Storiesonline.net
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                               The Shaver
                              by Al Steiner

Copyright© 1999 by Al Steiner


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Description: Jen is a bored high society housewife who knows she's missing something in life, but is unsure what it is. When her free-spirited sister-in-law comes over on an errand one day, a whole new world starts to open up for her.

Codes: MF Mult
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Chapter 1


I parked my 98 Volvo in the garage, using the little remote control gadget clipped to the sun visor to open the door. The car had run us nearly thirty thousand dollars. The house I parked it in had run us nearly three hundred and thirty thousand dollars. It is a two-story, five bedroom with a swimming pool (which we were able to use about six hours out of any given year, this is SEATTLE for Christ's sake), a hot tub and redwood deck. The house is located in one of the most exclusive suburbs of Seattle and I suppose my mother is proud of how far I've come in life. She'd taught me well after all.

I'm attractive and I know it. Ever since I'd begun to develop breasts at thirteen guys have been fawning all over me. My hair is honey blonde and always fashionably styled. My waist is trim, my legs nothing short of fantastic, and my breasts firm and much envied. I get my looks from my mother who was once a contestant in the Miss Washington contest. Mom married a doctor, a brilliant, nerdy cardiologist she'd met her first year as a young nurse just out of school. You can bet your ass that she didn't work as a nurse for a second year. I grew up in these suburbs, attending private schools all of my life and eventually enrolling in WSU as an English major. I worked part- time during these years as a receptionist at a prestigious law school. I didn't need the money of course. Mom and Dad paid for all of my expenses, including my apartment and my car. Mom had secured me the position through a friend of hers figuring that it was a good place to meet a "marriageable" man. She was right. It was there that I'd met David, a fourth year student who was about to graduate near the top of his class.

Though David is certainly not the most attractive man that has ever walked the earth, he's actually kind of dumpy and constantly struggling with his weight, he was certainly the suitor with the biggest potential that had crossed my path. It had been drilled into my head practically since birth to marry rich. Back then I measured a man's worth by his present or future earnings, not by how I felt about him. I put on my charms and David was putty in my hands. By the time he'd entered his first year of practice as a corporate lawyer, we were married and I'd dropped out of college to become a full time housewife and attractive ornament for my husband.

I play my part well. I keep our house nice and neat in case David's colleagues decide to stop by when they're not working eighty-hour weeks. I keep my body trim and attractive by working out at an exclusive gym with a personal trainer three times a week. I play gracious host whenever it's my turn to host a party at our house. I flirt lightly with his superiors, making them envious of the "good woman" their pet lawyer managed to bag. David expects to make partner in another five years or so, a promotion that will allow us to move into a more exclusive suburb and buy more expensive cars.

It's probably just as well that David spends so much time away from the house. You see, though I love my house and my neighborhood, and though I love the two children this marriage has produced with all of my heart, I simply don't love David. I never have I suppose. There was a time when I thought I did but some simple self-examination has revealed that it was his money and earnings that I loved. David himself is difficult to talk to. I don't believe I've ever had a meaningful conversation with him. His attitude is condescending towards me, as if I'm simply a dumb blonde incapable of grasping whatever it is that he is discussing. The most conversation I get out of him is when he wants some sex, something that has died out considerably since my last pregnancy. Even then he is a disappointment. Sex with David usually takes all of ten minutes from initial foreplay to his contented snores. In our entire courtship and marriage my own hand has produced the only orgasms I've had.

At times I've considered having an affair. My personal trainer for one, an exquisitely fit twenty-five year old whose body is comparable to anything Michaelangelo ever carved has sent me vibes from the first day I'd met him that he would be partial to a little extra-marital activity with me. I instinctively know that he would be good in bed but something keeps me from taking that step. Perhaps it's his personality. Vick is as dumb as a post, dumber perhaps. He knows nothing except what body parts are best enhanced by which exercises. Conversing with him is about as stimulating as watching a city council meeting on cable television.

I have my routine. I get up each morning, shower, and drink a few cups of coffee to jerk my brain into gear. By this time David is always off to work. I get my children dressed in their designer, name-brand clothes and drive them to the private academy where they go to school, where they've already started their long road in learning to be like their mother or their father. I chat for a while with the other mothers, some of whom are David's colleague's wives. When I return home I eat a little breakfast, usually something like cottage cheese or a bagel with fat-free cream cheese on it. Can't have any unsightly fat clinging to me, can we? I do my housework and, if it's one of those three days, I go for my workout. Afterwards I have lunch, some fat-free soup or some mayonnaise-free tuna. I've been known to sip a glass or two or three of white wine during this part of the day. Oh hell, let's be honest here, I drink a lot of wine every day during this period, always becoming strongly buzzed and requiring an afternoon nap. After the nap I pick up the kids and start preparing dinner. As often as not, David is not with us for dinner. At least half the time he doesn't come home until well after the kids are in bed. If David is not home by the kids' bedtime I will read a few chapters out of some steamy romance novels I keep hidden for just such occasions and then rub my pussy until I have a sharp, faintly satisfying orgasm. Such is my life. The next day the whole thing starts over.

It's certainly not the fairy-tale existence the characters in my novels live but it's tolerable. We're well into the upper-middle-class. My husband is a respected lawyer on his way up the ladder. Our family is in good standing in the community. This is everything I'd ever dreamed about, right?

When I walked into the house, still wearing the spandex from my Monday workout, the phone was ringing. I ignored it, heading towards my bedroom so I could change out of my sweaty clothes and take a nice, refreshing bath before lunch. I was feeling extremely horny that day, a result of watching the bulge in Vic's extra tight shorts for the last two hours, and wanted nothing more than to strategically place my pussy next to one of the powerful jets in our bathtub Jacuzzi attachment while I rubbed my clit. This was an activity that I'd recently discovered and it was quickly becoming my favorite masturbation technique.

As I turned on the water in the tub and prepared to strip out of my workout clothes the answering machine kicked into operation.

"Hello," Came my voice from the speaker next to my bed. "You've reached the Brentlings' residence. We're unable to come to the phone right now but if you leave your name and number at the beep, we'll get back to you just as soon as we can."

"BEEP" said the machine.

I gave my wet pussy a quick stroke through my shorts while I went through which fantasy I should indulge in today. The kind, considerate, respectful Mel Gibson? The articulate and caring Brad Pitt? The deep and insightful Dennis Quaid?

"Hi Jen," Came the voice of my sister-in-law, Charlene from the answering machine's speaker. "It's Charlie," She said, using the nickname that her parents and David refused to use. Brentlings did not HAVE nicknames I'd learned. I was always Jennifer. Charlie was always Charlene. "I wanted to know if I could... "

I took two steps to the nightstand and picked up the phone, pleased. I'd always liked Charlie, David's younger sister, and the baby of that particular family. She was most definitely not carved from the same mold as the rest of that clan. Charlie was twenty-three on that day. To her family's horror and disbelief, she'd dropped out of college four years ago, without even having met a marriageable man, and had enrolled in a paramedic school. She was still single and worked as a paramedic in the City of Seattle, a profession that brought frequently told shame to the rest of the family. She was still single at twenty-three! She was still WORKING for a living at twenty-three! She was only making civil service wages at her job!

I liked her immensely because she was the most independent and bright female I'd ever met. She scoffed at the lifestyle she was supposed to have been indoctrinated into, choosing a profession and a life that she enjoyed instead of tagging along in the footsteps of her family. She always seemed happy when I talked to her, contented. How I envied her happiness, how I longed to look forward to each day like she did.

David of course was distant with her. He was friendly with her but kept contact to a minimum. Charlie was the proverbial black sheep of the family and they were incapable of supporting her in her strange (to them) pursuits. At family get-togethers such as Christmas and Easter, Charlie was hounded constantly by her parents and two older siblings about when she was going to get this "paramedic phase" out of her life and start looking for the "proper man". "Your looks won't last forever you know" her mother always advised her. Charlie took these rebuffs well, never yelling or screaming, never offering any assurances, but always leaving as soon as she could get away with.

Of course I agreed with my husband when he ranted about her, after all, I'm the obedient, faithful wife, but inside I respected her more than any other member of either her family or mine. Charlie was a REAL person, someone who'd carved herself a niche in this world all by herself.

"Charlie?" I said quickly, cutting her off in mid-message.

"Hey Jen." She said happily. "Glad you're home. I hate leaving messages on goddamn answering machines."

Like always, she said exactly what was on her mind, another trait I respected. "What's up?" I asked.

"Well," She said cheerfully, "Its April 12 you know, three days before that magic day."

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

"Tax day." She explained.

"Ohhhh." I knew about April 15 only from literature and news programs. My family and David's family always had their taxes done by CPAs long before the deadline. If money was owed it was sent out by the same CPAs on the deadline day. If money was due it was sent out as soon as the taxes were done. None of this had ever been a concern of mine.

"Anyway," Charlie continued. "As is my usual routine, I haven't even looked at my W-2 until today. In any case I need to do my taxes."

"You want to use our CPA?" I asked, giving the only answer that could come to my brain. I didn't know how much our CPA charged but I was sure it was more than Charlie, with her meager income, could afford.

She laughed. "No," She answered. "I was just wondering if I could use your computer for an hour or so. I'll do the taxes myself."

Do the taxes herself? Was such a thing even possible? "Uh, sure." I finally answered. "You can do them on our computer?"

"Goddamn right I can." She answered. "I bought a program that does them for thirty bucks but I don't have a computer to use it on. So what do you say? You gonna be home today?"

"Yes." I answered, wondering if she was pulling my leg or not. A computer program that did your taxes for thirty dollars? If such a thing existed, why did David spend hundreds to have a CPA do them? "Come over any time."

"How 'bout right now?" She asked.

I looked at the filling bathtub with envy for a moment, silently saying goodbye to my rub session. Oh well, maybe later. "Sure." I said. "I'll be home until I have to pick up the kids."

"I'll be over in about a half hour." She told me.

Instead of rubbing my cunt to the image of Mel or Brad, I picked up the slight mess in the house instead. When the doorbell chimed thirty minutes later the house was spotless (as I'd been trained to have it when guests were coming over) but I was still wearing my sweaty spandex.

"Charlie." I greeted her with genuine friendliness. "Good to see you."

We exchanged a friendly hug. "How you doin' Jen?" She asked, taking in my apparel. "Workout today?"

I nodded. "You know how it is." I said.

"Oh yeah," She answered, coming into the formal living room and closing the door behind her. "I have to run and do sit-ups every day too. Keeps me in shape for my job. We do a lot of heavy lifting you know."

I nodded, unable to even conceive of doing lifting, light or heavy.

Charlie was dressed in a pair of tight blue jeans and a sweater. Her jeans showed off her trim body well, a body that any dentist, doctor, lawyer, or corporate accountant would propose to in an instant. Her dark hair was ragged however. Windblown from exposure to the outside and slightly damp from the light rain that was falling (in Seattle, light rain was always falling, if it wasn't, then it was heavy rain). Her face was pretty, even without make-up. I wondered if she had any idea how attractive she was capable of making herself if she took the time to apply a little cosmetics and fix her long hair a bit. Her eyes were dark blue, the color of the sea and stared around the room with a worldly cynicism that I was incapable of even imagining. She carried two bags in her hands, one of paper and one of white plastic and marked with the logo of a local computer supply store. I could see a box inside of the latter.

"Davie at work?" She asked as I led her across the bottom floor to the office where the computer was kept.

I nodded. "Where else?"

She chuckled. "Just as well I suppose. I'm not his favorite person in the world."

I started to make a token protest but she cut me off. "Please." She said. "I have no illusions about the opinions my family holds for me. I'll just get my taxes done and head out before brother-dear gets home from work."

I went up to take a shower while she was working on her taxes. I thought about rubbing myself off but simply couldn't concentrate on a fantasy long enough. Eventually I toweled off and began the long procedure of putting my make-up and clothes on so I could look respectable when I picked the kids up later.

When I came back downstairs Charlie was still working in the computer room. I didn't want to drink my normal allotment of wine while she was there but I couldn't keep myself from having at least a glass of it. As I poured, I called out to her, "Charlie, do you want a glass of wine?"

"Yeah." She said hungrily. "Bring it on!"

I brought her a glass of wine and then sat down on the leather couch in the room to watch her while she worked. Our computer, which was a mystery to me, was allegedly the latest, greatest model available. We upgraded it once a year. It was contained within a solid oak roll-top desk that had cost up nearly three thousand dollars. The surface of the desk currently had a scattering of official looking paperwork on it, the monitor filled with a maze of financial figures. Charlie took the glass absently and sipped out it while punching in figures that she was reading off of the forms before her.

