She talked to the clinic director, explained the situation, they let me use someone's office to study. I picked her up from her dorm, dropped her back after; sometimes we grabbed something to eat. I radiated respectful admiration like a dam' lighthouse. Three forced study evenings kept my grades looking good. Messed up my gym time though, and the clicks stopped. No matter, no hurry: she didn't date hardly at all. I thought about how we'd met, looked at my graphs, played with the numbers some, and thought some more. On the one hand it wasn't the way I'd have chosen. On the other hand, it wasn't my leg that was broke, Unpredictable ability, but got the job done.

'Fuckin' frat rats,' she said one evening on the way back into town. 'Think all they gotta do is invite you to some party and you're gonna roll over and beg.' 

'Someone hitting on you?'

'All of 'em, every fuckin' day, seems like. Call me the fuckin' ice-queen, but they keep on hitting.' She sounded kinda despondent. Click, but real small. Hardly there at all.

'I never heard a psychologist with such a dirty mouth. And I seen your eyes when you're not mad. Green and beautiful. You're no ice-queen.' Even in the dark car I knew she was reddening.

'How come you don't hit on me then?' 

'And have you mad at me again? Once was enough.' She managed a laugh.

'I guess I came on pretty strong. I was real worried about the clinic hours, and I didn't know what kinda guy you were.'

'Judy, you seen me in the library like I seen you, and you knew I had a car, and you probably heard that I don't hit. You tell the next rat we're going steady, you want to. Hell, three times a week qualifies. I'll back that up and I won't hit on you.' This time I could almost feel the heat in her cheeks. When redheads blush they blush real good. 'So where's the mouth come from? Last year, looking at you, I kinda imagined Miss Prissy. Guess I was wrong.'

'I got three brothers. Can I really say that?' We'd arrived at her dorm and I got out to open the door for her.

'Whole family swear and cuss, huh? Kinda refreshing, I guess. Course you can say it. Good for my rep.' She was slower than usual getting outa the car, and let me help her. Breakthrough.

'Thanks, Doug. I guess I coulda had my ankle broke by worse people.' 

'My pleasure, ma'am. Uh, I guess I'm gonna catch the gym before it closes. See ya tomorrow.' That evening I worked out automatically, hating it, imagining sophisticated moves.

The plaster came off, but she decided her ankle still hurt, and I carried on giving her a ride three times a week. She limped a little those evenings, but I saw her with friends a coupla times and she looked to be pretty agile again. I stayed like Tar Baby and said nuth'n. 

Kinda shameful I guess, but I was with Annie when I thought of it. In fact she was the one lit the fuse. Her guy was off somewhere, and we were in bed, kinda sweaty, resting up before round two. We'd shared a joint and my head was buzzing a little. Annie was gently cleaning my cock, her skinny butt handy for stroking, and I was running my hand absent-mindedly down her ass crease and over her slippery lips, enjoying her reactions. I'd persuaded her to tidy herself up a little, told her going to the dentist for a trim was plain embarrassing, and the vegetation was more manageable than it useta be. 

'Doug?' 

'Don't stop. I'm kinda enjoying that.' Her sharp little teeth closed over my glans. 'Uh, sure, Annie, what were you gonna say.' She kissed me better and I relaxed.

'When's your birthday, Doug?' 

'August third. I don't do much with it. Summer, people are away, my family's never been big for that sorta stuff.' She twisted her head and looked at me.

'So you turned twenty and I missed it? I was planning to celebrate.' Click. First time for a while.

'Annie, you are a celebration every time I see ya. No need to spoil me more.' She gave me one last lick and swung round, balancing on my chest, rolling her hips just a little against my swelling cock.

'Woulda been kinda fun to surprise ya. Break through that laid-back shell for once.' She kissed me and gnawed on my bottom lip. 'Next year, if we're still good, I'll thinka something.' Her voice changed. 'What I'm gonna do now is ride you till you scream, teach you to spoil my plans. OK?'

'Celebration already. You wanna try to avoid drawing blood this time?'

She was as good as her word, and when she'd gone I was too tired to think. But she'd planted the seed.

Maybe the ability kicked in, maybe not, but Judy dropped her purse two days later, getting outa the car. Cards and stuff everywhere, and I crawled about collecting them while she cussed and told me not to miss anything. Her drivers' license was one of the casualties. Landed in a puddle, and I used my sweatshirt to wipe it off, happened to see that she was due a birthday three weeks after Christmas break. I checked the calendar when I got home, and saw it was a Friday. Perfect. I upped my gym time, hit the books like a bastard, practiced real respectful conversation, snuck round some and made plans. Hated the extra work, but the lines on the graph said it was time.

Two days before the day, Wednesday, I was benching some weight, focusing hard on my plans, and her face appeared, kinda fuzzy, but real as life, smiling and looking pretty pleased. There was a soft rumble in my head, like distant thunder, and she faded away. I felt kinda tired that night, a little stiff, but nothing forty-eight hours wouldn't deal with. I kept my hands off my cock and fell asleep imagining scenarios.

Friday I was ready. She always dressed up a little for the clinic, lookin' for the professional touch, I guess, so I ironed a shirt and bought a new pair of pants and shined my shoes. Put my ratty old coat over the top when I picked her up though. No point in showing my hand. Just before we got to the clinic she put her hand on my arm.

'Uh, Doug, can you pull up a minute? I need to say something.'

'Sure.' She reached up and put the little vanity light on and looked at me. 

'Um, I haven't been entirely honest about my ankle.' Click. Loud and strong.

'Shit, Judy, I thought it was healing like it should, no complications. What's wrong?' Crimson tide. She nearly glowed.

'No, it's fine. In fact it's been fine for a while now, but having a ride is kinda nice, and I didn't say anything because...' Her voice tailed away, then she took a deep breath. 'What I mean is, Tuesday I'll take the bus. I shoulda told you after break, but I was just selfish, I guess. I'm sorry.' I shook my head.

'For what? Talk about it later, Judy. I ain't gonna make you late.' I put the Valiant in gear, and we rolled. She stayed quiet, but I followed her in like always, toting my books, and made for the office I used. She started to say something, then stopped and went on down the hall. I guess I didn't do a lotta studying that evening: maybe half a page, and that took will-power. When the time came I was in the reception hall, trying to project reassurance. She arrived looking kinda miserable. 

'C'mon, kid. Time's a-wasting.' She didn't answer, but when I turned right instead of left at the gates she sat up. 

'Doug, whaddya doin'? Town's the other way.'

Hush up, Ms Judy. I got my reasons.' She looked real nervous and I stayed projecting calm. Lucky we only had a mile to go or she mighta cracked. When I pulled into the parking lot she stiffened, and when I parked, went round to open the door for her, she stayed where she was.

'I'm not movin' till you tell me why we're here.'

'To eat, dummy. This is a restaurant and I'm gonna buy you a meal. Table's booked, everything. You gonna get stubborn, hurt my feelings, end up feeling guilty?' After a pause she climbed outa the car and stood. 

'This place is real expensive, Doug. What's going on?' I sighed.

'I can buy you a meal, I want to. We're going steady remember? Least, that's what you told Ron Carter right before Christmas. He gave me seven kinds of shit in the gym, being kinda abusive and all. I had to reason with him some. Now, gimme your arm and behave like a lady. This is an upscale joint, so no doggie bags, OK?' She was redder than a beetroot but she took my arm when I offered it. We went in the doors and landed in the lap of luxury. I'd greased the maitre d's palm when I made the reservation, and he had us in a booth, kinda private. Candle on the table, single rose on her plate, an envelope beside it, 'Judith Olsen' on the front, copperplate script. She sat down automatically and looked at me, her mouth half-open. I sat opposite her and grinned..

'So open it already, Judy. Explanation's inside.' Her eyes didn't leave my face as she fumbled for the envelope and ran her thumb under the flap. Then she pulled out the card and looked down. You don't find many tasteful birthday cards, but I'd kept looking. "To a true friend, with sincere good wishes for your birthday" it said, and I'd signed my name, nothing more. I was kinda proud. She read it twice and when she looked up her eyes were sorta wet. Way to go. Right on cue a waiter arrived with a half-bottle of Iron Horse champagne. I was pleased with that touch. French champagne says "Hey, I got bucks", full bottle says "I wanna get you drunk". Half-bottle just says "respectful admiration". He opened it and poured and disappeared again. I raised my glass.

'Happy birthday, Ms Olsen, and shame on you for keeping so quiet. Good job I saw your drivers' license when you dropped your purse.' Loud click. 'I guess my present is saying go on using the car. I don't want you to be riding the bus all the time. You know where I park it, and I can get spare keys made real easy.' I sipped and waited. She put the card down and stood up, then moved round and slid into the booth next to me. She grabbed my head and kissed me thoroughly, like it was something she'd been waiting to do. I swear my toes curled clear round in a circle and I could feel tears on her cheeks. She straightened up, went back to her seat, picked up her napkin and wiped her eyes.

'What didya mean, reason with that dickhead Ronnie Carter?' I shrugged.

'I told ya. He was bein' kinda abusive, badmouthin' you, makin' personal remarks, so I took him aside. He saw reason pretty quick. He been hitting on you again?' She shook her head. 

'You never said. I can't say anything right now or I'll disgrace myself. You got the menu planned too?' Click.

'Thought I'd let ya choose for yourself. Don't want to look over-control.' She rolled her eyes.

'That'll be the fuckin' day.' She seemed to have perked up some, and I let out a little of the breath I'd been holding.

Dinner went real well. Champagne got drunk, but I virtuously refused wine, told the waiter I was driving, got an approving smile from her. She found her appetite and cleaned her plate. We talked about everything except friendship and going steady. Never does to spook the serious ones. There was atmosphere between us, sure, but it felt promising.

Going back she loosened her seat belt and moved over some. God bless the Valiant and its bench front seat. She leaned against me a little on the curves and I kept both hands on the wheel. By her standards she was coming on real strong. When I pulled up outside the dorm she didn't move for a while, then she opened the door. 

'Stay there for a second,' she said. 'I'll be right back.' She disappeared into the dorm and I wondered what was happening. She was back in two minutes, panting, and slid into the passenger seat again.

'I wanna see your apartment.' Click.

'Uh, Judy, that's not what this is about. You wanna see the apartment, you can come round for a meal, when Gary's there maybe...' She swiveled round in her seat and grabbed my head again, then leaned forward, her face almost touching mine.

'I wanna see your apartment right now, Doug Taylor, and I wanna proper birthday present. You good with that?' Click. 

'Ever since the first time I saw you.' I felt her shiver as I started the car again, and resisted the urge to whoop and holler.

I'd thought about clean sheets, but decided no. Too obvious, and she wasn't a stupid girl. I'd changed 'em since Annie's last visit though. I'm not stupid either. When we got to the apartment and I ushered her in and took her coat, she shivered again, then turned and put her arms round me.




Roomers Ch. 04



Old theme, new treatment, I hope. You need the earlier chapters or you'll get confused. (Best to start with number one, but that's just a personal view). Please remember to vote. I answer non-anonymous feedback. Satyricon.

'Whaddya mean, leave?' I was outraged. 'We're halfway through the dam' year, Rosie. How the hell you expect me ta find someone for just four months? What the hell's come over ya? Ya suddenly don't like it here?' I ran out of words and looked at her closely. Nice girl, or used to be, anyway. She was sitting quietly on the couch, looking calm.

'It's fine here, Doug, but God has called me and I must answer. I came to tell you that, and to say that I'll pray for you.' Shit, what can you say?

'Rosie, whyntcha have a coke or somethin', tell me what God said, stuff like that. Shit, girl, we known each other a while.' I talked some about Christian duty and she finally spilled.

