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With Lynnie and Friends

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Slim and 23, blonde and sassy, eager and bright, Lynnie came to spend a few days at my place in the country, to give me my birthday present: “I will do anything sexual that you want.”

The First Afternoon

SOON AFTER her arrival we took a shower together. Her trim, sexy body glistened under the warm spray. Water drops clung to her hard pink nipples, moisture darkened and matted her thick pussy fur. Her slender legs were spread slightly as she ran her fingers through her cunt lips. My cock was very hard before I even hugged her, rubbed against her. I fondled her firm medium sized tits and moved my hips against her thigh, my cock bouncing. Her hand gently closed on my prick giving it a slow stroke. We almost didn’t make it into the bed.

We rinsed, dried off quickly and dove into bed. Passionate kisses trailed down each other’s bodies. Hot hands fondled pussy, butts, cock and tits. I suckled on her moist pink cunt until her warm juices flowed. She stroked my prick, took it briefly into her mouth.

“Oh, Goddess! Lynnie! I want to cum! I want to fuck you so much!”

“Yes! I need to be fucked! Please come in me and fuck me!”

She got on all fours, presenting her cute little butt. Her cunt lips were thick with need, puffing out from her hairy crotch. My thick hot cock plunged into her cunt. I grabbed her hips and thrust into her. Her wet warm tunnel gripped my shaft and squeezed. We pumped against each other, dizzy with lust. Shouting and moaning with both came quickly.

LYNNIE LIKED modeling and posing for me; I liked her modeling and posing for me. She threw open her suitcase and gave me a lingerie show. She started with a thong bikini: fire red, pulled tight over her furry mound, the thong nestled in her butt crack, separating her firm bouncy cheeks; the tiny top barely covered her medium cupcake tits, the meat of them curving out from under the shiny fabric. She bounced around the room, flaunting her trim figure, shaking her cute little butt in my face, dancing to her favorite music on the stereo. I relaxed on the bed, puffing the pipe and stroking the rod, savoring the lust and the sexy fashion show.

Lynnie darted back into the bathroom to change into a sleek white teddie with ivory lacy around the bust and straps and a snap crotch. She also wore a pair of white nylon stay-up stockings with broad lace-trimmed bands high on her slim thighs. She posed for me thrusting her tight ass out as she bent over to smooth her stockings, then turning to face me she leaned forward to shake her firm boobs and let me ogle her delicate cleavage. She joined me on the bed, popped open the snaps of the snug crotch. Her fingers combed her silky pubic hair, seperated the puffy lips of her pussy and slowly stroked her little clit. I quickly replaced her fingers with my tongue and lips. She was soon panting and bouncing her hips in time with my tongue strokes. I brought her closer and closer to a climax but stopped each time. Lynnie moaned in frustration but played along. Her hands and mouth returned the tease on my cock for awhile, then with a sultry giggle and sexy wiggle, she went to change again.

It was a black outfit this time: bustier, nylon briefs, lace garter belt, seamed stockings and paten leather spike heels. We stood before the dresser mirror, embracing, kissing passionately. She turned in my arms to face our reflections. I loved the feel of the stiff bustier cupping her firm little tits, the pressure of her buns in tight nylon writhing back against my swollen cock. I pulled my briefs down to free my prick and slipped her pantie crotch aside. With a satisfied groan I eased my dick into her wet pussy. She moaned and wriggled against me, leaning forward on the dresser. We fucked slowly for awhile, savoring the warm wet pressure of cock in cunt, tit in hand. I pumped into her, my dick burning and throbbing, and she humped her pussy on me, gripping and squeezing with her talented inner muscles. Sweating with the passion and effort of not climaxing, just holding our arousal at the edge of release, we eventually seperated, stripped and ducked into the shower.

After an hour of lace and nylon it was nice to fondle and finger each other naked.

LATER, AS WE watched a sexy video, Lynnie lounged in a beige chamisole and tap panties outfit. We traded cock-sucking and pussy-licking all through the movie, keeping each other aroused, just at that delicate, maddening, sweating edge of cumming.

