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From: Jack C Lipton <jcl@penrij.uucp.jtan.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Horizontal Integration (rom, FM)
Date: Mon,  7 Apr 2003 04:10:03 -0400
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Author: Jack C Lipton <cupasoup@softhome.net>
Title: Horizontal Integration
Part: 
Universe: Almost Reality
Summary: Assistance comes in many guises
Keywords: FM rom
Revision: $Revision: 1.11 $
Archive: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/CupaSoup/www/
Mailing List: 
FAQ: 
RCS: $Id: horizontal.x,v 1.11 2003/04/07 00:51:34 jcl Exp jcl $


		  Horizontal Integration

		     by Jack C Lipton

Mitch, an older guy I've been working with, had a "baby"
sister attending a nearby University.  She was just
completing her Masters Degree in Geophysics and  I'd met
her on occasion, usually at Mitch's;  I'd be invited for
dinner or a picnic.  Despite her attractive features, her
brilliant mind and sweet personality, I'd been spooked
with the way she looked at me, or, rather, didn't.
She never seemed to look straight at me during all of the
times we met.  Despite this less than enthusiastic reception
(as I saw it) I was still as kind and considerate of her as
possible in the forlorn hope of being worthy of her notice.
It was tough to deal with at times but she was, well,
adorable.  It was easy to measure other women against her
and see them fall short.

Unfortunately, this reminded me that I fell short, too.

I figured I really didn't stand much chance of being noticed
by her, since I'd not managed to get through college, going
to work instead.  It did not help my own case considering
her combination of both beauty and brains.  She wasn't just
out of my league, we weren't even the same species.

I mean, I'm not really all that stupid, I was just, well,
less educated.  Unpolished.  Well, unsophisticated.

OK, I was innocent.

And, perhaps, maybe a little stupid.  I had been constantly
reminded as a child that I was nothing special, so, in life,
I *was* nothing special.  No real ambition.  Unaggressive.

Sally was everything I could possibly dream of in a woman
and, well, I felt like a frog.  I was certainly no Prince.
Not even a frog Prince.  Just a frog.  I counted it fortunate
that I'd finally lost my tail and gills, too.  Being a
tadpole was not fun.

While I never attempted to date Sally, I did manage to go
on dates.  My dating experiences  didn't go all that well.
I swear I must have had "LOSER" tattooed on my forehead
using an ink only women could see; my dates seemed to lose
interest in me quickly.

I guess being a techie does not help.  Poor Mitch.  I would
usually tell him about my lousy results from dating so he
was either getting depressed or even amused with my poor
showing.  I was sometimes paranoid enough to think he was
laughing at me behind my back given some of the disasters I
related to him.

And the aftermaths of these disasters were no fun for me,
tending to discourage me from making any kind of effort to
try again.  Well, at least until the sensation of rejection
and humiliation faded.

Mitch had asked me a couple of times why I didn't try to
date his sister, which, looking back, should have given me
some clue, but my basic insecurity did not help matters.
I usually told him that she was too many steps above me on
the evolutionary ladder for her to notice me, much less
consider me dating material.

Just because I said it jokingly didn't mean I felt it was
untrue.

I would have laughed at anyone who told me this woman was
the key to my future happiness.  "Yeah, she's armed and will
put me out of my misery" came to mind.

Anyway, enough of me.  I'd spent so much time in self-pity
that it was not something I'd easily be yanked out of.  I
had grown so accustomed to failure just before my life
changed.

On this wintry Friday, Sally had come into town from school
for the week-end, expecting to ride home with Mitch.  I'd
seen her occasionally when he would whisk her away from the
office, and, depending upon how despondent I was (which
depended upon how long since the previous disaster of a
date) it ranged from a pleasure to see her to a reminder of
what I could never hope for.  When I'm really depressed
seeing her happy face stop at my cubicle was not something
to dissipate the dark cloud.

But on this cold day everything changed.

This day Mitch had to leave early for some kind of family
emergency.  Sally didn't get the call on her cell-phone
because her battery was dead.

Which dropped her in my lap, me being the only person here
that she knew.  A part of me was saying "There *is* a God!"
(Yes, I was *almost* ready to date again.)

I got the call from Security, went down to sign her in,
got her a "sticky" badge and took a surprising amount of
pleasure in writing "Sally" on the sticky badge.  I was
sane enough, though, to not put it on her shirt for her.
Sure, I wanted to, but it's not wise to tempt fate, right?

On the way to my cubicle she followed me closely, touching
my right arm occasionally (did I die?  Was I in heaven?)
as I let her know I'd be happy to drive her to Mitch's
house.

The tough part of saying that is that I wanted to keep her
with me.

D'you think I was happy?  Let me be brutally honest:  I was
ecstatic.  She'd touched me.  More than once.

If you think I'd miss a chance to do her some small favor
you have rocks in your head.  I kept hoping to get (and
keep) this woman's attention.

