Message-ID: <29595asstr$985738203@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <onegallus@yahoo.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <20010327143703.22023.qmail@web10301.mail.yahoo.com> From: One Gallus <onegallus@yahoo.com> Subject: {ASSM} Signals Part 5 (inc, Fm, mf) Date: Tue, 27 Mar 2001 19:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/29595> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: newsman, gill-bates __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Get email at your own domain with Yahoo! Mail. http://personal.mail.yahoo.com/?.refer=text <1st attachment, "Signals 5.txt" begin> Note: This story contains graphic sexual descriptions and should not be read where it is illegal or by people under the legal age under their local laws. Note: This story may not be changed or posted or otherwise used without permission from the author. "Hi!" SIGNALS Part 5 By OneGallus "Hello Wayne." She stood by her desk, her eyes sparkling and her teeth flashing. "You have a beautiful tan!" I joked. "No, I am already tan, but I am probably darker," she smiled. "You look as if you may have burned." "Yes, a little, then it turns brown. I'm glad you went with us." I wanted to touch her, but was not willing to go public yet. "And so am I," she said. "I saw you take your shoes off in class." I felt myself smiling. "Did I do that?" she said, tilting her head. "You know you did." "My feet have a mind of their own, Wayne Renfro." "Very intelligent, I think." Only when she laughed did she take her eyes from me. "What are you doin' after school?" "I am working today." "Where?" "At one of my father's motels." "How late will you be working?" "Probably till after dark." "I wanted to talk with you." "Come to the motel." She was looking into me. "Really, will it be OK?" "I think so; I will ask my father." Obviously, she wanted it whether he did or not. "Even though you know that it would be OK?" "O yes, I must always ask," she said, a challenge. "OK, that's fine." "But you don't approve?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "I didn't say I didn't approve." "Can you get a ride to the motel?" "I think so, where is it?" "Near downtown," she said. "Maybe Mom can bring me." "Oh, I hope she can. If so, we can have dinner at the motel restaurant, it is Indian food." "I think she'd like that. She likes to try new things. I'll call her right after school's out. Ten minutes after the dismissal bell, I met Sonia at her locker. "Did you reach your Mother?" she asked. "Yes, she's looking forward to the Indian food. She says it's her treat." "Is six or six-thirty OK?" "Oh I think so. If it isn't I'll call you at the motel." Sonia wrote down the address and phone of Toledotel and sketched a map in her spiral notebook, then tore out the paper and handed it to me. I stepped down from the bus and walked the half block to my home. When I had talked to Mom earlier on the phone, nothing was said out of the ordinary but I knew we were both thinking of our encounter the night before. That morning, I had left the house before she rose. That was very unusual. Usually she was up in time to tell me goodbye, and kiss me. Perhaps she was intentionally avoiding that, I thought. As I sat, eating my Life cereal, I became very much convinced that she must be evading me. Actually, I was glad for it. I didn't want to start the day with "discussions," and "understandings." I wasn't sure I wanted them anytime, but I knew they were bound to come. At 3:45 I entered our side door and stepped into the garage, then up into the kitchen. She was there, sitting at the table. A look of adoration was on her face when our eyes met. "Hello darling" she said. "Hi Mom." "Are you OK?" she asked. "Yes," I said, smiling, "I'm just fine. How about you?" "OK, but anxious for you to get home and talk. I guess we need to realize what I have gotten us into." I felt my spirit plummet. "You haven't got us into anymore than I have," I said. "Not entirely true, loverboy. I am the adult here and I broke the law, didn't you realize that?" "I wasn't thinking about the law." "I wasn't either. At least, not very strongly," she said. "I don't care," I said. I dropped down into a kitchen chair and slumped, taking the posture of my mind. "I know you don't darling, but we have to care and make sure that what has happened stays between us." "You know I'd never say anything, Mom." "And there's not only the law to consider." "What's that?' "Society condemns us. If someone were to find out, you know what they'd call you?" "A pervert?" "A motherfucker," Mom said. "Mom!" "And you know what they'd think?" "What?" "They'd think, Wayne can't get a girl to put out for him, so he has to fuck his mama." "Geeze, Mom!" "And they'd think Lea can't get her husband or anybody else to fuck her, so she'll just take her son to bed." I was stunned. All I could do was shake my head. "I know it all sounds pretty brutal, but that's what I've done to us both. And if your Dad finds out..." "How would he find out?" I asked, argumentative. "I don't know how much longer your dad and I are going to be together anyway, but ..." She let the statement hang and shrugged. I shrugged. "What are we going to do?" I asked, feeling as if the whole world were closing around me. "Nothing, just