Chapters 27 - 31 *** Marjorie

27

...No, I would not give you false hope on this strange and mournful day... Mother And Child Reunion    (Paul Simon)

Monday and Tuesday slipped by way too fast. I drove Rose to school each morning and picked her up each afternoon. In between, while tending to things around the complex, I had plenty of time to relive our encounters of the weekend. Marjorie's absence had been a mixed blessing. On the one hand, having unlimited access to Rose had given me the most beautiful few days of my life; time that I wouldn't have traded for anything, and would have fought like grim death to hold onto. On the other hand, I knew I wanted (needed?) to have that time and that space with Rose on an ongoing basis. I had to find a way to make it work, had to find a way for us to be together the same way we had during Marjorie's absence. Exactly how I was going to make that happen was, at present, beyond me, and that lack was torturing me.

Wednesday morning, as I pulled up in front of the school, Rose turned to me with a wistful look.

"Mom's coming home tonight, and I don't know how to feel about that," she said sadly. "I love her, and I'm glad she'll be back, but I don't know if I can go back to sleeping alone. Having you in bed next to me, all night long, is the safest, happiest, most delicious thing I can think of. Well," and her sad look briefly gave way to one of her impish grins, "maybe the second most," and she caressed the inside of my thigh. Then, "It's going to be harder than Hell to give that up."

"I know exactly how you feel, love," I agreed, "because I feel the same way. What are we going to do about it?"

"I don't know, Jack, I just don't know. Damn it, I don't KNOW!"

"Well, let's just play it by ear for now. Maybe the universe will present something, or maybe we'll see an opportunity somewhere. Or maybe this is a test, to see if we can survive."

"I don't want a test! I want you!" she snuffled, throwing her arms around me and squeezing tight, as if she were sensing me slipping away.

"Hey, hey, none of that, now. I'm not going anywhere, Rose. We'll get by, you'll see. People adapt. We're no different. The only thing you need to keep in mind is that I love you more than life itself, and the rest will flow from that."

She wiped her eyes and managed a weak smile. "You always know what to say. I think I'll be able to get through the day, at least, if I just hang onto that thought." She gave me a soulful kiss, and as she exited the car and walked up the steps and into the school, I felt my heart threatening to tear itself loose from my chest and follow her in.

Dinner that evening was a low-key, subdued affair. We cobbled together a meal from leftovers and ate mostly in silence. Marjorie's flight was scheduled to arrive at 9:35 that evening, and the knowledge hung over us like an angel with a flaming sword, barring our way back into the garden. We tried to watch TV, but it was no use. Finally, at 7:00, Rose and I turned to each other and, without a word spoken, we got up and drove to the airport to wait. As we sat there in the lounge, sipping cappucinos and watching CNN on the wall TV, we held each other's hand and drew some comfort from that simple act. Time seemed to fold up on us like a telescope, and before we were ready, Marjorie's flight had arrived. At the sight of her mother walking up the ramp with a beatific smile on her face, Rose's mood visibly lightened, and they rushed into each other's arms for a timeless embrace that made me start to tear up myself. Marjorie looked up at me, and before I knew what was happening, I found myself included in their embrace, the three of us with our arms around each other. Marjorie smelled so good, and she clung so tight, and Rose did too, that I hardly knew where I was or what I was doing.

After we reclaimed the luggage, we made our way to the car; Rose and Marjorie holding hands and me following along, carrying the bags and trying to feel happy for them. After I loaded the suitcases in the trunk, I turned to hand the keys to Marjorie, but she just smiled and pressed them back into my hand, telling me I might as well finish out the day. Rose climbed into the front and sat in the middle so she could be between the two of us, and on the drive home, Marjorie recounted some of her experiences in the class and what it was like to be a tourist in Atlanta. All too soon, we were home, and after I carried the bags up to the apartment and deposited them in the living room, Marjorie dug through her suitcase to produce some gifts. For me she had brought back an Atlanta Braves koozie and a bottle of peach schnapps, and Rose was gifted with a stuffed plush peach and a snowglobe containing a miniature Atlanta skyline that showered tiny peaches (instead of snowflakes). For herself, she had only a glass in the cylindrical shape of the Westin Peachtree, a keepsake of the rum and coke she had ordered during her visit to the Sun Dial restaurant on the top of the Westin.

It was close to 11:00 by this time, and as I turned to leave, Marjorie reached out and pulled me into a bear hug. "Thank you, thank you, Brent," she whispered, "I knew I could count on you to be there for us. I hope someday I can repay you for all you've done."

"Don't, Marjorie, don't," I whispered back, "it was no sacrifice, staying with Rose was like a dream. It was nothing but pleasure, please believe me."

She pulled back and gazed at me with a strange expression, and my heart suddenly pounded as if it were trying to warn me of something; but all she said was, "I must have done something right, to have you in our lives. Thank you, Brent, just... just... thank you," and she was starting to mist up. I dared to give her a kiss on the cheek as I was leaving, and then I was out the door, Rose at my side as she walked me back to my room, her hand squeezing mine as if to say, 'I know you're still here, but it feels like I'm losing you anyway'. Behind the safety of my locked door, we exchanged a long, sensual kiss, and as she left, I whispered to her, "I'll see you in a little bit, sweetheart, as soon as I fall asleep and start dreaming," and she smiled a brave smile and whispered back, "Me too. G'night, Jack, I love you."

28

...we all need someone we can cream on, and if you want to, you can cream on me... Let It Bleed    (The Rolling Stones)

Somehow, we managed to recapture our rhythms. With Marjorie back and Rose returned to her role as a kid in school, our old patterns were a comfort, a source of familiarity that eased us up out of the valley of despair. We were back to our nightly routines and once-a-week dinners at their apartment. The coolness of approaching autumn was pushed back for a bit as Indian summer graced us with a last gift heavy warmth. The days pushed, amazingly, to 85 degrees, and the nights were beyond mild, approaching sultry. It was almost as if Mother Nature wanted to let us know that even though the long dark of winter was ahead, She was still watching over us, caring for us and wanting us to experience joy.

The meet and greet for November was a little livelier than usual. Four new tenants showed up, and Marjorie was right in the thick of it when she learned one of them had been raised in Buckhead, an upscale Atlanta neighborhood that had been her favorite part of the city. I don't know whether it was that chance meeting, or simply a little extra enthusiasm on her part, but Marjorie knocked back a couple more drinks than was her usual wont that evening. She wasn't slobbering drunk, but she seemed to need a little help with simple tasks like sitting. As the evening drew to a close, I found myself sitting at the folding table that had held pizza and chips, but now hosted only empty pizza boxes and chip bags, with Marjorie sitting next to me, sucking back the last of her most recent drink. She was rubbing her eyes, as if they bothered her, or as if she was trying to get something out of them that she didn't want there; tears, maybe, or unwanted memories. The room had emptied now, everyone having gone back to their apartments, and Marjorie swayed into me, then straightened herself out and set her glass down. In the back of my head, I was aware of the sound of Rose playing Donkey Kong, but in the front, all I could see was how impaired her mother was.

"Wanna tellya sumpthin," Marjorie said in the most heavily slurred voice I'd heard from her yet . As her right hand slipped out of sight, her left hand collapsed onto the table and knocked over her glass. Since she had already drained it, the only damage was a couple of ice cubes skittering across the checkered tablecloth and bouncing away on the floor. With her right hand on my thigh, she squeezed earnestly, and I knew there was nothing overtly sexual in it, she was just trying to make sure she had my undivided attention and was using the most direct way she could think of at the moment to get it. I left the hand in place and waited her out. The pause drew out a few more seconds, then a few more, while Marjorie tried to marshall her thoughts. When she recollected herself, she started over, "Wanna tell ya sumpthin," along with a repeat of the thigh squeeze. "Th' reason I walked out on Stan was cuz my boss was movin' in on me, he was allays all over me, like, wenever we wuz alone, he just, he just look' so good, and he smell' so good, and he was so confident, like the world owed him, not th' other way aroun', y'know? Not like Stan at all, Stan was s'damn laidback, just laidback an' let people walk all over him. Let 'em..." she paused as the words choked in her throat. "Let me. Let me walk all over him. Let me treat him like garbage." The tears were on their way, I could see that from a million miles off. Still she squeezed and massaged my thigh, and somewhere between her hand and her heart, it must have been transmuted into Stan's thigh for her, because she just kept kneading and massaging as if she were trying to love away some ancient injury that had never been tended properly. "Let me screw aroun', and he never stood up for himself, never got mad 'bout me screwin' my boss, just kep' tryin' to talk it out, talk it away. An' when I made him stop touchin' me, he never quit tryin', no matter how mad I got, he jus' kep' tryin' an' tryin' to hold me in his arms." The tears were coming in earnest now, one after another, rolling down and off her face to make tiny splatters on the tablecloth. "An', an' I wouldn' let him hold me, I told him I had a real man now, I didn' need him, an' I made him go. I made him pack his bags and get out. An' after Stan was gone, an' I was ready to move in with my boss, he dumped me. The sumbitch just dumped me on my ass. I made excuses, I told m'self it was my fault, I scared him cuz I had Rose, but inside, I knew the real reason, on'y I couldn't admit it to myself. The bassard just didn't care. He had better ass to chase, I guess." Both hands were on my thigh now, rolling and moving through the flesh that I knew for her could only be Stan's. "An', an' I was too scared, an' angry, an' ashamed of what I done to Stan. I couldn' go back to him, not after what I done, not after what I told him, I couldn' face him. I was still confused, I didn' think I needed him. So I ran, tryin' to get away from what I done. An' I was doin' the same dam' thing all over again, not thinkin' it through, just pullin' poor little Rose with me through my own private hell." Marjorie leaned into me, laying her head on my shoulder, and still she kept massaging. My leg was starting to feel pretty loose, and I wondered if it would be possible to move her hands to the other leg without breaking the mood or her frame of mind. "Stan, I'm, I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry, oh God, Stan, why did, why did ya have to go and d-d-d-die before I could tell you? Dammit, Stan, come back! Pleeease come back, I promise I'll be good, I swear, on'y please don't go!" She was wracked with heaving sobs now, borne away on a tidal flow of guilt. Her need was so great I couldn't ignore it. As I wrapped my arms around her and laid a hand on her hair, I looked up to see Rose standing silently in the doorway, gazing at the pair of us with her head tilted to one side and tears standing in her huge eyes. Marjorie heaved several more great shuddering convulsions before coming to herself and looking up into my eyes. Slowly, she released my thigh as she focused on my face and seemed to come to recognition of where she was and what she was doing.