Yes, I was hopelessly smitten.  I may be crazy but I want
you to know I have good taste.

On this afternoon though, I was in the midst of setting up
a system for the Function Test group and needed to work
through the software build sheets.  I did my best to set
Sally up in the empty cubicle across the aisle from me. 
This was making me anxious-- she looked pretty forlorn
herself sitting there, in effect stuck with me as I tried
to put things right for the week-end.

Needless to say my insecurities and fears of rejection spun
a whole new set of nightmares for me to ponder.  I prefer
these stay forgotten, now.

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.  Doing my best to
avoid any tremors in my voice, I told her: "Sal, I've got
another 45 minutes to an hour before I can leave; d'you
think any of my reading material would interest you?"

She shook her head.  With her eyes closed, she sure looked
pretty tired to me.  It hurt to just see her dragging like
that.

"OK, but is there anything I can do to cheer you up?"

"You have any music?"  Despite her obvious tiredness, her
voice was all the music *I* needed to hear.  It would be
easy for me to accommodate her.

"Sure, I've got a drive share full of OGGs mounted so I can
play music here.  Anything you'd prefer?"

"Classical would be nice, something restful..."

OK, I could get into that, but I'd hold off the 1812
Overture for her.  I had an appropriate playlist already and
I launched XMMS, adjusting the speakers.  This late on a
Friday afternoon there was nobody nearby to complain despite
the lack of white noise generators over the cubicle farm.

With the first strains of Strauss' "Blue Danube" playing, she
relaxed, put her feet up on the desk and leaned the seat
back and closed her eyes again.  It took me more than just
a few seconds to return to my work.

All right, I admit it, I spent that time ogling this woman.
With her eyes closed again, I finally--  never having
dared to dream before-- caressed her body with my eyes as
she'd caressed my soul by touching me.  Even with the
cold-weather gear, she was a pretty girl.  Tall, rather
thin, small breasts (I couldn't guess the size, my eyes
were completely un-calibrated), long blonde hair, blue eyes
(still closed, thankfully), beautiful skin and a face that
would launch several thousand starships and burn a whole
galactic arm worth of cities.

Yes, I know what you're thinking, this guy is a virgin,
he'll see any woman with enough of the right parts and
reasonable placement as a knock-out, and you'd probably
be right.  This woman was nice for me to look upon,
though.  I'd already liked her voice, too.  She just
couldn't seem to look at me.  Oh, to hold her eyes!

Add to all of that my basic insecurity.

Consider the fairy-tale of the frog Prince.  I suspect
that this world is full of men like myself who have found
it easiest to identify with a frog themselves, not
realizing that it was a story to teach people to look
beyond the obvious (i.e. "don't judge a book by it's
cover").  I do not know how many felt as I did, though,
identifying with the frog three lily pads to the left.
This frog is not a "stealth Prince".  How many men hope
that the kiss of a perfect Princess would allow them to
jump into human form?

The fairy tale carried more truth than I'd ever realized.

I wanted to feel human (and special to someone) but had
little belief it was possible.  It'd been ground into me
that a desirable male I wasn't.

There was always a certain amount of hope, despite the
doubts.  I can be stupid that way, too.  And stubborn.

So to distract myself from my personal image of perfection
across the aisle, I returned to my work, enjoying the flow
of the music.  My work helped me to bury my fears.  For now.

Well, I usually get pretty deeply involved in following
the procedures (and noting where they were wrong), I almost
jumped out of my skin when I found her hand on my shoulder.
"Jack, I'll be right back, I've gotta go to the ladies room.
So don't panic, OK?"

I looked up, nodded, and, once her back was turned, I adored
her as she walked down the aisle until she was out of sight,
fingers trailing across the cubicles in a move of such utter
sensuality I was lost again.  I was also savoring the one
whiff I had of whatever that smell was.  It was pleasant.

My shoulder tingled.  She'd touched me again!

And I had an image of myself cutting up the shirt and
framing the shoulder material she'd touched.  I giggled,
probably like a school-girl.

Returning to my tasks, I was deep in dealing with a DBMS
engine setup issue when she returned and patted me on the
other shoulder.  I looked up into her eyes which were not
aimed at me and part of me felt hurt all over again.  I
nodded any way before turning back to my work to hide my
sudden emotional pain.

A part of me was repeating the litany of rejection:  "not
good enough, not good enough, not good enough..."

The story of my life.

I managed to finish the software build and sent the email
to the testers so they could populate the system and start
their work.  After starting a backup that could run over
night, I was done and could now leave.  I had her call her
brother Mitch, getting no answer from his home.  She got
through to his cell-phone and found he was unable to return
home.  She had, for now, nowhere to go.

So I didn't think before telling her "Look, I've got a bed
in the spare room, it's warm, not as clean as a hotel, but
it's liveable.  Even if there are several computers there
too."  Talk about opportunism, eh?