Then my blonde vixen modelled a pair of shiny black pantiehose with french-cut panties on underneath. Her beautiful pert tits were held by a lacy black low-cut bra. We rolled on the bed, a tangle of legs and arms, thrusting hips and clutching hands. We kissed deeply, wetly, almost continually. Her nyloned legs were smooth as they squeezed my leg between them. She pumped her damp crotch on my thigh. The fabric of her tiny panties rolled and disappeared into the folds of her pussy. Her moisture soon soaked through the Escort bayan panties and the nylons making a slick wet spot on my leg. My cock was tall and stiff; I wiggled so it would rub on the delightful damp nylon, pressing against her thighs, crotch, and belly. When we couldn’t wait anymore I ripped a hole in the crotch of her pantyhose, pushed her wet pantie crotch aside, and fucked into my lovely young slut girlfriend from behind.

The First Evening

THAT EVENING we were joined by Eric and LaSara, two of our sexy friends, in a small swing and swap party. They were a attractive, late-20’s couple. Eric had long dark brown hair and moustache, a medium slightly muscular build. LaSara was a vibrant red-head, a shapely medium size, not skinny not chunky.

After a light dinner we passed the pipe, did a line or two and got into some serious relaxing. We pushed together a couple of foam mattresses in the living room, piled on sheets, blankets, pillows, cushions. Eric popped a sex video into the VCR; I put an assortments of drinks and snacks on the coffee table, filled the pipe and slipped into my black satin kimono and black nylon bikinis.

He and I kicked back on the nest-like bed, fired up the good green buds and watched the movie. It was a tape of amateur couples, triples, and quads in a variety scenes, fucking, jerking, swapping and sharing. We could also hear our two girlfriends whispering and giggling in the bedroom as they primped and changed into evening wear for our party. It was difficult to tell which was getting us more aroused: the young couple in the video fucking or the things we imagined LaSara and Lynnie were doing “to get ready!”

The Latino guy in the movie was kneeling between the upraised legs of his blonde lover, pumping into her. The girl’s big boobs were shaking in time with his fucking; she was panting and crying out. Both Eric and I freed our cocks from our pants and were slowly stroking to our first hard-ons of the evening.

“The girls sure are taking their time. I think they’re making out in there. Who do you guess started it?” I asked.

Eric grinned as I handed him the pipe, “LaSara! She’s been hot all day. She couldn’t keep her hands off me, or herself, on the ride down here. She’s the one getting her licks in!”

Eric passed me the pipe. After his exhale he suggested, “Let’s go look.”

I was about to agree with his idea when LaSara’s voice rose in a series of sharp cries and squeals. “Ah! That’s the sound of one red-head slut cumming!” My cock pulsed with excitement as I imagined her sprawled out on the bed, sturdy legs spread to allow Lynnie’s mouth free access to her sweet pussy. Eric, too, was getting hot; his hand was moving faster up and down on his thickening prick.

“Oh, yes! Lynnie really knows how to lick pussy!”

“And how to suck cock, as we both know!”

“Yeah! She sucked on me so good, so hot, that I almost fell off the porch when we got here. Oh, God, how she sucks and twirls her tongue around the head.”

“And how she has that little twist-and-squeeze with her fingers when she jacks you off!”

His hand pumped a few more strokes then released its hold. The shaft was dark red, the purple crown swollen, leaking. He leaned back against the cushions, panting, his prick flopping from side to side.

I slowed my stroking, too. The sexy moans from the bedroom, my hot talk with Eric, and the doggie style fucking in the video were pushing me close to the edge. “To hell with this beating off! Let’s go peek in on the little hussies and get laid.” We went down the hall and looked into the bedroom, two hard dicks flopping, looking for some wet pussy.

LASARA WAS sprawled back on our bed, Lynnie kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, licking her friend’s copper-haired pussy. The red-head had her white cotton tank top pushed up above her full, pink-tipped breasts, one hand fondling the hard nipples. Her other hand stroked the blonde’s head, holding her face against her writhing cunt. A pair of white cotton panties were tossed on the floor. I picked them up to savor the musky scent of LaSara’s pussy lingering on them. My hard-on stiffened a bit.

Lynnie had one a pair of shiny black thigh high stockings with stay-up tops, skimpy black thong bikini panties, and a black satin kimono robe. The robe was disarrayed above her slim waist, revealing her taut little ass cheeks separated by the dark string of her thong. Eric dropped to her knees behind her. He quickly pulled the thong aside and thrust his hard cock into her damp pussy with one steady stroke. She squealed and groaned as it slide in. He began to pump firmly, steadily. She pulled away from the wet flowing pussy in front of her to lean back into the fucking. I knew her muscles were gripping Eric’s cock, holding it, milking it, as they had done to my dick many times.