We didn't talk much but simply sat there, her hard at work, me sipping out of my rapidly diminishing glass of wine. The alcohol was going straight to my head and I slipped out twice to refill my glass before Charlie even made it halfway through her first. She made no comment on this.

"Fuckin' cool!" She finally screamed, startling me.

"What?" I asked.

"I get six hundred and twelve bucks back from those fuckers." She proclaimed happily. "Thank God. I thought I'd owe 'em this year."

To me six hundred and twelve dollars was a pittance. I'd paid more the week before for a dress to go out to one of my husband's firm's parties. But Charlie was obviously excited about it.

"Well good for you." I told her. "What are you going to spend it on?"

"Bills." She said sadly. "What the hell else?"

Bills? I did not even have a concept of that. We sat in silence again while she executed some commands on the computer and the laser printer in the corner of the desk began churning out forms. While this was happening she began moving the mouse around on the pad and the computer screen changed over to the opening display. She moved it across something and a menu popped up. Just as she was about to move on she paused, her eyes widening.

"Well what have we got here?" She said more to herself than me.

"What's that?" I asked out of politeness than anything else.

"Shaved jay-peg?" She said, as if reciting. "Barepuss jay-peg? Cindy jay-peg? Baldy jay-peg?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, not having the slightest idea.

"Somebody," She said knowingly, "Left a lot of jay-pegs in the personal history folder."

"What's a jay-peg?" I asked. "What's a personal history folder?"

She gave me a pitying glance. "Pictures." She answered. "Usually of the pornographic variety if they're on the computer. Looks like Dave's been doin' a little more than his books on this thing."

"Pictures?" I asked, still not getting it.

"Digital images that are downloaded from the Internet." Charlie explained. "There's a shitload of them out there." She smiled sweetly. "Shall we take a little look?"

"David downloading porno pictures?" I asked. "You must be mistaken."

"Oh yeah?" She asked. She moved the mouse and clicked it two times. The screen lit up with a picture of a young brunette woman lying naked on a bed. Her pussy was shaved bald, displaying her pouting vaginal lips for the world to see.

I gasped. "Where did that come from?" I was shocked.

"There's more." Charlie told me. She began clicking with the mouse and different pictures began appearing on the screen. Some were blonde, some brunette, some redheads, a few were even black. They were in a variety of poses and positions. But all had their pubic regions neatly shaved.

"Looks like brother-dear is into shaved pussies." She commented, clearing the last picture away.

"This is unbelievable!" I cried, flabbergasted. It had never occurred to me that my husband possessed such pictures. I'd thought he was completely disinterested in sex.

To my astonishment Charlie slid out of the chair and knelt on the floor. She ran her hand over the Berber carpet beneath the desk. "Uh huh." She said slyly.

"What?" I demanded.

"Come here." She told me, beckoning for me to kneel beside her. I did so and she took my hand in hers, rubbing it across the fabric of the carpet. There were several rough spots in the generally smooth floor covering. "You feel that?" She asked.

"What is it?" I asked, confused.

"It's come." She told me.

I jerked my hand away as if it had been burned, disgusted with the mental image that had come into my brain.

"He sits here quite often," Charlie said, "Looking at pictures of shaved women and pumping his python. What you got here is your basic accumulation of dried come from multiple sessions." She grinned. "I had a boyfriend once that did the same thing. Only he was into pictures of pregnant chicks." She shook her head sadly. "It's amazing how little guys think we know about computers. David didn't even try to hide these, they're right there in the documents folder, same place I found Mark's collection."

I stared at her, my mind whirring with conflicting emotions. Finally I came to a decision. "I need another glass of wine." I said.

Charlie chuckled and followed me to the kitchen where I retrieved a fresh bottle out of our top-of-the-line Whirlpool. I poured us each a glass and we took them into the family room, sitting down on the couches.

"Don't sweat it too much." Charlie advised me. "It's just guys for you. They're always thinking about what they don't got. I bet that the freakin' pope even has a computer that he whacks off to. Sure as shit every guy I ever dated was into porno." She shrugged. "It's no big deal."

I was appalled. "Didn't you leave the guy you were dating when you found out what he was doing?"

"Hell no." She said. "I left him eventually because he was an asshole, but not for that. Shit, I had him show me how to do it." She gave me a sly look. "There's pictures of guys on there too. You oughtta check the 'Latino' newsgroup. Fuck me, talk about some serious crank handling."

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation." I proclaimed to the air. It was bad enough to find out that my husband was downloading porn but to find out that his sister did it too?

"Don't be such a prude." Charlie told me. "You ever try shavin' yourself to see if he likes it?"

"No!" I yelled. "Why would I do that?"

"Why wouldn't you?" She countered. "It's a common fantasy among guys. The bare beaver. I've shaved for boyfriends before and they always go apeshit over it. I've gotten the best pussy eatings of my life after shaving. They like to dive right into a baldy."

"Really?" I asked, starting to become more interested now. The only time David had ever put his mouth to my vagina had been when we were still dating and he had been very drunk. Even then he'd spent less than a minute down there. Sometimes I yearned for a skillful tongue between my legs. If I shaved myself would he maybe go down on me? Would he maybe even give me an orgasm for the first time in our relationship? Would this maybe improve our relationship a little, providing the spice that was needed? I became intrigued.

"Sure." Charlie told me, taking a large gulp out of her wine. "I bet if you shaved old Davie would be so turned on that he'd give you a munching fit for a queen. Fuck the shit out of you too. Try it." She encouraged.

"Okay." I blurted, the wine fueling my decision. "I will." A thought occurred to me. "But how do I do it? Do I just use a razor or what?"

She laughed. "Girl, it's a good thing I'm here. If you just go running a razor through your crotch you're gonna have one sore, bleeding pussy."

"Well what do I do?"

"You need to," She paused. "The first thing is to... " She shook her head. "How 'bout I just help you do it?"

"You mean... ?"

"C'mon Jen," She said, standing up and polishing off her wine. "We're both girls and we both have the same equipment. I'll help you so you don't hurt yourself."

"Well," I hesitated and then agreed. "Okay."

She took me upstairs to the master bathroom. She had me gather up the razor I used to shave my legs with, a pair of scissors, a can of shaving cream that David kept in the back of the linen closet for those times when his electric razor was broken, a couple of washcloths, a large towel, and a bottle of baby lotion. She ran some hot water in the sink and set the towel on the edge of the bathtub. She pulled the wicker wastebasket next to the edge of the towel. The rest of the supplies she neatly arranged on the sink cabinet.

"Okay." She told me, sitting on the floor before the tub. "Bare that beaver and lets take off the fur."

I was struck with a major attack of modesty right then. It was a combination of her crude term and the fact that she was kneeling on the floor before the spot that I was about to sit with my privates revealed. "I need another glass of wine first." I told her, dashing from the bathroom, hearing her chuckle as I departed.

I was already quite buzzed but I needed to be a little more so for this. I took a huge swig directly from the wine bottle, the Chardonnay burning as it traveled down my gullet. I took the time to wonder what my mother would think if she'd seen me do that. I took another quick swig and then filled up my glass, carrying it back upstairs with me. Only then did I feel I could disrobe without dying of embarrassment.

Charlie remained silent as I unsnapped my pants and pushed them down. I stripped off my panties and tossed them on top of the pants. I then sat down on the edge of the tub, on the towel she'd put there.

"Jen," She said, "For Christ sake, how am I supposed to shave you when your legs are crossed?"

I looked down seeing that I'd indeed crossed my legs, hiding the object that we were attempting to do work upon. Smiling modestly, more embarrassed than I'd probably ever been in my life, I spread them revealing my crotch to her gaze. It was strange. I'd never been modest about my private parts before. I knew my bush and pussy looked good and was something that men were constantly fantasizing about and dying to get into. But Charlie wasn't a man and she was kneeling at face level right in front of me. I felt exposed before her like I'd never felt before, not even in the gynecologist's office.

"You don't need to be embarrassed." Charlie told me, picking up the scissors. "You have a beautiful pussy and you should be proud of it. You oughtta see some of the shit I have to look at at work."

"You have to look at... vaginas at work?" I asked as she pushed my thighs further apart, spreading me wider.

She hissed air between her teeth. "Shit," She told me. "All the freakin' time. Women call us for vaginal bleeds, miscarriages, childbirth, venereal disease problems. Shit, you name it. And every time they complain of some vaginal problem I have to take a look at it. Believe me when I say that not every one in the world is into personal hygiene. I've almost barfed a few times."

"You mean, they don't clean themselves?" I asked while she grabbed a pinch of my blonde pubic hair and began snipping at it with the scissors. My hair fell softly onto the towel beneath me.

"Jen, let me tell you something about where I work." She said, continuing to snip away at me, making the pile of blonde hair grow. "Most of our business is in neighborhoods that you and Dave would never dream of entering. Those people have an entirely different set of standards than we do. I've managed to hold onto my sanity after doing this job only by continually telling myself that they are a different species than me. Sometimes it seems that they are completely incapable of self-disgust. How else can you let a yeast infection ferment until your pussy is actually bleeding from it? How else can you... "

"I think I've heard enough about the pussies that you deal with." I interrupted desperately, not wanting to hear any more about it. The comment about her almost barfing had already given me more of a mental image than I thought I could handle.

"Sorry." She said, grinning and obviously anything but sorry.

As she clipped and snipped my pubic hair as close to the skin as she could get it I became aware of her hands between my legs. They flitted here and there, rhythmically pulling a pinch away from the skin and cutting it. She would then brush it downward where it would join the pile accumulating on the towel. As she trimmed close to my lips themselves I felt her fingers brush against them several times and I marveled that she was able to do something like this to another woman. She was humming under her breath as she worked on me.

"Okay, part two." She said when as much of my hair as was feasible was trimmed away. She picked up the washcloth and dipped it into the hot water in the sink.

I looked down at my crotch while she did this. Already it looked vastly different than what I was used to. My thick growth of hair was a pile on the towel, leaving only blonde fuzz less than an eight of an inch or so. My lips, I saw, were already more pronounced. Would David really like this? Would he eat me to orgasm when he saw it? If he did it would be well worth the embarrassment I was now experiencing.

Charlie laid the hot, steamy washcloth over my crotch, wetting it thoroughly. I couldn't help but feel a strong tinge of sexual arousal at the contact. I did not associate this feeling with Charlie, only with the sensation of heat and wetness on my most sensitive part. I WAS still horny from earlier, still awaiting relief. I vowed that the instant Charlie left I would give myself a long, soothing rub to release the tension.

She set the washcloth aside and picked up the can of shaving cream. She squirted some into the palm of her hand and then, with the fingers of her other hand, began smearing it all over my crotch, covering all of the fuzz that remained. Her fingers rubbed softly on me, working the cream in and, as she neared the portions closest to my vaginal lips, I felt my horniness kick up considerably. I wasn't becoming aroused by the feel of her fingers down there was I? Of course not, I assured myself. I'm just horny from earlier and anticipating future sexual episodes as a result of what my sister-in-law was doing.

When my crotch was completely covered with white foam, which I noted, gave off a considerable heat of its own, she rinsed off her hands in the sink and picked up the razor.

"Let's start with the top." She said, reaching forward.

She quickly scraped off the largest accumulation of hair and shaving cream with a few gentle but practiced strokes of the razor, leaving the skin beneath smooth and slightly reddened from the friction. When the top was done she began working on the sides, moving from the outside in. After every two or three swipes she would dip the razor in the water, cleaning it. As she got closer to my slit she was forced to grasp each lip between two fingers to pull it tight enough to shave. Her fingertips were slightly rough but they were pleasingly gentle. Too pleasingly. Tingles emanated through my crotch and I felt myself getting wet. I could no longer tell myself that this was simply anticipation of later events. Her hands were turning me on!

Strange emotions flitted through my head as I realized this. Charlie was a woman! Never in my life had I been attracted to women. Never once had I considered that I might like having a woman touch me between my legs. But I could feel myself becoming wetter by the second as her fingers tugged and pulled at my lips, from left to right, from bottom to top, scraping the hair away with my razor. Did Charlie know what she was doing to me? I wondered with fresh horror.

I was only able to convince myself that she was unaware of the effect she was having on me for a minute or so. By then my secretions had made my lips so slippery that she had trouble keeping her grip on them. Several times they slipped out of her grasp, making her put more pressure on them to keep hold and increasing my arousal due to the increase in touch. Twice her fingers slipped inside of me as she struggled to get a good grip and each time I had to stifle a gasp of surprised delight at the sensation. I was able to smell myself now, the fresh, willing odor of pheromones drifting up from my crotch. If I could smell myself, I knew, there was no way that Charlie, whose face was only six inches away from the source, could not. What would she think of me? Would she think me a lesbian? Was I one?