Turned out she'd had the call, been thinking for a while, decided to answer it, had spent months planning it carefully, was going to leave next day, go to Africa, join some mission, everything settled already, no arguments please. Hadn't told her parents, so as not to upset them. Hadn't told me either. No worldly possessions, nosirree, no problem with me keeping the security deposits, she knew it was an inconvenience but God's word was final, and did I know anyone who needed a car? I kinda tuned out. Hell, she was twenty-four, nice family, half-way through a doctorate; so why not just take off and live in a fucking cesspit somewhere? Not my problem. Her car was another matter though. I knew someone who needed one of those suckers bad. I talked to her for a while, pointed out God moves in a mysterious way, stuff like that. Didn't say the person would be grateful as hell to anyone fixed up wheels for her. Didn't say I'd been thinking some about how to get her one. Didn't say this smelled like my dam' ability doing its usual ass-backward trick. 

When she was gone I fetched a beer and thought kinda despondently about how life kicks people around: Rosie's parents, didn't know their daughter was going to disappear out of their lives, Rosie, blind to everything except God's word. Me, stuck with an empty room and no chance of renting it unless I got real lucky. The poor fucking bastards Rosie was going to be looking after, I guess. Better not to forget them. Hell, they probably needed someone like her to work their corner. God's pretty smart, getting good people to do his chores. 

After a couple more beers I felt just as bad. Beer usually soothes, but four in a row is bad manners when you're alone. I stood up instead and stared out of my bay window. Spring had snuck up while I wasn't looking: people in lighter clothes, brighter colors. Someone, somewhere was playing Frisbee. Day like this in my junior year was what it reminded me of. The day I finally realized what I was.

After that first night with Judy, the rest of my sophomore year was a fucking dream. A lot of guys had been watching her, taken their best shots and walked away with their ears smarting, so the first time she appeared for breakfast with me, looking like a tired and happy woman, you could almost smell the disappointment. They were pissed that I'd nailed the ice-queen, proved them all wrong, so I got the usual comments, had to deal firmly with a couple of persistent badmouths, but when she heard about that her reaction was real positive. Ice-queen, my ass.

Hell, I'd never been part of a proper couple before. I kinda forgot that I'd set the whole thing up, spent all that time pumping iron, studying just as if I cared, hating every minute, working on the fantasies, keeping my hands off my cock: I guess my brain just papered over the memory, or I wanted to believe she'd fallen for me all by herself. Beautiful feeling. And she was a conscientious girl too: grades first, then Doug. Meant I could take enough time out to keep it fresh, return the favors with enthusiasm. 

I'd been kinda nervous about telling Annie, but she was way cool. Guess if you're a hippy and into free love and stuff, plus you got a steady guy as well as a college toyboy, you need to be tolerant. I spent a while telling her how nice it'd be to keep spending time with her, and I guess that tipped the odds a bit. She promised not to mark me up anymore, agreed not to come round to my place, even understood when I said Judy was gonna go on the pill, so her and me had better be a condom relationship. For all I knew, her traveling guy was screwing the entire hippy community when he was away. 

Like I said, I was in the catbird seat: from her birthday through to summer we cruised. I cut down some on the gym time, figured I was getting regular exercise anyway. Kept up the studying though: between Gary and her, I didn't have much choice. Kept up the imagining, visions of her and me trying new stuff together dancing through my head. When I checked the graph the lines were hanging in fine, running about eighty percent of the Patty Dukes high spot. Eighty percent and holding steady is better than a hundred percent once in a while, right? Happiest I ever been, I guess, looking back from here. I hadn't been honest with myself, that's why. Remember that: pure honesty is a killer. People can't handle it, and if they can't, neither will you.

First week back after the summer we were at my apartment, kinda enjoying being together. At least, I was. She'd worked the whole break, interning in some child psychology department at a hospital on the coast. I stayed at the apartment. Mom and Dad were going through a bad spell and a small town summer watching fights plain didn't appeal. I took a job stacking shelves, nights, Gary kept paying his share of the rent. I had a few nice times with Annie, smoked a little grass, managed an hour every other day in the gym, hating every fucking minute, missed Judy some as well.

'What's gonna happen, Doug?' she asked. She was propped up on one elbow, her head over my crotch, taking an occasional mouthful of cock. She'd raised one leg for me and I was doing much the same, teasing her a little, enjoying the build-up, the contrast of pale skin and dark pink pussy and trimmed auburn fur. Some of the rest of her was a different pink, little blotches where she'd peeled some. Redheads don't tan real well. She looked like she was color-coded.

'Right now? Gonna roll you over and practice makin' love, minute you say "Go". After that, depends. Then we can go get something to eat, and then I gotta hit the library or you'll beat up on me.' Her lips slid down my shaft then up again. 

'I guess I didn't mean right now. I'm a senior now, Doug. This year's gonna be awful full.'

'And I'm a junior and I just changed my major. Gonna be pretty busy too. Hell, we can swing it. I'll be here for you, you'll be here for me, library's there for both of us.' She nodded absently, then took hold of my cock and ran her tongue teasingly over the head, peering up at me.

'You really like eating me, dontcha?'

'You sure do jump around some. Lemme see, the answer is "sho' nuff". All the major food groups, great taste, great texture, great reactions, no calories. Perfect first course. You want me to show ya how much I like it?' No reply. Oh-oh. I reached round and hauled her up, settled her in the crook of my arm, hoping for a click. Nothing.

'There's somethin' more here, kid. Tell me what's bugging ya.' She wasn't going to be coaxed.

'And you like it when I eat you, dontcha? Whyd'ya like it so much? '

'Jeez, Judy, what kinda question is that? Because it's fuckin' wonderful, is why. You want me to be serious, it's like a sign of trust, I guess, knowing you ain't gonna bite down hard, stuff like that.' She thought about that.

'Never felt like that to me. I mean I can do it now, and I know you love it, so I don't mind so much, but I hate the taste, and the feel in my mouth, and my fuckin' jaw hurts for hours afterwards. It kinda feels like a chore.' She wasn't looking at me and her body had kinda tensed up. Still no click. Where's the dam' script when you need it?

'Shit, Judy, so don't do it. This is us, not a fuckin' trade-off. You shoulda said. No problem if I keep right on with the food groups though, huh?' She shook herself and her old self smiled through.

'Whenever I want, Silvertongue, but what I wanna do now is put your cock somewhere I like it.' She rolled and straddled me, pinning my hands with hers, her pale breasts swaying as she leaned over. 'Make it stand right up.' I flexed my cock, forcing it clear of my belly, and she shuffled backwards and managed to get it set right, then sank onto it and sighed, sounding happier. Looked pretty pleased with herself. 

'See, mister, no hands.' No mouth either, I thought. Bummer.

'Good trick. Ya were readin' a book as well, that'd be prime time.' She bent forward and bit my nose softly, growling a little.

'No more talking.' Her hips began to tilt and I took her face in my hands, kissed her some while we warmed up. Soon we were moving together, feeling each other's needs as the pressure grew, and it was almost as good as before.

She'd rung a couple of bells though. When she'd left, cussing about the time, taking the car so she wasn't late for something, I went and turned on the PC. I'd bought it over the summer and transferred three years worth of ability data from my ratty old graphs onto a spreadsheet program. Part of the package of crap they give you when they take your money, but this one was kinda neat. For cashflow, predictions, floating variables, stuff like that. Business applications, but flexible. I'd spent some time figuring it out, then fiddled with it some till I found a way to factor all my stuff in. 

That evening I ran it backward and forward, did my best to tighten up the parameters, thought about comments Patty had made, and Julie Anderson; Judy too.

'Ya know, there's a part of me that's been wantin' this since last year. You caught me once, sneaking peeks in the library. Then when you fell down those dam' steps an' all, it was so weird. I mean, such a weird way to meet. You ever think that?' She'd said that the night of her birthday, first time we'd fucked, and the same night she'd come back to it. 'Something kinda clicked when I saw you. Not straight away, more like gradual. Strange feeling, made me start noticing you more. You'da hit on me, I don't think I'da brushed you right off.'

I thought back to what I'd been doing and thinking back then, best I could, changed the weighting some, ran the program again, didn't like what I saw. I shut the machine off and went to find something to eat.

One of the things you have to understand about slackers is we don't think much beyond tomorrow. Worry is stress and stress is for other people. We kinda have enough self-esteem not to sweat it too much, believe we'll deal with problems when they arrive, manage OK somehow, stuff like that. Shit, it's in the Bible even: 'sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof'. Says it right there. So I let it alone, carried on the way I'd been: little gym time, some study time too, time thinking about Judy and how she looked when she was coming hard under me, how she tasted and smelled and felt. Funny thing, since I'd changed my major to History the studying came easier, caught my attention some. Twice I even broke a date with Judy so I could finish stuff up, maybe improve my grade. I knew it surprised her, but I got a reluctant nod of acceptance when I explained. Hell, she did it too, time to time. She didn't talk about BJ's again, and I didn't push. Annie went down on me like a fucking steamhammer every time I saw her, so I could handle it. Hippies have their talents, I guess.

Thanksgiving, Christmas, coming up to Spring break. You have to understand, nothing was bad, exactly. Hell, not like the year before, but the first six months of a relationship are always better, right? You're discovering new stuff, hot for a new body, new games, new everything. Even the new faults are adorable. How cute that she reminds me every day my hair needs cutting, till I go get it done in self-defense. How nice that she tells me everything twice, assumes I can't find my butt without both hands and a map. How sweet she was upset that I went out with the guys for a few beers that time. It's a sign that she cares, right?

Hell, Judy wasn't like that, but you know what I mean. Stuff starts to grate after a while, no matter how good everything is. Often, the smaller the problem, the bigger it feels.

I guess we were jogging along. Everything was fine. Both busy, both still hot for each other, both unwilling to look around. Hell, I was seeing Annie, but that was different. Didn't want to break her heart, and she and I, we laughed at stuff that Judy didn't think was real funny. Judy was kinda quiet and thoughtful once in a while, but hell, senior year, she had a right. What I didn't realize was all the important stuff. Important for her, I mean

Saturday before Easter break I was out enjoying some early sun, playing Frisbee with some people, not thinking about much. When I heard a car horn , realized it was mine, I jogged over to her.

'Hi, kid. Come to collect me?' She smiled the way she did when she was being bad.

'Collect ya, inspect ya, strip ya down and service ya, stuff like that. You wanna finish your game?' I was climbing into the car.

'What game?' She snorted and we took off.

In the apartment she was feverish. Pushed me onto the bed, stood over me looking down, eyes bright.

'We are for sure gonna screw this afternoon, and when we done that we're gonna screw again till we're too tired to do anything else. You good with that?' She was stripping off her clothes as she spoke, and I hurried to catch up. I had my pants and shorts off, and was ripping at my shirt buttons when she landed on me. I ended up flat on my back again, her sitting astride me, outlined against the sunlight coming through the window. I squinted up at her, had the sense to keep my mouth shut.

"Fired up" is too soft a phrase. She was pumped, glowing with everything that was her. She knew I was staring, and she straightened up, put her hands behind her head, pushed her chest forward.

'You like what you see, Doug?' Her voice was soft and caressing, full of love, just a hint of something else hiding behind the soft purr. I wished I'd been putting in more gym time, having better fantasies, whatever. Not a click to be heard. Seemed like I was on my own.

'Ever since I saw ya the first time, Judy.' She smiled.

'Love that fuckin' line. Me too, Doug. I love what I see.' She stayed there for a moment, like a carved statue. Her posture pulled her breasts up real high: the slight crease underneath them gone, just the soft swell of flesh, pale and freckled, familiar. Breasts I'd kissed a thousand times: the nipples hard and pointy, the way they were when she was ready to go, small pink areolas pulled taut, pebbled and wrinkled, screaming to be soothed. Her breath was rapid and shallow, her stomach muscles tight, fluttering just enough so I knew she was full of something I didn't understand. She lifted herself onto her knees and pushed her pelvis forward. 

'Ya like this, too?' Her knees were gripping my torso, the strong tendons in her thighs standing out clearly. Where her body forked I could see her pussy lips, full and plump, glistening with need. I wasn't entirely sure what she needed though. She lowered her hands and pulled herself wide open, thrusting herself forward even more. 'And this? Ya fuckin' love this, dontcha, Doug?' Her voice was still a caressing murmur. I kissed the tip of my finger and laid it gently on the top of her slit. Still had the good sense not to say anything: this was her, and I'd do better listening than joining in. She shivered as I touched her, then swiveled so that her ass was facing me. When she spoke again her voice was different, still soft, but with an edge to it.

