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Subject: {ASSM} Such Things Are Never Done
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Such Things Are Never Done
by Vulgar Argot
(FF, MFF, rom)

All quotes in this story are taken verbatim from "The Good Wife's Guide" in
the May 13, 1955 issue of Housekeeping Monthly. The original article can be
found at http://www.stud.ntnu.no/~shane/stasj/div_bilder/83.html.

If you are reading this article on Usenet, it may be difficult to read due
to the total lack of available formatting in plain text. I highly recommend
you read it at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/VulgarArgot/suchthings.html

Rachel lay back, her breathing shallow, a thin veneer of sweat covering her
from head to toe. Her body quaked with the aftereffects of yet another wave
of pleasure. She'd lost count of how many times she'd come. She always lost
track when Aubrey got at her. Already, the younger girl was expertly
positioning her tongue, running it up and down Rachel's clit, her finger
teasing the rear entrance to her flesh. Truth be told, Rachel never would
have thought of that particular hole as an entrance if it weren't for
Aubrey.

She felt another wave of pleasure coming on when the cuckoo clock in the
living room announced the hour.

"Stop," Rachel called out weakly. Bracing herself against the pleasure, she
said it more emphatically, "Aubrey, stop!"

Aubrey looked up, blonde hair cascading messily down her face and shoulders,
spilling across Rachel's thighs, "You don't really want me to stop, do you,
Mrs. Gutman?"

"God no, you wicked child," said Rachel affectionately, "but Joshua will be
home in an hour and I need to get things ready."

"By my count," said Aubrey, "that leaves us another fifty minutes." She hadn
't taken her finger out of Rachel yet. Now, she twisted it, letting her
knuckle run roughly along the inside of Rachel's sphincter. Rachel bucked
and moaned. She spoke as if Rachel were not at her mercy, "It doesn't take
more than ten minutes for me to throw on enough clothes to go out the back
door-or a window if necessary. When I was dating Ehud, his father came home
one afternoon with a headache. I had to jump out the window and run all the
way back to my parents' house in nothing but my skirt and my sweater."

Rachel knew that Aubrey loved to shock her. She didn't know why. It was such
an easy sport. She would think that her dark, Sephardic complexion would
give her some protection from blushing, but she swore that she turned beet
red almost the first time Aubrey opened her mouth and stayed that color
until a good half hour after the girl left.

"Aubrey," she ordered, "Stop. I mean it."

"What are you going to do," asked Aubrey, stretching languorously and she
withdrew her finger at last, "tell my mother?"

"I should," said Rachel, rising from the bed before Aubrey could get up to
any other mischief, "I worry about you. You don't follow the rules. One day,
you're going to get into trouble you can't wiggle out of."

Aubrey shrugged as she rose, "And you follow too many rules, Mrs. Gutman. We
've had this discussion before. Let's not fight. I hate to fight right
before I leave. It makes me worry all week that you're mad at me. After last
week, I went back to my dormitory and cried."

"I'm sure you could have walked out to the quad and found any number of
young men to comfort you," said Rachel, reattaching her pearl earrings.
After they were on, she was still without a stitch of clothing. Still, she
felt much less naked.

"Goyim," said Aubrey contemptuously, "the same sort who wanted to 'comfort'
me all through high school. No, thank you."

Rachel stood with her hands on her hips, "Aubrey, we've had this discussion
before. You can't be contemptuous of goyim. You're a shiksa. In fact, you're
the most shiksa shiksa I've ever seen. So tall and strong and Aryan."

"Please," said Aubrey, flinches as if Rachel had threatened to hit her, "don
't use that word. I hate that word."

Rachel tried to cover it up by continuing, "Blonde hair, blue eyes, that
pert little nose. God, I love that nose," she took Aubrey's face in her
hands and kissed the appendage in question, "But, we can't keep doing this.
You need to find yourself a good husband, have some children, settle down.
You can't go chasing after old Jewish wives for the rest of your life."

"You're not old," said Aubrey, "We were in school together less than two
years ago. Besides, I'm not about to get married while I'm still in college.
Once I graduate, I'm going to Europe. I'm going to study painting, so I can
be as good as you."

"If you go all the way to Europe and only come back as good as me," said
Rachel, "I would ask for a refund. Now, stop distracting me. You always
leave me hurrying to get ready for Mr. Gutman. If there had been time last
week, I would have turned you over my knee for that trick you pulled."