Her face remained impassive as she finished up the last of the shaving, giving me no clue to what she was thinking or feeling. Was it disgust? Pity? Would she suddenly pull her hands back and denounce me as a perverted woman?

As she carefully removed the fuzz around the bottom of my pussy she had to insert her index finger a centimeter or so inside in order to pull that area tight. Again she had trouble with her grip since I was now drooling secretions. My clit was poking out of its hood like a ground squirrel looking out of its hole. It was pink and swollen and I wanted nothing more than to put my fingers to it and start rubbing. The smell of me was thick in the air at this point. Once her knuckle brushed quickly over the top of my clit, making me jump and sending a brief wave of pleasure shooting through my stomach.

"Sorry." Charlie said absently. "Hope I didn't hurt you."

"No." I said, shaking my head. I felt myself licking my lips and forced myself to stop before Charlie got the wrong idea. My hands were clenched tightly into fists and my body seemed to be breaking out in gooseflesh.

Finally she was finished with the razor. She rinsed it in the water and set it aside. She picked up the washcloth once more and, using slow, firm strokes, she wiped away all of the residual shaving cream and hair fragments that remained. As she stroked me with the cloth my arousal increased to a higher level as the rough cotton slipped over my lips, my pubis, my clit. My hips involuntarily jerked a few times, actions that Charlie seemed not to notice. She set the cloth in the sink when she was done.

"Viola." She said, leaning back a little. "What do you think?"

I looked down at myself and saw a smooth, unmarred crotch. It was weird. I was so used to seeing hair down there that it was a little like looking at someone else's pussy. I now looked like one of the women in David's porno pictures. My lips were very swollen and my clit was as erect as I'd ever seen it before. I was immensely horny now, part of me actually saddened that Charlie was finished, part of me glad that she was. But she wasn't.

"We need to put some baby lotion on it." She said, picking up that bottle. "Or it'll itch and burn."

Now I have to admit that a big part of me must have WANTED what happened next. If that wasn't the case, I would have taken the bottle from her hands, thanked her for her help, and put the lotion on myself. But I didn't. I simply nodded wisely and kept my hands at my sides.

Charlie brought the bottle to my crotch and tipped it upside down, squirting the clear liquid on my pubis. It was cold and slimy. It dribbled downward with gravity, running over my clit and my lips and finally to the towel beneath me. It felt absolutely divine.

She began rubbing the lotion into my recently shaved skin, making tight circles with her fingers, massaging and kneading it. There were no more accidental insertions. Her fingers slipped deliciously over my lips, rubbed them and then slid deeply inside of me, all the way past her second knuckle. I gasped with pure pleasure at the contact. Not since college and Rick Hackmeyer's skillful sex had I felt anything close to what Charlie was doing to me. She slid in and out, the edge of her finger sliding over the sensitive top of my vaginal entrance. I moaned a little and my hips began undulating, pushing towards her fingers, my vaginal muscles involuntarily grasping and trying to pull them in deeper. What was happening to me? Charlie was a woman!

Suddenly she leaned forward and her mouth was upon me, her fingers retreating. Her tongue slid between my slippery lips, probing towards my cervix. I looked down in astonishment and lust, seeing her dark-haired head resting firmly between my legs. I knew I should stop her from doing this, that this was perverted, that I would regret this later, but I couldn't. Her tongue felt better than anything I'd ever experienced before.

She licked up and down, gliding with just the right amount of pleasure. I moaned and panted, running my fingers through her silky hair. She began to make little stabs at my clit, each one making me grind my crotch into her face, making me long for more contact.

When she took my clit between her lips and began sucking upon it my legs came around her back, pulling her tightly to me. Her hands felt my legs, my thighs while she sucked on me. Waves of intense pleasure filled my stomach. This was nothing like masturbating. Masturbation was a pitiful substitute compared to this.

The orgasm built rapidly as she continued to apply suction to my most sensitive part. My hips jerked up and down and she had to forcibly hold onto me to keep me in place. I heard a high pitched whine coming from my mouth and suddenly the orgasm was upon me, having its way with me. I believe I screamed in pure pleasure as Charlie grunted out encouragement from between my legs.

When it was over she lifted her face from my crotch and smiled up at me. I was panting and sweaty, trying to recover from the most powerful and pleasurable orgasm of my entire life. I was trying to deal with the fact that my sister-in- law, a woman, had been the one to give it to me. Would she now expect me to do the same in return? I didn't think I could do it. The thought of putting my face into her crotch and licking her... Well, I figured. It wouldn't actually... 

But she asked for no such thing in return. Her own face was dripping with my secretions. She had a strange smile on her face as she stood up.

"All done." She proclaimed. "I think Dave's gonna like it." She gave it a long glance (my legs were still widely spread). "Yep, I really think he's going to." She took a deep breath. "I'll let you get dressed while I go gather up my tax stuff. I'd better get going soon."

"Charlie?" I started, confused, nearly delirious, not sure what I was going to say.

"He'll love it Jen." She proclaimed, heading out the door. "Trust me."

Ten minutes later she was gone. Neither one of us mentioned what had just happened but she told me to call her and let her know how David reacted to my new look. I promised her that I would.

David LOVED my shaved pussy when I showed it to him later that night. By then I had put what had happened between his sister and I in perspective. I classified it as simple lesbian experimentation, something that I'd read teenaged girls often do. Charlie and I had just done it a little later in life. What was the harm? It hadn't been like I'd cheated or anything, had it?

My husband dove on my pussy with his mouth when he got a gander of it. He licked and sucked it for nearly twenty minutes, making contented grunting noises all the time. But he never touched my clit unless it was accidental. When he tired of licking it he climbed on top of me and fucked me brutally for about ninety seconds before his seed was shooting up into me. Five minutes after that, he was asleep.

As he snored away I crept out of bed and into the living room, wearing nothing but my short robe. His semen dribbled out of me as I lay on the couch. My clit was still throbbing from arousal so I put my hand between my legs and started rubbing. The image that came into my brain was of Charlie rubbing me with baby oil and finally eating me. The orgasm was nearly as powerful as the one she'd given me.

For the next three nights David licked and fucked me the moment he got home. Each time he failed to make me come and I had to rub myself off thinking about Charlie. The fourth night he went to bed as he usually did. The fifth, sixth, seventh, and eight nights were the same.

By then the hair was starting to grow back and I itched all of the time. I wondered if maybe I should call Charlie and see if she could come over to trim me down again.



-------

Chapter 2


After David lost interest in me once again I waited for nearly three weeks, until the middle of May, before I worked up the nerve to call Charlie again. I told myself that I only wanted her help shaving again but I knew deep inside that was not really the reason. For one, I'd watched her do it and could easily have done it myself. For two, David was no longer even interested in my shaved pussy, which was now well on it's way to growing back. What I really wanted, part of me was forced to admit, was for her to put her mouth upon me again, to lick me and make me feel the way I'd felt after she'd smeared me with baby oil and eaten me.

I didn't think I was a lesbian. The thought that I was craving the touch of another woman filled me with shame and dread. But I couldn't help myself. I picked up the phone and started dialing her number perhaps two dozen times, always slamming the receiver back down before Charlie's phone had a

chance to ring. What was I doing? I'd ask myself. Was I really trying to invite a woman, my husband's sister no less, over to my house in the hopes that she would eat my pussy? WAS I a lesbian? Was I?

At night, after the children were in bed, but before David came home from the office I would lie naked upon my bed, my fingers rubbing through my wet pussy, pushing into my clit. Going through my mind on these occasions were not fantasies of Mel Gibson or Brad Pitt but of Charlie, of her rough fingers smearing baby oil all over my crotch, of her fingers sliding into my smoothly shaven slit, probing deliciously into my depths, of her mouth finally attaching itself to me, licking and sucking. I found myself wondering what it would be like to strip Charlie's clothes off and return the favor, to put my own face between her legs, my own tongue into her slit. My orgasms were always powerful. My guilt and shame afterword was always deep.

Finally, one day, I could take it no more. Or so I thought. Determined to go through with it, I picked up the phone and dialed her number, keeping the receiver to my ear while it started to ring. My hands were trembling with fear. My pussy was leaking moisture from arousal. It rang two times, three times and my nerves crumbled once again. I slammed the phone back down once more, unable to continue. I was breathing deeply, near tears, emotions assaulting me from all sides.

The phone rang, making me jump. I stared at it for a moment and then reached over and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Jen?" It was Charlie! "Did you just call me and hang up?"

Charlie obviously had caller ID on her phone. I cursed myself for not having thought of that. After all, we had it on our own phone. For a moment I was unable to think of a thing to say to her.

"Jen?" She said, her voice lightly irritated. "Hello? Are you there?"

"I'm uh, sorry Charlie." I finally stammered. "I'm here."

"Cool." She said, her voice more pleasant now. "What'd you want? And why'd you hang up after only three rings? Give a girl a chance to get out of bed."

"You were in bed?" I blabbered. "I'm sorry, I'll just call back... "

"I'm up now Jen." She said patiently. "I just got off shift this morning and was catching a little nap. Busy night you know. So, what was it that you wanted?"

I want you to eat my pussy again! My mind screamed, making me shiver. "I uh, well... I was just wondering if maybe, you know, if you weren't doing anything today, if you could maybe, kind of... "

"Kind of what?" She asked.

"Well," I said, willing myself to spit it out. "I need to, you know, shave myself again."

"Oh." Charlie said, tonelessly. "How did that work out with David anyway?"

"Okay, I guess." I said. "He, uh, really seemed to like it a lot."

"Did he munch it?" She asked with teasing curiosity.

Not as good as you did, I did not say. "Yes."

"You know Jen," Charlie said seriously. "Sometimes you just go into way too much detail about things, you know that?"

"Sorry." I mumbled, feeling the conversation slipping away from me. "He did like it a lot and he has... licked it a lot. Much more than he ever did before."

"Well good for you." She said.

"But it's growing back." I blurted.

"So shave it again." She said simply. "I taught you how."

I swallowed nervously. "But I'm kinda... kinda scared to do it myself. Could you help me again?"

"Help you again?" She asked pointedly.

"Yes." I answered quietly. "Please?"

There was a long pause, long enough for me to think I'd gone too far, that she would stiffly tell me no and maybe say that it wasn't a good idea for me to call her anymore. I was actually sweating with fear and anticipation.

"Sure." She finally said. "Give me about two more hours to nap and then I'll be over at about," A pause, probably while she consulted the nearest timepiece, "Oh, say twelve o'clock?"

"I'll be waiting." I told her, wondering what I was getting myself into but anxious for the noon hour to roll around none the less.

She showed up precisely at 12:00, pulling her little Volkswagen Jetta into our driveway and walking to the front door where I met her. It was one of those rare beautiful Seattle spring days, we get about two of them each year, and Charlie was dressed to suit the occasion. She wore a white half-shirt with the logo of the Seattle Fire Department printed on it. It showed off her bare midriff, which like most Seattle residents that did not spend time in a tanning salon, was pale in color. Despite this her stomach was smooth and sexy looking, unmarred by the stretchmarks of childbirth. I saw that she wore a silver stud in her navel, something I'd never known about her before. Her legs, also pale, but in exquisite shape and bulging with runner's muscle, were bare beneath a pair of blue shorts. Opened-toed sandals were on her feet, showing manicured and painted toenails. Her long dark hair was in its usual state of wind-blown disarray. Her face was, as always, devoid of make-up, a pair of cheap sunglasses resting on her nose. Her smile was infectious as she greeted me with a warm hug.

"Come in, come in." I told her, releasing her embrace and standing aside. I myself had spent more than an hour making myself presentable this morning. Picking out clothes, showering, putting on my make-up, fixing my hair just right. It wasn't just because of what I hoped would happen with Charlie, I did this every day. No one would ever cast his or her eyes upon Mrs. David Brentling sans make-up and hairdo. God forbid! Despite this I felt myself feeling envious at Charlie's rugged beauty, wind-blown hair and all.

"So," Charlie said, looking at me with her cynical brown eyes. "The beaver getting a little fuzzy again, is it?"

"Charlie!" I barked, suppressing a smile. "My God."

"Let me tell you something Jen," She said, her eyes boring into me. "I don't like to mince words. I like for things to be right out in the open, you know what I mean?"

I swallowed nervously, uncomfortable under her gaze. Finally I nodded. "Yes." I said. "I guess I do." But I didn't. Not then anyway.

I poured us each a glass of wine from my large stockpile of White Zinfandel and Chardonnay. We carried them upstairs to the bathroom where I broke out the towel, the razor, the shaving cream, the washcloth, the scissors, and, most importantly, the baby oil. I set them all carefully down on the counter except for the towel, which I laid across the edge of the tub once again. Already I could feel moisture oozing from between my legs. Looking down at myself, I saw that my nipples were hard beneath my silk blouse. I doubted that Charlie had failed to notice this too, although she said nothing, simply sitting on the toilet lid while I made the preparations.