LaSara rolled off the bed, knelt at my feet and stroked my cock. Her firm hand quickly caught my Bayan escort rhythm, adding her gentle twist to the top of her rapid strokes. She stopped a couple of times to lick and suck on me, making me stagger back against the bedroom wall with weak-kneed pleasure. Her grip thightened a bit, relaxed a bit; her stroke sped up and slowed down. Her other hand kept her pussy happy while she teased me over the edge.

“You’re so hard! You’re gonna cum on me! Squirt your cum on my face, on my tits! I know you want to fuck Lynnie from behind but I want you to just cum on me, you horny old man, wanting to fuck young women!”

Lynnie was whimpering, clawing the bed spread, pushing her butt back against Eric’s pumping hips. Her chant of “Fuck me, oh, fuck me!” was almost lost in her panting need. Eric was panting, grimacing with effort as he held her thin hips and fucked his cock into her. He threw his head back, his whole body froze, quivering, as he pumped his first load of the night into Lynnie’s dripping pussy.

Two of LaSara’s strokes later, I erupted. Hot jets of creamy cum splattered on LaSara’s face, tongue, breasts. She fell back on the floor, both hands moving urgently in her pussy. “Fuck me, please, fuck me now! I want you inside me, quick! Oh, please, fuck me!” Another squirt from my dick landed on her tummy and thighs. I quickly dropped down on her firm body. Her strong legs circled my waist pulling me close. Her hand guided my still leaking cock into the moist slickness of her swollen pink pussy. Her cunt clutched my prick, holding me deep. It hardened, burned, tingled. I began thrusting, waves of hot pleasure radiating from LaSara’s cunt through my cock and up my spine. Her broad hips bucked under me, meeting my thrusts with urgent strength, growing need. I could feel her cunt vibrate, contract. She went stiff and quivering under me, her pussy squeezing and gushing her hot fluids. Seconds later another pulse of my own warm juices burst out of me, mixing with her flow, dripping out of her spasming pussy.

That Night

LATER WE played “Last One To Cum Wins”: for the next full hour or so, it was Tease Time to get aroused and stay aroused, but our game was to hold off our release as long as we could. Then the winner got to choose how and with whom to make wild passionate sexy dirty hot love to while the other partners played along as desired.

The girls got dolled-up in new outfits while Eric and I showered and changed our clothes, too. I put on black cotton briefs; Eric wore dark blue silk boxers. We put a fresh video in the machine…an old favorite Buttman tape… and cranked up the pipe and mirror.

We enjoyed our rush and buzz watching the tape of Buttman’s close-ups of a roomful of gorgeous, hard-bodied rear ends. LaSara came into the living room, leaned against the door frame and raised her foot to rest against it. The black satin slip she wore was pulled tight across her small round tummy, broad hips and heavy thighs. The low-cut lacy neckline displayed her full round bosom. Eric and I both whipped out our dicks and took our hardening members in hand.

“HI, BOYS!” she said in a throaty, sexy, playful voice. “Welcome to the Teasing Game. To get you started for tonight’s game we present the great, the sexy slut herself: Lynnie!”

The slender blonde pranced out of the bedroom into the front room. Lynnie wore a light blue satin outfit: bra-and-panty set with lace-edged garterbelt, a nearly transparent, thigh length robe, and pale white stockings. Her cute feet were in a pair of pale blue pumps. She swayed sexily across the room, turned to show off her firm young bottom, smiled over her shoulder, and bent forward slowly.

“As you can see, our model, Lynnie, has long, hot legs and a real tight butt,” said LaSara, continuing her commentary.

“I know all you guys like hot buns. I can see how hard you’re getting.” She moved to the couch, leaned back and hiked her slip up to her hips. She quickly parted her coppery bush and slide a thin, 6″ dildo into her pussy. My cock throbbed as I watched her slowly pump herself.

“I like touching myself when I look at hard cocks being jacked off. Oh, yes! Lynnie likes to be looked at when she wears sexy undies. Look at her bending over, smoothing her stockings, stretching her thin panties over those really cute buns.”

Her little friend pumped into her damp cunt; her fingers stroked her erect clit; my hand squeezed my cock waving its hard length back and forth; Eric knelt behind Lynnie, kissed her pantied butt cheeks and fondled his prick slowly. “Look at me play with my pussy. I get so turned on when guys watch me.”