"Brent? Brent, 'm sorry to lay all this on you," she rubbed at her eyes to dry them. "You been so good for my Rose. 'afore we came here, I was gettin' scared of what all our movin' was doin' to her. Was like watchin' her die a little bit more ever' day. 'Til she found you. You been her anchor, you been the on'y good thing in her life for a long time." Marjorie took a glance at my arms around her, then responded by wrapping her arms around me and hugging tight. "Which makes you the on'y good thing in my life, too, 'cause without Rose I got nothin'. I done too many wrong things, I fucked up too many times. I need help, Brent, I can't do it myself, I can't fix anything, all I know how to do is fuck things up. So here I am, if you want me, you c'n have me, I still got a few good fucks in me, I'll suck on it ever' day, I promise, on'y please say you'll stay with us. We need you." She leaned in close and started to kiss my neck while rubbing my chest; but that only lasted for a handful of seconds, before the tears started falling again. "Oh God, please love me, please love me Brent, you c'n love me like the way you love Rose, can't ya?" I felt my heart skip several handfuls of beats at one shot; my face suddenly felt like ice. I looked around to see Rose's reaction, but she was gone. Nobody else was around. As gently as I could, I scooped Marjorie up in my arms and carried her out of the shadow-haunted clubhouse, into the surprisingly warm Indian Summer night, across the courtyard and up the stairs of her building. The door to her apartment was standing open; inside, Rose was sitting on the floor in the corner with her legs tucked up underneath; her face was dry, but it was obvious she'd been crying hard. I laid Marjorie gently on the couch, and before I could wonder what to do next, I heard her snoring softly.

"She's out for the night," Rose said quietly from beside me; I hadn't even seen her stand up or walk over. A second later the front door clicked shut, completing the arc Rose had started when she pushed it. "She won't wake up until morning." Taking my hand, she led me to Marjorie's bedroom, sat on the unmade bed, and patted the mattress next to her. I sat down beside her. In the dark bedroom, I could just barely make out her silhouette. She took my hand and placed it on the side of her face, kissing the palm briefly. "Jack, do you want to... to fuc... do you want to make love to my mom?"

I was startled and scared, touched and saddened, all at once. "No, angel, I really don't. You're all I need, you're the only woman I want. Cross my heart," and I crossed my heart as I said it.

"Jack, I love you so much, I don't want to share you, but I have to think about my mom, too. She's so alone, in a really serious way, she's as alone as we were before we found each other. Jack, do you think you could...? I mean, would you be willing to... Jack, would you have sex with my mom? Please? For her? I think she needs it so bad, she's hurting so much, I want her to have this, I really do."

"Rose, I can't. I don't want to do anything that will make you wonder about me, or worry about whether I love you. If I have sex with your mom, you'll always wonder what it meant to me, you'll worry about whether I love you as much as I did before..."

"No I won't, Jack, I promise, I swear to you, I know you love me, I can feel it in your touch, I can hear it in your voice." As she said this, she started to unbutton my shirt. "You'll always be in my heart, and I know I'll always be in yours. Nobody can ever take that away from us. But I have my mom in my heart too, and I have to think about what she needs." She slipped off my shirt, pushed gently on my chest until I laid back on the bed, and started to undo my pants. "I know you won't hurt me, Jack, you can't. You said you trust my instincts. Remember?" She pulled off my pants and underwear in one smooth motion, then turned to drop them on the floor. "Well, that's what I want you to do now. Please just trust me and believe me." In what seemed like one fluid motion, she removed all of her clothes, then stood naked before me as I lay back on the bed. My erection seemed to be a long time in filling out, and she helped it along by stroking it gently. "Rose, honey, your mom is right out there..." I gestured toward the open bedroom door; she put a finger to my lips and shook her head silently, then just as silently, climbed up onto the bed and, without saying anything more, climbed up on top of me, gripped my member and guided it into her moist, velvet spread, sighing deeply as I penetrated her. She started out slowly, riding me up and down, but very quickly increased her speed. Rocking back and forth, sliding up and down, she rode me hard, bucking and pumping, gasping and grabbing my chest as I gripped her by the waist and held on tight. The aroma of sex filled my senses, I felt like I was drowning in it, like being caught beneath a wave that keeps rushing over you and knocking you back. I hadn't even had a chance to think about what we were doing, I just let Rose take the lead; and before I knew it, I was on the threshold, ready to cross over. "Rose," I whispered, "sweetheart, I'm really close, I'm about to lose it, get off me now honey, before it's too late." My words only spurred her to greater action; she was humping furiously, her soft breasts bouncing and rippling in the darkness above my face, riding me like a maniac and panting softly, "oh oh oh oh oh". "Rose, no," I hissed, "stop it, stop it, I'm gonna... ohmyGod, here I go!" And with that, I slid over the edge. As I was spasming up into her, she collapsed on my chest and put her mouth over mine, shoving her tongue past my teeth and ramming it in and out, fucking my mouth with her tongue, a hell-bent little sex machine. As the spasms subsided, she slowed and moved her mouth down to my neck, dragging her tongue across my shoulders, and still she was slowly sliding up and down on me, milking the last little tremors. Then it was over, but she stayed on me, panting and sweating and lightly scratching my chest with her fingernails. I couldn't move, couldn't even turn my head or speak. My hands had slipped down to her thighs, and as they rested there, I could feel little bolts running up through her legs, making her quiver slightly at random for a long time afterward.

When I didn't say anything for a while, Rose smiled langorously, "We'll be okay, I know it. It's been four weeks since my last period, it's too late for me to get pregnant. You'll see, I'll start bleeding in a day or so and you'll know everything is okay." She kissed me on the chest and pulled the sheet over us. "There, you see? We covered our nakedness before the eyes of God." I had to smile in spite of myself.

"Still, that's quite a chance to take, sweetheart," I mumbled, not wanting to seem ungracious, wanting to take care to never seem ungrateful for such a powerful gift.

"Well, I thought of it like this," she said slowly, her toes softly scratching my legs, "if you start doing this with my mom, I might not get to do it with you as often. So I wanted to do it with you while I had the chance. It was worth it, wasn't it? I mean, I can still feel it in my legs and my butt!" She slid slowly off of me, and in the darkness I could just make out the outline of her face and breasts as she lay back. "OhmyGod, the smell! Jack, will it still smell like sex in here in the morning?" We opened the window to feel the slight chill of November that had crept in during the last hour and turned on the little fan on Marjorie's nightstand, and Rose lit the two candles on the dresser; Kona Coast Vanilla and Apple Blossom Cinnamon.

29

...She makes love just like a woman, yes she does, and she aches just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl... Just Like A Woman     (Robert Zimmerman)

Things were a little uneven after that. Marjorie remembered that something had passed between us, but the amount of alcohol she had consumed had apparently blotted out most of it, and she wasn't quite sure what it was, and wasn't sure how to suss it out; and I wasn't sure how to act around her. Rose was laying subtle pressures on me every other day, passing little hints that she figured would push me into approaching Marjorie, to start a physical relationship.

There came a Wednesday evening in December, a couple of weeks before Christmas, that Rose apparently couldn't take it anymore. As we sat in the early evening gloom of the clubhouse, playing Yahtzee and chowing on pretzels, she reached across the coffee table and, taking my chin in her delicate little hand to ensure my full attention, said "Jack, are you gonna ask my mom out?" She was so direct and open, and so intent and insistent on her little "project", that I simply folded like a house of cards and said, "All right, love, you win. I'll call her tomorrow to ask her out this weekend."

"Can't let you wait until tomorrow, babe," she pouted, "don't want you to get cold feet. Ask her NOW!" And her expression shifted to such a perfect blend of petulence and pleading that all hope of resistance was destroyed.

"Okay, okay, you win," I sighed. "I'll ask her tonight." Rose bounced to her feet, any thought for the game swept away by my agreement.

"Let's go then, Jack, let's go ask her NOW!" she demanded pulling at my hand until I stood and followed her to the door. As we shrugged into our coats and slipped on our shoes, Rose turned to me. "What are you going to say? I mean, what are you going to ask her?"