When I was done I looked at her, smiling nervously. Her gaze was uninterpretable.

"Get those pants off." She said. "And let's get to work."

I nodded, feeling a flush creep up into my neck and face, feeling my pussy get wetter as I unsnapped my pants and pushed them down and off. A slight smile touched Charlie's face as I did this. Looking in the mirror mounted on the door behind her I thought I knew why. There was visible dampness on the crotch of my pink panties. Embarrassed at my obvious arousal I quickly pushed them down. This did not help. The odor of my musk immediately filled the air around us. I saw Charlie's nostrils flare a little and detected the first signs of arousal on HER face.

I sat down on the towel and spread my legs widely, opening myself to her. She didn't look right then however since she was occupying herself with the task of running hot water in the sink. I did see her rub her legs together a few times, as if there was an itch there. When she turned back to me, a hot washcloth in her hand I saw that her nipples were now standing erect, pushing at the material of her half-shirt. Her bare stomach was covered with goosebumps.

"You ready?" She asked softly, her eyes taking in the sight of my pussy, her tongue touching her lips, moistening them. Seeing her tongue made me want to touch it with my own, to suck it into my mouth, to taste it. I hoped I would get to do that before this afternoon was over.

"Yes." I answered, my respiration rapid, visible juice now pooling on my vagina.

"Then let's get started." She said, dropping to her knees before me. "It doesn't look like enough has grown back to use the scissors."

Like before she cleansed and wetted me with gentle strokes of the hot towel. My odor went away due to the cleansing but my lips became more swollen, protruding further out. My clit was already hard and eager. She applied the shaving cream, rubbing it in firmly. This time I knew exactly why I was becoming so aroused and didn't try to make excuses to myself.

She picked up the razor and began shaving me, starting with the top as before, and then working her way to the sides. Again her fingers were forced to enter my slit a little, to pull the lips tight as she shaved. This time I relished the sensation, enjoying the gentle tugs and scrapes of the razor. This part was just the foreplay I knew. The main event would come when she picked up the baby oil. For this I longed with all of my horniness.

When all of the stubble was scraped free once again, leaving my pubic area as shiny and smooth as a baby's ass, she wiped away the excess shaving cream and dropped the towel into the sink. I was as turned on as I'd ever been in my life. Despite having just been wiped clean with a wet rag, I could still smell my lustful odor permeating the room. My lips were wide open, begging for Charlie's fingers and tongue to caress them. My clit was swollen and so hard it was almost painful.

At last Charlie reached over and picked up the bottle of baby oil. She held it before her eyes for a moment as if she'd never seen such a thing. Finally, with a queer smile she stood up.

"All done." She said, tossing the bottle of oil to me. Reflexively I caught it.

"What?" I asked in alarmed shock, thinking, 'you're not going to leave me like this, are you?'

"All done." She repeated. "And a pretty good job if I do say so myself. I'm sure you can put the baby oil on by yourself, can't you?"

"But... " I started, and then stopped. I could not think of a single thing to say. What was she doing? Didn't she know how turned on I was? Didn't she know I wanted her to repeat her last performance? I could plainly see how turned on SHE was. Her nipples were bulging out forcefully and she continually had to rub her legs together. What was she doing to me?

"But what?" Charlie asked, staring at me again. "Don't mince words Jen. Tell me what's on your mind."

I sat there panting for a moment, staring back at her, feeling on the verge of tears. Tears of frustration and arousal. Tears of fear. What did she want from me? Why couldn't she just do what I wanted, what she knew I wanted? Why couldn't we repeat the events of last time without discussion?

She looked sad as she turned towards the door. "I'll be downstairs Jen." She told me. "If you don't mind, I'll help myself to some more wine."

She started to head for the door.

"Wait." I said.

She stopped instantly, turning to look at me once again. I was still sitting on the bathtub, my legs spread wide, shaved smooth, and dripping with secretions. She raised her eyebrows questioningly at me.

"I... " I started, gulping. "I'd really like it if... if you would put the baby oil on me."

"Oh?" She said, walking a little closer. "And why is that?"

"Charlie," I said, nearly sobbing. "I don't... "

"Don't mince words Jen." She repeated. "Tell me what you want. What you need. Just tell me."

"I want to feel your hands on me." I spouted. "I want to feel your fingers inside of me again. Please Charlie, don't let me sit here like this. Please?" I held out the bottle of oil to her desperately.

She smiled and took it from my trembling hands. Once again she sank to her knees before me. She poured the cool oil over my vagina and I sighed deeply as her hand began rubbing it in, slathering all over my pubis, brushing teasingly against my clit.

"So you like my hands on you, do you?" She asked, her fingers now making slight probes between my lips, making me gasp.

"Do you?" She insisted.

"Yes." I breathed, pushing my crotch towards her digits, trying to force them in deeper.

She put her free hand on my hip and then suddenly slid three fingers deep inside of me. They went in with a wet squish I felt more than heard. It was wonderful, fulfilling and I clenched at her fingers hungrily with my vaginal muscles. "Ahhh." I moaned.

"Is that what you wanted Jen?" She asked, pulling them out a little and then sliding them back in slowly. "For me to finger fuck your pussy. Do you like it when your sister-in-law does this? Do you?"

"Yesss!" I groaned loudly, humping her fingers actively now, trying to drive them in.

"What else do you want me to do to you?" She asked. "Just ask and I'll do it."

"Ohhh God, Charlie, please? You know what I want. Please?"

"Ask me." She repeated. "All you have to do is ask."

"Eat me!" I screamed, in a fit of lust now. I was willing to do anything if she would just put her mouth upon me. "Please Charlie? Eat my pussy! Make me come. Please?"

Slowly she slid her fingers from me, her eyes staring into mine. She smiled. "That's better." She said. "Doesn't it feel better to say what you want? To cast aside innuendo?"

"Charlie please?" I pleaded. "Eat me! Put your tongue in me!"

She stood up, holding her hand out to me. "Let's go in the bedroom." She said. "Where we can do this the right way."

I took her hand and allowed her to lead me to the king-sized bed in the master bedroom, the bed I shared with her brother, my husband. It was neatly made of course. I would have no more have allowed a guest over with a bed unmade then I would have allowed unmatched China at a formal dinner party. We stared in each other's eyes as we stood at the foot of the bed.

"You want me to make love to you?" She asked. "To fuck you?"

I nodded sheepishly.

"What?" She asked.

"Yes." I finally said.

"Take off my shirt." She told me.

I reached for her and grabbed the hem of her half-shirt. I pulled upward, lifting it over her head and letting it fall to the floor. Her breasts were confined in a plain white bra. She turned around slowly, allowing me access to the snap that held it in place. I ran my hands over the smooth flesh of her back, marveling over the soft feel of female flesh beneath my fingers. I grabbed the snap and released it. Her bra loosened and she allowed it to drop off of her shoulders to the floor.

She turned around again, allowing me to gaze upon her breasts. I've seen a lot of breasts in my time that were not my own. What woman hasn't? We see each other in dressing rooms, in locker rooms all of the time. Never had I paid those breasts much attention. If I did, it was only to compare them to mine. Never had I felt the urges within me that I felt when I saw Charlie's tits before me for the first time. They were smaller than mine, slightly firmer, capped with larger nipples that were standing erect. I longed to put my mouth upon them, to suck them, to lick them. I longed to squeeze them, to feel their pliancy.

"Well?" Charlie asked, thrusting them out at me.

"They're beautiful Charlie." I told her.

"Do you want to touch them?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Then do it Jen." She said. "My body is yours right now. Do what you want. Do anything you want."

I reached out and put my hands against her tits, feeling them against my palms. She pushed her chest forward and moaned with the contact. I felt the tips of her nipples pushing against my hands, felt the softness of her flesh as I squeezed. Her hands came up and rested on my shoulders.

I sat down on the bed and pulled her to me. This left her tits exactly at the level of my mouth. My lips began kissing the top of her tits, switching from left to right, avoiding the nipples for now, feeling the softness of femininity against my mouth, inhaling the scent of a female body in intimacy for the first time in my life. I kissed all around her breasts, working my way from the outside to the center, finally capturing her right nipple in my mouth. It was firm and hard, covered with ridges and bumps that rubbed against my tongue. She moaned her pleasure as I suckled like a baby, her fingers running through my styled hair, mussing it in a way I never allowed my husband to do (my hair was OFF-LIMITS during sex with David, a rule I'd established even before marriage). My hands caressed her smooth back for a moment and then dropped down, brushing across her ass, which was still covered with her shorts (but oh so firm beneath my hands) and to the backs of her bare thighs. I felt the flesh of her legs, feeling the bulging muscles, the fine array of downy hair that grew there. I ran my hand upward, trailing under the leg of her shorts, twisting my hand inward so it was between her legs, against the flesh of her inner thighs.

The back of my hand pushed against the material of her shorts, finding it damp. She gasped at the pressure, her fingers tightening in my hair. My thumb poked upwards, seeking and finding the edge of her panties, worming beneath them, feeling kinky hair and warm wetness, finally probing between smooth, very wet lips.

"Oh God Jen." Charlie gasped, her legs spasming.

I drove my thumb upward, sliding all the way inside of her, marveling at the feel of having a part of my body inserted inside of another woman's vagina, liking the squishing sensation of penetration. Charlie's hips began to move up and down, trying to increase the pressure. I knew, as a woman, that what I was doing to her would feel good. I knew what would feel even better and I began to twist my wrist, pushing on the outside of her crotch while grinding the thumb inside of her. I moved my mouth to the other breast, finding it just as tasty as its neighbor.

Charlie suddenly pulled away from me, disengaging contact. I wondered if she was feeling remorse but was relieved when I saw the lust in her eyes. She kicked off her shoes and dropped her shorts and panties in one swift motion. Her black, curly bush was not shaved but was neatly trimmed. Her lips were pouting outward and I felt myself licking my lips as I thought about licking her between her legs, making her come.

Once naked she walked towards me purposefully. Her hands reached out and grabbed my blouse near the breasts. She inserted her fingers into the gaps between the buttons and pulled sharply. Buttons popped free and shot in all directions throughout the room. My bra-clad tits were now exposed, my hundred- dollar blouse now a ripped ruin but I didn't care. She reached behind me and jerked the strap of my bra open, destroying it too. She pulled it from my body and cast it aside.

We stared at each other, naked, wet, lustful. She reached out, putting her hands on my shoulders and pushed me to the bed. I went willingly and she laid atop me, pushing her breasts into mine. I could feel their firmness against my own, I could feel the dampness of my clinging saliva on her nipples wetting the tops of my tits. She lowered her mouth to mine and suddenly her tongue was in my mouth, her lips pressed to mine.

She was a great kisser, both soft and insistent at once. She sucked my tongue into her mouth and I did the same. Our saliva went from one mouth to the other. She sucked my lips into her mouth, making them swell. Her right leg twisted under my left and our pussies came together. I felt her kinky hair and her wet lips grinding against my lips and clit, her smooth thigh rubbing against mine. I pushed my crotch back against her, sucking on her tongue now, mashing my tits against her chest.

She moved down my body, trailing kisses across my chest until she came to my breasts. She took a nipple into her mouth and suckled it with such gentleness, such intensity that I felt an orgasm trying to strain free from simply that alone. My tits were beautiful and men lusted after them. I'd had men suck on them all of my life. Never had a mouth upon my nipple felt so divine as Charlie's however.

I reached downward, inserting my hands into her smoothly shaved armpits and pulling upward on her. She came willingly, sliding her crotch along my body, leaving a trail of moisture as she advanced. She knew what I was after and positioned herself accordingly. Soon her hairy vagina was hovering over my face, the scent of her arousal filling my nostrils; a scent so much different, but yet so similar to my own.

I looked at her swollen lips, her protruding clit, at the moisture that was actually dripping off of her, wetting her inner thighs and dampening her pubic hair. I put my hands to her slim waist and pulled downward upon her, planting that beautiful crotch directly onto my face.

Her warm, wet lips smashed against my mouth and I probed my tongue between them, tasting the tart flavor of her juices, feeling the strands of pubic hair against my lips. I tongued up and down, licking in a way I knew would feel good. Charlie's hips began to rise and fall, moans began to come from her vocal cords. I felt her fingers gliding over my stomach, finally reaching my own slit, still slippery from the baby oil, and probing between them, keeping me very interested. I closed my thighs around her hand, trapping it there.