keep quiet. I don't want this to mess up your mind, and if it does, then we'll go see a doctor. God, I hope I haven't messed you up!" "You haven't messed me up," but then I realized I didn't want to let go of Mom sexually. I would have kicked it all out the door, my developing relationship with Sonia, any new relationships I might make in the future, everything, just to be in my mother's arms. "I'll tell you what Wayne. Last night was special and it was very unique. We may have done some foolish things, but some good things can come out of it. Let's look at those good things, and just cool it, OK? I really do want you learn to be with other girls. That can be one of the good things, you know?" I was sad. I had tasted the fruit and I didn't want to give it up. Intellectually, I knew she was right, but deep in my bones, I did not want to relinquish the fantastic experience I had enjoyed with my mother. "OK. I'll try Mom. I love you though." My voice caught and tears blurred my eyes. "It's gonna be hard not to...you know." She didn't hug me. Any other time, she'd have hugged me if I cried. She didn't hug me now. She didn't want to start something. But I wished she'd hug me, like a mother. "I know babe, but do your best." Her voice was very tender. "Let's keep talking. That'll help more than anything, just talking. Besides, you have a lovely relationship developing with someone your age." Her voice seemed to come from the other side of the world. I started to object, to tell her it wasn't the same, but I knew enough to keep quiet at this point. "OK Mom. We'll cool it, I guess." Then Mom stood up and opened her arms. I got up from the table and walked around to her and hugged her. Having this tall attractive woman's body in my arms, a body I had recently entered and kissed and caressed, presented a temptation to me. I wanted to let my hands roam, to touch her breasts and pussy. But I tried to pull my myself back into line with her good advice and maternal instinct. It wasn't as if I were giving up all sexual promise. After all there was Sonia. There were others. Yet there was this grown woman in my arms. "Now," she said, "Let's go get some Indian food!" On the way to the motel, I felt better. I was mentally into the activities of the night ahead. Mom and I discussed our plans. After dinner, Mom would leave me at the motel and return home. I would spend the rest of the evening with Sonia in the motel office, until she got off work. Then when her dad showed up to take her home, I could go with them, then walk the three blocks from their house to ours. If that was not OK with Sonia, then Mom would come back and get me when I called her. We found the Toledotel and parked near the office. It was evidently built in the sixties, with an ample supply of turquoise trim around the doors and windows. Even though it was old, it appeared to be clean. When we entered the office, Sonia was conversing with a woman in a maid's uniform. They spoke in some dialect of India, I presumed. Neither Mom nor I had any idea what was being said. When the lady left, Sonia smiled at us both. "Welcome!" "Hi!" I said, curious. "Is it OK if I ask what you said to her?" "Yes, I told her to change the linens in room 40A and clean it; then, to find Bharati and tell her to come take over for me here at the desk." "Wow, it's like you were the boss!" I said. Sonia smiled. My mother made small talk with Sonia, and I looked out of the office windows. To the right was the attached motel itself, a long-low slung brick face building, with an enormous gable that stretched the full length of the structure. On the far end, the gable extended all the way to the ground. The trim was painted turquoise and matched the blocks around the windows. At the front, I looked straight out on the parking lot, all the way to the street. Just to the left of the parking lot was the restaurant. The sign said, "India Dominion" and underneath, "Authentic Indian Cuisine." The back door of the restaurant opened, and an absolutely beautiful brown woman in her middle forties emerged. She was draped in a dark blue saree, trimmed in silver. Her black hair was swept back and arranged in a bun at the back of her head. She wore sandals with silver straps on otherwise bare feet and she headed straight for the office. When Bharati entered, she smiled widely and put her palms together in a supplicant pose and nodded to my mother and then to me as Sonia introduced us. Sonia said, "This is my mother's sister, Bharati." A few quick words in Hindu passed between them, and then we were on our way, following Sonia to the India Dominion. Even before we got to the front door, the overpowering aroma of harsh spices gripped us. Mom looked at me and curled up her nose. I had to agree, the smell was stout. However, after a standing few moments in front of the buffet table, we didn't notice the aroma being anything but delectable. Sonia spoke to a waiter who disappeared into the back room. In a moment, Jay Matthews, AKA Jaya Mathali, emerged and beamed a mouth full of perfect teeth at my mother. He briefly nodded in my direction. "Ah, Lea! How honored I am to have you here!" He bowed slightly, held out his hand to my mother. "Thank you Jay, this is an unexpected pleasure!" she said, taking