"God, I don't know," I muttered, "I've never really asked anyone on a date before. I... I... um..." Rose looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Just go with the classic, ask her if she wants to go to dinner and a movie!" As I opened the door for her, I gave her arm a little squeeze to punctuate my next comment, "Jeez, Rose, it isn't that easy! I can't just blurt it out like that! All of a sudden, I'm so nervous! It takes a hell of a lot more courage than you know to ask a woman to go out with you. It's a scary thing."

"Well then pretend it's me. You wouldn't have any trouble asking me, would you?"

"That's different, sweetheart. We know each other so well, and you're my best friend in the world."

"Oh shut up and just do it, Jack! I know you can!"

At the door of the apartment, I put a hand on Rose's shoulder to stop her before she could enter. "Wait a minute, Rose, I am NOT going to take her out in that truck, and it would be unforgivably lame for me to ask to borrow her own car to take her out."

"Oh come on, Jack, it was no big deal for you to use the car when mom was out of town, this isn't all that much different." She put her arms around me and squeezed tight. "And you're almost like family anyway, so it's all cool," and the impish smile that filled half her face told me that she knew I was going to give her whatever she wanted.

Without waiting for further response from me, she flung open the door and breezed into the apartment, leaving me stuttering along in her wake.

"Hey mom," she sang out, "I'm home!" When she heard Rose, Marjorie came out of the bathroom, hair wrapped in a towel and a bathrobe that she hadn't bothered to completely close draped loosely around her curves. When she saw me, she blushed briefly and quickly closed the robe, and I blushed harder and turned away a few seconds too late. Seemingly oblivious to this exchange, Rose turned on her heel and fixed me with an expression of 'Do the right thing, I'm counting on you!'

"Um, hi, um, Marj," I stumbled, "um, sorry to catch you offguard like this. Um...", a lightning bolt from Rose's eyes letting me know that I had better not drop the ball; even if I had caught Marjorie completely naked and slathering herself with baby oil, Rose would have expected me to stick to plan, "if you're not busy Saturday night, would you, um... would you like to... ah, get something to eat with me?" Another imperious flash from Rose's baby browns, "and, ah, maybe catch a movie?"

Marjorie was as off-guard and unsure as I was. I could see she had witnessed the little looks Rose was giving me, and I felt sure she knew exactly what was going on. She took a few seconds to assess the situation, before slowly nodding and even more slowly smiling, "Sure, I'd like that. I'd like that a lot, Brent." And her smile kept growing until it was radiating it's own warmth across the empty space between us and lighting up my chest. I thought briefly of cursing fate, or kismet, or whatever in the hell it is that evaluates and watches our lives, for forcing me to endure so much loneliness, then 'making up' for it by giving me too much happiness to handle. "So then," my voice suddenly coming much freer and steadier, "I'll stop by about, what, say, 6?" Marjorie nodded vigorously, "Yeah, 6 is fine," she gushed with her mouth, while her eyes added, 'and so are you!' Wowzers. I was so euphoric that I completely forgot to say anything about the car. Rose assured me later that she would handle that little detail. So confident, so competent, so capable. How could I NOT be in love with her?

As I was leaving, Rose followed me out into the hall. She took my hand and kissed the palm, then pressed herself into my embrace. "Thank you, Jack, I knew you could do it!" I had no words, so I just hugged her all the tighter.

Saturday afternoon found Rose assembling my attire for the date. Not that she didn't trust me, she explained, but she felt like she should be running this little show. I didn't mind, it was much more enjoyable for me anyway, to just sit back and let someone else make all the decisions. Before I put my shirt on, Rose applied a generous amount of Old Spice to my face, neck and chest, rubbing it in, her tender little digits making circling motions around my nipples that made me melt. A most curious sensation, to be dressed by my thirteen year old lover, her confident and capable fingers buttoning my shirt, fastening and zipping my pants with a gentle squeeze to what lay beneath the zipper, helping me into my jacket... she was my daughter, my mother, my sister, my friend, my lover, my wife... so many conflicting feelings and sensations... and when at the end she was done and stood back to admire her handiwork, she liked what she saw so much that she wrapped her loving arms around me, and then all the other women she had been were gone, and there was only my lover, wild and mournful over the imminent change in our relationship.

By then, it was ten minutes to six. We walked slowly over to the apartment, not quite daring to hold hands, but with our little fingers wrapped together in the space between us. It felt like Rose was still trying to learn to let go of the part of me that her mother might soon have.

When we walked into the apartment, I felt my jaw come unhinged and literally fall open at the sight of Marjorie. Her eyelids were tinged with this gentle blue and purple sparkly stuff, her lips gleaming red, and she bore an almost invisible streak of maroon on her cheeks. Her long hair curled gently around her shoulders; the white shirt she wore had a brilliant swatch of colors across the front, with a neckline so low that with the top button unbuttoned, I was sure I was seeing more than half of her breasts. A simple, single chain of silver glittered around her neck, matched by a bracelet on her left wrist. Her tight tan skirt came halfway down her thighs, and when she walked over to me, I could see it riding up fairly high to allow her legs to move. Her feet were just barely covered by strappy little sandals with one inch heels. She moved toward me with a slinky sidestep, and when she stood in front of me, she reached up to gently push my jaw back up into a closed position, then reached forward to give a quick hug. I inhaled deeply; the sweet smell of her Navy was intoxicating.

"My, don't you look nice tonight," Marjorie murmured as she stood back and eyed me warmly.

"Marjorie," I rasped like an idiot, and had to clear my throat a couple of times to continue, "Marj... you're dazzling, you're too beautiful for words. You are... a... vision of delight..." For the first time ever, I heard Marjorie giggle, actually giggle like a schoolgirl, and her cheeks burned with a furious ochre that suddenly made her twice as beautiful. I actually started to hypverventilate just a little from the sudden overwhelming collision of sensation, emotion and desire that pierced my chest and points lower.

She fished in her handbag for a second before producing the car keys and slipping them into my pants pocket (!) with a friendly little pat to make them jingle (!!!) and a sultry smile only inches from my face. Taking my arm in hers, Marjorie turned to Rose and said, "Ready sweetheart?" Rose looked a little stricken as she chewed her lower lip and nodded. Marjorie continued, "Okay, get your bag, honey, let's get this show on the road." At my look of bewilderment, Rose cocked her head at me and said, "Oh, I forgot to tell you, I'm sleeping over at Brittany's tonight, so you guys are gonna have to drop me off on the way." I felt my jaw start to slide open for a second time before catching myself and closing it. The... MINX... had made sure there would be nothing to inhibit me, nothing in my way, when Marjorie and I got back to the apartment; nothing to provide an excuse for not bedding her. Again I say to you, HOW could I NOT be in love with her?

Dropping her off at Brittany's brought a startling new sensation; the anxiety of a parent delivering a child to a first-ever experience where the parent isn't around to supervise. I knew that Rose must have been to a sleepover before, but not since I had known her, and the uneasy feeling it caused in my gut must have been similar to what a father feels. A decidedly unpleasant feeling. As we watched from the driveway, Rose knocked on the door. When Brittany opened it, she stepped out onto the porch to wave to us. Score one for Brittany; that little courtesy made me feel a little more charitable toward her. Even dressed down, Brittany looked like a firecracker, and I could easily see why she would have no trouble getting all the men she wanted.

As we headed to Vincenzo's Steakhouse, Marjorie and I sat in tense silence. Well, maybe not tense, but there was definitely some kind of tension between us. The thousand-and-one unspoken questions, expectations, hopes, fears, anxieties, hungers, needs, swarmed over us and between us; it was torture, for me at least, to have all these raw expectations. Neither of us sure how to make that first puncture in the bubble that separated us. I coughed nervously once or twice, and a minute later Marjorie followed suit. We looked at each other, and she gave me a little smirk, which brought an involuntary smile from me, which caused her smirk to grow bolder, which increased my smile, until we were both laughing uproariously, as over some monumental jest we had made together. We still hadn't said anything to each other, but the tension was completely released, evaporated, vanished. Just as she had so many times in front of the TV in her apartment, Marjorie's hand came to rest on my knee. It was a feeling of such intense familiarity, and brought such a rush of relief, that I was completely unaware until sometime after I did it, that I had put my hand on Marjorie's knee in response. I should have been nervous; instead, it was comforting. It was an unspoken acknowledgement between us of how the night was going to end. We both knew it, now we had admitted it to each other, and that admission made everything smooth and right, replacing the tingling uncertainty with an edgy anticipation that sent tremors through my crotch. It was the difference between being buffeted by turbulence at 20,000 feet and a long steady glide on a certain path to an easy landing. I would have sworn even our hearts were beating in unison.

Vincenzo's was strangely quiet for a Saturday night. We didn't have to wait to be seated, we were immediately shown to a cozy little table in the corner furthest from the kitchen, hidden in a fern- and candle-choked alcove that isolated it from the rest of the patrons. As we perused the menu, Marjorie reached over to touch my arm, and I couldn't stop myself from looking straight down the front of her shirt. As it turned out, she only wanted to tell me that she wanted us to go Dutch on the bill. Again, I saw the hand of Rose at work, trying to grease the skids; I was sure she had prepped Marjorie on my lack of disposable income, trying to ease as much of the burden on me as she could, to remove any distraction from the task at hand. Marjorie ordered a petite sirloin, while mine was a chicken carbonara. While we waited for the food, we shared a bottle of Sangria; after the first sip, Marjorie smiled at me over the rim of the glass and said, "Tonight, I spend with you." It was a comfort to know what she really meant by that, to not have to guess if there was any deeper meaning, but that didn't make me any less anxious over the prospect.