I began to tongue her swollen clit, gently at first, testing its texture, finding it larger than my own and more sensitive apparently. I licked it with the tip of my tongue, feeling every detail of its structure. I felt the smooth outer edges of it, I felt the dip at the top, so much like the shape of a volcano. I stabbed at it a few times and then fastened my lips to it, beginning to suck, forgetting that what I was doing was lesbianism, forgetting that I was married woman with kids, forgetting everything but the reaction of Charlie's body to my actions.

Her hips began to pound more rapidly up and down on my face. Her fingers began to slam with more insistence yet with less actual rhythm inside my snatch. I took a chance on something, doing to Charlie what I'd always wanted done to me but that I'd never had the nerve to ask anyone before. I wormed a finger into her ass cheeks, wetting it thoroughly with her juices, and then touched the bud of her anus.

She gave a little cry of pleasure at this touch but offered no protestations. Encouraged I slowly slid my finger into her tight ass, twisting it as I entered, feeling her muscles gripping me.

"Ohhh," Charlie moaned, her hips banging harder now. "Ohhh God Jen! Ohhhh! Deeper! More!"

I wormed another finger into her ass, pushing both of them as far up as they would go. I then began to twist them back and forth, all the while continuing to apply steady suction on her clit.

"Ohhhhhh! Yessssss! Yesssss!" She screamed, her thighs tightening around my face. "Yes, yes, yes!"

I sucked harder, twisted my fingers faster. Her clit seemed to disappear in my mouth for a moment, a sure sign that orgasm was assaulting her.

"Godddddd!" She cried, her hips bashing me almost painfully now. "I'm commmmminnnngggg!"

It lasted nearly a minute. Her hips slammed into me, her asshole clenched around my fingers, her juices poured down onto my face, drenching me. I continued sucking and twisting until her spasms slowed and finally came to a halt. Her body relaxed and her fingers withdrew from my cunt.

She rolled off of me, grasping me and pulling my face to hers. Her tongue was in my mouth, probing my tonsils it seemed. Her hands were squeezing my tits roughly.

A moment later her face was between my legs, eating me like I'd never been eaten before.

She brought me to three orgasms, each one better than the last before she pulled her face away. I was a panting, sweaty mess by this time, my make-up smeared, my hair trashed, my body flushed. Our arms came around each other and we started kissing each other, exchanging tongues, cuddling each other, pushing our wet bodies together.

Finally we relaxed. Still pressed together, the sweat drying on us, we looked in each other's eyes.

"That was absolutely incredible Charlie." I told her, kissing her eyelid. "I've never come like that in my life."

She nodded gently. "Yeah." She said. "It was fun, wasn't it?"

I stared at her, aghast, thousands of emotions working on me. "Fun?" I asked. "Is that all you have to say about it. Fun?"

She offered her cynical smile again. "Yes." She nodded, pulling me a little closer. "Fun. Two women enjoying sexuality together, exploring each other's bodies. It's fun to do it once in a while."

Once in a while? "You mean," I started, thought for a moment how to articulate myself, and then rushed on. "You're NOT a lesbian?"

She barked laughter into the room. "A lesbian?" She asked. "Is that what you think of me? Jesus Christ!" She pulled away from me, sitting up in the bed, her tits bouncing with her motion. "I swear to God, you eat a pussy now and then and people think you're a lesbian."

"You're not?" I asked and then, quieter, "I'm not?"

"No!" She laughed. "We're just two women sharing a little pleasure with each other. There's nothing wrong with that. You're horny, I'm horny, we both know what to do about it. Sometimes it's nice to be with another woman. But it's also nice to be with a man."

"I've never come like that with a man." I told her, confused.

She smiled, standing up and stretching. "That's because you've been chasing rich assholes all of your life. Like my brother. He's the epitome of the rich asshole. They know they got what women like you want, good old legal tender, so they never bother learning how to fuck. Why should they? They have beautiful chicks practically dropping down and giving them blowjobs left and right. Have you ever really enjoyed sex with a man, I mean REALLY?"

I stared at her, knowing I should be offended and deeply so. She had just insulted me badly, calling me nothing more than a whore. But I knew there was too much truth in what she had said to be offended. She had pinned me down exactly. I DID marry David for money. Every guy I'd ever dated in my entire life had been on the basis of his earning potential and not because of physical attractiveness or personality.

"Well?" Charlie asked, standing naked before me, her eyes probing. "Have you?"

"No." I said. "Not really."

"That's your problem." She said. "That's the source of the confusion you're feeling right now. Woman on woman is nice, don't get me wrong. I've liked it ever since I tried it for the first time in the tenth grade. But there's nothing like having a man who knows what he's doing fuck the shit out of you. It makes what you and I just did nothing more than a step above jerking off."

I was speechless, staring at the enigmatic Charlie as she bent down and began retrieving her clothes. She seemed deep in thought while I pondered the events of the day.

As she dressed she seemed to come to a decision. "Listen Jen," She said. "I'm going to a party tonight with my boyfriend. He's a cop you know but it's a party where they'll be a bunch of paramedics, nurses, and firefighters there. A REAL party, not what you're used to. Any chance you can get a babysitter tonight and come with me?"

"Why?" I asked confused.

She gave a mysterious look. "I think you might have a good time." She answered. "So what do you say?"

My mother, I knew, would be more than happy to watch the kids if I asked her. But did I really want to do this. Curiosity got the better of me. "What time?"

"I'll pick you up at 5:30." She said.

"What should I wear?" I asked next, the main question at most parties.

She chuckled. "It's a warm, spring night. How about shorts and a T-shirt? Do you even have anything like that?"

"I think I can dig something like that up." I told her indignantly, making a note to go to the store and pick up some shorts and a T-shirt.

She finished donning her clothes. "See you at five-thirty then." She said. She gave me a lingering kiss on the mouth, allowing me to taste myself on her lips, stirring my desire once again. "I think you're in for a night to remember."



-------

Chapter 3


I called David at work to tell him that I would be going out that night and that I might possibly be late getting home. I had a lie already formulated in my mind; that I was going to a PTA meeting with some of the other mothers at the academy and that we were going to have coffee and pastries afterword. If David had offered any sort of objection to this, if he had simply said, 'gee Hon, I really wish you'd be home tonight' or something like that, I would have canceled in an instant. But I didn't even get to speak directly to him at that time. I got his secretary, who told me that David was in an important meeting and that she would pass along the message. When he did call me back several hours later he agreed quickly with my plans, told me that he himself was working late again anyway, and hung up. Status Quo there.

With a sigh I called my mother, asking if she could watch the kids until late that night.

"How late?" She asked.

"I'm not sure." I told her. I had no idea at what time I would come home. It was possible, even probable, that David would return before me. "Probably until David comes home from work."

If she'd offered the slightest hint of hesitation I would have cancelled because of that. In truth, I was looking for a reason to bow out of this party that Charlie wanted me to go to. But mom offered no such hesitation. I could almost hear her shrug over the phone. "Sure," She said. "I'll be over around 4:30 or so. If you or David runs too late, I'll just stay in the guest room."

"Thanks Mom." I said numbly, knowing I had no more excuses.

Before picking the kids up from school I stopped at Nordstrom's. I was amused to note how indecisive I was in picking out a simple pair of shorts and something that resembled a T-shirt (I would not be caught DEAD in an actual T- shirt, no matter what the occasion). I finally settled on a pair of white shorts, a frilly, pullover blouse, and a new pair of deck shoes. I rang the purchases up on my seemingly limitless credit card and was nearly late for pick- up.

I got dressed early, very early. By the time my Mom showed up at 4:30 I was fidgeting nervously in the unfamiliar clothes, having done and redone my hair three times. I'd downed three tall glasses of wine while I'd done this and was feeling the beginnings of a pleasant buzz.

Mom, at fifty-two, is still an attractive woman thanks to multiple plastic surgeries, breast enhancements, and regular tanning salon sessions. She looks no more than thirty-five and we are often mistaken for sisters when we are out together. She greeted the kids stiffly and formally, saying all of the proper grandmotherly things to them. She raised her eyebrows when she took in my attire.

"Jennifer Dear," She asked. "You're going out dressed like THAT?"

"Yes Mom." I answered. "I'm going to, well a little informal party."

"A party??" She said, appalled. To my Mom a party meant a formal occasion, something that required a dress that had never been seen on my body before and that cost a minimum of four hundred dollars. Until that day, that was what a party meant to me too.

"Yes Mom." I answered. "It's very informal. More of a gathering of friends, I guess."

"Jennifer," She said. "Are you SURE you're dressed appropriately? Who invited you to this party?"

I took a deep breath, knowing that I had to involve my mother to a certain degree in this conspiracy, hoping that family loyalty would override her snobbery. "David's sister invited me." I shrugged, offering a playful smile. "It sounded like fun."

"You don't mean," She asked, distaste plain upon her face, "The sister that's a... " She could barely say it. "A fireman?"

"Firefighter." I corrected. "And she usually works as a paramedic anyway." I added, as if this distinction would make a difference to my mom. "She's really nice. She wanted me to come with her (in more ways than one, I thought deliciously) and I told her I would."

"But Jennifer... " Mom started.

"Mom," I said. "I can take care of myself. But don't tell David where I am. He'd hit the roof. Tell him I went to a PTA meeting and am going for coffee afterwards."

She shook her head in puzzlement for a moment but agreed to do as I asked. "Sometimes I just don't understand you Jennifer." She said. "Do you have some wine in the refrigerator?"

At 5:30 Charlie's Jetta roared into my driveway once again. By this time I'd drank another two glasses of wine with Mom and was feeling very mellow.

My kids greeted Charlie with much more enthusiasm than they'd shown my mother.

"Auntie Charlene!" They cried, rushing to her and giving her hugs and wet kisses. She returned their embraces with genuine affection.

"Did you bring us stickers? Did you bring us stickers?" They asked, nearly slobbering with anticipation.

Mom was again appalled. "Children!" She barked forcefully, overriding my parental obligations without a second thought. "Your manners!"

"It's okay Mrs. S." Charlie said, reaching into her purse and withdrawing what the kids wanted, some junior firefighter stickers with the Seattle Fire Department's logo on them. She handed them over and the kids squealed in delight, jumping up and down.

Mom was looking at my young sister-in-law as if she were a nasty cockroach that had invaded her kitchen. Part of it was Charlie's attire; a gray half-shirt with the emblem of a local gym on it (again showing off her smooth stomach and her naval ring) and a tight, brief pair of blue jean shorts that left little to the imagination. Part of it was Charlie herself (a mere civil servant). But the biggest part of it perhaps was the way that Charlie had addressed her; Mrs. S. As far as I know, nobody had EVER addressed Mom in this manner before in her life.

"Jennifer," Mom started, turning towards me, God knows what was about to come out of her mouth.

But Charlie spoke first. "You ready Jen?" She asked, taking in my outfit. "You look hot."

I nodded, casting a nervous eye at Mom.

"Then let's do it." She said, turning towards Mom. "Nice to see you again Mrs. S. I'll keep your daughter safe tonight." She winked. "After all, I know CPR."

Mom's mouth was agape. We exchanged quick hugs and kisses with the kids and were out the door in a flash. A minute later we were roaring away in her Jetta, the top down, the warm air blowing our hair.

"Where are we going?" I asked Jen as we accessed the freeway and headed towards downtown. The sun was sinking in the sky but still shining brightly. We moved along swiftly but in the opposite lanes, traffic was backed-up and at a near standstill with the midst of rush hour.

"It's kinda hard to describe until you've seen it." She said, smiling. "But let me tell you, it ain't the Ritz."

She would say no further on our destination. She shot through downtown and headed south, catching the tail end of traffic leaving that area. She took an exit that was identified by a street number only, leaving the freeway into a part of town that immediately got my adrenaline flowing. We were passing used car dealerships and low rent apartment complexes, weaving in and out of traffic that consisted of run-down vehicles with dangerous looking thugs in them. They all stared at us as we passed, two attractive women in a Jetta. Many of them pointed and offered unheard but obviously obscene comments.

"Charlie," I asked nervously, averting my eyes from the latest obscene commentator. "Is this safe?"

She scoffed, flipping her middle digit at the car in question without even glancing at the occupants. "Of course it's safe." She told me. "We're going to a party full of cops. What could be safer?"

I nodded, unconvinced, wondering if the people that she had just flipped off were going to force us off the road, kidnap us, rape us, murder us.

"There's my fire station." Jen said, pointing at a dilapidated building with three bay doors, shut, and an American flag atop of a pole. The station looked old enough to have once quartered horse drawn fire apparatus. SEATTLE FIRE DEPARTMENT and the station number were across the top of it, over the bays.

"You work in THIS neighborhood?" I asked, shocked. "My God, doesn't that scare you?"

She shrugged. "I've worked in worse." She said. "This place is a step up from my last station."