'This is for you, Doug, because I love you, and you better not butt in.' I felt her take a deep breath, then her head dropped slowly and her lips closed round my slack cock, sucking me deep into her mouth.

Kinda took me by surprise, I guess, and it wasn't till her hand slipped between my legs, cupping my balls gently and stroking them, that I began to get hard. The big vein along the bottom of my shaft started pulsing and her top lip pressed down on it and her soft fingers rubbed it further down, behind my balls, right where the seam melts into the ass. My cock twitched and she began to work it with all of her, her head rising and falling, her hands fluttering over my balls and round my thighs and ass, her own ass sliding along my chest, out of reach. A hard, urgent aroma was coming from her, and her pussy lips were darker than I'd ever seen them. 

I tried to reach out for her, but her hand left my balls and whipped round, slapped mine away. The rhythm of her movements accelerated, head bobbing fast, her tongue whipping round me, insistent pressure from her fingers. Her determination, all of her focused, pushed me right along and I was as hard as I'd ever been, straining upwards, trying not to fuck her mouth, spoil whatever she trying to prove. The warm slithery warning flooded through my groin and down to my balls.

'Uh, Judy...' She took no notice, upped the tempo again, and my seed burst through my doubts, spurting into her warm mouth. She kept her lips closed tight, breathing hard through her nose, and when I'd finished she let my cock slip through them and straightened up, turned round again. When she was good and sure I was paying attention she opened her mouth and showed me my cum, white and thick, dribbling a little over her lips, then closed her mouth again and swallowed convulsively, her throat working as she forced it down, almost gagging but not quite. I saw her tongue running round inside, collecting saliva, and she kinda swished it round and swallowed again.

'That's how much I love ya, Doug.' Then the tears started trickling down her cheeks and I reached up and pulled her down and held her close against me, stroking her back slowly and feeling sorta helpless, not knowing what words would help her.

After a little while she quietened and we lay some more, not saying a word, then she twisted out of my arms and went to the bathroom. I heard her brushing her teeth and gargling for what seemed to be the longest time, then she came back and smiled brilliantly.

'Time for your food groups, I guess.' She climbed onto the bed and straddled me again, then kneewalked up my body till her pussy was over my mouth. She leaned forward and braced her arms against the wall above the bed, then let her body sink towards me.

'Go'. I went, wanting real bad to make it special for her. She was more than wet. Hell, her pussy felt as if it had been dipped in a bucket, her taste stronger than usual. Funny, but I remember I noticed a visible pulse in the big vein in her thigh before my vision contracted and I dragged my tongue the length of her, the way I always did before the show. She purred and settled herself, moving herself a little and her clit pushed against my nose straight away. Normally she wanted a little teasing while she warmed up, but not right now. I curled my tongue up and round, caught her low-slung G spot and began to work both sensitive areas the way she liked, trying to pace everything, not wanting to force anything.

No chance. She took hold of the reins straight away, driving herself onto me, moving fast, pushing herself like a madwoman. Within minutes she was gasping, her thighs clamped round my head, the trembling of her orgasm beginning, then she cried out, real loud and froze for a second before I felt her pussy contracting spasmodically round my face. Apart from that first sound she was silent while it flooded through her, and when she'd stopped and her body relaxed. I still didn't know what to do. Like always, her taste, experiencing her reactions, had got me hard again. She moved off my mouth and glanced over her shoulder, then rolled over and lay on her back, legs open wide, one hand rubbing her clit gently. Her belly was still fluttering. 




Roomers Ch. 05



Old theme, new treatment, I hope. You need the earlier chapters or you'll get confused. (Best to start with number one, but that's just a personal view). Please remember to vote. I respond to non-anonymous feedback. Satyricon.

When I woke, my morning experience turned out to be real uncomfortable, mostly because one arm was trapped under Ellen. Hell, a hundred thirty pounds is fine when it's vertical, but when it's completely relaxed and playing sleeping beauty all over you, different story. Why I don't usually encourage overnighters. That and sharing a bathroom before I'm functioning properly. Still, she looked cute. Not as cute as the night before, all fired up and sparkling eyes, working on gratitude with energy and due diligence, but still kinda nice to watch.

The arm was another matter. I eased it out from under and slid out of bed. Good God above, only six-thirty. Put a good face on it, I thought. She's got work to do, and you don't want her to be running late all day, feeling resentful. It would be nice if she thought the next piece of 'thank you' could be penciled in for next week, maybe.

Morning necessities: you gotta visitor so try not to splash, juice, coffee. Full consciousness returned and I took a cup through to her and shook her gently. She mumbled sleepily and sipped, then saw the clock and went into frenzy mode.

'Shit, good job I gotta car,' she called from the bathroom. 'Doug, you are a prince. Wanna go someplace and party, next week maybe?' Bingo. She zoomed into the front room to fetch her clothes, and I stayed out of the way, remembering the times when I had to get up early and start moving almost immediately. Jesus, how I'd hated it. She erupted into the kitchen again, kissed me cheerfully, brandished her car keys with a goofy smile on her face, and was gone. I poured more coffee and felt pretty good.

I was still busy doing that, when there was a knock on the door. I looked at my watch: not eight o'clock yet. There were obviously more fools about than I thought, but the knock said "Susan", so I opened.

'Uh, Good morning, Doug.'

'Hi to you, Susan. You couldn't sleep either, huh? Want some coffee?' She looked puzzled. 

'Oh, no thanks. I've been up for ages. I saw your light and wanted to ask you something.'

'So shoot.' Now she colored up. I was astonished all over again that someone who looked so fucking hot could be so timid. In her summer shorts and T-shirt, hair loose, spraying good health and sex-appeal in equal quantities, she was a pleasure to look at. She took a deep breath, which distracted me some.

'Uh, I was wondering if I can use the garden, now that summer's nearly here. Would that be alright?'

'You wanna plant something?' She stared, then almost laughed.

'Oh no, not at all. I mean, would it be OK if I sunbathed there at weekends? If I could study out there it'd be so neat. I might even get a little tan.' My kitchen and bedroom overlook the garden.

'Sure, Susan, no problem. Every year there's someone who's a sun-bunny. Nothing too provocative though: Timmy's third floor back, remember, and he's kinda susceptible. Don't want to hafta resuscitate him twice a week.' This time she did laugh.

'I think you're teasing me now, uh, Doug. Just an ordinary, decent bikini, I promise.' She spotted the wall clock and gasped. 'Oh, heavens. I must run. Thank you so much.'

She disappeared like the White Rabbit and I poured more coffee. Seemed like the world was full of cuties in a hurry today. I wondered what an ordinary, decent bikini would look like on that firm young body. Might as well hit the gym early, I thought, since I appeared to be awake already.

Later I stood and looked out of the bay window. Early rising, early gym. Shit. I shuddered as I remembered what that reminded me of: those last four months of my junior year, trying to save Judy from the consequences of me. Jeez, I'd been so glad when that bomb went off in my head and I knew the talent was going to kick in. Later I wasn't so sure.

I'd woken up in hospital. Turned out that the gym director couldn't rouse me, thought I'd ruptured something vital and called a fleet of ambulances, all the usual overreactions. A doctor came and told me I was fine, lay off the weights for a day or two, and I started dressing. I knew the next day or two were gonna be tense, but hell, if all that awful effort was gonna pay off, I was good with it. No gym today though, nor ever again, if I could help it, I thought as I strolled back to the apartment.

The campus had that end of semester feeling. People looking wiped out after partying, happy people who'd done OK, depressed people who'd flunked; an air of finality washing over everything. I went looking for Judy, like a good thoughtful guy should.

She was sitting in the wreckage of her room, projecting glum.

'I gotta pack stuff I'd forgotten I had. Look, there's photos of us.' She showed me Polaroids. Our first proper date, the morning after our first overnighter, with her looking well-fucked and happy and me looking like the cat that ate the canary, goofy pictures of college kids doing dumb things. Kinda bought a lump to my throat. 

'They look like two younger people. You wanna let me have some of those? Something to take me through the next coupla weeks.' She was going home for a while, catch up with family, kick back, do some thinking she said. I knew she had a proper internship arranged, and that it was three states away. We'd talked about that some. She kissed me.

'Course you can. I got others. You really think we look younger?' She sounded a little wistful, but I nodded. Pointing out that we'd changed was gonna be important, I hoped.

'We've both grown up some since I broke your leg.' She always smiled when I reminded her of that.

'Two days Doug. What we gonna do with them?' I didn't have a clue. I was waiting for something to happen, for the clicks to butt in.

'Whatever you want. Didn't you get an invitation to some sorority party? We could go along, show off some, or we could go be private somewhere, or...' She interrupted me. 

'Can we do both? The party's tonight, at Shania's sorority, and then we could go to the apartment, and then tomorrow go off somewhere for the day.' I'd done my bit, I thought. What was gonna happen was gonna happen through her, same as it had with Patty and Annie. I was there to listen for the clicks, let them prompt me.

'Sure. How formal?' She rolled her eyes.

'Formals are all done, Doug. How long you been here? Not Levis, though.' She hopped up and kissed me. 'Stop lookin' like that. You're gonna ask me if I want help with the packin' and you're so sweet, but the answer's no. You'd drive me crazy. There's things that girls need to do without help. Go play Frisbee or something, and pick me up here at eight. OK?' She kissed me again and made shooing noises. 

Six-thirty, I was looking at pants and wondering what to wear when the phone rang.

'Doug?'

'Who else? What's happening? You think I should wear dark pants, light shirt, or the other way round? What you wearing?' When she spoke her voice was hesitant.

'Uh, Doug, I feel kinda bad saying this, but can we call tonight off? All that packing kinda killed me dead; I don't think I can manage anything loud.' Click.

'No problem, Judy. What you wanna do? Quiet meal, come watch TV, massage your neck if you want, and I promise not to hit on you.' Weak laugh.

'Uh, Doug, I feel real wobbly. I'm gonna take a Tylenol, go to bed. I feel so bad about this...' Click.

'Shit, Judy, if you're sick, you're sick. You want me to bring you anything?' 

'You're so sweet, but no. Just lemme sleep and I'll call you in the morning, OK?' I was sympathetic and we talked foolishness for another minute, and she said she loved me and hung up. I looked at the phone. Judy Olsen just lied to me. Never shit a shitter, Ms Judy. We know evasion when we hear it. I wondered for half a second whether to go see Annie, then turned the idea down flat. I was gonna be upset but loyal, stay at home, watch reruns of MASH. Something was moving for sure. Maybe I'd say a little prayer of gratitude.

What I did instead was read some. History, not trash. Reading's a soothing thing to do, and for slackers it's the best. You can put the book down any time, take a leak, fetch a beer, no need to wait for a commercial break, go out for two hours, anything. The book's still there when you get back, waiting patiently. Books are not time-sensitive.

I was outa bed at nine next morning, shaved, dressed for a summer picnic, wondering what was gonna happen.

There was a ring on the doorbell and I picked up the basket of goodies I'd bought and hit the stairs. She wasn't dressed for a summer picnic, not at all, and looked as if she hadn't slept any. I examined her closely. Her eyes were shifting and she looked nervous, and at the back of them was something I recognized. Judy Olsen, I thought, you got laid last night. 

'Hi, Doug. Uh, I gotta talk to you.' Her voice was small and flat, like a little kid who's been ordered to apologize. Click.

'Sure, Judy. Shit, what's the matter? Ya look terrible.' I tried to kiss her but she twisted away.

'Can we go up?'

'What's wrong, Judy? How come you're dressed like that? I kinda thought the picnic was still on.' When we got into the apartment she sat down, in an armchair, not on the couch like always, and gulped twice, then started.

Shit, it was terrible. I mean terrible. I'd been concentrating like a fucking maniac on not hurting her, trying for a civilized break-up, one where I wasn't gonna cause her pain. And my fucking talent had said OK, let her hurt herself instead, and think she's hurting you as well. Won't be you hurting her, boy, and you can sleep easy.