When the food came, Marjorie cut a portion of her steak and put it on my plate, and I did the same for her with my chicken. The food was delicious, the music and lighting were perfect, and we shared an easy conversation as we finished the bottle of Sangria, although I honestly can't remember a single thing we said to each other. When we were done eating and the bill arrived, Marjorie teased a 20 from her handbag and pressed it into my hand, and as we stood at the register while I paid for the meal, she wrapped her arm around mine and stood very close, her brilliant red lips vaguely curved in a mysterious smile that made me giddy. As we walked out to the car, our arms naturally slipped around each other's waists. I walked her around to the passenger side and held the door open for her, and she thanked me with her smile.

We pulled into the parking lot of the theater and cruised slowly past the posters advertising the current movies. Each one looked less interesting than the one before, and we found ourselves agreeing that none of them appealed enough to make the effort. Marjorie suggested stopping at Larry's Liquor Lodge on Parkway, to get a bottle of something while we mulled our choices; so we did. As small as Larry's store was, his selection was nothing short of amazing. No matter what type of liquor I could think of, Larry had it. I suspected that was probably the reason Marjorie picked this place. She had selected a bottle of 90 proof rum and a two liter of Coke; when she sashayed up to the counter to pay, Larry couldn't take his eyes off her. "Holy Gawd Mawj, you look hawtter than hayull," he wheezed as he bagged up the bottles, and with a couple of comically lewd winks, "mus' be a pretty hawt date!" Marjorie smacked his shoulder (pretty hard, I thought) and hissed "Shut up, Larry! Jeezis, you're such an old goat!"

Back in the car, Marjorie pursed her lips and blew air through them. "No glasses," she mused, "guess we'll have to head back to the apartment for a bit. Long enough to knock back a drink or two, anyway, while we decide what to do." I drove us back to the complex, parked, and followed her back to her place. Inside, we kicked our shoes off at the door, and I slipped off my jacket and tossed it on a chair. She got down a couple of glasses while I cracked an ice cube tray, and in less time than it takes to tell, we were sitting side by side on the couch, sipping our drinks and sizing each other up. I could see that Marjorie wanted to say something to me, but she was struggling with it; her eyes were darting from side to side as if she were sizing up the best route through a gauntlet. I took a deep pull on my drink to get my courage up, then reached out to massage her shoulder, mildly amazed at my audacity. "Hey, Marj, it's okay," I whispered, "just relax. Nothing to be tense about. Just breathe. It's just us, just sitting here." All alone. Nobody else in the whole wide world. Probably both going to be drunker than hell very shortly.

I continued to gently caress her shoulder, reaching up to brush her neck with my fingers, and she closed her eyes and made a little "ooooo" with her lips. With eyes still closed, she started, "Brent..." My heart did a somersault at that, but I just kept smoothly rubbing her shoulder and neck. "Brent," she started again, "you know how I feel about your relationship with Rose." Completely of it's own accord, my hand stopped rubbing. As if she hadn't noticed, she went on, "You saved us, Brent. You saved Rose, you rescued her for me. You reached down into Hell and pulled her up. And you pulled me up with her. You saved us both. You... you saved her... from me..." An absurd sting of gratitude for her perception of me burned my eyes, and I slowly started to stroke the side of her neck again. She glanced at her drink, took a long pull on it, then suddenly drained the glass. She laid her head back and closed her eyes again, lost in the sensation of my massage. After a couple of shuddering breaths, she pressed on, so softly that I had to lean in closer and closer to hear her. "I thought I wanted to get drunk, tonight, with you, because... because... get drunk with you, because I wanted to... wanted us to..." I had an overwhelming rush of feeling, a sweet urge toward her that I couldn't resist. I took her glass and put it with mine on the coffee table, and leaned forward to kiss her gently on the throat. She made a little strangled noise and put her hand on my hair, and suddenly I was drowning in her, sucked under by the smell of her perfume and the willing way she tilted her head back to give me better access to her. "Don't, uh... don't, Bren... don't, uh, uh... stop, Brent, don't do that... we have to, uh...have to get drun...OOOoooohhhhh" she murmured, while the steady pressure of her hand on the back of my head was moving me gently down her chest, to the valley between her breasts. Very slowly and deliberately, I unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it back, and she helped me by shrugging out of it. She was still trying to tell me to stop as she unfastened her bra and slid it off. Her nipples were already tight and hard. At the first flick of my tongue around her areola, her back arched and she made a savage growl in the back of her throat. The heavenly feel of her nipple under my tongue sent a warm shock through my thighs, and she was pulling my head down further into her flesh. "Ohhhhh, my goddddd... Bren... Jac... Jack..." she breathed, and I knew we couldn't hold back. I quickly stood and scooped her up; she seemed to have no weight, like she was almost floating in my arms. As I carried her into the bedroom, her tongue was drawing little patterns on my neck; she kissed, then sucked on my ear, and I started to feel dizzy. I was afraid I might drop her, so I set her on her feet next to the bed, where she unbuttoned my shirt, kissing her way down my chest as she did so. She didn't stop with the shirt; when she got to my pants, she unfastened and slipped them down my legs, then knelt in front of me to help me step out of them, followed by the socks. As she was kneeling before me, my half-mast erection roared to a full, raging stiffness that pushed unmercifully against my underwear. She pulled those off too, then leaned into me to take my cock in her hand and my balls in her mouth. Looking down at this beautiful woman, this mother of my Goddess, kneeling before me, servicing me with a ferocious hunger, I got a strange twinge in my chest to match the one that was building behind my balls. She was making me weak in the knees; I sat on the bed, then pulled her up by the shoulders to get her to stand. With an assist from her, I unzipped and slid her short skirt off. It was hard to see; the only light in the room was the spillover from the living room lamp, but I could see the crotch of her panties was wet, and the smell confirmed it. I slid her underwear off, then pulled her down onto the bed and had her lay back while my tongue travelled every inch of her body. When I got to her thighs, the smell of her musk pushed all rational thought out of my head, and my tongue started trying to work it's way completely inside her. Marjorie had shaved her pussy, the skin was baby smooth, and the feeling of that flesh beneath my tongue was ecstatic. Marjorie was moaning and panting, her legs spread as wide as she could get them, her hands flung back over her head, gripping the headboard to hold herself in place while my mouth and nose made their way deeper and deeper into the glistening folds of her bare flesh. I was working my way slowly up her valley, and when my tongue found her clitoris, her back arched and her hips were bucking wildly beneath me, so that it was all I could do to keep my tongue buried in her heat. I backed off from the clitoris for a few seconds, and suddenly she was spraying me in the mouth with her juice, literally shooting a gush of fluid that splashed over my shocked tongue. After I caught what I could, I moved back up to her clitoris, trying to bury it in my tongue, pouring every last ounce of myself into stroking and exciting and loving that tiny area, until it became the entire universe to me. Her thighs had wrapped themselves around my head, squeezing and pulling me down, squeezing, squeezing, until I thought I might pass out from the pressure, and still I kept a steady rhythm of my tongue on that little miracle of flesh that was rocking her. Although my ears were completely blocked by her legs, I could still hear her wails and moans; or rather, I felt them as a vibration through her thighs. My lungs were beginning to protest the lack of air, but I couldn't stop, couldn't pull my nose and mouth out of her hot, wet temple. Suddenly, she grabbed my hair and pulled my head up from her crotch. "Inside me," was all she could say, "inside me now, get inside me now, god, please please please get inside me now..." I scrambled up until we were face to face. Marjorie put her arm around my neck and pulled my mouth to hers, her rum taste filling my senses as her breath rushed into me. I had condoms in my pants, but the moment demanded we keep going, and I didn't have any more time to think about what we were doing, I just did it. Guiding it with my thumb and first two fingers, I put the head of my cock right at her opening and teased it in. Once the head was surrounded, I slid the rest of the way in so easily that it was almost like falling into her. So sloppy, my god, so sloppy and wet and hot as I pushed and pushed myself into her, hearing the sloshing, slapping sounds we made against each other. Her hands dug into my butt cheeks, tearing at them, pulling me into her, as if she meant to fit my whole body in there. From a million miles up, I felt the rush coming on. I didn't know how long it would take, but I felt how inevitable it was, and I knew it was going to happen; I knew I was going to shoot my load deep into her waiting temple. Something in the way I was moving must have told her, because she began rocking her head back and forth, panting "Together, together, oh my god, we're gonna, we're gonna, we're gonna c-c-cum together...", and then it was happening; the feeling between my legs sent a shockwave through me, my vision was suddenly shot through with rainbow blooms and angry white spangles that grew until they blotted out everything else, and there I was, floating in that timeless space, the darkness that wasn't. The Little Death, that Rose had introduced me to, where I heard and saw nothing, where every other sense that wasn't pure explosive pleasure ceased to exist for an infinity of seconds.

When my hearing and sight faded so slowly back in, I became aware of Marjorie next to me, barely breathing, a single tear running slowly from each eye, sparkling in the faint light from beyond the bedroom door. She gradually turned to look at me, and her eyes were reflections of wonder. "Bren... Ja... Jack? What... oh holy god. Oh my god, oh my holy fucking god, what was that? What did you do to me? I... I... I thought I was dying! I really thought I was fucking dying!" and as words failed her completely, I put her hand on my face so she could feel me nodding in the dark. "Yes, I know," I said, "I felt it too. It's called the Little Death. I think. I mean, I know there's a feeling called the Little Death, and I thought I knew what it was, but until I felt it myself, I never had any idea what it actually was or how it felt."