I suddenly got scared--  I'd gone too far!  There was no way
she'd agree to that!

But ... I was wrong.

"Uh, Jack, that would be great, but I've got a friend coming
in to town late tonight."

One moment my heart had been soaring, I could keep her
with me longer, maybe I could get her attention, then my
heart crashed with the realization that my Princess could
get swept off her feet in my full view by someone I'd
never be able to compete with.

One moment by spirit had been soaring but now my chest
had a smoking crater where my heart had been.  I was
devastated.

"... and, ..." she continued, apparently oblivious to my
heart's melt-down, "Well, we'd need to pick her up from
the train station."

My heart, after a brief absence, re-asserted itself,
beating again.  My sudden sense of failure, of inability
to compete, was gone.  For now.  Her companion was female
and, so, no competitor for me.

Of course, I was so naive that I never even considered
the possibility that the object of my affections could be
more interested in women.

So, with the news that she'd have a female friend I didn't
feel as threatened.  I felt better.

With this reassurance, I nodded.  "Well, my spare bed is
a twin, so, I'll let you guys have my queen-size bed while
I sleep there.  I'll even change the sheets for you guys."

I tried to tease her about changing the sheets and I saw
a smile.

She still didn't seem to be looking at me but if I didn't
pay attention to her eyes she looked pleased as she thanked
me.  It still bothered me to feel so invisible regardless
of how pleasant her voice was.

I was finally able to close up and pack my laptop.  We could
now head out to my car.  Again she stayed close to me.

It had been snowing here since the top of the page and I
could hear the dry snow creaking like cornstarch under my
shoes.  Sally seemed more indistinct outdoors as I led her
to my car in the night.  I'd noticed that she was quite
cautious as we walked along but this didn't raise alarm
bells given my near-euphoric mood.

My euphoria, by the way, was quite understandable:  She
was holding my arm.  I felt almost ten feet tall escorting
her to my car.

It's funny, but talking to her while I was driving was more
reassuring since I wasn't watching her eyes, only listening
to her voice and her inflections.  Listening to her in the
darkened car as we cautiously wove our way to my apartment
was a pleasure and I could hear happy sounds in her voice.
A part of me was reassured that she sounded happy to be with
me.  All doubts fled.

We did make one stop, though, picking up two pizzas for us
and our guest, and my doubts returned again.  I was
uncomfortable with the way she looked at me in the well-lit
pizzeria but we were soon back in the dark interior of the
car, talking with the scent of nice hot pizza relaxing us.
Again, doubts fled, and there was a part of me riding an
emotional roller coaster, getting very dizzy from the
sudden changes.

My apartment wasn't much to boast of with two bedrooms and
two bathrooms but at least I had a nice enough kitchen.  We
got in, her staying close to me and touching me, lifting my
hopes (and spirits) only to get dashed again in the warmth
of my kitchen.  I kept watching her eyes, not her face.

Who am I kidding, I'm awful at hints.

I finally had had enough, I couldn't cope any more with my
feeling of rejection.  I was pretty pissed off too, and
ready to start blasting.  As her host I expected a certain
(albeit minimal) amount of courtesy.  Even if she wasn't
interested in me as dating material, it was far too easy
for me to feel slighted even if *just* a friend.

What a mix.  I was angry with the woman I was worshiping.
Talk about mixed feelings!

"Sally, what's wrong with me that you can't bear to look
straight at me?  Am I so terrible to look at?"

She looked startled.  "Jack... Don't you know?"  She still
could not meet my eyes with her own.

"Know what?  You can't look straight at me..."

Before I could move I found my lap full of a warm wonderful
woman who smelled delightful, a counterpoint to the pizza.
She put her head on my shoulder, tucking close to me.  We
weren't facing each other as she told me, "Jack, I'm
legally blind.  Macular degeneration.  I can't drive.  I
normally need a cane to get around someplace I haven't been
before.  I can't see anything I am looking directly at.  I
can navigate a bit using what peripheral vision I have,
so..."

There I was, ready to really tear off a strip, and ...

My roller coaster ride ended with a very hard *thump*
of my heart hitting bottom.

There is nothing I've found that hurts so much as to find
one's own righteous anger so suddenly unrighteous.  Your
first sensation is to feel so suddenly dirty.  That's just
before you feel as evil as the devil himself.  Yes, evil.

None of us likes to feel we've contemplated evil, much less
done it.  If there is anything that hurts more, well, I've
not had an opportunity to experience it.  I hope I never
do.  This was an awful moment for me.

So, like the weakling I've felt myself to be, I started to
cry.  I was, as near as I could tell, a person with a full
inventory and I felt so incomplete as a matter of course.
Here she was, having lost something I depended upon so
completely, alive and energetic.