Shania had come round, she said in that dead little voice, and her brother and cousin were with her, and they'd been excited about the party, and Shania had persuaded her to go out for lunch, leave the packing for an hour, and she'd agreed.

The cousin's name was Mitch. He'd just graduated out of med. school, was doing a first year internship, starting in September. They'd talked. His internship was in the same city as hers. Wow, they were gonna be neighbors. He was real confident, good-looking, intelligent, dedicated, a fucking saint. She sounded as if she thought he could walk on water, and as if every word she said was a self-inflicted wound.

They'd spent the whole afternoon talking, and he was so fascinating. He'd suggested they go to the sorority party together, and she'd said no, and he'd kinda smiled and said sure you will, and she'd finally agreed, because he was so interesting, she didn't mean it to be anything more, And this and that, and that and this, upshot was she called me and begged off, went to the party with him, they finished up in her empty room at three in the morning, fucking like maniacs; well, what she said was, "we ended up in bed". Then it was oh Doug, she didn't know what to say, it was like a bolt from the blue, but she loved him. She'd never felt like this before, and she was so sorry, lots more stuff like that. I didn't ask if she'd blown him first.

I have to say that I was pissed. Didn't need any clicks to react right. Looking back, I can't say for sure if I was pissed with her or with what I'd fucking done. Suddenly she was the most precious thing in the world, and she was walking away from me of her own free will.

Of her own free will? Bullshit. I knew that she didn't understand either, was confused and unhappy and didn't know why her heart was telling her to do this. She didn't know it was me that had twisted it. I was angry with her and with myself and with my ability. What's the point of having a fucking talent if it don't treat people right?

So I stomped and shouted and begged, and she looked sadder and sadder and kept shaking her head, and I made an effort and calmed down some. Pissed or not, I didn't really want her to change her mind. Did I? Click. 

'Shit, Judy, if that's the way it is, then I hope you'll be real happy with him. I'll try to be here for you if you need me. People change. But it hurts, Judy. I worked real hard, and I didn't want this. You think you could go now, please?' She got up and left, didn't say a word. I looked outa the window and there was a Mercedes convertible a little way down the street. She climbed in the passenger seat and put her head on the driver's chest. I knew she was crying. He held her and stroked her hair some and I turned away from the window. 

Problem solved.

Shit, I spent the rest of the day in the apartment. Hardly moved off the couch. Didn't wanna go out, didn't wanna do anything just as if it had come as a real shock. About six, I went up to the dorm. Her room was empty, and I stood and looked at it. A couple of girls stood in the doorway of another room across the hall, watching me kinda pityingly. I turned to them.

'She left already?' One of them nodded. 'With him?' She nodded again. I turned round and left.

Good thing people were packing and leaving. I don't think I coulda stood too much sympathy. Word got out about what had happened with Doug and Judy, and I got embarrassed words of condolence, people feeling sorry for me. Shit, I hated it. 

Gary was a prince.

'Whaddya gonna do, dude?' he asked the next evening. 'Anything you want, you got it. You want company or not? Wanna go get drunk?'

'Hell, Gary, I don't have a fuckin' clue. I never felt like this before.' That was for sure true. He shook his head.

'Shit, dude, I seen ya workin' on it, seen her being pleased, seen you together. Can't imagine what changed in her head.'

'Shit happens, Gary.'

He worked summers in his Dad's business but put off going back home to his family and his fiancée, so as not to leave me by myself, and I felt guiltier and guiltier, and he thought I was depressed and I couldn't fucking bear it. After three days I had to say I was beginning to feel better, and he looked at me kinda strange. We agreed the same deal as last year: he'd keep on paying his half of the rent and I'd stay in town, earn some money, heal up a little, fresh start next year: all the clichés. He looked happier and went off home to get laid, first time in weeks.

Economics being a fucking soul-burning fact, I did for real have to find work. I guess I lucked out some, because I got last summer's job back, as team leader, except they called it "Promoter of Excellence". Bullshit of course, but it meant more dough, less physical stuff, the chance to order people around; more responsibility as well, but shit, stacking shelves ain't exactly rocket-science. I was pretty sure I could do it excellently.

One week later I stepped into Annie's dad's shop. He was sitting looking at nothing, dreaming of Hawkwind, I guess, and Annie was dusting stuff and humming. She looked round and then put the duster down and examined me closely.

'Some hurt, some experience, some decisions, mebbe a little guilt,' she said, and smiled. 'Whaddya wanna do, Doug?' No pity. Thank God for that. 

'Early dinner, tell you thank you. You done more for me than you know.' She looked pleased.

'You OK to say thank you properly? It's been a while.' My heart lifted and I began to understand in like better.

'My place, call for pizza? I got chocolate ice-cream too.' She went over to her dad and shook him gently.

'Gonna go out, Dad. You're on your own.' She picked up an old alarm clock and set it. 'Close the shop when the clock goes, OK?' He beamed and nodded and we left.

As we walked to the apartment I just told her that Judy and I had split up, that she'd gone off with another guy, that I was still feeling kinda upset. She nodded wisely.

'Sure, Doug. That's what happened. But you ain't upset enough. You did something to make it happen: something smart or something stupid. Smart, probably. Told you a long time ago you'd be dangerous one day. I don't wanna know too much, tell the truth. Am I the first person you talked to?' 

'No-one else knows who I am, Annie.' She looked pleased again. 

In the apartment we lasted about ten seconds before we were undressing each other. Two minutes after that we were naked on my bed, late afternoon sun streaming in through the window. I'd forgotten how small she was, fragile even, and how she looked so vulnerable and was really so tough. She crawled into the crook of my arm and wriggled.

'Shit, Doug, I'd kinda forgotten how you feel. It's like opening a good book you read before and you always enjoy. Better than grass, even.' Who'da thought that a skinny little hippy could be so comforting?

'Missed you some too, Annie, and I got no plans to do that again.' That was all I said, and she didn't ask for more, just reached down and stroked my cock. 

'We got a lot of catching up ta do, so we better think about this. I oughta go first, by rights, seein' as I been neglected, but I get such a fuckin' kick outa seein' you hard for me that I'll be patient. Don't expect too patient though. Here.' She let go of my cock and pulled my hand down to her crotch, opening her legs wide. I cupped my palm over her tangled curls and she snorted.

'Way too fuckin' polite, Doug. This is Annie, remember?' She pushed my hand away and curved a finger inside herself, withdrew it and held it to my mouth. I sniffed, then licked it clean. It was sharp and aromatic and moist, and my cock began to firm up. 

'Annie, you be as impatient as you like. I'm a starving man here.' Her hand slipped to my cock again and squeezed it.

'One little whiff of pussy and you got a boner?'

'Your pussy, Annie.' She squirmed upright and leaned over and kissed me hard, catching my tongue, twining hers round it. Then she trailed her lips down my neck and chest, slowly over my belly, and then drew me into her mouth. She shifted slightly to get a better angle, and made a little sound of contentment. Her eyes were closed and she parted her thighs slightly, lifted her mouth for a moment.

'Just tease for now, Doug, and don't bite your tongue. I don't want you chewin' on my first course.' Judy had never been so upfront. Bawdy in her own way, but only afterwards: she never came out and said exactly what she wanted. I reached out gently and slid my fingers through the soft fleece and ran them slowly along the damp lips. Annie shivered and dropped over my cock again, her mouth working in that good way, the sorta way that lets you know you can come real fast and she won't care, because she's doin' this for you. Hell, for her too, I guess. Nobody wants a two minute main course. Pleasure bolts raced through me as she took me along the always new, still familiar route, and a heavy liquid sensation began to pool in the pit of my belly. My balls stirred and churned, and she cupped them gently with her free hand. I thought I felt her smiling to herself, but that can't have been true. She did something behind my balls, a twisting kinda pressure, and it all came flooding out, hard into her, while my body tensed and arched with the flashing sparks of release. 

One thing about Annie, she never choked or spilled. One of her talents was sucking and swallowing at the same time. When I'd finished she stayed quiet, letting me soften in her mouth, then cleaned me with her tongue and scooted back up into my arms.

'Jeez, Doug, how long you been savin' that load? Ever since she split?' She chuckled to herself, then reached up and tugged my ear. 'Didn't mean to be unkind. You probably done your best, and sometimes there's no way to avoid shit. Did she get hurt bad?' 


'Hell, Annie, I guess she's feeling bad, and guilty, and hurt. Just hope she's feeling a little bit happy with him. Fuck it, she'll recover and so will I. You want your first course?'

'Thought you'd never ask. I wanna be on my back though.' So I knelt at the foot of the bed, her skinny thighs beckoning me, worked through the bushes, slid my tongue once along her warm center.




Roomers Ch. 06



Old theme, new treatment, I hope. You need the earlier chapters or you'll get confused. (Best to start with number one, but that's just a personal view). This is a longer chapter: too much information to fit into the normal three Literotica pages, so I've split it, "for your comfort and convenience" as they say. Please remember to vote. I respond to non-anonymous feedback. Satyricon.

*

PART ONE

I was way pissed as I stood in the bay window trying not to listen to her. May oughta be a good month, and now I had to make choices. Shoot for her, shoot for Candice, or try and reconcile them, keep on dreamin' about both barrels. Well, fuck number three: I'm not the dam' United Nations. Her voice went on, kinda like a soprano chain-saw and she was red in the face, looking angry. First time I'd ever seen her like that. 

'... And last night she brought someone back and I heard them. You know her room's right over mine, and I could hear the bed moving, and them moaning and everything. It was disgusting. They were like animals.' I'd heard them too. Sounded like they were havin' some pretty dirty fun. I'd even given myself a few strokes while I listened. Shit, she was beginnin' to get on my nerves. Maybe I'd been wrong about her.

'Rachel has guys back once in a while, Susan,' I said, 'and she ain't a quiet girl. You've never complained.' She looked at me as if I was stupid. 

'Mr. Taylor, Rachel doesn't bring back other women: we are talking about perversion, not normal relationships. I pay my rent on time and I want you to do something about it right now.' Definitely not number three. She'd left my door ajar and I was pretty sure Candice and Rachel were still in the house: number two was lookin' better. I spoke a little louder

'Susan, I'm sorry but it's your problem. This is the twenty-first century and life's moved on. Hell, girl, I'm kinda surprised at you. She's quiet, she works hard, and she pays her rent on time too. I kinda like her. We talk about history some. Her personal life's nothing to do with you or me. You gonna complain that she's black as well?' Nice touch, that.

'Mr. Taylor, I have rights as a tenant here, and listening to that kind of filth isn't one of them.' There goes number one.. She was probably the sort of girl who thought BJ's were a perversion too. I cranked up the volume another notch.

'Fuck your rights. Susan, here's what you can do. You can carry on listening when Candice brings someone back, or you can go buy some earplugs, or you can pack and go. You choose to go, I'll give you back half your fuckin' security deposit, which is dam' generous of me. You choose to stay, you can shut the fuck up, and in the meantime you can go look for somewhere else to live. I don't want you in my fuckin' house any more. And if you give Candice any shit at all I'll throw your ass out on the street and you can take me to court. I'd fuckin' love to explain all this to some liberal judge.' I went over to the door and held it wide open. There was a scuffling noise on the stairs and I was glad I'd raised my voice some.

'Have a nice day, Susan.' She glared at me and stomped out and I heard her go upstairs and slam her room door. I went over to the bay window and breathed deeply. Jeez, I hate stress, and now the house was gonna be full of it. There was a knock on the door and I flung it open. 

'Susan, I won't change my fuckin' mind... Uh sorry, Candice, c'mon in. You want some coffee? Fresh two hours ago. I think I got a bagel left too.' She stared at me, then laughed.

'Jesus Christ, Doug, I've never been in this room without you offering me food or drink. You're like a den mother.'

'My mom raised me right,' I said. 'Whaddya need, Candice? I'm sorry I shouted when you came in. I been having a trying morning.' She nodded, her face serious.

'I heard the last part. In fact the whole house heard.' Her voice said I'd called it right.

'Yeah, well, it kinda got outa hand. I don't shout often, but when I do I tend to lose it.'

'Dam' good thing too,' said a voice from the doorway. 