his hand. "The pleasure is mine, I assure you." Her hand was still in his. "I hope you will enjoy the food," he said, "We think it is the best in Ohio. Please follow me." Finally, he let go of her hand and led the way to a smaller room off to the side. We trailed after Sonia's father, first my mother and then Sonia and I together. She looked at me and smiled and raised her eyebrows. I smiled back, and it registered that something was at work here that I had not anticipated. Three or four other tables were in the room, but otherwise it was vacant. Our meal was served with salads of hot spiced tomatoes and an onion and pepper mixture. A kind of bread, Tandoori Roti, cut into quarters was also served in a crock with a flat metal cover over it. There was a spinach, chopped up almost into gravy consistency, floating in a dark sauce. Sonia called it Saag Paneer. There was marinated chicken grilled red on its edges. and a curry sauce with chicken floating in it. Every thing I tasted had a wonderfully robust, heavy flavor, one that was unforgettable. It left a pleasant flavorful heat in my mouth, the kind you remember a week after you've enjoyed it. I liked all the dishes but three or four. Sonia explained that her father had ordered a sampler and I noticed he kept asking my mother to tell him truthfully what she liked or did not like. He watched her as she tasted each item. A lively conversation ensued, covering the following subjects: India, food, my mother, my father, my brother, his wife, his sister-in-law, motels, Jay's years in India, how he got started here in America. It was a constant, lively conversation, so much so that Sonia and I were soon forgotten. We could not talk for the incessant chatting going on between our parents. Sonia sat on one side of me, Mom on the other and Mr. Matthews and I were across from each other. Above us was a large painting of an Indian man, in a turban, elegant clothing, jewels. He was sitting on large satin cushions. Reclining back on his lap, was a scantily dressed Indian girl, her midriff and navel exposed. The man's brown hand was on her bare skin, just below her barely covered brocaded breasts. His lustful eyes scanned her flesh. Her long shapely legs showed through transparent gauzy pants. Red Henna adorned her bare feet. Rings were on her toes. As I think back now, it reminds me of ancient Indian pornography, though not quite so graphic. Sonia placed a foot on top of mine and smiled at me. She reached for my hand under the table, occasionally taking it back to feed herself, then returning it to me. She caressed me that way throughout the meal, looking at her father and my mother, then glancing at me with an amused expression. Her father told little family anecdotes and Indian jokes to Mom. Once, I was so enthralled with Sonia and touching, that I failed to listen to his story. Suddenly my mother burst into loud laughter and slapped Sonia's dad on the shoulder. "Jay! What a thing to say!" she giggled, as if she'd heard a naughty story. "It is true, Lea, it is true." After the meal, Mother tried to pay, and Sonia's father would not hear of it, saying that we were his guests and he was honored. "Lea," he said, "Would you like to see my business operation?" I had no idea what that meant, and I supposed that Mom didn't either. "Yes I would, Jay, very much," she said. Mr. Matthews, said to me, "Wayne, will it be all right to meet you back at the office after a while?" "Sure, I said, looking at my watch, feeling as if I had just been asked and given permission to these adults. When we left the restaurant, Mr. Matthews and Mom went directly to the office. Sonia said to me, "Come, I will show you my room." "Your room?" I asked. "Yes, there are occasions when I must spend the whole night here at the motel and that is where I stay." We walked around behind the office to room 10A. The blinds were drawn, as they were in all but a few rooms in the motel. I entered and the room was pleasantly cool. It was outfitted with a computer on a desk, a television, a stereo and a double bed. A vinyl couch in a bright coral color stood along the wall. A saree and several other dresses hung from hangers on the clothes bar. As I was taking all this in, I heard the door click behind me and felt Sonia put her hand on my back. "Come, let us sit on the couch." The room was lit only with the dying sun coming in around the pleats in the draperies. I sat down on one end of the couch, and Sonia, to my surprise sat clear at the other end, the middle cushion separating us. We both shifted our bodies so we could face each other. I pulled my right knee up onto the seat. Sonia was wearing khaki skirt and short sleeved blouse. She wore penny loafers. "I think your father likes my mother," I said, smiling. "Yes, I know that this is true." "You do? How do you know?" "I am a woman." "You know, Sonia, I started to say that you were only a girl. But that's not true. You are a woman, aren't you." "Yes, but now I wonder why you should think so?" "Well, you don't act or speak like a girl your age. The way you ordered that motel maid around was something!" "Yes?" "You have a lot of, well, a lot of confidence. It's kinda like you're settled already. It's like you already know about life." "You are very insightful, but