I felt a strong pulse in my nuts so I stopped stroking. I settled back on the futon nest, my thick, stiff cock standing tall, my finger and thumb circling its base tightly. I stared at LaSara’s hand working the dildo rapidly in and out. It glistened with her slippery, warm juices. Her hips writhed slowly, her heavy Escort butt circling on the couch, her legs spread wide offering a plain view of her coppery bush, her swollen pink lips, her wet thighs.

“OH, God! it’s so good! I can’t stop! I gotta stop!” she moaned trying to control her passion. With a heavy sigh she withdrew the small dildo and slid over to talk dirty to me while she stroked me off.

LYNNIE DANCED around the room, slowly slipping out of her clothes. The thin blue robe was long gone. Now her skimpy bra was slowly slipping off, giving flashes and peeks of her small, firm titties. I saw a small damp spot growing on the crotch of her thin nylon panties.

Eric curled up between LaSara’s legs while she cuddled beside me, gently fondling my very hard cock. “Oh, Brendan! You’re so hard!” she said. “You feel like you’re gonna cum realy soon—! Oh! Oh! Ohmygod! He’s licking my cunt so good! So good! His tongue is…oh! ohmygodohmygod!…touching my clit! Oh, god! Oh, fuck!”

My hips bounced on the bedding, thrusting against LaSara’s hand. Her strokes were very firm, and very slow, and very distracted. I desperately wanted her to pump faster, and yet wanted her to slow down. She ignored my pushing and even slowed down her milking stroke. My cock seemed to swell even more, the head tingling with need.

Lynnie stood next to us and played with her pussy. One hand held the narrow gusset of her panties aside while the other teased her hard little clit. Her legs were spread a bit and her hips thrust forward. “Look at me fingering my cunt like a real dirty slut! See my hot clit! I want some one to lick my pussy!”

I grabbed her hips and pulled her down to kneel over my face. Her swollen pink lips descended to my mouth. I flicked my tongue over her hard clitty; I sucked her wet labia; I probed into her flowing tunnel. I cupped her firm little buns in my hands. She squeezed my head with her nyloned thighs and cried out as her pussy quivered around my tongue. I burrowed into her wet tunnel with my tongue. Her long golden brown pussy fur was damp and matted; her swollen pink lips were shiny with her juices; her little lavender clitty peeked between her lips. Her warm spicy sex juice flowed into my mouth. I sucked on her clit and entered her cunt with my finger. Her slim strong thighs clenched my head as she moaned and cried out, begging for me to make her cum, heedless of the purpose of our game.

I wiggled my tongue wildly over Lynnie’s hard little clit, my fingers spreading her wet puffy lips so I could suck on her bud, too. She clutched the headboard and screamed when her cunt spasmed, filling my mouth with her spicy juices. Her whole body quivered and she came again. I suckled on her hot clit and savored her hot flow leaking down my chin, neck. Her tight buns quivered and clenched in my hands, sending hot flashes down to my still hard prick.

“Lynnie’s cumming,” panted LaSara, her breath warm on my shoulder and neck. Her hand just held my cock, her grip barely loosening and tightening, my prick pulsed and burned with need. “I’m gonna cum too! Oh, God, lick me! like me so good!” She got on all fours and firmly pushed her pussy down on Eric’s face. Her wild red hair whipped around as she tossed her head.

My cock flopped wildly when she let it go. Good timing, too, as I was about to squirt a big one. I concentrated on smothering Lynnie’s leaking cunt with kisses. Her slick thighs partially blocked my hearing, so her girlfriend’s panting cries of “Oh, god, eat me! Oh, god, fuck me! Ohgodlickme! Fuckme! Lickme!” didn’t turn me on too much.

“TIME OUT!” cried Lynnie. “I’m gonna cum, oh, no! oooh! ooh!” The slender young slut pushed off me and rolled across the bed; she lay there panting, glowing. With a groan of frustration LaSara crawled off of Eric’s face and cuddled up with me. Eric joined Lynnie.

“Did you cum, Lynnie? Did you lose again?” I teased.

“The fastest clit in the west!” said Eric, nuzzling Lynnie’s pussy.