'Shit, Rachel. What is this? Some kind of delegation?' She shook her head.

'Only thing I want to do is apologize. I was waiting for you to sweet talk her and you didn't. I'm sorry I thought that.' She turned and marched out, and I swung back to Candice. 

'You think you need to apologize for any fuckin' thing at all and I'll kick your beautiful ass up and down the street like a football. You got that?' She gave me a great big smile.

'I'm not here to apologize, Doug. I wanted to thank you. There aren't many guys who'd have said that to a cute little blonde they've been watching pretty attentively while she's sunbathing.' She was still smiling and I almost did the same.

'Busted. Were you checkin' out her or me when you spotted that?' She looked as if she was blushing, but it's hard to tell.

'That's not the point. If she goes you'll lose money too: that's what surprised Rachel. Come here.' She took a step towards me and stopped. She was a tall girl, and we were face to face. She grasped my ears, then leaned in and kissed me. A good one too, sliding the very tip of her tongue along my lips. Only a hint, but with a whisper of promise and I noticed that when she stepped back she was breathing a little quick.

'OK? Thank you Doug Taylor. I'm glad I live in your house, and I'm pleased you noticed my ass. Sharper than a new razor blade, huh? You smooth-talking devil, you.' She left, and I savored the taste of her lip gloss, faint in my mouth. Her head popped back round the door.

'And I'll try to keep the noise down. My, uh, friend got a little carried away.'

'So would I, Candice. Don't sweat it.' She poked her tongue out and disappeared again. I went to the window and looked out. One door closes, another opens. And Candice sure had a beautiful ass, and she sure walked with a spring in her step, just like that other one I useta know.

My senior year was kinda unfocused. Looking back now, I can see that breakin' up with Judy had changed something, made me harder maybe. If I worked hard enough for what I wanted the talent kicked in and I got it, but the way it happened sucked. Selfish is one thing, but callous is another. I didn't want to think about that, but it stayed in the back of my head. I guess I was finally coming to terms that I was gonna hafta be real selfish one day. Right now I didn't want anything much. I had a date with McCarthy for next year so I let myself go some. Shit, that felt so good: no gym, just enough work to keep scoring B's: slackers' paradise. I didn't go out much. Coupla girls threw me charity fucks, and I spent time with Annie, two or three times a month. Thank God for her: there when I wanted, never asked questions, made me laugh, kept me on my toes just enough. The perfect fuckin' woman, you think about it.

'You're getting kinda chubby, Doug,' she said one day. 'I mean you're no sack of potatoes but you for sure will be, you don't do somethin'. She was in the crook of my arm, relaxing, and reached over and grasped my extra roll.

'Six months ago I couldnta pinched an inch,' she said, 'and now look at you: Pillsbury dough boy's little brother. I'll tell ya something else too: your tongue's still five star, but I gotta say that the fuckin' main course is slipping.' She chuckled at my expression and wormed closer. 'Upside is that this is a lot more fuckin' comfortable than it useta be,' she murmured. 'Everything in life's a trade-off, I guess.' Comfortable trade-off? Made me sound like an air-bed in a garage sale. 

'You're cold, girl, except when you're hot. Get your ass up here and stay with the five star.' She grinned, climbed up my chest, and settled herself.

'Let the fuckin' good times roll.' 

I hafta say that since I'd persuaded her to tidy up a little, eating her was a better experience. Not that it was bad before, but it sure as hell tickled some. She wasn't convinced, kept playing around with the style every coupla weeks. Racing stripe one time, nothing the next, stubble trouble the next. Today she was cleaned right up except for an off-center diamond to the right of her slit. All this time and she could still fuckin' surprise me. I started working round her, aiming to tease her some as payback and she squirmed happily.

'Hey, Doug, don't play with me like that. I'm ready to go.'

'My way or the highway, Annie. Pillsbury dough boy's got a mind of his own.' I pursed my lips and gave her a Bronx cheer right over her clit, then relented. Truth to tell, she was so responsive that I never could resist her. I rolled my tongue over and round her and she bore down and started to move gently so I slid it in deep and aimed it at my nose, and she began her climb. I love the feeling of pleasing a woman, makin' her want more. I kept the pace down, coaxing and then retreating, tantalizing and then forgiving, and she wriggled and gasped and speeded up some, then finally tensed for a moment before her pussy began to flutter and her thighs tightened over my ears. When she was done she slid back and put her head on my chest. 

'Jesus, six stars, minimum.' I pushed her down some till her ass was nudging my cock, and she peered up at me. ' Four years we known each other, Doug, and going down on me still gets you hard. You sure know how to feed a woman's ego. Fuck the slippage. I'm gonna take care of that right now.' Hell, eatin' pussy makes me hard, period, but I didn't mention that right then. She sat up and reached between us, grasping me gently and guiding me into her body with the skill of practice. I felt a surge of something that was more than like and kicked it out of the way. Why ruin a perfectly good friendship? I pushed up, driving deeper into her, and she squinched her eyes up and started riding. 

I guess she'd needled me though, because I started putting in a little gym time, cut down on the ice-cream, told myself I needed to be in shape for when I went to see McCarthy, keep the fuckin' talent agile. I gotta say that our time together improved though. I upped the study time as well: no point in not preparing thoroughly. This could be my only chance at the jackpot, and if you gotta do somethin' you fuckin' hate, do it positive or not at all. Slackers think about the risk/reward ratio pretty carefully sometimes. I let myself dream some about being rich enough to choose my lifestyle.

When the ceremonies were over and I'd admired my sheepskin, she and I celebrated. Shit, I even used some of McCarthy's money and found a cheap package and took her away to Florida. Outa season isn't that bad if you don't mind sweating, and I wanted to disappear for a while. Didn't tell Annie that. It was the longest time we'd ever spent together and she was kinda touched, I guess, but tiresome. Said she was too fuckin' skinny for the hotel beach and refused point blank to go on it, so I hadta rent a car and go looking for privacy. 

'You mind if I ask you somethin', Doug?' she said. It was our last day and we'd found a cove that looked quiet; I'd bought lunch, and beer in a cooler, and we were both sticky with sunblock. She sounded kinda pensive. 

'Annie, you never asked permission for anything in your life. Why start now?' She rolled over and gave me a small kiss, her sandy body grating against mine.

'Well, you're through with college and all, but you ain't said a word about what you're gonna do, and I was kinda wondering if this was a goodbye trip. I mean if it is, then that's what it is, but I'd sorta like to know.'

'Shit, Annie, I'm staying right in town unless my plans go way south, and even if they do... hell, I don't wanna move on. I guess I shoulda mentioned it.' That went down real well. Her body relaxed and she reached over and gave me a sandy hug.

'You sure shoulda. I mean, I ain't been crying into my pillow but I'd kinda miss you. You wanna wash off and get naked?'

'Annie, this state has laws about that sorta thing in public.'

'Fuck the state. I got my needs.' She hopped up and hauled at my arm. For a skinny bundle of nothing she was pretty strong: no point in arguing with a flower child. 

When we got back I crossed my fingers and made the call. I'd spent a coupla hours a day in the hotel gym and read the financial crap in the paper every day. Shit, why do they print that stuff so dam' small? I reckoned I was as ready as I was gonna be.

'Douglas Taylor for Mr. McCarthy. I was...' She cut me off.

'Mr. McCarthy has been expecting your call, Mr. Taylor. I'll put you through now.'

He was real cordial and I was real polite and that afternoon I went down to his office, waited two minutes, and was shown in by the cutie secretary. He looked the same, except the plaid shirt was blue, not red. Eyes still hard as winter ice.

'Doug Taylor, at last. I was expecting you before this.' Click. OK, I light a candle tonight for sure.

'I had some pressing obligations Mr. McCarthy. Should I have been here the day after graduation?' He smiled a little.

'You ain't changed any.' His voice had slipped some. 'I've been watching you a little, Doug. You took an OK degree, less than you coulda managed, but OK. You been seeing the woman runs the hippy shop on the corner of Main and Third. You took her away someplace after graduation and as far as I can tell, you still got most of the money I gave you; one other thing, you haven't made a blind piece of effort to remind me what I said last year. There's a lotta guys your age woulda been walking past the office every week, smiling and waving.' Click..

'No need to walk past the office Mr. McCarthy. You gave me your word. And if you wanna know, the vacation with Annie, that was a true obligation. I had a kinda messy breakup last summer and she's been a good friend.' He nodded impatiently.

'Good enough. Well, you saved Terry's ass and she seems to have learned some from the experience. She's a fuckin' birdbrain, but she's my daughter and that earns you something. And you're slick, but you're still taking a risk, talking to me that way. I don't mind that and I got nothing says you're dishonest. You wanna work for me? Start September first. I'll pay you fair, give you a desk out front, show you what I do, we'll talk again at the end of the year. You need to think that over?' Click.

'Twenty-four hours? You want scut work, plus a steep learning curve, plus commitment I guess. Some things I like to chew on.' He looked almost approving and nodded again. Just then there was a knock at the door and the cute secretary put her head round.

'Mr. McCarthy? That darn program's blocked again.' McCarthy swore under his breath.

Better call the helpline, Kelly, and see what they say. Wipe the figures before you start talking.' She looked kinda nervous.

'I crashed the computer twice, but every time I open it again the data's there and the program's still blocked.' McCarthy looked at me and sighed.

'This is what happens, Doug.' Click. Jesus, what a click.

'This is a fancy projection spreadsheet, Q Alpha something, right?' His eyebrows went up. 

'I guess. Kelly?' Cutie nodded.

'I seen that program. It's good but it gets kinda confused sometimes. You're trying to do long-term projections, I guess.' McCarthy nodded.

'You sayin' you can fix it?' I shrugged.

'I can look at it. It'll mean seeing the figures though.' He looked at me keenly.

'Go ahead. Kelly, leave the door open.' I smiled at the cutie.

'Use your chair for a while, Ms Kelly?

I sat at her desk and mentally crossed my fingers. The older secretaries were looking at me kinda hostile and McCarthy was lounging in the doorway.

'Kelly, whyntcha go get us some refreshments? Doug?' I could feel his eyes on my back but I was thinkin' calculated risk and didn't look up.

'Coke, I guess. Beer and concentratin' don't mix too good.' He chuckled and went into his office. In five minutes Kelly was back, bouncing a little as she walked. I mean bouncing, front and back. Real good to look at. She put the coke down and I nodded my thanks. Didn't pick the cup up though. Focused Doug. She grabbed some papers from her desk and went to sit in one of the client chairs. I was half aware that she was glancing at me some.

Fixin' her problem took about eight minutes but it was forty before I stretched and stood up.

'It'll handle what you want now, Ms Kelly. Just don't try to go more than twenty-four quarters up the line. You want more than that, better to upgrade.' I realized McCarthy was in his doorway again and wondered how long he'd been there. In the office he looked at me quizzically.

'Can you do that with other stuff, son?' I shook my head.

'I'm no expert. I need to play with stuff before I understand it. Dumb luck I knew this one.' He raised his eyebrows.

'Nothing wrong with luck. Call me tomorrow when you've thought.' 

'I done some of that, Mr. McCarthy. September first you said?' He looked at me and smiled. Seemed like a genuine one.

'Wear a tie. I can get away with the folksy look, but you sure as hell can't. I'm the good ol' boy round here' He shook my hand and I left. Smart guy, probably made him think some. Day at a time. No worries about keeping the apartment though and I could maybe rent Gary's old room if anyone suitable crossed my path. And the fuckin' program was mine, before I even started day one. Click, click, clickety fuckin' click, I thought. You done me fuckin' proud today. I went and worked out that evening just to show gratitude.

When I told Annie I'd landed the job I was looking for she was so pleased she went and shaved everything and then blew me till my eyes watered. 

'Jeez, girl,' I said when I could breathe again. 'You been practicing while I wasn't looking?' She punched me lightly. 

'I ain't got the inclination to go practicing. You wanna rest up before you tackle Mount Baldy, or you good to go?' Hell, nothing stopped that girl. There are times I miss her real bad. 

First of September I showed up, looking pretty dam' spiffy. New sportscoat, pressed slacks, tasteful tie. When I got there, the only person about was Kelly.