there are many things I do not know." Sonia toed off her loafers and put both her feet up on the couch. She hugged her knees, her toes were pointing at me. "Tell me, Wayne, why you think my father likes your mother so much?" "Well," I thought a moment, "He was talking a blue streak, he was happy, he was laughing, and seemed excited." "Yes, you are right. And do you think your Mother likes my father?" "Oh yeah! Did you see the way she held on to his hand when they shook hands? I noticed that the day we went to the beach too." "Yes, you are very observant. Tell me, how do you think your father would feel about the way they like each other?" "You mean, would he be jealous? I really don't know. She and Dad don't get along. Nothing much is happening between them right now." "And how do you know this Wayne?" Sonia asked. "Well, I can tell you that last night she said `Fuck Harold Renfro'," I replied. "Oh, that is very severe." "Yeah,' I said, growing somber, growing silent, looking down at my lap. "And how do you feel about that?" she asked. "Gosh, I don't know. Sad? Glad? I don't know." Sonia slid her legs straight, her feet coming very near to my leg I had folded onto the couch. "Would you say, Wayne Renfro, that your mother may leave your father?" I put my palm over her instep lightly and felt her tap my shin with her toe. "I don't know that either, Sonia. But I don't think she feels any, you know, any obligation to him right now." "Would you say that she is flirting with Jay Matthews?" Sonia asked, running her big toe from my knee to my ankle, then stopping. "Well, she seems to be sending some sort of signal, don't you think?" I ran my hands up Sonia's thin leg, reaching up just under the hem of her skirt, rubbing the soft place there at her knees. It was as far as I could reach, considering she was holding me at bay with her foot. "Yes, a signal," she mused, "Sit back a moment, Wayne, and let me tell you something about the part of India I come from." "OK." "In my native land, families are very close. Sometimes, brothers and their wives and children will live together in the same house." "How does that work out?" "Well, I have never thought about it. It just does. It is the way it is." I nodded. "Often our marriages are arranged. If we would follow our traditions, my father would go looking for a fine educated young man for me when I get a little older, probably in India, maybe here or some other country. Of course, the young man's mother and father would be looking for a potential asset for their son and family. If a girl marries an Indian man, she is expected to leave her father and become a part of her husband's family." "Gosh, I wouldn't like that! I'd want to pick my own wife." "Of course, I would have the right to turn the man down. That is a part of our custom too. So, both families have to be very gradual, very careful, very diplomatic. No one should lose face if there is a refusal." "Still, I don't..." "I know, Wayne Renfro. It is different. That is why I am telling you about it, so you may understand." "I'm sorry, Sonia," I said, squeezing the calf of her leg, very gently. Sonia smiled, "Within our enlarged family situation, we would be helping each other out, sharing expenses, looking for good opportunities for all of us." I nodded my head, "That's neat, I like that." "My Aunt Bharati works here, but part of this business is hers. Her husband was my father's brother. Bharati is my mother's sister. Though my father did not enter the motel business until years after his brother died, he still makes sure Bharati is taken care of. In our part of India, families often help one another that way." "Does she live with you?" I asked. "She did at one time." Sonia paused and stared down at the floor. She held her lower lip between her teeth. She had something more to say, and I held my peace." "Wayne, these expanded families sometimes live in small homes and so because of that, they often share sleeping arrangements." I nodded, picturing the time when we lived in a smaller house and Ken and I had to bunk up in a double bed. "Sometimes," she said, "Brothers and sisters and cousins sleep in the same bed." I nodded again, trying to absorb the information. "Oftentimes, girls and boys are introduced to sex very early. Even though it is frowned on by some in that society, many families in that part of India still practice it." "Are you saying ...?" "Please let me continue," she said, and I quieted. "Sometimes, fathers or mothers will sleep with their children or nieces or nephews. They take great care to prevent pregnancy, but it is a part of that culture that, from time to time, they do have some sexual contact." I didn't venture to speak. I tried to remain non-committal, like hearing about some strange Indian game or sport, but it was hard to keep quiet. "I know of one aunt who took care of her sister's little boy who was two years old. Well, the little boy was very mischievous, getting into everything, and the aunt picked him up and said, `Here, sit in auntie's lap.' He was so hyperactive that he fought her, trying to escape her arms. She put her hand in between his little legs and began rubbing his penis. The little nephew settled down." I sat in stunned silence. "I know of a little girl who could not sleep