LaSara giggled, “I almost came, too. Eric, you know how to lick me just right.” She threw her firm leg over my thigh, rubbing her cunt on me and pushing my cock with her thigh. “And you, Brendan, can finger my clit just right, too.”

“OH, damn it! I did!” gasped Lynnie. Then she lost her train of thought when Eric’s practiced tongue found her clit. Her hips bounced against his face; she held her sleek, stockinged legs up and wide. “I’m cumming! Oh, oh, oh, oh, cumming! Fuck me! Cumming! Cummmmm…uuhhhhhh…” Her whole body was quivering ridged with pent-up passion, her sweaty face a mask of ecstatic pleasure.

I kissed LaSara, then slid away to hug Lynnie. I cupped her small pert tits and kissed her through her cum. The redhead went to Eric and started fondling his nuts, butt and cock from behind. He grunted with pleasure and managed to raise to his knees to give his girl free access while keeping his lips busy in the blonde’s flowing pussy. I suckled Lynnie’s nipples as I held her close. My cock bumped against her quivering hips and Eric’s hand. He took hold of it and squeeze, pumped it a little.

“TIME OUT!” cried Lynnie again. This time we all did stop.

…more later…

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Of Hope Lost and Found Ch. 01

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This is part of the “Strange Arrangement” stories. This story can stand alone, but reading “A Strange Arrangement” and “Bottles” will introduce you to some of the characters that will appear in later chapters. Future chapters will be in the Erotic Couplings and Mature categories. Happy reading, thanks for voting, and I appreciate the encouraging and constructive comments!

*

“Dorothy Jane, I’ll have a word with you.” When Daddy said that, even in my most rebellious teenage moments, I knew there was no refusing. “Outside, please,” he added, indicating the porch. I went outside and plopped myself down on the porch swing. After a minute, Daddy came out and walked down the porch steps, stopping in the front yard. He turned around and looked at me with an expression that was stern but kind. “Walk a ways with me, Dottie.” The sun was just setting, the crickets were warming up their songs, and the summer breeze felt like silk running across my bare arms.

With an exaggerated sigh that only a teenager can produce, I rose from the swing and walked with slumped shoulders down the steps. Daddy gave one look and I knew to cut the attitude and walk straight. We walked around our property- a spacious 7 acres with a two story wooden farmhouse in the center. It was at least five minutes before Daddy spoke. I think he needed to cool down. Anyways, it gave me time to start to feel ashamed.

“You’ll not talk to or about your mother like that again, do you understand?”

“Yes, daddy,” I mumbled.

“What worries me is not that you said those things, but that you actually thought them.” I kicked a pebble and watched it roll ahead of us.

I had been angry at Mama for something trivial- maybe getting in trouble for skipping chores or something. But it had escalated into a shouting match like only she and I could have. It ended when I yelled that I shouldn’t have to take orders from a woman who checked out her brain and played housewife all her life. I said that since she couldn’t be anything worthwhile, she ended up just a wife. Daddy had just come in from working on the car when I said that. Mama’s tears always made his blood boil. That’s what sparked our little walk that evening.

“Dottie, if a doctor decided not to go work at a hospital or in an office but decided to go on the mission field and help poor people, would you say he wasted his life?”

“No, Dad. I’d say he did a good thing,” I mumbled.

“When a woman chooses to raise a family, she does the same thing- a very noble thing. She takes all the sense and all the learning and all the strength and all the goodness God gave her and she puts it into her family.”

I kicked another pebble and felt small and foolish.

“You’re a smart girl, Dottie, we all know that. Even if we didn’t, you sure like to remind us. But what I heard you say just now- that was foolish. That’s you being a parrot, saying stuff you heard somewhere else and not thinking about it. Dammit, girl, we raised you better. Just ’cause somebody on the TV or in a book says something don’t make it true. Just ’cause a hundred or a million people say it, that don’t make it true. You gotta think about it, girl.”

“I know, Daddy,”

“Don’t you ever forget, Dottie, don’t you ever forget- if you’re tempted to think your Mom is ignorant…just remember that without her, there is no you. If she hadn’t worked so hard to raise you right all these years, you wouldn’t be the intelligent, beautiful, strong young lady that I’m so proud of. She made great sacrifices Dottie, and she made them so you could have the opportunities she didn’t get. You need to respect that.”