"Does this happen to you every time you have sex?" she asked. "Or is it only with certain people?" Ohmygod. I had just slipped and told her I had felt the Little Death before, and if she asked who I had experienced it with, what was I going to tell her?

"No, not every time..." I started slowly, then stopped, because I didn't know how to continue. I knew I owed her more of an explanation than that but...

"Jack," she whispered, stroking my chest and reaching up to my neck with her loving touch. Hearing her call me 'Jack' triggered a flood of emotions that were never meant to be felt together, confusing me to the center of my being. "Jack, I thought I needed to get drunk to make love to you, and I wanted to, so bad. Make love to you, that is. But I think I needed to get drunk for something else too. I don't know why, I just do. Do you know what I might have needed to get drunk for, Jack?" When she said that, something inside me tore loose and went speeding away on a gale of reckless abandon. "No, I don't," I whispered, "but I know how to find out. Let's get drunk and find out, shall we?" The uncertainty and potential in Marjorie's glance was all the answer I needed. With a loving kiss to each of Marjorie's beautiful round breasts, I pushed up from the bed. Wandering through the apartment in a light stupor, I collected our glasses, sloshed together a couple of rum and cokes that were very heavy on rum, and brought them back to the bedroom. "Drink up," I said as I sat in front of her and handed her one of the glasses. I took a sip from mine, and she guzzled down about half of hers on the first draught.

Wordlessly, Marjorie moved until she was sitting up, facing me, straddling me, and she was able to reach down between my legs and start stroking my shaft. When I was hard again, her movements let me know she wanted me inside her. She finished off her drink and put down the glass, then took my almost-full glass from me and drained what was left. She maneuvered until we were face to face, her in my lap, and she gripped my cock and guided into her waiting pussy, sliding down until I was buried, balls deep, with her pussy completely surrounding me. She wrapped her arms around me and pressed her breasts up against my chest, and as we sat there heart to heart, I started to really feel the rum.

"Bren... Jack," she started, then shivered, and I pressed us together tighter, "this is what I want'd to git drunk for. Cuz I need to tell you sumthin'. Sumthin' I c'n on'y admit to m'self when I git drunk. Y'see, I know... I know 'bout... 'bout you and Rose. Know you been lovin' each other," this last said with a squeeze of her inner muscles around my cock for emphasis. "I know you been... f... fuckin'... my li'l baby girl..." I think she knew I wouldn't have interrupted her, but she put her fingers on my mouth anyway. "D... don't rilly blame you... all that much, I mean, I was 14 when I fucked my first guy... but he was 19..." she wavered, aware that she was sliding away from the most important point she wanted to make. "I was... rilly upset, at firs'... cuz you were so old," my flinch at this seemed to go right by her, "but I knew you wouldn' hurt her. I knew... you... were a good guy, a rilly good good guy, I KNEW it, I knew you wouldn' hurt her..." She began to rock, just a little bit, back and forth on me. "I knew you... were like Stan... patient... and loving... an' she loves you, Jack, she loves you like a... like a... oh god damn it, Jack, I don't know what she loves you like, but she loves you. She LOVES you, Jack. With all her little heart..." She was rocking harder now, still riding my cock and starting to slide up and down on the shaft. "An' you love her too, I know you do, I seen it with my own eyes. I seen the way you look at her, the way you talk to her, the way you touch her... Aahh, aahhhh, oohhh... oh god..." this last in response to the friction of my cock inside her. "Oohhh f... fuhhhhhck... fffuuuhhhck me, Jack, fffuuuhhhck me... FUCK me like you was fuckin' Rose, FUCK me with your big hard daddy cock inside my little girlie pussy..." She was riding me for real now, humping with her hips and hugging my head to her breasts, "FUCK me daddy, FUCK me Jack, F... F... FUCK ME STAN, FUCK ME HARD IN MY PUSSY, FUCK ME LIKE YOU LOVE ME, FUCK YOUR BABY GIRL..." and she dissolved into a wordless series of ahhs and uhhs, moaning and gasping, humping like her life depended on it. I was in awe of the sheer desparate energy of it all, of her manic humping and pounding, and in what seemed like no time, she was cumming and crying out, and when she was done, she collapsed onto my chest. I hadn't cum, and had been in no danger of cumming. It had felt fantastic, and I didn't feel the least bit cheated; I was just glad I had been able to provide her with the means for her to reach orgasm a second time. As we lay there together, my hardness still deep inside her, I was surprised and bemused to hear gently snoring. As carefully as I could, I rolled her off of me and onto the mattress, rolling with her, taking care to keep my cock inside her. She stirred a little as I carefully and gently began stroking in and out of her, and in a couple of minutes I let loose another load inside her. She never woke up when I came, but she smiled and laughed gently in her sleep. I pulled out and laid next to her, stroking her hair and gently touching her face. She stirred a little more, then snuggled into me and threw her arm over my chest, still sound asleep. I pulled the blanket up over us and felt my eyelids getting very heavy, and that was the last thing I was aware of that night.

30

... After midnight, we gonna let it all hang out, after midnight, we gonna shake, jump and shout... After Midnight     (Eric Clapton)

I had some pretty wild dreams that night. I was sliding down a ramp of warm colored ice while stars flashed past my head. I was with Marjorie at a circus, eating rum-flavored cotton candy and watching a trapeze act where the safety net had been replaced by a pit filled with condoms. Rose and I were walking on a bridge over a deep ravine when the bottom fell out and we started to float down to earth; at the bottom of the ravine we could see a crashed UFO, whose pilots were walking around in a daze. Probably a dozen more like that, all short little snippets and all bizarre.

As the morning came and I was rising gently up toward the waking world, I slowly became aware of a sound close by; a soft sound, almost inaudible, but definitely there; a wet, rhythmic sound, and underneath it, the sound of breathing, soft yet distinctly heavy. Without moving, I tried to open one eye but there was something wrong; my eye was dried out, and when I looked around, my vision was blurred; I had slept with my contacts in again. Marjorie was curled up on her side of the bed, lost in slumber. I continued to look around through a half-closed eye; When my gaze fell on the bedroom door, I saw Rose looking at Marjorie and me in bed; or rather, she would have been looking at us if her eyes hadn't been kind of rolled back in her head, her eyelids fluttering just a little. I gradually became aware that she was masturbating; looking at the pair of us in bed, undoubtedly fantasizing about what our night had been like. I was debating whether to let her know I was awake (and probably interrupting her diddling in the process) or playing possum and letting her continue until she got off. My growing need to urinate almost decided the issue for me, when Rose's sudden soft explosion of breath told me she had reached her goal. I stirred and pulled the blanket aside, then pushed myself up to a standing position, rubbing my eyes to get some moisture back into the contacts. As I shuffled to the door, Rose gave me a crooked little grin and cocked her head to one side.

"Hey stud, how's it hangin'?" she whispered, and I had to laugh in spite of myself.

"Morning, angel. Sounds like you managed to... enjoy yourself," I smiled, and I briefly cupped her face in the palm of my hand as I brushed past her and continued on to the bathroom.

As I stood before the toilet and prepared to relieve myself, Rose came up behind me and wrapped her arms around me, kissing me on the back. Suddenly, she reached for my penis.

"Hey," she said quietly, "what's it like to pee standing up? Let me see," and she reached around to gently take me in her hand, peeking around to see where she was aiming the stream. Partly because she was inexperienced with aiming a stream, and partly because I was almost fully erect, more of it went outside the toilet than in. We cleaned it up together, grimacing and laughing, and Rose promised to be more careful next time, while I promised her there would not be a next time.

I slid back into the bedroom and slipped my pants and shirt on. Marjorie was laying on her back, snoring softly, her gorgeous breasts in full view. I drew the blanket up to her shoulders, then made my way out to the kitchen, where Rose was starting a pot of coffee.

"I didn't expect you back so soon, angel," I said, "in fact, I didn't expect you at all; I thought I'd need to pick you up from Brittany's."

"Yah, well, Brittany needed to be at cheerleading practice by 8, so they dropped me off on the way there." She turned to face me and leaned back to rest her elbows against the counter, her chest out, making the most of her lucious curves.

"I didn't realize you and Brittany were friendly enough to do a sleepover," I said.

"Well, it wasn't just the two of us. Callista and Jalisha were there too, you know, the girls she always hangs out with. I overheard them a couple of weeks ago, talking about it, and I had the idea that if I could get them to let me spend the night, I could give you the chance to..." and she lowered her head and looked up at me through half-closed eyes while holding up her left thumb and index finger in a circle and sliding her right index finger in and out of the circle. "God, I love you so much," I had to say, and she just winked and said, "I know. So anyway, I told Brittany that I always liked to listen to them talking in the lunch room, and that I was kinda jealous of them," this last said with saucy little smirk as she remembered the conversation, "and this and that, and it worked! She invited me to her sleepover, and that's all there is to that." She opened the cupboard to peruse her cereal choices with a finger on her lips; then, "So? How did the date go? I can see how it ended, but tell me the beginning and the middle," waggling her eyebrows ludicrously, "especially the middle."