'Hi, Ms Kelly. Am I expected or did I get the day wrong?' She smiled.

'Just Kelly, Doug, and you got the day right. You'd better keep using "Miss" with Molly and Amelia though. It took me three months before Molly let me use her name. They're quite suspicious of you. They think you're a frat boy who got lucky.' I shrugged.

'Lucky, yes; frat boy, no. Just a small town kid. Thanks, Kelly. Where is everyone? And if I have to say "Miss Molly" too much I'm gonna rupture something' She half smiled and looked at her watch.

'I usually have a coffee about now. I open the office, check the mail, see if there's any urgent phone messages, stuff like that, so I arrive around nine. Molly and Amelia arrive at nine-thirty. Mr. McCarthy's usually here by ten. Coffee machine's in back, by the bathroom. Would you like a cup?'

'Is the pope a Catholic?' She slipped the catch on the door, and we sipped lousy coffee and sized each other up. I don't know what she thought of me, but I was way impressed. Better than cute. She was late twenties, Playboy material, from her shoulder-length blonde hair to her elegant legs. Conservative blouse and gray skirt; the blouse didn't disguise what she had upstairs, and the skirt wasn't having much more luck with her ass. She was tall too, my height in her heels. Smooth, intelligent face, warm blue eyes, sorta smile that made you wish she'd do it more.

'About that stuff last year,' she said after a couple of minutes. 'Did you really persuade the police not to prosecute Terry?' I tried to look unfazed.

'I'm not sure that a DUI charge woulda stood up. Mr. McCarthy's probably got a pretty hot legal team, and the cops aren't usually too keen to write up stuff that might bounce back on them.' She'd been watching me intently.




Roomers Ch. 07



Old theme, new treatment, I hope. You need the earlier chapters or you'll get confused. (Best to start with number one, but that's just a personal view). Please remember to vote. I respond to non-anonymous feedback. Satyricon.

Just for a change, I wasn't staring outa my window. I was wondering how the hell I'd spent so much fuckin' money. The cost of fixin' the room Susan wrecked was plenty more than the goddam deposit, I was out four months rent and I'd dropped near fifteen hundred bucks getting even with her. I looked at the screen again, but the figures stayed ugly so I pushed the laptop away. Time for beer number one. As if by magic there was a knock.

'If you're good company, c'mon in.' Candice's head popped round.

'The best,' she said, and smiled. She looked so good that I gave her one right back.

'The very fuckin' best. You wanna beer? It's way past noon.' She looked down at me and her smile widened.

'Yassuh, Massa Doug. I know where the fridge is. Two beers, right?' She came back with the necessaries and plumped down in the armchair opposite me.

'I need to talk about a couple of things if you've got a few minutes.' I hitched up straighter and put the beer on the coffee table.

'For you, Candice, the rest of my life. Whaddya need?'

'Uh, what happens in the summer? I've just realized that everyone's talking about leaving, and the contract you gave me runs to the end of this month. Do I have to start looking for somewhere?

'You're gonna be here all summer? I thought teachers got vacations.' She snorted.

'Teachers do, assistants don't. I'm gonna have to be a full time library rat this summer. What I want to do is carry on living here, and if I have to go someplace else I'll curse and swear and carry on, stamp my feet maybe.'

'Shit, Candice, if you can stand the smell of paint. Jose's gonna be decorating in between his regular work, and it'll be a kinda slow process. You'd hafta camp in one of the other rooms while he did yours. You serious 'bout wantin' to stay?' She stared.

'Of course I am. You want me to leave?'

'Hell, girl, no fuckin' way. I'm happy if you are. Make the figures look better too. Last coupla months there's a hole in the accounts.' Her eyes dropped.

'I feel sorta bad about that.' Gaah. 

'Water under the fuckin' bridge, Candice, and worth every cent.' It was hard saying that, but it made her look happier. 'Rachel tell you that little Miss Dykehater's transferred?' She nodded.

'She told me, and I'm kinda glad. OK, that's really great, so thank you, but there's one more thing.' She looked kinda embarrassed. 'You held me while I cried, and you made me feel safe, like a little girl being comforted, and you never came even close to copping a feel, and you've not said anything to me or to anyone else. It's like it never happened. The next day was just "Hi Candice, howya feeling, you wanna coffee?", and that was it. And I'm kinda curious. Most guys would have followed up, dyke or no dyke.' Faint click, outa nowhere. Way to go, Doug. Welcome to the summer.

'Candice, you needed holdin' for one night, not ongoing fuckin' therapy. As for talkin' about it to anyone else, Jesus Christ, girl, what the hell do you think I am?' She looked at me and her eyes glowed with somethin' that set my spine tingling. Her hair was out of its rows and was floating round her head like a dark halo. 

'Damned if I know,' she said finally. 'You're too laid-back and you swear way too much, and you don't give much of a damn about anything, but you're smart and you gotta capacity to surprise; I mean when something pushes your buttons you're different. I may have been upset that day, but I watched you when you saw what had happened, and it was pretty impressive.' Her eyes dropped for a second then she took a deep breath and looked up again. 'I told Ellen about what you did for me and she said that now I'd understand why she liked you. I know about your relationship with her, and I know she told you about her and me, and you've never even hinted, not once, that you know about us, and Ellen says you never mentioned that night to her.' Fuckin' girl-talk. It's like the goddam axis of drivel. 

'Shit, Candice, Ellen and I have a history, and we're friends I guess, with privileges, so if she says something about her personal life to me that's where it fuckin' stays. And I guess you and her are friends with privileges too, so you tell her stuff, and I bet you twenty bucks she hasn't repeated it. Not to me, that's for sure. Privilege goes with respect or everythin' goes south.' She thought about that some, and I drank beer and realized that the fuckin' summer was gonna turn out a sight more fun than I hoped. Day at a time. The smarter they are, the slower you go. Noble Doug. Just enough gym-time, just enough brainwork: result, first Ellen and now her. Susan out of the picture, but hell, two outa three is good for an erratic talent that I've learned to handle with care. 

'What if you and I were friends with privileges as well?' she asked. 'Would everyone be able to talk with everyone?'

'Jeez, Candice, what do I know? Local call, I guess. I never had a whole circle of friends with privileges. Sounds like a clusterfuck to me.' She stood up and came and leaned over me. She was wearing summer clothes, white like always, contrasting with her dark skin, and I could see the outline of her breasts through the thin material. No bra, not really necessary, but I never been a size fetishist. Shit I'd rather have Annie and her flea bites than a D cup bimbo every time; after the first, that is. Candice knelt down and put a hand each side of my face, like she had before, and kissed me. That wasn't like before though: it was the whole fuckin' ball of wax with whistles and bells. She straightened up.

'Friendship part's there already, far as I'm concerned. We'll see about the rest.' She went before I could answer but I heard her humming as she went upstairs. I got up and went to my place in the window, real glad that I didn't want anything bad enough to risk hurting her.

Course, the first thing hadta happen after that night with Kelly was to get her the hell out of the apartment. Trustworthy Doug is one thing, live-in sex toy is another. Way too tiring. That weekend I sat her down in her armchair and gave her a scotch.

'Kelly, what you said the other day was right. It's time to move out. We wanna practice bein' friends with privileges you gotta have a home base. Livin' together is way too risky. I know you done it before, but I never tried, never even thought about it, tell the truth, and I'm not an impetuous guy.' She came sat on the couch, gave me a kiss.

'You're wise beyond your years, Doug.' I managed not to smile and she went on. 'I'm going to find an apartment and we can work at this together. Will you help me choose a car?' Didn't like the way she used the words 'work' and 'together'.

'What kinda car you got in mind?' She thought for a minute.

'I've always wanted a red one.'

Gee, that narrows the field down some.'

Shit, I was glad to have her outa the place, tell the truth. I never been one for waking up with the same person day after day. She was a real surprise though. Look at her, and you'd say nice girl, poised, cultured, way upscale, but after dark, hell, the change was one hundred eighty fuckin' degrees. I mean, she liked to warm up some beforehand, romantic kissy-face and stuff, but second time round she was wetter than Seattle in winter and dirtier than a bucket of dogshit. Only woman I ever met who genuinely liked it in the ass, suggested it even, though if you mentioned it to her before or after she'd blush and change the subject. Not that we did that too much. Screwin' about with lubricant and stuff, all those preparations, always seems kinda contrived to me. Still, I was like a kid in a toyshop for a while, explorin' her and all. The best part about fresh pussy is the findin' out. For a while there I almost wished she hadn't moved; didn't much enjoy payin' all the rent myself either.

Annie knew straight away. Jeez, considering how much grass that woman used she was real sharp. Coupla weeks later I was lying on her bed, her nestled in the crook of my arm, the way she liked, when she reached down and tugged my cock.

'Workin' out a little more with this, ain't you Doug?' No point in trying to bullshit her, and besides, I didn't really want to. I sometimes wonder what I'da done if she ever got in the way of something the talent was workin' on. That woulda been a for sure difficult call.

'Hell, Annie, how d'ya do it?' She yanked my dick again.

'How long we known each other, Doug? I like you a lot, too much maybe, and you like me some too, but I ain't ever gonna stand in the way of something you want. Rather stand in front of a fuckin' bulldozer. That poor girl works with you, you got somethin' going on in your head, you're someplace where there's a helluva lot of money flyin' about, you're goin' to the gym real regular, and you only do that when you want something bad, and now you're screwin' her ass off: Shit, I feel kinda sorry for her, tell the truth. She seemed pretty nice that time I visited. Gonna be good to come round to your apartment again though: nothin' wrong with a change of scenery.' She stretched against me and wriggled. 'You gonna lie there looking like a goddam codfish or are we gonna fuck?' Shit, no contest. She knew what I was and didn't care, and she fucked like a dream. I didn't mind her bein' just skin and bone either: hell, I kinda liked it by now. I scooped her up and set her on my chest, smelled the urgent scent rising from her.

'Top or bottom, you choose.' She laughed in that good way she had.

'You tryin' to turn my head?' 

One thing led to another and we managed both: one of the advantages of light girls. What she'd said made me think some though and if the live one hadn't crossed my desk that week I mighta thought again. McCarthy was right: smelling real money for the first time kinda focuses you. All the gym time and the brain time and the wanting were in synch and I was as sharp as I've ever been. Kinda frightening, looking back at it.

It looked good the minute I saw it. Fuckin' great click in my head. American Exchange, way undervalued, overextended, dumb but ambitious management, thrashing about some, trying to expand in all directions at once, hurtin' for capital that the banks weren't gonna come up with. I worked up the figures, gave them to Kelly.

'The parts alone are worth thirty percent over book-value. Kelly. Buy it, break it, sell it, count the cash.' She ran an eye over what I'd done and talked to McCarthy that afternoon. Came out with a sparkle in her eye that made my heart-rate turn up a notch. Kept my head down, got on with my chores. I hadn't been home ten minutes when she called.

'It's exactly the sort of thing Mr. McCarthy likes, and he loves being a white knight. He wants to...' I cut her off. Click.

'You want my famous spaghetti mess and some wine while you tell me? Hadta leave the office in a hurry so the old biddies didn't see me huggin' you.' 

'I'm going to shower first, just to save time.' The phone went dead and I smiled and went to fix the pasta. I had the table set up with candles and all by the time she arrived, wasn't surprised when she left half of it and stood up. She came round the table and kissed me hard enough for me to know that she was simmerin' already. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and the beginnings of a tan, and when she reached round and pulled the T-shirt over her head I blinked. No bra and pinky lookin' tits.

'You been sunbathin' topless, you shameless fuckin' Jezebel? She nodded and whipped the shorts down. Shit, no panties either; she did a twirl, then bent and pulled herself open, little ass-ring winkin' above a shiny swollen pussy.