Aubrey's eyes widened, "It was an honest mistake. But, far be it from me to
let that get in the way of a good spanking."

Rachel felt the blush rise again. It never really receded while Aubrey was
here. But, she couldn't let the statement go unchallenged, "All of a sudden,
I said to myself, 'I must really be getting the hang of this. She's never
wrapped her legs around me this tightly before. I only hope I can hear the
cuckoo clock when it goes off. Then, I look up and I've got less than a half
hour to get ready. Sometimes, I swear you want my husband to catch us."

"What does it take you an hour to do?" asked Rachel, "The place is spotless.
You made the pork chops before we started-very trayf, by the way. If you."

"What does it take so long to do?" asked Rachel, "You should know. You gave
me the article." She pointed at the frame on the wall.

"As a joke," said Aubrey, "It was supposed to be a joke. I can't believe you
've joined the cult of the happy homemaker."

"That's easy for you to say," said Rachel somewhat wearily, "You already fit
in. You date Jewish boys and seduce married women and no one notices because
you look like you belong here. For Joshua and me, we have to work twice as
hard. Everyone knows we don't fit in. That," she pointed at the framed
article again, "is the Protocol of the Elders of Peoria. That's the sacred
path for fitting in here. If we didn't, people might think we were
communists. We could end up like the poor Rosenbergs."

"I can't help the way I look," said Aubrey, "So, what do you do off of this
list?"

"Everything," said Rachel, stepping into the bathroom, "if I can. Now, if
you will excuse me, I need to take care of the second point."



"Prepare yourself. Take fifteen minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when
he arrives. Touch up your make-up, put a ribbon in your hair and be
fresh-looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people." -TGWG



"Is that why you wear those ridiculous ribbons," asked Aubrey, "because of
this?"

"Yes," called Rachel from the shower, shouting to be heard over the water,
"don't you like them?"

"Not really," said Aubrey. Somehow, she had slipped silently into the
bathroom. She stepped into the shower behind Rachel, taking the
French-milled soap from Rachel's hands-the one she'd given the older woman
as a gift after their first encounter-and rubbing it all over Rachel's body,
"You have such beautiful, curly hair. Ribbons are made for flat hair like
mine."

"Joshua likes them," said Rachel, "he told me so. I know he loves taking
them off."

"I remember," said Aubrey. Then, she stiffened, "Oh, Rachel. I'm sorry. I
didn't mean to."

Rachel turned to face Aubrey, quieting her with a kiss, "Silly girl. How
many times do I have to tell you? If you weren't dating Joshua, I would
never have met him. I have my whole life to thank you for. I don't begrudge
you your past with my dear, sweet wonderful husband."



"Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and
faces, comb their hair, and, if necessary, change their clothes." -TGWG



Aubrey looked like she was going to cry, "Oh, Rachel," she whispered, "you'
re the best friend I've ever had. Promise we'll always be friends."

Rachel smiled at Aubrey, taking the soap away from her and lathering her up.
Unlike Rachel, she worked efficiently and quickly, knowing time was of the
essence, "You're such a child some times. Of course we'll always be
friends."

Aubrey asked, "Rachel, is it okay for friends to talk about things among
themselves, things it would not be acceptable to talk about in public?"

"You of all people should not have to ask," said Rachel, "You could make a
sailor blush with that potty mouth of yours."

Aubrey took a deep breath. For a few seconds, it seemed like she wouldn't
speak. Then, she said, "Would it be so awful, if Josh caught us together? I
mean, we've all."

Rachel slid past Aubrey, "Rinse yourself off," she said. Aubrey stood under
the nozzle, rubbing the soap off of herself. When she was done, Rachel
turned off the shower, "Come dry me off. I need to get dressed."

Aubrey looked miserable, "Rachel, I'm sorry. I."

"I think it would be awful if he caught us together," said Rachel, "if that'
s what you were trying to do last week, you should have asked me. Fetch my
hairbrush from the dresser, would you?"

Aubrey brought her the hairbrush. Once she had it, Rachel wielded it
smoothly, stepped around behind Aubrey and smacked her hard on the bottom
with it. It made a resounding smack. Aubrey glared at her as she proceeded
to brush her hair. Then, she started laughing.