and her father stroked her between the legs until she fell asleep. And know of a mother who taught her son about sex by sleeping with him," she said. My face burned, in spite of the fact I knew Sonia could not possibly be speaking of me. "I know of a father who slept with his daughter when his wife died." Of course, I can see now that she had been leading up to this. I believed I knew what daughter slept with what widowed father. Though she had not admitted to anything personally, I knew she was telling me what her life had been like. "You are upset, Wane Renfro?" she asked, evidently seeing my blush. "Uh, no, I'm OK," I said, shifting in my place. "Sonia, in these kinds of families, in that part of India," I was trying to keep it very hypothetical, "Do they ever have problems, like getting married? I mean, if they, you know, have sex in the family, does the boy or girl have trouble getting a husband or wife?" "Oh no, Wayne! Only virgins get married! If you marry a girl from one of these families, her father will always assure your father that she is a virgin, and your father would believe him. And your father will assure her father that you are a virgin, and he would believe your father." "Even though ..." "Yes." I nodded. "It is their culture." she said. "They never speak of such things to outsiders, and never really admit it inside the family." "Geeze, Sonia, you're speaking to me," I said. "Yes, Wayne Renfro. I am speaking to you." She stared at me a long time. "And you may find that teenage girls from these families know a lot about sex, even though they are `virgins.'" "Is it different for Indians here in America?" "Remember, not all Indians do this. Most of them do not. I am telling you of my particular culture. And yes, everything is different in America, but old customs die hard." Sonia drew back her feet, hugged her knees and studied my face through the encroaching darkness. I stared down for a moment, then I looked up at her composed face. She was very aware that she could blow this thing between us. Maybe she was testing it. She didn't realize that she and I had some things very much in common. I smiled at her. Sonia smiled at me and said, "You are here in this room with me, and this is a very different thing for me. Most American boys avoid me. They do not like my darkness, my being Indian. They would despise me if they knew the customs of my people. I may make them uncomfortable, the way I speak. But you, Wayne Renfro, you are different. I like you very much. You are my friend." "Oh, Sonia, I like you!" I propelled myself along the couch cushion and drew closer to her. I put a hand on her arm and she released her the hold on her knees, and scooted toward me, grasping my hand in the process and pulling it into her lap. Her face was turned up toward me and I kissed her. "I must get back to work," she breathed into my ear. "OK," I said, and she slipped her shoes back on and we exited the room. Bharati smiled at us as we entered the office. As she and Sonia discussed something in Hindu, I drifted to a side window, with vertical slatted blinds and looked out onto the parking lot. Jay Matthew's Cadillac was parked in front of room 40A. A wild mixture of jealousy, lust, curiosity and restlessness coursed through me. "Sonia, I'm going for a little walk, I'll be back soon," I said. "OK!" she smiled and resumed her business with her aunt. Outside, I was glad that the parking lot lights had not yet come on. We were still on Daylight Savings Time and September had thrown sunset earlier than in the middle summer months. The lights had evidently been set for the June and July. I walked the distance to room 40A but kept to the middle of the dark parking lot. The chocolate colored drapes, splotched with a pattern of turquoise and coral flowers, were drawn. They were like the heavy vinyl drapes in Sonia's room, pulled together with sticks fixed to their corners. The edges of the drapes butted up against each other, but not perfectly, and there was a thin sliver of light peeking through into the dark where I walked. I neared the room, coming around the car on the far side and approaching the window from the side. My heart was beating hard and I knew I should let my mother have this moment of privacy, but I felt driven. Though I was jealous, another part of me was yearning to see my mother with a man. It was like wanting to see a dirty picture. My penis was quite erect. I slid quietly in front of the narrow crack in the drapes and peered in. Mom was naked, her full front exposed to my one eye. She was standing with her back to Jay Matthews who was also naked, his brown slender body in contrast with her whiteness. He had reached his hands under her arms and around to her breasts, massaging them slowly. Her head was back against his shoulder and her eyes were closed. His head was partially hidden by hers, and was resting forward on her shoulder. Her white arm hung extended full length, down and back where she grasped his enormous dark penis, erect in her hand, moving the uncircumcised skin slowly back and forth. End of Part 5 Go to Part 6 OneGallus@yahoo.com <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. The post was sent as an email attachment and has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+