'Bottomless too, and if you want me to tell you what Mr. McCarthy said you're going to have to give me your considered opinion on the tanning process first.' I stood up and grabbed her, twistin' her round and bending her over the table. Her sore breasts slipped over her half-finished plate and she squealed as the warm sauce spread over them, but I kept one hand on her neck while I pulled my sweats down with the other. Shit, I'd been hard since I served the fuckin' spaghetti, and I slid straight and fast and deep into her drippin' pussy. Her hands flew out and clawed at the cloth and I felt a stab of worry in case the glassware got damaged. Better not to mention that though, so I took hold of her hips and heaved in again. The sauce spread over the table-cloth as I got my rhythm, and as she began to respond and thrust back against me her breasts smeared the sticky mess around. She was completely ready and I could feel her beginning to tense, but a quickie wasn't the best move here. I kept it hard but slowed the tempo, the table shakin' every time I drove into her. 

'Now, please, right now...' she muttered, then yelped and thrashed about some as I reached under her and pinched one tomato covered nipple. I scooped some sauce up on my fingertips and smeared it over her asshole and the yelping turned into a guttural moan of pleasure as she tried to force herself back. There ain't much you can do though, not when you're bent over a table with your tits covered in spaghetti sauce and a pretty fit guy reaming you from behind, and I took no notice, kept right on pumpin', takin' her to the edge and no fuckin' further. The moaning turned to whimpering, and I pressed my thumb gently against her ring just to tip her a little. Shit, she came straight away, shaking under me like a plate of Jell-O, sauce everywhere as she tried to get more. I held her steady and when she'd quietened some I started again, feelin' kinda mean, but enjoyin' myself just the same. Same slow trip, same pressure building, and I managed to hold myself till she was bucking and squirming again. Then I gave her ass another load of spaghetti sauce and pushed my thumb into it hard, twisting and rolling it round as I buried my cock in her one last time, cum flooding outa me in a warm wave, mixin' with the sauce that had dribbled down her slit. 

I swear her feet left the floor as she came the second time, and if I hadn't had my thumb hooked in her ass she mighta escaped and scooted clear across the table. She was making noises like a locomotive and I held her firm and stayed rammed balls-deep inside her while she calmed. When she was still I lifted her, turning her round and holding her trembling body tight. That was another T-shirt gonna go to Goodwill, but small price to pay. I nuzzled her neck the way she liked and growled in her ear.   

'The ass is tanned real well, but the tits are kinda red. You want me to clean them off?' Her arms tightened round me and she nibbled at my shoulder so I eased my sweats off from round my ankles and carried her through to the bathroom. Shower fun is always good, and sure enough, I got a thank you BJ before we were through. There was a lot of huggin' and squeezin' and mumbling about how spontaneous I was, but I put up with that, and when we were stretched on the couch, her smooth body firm against mine, scotch on the table in front of us, I slid us back to the important stuff.

Hell, it sounded great. McCarthy was gonna take a position, build it, ride the shares up way carefully, makin' sure they didn't take off, express an interest to the dumb-ass management and then drop the hammer. 

'About a year to payback, Doug,' she said as she sipped scotch and stroked my cock with her free hand, 'and there'll be a nice bonus for you and me both. There's a hell of a lot of money in there waiting to be harvested, twenty million net maybe if it goes right. How did you spot it? Mr. McCarthy was impressed with that.' I shrugged and concentrated on her sore tits for a while, and it was a while before the conversation got coherent again. Then while she was panting and recovering I found out that she was gonna be the one handling the day to day stock purchase and controlling the rate. A step up for her too, and she was real excited about it and it was all thanks to me. Bingo. The extra extra stuff I'd slipped into her program was finally gonna be useful. Clicks work in a mysterious way and they don't give a rat's ass for anyone except me.

Shit, I hafta say that remembering that time is kinda sweet and sour. Sweet for the excitement of making money, sweet for Kelly givin' me everything she could think of, sweet for the time I spent with Annie relaxin' and enjoying no questions and no strings screwing. Sour for the knowledge that I was usin' Kelly, sour for the tension that she'd suspect something before it was ready, sour for the amount of fuckin' gym time and brain-bending I hadta to do, sour knowin' that the hurt was gonna arrive. Sour didn't do anything to change my mind though, and the sweet was pretty goddam sweet.

The trigger in her program fed me the trades she was planning and it was easy to open a brokerage account and shadow them. I used what was left of McCarthy's thank you money, took it easy, never made like a big player, but I was able to buy when it slipped and sell on the bounce, and by Christmas I'd turned six thousand into sixty and was still going. Cautious Doug. Hell, I was still learning, but tailgatin's an easy skill.

I got a little bolder in the spring, upped the volume I was trading, and the sixty was nearly half a million when I pulled out and moved the money into government paper, closed my account. Here's a word of advice. Never hang in for the last cent. Eighty percent of a sure deal is always better than getting burned going for everything. Ask them dot com boys: a little less greed and a tad more bailin' out woulda saved their sad asses. I knew she'd reached the point where McCarthy was gonna hafta make his next move soon. Hell, he was happy. Her buyin' and sellin' and then buyin' back meant he had thirty million dollars worth of stock and it had cost him less than half that. I stayed bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, anxious to learn.

Annie knew somethin' was happening. Hippies gotta strong sense of self-interest, I guess.

'Ya know what I like best?' she said one day. She was curled in the crook of my arm like always. 

'Tell me what you like best,' I said lazily. I was playing with her nipples, circling them with my fingers and they were reacting real positive.

'What I like best is when stuff's goin' good for you. Hell, you're always fun, but when you're feeling good, you're way fun. Last few months have been fuckin' ace, Doug. Promise you'll warn me when it's gonna stop. There's a tiny part of you that ain't selfish, stops you bein' a real bastard, and I don't want you ta feel that I won't be here when you hurt a bit. Hell, you heal quick enough, but a gal likes ta be needed.' I rolled over and pinned her, then slipped gently into her as she raised her legs and hips to meet me. She sighed happily and bit my neck hard as my cock stretched her.

'I'll take that as a yes, huh?'

Kelly was a different story. She was happy as a clam, excited 'bout what she was doing, plannin' how to spend her bonus. Trouble was she kept calling it "our bonus". Be careful when a woman starts saying that. It means there's all sorts of stuff goin' through her head, and none of it likely to make you feel good. She was getting kinda possessive too. Hell, not her fault I guess: she was the sorta person who likes the idea of bein' settled, bein' a couple, kinda like Judy was. I tried to slow her down some.


It was a Sunday afternoon in May and we were at her place. We'd been hot and energetic and dirty, and were laying on top of the covers letting the sweat dry on us. She tightened her arms round my neck and pressed herself against me.

'Confession time, Doug. I think I'm falling in love with you. From the moment you took over and helped me get over Carl actually. No-one's ever cared about me that way, and no-one's ever made love to me like you do, and I've never felt this way about anyone.' Well, fuck that.




Roomers Ch. 08



Old theme, new treatment, I hope. You need the earlier chapters or you'll get confused. (Best to start with number one, but that's just a personal view). Please remember to vote. I respond to non-anonymous feedback. Satyricon.

To those of you who've been following Doug's confessions: this is the last chapter. He's charming, but not a very nice guy, (I mean, would you want him to marry your sister?), and I can't go any further with him. Thanks to all of you who've commented, either publicly, or directly to me, and especially to sgnatz, militarymec, and Anonymous in New Zealand, who pointed out the inconsistencies in the narrative voice and made me think some. It's readers like you that make writing worthwhile. 

*

My bay window was dam' near uninhabitable. In fact my whole apartment smelt of paint and floor varnish, so I'd moved upstairs while Jose finished up. The weather was fuckin' ace and I slung a hammock between two trees and was swaying gently, beer in one hand, small joint in the other, a book on my chest in case I got bored doin' nothing, the whole afternoon ahead of me. Slacker's heaven.

The joint was a memory and the beer was way too warm when I heard footsteps. A slim dark hand appeared with a cold bottle dangling from its fingers. I twisted my head and squinted up at her.

'Shit, girl, you do that one more time and I'll have to marry you.' I grasped the bottle and put half of it where it belonged while she smiled down at me.

'No need to get emotional,' she said. 'My ancestors were house slaves. But I never seen a man enjoy food and drink like you do. How come you don't weigh three hundred pounds and grunt when you walk?' I shrugged.

'I do some gym time, cut down on the beer a little when the mirror gets too small. How come you're the way you are? I seen you put away food like you wanted to start a famine and there ain't an extra ounce on you, except where it's meant to be.' She looked at me sideways, then pulled my old lounger round and sank onto it.

'Been checkin', have you?' Her voice was smooth and slightly husky, like good liquor over ice.

'Candice, I check you every fuckin' time I see you and it just gets better. How come you ain't studying? You goofin' off?' She smiled cheerfully.

'Right first time. Five days a week is enough and the weekend's here. Thought I'd catch a little sun if I'm not disturbing you.'

'Shit, that's for sure gilding the fuckin' lily. You get any more sun you're gonna be dam' near invisible at night.' She stared and then started giggling.

'You telling me to lighten up?' That got me laughin' too and I dam' near fell out of the hammock. She wiped her eyes and tried to sound serious. 'There are some very correct people in this town who'd arrest you for saying what you just did.' I finished my beer.

'Fuck 'em. Friends can say what they like. You work on your tan, Candice. I'm just thinkin', and readin' some, and wonderin' when the hell Jose's gonna finish.' She closed her eyes, her fingers fiddling with the gold chain she always wore.

'I've talked to him. Asked him why he was doing two jobs and he told me what you did for him and his sister and her kids.' 

'Well, shit. Now I gotta deal with ethnic fuckin' gossip. Jose's too scared of Maria to refuse to help. You gonna sunbathe or what?' She nodded absently.

'I had a bet with myself you wouldn't talk about it. Is this yard overlooked at all?' 

'Trees are old and tall. One reason I bought the house.' She stood up gracefully and began to unbutton the white shirtwaister that was her usual summer outfit. She had a dozen, all different, and I'd kinda been having fun guessin' which one she was gonna wear next. She was bein' real careful not to look at me and her fingers were havin' a little trouble with the buttons, but she persevered and slipped out of the dress sorta nervously. She lay down on the lounger, naked except for her panties. I was havin' a real problem not leaping out of the hammock and barking. Controlled myself though. She'd been pussyfootin' about the past three weeks. No point in pushin' her now she was getting' serious. Never push the smart ones or they get real skittish. 

'Better not be telling me you need sun cream,' I said, 'and I don't see any tan lines either. Kinda suspicious.' I was havin' fun. No stress, no clicks, no nothin': just takin' it easy with a beautiful girl I was gonna go to bed with one day soon. Pure heaven. I rolled over and looked down at her. Hell, she was the one that had undressed. Her body was lean and toned, small pointy breasts sitting high on her chest, capped with jet black nipples, fat and puffy; long legs flaring from narrow hips, the fork of her body outlined by the thin material of her panties. She watched me looking at her and I gave her a thumbs-up. 

'Excellent package, Candice. You want another beer?' I swung outa the hammock and went to fetch them. When I came back she looked to have relaxed some and reached out and pulled at my wrist as I put the beer down

'Are you alright with this, Doug? I'm not teasing deliberately. I mean, you're being pretty calm about it...' Women always dick about some, but the wait is generally worth it.

'Shit, Candice, define "great". I'm calm. I mean I ain't exactly resting comfortable, but that's my problem. Three things: one, you know I'm a volunteer regiment; Ellen told you that. Two, you're the one at the wheel and one driver's plenty. I might lose a little weight, sleep badly, get the shakes mebbe, while you make your mind up, but I'll kinda leave that to your conscience. And three, try to think of me as a lesbian trapped in a man's body. That might relax you some. I'm gonna take a siesta. Three beers sorta provoke a nap, this weather.' I turned to get back into the hammock and she jumped up and grabbed me, hugged me hard, her breasts pressing against my chest. She was struggling not to laugh.

'Trapped in a man's body? You are absolutely outrageous. You really don't mind what I am, do you?' I put my arms round her and kissed her good, and her mouth opened and her tongue slid hesitantly out to find mine, her arms tightening round my neck. After a minute I pulled back; hardest fuckin' thing I've done for a long time.