I launched into a brief description of our supper, then told her about our failure to find a movie we wanted to see. She snorted when I told her about the trip to Larry's, but didn't say anything otherwise. I chewed my lower lip for a second while I tried to think of the best way to tell her about the rest of the evening. Rose prompted, "So, then you came back here, and... what?"

"Well, Marj... your mom... said she wanted to tell me something, but I could see she was having trouble bringing it up. We each had a drink to relax, but she was still having trouble with it. I was rubbing her neck to try to relax her," I said, noting how Rose's eyes sparkled when I said that, "and one thing led to another, and another, and..."

"And you fucked her brains out!" Rose breathed triumphantly.

"Well, yes, at first..." I started, and a cloud crossed her face; something in my manner warned her that there was more to come that she might not be ready for. "Rose, sweetheart... she knows. About us, I mean. She knows we've been... together..." and I repeated Rose's finger poking gesture for emphasis. Rose's eyes grew to twice normal size and her mouth slowly opened in shock. "I know she knows," was my lame finish, "because... she told me."

"She... wha... she... oh god... how... what did she... I mean... we..." Rose stumbled, her dawning horror muting her ability to vocalize, and I held my hand up to stop her.

"Angel, there's something else. I think she only lets herself realize it when she's drunk. I think when she's sober, she keeps it locked so far in the back of her head that she doesn't know it's there. So she doesn't really know that she knows, I mean."

"How do you know that? I mean, what did she say to you that..."

"Well, when we first got back here, we each had a rum and Coke, and that's when I started rubbing her neck. She kept trying to tell me to stop, but only because she wanted to be drunk when we made love. She wanted to get to that frame of mind where she was able to admit it to herself, so then she would be able to tell me she knew about us. But she wouldn't allow herself to say it at first, because we hadn't had enough to really get drunk the first time we did it, so she..."

"First time? Ohmigod, how many times did you guys do it?"

"Just twice, sweetheart, but let me finish. After the first time, she really wanted to finish the job of getting drunk. So we had some more, and that was apparently enough, because that's when she told me. And sweetheart, she wasn't angry or upset! I mean, she wasn't exactly overjoyed about it, but she seems to think that there's more good than bad to us being together. She didn't ask for any explanations, and she didn't tell me to stop... doing it... with you... and angel, there's one more thing." Rose's eyes got wider still, and in them was the question, 'How much more can there be?' I answered her with, "Sweetheart, while we were doing it, she called me Jack." I took about a half-second to consider whether I should share that she also called me Stan, before discarding that idea. No sense in pouring salt on a wound whose size and shape I couldn't even begin to gauge.

Rose was quiet after I told her this, chewing her lower lip while her brow furrowed so deeply I was afraid she might injure herself. The coffee maker spluttered to a finish, so I got down a mug and poured myself a cup, then sat at the table to wait for her to finish her first stab at assimilating the information I had just dumped on her. After a few more minutes, she turned to the cupboard and got down a box of Froot Whirls, then absently opened the box and stood looking inside, not really seeing the cereal. I could almost see the neurons in her head darting off on one tangent and another as her gaze drifted far beyond the confines of the kitchen. For an eternity of perhaps 2 or 3 minutes she stood like that; I wanted to take her in my arms, but I could see she needed the space, so I held myself in check. Gradually, she came back to the moment and gazed at me with such a mix of wonder, hope and fear that I could feel my insides twitching. She took a quick glance down at the cerealbox, which brought her another step closer to the present moment, then her sly smile gradually crept back. "So then, after she told you that, you guys did it again?"

Thank god, I thought, I think we're going to be all right. "Yes, love, we did it again, and that second time, she came so hard that it put her to sleep. Well, the rum probably had a lot to do with that, but it exhausted her. And Rose, get this; the first time we did it, we made it to the Little Death. Marj... your mom... well, she was stunned, and I think a little scared. She'd never felt that before. But it must not have made her too scared, because she was the one who got us started the second time. She really must have wanted it, because she was riding me like a bronco and, uh... screaming..." Rose crinkled her nose at that; I took it to mean I had provided a little more information than she was really ready for.

She settled herself at the table, snacking on handfuls of dry cereal. I reached over to the coffee pot and refilled my cup, then turned to face her. "So, what did you guys do at the sleepover?" I asked, my head filled with vague notions of giggling and nail polish, Tiger Beat and pizza and potato chips.

"Oh, just stuff. You know, just girl junk," she said. Her smile would have been coy, but there was something just a little too vague about it, a little too unsettled, for me to feel at ease.

"Girl junk? Like what?" I pressed. "Like, fingernail painting, or... ?" I glanced at her hands; she wasn't wearing polish, so obviously that wasn't it.

"Oohhh... just stuff, no biggie, just games and stuff, y'know, nothing really. Jeez, Jack, no big deal, eh?" Her smile was starting to wilt just a little, and my sense of unease took another sidling step forward. It was obvious she didn't want to tell me everything, and that scared me more than I cared to admit. It felt like the aura of a secret, a hidden truth, something new for us; something had happened that Rose didn't want me to know, and that was an ugly feeling indeed. I wanted to press her for details, but we were in uncharted territory, I didn't want to make a mistake; didn't want to hurt or embarrass her. I knew I should just let it drop and wait for Rose to bring it to me in her own good time... and yet... I leaned back in my chair, then totally without thinking, blurted out, "Games? You guys played Monopoly or something?"

"No... yeah, I mean, yeah, we played... ah... um... it was..." she shut her eyes tight and rubbed them as she struggled furiously for the words. "It... ah... it was, ah... I mean..."

I reached over to take her hand in mine. "Hey, it's okay sweetheart, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." Her eyes opened wide as she gazed into my face, "No, Jack, you're not prying, it's just... uh..." Her lower lip started to tremble, and I could see a tear beginning to glisten in the corner of her eye. I had no more doubts about holding her now. I reached over and pulled her up onto my lap, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her head down to my shoulder. "Shh, shh, it's okay," I whispered into her sweet-smelling hair, "it's okay love, really." She pulled back to look earnestly into my face.

"No, Jack, I want to tell you, it's just, I don't know where to start... it's... we... Brittany, she... um..." and she collapsed back onto my shoulder as bitter tears started trickling down her cheeks. As I held her close and wiped away the tears as they came, I could feel the beginning of a savage rage building inside me. What had that bitch Brittany done to my precious flower?

Rose took a few more seconds to wipe her nose with a napkin, and then she came back to herself with a few shuddering breaths. She closed her eyes and snuggled into me, once again the child in need of comfort and reassurance. A blessed responsibility, to be her daddy and soothe her fears; I was luxuriating in the sensation of being able to provide comfort and healing to my beloved. She laid her little hand on my chest and plunged ahead.