But what hit me hardest was my own judging of her.  I'd not
seen what was before my eyes because I'd chosen not to.

Yes, there are none so blind as those who do not choose to
see.  And I'd not paid attention.  Only now, in hindsight,
could I recognize any of the hints.

I'd spent a lot of time feeling hurt and mixing my severe
infatuation with the perceived rejection to harden my
heart as protection.  Despite this shielding, I was still
wide open to her.

I think I have a fair amount of masochist within me.

All this time I'd half-turned away from her all because
I didn't know there was a reason for her to look away from
me.  I'd misjudged this young woman, all from
misunderstanding, all by believing she had been judging
me.  I'd even resented her perfection too.  And all of my
hurt, anger and resentment were as nothing compared to the
weight she was carrying.  I couldn't help but cry like a
lost soul.  I felt ready to die, an easy thought for one
who'd not yet truly lived.

I held her, cradled her, in my arms.  From my fears and my
hurts came a sense of mission.  If she asked anything of
me, I would do my best to carry it out.

Then she shifted in my arms and kissed me.

Wow.  There *is* a Prince after all, hidden within this
ugly little frog.  I was very alive.

I was *so* very alive.

To say that my body knew best about what I should want is
not understating things.  A small part of me was doing
it's level best to not be so small, all in an effort to
get her attention.  I was blushing when she pulled back
from the kiss (still pretty innocent compared to what I've
learned since) and she smiled and blushed as well, rubbing
herself against me.

I cried out without thought, "Don't do that to me... I can
barely handle having the most perfect woman I know sitting
on my lap, but having ..."

Too late.  I shook as my nether regions did their best to
emulate a fountain.  It was only as I came down from that
unexpected ejaculation that I realized what I'd just said.

It was going to take a long time to realize that this kind
of exposure to her wasn't going to get me ridiculed by her.

Now that I'd calmed down (albeit with wet and sticky
underwear) unbidden memories returned to strike me.

Now that I knew of her secret I realized that she'd been
watching me from the corner of her eyes for some time now,
almost as much as I'd been watching and hungering for her.
Many of our interactions in the past came to mind as I
spun through my memories.

Almost from the beginning, it seems, she'd been trying to
"see" me.

Now, though, despite the reaction of my body to hers,
she didn't get off my lap for longer than it took for her
to straddle my lap to face me.  All with her eyes closed.
Then she kissed me again.

This kiss was very different from the first we shared as
her lips moved, me followed her lead.  Her tongue stroked
my own lips, so I stroked her lips with my tongue, and then
our wet tongues met.

She'd taught me a lot about kissing I'd never known before.
In this moment the sudden jolt of electricity was completely
unexpected.  I'd never felt this good before.  Our clinch
quickly grew from something she was doing to me to something
*we* were doing.  Together.  From being kissed to kissing.
Sharing.  Doing my best to let her know, without words, that
I wanted to bring her happiness.

And my little head awakened again, her lively bottom moving
on my lap to stroke it through my clothes, and, impossibly,
it wasn't all that long before I came again.

I backed off from our kiss and told her that she needed to
be careful, that I'd cum twice with her on my lap.

In my schooling I've seen photos of da Vinci's "Mona Lisa"
many times.  I now understand that his model must've had
something planned for the painter because I saw that same
kind of smile on Sally.

Sally was the tigress, looking like a predator.  I was most
willing to be her prey.

But, still, admitting that I'd filled my underwear with my
semen twice already is not for the faint of heart.  I had
no idea that it wouldn't faze her in the least.

"Uh, Jack, that's, uh, gonna, uh..."

She was still stroking my lap and the remainder of my erection
when she grunted and squeaked, squeezing me hard.

I'm an idiot, OK?  I didn't recognize at the time that she'd
just climaxed on my lap.  When she told me about hitting her
own pinnacle, just from this contact through our clothes, I
felt like, well, I don't know.  I can't explain now how much
that could lift my spirits.  The transition from frog to
human was incredible enough, so her happiness confirmed
this metamorphosis.

So that we could pick up her friend, due in on the train in
under an hour, I was helped to my feet.  I guided Sally to
the couch;  it was something I did almost unconsciously. Once
I knew she was safe and comfortable, I went to my bathroom
to take a quick shower and get ready for this run.  I didn't
want to meet her friend smelling like ... well, you know.

Dried, dressed and feeling distinctly more human than usual
I stepped back out to find Sally still comfortable, dozing
on the couch.  When I returned she patted the cushion beside
her, providing me some guidance.

"Jack, please turn off most of the lights, all right?  Then
come and sit here next to me.  Please?"

I nodded, turned off most of the lights and sat next to her.
In the dimness, her poor vision wasn't as much of a problem
for me to mis-read.

I still felt like a heel.