I was hard pressed to imagine a worse neighborhood. Was she taking me to a party around here somewhere? Was there someplace safe around here?

She pulled off of the main avenue and onto a two-lane side street lined with liquor stores with bars across their windows, cheap motels where hookers strolled, and disgusting looking apartment complexes where dangerous looking people were standing outside, drinking large cans of beer, eyeing us as we passed like hunters eyeing a herd of deer. Gradually the scenery changed over to warehouses and abandoned business complexes. I saw that graffiti, much of it illiterate, covered most of the available space on the buildings. The warehouses began to look empty as we progressed, no longer with cars in the parking lots, no longer with truck trailers backed into their stalls. We passed an open field where lush green grass, as high as a man, grew.

Finally we came to a warehouse that looked like it hadn't been used in more than ten years. Its sliding doors, where trucks had once unloaded, had been torn down. Its windows were all broken out. Its walls were covered with so much graffiti that not a single epitaph was discernable.

"Charlie?" I asked, looking at the place with more than a little unease. "Is THIS where we're going?"

She nodded, pulling her car into the parking lot. "This is the place." She told me. "The warehouse."

As she pulled around the back I noticed that the parking lot was not entirely empty. There were fifteen to twenty cars parked next to the building; and not the sort of cars you would expect to find in this neighborhood. Late model four wheel drives, Toyota Camry's, Honda Accords, a couple of motorcycles, a Corvette, a Beemer. Near the rear of the warehouse, out of sight of the nearest road, a bonfire was burning, built from what appeared to be smashed up wooden pallets. A pile of unburned pallets sat about ten yards away from the fire. Near the bonfire a black barbecue was set up, smoke billowing from it, the smell of cooking meat and barbecue sauce drifting in the air. Thirty or so people, a few more men then women, all dressed in shorts and T-shirts or jeans and T-shirts, were standing around the fire or sitting around it in lawn chairs. Nearly all had plastic cups in their hands, which they sipped out of frequently. Next to the barbecue was a park services garbage can which, for some reason, seemed to be the focus of many of the people there. A line had formed next to it.

"This is the party?" I asked Charlie in disbelief.

"Not quite high society, is it?" She answered, setting her parking brake and shutting off her engine. "But I bet it's a lot more fun than the parties YOU usually go to."

I was speechless, suddenly feeling more out of my element than I'd ever been in my life. I wanted to demand that Charlie take me home immediately. But I didn't. I opened my car door and followed her as she headed for the throngs of people around the fire.

"Charlie!" Several voices greeted happily as we approached.

Music was blaring from a portable stereo system set up near the fire; a modern rock CD full of bass and electric guitars, a throaty female vocalist slinging the lyrics. The warmth of the fire passed across me, the smoke scented with a dry, acrid smell; the smell of a building afire. Next to the barbecue was a table filled with paper plates, bags of hamburger buns, jars of mayo, mustard, and relish. Plates of cheese, tomatoes, onions, lettuce sat next to these. At the end of the table were bowls of potato and macaroni salad and baked beans. The smell of beer was thick in the air.

A very attractive man of about thirty, wearing tight shorts and no shirt walked up to Charlie, a pleasant grin upon his face. He embraced her tightly, letting his hands slide down to her ass cheeks, giving them a squeeze.

Her boyfriend, I figured. The cop. I marked him as somewhat crude in his affections, groping her like that in public. He smelled strongly of beer, so I figured that was the basis for his indiscretion.

"Hey Mikey." She said, smacking him loudly on the cheek and ruffling his hair. "How's the sex life?"

"The usual." He told her, squeezing her ass once again. "When you gonna leave that dumb cop so I can pork you a little?"

She giggled, breaking the embrace and making my mouth drop. He wasn't her boyfriend? Was she some sort of slut, allowing a man that was not her boyfriend to handle her that way?

"You're married Mikey," Charlie reminded him. "Remember?"

"My wife doesn't understand me." He told her, grinning. "I'm only staying for the children."

"You don't have children." She shot back.

"Some day we might." He returned. "That's why I have to stay. For the future children."

"You're scum Mikey." Charlie told him, not unkindly.

"I yam what I yam." He answered in a passable Popeye imitation. He then looked at me, his eyes showing immediate interest, crawling over my chest, waist, and legs with such force I could almost feel it. "Who is this beautiful young lady?" He asked, stepping closer to me.

"This is Jen," Charlie introduced, "My sister-in-law. She wanted to see how the other half lives tonight." She turned to me. "Jen, this shitheap here is my partner, Mike Townsend."

"Very pleased to meet you." Mike said, grabbing my right hand and lifting it to his lips. Before I realized what was happening, he was kissing it wetly. Charlie, in amused exasperation, slapped it away.

I was speechless, unable even to mutter a perfunctory greeting. In my entire life I'd never met someone so forward.

"She's married dickwad." Charlie told him. "To someone who donates more to charity each year than you make."

"I'm married too." Mike called as we walked away from him, heading for the main crowd. "We can relate to each other!"

I was horrified. "You have to work with that... that man?" I whispered.

She shrugged. "Mikey's okay." She said. "A typical macho fireman. More brawn than brains and likes to talk about his hose a lot. He's harmless."

He didn't seem very harmless to me, but I said no further as we entered the main group of people. I began to hear conversations now, animated and full of gutter profanity.

"So this scrote starts handin' me this line of shit about how he was just 'borrowing' the Mercedes from his brother's friend. What's the brother's friends' name? I ask him. 'I forgot' he says. So then the fuckhead actually... "

Another, apparently from a paramedic, went, "So he just got done takin' his damn toaster apart at 2:30 in the fuckin' mornin' and then decided to plug it in and give it a try. Shocked the shit out of himself and damn near burned down the house when he touched the wrong thing. So I ask him, 'you been doing any crank?' 'No!!' he says. 'I don't do that shit.' Right, just decided just that 2:30 was a good time for toaster repair... "

And yet another, "So he tells me he SAT on this pear while he was in the shower. Sat on it. That's how it got in there. Right, I often take my fruit into the shower with me. I mean, if you got the guts to call 911 and tell 'em you have a pear up your ass, at least have the guts to tell the truth about how it got... "

I was amazed, astounded, just from hearing the brief snippets of talk around me. I also noticed that most of the men, and even a few of the women were looking at me with variations of the gaze that Mike had just given.

"Here comes Rick." Charlie told me, pointing out a dark-haired man dressed in cut-off shorts and a white T-shirt. The front of his T-shirt depicted an American flag on fire. FUCK DEMOCRACY read the motto. The shirt was long and drooped down over his waistband in a very nerdy way. His knees were slightly knobby but his legs were not terribly bad. His hairline was receding a bit, despite the fact that he appeared to be only in his late-twenties. I guessed that he would be entirely bald by the time he was forty. His smile was pleasant but his eyes were cynical and probing like Charlie's, even more so in fact. In his left hand he carried one of the plastic cups.

Charlie broke free of me and rushed to him, throwing her arms around him, ramming into him with such force that some of the beer in his cup sloshed out onto his arm. He didn't seem to mind. He returned her embrace and their lips met in a prolonged kiss that obviously involved some tongue-play. There were some catcalls and hoots from the other members of the party at this display of affection. I tried to envision myself rushing to David at a party in this manner, even in the days before we were married, and the image simply wouldn't come. It was just not done in our circles and it was something I'd never felt the urge to do anyway.

After they broke ranks she led him over to me. "Jen," She said, holding firmly onto his arm. "This is Rick Langely, the current love of my life. Rick, Jennifer, my hoity-toity sister-in-law."

I felt shame rushing to my face at the manner in which she'd introduced me but Rick simply chuckled. Obviously he'd been told about me in the past. How much? I wondered, uneasily thinking of the possibility that Charlie may have told him about our shaving sessions.

"Nice to meet you." He told me, shaking my hand gently and then releasing it. "Let's get you girls a drink. The barbecue's almost ready."

"Is there any wine?" I asked timidly and this caused both of them to crack up.

"Oh, there's anything in the world you want to drink here," Rick said, still chuckling, "As long as it's Olympia on tap." He led us to the rear of the line before the garbage can. "We have our young friends from West Seattle to thank for the refreshments tonight." He pointed to a crudely printed and copied flyer that was taped to the garbage can.

I read it, curious. KEGGER TONIGHT!!! It proclaimed in bold writing. Some scrawled directions and a small map followed this. Beneath this was: $5.00 ALL YOU CAN DRINK. And then in larger, arrogant letters: NO COPS--GUARANTEED!!!

"Oh, you meanies." Charlie admonished playfully, reading the flyer. "You raided their kegger? Do you know how much that used to piss me off when the cops would raid the keggers back when I was in school?"

"Yeah, me too." Rick agreed, grinning, taking a sip of his beer. "And it was only two bucks back then. But they issued a direct challenge to our authority with that 'no cops' shit. How could we not respond to that? We're charged with keeping fucking order in this city after all." He shook his head in amusement. "Anyway, we hit the place within a half-hour of the start time, just before our end-of-watch on the day shift, coincidentally. They hadn't even managed to drink a pint or two out of the thing and it was still nice and cold when we got it here."

I was simply unable to believe my ears. The cops had stolen a keg of beer from teenagers? "Isn't that illegal?" I asked Rick, unable to hold my tongue.

"Of course." He said, unconcerned with the ethics of the situation. "We'd all be fired if we got caught doing this. But we won't. You see, if we'd have turned in the keg like we're supposed to, the evidence guys would now be doing exactly what we are with the beer. No one KNOWS after all, how much beer was in the keg. Tomorrow morning we'll give them the empty keg and the tapper. We didn't arrest anybody at the party, just took their beer away, so the keg isn't needed for evidence anyway. But, if some teenager actually works up the guts to tell his old man about the missing keg and tapper, for which a deposit has been issued, and that father comes down to collect it, the keg will be there for retrieval." He grinned. "And if the father in question tries to claim the keg was full when it was confiscated, who is internal affairs going to have to believe? A teenager, or a bunch of decorated police department veterans?"

"To protect and to serve, right?" Charlie asked, grinning, grabbing a pair of plastic cups from a stack on the table and handing me one.

Well I can tell you that my vision of Seattle's finest had certainly been altered by this information. I'd always pictured cops as stoic, serious protectors of civilization. Obsessed with law and order. Church going, most of them, dedicated to preserving the American dream. Rick's FUCK DEMOCRACY shirt and his story of the kegger raid had managed to wipe this image away in an instant.

"Fuckin' aye baby." Rick told her, waving Charlie to the garbage can.

I'd never seen a keg before and had no idea what to do with one. It was a metal cylinder resting inside the garbage can, surrounded by ice cubes of the type that come in bags from convenience stores. On top of the cylinder was a round, black device and a white hose. Charlie picked up the end of this hose and held it near her empty cup. She put her hand down on the black device and pumped it up and down a few times. She released a valve on the hose and amber beer sprayed into her cup, filling it. She pumped it a few more times and then sprayed some beer into my cup. We then headed towards the bonfire.

I sipped out of my beer experimentally, mixed desires flooding me. For one, I desperately wanted to improve my dying buzz, but on the other hand, I'd never really been much of a beer drinker before. To my surprise it did not taste as I'd remembered it. It was in fact icy cold and smooth. Maybe not as good as white wine, but not reproachful either. I sipped some more.

As the party geared up I learned to love the beer. I learned how to prime the keg and fill my cup with efficiency. I ate hamburgers with cheese and mayo smeared on them and gulped down about a half of quart of potato salad. I was introduced to person after person, most of whom I forgot the moment they were out of my eyesight. I was hit on by nearly every male that talked to me, and two of the females. I sat next to Charlie and Rick no matter where they went, talked little, and listened to the conversations going on around me. It was quite an eye-opening experience indeed listening to the tales of Seattle's public servants.

In the course of that party I heard about a woman, tired of being beaten by her husband, who had screwed three large black men and talked them into stomping her husband to death. This story was met with cheers of approval and proclamations that the three black men in question be given public service awards. I heard about a man that had managed to tear off three inches of his penis while experimenting with a new, self-invented masturbation device constructed from PVC pipe and a reversible drill. I heard about a woman, in graphic detail, that had walked into the tail-rotor of a helicopter at an airshow. I heard about a couple that had been having a sex game that involved penetrating her with a.357 magnum and the trigger had unfortunately been pulled. I heard about a man that thought it was a good idea to write a hold-up note at the bank on the back of one of his own deposit slips. I heard about a group of thugs that, after beating a man and stealing his car from a convenience store parking lot, apparently decided it would be a good idea to return to that same store to gas up the car while the police were still there taking a report from the victim.

