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Message-ID: <29595asstr$985738203@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: One Gallus <onegallus@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Signals Part 5 (inc, Fm, mf)
Date: Tue, 27 Mar 2001 19:10:03 -0500
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<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

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