"When I first got there, everything was okay. Brittany introduced me to her mom, and she seemed like a nice lady, but I could tell she had a few drinks before I got there. Brittany didn't exactly out-and-out tell me, but I picked up from what she said, that her dad wasn't hardly ever around, and he wasn't there last night, so it was just Brittany's mom and then the girls she invited over, Callista and Jalisha and Arielle and Harmony. We all went in the basement and Brittany put on a CD, I don't even remember what it was. I felt pretty weird at first, like I didn't belong, but they were all cool to me, they talked about movies and junk, and they included me in the conversation and everything, so I started to relax a little, I felt like everything was going to be okay. But then some of the girls started calling boys they knew and teasing them on the phone, saying all kinds of sexy things and just basically trying to get them horny, it didn't take much. Anyway, they told some boys to come over to Brittany's house and bring beer. I started getting really super nervous, like, ohmigod, what did I get myself into? And Brittany and Jalisha took me over in a corner and were talking to me, but I was so scared that I didn't even hear half of what they said, but it was like, they were, like, stroking my hair and rubbing my back and calling me little sister, and then Jalisha said something that scared me so bad I wanted to, like pee my pants or vomit or something. I don't remember exactly what she said, but it was something about making a woman out of me, and I knew that these horny boys were coming over and they were planning to get drunk, and I knew there was gonna be sex, and I knew it wasn't gonna be making love like what you and I do, it was just gonna be straight-ahead sex and fucking, and even if it WAS lovemaking, it wasn't gonna be with you, it was gonna be with some stranger, and I got so scared I almost started crying, so Jalisha and Brittany both started hugging me and telling me how glad I was going to be before the night was over. So I went in the bathroom for like 20 minutes and just kept staring at myself in the mirror and imagining I saw you standing behind me, and I was saying your name over and over again, like, 'Jack, come and get me, Jack, come and get me', and feeling like the world's biggest crybaby idiot, and then I started getting really mad at myself, and I almost started screaming at my reflection, but it was so weird, like I was wanting to scream like I was mad but I couldn't stop crying and then I started hiccupping, and that was so weird that I started to laugh and I couldn't stop, and when I came out of the bathroom and I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe, and they started getting a little nervous, so Brittany went upstairs and came back down with a bottle of something she snuck from her mom, I heard her say her mom was wasted, and she got a little paper cup from the bathroom and poured a drink from the bottle in it and filled it almost all the way to the top and told me to drink it all at one time. And I was still scared, but I was also angry with myself for acting like such a stupid baby, and I was still laughing like an idiot the whole time, I didn't know what else to do, so I took the cup and I drank a big gulp from it, it tasted sweet like cherries or something, but a few seconds later my nose and the front of my face was on fire, and they were all looking at me and going, 'chug, chug, chug', so I forced myself to finish the cup, but that was a mistake, because Brittany filled it up again, but only less than halfway this time, and then they did it again, like 'chug, chug, chug', and I did, and I drank the whole thing at one time. And then my arms and legs started to get really heavy and warm and tired, but I was starting to feel better, and even though I was still scared, I thought I could probably handle it. And they turned on Q107, you know, the one that's always playing dance music and techno and stuff, and it sounded pretty good to me, and I started dancing, and the other girls were dancing too, and I didn't even get surprised when when Callista and Harmony started kissing and feeling each other's boobs, and it was almost 11 by then, and Brittany was starting to get mad and saying bad things about the boys they called, but then her cell phone rang and it was the boys and she let them in and they came down the basement and there were three of them and they had ALL this beer, and somebody put an open beer in my hand. And I started to feel a little better, because here I was, with all these older girls who danced with me and called me little sister, and the boys seemed okay too, I mean, they were even older, like 17 I think, but they were all just sitting there and drinking beer and laughing, and everybody was just talking and it seemed like that's all that was going to happen, just sitting and talking, and I was sitting there with an open beer, and I took a tiny little sip every once in a while, it tasted horrible, but at least I looked like I belonged. That was the coolest part, really, it was like being older, or like being taken seriously by older kids, and I started to feel pretty good about that, like maybe everything was gonna be okay. And then it was late, like after 12, and Brittany said we were gonna play Truth or Dare. And we all sat around in a circle, and Brittany said it was her house and her party and her rules, so she started it out by asking Harmony, truth or dare? And Harmony said dare, and Brittany just kinda snorted and said, 'you always take dare' and then she said the dare was that she was going to order a pizza and Harmony had to flash the delivery guy, not just her boobs, but everything, had to give him a good five seconds of full frontal, and Harmony just laughed and said 'bring it on'. So Brittany ordered a pizza, and since she was in charge, she got to do another truth or dare for somebody else while we were waiting for the pizza to get there. So she picked Alex, he was one of the guys who came, and he picked truth, so Brittany said for him to tell what girl's pussy he had eaten that tasted the worst. And he got kinda mad at her and called her a bitch and said, whatever girl he said, that girl would be mad at him, and if said no girl, everyone would think he had never tasted a girl's pussy, so it wasn't really a truth, it was a trick question, and Brittany called him a dumb cunt and said, 'pass', and then she picked Rod, and he said dare, and Brittany got the spinner from a Twister game and put it in the circle and said Rod's dare was, he had to lick the naked butt of whoever the spinner pointed to, and Rod got real quiet and started looking at everybody else in the room, and he kinda shuddered when he looked at Alex and Randy, and when he looked at me, I got this cold chill, and I was like, 'oh shit oh god oh shit oh god' and then she spun it and it pointed in between Arielle and Callista, so Brittany said he had to lick both of them, and Arielle didn't want to pull her pants down but she did when Callista did, and Rod licked them both, and I was freaking out so hard cuz I couldn't believe it was really happening, and when he sat back down, I could see the bulge in the front of his pants was really sticking out, and I'm still going 'oh shit oh god oh shit oh god' only like a hundred times faster, like it's a prayer or something. And then the pizza came, and Harmony not only flashed the guy, she, like, rubbed her naked body all over him, like just humping his leg and stuff, and he was so freaked out that he dropped the pizza and ran away without getting the money for it, and everybody was laughing so hard that it made me laugh too, even though I felt so sorry for the pizza guy. And Brittany said Jalisha got to do the next one, and they kinda winked at each other, and Jalisha said Randy, and he said dare, and Brittany was like, mmm hmmm, and Jalisha said Randy had to go in the bathroom with the lights off and take all his clothes off and he had to go in there with somebody else and that somebody else had to take off all their clothes too except they could leave their underwear on if they wanted to, but Randy still had to be naked, and they had to stay in there like that for ten minutes. And then everything got real slow, and real clear, like I was underwater, cuz I knew exactly who she was gonna say, and then she did, she pointed at me and said, 'make us proud, little sister', and her and Brittany just started kinda laughing quietly, and, and then... and then..." Rose stopped to take a breath and gather herself for a few seconds. "And then, we went in the bathroom, and Randy took off everything except his underwear, but I could see how stiff he was, his penis was sticking straight out in his shorts, and then he turned off the light, and I heard him take off his underwear and I knew he was naked in the dark with me, and I backed up until I hit the bathtub, and I sat down on the tub and closed my eyes and wished the bathroom door would open and it would be you coming to take me away, but the door stayed shut, and then Randy was saying for me to come on, and he grabbed my shoulders and made me stand up in front of him, and he promised not to hurt me, he said he wouldn't try to screw me if I didn't want him to, he just wanted to make me feel good, and I didn't stop him when he took off my shirt and unsnapped my pants, I didn't want him to but I was scared what would happen if I tried to stop him, and he unzipped my pants and pulled them down but I didn't step out of them, and then he took my hand and tried to put it on his stiff penis, and I didn't want to, I kept pulling my hand away, but he wouldn't stop, he just kept pulling my hand back, and I knew he was gonna keep doing it, so I just let him, he made my fingers wrap around his penis and he put his hand over mine and started stroking it, like he thought he had to show me how to jack him off, but when he stopped moving my hand, I stopped too, I didn't keep stroking it like he wanted me to, and then he was all over me, like squeezing my boobs real hard through my bra and pinching my nipples and it hurt, and he was grabbing my butt and kinda slapping it, and he reached inside my panties and squeezed my butt real hard, and he was like trying to kiss me on my neck and he tried to put his stiff penis between my legs but I squeezed my legs together and I wouldn't let him, but he just did it even harder, and he forced himself between my legs and was rubbing his penis up and down on my panties, and I thought how good it felt when you and I were dry-humping, and how horrible this was, and I just wanted him to stop, and I said 'Randy please stop, why are you like this, why do you want to have sex with someone you don't even know', and he was like 'Cuz it feels so good, and anyway you're super cute and I'd fuck you a thousand times if you let me', and when he said that my heart jumped a little, like I was still so scared, but at the same time this tiny little spark inside me made me feel good when he said I was super cute, and like maybe he wasn't so bad cuz it seemed like he liked me and he wasn't hitting me or anything, but I still wanted him to stop cuz he was being so rough and he just kept grabbing me and hurting me, and then he pulled my panties down and started rubbing my vagina and I thought he was really gonna do it, I thought he was really gonna fuck me, but for a long time he just rubbed my vagina with his hand and he kept telling me he wasn't gonna rape me but I should just open my legs and let him in, but even though I didn't, he kept rubbing me and putting his fingers on my vagina, but he never put his fingers inside me, it was like he was afraid to or he didn't want to or didn't know how to or something, and that made me feel a tiny bit better, cuz he could have if he wanted to, he could have shoved his fingers right up inside me and I couldn't have stopped him. And somehow I got through the ten minutes and Brittany was knocking and saying we had until the count of ten, and then she counted, but she said, 'one, two, ten' and she opened the door and I tried to cover my body and then there was this horrible flash and I went blind for like a minute, and by the time I finished putting my clothes on I could see again, and there was Brittany holding a camera and laughing, and Randy was trying to put his clothes on all at once and yelling that Brittany was a cold bitch, but that just made her laugh harder. And she showed me the picture, and it was awful, it was blurry but you could see Randy trying to pull his pants on and his erection was pointing right at the camera, and there was me with my pants and panties around my knees and I was trying to pull them up, and I was so glad it was over that I managed to laugh and smile and I said, 'That was a good one, you really tagged me' and she just smiled and told me I was all right, and she said we'd get my cherry popped sooner or later, and it was so weird, but that actually made me feel better, cuz I could have told her she was too late, I already had it popped, and cuz I knew my sex life was so much better than hers, even though I couldn't tell her, it still made me feel better just to be able to think it. And they kinda left me alone for the rest of the night, I mean, like they still talked to me, but they talked a lot more to each other. And the boys left probably around 2 or 3, and the girls laid down and went to sleep, but I couldn't sleep, I just lay there in the corner all night, staring at the wall and waiting for morning so I could come home to you guys. And then it was morning, and Brittany was kinda crabby and told me they had to leave but they could drop me off on the way, and... here I am," her little arms wrapped around my neck and pulled me in close for a long, grateful kiss, "safe and sound with you."

During this roller coaster ride, I was in the grip of a fear and an anger such as I had never felt before. The majority of the anger was directed at myself, for so carelessly and cavalierly letting Rose walk into such a dangerous and frightening situation. But a healthy portion of it was reserved for Brittany. Even if she did think of Rose as a little sister, the whore had treated her like an experiment, like an entertainment. I swore this would not go unanswered.

"Oh god, sweetheart, I'm so, so sorry I let this happen to you," I started, but Rose shushed me and put her hand on my lips.

"No Jack, stop, it wasn't you, it wasn't your fault, it was my own fault. I was so anxious for you to make love to my mom that I jumped at the first chance I got without thinking it through. But I'm okay, really Jack, I really am."

"Even if that's so, I can't let it go. I can't let that little bitch think she can do this to my Rose and not suffer any consequences."

"Oh, no Jack, no, please please don't do anything. I really don't think she meant to hurt me, I really think she thought she was helping me, cuz she thought I was still a virgin and she just wanted to help me change that. I couldn't bear it if you did anything bad to her, I swear I couldn't. Please Jack, promise me you won't do anything to her, swear it."