"I warned you," said Rachel, "I should do that far more often." Aubrey
rubbed the red spot on her behind. Rachel went on, "Josh is still a little
afraid of you. He thinks you're crazy and unpredictable and I am inclined to
agree with him. The most awkward silence in our marriage came when I told
him you were my new classroom assistant. If he had any idea of what we did
while he was at work, he would probably die from embarrassment."

"I'm sorry." Aubrey started again.

"Besides," said Rachel, "such things are never done."

"You mean like what we just did?" asked Aubrey.

Rachel sighed, "You sound a lot like Joshua sometimes. He once told me you
had the reincarnated soul of a Talmud scholar-not that he believes in
reincarnation, of course."

"Maybe," said Aubrey, "you should have me over for dinner tonight. Maybe, he
just needs to see me in familiar settings. We haven't seen each other for a
long time."

"I would die of embarrassment," said Rachel, "I'm blushing already."

"Come on," said Aubrey, zipping up Rachel's house dress for her, "It would
be like old times. Remember how I used to 'chaperone' for you two at your
little picnics?"

"See?" said Rachel, pointing to her now-crimson face, "already, death is
setting in. Oh, heck. Would you throw some clothes on and put the pork chops
in the oven, please. I need to make up the bed and finish my hair and
jewelry."

"Sure," said Aubrey, skipping out of the room.

"In that order," called Rachel, "What would you do if Joshua walked in the
door right now?"

"I would say, 'Hello, Joshua,' and hand him a drink," said Aubrey, "like you
do. We can't have his schedule disrupted by inconvenient nudity."

"You're shameless," said Rachel as her friend came back towards the room,
"Do you know that?"

Aubrey nodded, kissing Rachel briskly on the mouth as she walked past, "Yes.
I know. Now, would it be all right for your shameless friend to stay over
for dinner? It looks like you're making plenty, even if you intend on
leaving one pork chop for Elijah."

Rachel was shocked, "Aubrey, you never miss an opportunity to blaspheme, do
you? How can I invite you to dinner if you say such things?"

"If I promise to behave, can I stay for dinner? Please, Mrs. Gutman?"

Rachel sighed, "I'll ask Joshua."

By Aubrey's smile, she knew she had won. Joshua would never acknowledge that
he was uncomfortable around her, "Thank you, Rachel," she said, leaning up
to kiss her on the neck.



"Your goal: Try to make sure your home is a place of peace, order, and
tranquility where your husband can renew himself in body and spirit." -TGWG



Rachel swatted her away, giggling, "Cut it out, Aubrey. I'm holding you to
your promise to behave while he's here and not embarrass me or him. He's
having a really hard time at the plant and his home should be his sanctuary
from all that. Now, finish getting dressed and go sit on the couch. I need
to tidy."



"Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the
house just before your husband arrives.Gather up schoolbooks, toys, paper,
etc. and then run a dustcloth over the tables." -TGWG



Rachel did her daily circuit of the house, adjusting items a fraction of an
inch, pulling the door to her perpetually-chaotic studio firmly closed. She
knew that Joshua respected her privacy and wouldn't go uninvited into her
studio if the door were wide open. But, even the sight of its paint-specked
door ruined the otherwise perfect impression her living room gave off.

Sitting down on the far side of the couch Aubrey had taken up her perch on,
Rachel said, "He should be walking in that door any second."



"Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late." -TGWG



"Well," asked Aubrey, "where is he? If he were going to be late, he could
have at least called from the office. It would have given us more time."

"Aubrey," said Rachel sharply again. Then, more gently, she added, "I'm sure
he's just caught in traffic."

A few more minutes passed. Then, Aubrey asked, "Would it be all right to
have a drink while we waited for the king to arrive at his castle?"

"I'd rather we didn't," said Rachel, "I'd hate for him to feel like we'd
started without him."

Realizing that Aubrey was shaking with barely-contained mirth, Rachel glared
at her, "Aubrey!"

"I didn't say anything," protested Aubrey.

"No, but I could hear what you were thinking from here," said Rachel.

"You should turn off the oven before the pork chops dry out," suggested
Aubrey. Rachel leapt to her feet, walked quickly to the kitchen, and turned
off the oven, opening it to let its heat into the room. As she did, she saw
her husband's car pulling into the driveway. She waved to Aubrey, "Josh is
here. Pour a drink."

"It's about time," said Aubrey.

"For him, Aubrey," warned Rachel.