It was a lot easier for us to talk and cuddle in the dark,
knowing she was there for me and using audible and tactile
rather than visual cues.  I have to admit that the touching
wasn't particularly innocent for either of us.  We learned
about each other, and I learned about many of her interests.

Including me, of all people.

I managed to avoid doing the Groucho Marx routine about "Any
girl who'd find me attractive I wouldn't want to date" but
my insecurity made that kind of thought one that occupied
the back of my mind.

Thankfully Groucho's voice was fading.

We finally broke off our cuddle as she asked for the phone.
It's funny to realize that she didn't even have to think
about the keypad, punching in the number with her eyes closed.
I growled, quietly, "Show-off..." which got the hoped-for smile
as she recognized the teasing.  While she waited for her
friend to pick up, I held her like a priceless treasure and
kissed her forehead as I cradled her again.

Wow, I was pretty grabby, not much of a surprise given how
alone and lonely I'd felt for so long.

The frog was now gone, a nascent Prince still stretching to
feel the limits of his new body.

It is said that ducklings and geese imprint on the first
moving object as their "mother" upon pecking their way out
of the shell.

Sally had cracked my emotional shell and the man being
"born" saw her.

Imprinting in human beings must be real.  I felt it.

"Holly, there's a change of plans, I'm not at my brothers
house, I'm at one of his friends ... Yes, I'll check.  Can
we pick her up at the train station?"  I nodded, kissed her
forehead again and got up to get ready to go outside.  I
could hear her resume the call, "Yes, we'll pick you up.
Anything I need to know?  Oh.  OK.  No problem.  See you!"

I'd gotten my feet covered and a jacket on, and held up her
jacket for her to climb into.  Once inside the jacket, as
I helped to zip it up (as if she needed the help), she
pulled out a bundle of plastic sticks from a big pocket.
Within seconds, a white cane formed, almost like magic.

Given that I'd never seen that kind of trick before, I must
still be pretty primitive to be so impressed with such a
low level of technology.

The white cane brought it home to me.  Again.  My eyes got
wet and I had to blink back the forming tears.  It would
be a while before I could forgive myself for doubting her.

I'd been falling for her so long that, the final act of
doubt and despair over, I was still flabbergasted that she
liked *me*.  The tears in my eyes dried suddenly with
this feeling.  I could walk on air.

My sudden urge to protect and care for her strengthened me
now.  With this paternal drive came my possessiveness.

(Forgetting, again, that she _chose_ me.  Chose _me_!)

On the way to the train station she told me that two girls
were coming in, not one.  "Holly and Shelly are friends of
mine, we all went to High School together.  They're
room-mates at college upstate."  I nodded.  I had all I
wanted sitting next to me in the car.  I reached for and
squeezed her hand, getting a smile from her.

We met her friends, to me cute enough but I now only had
eyes for Sally, who, it seems, was trying to get me to pay
more attention to either of these two new women.  Like
she'd be able to peel me off of her that easy.  Given all
of my still fading fears I still clung to her like velcro.

If I didn't know better I'd have sworn that she wanted to
be sure of my devotion to her.  I've heard of that kind
of testing in stories but, really, tests didn't seem to
make much sense in real life.

I could swear she was anxious at the same time she was
pushing the introductions, but I pressed for her to ride
in the front with me.  I made sure to squeeze her left
hand before pulling it to my lips and kissing it.

So she was wearing a glove.  She knew what I was doing.  I
heard her giggle, a heartwarming sound despite the cold.

And part of me wanted to be certain.  She was not afraid
to be seen with me in front of her friends.

More snow was filtering down to the ground, the wind
making strange drifts here and there.  It was quite pretty,
now, despite the cold.  Without the warmth of Sally's
smile, though, the world would be far less attractive now.
I could now appreciate the appearance of the floating snow
as a "pretty" scene that, not meaning to pun, would have
left me cold just hours before.

Arriving back at my apartment was almost anti-climactic.
These three women were busy re-syncing their memories.  I
almost chuckled with the resemblance to a PDA synching to
a host computer.

With my guests busy I got to changing the sheets on my bed
and made sure extra blankets were handy in both bedrooms.

It was funny, I felt content doing this surprisingly simple
domestic chore, making a bed for my woman (boy was I
getting possessive) to sleep in tonight.  Sure, she'd be
sharing it with her friends, but I wanted Sally to be as
comfortable as possible.

I even re-made the spare bed with clean sheets, even though
I'd be sleeping on it alone.

Given my euphoric state I was still able to accept that
Sally would not be sharing my bed.  That isn't the same as
not wishing for it, but, hey, reality is reality.  I
didn't let reality stop me from fantasizing being able to
hold her all night long, though.

I let them know I was going to bed early, which bed they
should use, before heading for my spare bedroom.  I was
not about to escape without sharing a kiss with "my"
woman.  In front of her friends.

Having an audience of her friends makes for a wonderful
kiss;  after all, if I was still a frog her friends would
make disapproving noises.