I heard many other stories, from the points of view of the cops and of the paramedics and sometimes from the emergency room nurses. Each one seemed more outrageous than the last. But there was no question in my mind that they were true. There was none of the forced, polite laughter that was evident when David or one of his colleagues told of a killer contract or some other such thing they'd negotiated. Each story was met with laughter and shaking of heads by the assembled crowd, by a sipping of beer, an inhaling of a cigarette. Never were the stories met with expressions of disbelief. They seemed to revel in the amazing stupidity of the human race, at the bizarre and sometimes deadly situations that people got themselves into. They often used terms like NHI (no humans involved-as in 'it was one of those NHI calls... ') or Darwin at Work (meaning a person was killed by his or her own stupidity before he or she had a chance to breed-as in 'yep, it was one of those Darwin at Work calls... ').

I realized, as Charlie had no doubt intended, that there was an entire world out there that I was not aware of. That there were people out there who, like her, had chosen to live in that world, among those people, and who, as a result, were experiencing life in a much more vivid way than I could ever hope to dream about. It made my structured, organized life with David in my exclusive suburb seem like a joke to me, a falsehood. I understood, a little, why my sister-in-law had inserted herself into this culture and why she refused to leave it. There was an air of camaraderie there that I could not even fathom.

I realized during my third or fourth beer that I WAS having a good time. I was laughing, genuine laughter, not the forced, polite kind that I usually displayed at my husband's parties. Though I talked little, not having any stories even remotely like the ones that were being offered, I did talk some. All of the conversation there was not strictly about work. One of the other women there, a nurse at the trauma center that was dating one of the cops, had children from her previous marriage. We chatted happily to each other for more than thirty minutes on the common problems and amusements of child rearing. I was able to discuss anecdotes with her that I could never have discussed with the other mothers I usually chatted with. We talked about having children interrupt you during sex. About children saying embarrassing and personal things in front of strangers, or, even worse, relatives. There was more laughter as we chatted.

I got to know Charlie's boyfriend a little better, both by talking to him and by listening to him. This exposure forced me to re-evaluate my initial impression of him. He'd seemed somewhat nerdy at first; a man who thought his little civil service position had him on top of the world; a man who's position in the middle-class was related entirely to that position; who would have been poor working class white trash without it. I'd thought him a balding snip of a man, unworthy of my beautiful sister-in-law's affections. A man who just might have been after the family fortune behind Charlie. But after listening to him talk, after seeing him listen for the past hours I realized that he was more than that. He genuinely enjoyed what he did for a living and probably didn't give a rat's ass how much money Charlie's family had. He seemed to despise the rich in fact. He'd told several stories about having to deal with "high society assholes", as he'd put it. He struck me as a man who actually liked to get up and go to work every day, who grumbled about it because it seemed expected of him, but who, if he suddenly DID come into serious money, would continue to be a cop.

And he really wasn't terribly BAD looking either, a part of me whispered as I took in the slope of his forehead, the bulge of the muscles that showed beneath the sleeves of his shirt, the light dusting of hair on his legs. Charlie had told me that there was nothing like having a man that knew what he was doing in bed. She'd said it was better than having a woman, which I'd finally admitted that I'd enjoyed. Did Rick know what he was doing in bed? I was forced to figure that Charlie, a very sexual creature I knew, would not have stayed with him if he didn't.

My eyes dropped down to his crotch, which was encased in tight shorts. I could see the bulge where his cock was and while it wasn't as impressive as Vic, my personal trainer's, it wasn't bad either. The thought that he would know how to use his properly, how to push and pull it with just the right amount of friction, how to use his lips and tongue on a woman's body in the right way, suddenly made me envy Charlie. She was going home to get a nice, satisfying lay from this man. To have the kind of sex that made what she and I had done earlier seem "a little better than jerking off", as she'd put it. I was going home to a man that may or may not be there, that would most likely not lay me if he was, and would most definitely not satisfy me if he did.

There WAS one aspect of the party that, had I known about it in advance, I would NEVER have agreed to go under any circumstance. But by the time I arrived there and discovered this horrid circumstance, I was stuck. By the time I finished my third beer my head was buzzing strongly and I felt my bladder straining uncomfortably. It was then that I realized there was no bathroom in sight. I had seen several of the men step around the corner of the warehouse and return a few minutes later and, though I hadn't thought anything of this at the time, I now realized that they were going back there to relieve themselves of their beer. But I had seen no women going off anywhere to pee. Where did they do it? Surely they didn't squat down around the corner.

I was so worried about this possibility that I could not work my nerve up to ask Charlie until I felt I was about to burst. I'd watched for where the women went and had seen one go inside one of the broken warehouse doors. Had she gone in there to pee? What had she peed into? She hadn't gone on the floor had she? That was a horrifying thought.

Finally I could take it no more. "Charlie." I whispered to her, leaning against her. "I need to pee." I was praying she wouldn't jerk her thumb over towards the warehouse door or the corner of the building and say 'over there'.

Instead of this she popped up from her seat, setting her beer down. "I'll show you where it's at." She told me. "I could use a little drainage myself." She pointed to the table. "You might want to grab a few napkins. There's no toilet paper here."

I felt a blush rising to my face as I strolled over to get napkins. I felt as if everyone was watching me. My blush deepened when one of the lesbian women said, "I'LL show her where it's at." She licked her lips. "I'll show her how to use it too."

This statement was greeted by laughter from all that heard it, Charlie included.

She (Charlie, not the lesbian) led me to the warehouse doors where I'd seen the previous woman go and then later emerge. So the women's room was in there. I was afraid of what I would find to pee in. A coffee can? A garbage can? The floor? The inside of the abandoned warehouse did little to ease my mind. There was just enough illumination from the moon and from the bonfire outside to give the place a spooky, surrealistic feel. Our footsteps echoed noisily in there. From the ceiling entire civilizations of cobwebs were growing. I could hear the chirping and scuttering of what I suspected were rats. The smell was damp and corrupt.

There were steel support beams rising from the concrete floor to the ceiling. It was to the backside of one of these that Charlie led me. On the ground next to it was a portable chemical toilet of the sort that is used by campers. It gave off a faint, lemony smell.

"Laura brings this to all the parties here." Charlie explained as I frantically pushed my shorts and panties down and sat on the cold toilet seat. I found it was very low to the ground, causing me to squat much more than at a normal toilet. But I was beyond caring about such things as I released a torrent.

Charlie stood before me as I peed, smiling, making me feel both uncomfortable and a little horny at the same time. I could not help but remember what had happened the last time my vagina was exposed to her.

"You really DID have to go." She said softly as I finished up and wiped myself with the napkins.

I stood up and started to pull my shorts back over my nakedness. Charlie stepped forward, her hand dropping down and pushing mine back down, her chest pushing against mine. I felt a shiver of excitement at the contact. With my crotch still exposed she put her face forward and touched her soft lips to mine. Her tongue flitted between my teeth, teasing the tip of my tongue.

I pulled back a little, turned on but all-too cognizant of where we were and the fact that other people were just a few yards away. "Charlie, we can't... "

"Shhh." She whispered, putting a finger to my lips.

Without another word she sank to her knees before me. I felt her hands on my bare thighs and a moment later her tongue was pushing its way between my pussy lips. I felt powerful tingles running up and down my spine as she fucked me with her tongue and lapped at my juices. Her hands began squeezing my ass cheeks, kneading them. I felt my breathing quicken, my nipples hardening. My knees trembled.

"Charlie, Ohhh goddd." I moaned, pushing my legs further apart, no longer caring that we were in an abandoned warehouse. I dropped my hands down to her head, pushing her harder into my crotch. This was blackly arousing; the sleaziest act of sexuality I'd ever participated in.

Just after it started though, she stopped. She pulled her face out of my crotch and licked her lips, twisting out of my grasp as I tried to pull her back in.

"Charlie!" I pleaded, feeling no shame at the fact that I was standing there with my shorts down around my ankles, pleading with my sister-in-law to put her face back in my pussy.

She stood up slowly, inserting two fingers into my slit to replace her tongue. She pushed her tits against my chest once more, rubbing them back and forth. Her fingers moved in and out, causing me to thrust my hips against her. Her piercing eyes stared into mine.

I leaned forward to kiss her but she pulled back, a teasing sparkle in her eyes. I could smell my odor radiating off of her face. I wanted to lick my secretions from her lips, her chin, her tongue. I wanted her to make me come.

"I saw you staring at Rick's dick." She told me.

I was horrified. "Charlie," I protested. "I wasn't! I... "

"Shhh." She hushed me, leaning forward for a brief moment and stabbing at my lips with her tongue, just long enough for me to feel it's smoothness. "It's okay." She said, increasing the speed of her thrusts. I knew that my juices had to be running down her hand by now. My thighs clamped her hand, pulling at it. "I LIKE it that you were looking. It turns me on."

I didn't know how to respond to this. I didn't know where this was leading. But I was SO aroused by her words and her fingers. I could only moan.

"Do you want to fuck him?" She asked me next.

"No." I said automatically. I am quite sure that my voice, however, lacked conviction.

"You do, don't you?" She said, leaning forward and kissing my neck, sucking on it. I felt her teeth nip at me. I felt her puffy, wet lips sliding across my flesh. She raised her mouth to my ear, shooting her tongue into it for an instant, nipping at my earlobe. "I WANT you to." She whispered.

"What?" I breathed.

"I want you to fuck Rick. I want you to let him eat you. I want you to suck his dick. And I want to eat you while he does it. I want you to eat me while he does it."

"Charlie," I breathed, horrified but horribly turned on. "I can't do that. That's sick."

"There's nothing sick about it." She said, pulling her fingers free and dropping to her knees before me once more. Her tongue shot out and was in my slit again, making me moan, making me pull her head to me. She took my swollen clit between her lips and sucked on it for a second, almost making me collapse to the ground. I moaned so loud that I feared the people outside had heard it.

She then pulled away once more. "Think about it." She told me as she walked over to the toilet, leaving me standing there with my shorts down and juices running down my legs. I was panting with arousal, the image of having Charlie AND Rick at the same time running through my head.

Charlie pulled down her pants and sat on the toilet. I heard the sound of her peeing. A minute later I was following her back out to the party.

When we rejoined Rick, who was listening to a conversation between two other cops about 'the fucked up jury system in this country', Charlie plopped herself down next to him and gave him a wet, sloppy kiss on the mouth. I saw his eyes light up immediately and felt my breathing stop. He could TASTE me on her lips! The juices from my pussy were all over her lips, tongue, and face. There was no way that I could convince myself that he didn't taste it. The bulge in his shorts expanded before my eyes. What in the hell was she doing? I hadn't agreed to anything! Now he would KNOW what she'd done in the warehouse.

When they broke the kiss he stared at her for a moment in shocked surprise. His eyes flitted over to me, looking me up and down. The bulge in his shorts grew bigger yet. He seemed to realize this and crossed his legs, hiding it.

He returned his gaze to Charlie, who was smiling innocently. He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. Her smile widened but she said nothing.

The party went on. For the next couple of hours I drank more beer, got drunker, listened to more stories, and my horniness increased in magnitude. I continually looked at Rick wondering just how good he was in the sack. I continually looked at Charlie, KNOWING how good she was. I could not help but imagine how good the two of them could be at the same time. The idea was perverted, sick, against all that I held sacred. But by the time I went pee for the second time, I knew I was going to do it.

Again, Charlie accompanied me to the 'bathroom'. Again she planted her face in my pussy after I was done, bringing me well into arousal but nowhere near orgasm. When she stood up she looked into my eyes once more.

"Have you thought about what I said?" She asked, fingering me again.

"Yes." I said, trying to force my hand up the hem of her shorts. I wanted to finger her.

"And?" She asked, kissing on my neck, opening her legs a little more so my finger could find her wet lips. I felt her kinky pubic hair and then her swollen clit. My index slid a half-inch inside of her.

"If Rick wants to do it... " I started.

"Oh he WILL." She panted, pushing herself against my finger. "Believe me."

"Then I will." I told her.

She pulled her fingers free, putting them into my mouth to suck. They tasted salty and wet with my vaginal juices.

"We'll leave soon." She promised, pulling free and then heading for the toilet.

Soon turned out to be less than five minutes. Charlie kissed Rick once again, giving him a renewed boner as he tasted fresh pussy on her mouth. He whispered questioningly in her ear again. This time she whispered something back. He almost choked. His face turned red and his eyes started to shine with lust. He glanced at me for about a tenth of a second and then shot to his feet.

"Well." He announced, rudely interrupting a conversation in progress. "We have to be going now."

There was some protest from the crowd, even some angry words. The theme seemed to be that early departures were the sure death of a good party. But Rick was insistent. "We have to get Jen here home." He proclaimed firmly. "We have to get her home NOW."

We left amid puzzled glances and words from the other partygoers.