"Be happy to see him.Greet him with a warm smile to show sincerity in your
desire to please him.Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.Don't greet him
with complaints and problems." -TGWG



Aubrey was standing right next to Rachel, handing her the drink she'd mixed
so that Rachel could hand it to her husband. Unfortunately, Joshua had
sprinted up the sidewalk and caught them unawares. He was pulling off his
shirt and undershirt as he came in the door.

"Rachel," he said, holding the shirts in his hand, looking helpless, "Could
you do something about this, please? I was making a quick note in the
driveway and I got ink on both shirts."

"Of course," said Rachel, exchanging the drink she'd just been handed for
the dirty shirts, "It's good to see you, dear."

"You, too," said Joshua, "I'm sorry if I'm a little scatterbrained today. I
had an awful day at work." Looking up from his drink, he noticed Aubrey for
the first time. A smile crossed his face, "Aubrey Delmartre, as I live and
breathe. How long has it been?"

"Almost two years," said Aubrey, giving him a warm smile, "Not since
graduation." She eyed him frankly, "It's good to see that you've been taking
care of yourself."

"Err, yes," said Joshua, "Sorry about that. I didn't know you were here. I'
ll go get another shirt. It's just that those dress shirts are so darned
expensive."



"Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or have him
lie down in the bedroom.Arrange his pillows and offer to take off his
shoes." -TGWG



"I'll get it," called Rachel from the bedroom in a singsong, "Those shirts
need to soak anyway. I should be able to keep them from staining." She came
out with a t-shirt, slippers, and a shoehorn. After Joshua had taken the
shirt, she crouched at his feet and removed his shoes. Rolling up his pants
legs, she undid his garters and peeled off his socks as well.



"Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the
moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first. Remember [that]
his topics of conversation are more important than yours." -TGWG



"So," she asked, receding back into the bedroom, "what happened to make
today so awful?"

"Nothing extraordinary," said Joshua, "That's the whole problem. You'd think
they could live without an accountant at all for the amount of respect I
get. We give them spreadsheets and they come back an hour later and say,
'What if we changed this assumption?' Then, it takes another three days to
do a new spreadsheet. And, they just don't understand why it takes so much
time. I don't know if I can take another forty years of this."



"Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgment or
integrity. Remember. He is the master of the house and as such will always
exercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to
question him." -TGWG



Rachel said, "But, you do such good work. Why don't they appreciate you
more?"

Joshua waved the question off. They both knew the answer. Instead of
answering, he said, "Actually, there was a bit of good news today. Ron
Provost called me today."

"Oh?" asked Rachel, "the one from the government?"

"Yes," said Joshua, "We had a long talk. It seems they're frantic about the
Sputniks. Big plans are in the works. He says they're going to need a ton of
people with my background for a big project in Florida. He guaranteed me a
job if I wanted to go. It would be a chance to work in the field I actually
studied. So, what would you think about moving to Florida?"

 Rachel glanced at Aubrey, whose face was impassive. Her own heart sank.
Still, what she said was, "I'm sure whatever you decide will be the right
decision. I go where you go."

Joshua glared at her, "What kind of answer is that? Are you afraid to talk
in front of Aubrey?"

"I can go," said Aubrey.

"No," said Rachel, "I'm just sure that whatever decision you make will be
for the best."

"Rachel, you're talking nonsense," said Joshua. He turned on Aubrey, "Is
this your doing? Every time she mentions you, it seems like she's bought
some new folderol from those women's magazines. Are you smuggling them to
her?"

"I didn't mean to," said Aubrey, "I just thought they were funny. I didn't
know she would take them so seriously."

"Rachel, I want to know what you think or I wouldn't have asked," said
Joshua more gently, "I married you at least partially for the amazing mind
that you keep behind that beautiful face of yours."

Rachel blushed, "Joshua, not in front of company."

"Aubrey's not company," said Joshua, "she's practically family. You two were
inseparable during college. Besides, if I remember correctly, I would bet
that she could have us both blushing red as beets in about five minutes flat
if she chose to."



"Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before, to have a delicious
meal ready, on time for his return." -TGWG



"Of that, I have no doubt," said Rachel, rising, "Dinner is ready. Why don't
you wash your hands and come to the table?"

"Smells good," said Joshua. As he disappeared into the bathroom, he called,
"Aubrey, what are you doing here today?"

"Your wife," said Aubrey, who then took a long draught from her drink,
extending the pause. Rachel nearly dropped the pan of pork chops before
getting it on the board in the middle of the table, "offered to help me with
my painting in return for my posing for her."