My love. My sweet, beautiful, trusting, generous, innocent love. I knew that I couldn't resist her plea... for now. I let her know with a smile and a snuggle that I would honor her request. But I promised myself that before much more time had passed, there would be a reckoning. As Rose got down a glass to pour herself some milk, we heard Marjorie getting out of bed and making her way to the bathroom.

31

I'm gonna give you every inch of my love... Whole Lotta Love    (Led Zeppelin)

My relationship with Marjorie was touch and go for a few days. After the level of intimacy we had achieved, it would have been wrong to go back to only showing up once a week for dinner; but the other end of the spectrum, which would have been to start coming over every day, hanging all over her, bringing her flowers and chocolates and other such gifts as I could afford, was loaded with unknowns that I didn't know how to deal with. And while I was very fond of her, and maybe even could say I loved her after a certain fashion, it wasn't the all-consuming passion I felt for Rose; it wasn't the kind of feeling that makes love songs make sense.

For her part, Marjorie seemed as unsure as I was. If we ran into each other, we'd smile and nod, maybe exchange a few pleasant words, and then be on our separate ways. I wondered if the encounters were as painful for her as they were for me. The uncertainty was damned nigh unbearable, the anxiety thick with unguessed possibilities.

It was Marjorie who unwittingly (?) found the way to break the logjam of emotions that was crushing me, by restoring my ability to lust. When I first found Rose, after I had begun to realize what she meant to me, no other woman had been able to arouse me. I mean, when I was doing my chores or whatever at the pool, I was able to admire the swimsuited forms of the women there, but it was just that: admiration, not lust. But on the Thursday after my date with Marjorie, as I was checking chemical levels in the pool (and while Rose was doing homework in the common room), she showed up in her flag bikini for a little swim. She walked past me, and as she did, her hand snaked out to give me the barest little squeeze on my upper arm, hardly enough to register as a touch, but definitely a deliberate move on her part; then she dove from the board and began to swim laps. As I stood there gazing abstactedly at her moving through the water, I realized I was geting an erection; I was lusting after Marjorie, fantasizing about her, like I had with no other woman since Rose landed in my life. I knew then that I wanted to pursue this, needed to see the results of devoting my attention to this woman, the mother of my soulmate. I had to act; when she climbed out of the pool, I approached her with a towel.

"Hey Marj, have you got a minute? I want to talk to you about something," was my entr�e. Her half-smile was crooked, a lift of one corner of her mouth that reflected her uncertainty and curiosity; impaling my heart with a winsome dimple. Her eyes traveled down my body, as if searching for a clue to what I was about, and when she saw the bulge in my pants, her eyes widened in surprise and anticipation. I draped the towel around her shoulders and gave her arms a gentle squeeze, then led the way to my room, and as I ushered her in by placing my hand in the small of her back, a tremor ran the length of her body. I closed the door, then positioned her in front of the cot and with a gentle pressure on her shoulders, made her sit down on it. She didn't know what to do with her hands; they were fluttering like little lost birds seeking safe haven, wandering from the cot to her lap to her stomach, back to her lap. I leaned forward and began to massage her shoulders; gently at first, then becoming a little more vigorous, kneading and rolling my fingers down the sides of her arms. The relaxtion was almost immediate. Her hands settled, palms up, on the cot at her sides; she leaned forward into my fingers until her face was almost touching my stomach, her eyes closed in a serene meditation.

"Marj," I began, and when, after a long pause, she after she answered with an almost inaudible 'mmmmmm....', I continued, "I don't know where I'm going with this." I reached down with my right hand to gently knead her breast, rubbing my thumb over her nipple. "But I know it's someplace I want to be. Someplace I want us to be. Together." She was so relaxed that she allowed herself to fall forward, her face plowing into my stomach with a tender thump. As I began rubbing her back, she became so loose and limp under my touch that she slowly slid down my front, until her face was next to the bulge in my pants. I unsnapped and unzipped, pulling myself out while trying to avoid disturbing her restful position. She slowly opened her eyes and gazed at my erection, a faint langorous smile touching her lips. She reached up to caress my balls, then gripped and kneaded them between her fingers. The feeling was incredible, and I couldn't stop an animal growl from stretching the back of my throat. I let her continue like that for a few more minutes; she was breathing on my hardness and squeezing and rolling my balls between her fingers, pulling moans from further back in me than I knew existed. The feeling was sweet torture; every time I thought couldn't take any more, she pushed me onto a new level of pleasure that started the whole thing over again. When I knew I absolutely couldn't take any more, I pushed her shoulders almost roughly down onto the cot, pulling her bikini top over her head and arms and tossing it to the floor before advancing on her stomach and breasts with my tongue. Her hard nipples belonged in my mouth; as I swirled around and around those beautiful nubs, she began twitching, her head making little jerking motions as she softly moaned, "uh... uh... uh..." and her fingers wrapped themselves in my hair. My hands were busy pulling off the bikini bottom and tossing it aside as well. I kissed and licked my way down her stomach, and when my tongue found it's way down to the clean valley between her legs, she began twitching and grunting, kicking me in the side with her heels. God, why did it feel so good to be kicked like that? Any other time and I'd have been fighting it off or trying to get away from it; but this felt so right, so natural and therapeutic... she tasted so good and right under my tongue, so... so... juicy, damnit, is the only word for it, like a luscious peach. An image suddenly formed in my head of Marjorie beneath me on her hands and knees, and I flipped her over and started vigorously tonguing her butt. Somehow I found the time to slip my clothes off, and then I was facing her from behind, pulling her up onto her knees until her rump was right beneath my gut, her face still buried in the pillow. Perfectly positioned, I guided myself into her waiting temple, smoothly sliding all the way into her hot, wet flesh with one motion. She let loose a little shriek when I did that, then wrapped her arms around the pillow and buried her face in it, groaning, almost singing, matching me stroke for stroke. I was almost as surprised by the level of violence I was thrusting into her with, as I was at the level of violence she was returning every time as she thrust back onto me. I was gripping her hips hard just to try to stay inside her; we were slamming into each other furiously, and as I looked up, I saw the door to my room had been opened just a crack; we were being watched. Before I could react, I realized it must be Rose, finally able to satisfy her curiosity. The door opened a little wider, and I could see that it was, indeed, Rose. She was looking right into my eyes and smiling the strangest smile, and as I returned her gaze and mouthed 'I love you', Marjorie suddenly reached back, trying to grab me and pull me as deeply into her as she could get me. She was trembling, her thighs almost vibrating, as the first orgasm rolled over her. I felt miles away from cumming, strong and in control. I kept thrusting into her with a steady rhythm, and Marjorie was screaming into the pillow, her hoarse cries escaping from the corners as I pumped with everything I had. I lost count after her third orgasm, but it felt like she made it to at least ten before I finally reached my own climax. Just before I came, I pulled out and rubbed myself between her butt cheeks, thrusting and sliding the bottom of my cock against her smooth skin, and when I ejaculated, I surprised myself by exploding so hard that most of the shot arced over her head to splatter on the wall behind us; only as the throbbing subsided and the last few squirts came out, did a few drops land on her back. Spent, I slid my throbbing wand back into her love sheath, and we collapsed onto the cot, snuggled up into each other. Glancing over, I saw the door silently close, but not before I caught a glimpse of Rose's wild Cheshire grin. Just before we fell asleep, I covered Marjorie's neck with kisses, and she gripped my hand and hugged it to her chest; she mumbled something I couldn't quite make out, but it sounded a lot like 'love you Stan'.

I woke an hour or so later, still stiff, to discover Marjorie and her swimsuit both gone from my room. As I glanced down at my erect penis to congratulate it, I recalled that just before I woke, I had been dreaming about Marjorie sucking me. Maybe it hadn't been a dream; maybe she really had sucked me as I slept, and that's what woke me up. What a pleasant alarm clock that would be... I rolled over to get up and was startled by the sight of Rose sitting in the corner, legs tucked up underneath her and a gooey smile on her face. She was licking her lips as if savoring the taste of something that had recently crossed them, and she grinned like a maniac and said, "About time, you lazybones. Was wondering what it took to wake you... UP," punctuating her remark by holding her fist toward me and popping the index finger up and out to depict an erection. "You're as hard as a rock, Jack. Think you have one more load in you?" she said coyly. After double-checking that my door was locked, she slipped out of her clothes and climbed up on my chest, facing my erection, sliding her gorgeous little butt up until my face was buried in it. I had no choice but to start licking and sucking on her precious coochie, while she put my cock and balls through a fantastic regimen of squeezing and twisting, with a generous amount of tongue work applied to the tip. It felt like it took forever, but I was finally ready to shoot again. When I told Rose, she quickly moved around until she was kneeling between my legs, pumping my cock so fast her little hand was a blur and chanting, "Come on Jack, COME on Jack, come on Jack, COME on Jack", and when I shot my load, it was a repeat of the wall-splatter I had achieved earlier with Marjorie. Rose shrieked with delight when it happened. "I KNEW it," she crowed, "I KNEW I could get you to shoot that far. Wow! You really launched that one, you little rocket!" This last remark was spoken directly to my penis, and she leaned down to take me in her mouth and clean me off with some noisy slurping and sucking. As out of breath as I was, I still managed to gasp, "Holy god, Rose, I love you so much it scares me sometimes." Her giggle was muffled because her mouth was still full.

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