No such noises were heard during our kiss.  No such noises
arose as I floated off to my bed.

I *knew* I'd be sleeping alone.  I accepted it.  I faded
quickly, happy she was going to sleep in my regular bed.

Bzzzzzzzt!!!

Wrong.

She didn't accept it.

I half-awakened in the middle of the night to find myself
sharing this little bed.

Sharing a bed is weird, a completely new experience for me.
It's even weirder when you haven't awakened completely and
are thinking in that twilight of thought.

Every time she moved it woke me up, so I'd move in response,
which would awaken her as well.  She was no more ready to
share a bed than I had been.

But, as crowded and confusing as it was that night, I didn't
want her to leave.  As has been said by Roger Rabbit, I may
be idiotic but I'm not stupid.

A twin bed is, well, at most barely adequate for siamese
twins.  Young siamese twins.  Hmmmm.  Maybe Siamese Twin
*cats*.

For two adults it was, well, an exceptionally intimate
place.  At no point were we not touching the other.  I did
take advantage of this more than once when my lips would
graze her shoulder or neck.

Already I was having selfish thoughts, but for her, not my
bed.  I wanted to share my bed with her for as long as she'd
let me.  When we finally discovered the "spoon" position (of
which I've read) it was like heaven to comfort this woman
I'd fallen so hard for.  I even kissed the back of her neck
to remind her of my presence.

As if she needed any reminder.

She ground her butt against my erection to remind me of *her*
presence.

As if I needed any reminder.

And out of my heart slipped the three words I'd feared to
say, having so little practice:  "I love you".

I'd spent so long confused, never knowing what love really
was, what it would feel like.  The Prince I'd become knew
the words, knew the meaning and could speak with his heart.

Hearing these, she moved closer to me (not an easy feat)
and heard her voice (sounding happy!) suddenly awake to
answer me with "I love you too..."

Which felt to me like lightning striking.  I'd not been
fully awake when I exposed my heart.  The full awakening
after hearing her reply was instantaneous.  I imagine the
shock of learning my devotion woke her up completely.

Awake now, we shifted to face each other and repeated our
sentiments.

Well, in between kisses.  At length.  Our tiredness had been
ripped away by an adrenalin rush.

But adrenalin doesn't last forever and it had been a long
day for both of us.  As my wakefulness faded my erection
was coming back, a sure sign that my fear-driven adrenalin
rush was over.

We shifted back into a spoon position, her head cradled on
my right arm, a pillow to cushion our heads, and, as I
listened to her fade, she placed my hands on her breasts.

It wasn't so easy to get back to sleep with an erection but
I managed it, kissing her back a couple of time before
fading back out.  She didn't seem to be wearing any kind of
perfume but she smelled wonderful to me.

We had another couple of wake-ups during the night but I was
adapting to sharing the bed with her, just as she was
adapting to me.

I woke up in the same spoon position as we'd fallen asleep
together, but this awakening was very different from those
of the night:  I was in the midst of ejaculating, feeling
the spasms propelling a load of DNA out of me towards my
lady love.  I thought it felt like fabric against my tip
so hopefully my seed was confined to my own underwear.

Realizing that my erection was still between her legs and
I'd spurted against her vulva, shielded only by our
underwear, I worried that I'd dropped back from a loving
Prince to a lust-driven animal.  My own muscles spasmed
with my orgasm as I felt the climax finish rolling through
me.  Sally wasn't asleep for this activity which, for me,
brought on a fresh sensation of humiliation.  She knew
what I'd just done.

I didn't even pay attention to her, well, lack of outrage.
Actually, more of a moan.  A *happy* moan.  While I was
busy thinking I was a disgrace, having shown her disrespect
of her body.

How was I to know she didn't see it that way?

Who knew she'd find it sweet and flattering with my animal
nature exposed like this?  I wanted to just die from the
implied disrespect I'd given her.  She deserved a Prince.

When I came down I tried to back off from her since there
was a limit to how much my underwear could catch.  I didn't
want her to "catch" unless she wanted to.

My heart was in my mouth once I backed off enough to discover
my erection sticking out of the fly in my boxers-- which
meant that I'd just soaked her underwear.  I started
apologizing for this to Sally who rolled over and smiled at
me, her right hand reaching for my still erect penis and
gently grasping it.

Then we heard a chuckling from the door and my heart almost
stopped.  I looked over and saw both of her friends, dressed
like Sally each in t-shirt and panties, smiling at us.  An
odd corner of my mind noted the wet spots on their underwear,
not understanding it immediately.

"Sally, we watched it, it looked like fun.  Did you enjoy
yourself?"

Sally had placed her head on my right shoulder and, eyes
closed, she smiled and nodded.  Both of these women came
into the room and Holly surprised me completely by scooping
some of my semen from Sally's freshly wet panties onto her
hand and asking "Sally, why don't you put this where it'll
do some real good?"