Joshua came out of the bathroom, hands extended like a surgeon, "You should
see her work. She's really good."

"I know," said Aubrey, "Have you seen the portrait she did of me?"

Rachel blanched. How could Aubrey even bring that painting up? Her face
burned with embarrassment and shame.

"No," said Joshua, "I haven't. Is it a good likeness?"

"Definitely," said Aubrey, "quite realistic."

"I'll have to see it, then," said Joshua, "maybe after dinner. Would that be
okay, honey?"

"Aubrey flatters me," said Rachel, "It's really not very good. It doesn't
look like her at all. It looks more like." she struggled for a name that
would be credible, "Marilyn Monroe."

"Oh, well," said Joshua, "I certainly wouldn't want to see it then." Rachel
breathed a sigh of relief before she saw the rakish smile on her husband's
lips that meant that she'd been tricked.

"Oh," she said lovingly, "you're impossible. Now, come to dinner."

As they ate, Joshua and Aubrey caught up on old times. True to her word,
Aubrey mostly behaved herself. A couple of her answers could be considered
innuendo. But, it was subtle and possibly all in Rachel's imagination.

"So," asked Joshua, "how long have you been posing for Rachel?"

"About a month," said Aubrey, "not every day of course. But, she was
complaining about not being able to find any appropriate models around here,
so I volunteered."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Joshua asked Rachel.

Rachel said, "You just seemed so awkward every time I mentioned Aubrey, I
didn't want to bring it up and make you uncomfortable."

Joshua laughed, "I was uncomfortable because I thought you two didn't like
each other. You always seemed to come over all queer whenever you ran into
each other during the last semester of school. I thought you had some sort
of tiff."

Rachel remembered. During the winter break, Aubrey had kissed her. Rachel
had been shocked, but not disgusted. Somehow, she was not able to
communicate the difference until she got a chance, more than a year later,
to kiss her back. She hadn't known what to expect after that, but Aubrey had
taken the lead. Until that second kiss, Aubrey had been a very awkward topic
of conversation for her. After the kiss, she'd become an incredibly awkward
topic of conversation.

"We patched it up," said Aubrey, smiling.

After dinner, Aubrey and Rachel cleared the table while Joshua sat in the
living room, reading the American Journal of Mathematics. Once the dishes
were done, all three sat in the living room for drinks and cigarettes.
Rachel found herself drinking more heavily than usual. She knew that she
would need the fortification if she were going to survive showing Joshua the
painting she'd done of Aubrey without spontaneously combusting from
embarrassment. Soon, she was surrounded by a warm haze of alcohol and smoke.
She watched Aubrey and Joshua interact. They were animated and friendly.
Despite the fact that Joshua sat in his chair and Aubrey on the couch, it
was obvious to Rachel that they were deliberately not touching each other.
They were engaging in an elaborate dance to spare her feelings. They always
had. If religion hadn't mattered, Rachel was sure they would have been
engaged or married before she ever met either of them. She searched her mind
for jealousy over the idea and found a faintly glowing green patch of it
near her fear of the Soviets and fluoridation of public drinking water. She
nursed it, worrying it like she would a sore tooth with her tongue.

She felt the familiar dull ache of jealousy over anything she had to share
Joshua's time with. Given her druthers, she would have liked to keep Joshua
with her all day, touching him, smelling him, tasting him. She had carefully
learned all of her wifely duties, but had some that she enjoyed far more
than others. But, she knew that she couldn't have him like that. Beyond the
mere practicality of needing a job, the six weeks between graduation and
starting his job in the accounting department at the factory, he had paced
the apartment they shared like a caged tiger. They had made love often,
then-abruptly and violently. In some ways, Rachel had wished it could last
forever, but knew it was born of Joshua's dissatisfaction with inaction.

So, she had learned to let go, to control the irrational jealousy that she
felt for everything that took her husband away from her, even for a minute.

She'd come to worry every time she saw Aubrey that Joshua would find out
about it and she would lose both of them. At first, it hadn't felt like
cheating at all, only perversion. But, those first awkward fumblings and
even later, more skillful forays into Sapphic exploration had not made her
feel like she was being unfaithful. What she did with Aubrey had nothing in
common with what she did with Joshua. It wasn't until later, when she and
Aubrey moved from the uncomfortable floor of her studio to her marital bed
that Rachel really began to feel like what she was doing was cheating on
Joshua.