By that point I was crying. Daddy put his arm around me and told me it was OK. He reminded me I still had some business to take care of, which meant I needed to go apologize to Mama and make it right. One thing I was raised to believe was that you didn’t apologize unless you were sincere. We never said “I’m sorry” unless we meant it. I went inside the house as the moon pushed past a cloud, and I gave Mama a very sincere apology.

*******

Daddy was a good man. A lot of what he taught me still sticks with me today, almost 40 years after that evening stroll. And how I wish he was here to help me now.

This is the story of four men who shaped me (not that there weren’t significant female influences, too- I’m just not talking about them right now). Daddy was the first. The next two were men I married. And the fourth…well…he’s the reason my heads in a mess right now, and he’s why I’m taking this long stroll down memory lane.

*******

Daddy loved Mama. There was no doubt about that. But when I say he loved her, I don’t mean it in the Hollywood, googly-eyed, jumpin’ into bed before you know their middle name kind of love. Or the put up with their crap because you’re getting some decent tail kind of ‘love.’ Theirs was a love that bonded them, made them each stronger. Theirs was a love that gave sumo web tools and gave and gave to the other person but never ran dry. It never ran dry because the more you gave, the more you got right back.

My parents had married young, and my three brothers came along within the first 5 years. I showed up 4 years after Irwin, the youngest brother, once Mama’s woman parts had gotten a little break. I suppose you expect me to say that, having three older brothers, my Daddy just raised me like a boy. No, but he didn’t raise me like a girl, either. He raised me like a person. He treated me with the same respect, held me to the same standards, and pointed me in the same direction as he did each of my brothers. Maybe I should say that he raised me the way a girl should be raised.

Now that certainly limited the pool of boys I could pick from. Some were intimidated by my book smarts or confidence. Some just wanted the cheerleader type or the future homemaker or a girl who was into the whole sexual revolution we were hearing about. I knew I was headed towards a different life. It was the 1970’s in America, and young women had more options than ever before.

Mama was different. She had never worked outside of the house. Daddy worked as a contractor, and Mama did everything at home- cooking, cleaning, gardening- everything. But, unlike most of my friends, both Daddy and Mama raised me. Daddy helped with homework, handled a lot of the hard conversations, and went to almost every teacher conference at school. I didn’t appreciate at the time how blessed I was to have a Daddy who was such a big part of my life. He set the bar high for any man that would come into my life after him.

When I was old enough to start having some questions, it was Mama who talked to me about boys and sex and marriage. She explained my plumbing and all those awkward details. She described in general terms what sex was and some of the reasons it happens. Then she told me sex was natural and, with the right man, very very good. She blushed a little when she said that, and I was too stunned to press her for details on how to know you had the right man. She also told me marriage was a very good thing, but that it wasn’t for everyone. She couldn’t say how I’d know if it was for me. She just said, “You’ll know.”

By the time I was a teenager, all three of my brothers were out of the house- some in college, some in families of their own. From the time I was 14 until I left for college, it was just me and my parents in the house. By then, Daddy’s work was pretty stable, and life in the house was a lot calmer, so my parents started enjoying more time together. I could usually tell when I would need to have music on in the evening. Mama would be giggling and Daddy would be playful. He’d tickle her, smack her bottom, or tease her about something. She’d come up behind him and give him hugs as we cleaned up dinner dishes and I knew that I would want headphones on after dark. I doubt they ever knew how clearly they could be heard in an empty house.

The mechanics of sex wasn’t a huge mystery to me. Some of our neighbors had a few farm animals that I had seen do their thing, and I knew it worked pretty much the same way for people. What I didn’t get was they why of sex. Sure, there was a sex drive, just like with animals. But why do we pick one person and not another? Why does it seem to affect us so much more than on just the physical level?

I don’t know what I expected to learn by sneaking over to my parents’ room one night when I was 16. It was a couple months after Daddy had set me straight on respecting Mama’s calling in life. One night, I couldn’t get my stereo working. I was down at the other end of the hall, but I could hear the bed squeaking. Slipping quietly out of my room and avoiding the creaky spots on the hall floor, I got as close as I dared, which was still not yet up to their bedroom door. I could nevertheless make out their voices.

I stood there, listening, frozen in fascination. It was only later that I felt some level of disgust- after all, my parents?…ick! But as I listened, I heard them working together. They talked. They asked questions. They laughed. They made requests. They each seemed as much interested in making the other one happy as they did getting some enjoyment for themselves. Oddly enough, that was when I realized that my parents were partners. They had different functions outside the bedroom, but inside the bedroom they were on equal ground.