Rick had left his car at the police station and hitched a ride from another cop to the warehouse, intending to stay the night with Charlie and have her drive him to work the next morning. He piloted her Jetta at near-suicidal speeds towards Charlie's apartment, his boner quite evident the entire time. There was no discussion about what we were going to do when we got to our destination, in fact there was little conversation at all, but we all knew.

Charlie's apartment was a pleasant one-bedroom just outside the downtown area. It was upstairs near the back of the older complex. It was neat and clean, full of feminine touches in its furnishings. The furniture was older but still fashionable. We entered it and Rick and I sat down on the couch.

We didn't talk to each other, couldn't even look at each other while Charlie whisked about the small apartment, turning down lights, lighting candles, and turning on soft music. She opened a bottle of White Zinfandel and carried it to the coffee table along with three glasses.

She looked at the two of us in exasperation as she poured the wine. "Why are you two sitting at opposite ends of the couch?" She demanded. "Why aren't you talking to each other? Why are you pretending that we don't all know why we're here?"

Rick and I glanced at each other, embarrassment clearly in his eyes, as I'm sure it was in mine. Strangely enough, something clicked between us at that moment. We were both victims of Charlie's boldness.

She stood before us, glaring at us. "You can't say it?" She asked. "You can't admit it? Fine. I'll say it for you. I'll put it into words. We're all here to fuck each other. To fuck!" She yelled. "We're going to have a threesome. A stinky, smelly, slimy, lustful threesome. Jen and I are going to eat each other's pussies. Rick is going to fuck us both to our satisfaction. I myself plan to have him fuck me up the ass while Jen eats me! I plan to slurp his come out of Jen's pussy!" She turned her gaze to me, her expression changing to mild concern. "Jen, you ARE on birth control, aren't you?"

"Uh... " I stammered, shocked at her words. "Yes." I finally squeaked.

She smiled. "Good."

Rick seemed even more shocked than I was, cynical cop or not. "Charlie," He asked. "What have, uh, you two done before?"

So Charlie told him an abridged version of both our shaving sessions and our encounters in the warehouse. "While you were out there drinking beer and bullshitting," She told him. "I was sticking my tongue in her shaved pussy." She said, smiling. "She was fingering me. Getting me pretty fuckin' hot too. I've been waiting for this all day. So let's get it on asshole!"

There was a pause. Once again neither Rick nor I could move. But Charlie took charge.

"Don't you want to see his cock Jen?" She asked me. "You've been staring at the bulge all night. Why don't you check it out in the flesh?"

I looked at her, seeing the challenging look in her eyes. I looked at Rick, seeing the nervous but aroused look in his. He smiled weakly at me.

Thanks to the alcohol I was able to move forward, breaking the ice. I slid along the length of the couch towards Rick and his large bulge. I reached forward with my hand, wanting to touch it, part of me screaming that I was a married woman and that this was madness, a bigger part of me wanting to take him into my mouth. His expression became eager as I reached for him. Charlie's became obscenely lustful.

I put my hand on the warm hardness of his crotch, feeling him through his shorts. He sighed, his hips elevating off of the couch to meet my caress. Charlie's breathing picked up a few notches. I began to massage and squeeze him through his shorts, feeling the length and breadth of him, feeling the pulsation of his muscle. It was turgid.

"Do you like the way it feels?" Charlie asked me, her hand gliding over my bare legs, inching towards my upper thighs.

I nodded.

"What?" She insisted.

"Yes." I finally admitted, while Rick groaned, his eyes flitting from my hands to Charlie's.

"Then take it out." Charlie ordered, her fingers sliding up the hem of my shorts, caressing my butt cheeks.

Rick facilitated this process by kicking off his shoes (and hitting Charlie's cat with one of them, causing the feline to streak out of the room with an angry yowl, seeking safer territory). I unsnapped his shorts and then unzipped them slowly, revealing his blue underwear. I inserted my fingers into the waistband and tugged them downward, over his hips to his thighs. His cock popped out before my eyes. It was not the largest cock I'd ever seen, but it was not the smallest either. It looked like it would feel good inside of me. I pulled the shorts down and off, tossing them aside. Rick removed his 'FUCK DEMOCRACY' shirt while I was doing this.

Once he was naked I grabbed his dick in my hand, feeling it, squeezing it. It was the first dick other than my husband's that I'd touched in more than eight years. It looked much the same but felt very different. It was forbidden, something that I was not supposed to be touching, and that made it excruciatingly exciting.

"Suck it." Rick whispered to me.

I glanced into his eyes for a moment and then returned my gaze to his cock. Slowly I lowered my mouth and took him into it. I licked up and down, kissing the shaft, fondling his hairy balls, feeling their texture. This was the first blowjob I'd given since before marriage but the skills involved came back to me quickly. I actually felt hungry for the cock, relishing it, instead of doing a chore that was necessary to secure a husband.

Rick began to moan above me as I went to work in earnest, slurping up and down the length of him, deep throating him, and sucking intently upon the head. As I sucked I felt my own shoes and socks being removed by Charlie's hands. I stretched out my legs to assist her in this process.

As I began establishing an up and down rhythm on Rick's cock, and as his hands dropped down into my hair to help guide me, I felt my shorts being tugged down my legs. My panties followed them.

I sucked for a moment more and then Charlie pulled me upwards, breaking the suction that I had established. A groan of protest emitted from Rick's mouth. I looked up to see that she had stripped naked, her trimmed bush standing out, her nipples hard, her flesh flushed with sexual excitement.

"My turn." She said, grabbing hold of Rick's cock. "Get your clothes off." She said, dropping her head and engulfing him. He moaned at the renewed contact.

I stood up, in a fit of lust now, and removed my newly bought shirt and my bra. Rick watched as I did this, his excited gaze making me want to sink my pussy down on his cock. He reached out and pulled me to him, his hands making contact at the small of my back. There were rough hands, very large, very masculine. I came willingly.

Our mouths came together in a kiss, our tongues swirling together on films of saliva. I sucked on his tongue and he sucked on mine. His hands came up and started caressing my tits, making my body tingle. I felt another set of fingers, softer, more feminine, run up my thigh and come to rest between my legs. Two of them slid between my soaked lips, penetrating me, the knuckle of one putting pressure on my clit.

I began to kiss Rick's neck and shoulders while Charlie fingered me and he groped my tits, tweaking the nipples. He seemed fascinated with my tits, feeling every square inch of them. I kissed my way down his body, moving over his shoulders and across his sparsely hairy chest. I sucked his nipples and then began to move lower. His hands lost contact with my tits as I sucked and slurped my way across his firm abdomen. I moved across his belly button, pausing there for a moment, and then was on his upper pubic area.

By now his pelvis was thrusting up and down with Charlie's sucking action. I worked my mouth and tongue through his dark, curly pubic hair until I encountered the base of his cock. Charlie's dark head was bobbing up and down here, slurping wetly. There was a pool of her saliva gathered here. I slurped eagerly at it, tasting Charlie. She smiled around his cock and pulled her head off. Without discussion we both knew what to do. We attached our lips to either side of his shaft, so that our lips were touching and began to mover our mouths up and down rapidly

This made short work of him. His hips began to spasm. He began to groan loudly. His hands dropped down into our hair. A second later, blasts of white sperm were shooting out the end.

We attacked the head as he came, our hands jacking him, our tongues reaching out to gather in his spurting seed. I'd never particularly liked the taste of sperm but I drank my fill greedily, relishing it. My tongue swirled with Charlie's as we drank, me gathering the seed from hers, hers gathering the seed from mine. We ended in a deep soul kiss where we exchanged our gatherings with each other, sucking tongues and sperm from one mouth to the other, Rick's wet, spent cock pushing between our faces, wetting them.

Already Rick's cock was hardening once more. He grasped it with one of his hands.

"I wanna see you two eat each other." He told us, staring at our naked bodies.

Charlie smiled, laying down on her coffee table, spreading her legs obscenely. "You heard the man." She said.

I put my face between her widely spread legs, smelling her strong odor, seeing her pouting pussy lips. I was stretching my tongue out to take the first lap when Rick said, "No. Sixty-nine!"

"Yeah." Charlie agreed, bending forward and grabbing me, trying to twist me around. "Sixty-nine."

I had no problem with this. I desperately needed some stimulation of my pussy at this point. I spun around so my crotch was in Charlie's face, my tits pushing into her stomach. As I lowered my mouth to her cunt and started to lap, tasting her tart juices, I felt her hands on my ass pulling me downward. I felt her tongue enter me and start lapping.

I did my best but I quickly learned that there is a major drawback to this technique. Her tongue felt so good inside of me that I was hard-pressed to concentrate on what I was doing in her pussy. And apparently my tongue felt so good in her wet pussy that she had trouble concentrating on mine. What she was doing felt great but not as good as what she'd done to me earlier that day.

But Rick did not care about what we were feeling. He watched us with lust on his face, his hand jacking on his still-wet, but very hard cock. At last he could take it no more. He walked to the end of the table, near Charlie's head, and a moment later I felt him slide deep inside of me in a single thrust.

I moaned as I felt his hardness fill me and rub against the sensitive nerves at the top of my pussy. He began to move in and out of me while Charlie continued to slurp at me. I have never felt anything like it before. His cock pounded in and out while my sister-in-law began sucking upon my clit. It wasn't a minute before the orgasm that I'd been trying to achieve all night began working it's way through my body.

When I came it was with an intensity that I'd never imagined before. It spread from my crotch throughout my entire body. Even my hair felt like it was part of the orgasm as my hips slammed backwards into Rick's pounding pelvis. My spasms ended but Rick continued to slam into me. Charlie continued to slurp and suck at me. The odor of our sex was filling the room. I felt orgasm number two already worming it's way forward.

I lowered my mouth to Charlie's pussy once more and started to suck on her clit, which was protruding out. I suctioned her hot, wet clit, feeling it grow and pulsate in my mouth, tasting her nectar on my tongue. Her pelvis started to mash against my mouth and in less than a minute she was moaning and screaming her way through a come.

Rick picked up the pace of his thrusts, his hands squeezing my tits once more. I heard him panting uncontrollably. I heard the wet squish of our copulation. Charlie kept licking and sucking at me. My second orgasm was even more powerful than the first and it triggered Rick's. His thrusts became erratic and punctuated with hard, almost painful, but still pleasurable squeezes on my breasts. He cried out and I felt his load shooting inside of me, splashing my insides.

My God, is there anything that feels better than a load shooting against your cervix?

His thrusts finally slowed down and stopped. I felt his dick withdraw rapidly from me, leaving me feeling empty and unfulfilled. Before I could protest however, I felt Charlie's hands rolling me over. My back contacted the coffee table. My legs were spread wide.

I looked down the length of my body and saw Charlie's grinning face staring at me from between my legs. She licked her lips and then sank her face down, putting her tongue inside of me. She began to lap up the ejaculation of her boyfriend from my vagina.

It went on for more than two hours. Eventually we moved to Charlie's bed were we REALLY had some sex. I sucked Charlie to orgasm again while she sucked Rick to a new erection. He took his new erection and put it in her ass (with the help of some baby oil) and fucked her while I continued to eat her. After she came I demanded, in a fit of drunken lust, that he put it in MY ass, even though I'd never done such a thing before. He lubed himself up and slid it carefully inside of me, taking his time in penetration while Charlie held me, kissing my cheeks and lips. It hurt at first but when I got used to it, WOW. And when Charlie put her mouth on my pussy while he ass-fucked me, I had two of the most powerful orgasms I'd ever experienced. Rick shot his third load of the night up my ass and I enjoyed it.

His fourth load of the night was in Charlie's cunt while I sucked her tits and played with Rick's balls.

Shortly after that he proclaimed himself spent and fell asleep on Charlie's bed.

My pussy and ass were sore but Charlie and I each sucked each other to one more orgasm.

Finally I climbed into the shower and cleaned myself off. Charlie drove me home in her Jetta while Rick continued to sleep. We didn't talk on the way, not so much as a single word, but we exchanged a deep kiss in front of my house. I didn't even care what the neighbors or David might think if they saw us.

As I walked up to my house I saw that my mother's car was gone from the driveway. So David had come home while I was gone. I knew I should have some emotions about facing my husband after what I'd just gone through but I felt devoid of them. I wasn't worried, scared, guilty, or nervous.

I entered my dark house and made my way to the bedroom.

David was in bed, a law book on his chest, his eyes closed, soft snores coming from him. He didn't wake up as I undressed and climbed in beside him. I didn't cuddle up to him, but kept my distance.

I stared at his sleeping form, wondering what I was going to do next. Could anything be the same after this?


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The End
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Posted:  1999-07-07
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http://storiesonline.net/
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