I didn't know Sally well enough yet, though her hand on
my dick sure felt good, but I felt this was going WAY too
fast for me.  We needed to slow down a little bit as it
looked like Holly was ready to slip her wet hand into my
bed companion's underwear, so I interrupted the apparent
action by asking "Sally, Hon, I'm worried you could get ...
well, pregnant, just from me wetting your underwear. 
While I do want to keep you, I'm not sure it'd be a good
idea to trap you..."

She looked more upset and I watched Holly reach into Sally's
underwear and rub her crotch while I lay there speechless.
I didn't even consider that Sally didn't act like she was
uncomfortable with her friend having done that.  Heck, she
seemed almost pleased.  Well, her moan said a lot.

I finally found my tongue:  "But you could get her pregnant
by me!  As much as I want her, I don't want her to be stuck
with me!"  Despite the change from frog to Prince, my basic
frog-like insecurities and belief in my inferior nature
returned full force.

Despite my transition the night before, my battle was with
myself.  If you don't think I wanted to make her marry me
by getting her pregnant you've got another think coming.
At the same time I didn't want to hold her back.  I didn't
want to dominate her, either.

I found myself under "my woman" as she climbed on top of me,
my erection once again against the front panel of her
panties.  I could only moan from the sensations.

"So, don't you want to make a baby with me, Jack?"  I could
almost hear a purring sound coming from her.  I was also not
far from spraying her again.

My body was telling me to agree to anything she wanted just
to get her to continue this attention.  All higher levels
of thought were toast.  She was grinding her wet-panty-covered
pubic mound against me and I had to gather my senses before
answering, "Of course I want children by you!  Why wouldn't
I?  But I'm not sure you should want *my* children!"

"Silly man, of course I want children.  Yours would be fine,
right?"

My heart was all confused at this point, wasn't this moving
things ahead more than a little bit?  She was incredibly
aggressive.

Yes, aggressive.  And I *liked* it.

But two can play at that game.  I wanted her, too.  A lot.
To never be alone again.

"Uh, yes, dearest, but I'd think that I'd water down both
the intelligence and beauty of your children.  How can I
ever match you?"

I realized that Holly was holding my erection and then it
felt very good as I was apparently placed at Sally's
vaginal entrance.

I was so close I couldn't stop as I hunched up to get the
head of my penis embedded.  A few quick strokes and again
I started filling her with my seed.  While in the throes
of firing several pulses of semen I moaned out my love for
her, then I heard Sally moan out "Wow, I can feel it..."
just as I was in her to the root.  I also heard Holly, her
hand still on my balls, tell Shelly that she'd felt the
spurts.

If Sally was due to ovulate I'd just made a baby with her.

Did I want to?

Was it fair to do this to her?  (Forgetting for the moment
that it hadn't been my choice.)

As I came down from that high, I held my lover close and
kissed her wherever I could get at her (all over her face)
and told her, "I love you.  I'm all yours, and I hope, Oh,
God, I hope that you're all mine..."

I heard her going "Mmmmmmmm" on my shoulder, my erection
still fully inserted inside this woman.  And it hadn't
gone down yet.

And I knew, just knew, that she sounded happy.  For once,
there was no doubt in my mind.  But I wanted to make her
happier.

Well, part of me was quite capable.  I rolled us over,
not an easy task given my unwillingness to withdraw our
intimate connection, and started stroking her with it.

There is something to being taken by a woman you want.

It is something else to "take" her, knowing that you're
wanted as well.

I took her.  I'd retained my erection but there was no
way I'd be ready to ejaculate any time soon, and it took
a lot of effort and attention on my part to keep myself
erect.

The effort was not lost on Sally.  My effort and attention
to keep my erection were indirect, her moans doing the
most direct work in keeping me at hard.

Well, she arrived suddenly.  Pretty loudly, too.

And, as we calmed down, I kept kissing her and telling her
"I love you..." and hearing the same back.

I'm so glad I didn't just say "thank you".

So we rotated some more on the bed so my weight was off
her.  We kissed some more.

And I'd forgotten our audience.  Who were still in the
room.  Waiting for something.

Suddenly it hit me.  I'd awakened.  And heard the sound
of a tigress purring over her victim.

So I kissed her and said: "Sweetheart, this was all
arranged, wasn't it..."

I could feel her nodding.  Holly and Shelly sat on the bed;
they were nodding as well.

"Would someone care to explain this?  Please?"

The musical voice on my shoulder said "Please don't get mad.
I've wanted you for a long time.  I didn't know what it'd
take to get you to pay enough attention to me.  I've been
trying to get your attention but you always seemed aloof
when it came to me.  Look, you're cute, cuddly and my
brother told me you were a good guy.  He also told me you
were awkward and shy, instead of gay."