I listened as Mama made a lot of noises I didn’t usually hear from her. It became clear that they were very good noises. I remembered her blushing years earlier when she had told me that sex could be really good. Not long after Mama shouted her approval of their activities, the squeaking of the bed sped up and I heard Daddy’s noises, which sounded angry and strained. But what garbled words he got out showed that he was anything but angry. After they got quiet, I didn’t sumowebtools dare move. A few minutes later, I heard the toilet flush, I heard drawers open and close, I heard soft voices and some giggles. I felt like an intruder, an outsider in a sacred place. I stood there until all was quiet, taking my first step back to my room only after I heard the soft rumble of Daddy’s familiar snoring.

It’s hard to say how my view of Daddy changed after that. I always knew he loved and respected Mama, but now it was different. I think after that night, I stopped seeing Mama as the woman who took care of Daddy’s house. It wasn’t just Daddy’s world anymore. I didn’t lose any respect for him, though. I just started seeing that he was one part of a team. He served Mama just as much as she served him.

Having brothers in the American heartland, I thought in terms of sports, and it seemed like my parents were more like a football team than like a tennis doubles team. They didn’t take turns doing the same jobs in our home- they each had their role, and they relied on the other to do it well. Marriage, it seemed to me, could be a very good thing.

*******

Marriage didn’t dominate my thoughts, though, and the idea of it was pushed to the side as I prepared for college. I was a smart kid, like Daddy said, and I knew it. I’m sure it made me insufferably cocky at times. I was going to be a lawyer and fight for civil rights. I was going to take down big bad government agencies and corporations that lived and breathed injustice. I studied history and I argued with my professors regularly- mostly older white men who were so deep in the broken system they couldn’t even see how corrupt it was.

Then I met James.

James was a student, like me, but he had fought in Vietnam before going to college. He was a year behind me but five years older. We were in some of the same classes, and I thrived on his stories of corruption and bad politics in the Army. We talked about all the wrongs in the world and how we had a plan to make things right. James was going to get into politics and take down the system from the inside.

I started to remember how Daddy and Mama were such a good team- raising our family the way they did. And I started to think that James and I could be a good team, too. But we would raise a new society before we would raise a family. I didn’t want any kids until I had made for them the world they deserved.

Now, hindsight is 20/20, and there’s no accounting for some of the foolish things we do when we are young, but I can say now that a lot of my dreams about James were just rationalizations for the lust I felt towards him. He was a charmer, and handsome, too. He let his brown wavy hair grow to his shoulders, and his body was chiseled to perfect Army standards. But it was his eyes…they were on fire. He used to think I was such a good listener, when all I really was doing was staring into that deep gaze. He’d get worked up over some issue and those eyebrows would work back and forth. His eyes would flash and I’d be lost, ready to follow him wherever he went.

By the end of that school year, I was madly in love with James. We had spent a little time alone together and had just started getting physical. But I was still a virgin, like most of the girls I knew, and I was waiting until marriage. James was from California and took a different view of things, but he didn’t pressure me too much. During our summer apart, we talked on the phone a few times each week. After a month of that, James said he’d had enough- he was going to drive halfway across the country to see me. Two days later he was knocking on our door.

Mama politely invited him in for dinner, and after we ate, Daddy took James out for a long walk. I wasn’t too worried. I thought the world of James, and even though he and I had some radical views, James knew how to talk to his elders. That’s what made him a great politician- he could tell you everything you wanted to hear and make you think he really believed it.

When Daddy and James came back to the house, well after dark, I was waiting on the porch swing. I hopped up to run to James, but Daddy pushed him into the house with a smile and said, “Go upstairs and wash up, I’m sure Virginia’s got a room ready for you.” Then Daddy came over and sat on the swing. I sat back down next to him.

“He’s a good boy, Dottie.”

“I know, Daddy.” My face could hardly hold my smile.

“Just keep your head on straight, OK? Make sure you think this through.”

“I will, Daddy.”

“And don’t you dare be in a room alone with him in this house.”

“Daddy! I’m not…” I was going to say, ‘that kind of girl,’ but I knew that, given a good opportunity, I could be. “OK, Daddy.”