'Who you are, not what you fuckin' are. Shit, Candice, forget the goddam labels and plan on being taken out to eat tonight. My kitchen stinks and yours is unworkable. Jose's got all the fuckin' furniture from Nick's room piled in it.' I didn't say I'd suggested he do that. 'You feel right about it we'll try some more of that after.' Doug, dominant but kind, not pushin' any. I'm a fuckin' saint sometimes. She was breathin' kinda fast and her eyes were sparkling.

'Whatever you say, boss. Will I need to dress up?'

'Nudity ain't acceptable in this town. No leather though, OK?' She rolled her eyes.

'No leather. Right.' She lay down again and I tried to get into the hammock without catching the end of my cock in the mesh. If she didn't put out tonight I was gonna go fuckin' crazy. When I glanced over at her she was lying, eyes closed, legs parted a little, one hand on her mound, her fingers moving real slow. Way to go, Candice. I hoped she was thinkin' of me and not Ellen.

When I got settled I finished the beer and dropped the bottle on the grass and closed my eyes. The smell of paint and the fainter scent of Candice's perfume tickled my nose, and the sun was warm on my body. Like the first summer I bought the house.

Shit, lookin' back I can see that McCarthy's death and Kelly splittin' shook me up some. Only time in my life I been paranoid. Hell, I had reason. I kept kinda thinkin' that someone would find out about why McCarthy had crashed, or that Kelly would come back and start carryin' on again, or the fuckin' IRS would come askin' where I got the money from. I guess that if it hadn't been for Annie I mighta cut and run. 

'You gonna tell me what's buggin' you?' she asked me one day. We were at my apartment, her stoned on her ass and me not far behind. She was stretched out with her head on my belly, nuzzling my cock occasionally and tryin' not to be impatient. I thought about what she'd said.

'You really wanna know?' She bit me gently.

'You ain't gonna shock me Doug. We're more alike than you think. Probably why I'm crazy about you. Tell me the bones so I stop worrying.'

'Shit, Annie, you put it like that. I kinda got Kelly's confidence so I could make a bunch of money for myself, and she found out and was real angry and told McCarthy, and McCarthy was on his way into town to ream my ass when he crashed. And she's split, like gone. So it was dumb fuckin' luck one way, result of what I did the other, and I'm caught between pleased and wonderin' if there's any shit waitin' to fall on me.' She thought about that.

'You won't let any fuckin' thing stand in your way, will you? To hell with her feelings, same as with that poor Judy. I swear I don't know how you can do it. Hell, Doug, six months and no shit hittin' you, I guess you're home clean. How much fuckin' money?' Straight to the heart of the matter. 

'McCarthy already gave me the bonus for the legitimate stuff I was doin', so it totaled out a little over a million. I ain't ever gonna work again, Annie. Only reason I did it, tell the truth.' When I said "million" she whipped round and stared.

'You shittin' me?' 

'Nope'. 

'Jesus, Doug, you're a fuckin' millionaire? You mean I been screwing megabucks and never fuckin' realized? Whaddya gonna do?'

'I been sittin' on it while I thought.' She snorted and grasped my cock.

'You can spend some on me or I'll pull this out by the fuckin' roots. I wanna go to Florida again, get away from winter.' I groaned, then realized that tellin' her had lightened the load some. A trouble shared is a trouble halved, my Mom used to say when she wanted me to 'fess up about somethin'.

'How come I get the only hippy in the country who don't despise money? You want to go to Florida you're gonna have to work for it. High season down there right now.' She scooted round again and cupped my balls.

'Hippies only despise money because they fuckin' don't have any, and the work is gonna be a labor of like. For two weeks in Florida I'll blow you twice a day and some more at night.' Her head dipped and her lips began their teasin' dance over the head of my cock. I was kinda touched. It was her turn by rights, and she knew I'da done my party trick if she'd asked.

She was so excited and revved up that I let her have her way. Hell, I guess I owed her some anyway. She sent her dad off to some commune on the Pacific coast, packed her best hippy dresses, and closed the shop. I booked first class, just to show her I could, and we had fun upsettin' the rich snowbirds. Same fuckin' problem as before though: she wouldn't go on a public beach, so we hadta go lookin' for seclusion. 

I thought to rent a boat so we were able to find secluded. A week into the holiday I was layin' on white sand while she balanced on my cock, her dark eyes huge and bloodshot. Damned if I know how she managed, but first thing she'd done when we arrived was score some Jamaican grass and we were both kinda relaxed. She was gettin' a pretty good tan and it was sorta strange to see her body pinky-brown instead of white. One part of me was tense though and she didn't mind that. She exhaled happily and handed me the joint.

'Sun and sea and good grass and a fat cock to sit on. Everything a girl could wish for. You been thinkin' some Doug, I can tell. Whaddya gonna do with all that money? You for sure ain't gonna just spend it.' Girl was a goddam mindreader.

'You're a goddam mindreader, Annie. I guess I oughta have visible means of support, so I'm gonna buy a property near the campus, big one, rent rooms out to college kids. That'll cost, time I've converted the place and all, but it'll earn pretty good, pay its own way and then some. And I'll leave the rest with Uncle Sam, collect the interest. Read, sleep, stay in shape a little so you don't start bitchin' at me, take you away once in a while. That's as far as I got.' Her pussy tightened over my shaft and she went a little bit pinker.

'I was hopin' you'd say somethin' like that. You decided to leave town, I'da been kinda pissed for a while. You mind me bein' pleased?' Fool woman. Who minds anyone bein' pleased?

'Gonna make you help me, Annie. Choose the curtains, stuff like that. No fuckin' flower power stuff though. I wanna go for mature but cool.' She leaned forward and kissed me hard, grinding her fat clit against my pubic bone.

'Bet I can make you come before I do, Mr. Mature but fuckin' Cool.' Wrong again.

So I spent the next few months looking at properties and thinking about how they'd convert. Annie came with me a coupla times, but mostly she left it to me. Said she didn't want me blamin' her if I bought the wrong one. Funny thing though, once I started thinkin' again I re-upped my gym membership, worked out for an hour, two or three times a week. Still boring as hell, but it seemed like my body wanted it. 

The one I found was almost right. Outside was in good shape, needed some work inside, bathrooms and kitchen upgrading. Yard was good, pretty secluded, and a coupla plantings would make that completely. Half a mile from campus, quiet street. Price was a little high, and it was a little bigger than I'd planned, but it was the only one I'd seen that said hello to me, so I bought it quick, before I started wantin' it too bad. I moved in that June and spent the summer doin' nothin', just getting' the feel of the place. Next year was plenty soon enough for renters, and quick conversions cost way too much. Annie and I christened every dam' room in the place, and the yard too. We had a pretty nice time.

Something cold landed on my chest and I opened my eyes in a hurry. Candice was standin' over me laughin', another beer in her hand. She'd put her dress back on but it was still unbuttoned and her body peeped through. Her eyes flicked down to my crotch. Thinkin' of Annie had got me kinda hard. 

'You look cute when you're asleep,' she said, 'and you got something in your shorts.' She looked a little startled at her own daring and I gave her a silent cheer.

'I wasn't asleep and if I was I was dreamin' of you. That beer for me or you just goin' to go on teasing?' Subtle line. She grinned, white teeth bright against her dark face, lookin' like a woman who's finally made her mind up.

'All for you, and no more teasing, I promise.' Like I said, smart woman. She smiled again. 'If the privileges are as good as the friendship part I'd be a fool to turn them down. What time do you wanna eat?' What about right now? I didn't say that.

'When you're hungry, Candice. You mind if we go upscale, make an occasion of it?' I drank beer. 'What's the time?' I stopped wearing a watch when I bought the house. She looked at her wrist.

'Four. If we eat about six-thirty, that suit you?' I nodded. I was wonderin' whether to shave again or not. I mean, some like it smooth and some think twelve hours growth is kinda nice. Shave, I decided: unless she's been with any bearded ladies recently she's not used to stubble. 

'I'll call Casa Italiana, ask Tony for a booth: that good?' I like to do that sorta thing before the first time. Nothin' wrong with anticipation. She nodded, shy but determined.

'If we're going that far upscale I'm going to start getting ready now.'

'Don't go overboard. Jose's gonna be here by six and he's pretty susceptible.' She giggled and leaned over and gave me a peck on the lips, her breasts just brushin' my chest.

'You make me feel safe. Nervous, but safe, and kinda excited as well. Nice combo.' She straightened and went across the lawn to the house and I watched the dress floating behind her and thought dirty thoughts.

When Maria had knocked I was havin' dirty thoughts too. In fact Annie had started havin' them and I'd kinda joined in, and the dirty thoughts had led to dirty bodies and the dirty bodies had segued into more dirty thoughts in the shower. I was planning rounds three and four as I opened the door and wasn't prepared for a little Mexican lady with a strained expression. Turned out she was a widow, wanted cleanin' work, had a brother wanted yard work, any kinda work, usual stuff. Outside the house was a cruddy looking Valiant with a guy in the drivers' seat and two little kids in back, surrounded by bundles. I guess it was the Valiant that made me ask the question.

'Where you livin' ma'am? I might have some cleanin' work soon.' She didn't answer, and her eyes darted round helplessly. Annie had joined me and was lookin' at the Valiant too.

'Shit, Doug, she's livin' in the fuckin' car with two kids. That's right, lady, ain't it?'

Once that was established I let Annie talk to her while I thought; then I went to fetch a calculator and did some figuring. No doubt about it. If I could put up with the kids I'd save a fuckin' bundle. The woman was lookin' at me, wonderin' what the hell I was doin' and would it be bad for her. Annie was lookin' at me too, a sardonic smile on her face, like she could read my mind. Well, fuck her: two birds with one stone.

'I'm Doug Taylor, ma'am. What's your name?' Maria, it turned out.

'OK, Maria, I'll make you an offer. You all come live here. You and your brother work on the house, paintin' and stuff, sort out the yard. Get the kids in school so they're outa the way. I'll cover food and bills and give you five hundred a month.' Beans and rice were cheap, I reckoned. 'Job's gonna last till Spring. You save some, you'll be able to get an apartment, move outa the fuckin' car.'

Well shit, she was suspicious, and so was her brother; don't blame 'em for that, but it was a better deal than anyone else was offerin' and the car smelt real bad, so Annie showed them the house, admired the kids, domestic shit, and they finally said they'd do it for a month, see what happened. Annie made me pay them half the month up front so they could get basics. 

It worked out pretty good. I gave 'em the third floor, let them settle down for a coupla days, then cracked the whip. Jose couldn't do the complex stuff, I still hadta get fuckin' electricians and plumbers and stuff for that, but he was hell on wheels with plaster and paint, floors too, and after the first week Maria was gonna do anythin' she was told. They loved goddam plants too, and the yard started to look real nice. It's in the genes, I guess. Kids were pretty well-behaved, almost cute. Annie was in and out like a fuckin' yo-yo, looking at paint colors and fabric samples, tried to keep showing me fuckin' furniture catalogs. I kicked back until my new front room was done, then I went kinda mad, had one entire wall covered with fitted bookshelves, and set about filling them. 

That time was about as domestic as I've ever been, and parts of it were real fun. Meals round the big table, kids playin' in the yard at weekends, knowin' I was saving money and bein' a boy scout at the same time. Tired me some though, and I was gettin' sick of the smell of Mexican food, so I was kinda glad when Jose found a proper job around Christmas. Even stuck my neck out and gave him a written reference, dam' good one too. They moved out soon after that, but Maria had decided I was God's younger son, so poor ol' Jose kept comin' round evenings to finish up the jobs and Maria kept comin' round to keep an eye on him and clean. Annie shamed me into payin' them by the hour, but that was still cheap as shit and I wasn't in a hurry.

'You wanna practice this kinda stuff a bit more,' she said one evening. 'You manage to combine bein' real selfish with bein' a real human person too, the results are fuckin' ace.' We were walking round the house admirin' it. It sure looked good. Everything clean, rooms furnished cheap but tasteful, new bathrooms shining. Inspectors had passed it fit for renters and I was feeling pretty proud. My apartment on the first floor was exactly the way I wanted. Even the height of the mirrors in the bathroom was right. Come in under budget too. Workin' with McCarthy taught me how to cost stuff.