I squeezed her in my arms and kissed her again.  I wanted
her to be sure that I was not upset with her.  In any way.

She went on with "Mitch had a situation coming up this week
and he made the suggestion that we get this together so you
would not ignore me. I'd even have my girlfriends to help
me.  Right?"

Holly and Shelly nodded.  Shelly added "And, since Holly and
I are lesbians and Sally wasn't interested in joining us, we
decided to help her get you.  While she doesn't lack for
suitors, few of them are, well, sensitive enough to her."

I squeezed her again, "I'm sorry Sally, it sounds like you
didn't realize I was worshiping you from afar.  I've been
falling for you so long..."

Her sweet voice reached my ears "...and I've been wanting
you, too, for so long.  And to think you're not concerned
with my eyes.  And that's the other reason for my buddies
here."

Now I was puzzled.  I asked her what she meant.  It was
Holly that answered my question, though.

"Well, I'm finishing up my degree in Psychology and got a
good job to start out with doing counseling at a nearby
center.  I've been looking for a place to live and this
apartment is well located.  Shelly has already lined up a
job nearby as a junior engineer.  She'll be taking the
State's P.E. exam in two months' time, once she's moved
in here too."

I just stared at them.  "And this has..."

Sally answered this "Well, I like my work, so a little bit
of help from them-- and you-- will make it easier on me to
care for our baby.  I'm not sure why, but I want a baby.
Or even more than one.  While I'm sure I could cope with
a baby on my own, sharing the work with my friends will be
just a little bit easier.  And the three of us have been
making plans for years, now.  You get babies from me.  Both
Holly and Shelly have planned to get artificially
inseminated for their own.  You get to be a daddy for their
children, too.  We have plans for you."

I pulled Sally closer to me.  "It sounds like you've thought
this out.  I still love you, you know."

I kissed her again.  I'll be damned if I want her to have
any doubt.

I heard the sound of an agreement coming from her before
this kiss broke.  After our lips were no long monopolized,
she added  "And *I* know what I want,"  She squeezed me
tighter with her arms, "And I intend to keep it and take
full advantage of it.  I love you, too."

My doubts were, alas, not completely dead.  So, stupidly,
I asked again, "Why me?  You could do so much better than
me!  Aren't your friends going to be laughing at you?"

Holly answered this: "Jack, look, you're cute, OK?  You're
shy, afraid of hurting her, you don't swagger like you're
God's gift to all women.  In other words, you're harmless.
And she needs a man who won't harm her."

Shelly added, "Actually, I think it's more like he's mostly
harmless.  After all, Sally wants to have his children, you
know."

I felt Sally squeeze me.

"But, Sally, why me?  Specifically?"

Finally, it was Sally who answered, with a real shocker:
"My big brother has told me a lot about you.  He says you're
good at what you do, your income potential is reasonable,
you're promotable and I've liked your looks and your voice.
You've never drooled over me, hounded me for a date or
stalked me.  How's that for starters?  And my brother tells
me that you're fairly shy and unaggressive.  And I got to
chase you down." 

Again, as she warmed me with her tigress' smile, I thought
back to Mitch.

So, Mitch had been watching me for her?  That also triggered
some of my own memories where Mitch talked about Sally as his
"baby" sister.  He'd told me how smart she was and seemed to
arrange a lot of occasions for me to meet and talk to her.

This was quite a set-up.  I'd been stalked like prey and
pounced upon by a woman who I could never dream of hurting,
much less leaving.  My paternal drives were in play.  I was
already driven to protect, comfort and help her any way I
could.

But Mitch...  He'd never told me of her handicap.  I'd need
to ask him why I'd not been warned.  This lack of knowledge
would have allowed me to not be so badly hurt by what I saw
as rejection during the times we'd previously socialized.

So now I had my own image of perfection cuddled up to me, a
load of my semen in her, perhaps making a baby, no, now I
was already hoping my little tadpoles were swimming to make
a baby, and I felt a sense of contentment wash through me.
We shared a kiss, then I got completely shocked when she
pulled away from me and peeled out of her t-shirt and
panties, then she (and her girl-friends) helped undress me
(I slept in my skivvies as well).  Sally told me we needed
to know as much as possible about each others' bodies.  I
managed to get the venue changed to my bedroom and told
Holly and Shelly that the small bed would be theirs.

Seeing her white cane leaning against the nightstand this
morning didn't hurt me as much, now.  Despite the damage
to her eyes, she'd been able to see deep into my soul.

And it was a good thing that I'd retained the tongue from
my time as a frog.  Holly and Shelly helped me learn how
to use it better on my beloved.  Studying anatomy was more
fun when doing it with a lover.

So when we were next coming down from a shared climax, she
said "Yes" to my question, Holly and Shelly as witnesses.

I was hers and she was mine.  She'd been the predator after
all, I the prey.  Yet we both won.

			   Fini

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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