And that was all we said about it that night. We talked about other things, and I heard Mama washing dishes in the kitchen. Daddy made sure it was late and we were all sleepy before he walked me back into the house. James was already asleep, tired from his drive. I think that was part of Daddy and Mama’s plan- make sure there was not time alone for us.

James stayed for a week, and we did manage to get some time alone together. We ended up talking less than usual, but our tongues were nonetheless occupied. I could tell James wanted to push for more, and one afternoon, down by the creek, he broke a kiss and whispered, “Dammit, Dottie, I wish we could…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but as his words hung in the air, I said, “Marry me.”

“What? Shouldn’t I be the one to…you know…”

“What does it matter, James? We don’t have to be like everyone else. If it’s what we both want, let’s get married. I don’t need a fancy dress and party and cake and all that. Let’s just go down to the courthouse. We don’t even have to tell anyone yet.”

“But what about…a house…and that sort of thing?”

“We’ll make some phone calls. Your apartment is big enough for the two of us. My roommates can find someone else. We can do this!”

James looked thoughtful for a minute, then gave me that half-smile that was such a part of his manly charm. “OK!” he said. We kissed to celebrate, then went downtown. Sitting in the car outside the courthouse, I realized that half the people in there were bound to know my Daddy. I told James, and he relectantly agreed that we should wait until we got back to school to make it official. He took a detour down a country road on the ride home, and found a shady spot to stop.

“Well, if we’re getting married,” he said, “we can start to act married, right?”

I didn’t catch his meaning until he leaned over and started kissing me. His hand went under my shirt and started rubbing my back. I loved the feeling and almost took my shirt off. But I stopped him and said, “Not yet, Jimmy. Wait ’til it’s official. I mean…I want to…really…but I want to do it right.”

I saw a flash in his eyes and knew he wasn’t just disappointed. He was getting angry. But he moved back to his seat and said, “OK. Next month, then.” He drove us back to my house and we spent one more evening with my parents before he drove back home.

The next month was long, and our phone conversations were tense with desire. I worked all summer, saving up enough to buy an older car before going back to school. I spent my last week at home fixing up the car, with a lot of help from Daddy. It was a bit of an urgent project for me, because I didn’t want Daddy driving me back to school and finding out I wasn’t going to be living where he thought I would be. My roommates had already found someone to take my place, so I’d be moving in with James on my first day back. And we planned to be married that afternoon.

*******

It didn’t work out quite like we planned- the paperwork took a few days. Because I was sticking to my guns on the “no sex before marriage” thing, life in the apartment was strained. James wanted us to sleep together and do other sexual things that I didn’t even know about. I wanted to be with him in that way, too. But despite all my counter-cultural stances, I couldn’t bring myself to have sex until I was married. I slept on the couch, knowing that if I was in bed with him, I might not be able to help myself. And Lord knows James wouldn’t be able to, either.

Finally, three days after we got back, we were standing before the judge, getting married. Jimmy drove like a fiend back to the apartment. As he unlocked the front door, he asked, “You want me to carry you over the threshold or something?”

Turning the doorknob, I said, “You’d have to catch me first!” Then I opened the door and bolted past him with a happy squeal. James closed the door behind us and chased me around the apartment. I made sure our chase led us to the bedroom, and I had my shirt off before James was in there. He rushed up to me and grabbed my arms, holding them tight against my body. His mouth took mine with a ferocious kiss and his hands worked around to my bra strap. He had it unlatched and off in a second.

Without breaking our kiss, his hands cupped my breasts and he groaned. They weren’t large- just a handful each- but they we finally his to touch and feel and kiss and rub, and I felt myself tingling between my legs by the time he took a break. I sat down in a daze, and James guided me onto my back. He unbuttoned my pants and pulled them off, then striped himself down to just his briefs.

My eyes went instinctively to his bulge. I had never seen a naked man before, and I wondered what James would look like. He crawled over me and pulled down my panties. Giving my thighs little kisses, he put his nose outside my folds, breathed in deep, then looked at me and smiled.

“Are you ready, or do you need some help?”

I didn’t know what he meant, but I was ready to finally make love, so I said, “I’m ready.”

“Good,” he said quickly, and pulled off his underwear. I didn’t have a chance to see more than a glance of his penis, which looked much larger than I thought it should be, if it was going to fit inside me. I later learned that James wasn’t very big, but to me that afternoon, he looked and felt huge.

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