She loved them both so much. She didn't want to lose either her husband or
her dearest friend. Now, Joshua had informed her that they would be moving
to Florida, thousands of miles away from Illinois. He had done what he could
to include her in the decision, but how could she say, "no?" She knew how
miserable his job made him sometimes. She knew how he hated not being able
to use all of the higher math he had studied in school. And, she couldn't
even explain to him why she didn't want to leave Peoria. What would she say?
"Because my lover, the woman with whom I share your bed while you're at
work, is here."  She did not think it would work well.

But, there was another option-one in which she might keep both of them. She
knew in her heart that she would never lose Joshua to Aubrey, not any more
than he had been lost to her before Aubrey had introduced them. Of course,
such things were never done. But, that was a phrase she'd heard much of her
life. The first time she'd told her parents she wanted to study art history,
they said it to her. When she had first seen Simeon Solomon's Sappho and
Erinna at Mytelene and asked a few faltering questions of her professor, she
'd heard it. When her first lover, a doe-eyed, nervous young woman from
Chicago, had asked Rachel to run away with her to Europe where attitudes
were less stringent about such things, she'd said it herself. Even when she
said it to Aubrey now, she didn't believe it. Or, if she did believe it, she
didn't care. If they're never done, she decided, we will be the first.

She'd known since she was a little girl that it was her job to get married
and make Jewish babies. It was part of her covenant with God. Even if she
had abandoned kosher dietary laws and attended the local Lutheran church
with Joshua and all of his coworkers, she'd always kept that covenant close
to her heart. What choice did she have? When she was small, her parents had
tried to shield her from news of the war and the atrocities that had been
discovered there. While they had succeeded in most of the particulars, she
had gotten the main point: There are people in the world who want to kill
every Jew that walks the planet. If we do not make more Jews, they will
succeed without firing a shot.

She loved Joshua. In that, she had been lucky. But, she had chosen him
because he was a good, strong Jewish boy who wanted good, strong Jewish
babies and, incidentally, her. He had been so sweet and patient and gentle
with her for a long time. In time, she had come to crave him and his touch.
She had expected marriage to be a duty, something to be endured for the sake
of her people. She had not expected it to be something she could not live
without once she had it.

She knew Joshua felt the same way. He had been cordial to her at first,
courting her vigorously if not passionately. He'd been quietly seeing Aubrey
during his first two years of college, knowing that it was a fling that
would have to end. Aubrey herself had chosen Rachel for him, introduced
them, and propelled them forward. In time, Joshua had come to forget his
beautiful shiksa as anything other than a pleasant memory and friend of his
fiancée..

Rachel refused to lose either of them. When a break in the conversation
came, she asked, "Joshua, how soon would we go to Florida if we were to go?"

"Four months," said Joshua, "We could go sooner, but the job starts in four
months. I asked Ron Provost and he said there would be plenty of need for
teachers down there."

Rachel made her decision, but for the sake of conversation, she said, "I
would have to leave in March, then? I wouldn't be able to finish out the
school year?"

"I'm afraid so," said Joshua, "Congressmen are screaming about how the
Soviets will use their superior science to launch a first strike from space.
Suddenly, everything has to be done now."

"Is Bradley Carmichael joining the project?" asked Rachel. She barely knew
the effeminate young man, except that he was a fellow mathematician they had
gone to school with and what was euphemistically called a confirmed
bachelor.

"I would have to check," said Joshua, "We haven't really kept in touch. Why
do you ask?"

"I was just wondering if we would know anyone down there," lied Rachel, "If
he's not working on the project, you may want to suggest he find out about
it."

"That's a good idea," said Joshua, "only it's high security. The Pentagon
boys might give him more of a look if he would settle down and get married."
Rachel knew that Joshua was repeating the polite fiction to remind her that
he wasn't really acceptable to the military.

"I imagine we could find him somebody," said Rachel, glancing meaningfully
at Aubrey. Drink and the wild idea had made her bold. Aubrey looked at her
questioningly. Joshua raised an eyebrow, but whether to question her sanity
or congratulate her for a brilliant and subtle plan, Rachel didn't know.

Finishing her drink, Rachel said, "So, did you want to see this painting of
Aubrey?" Before Joshua could answer either way, she said, "I just need to
powder my nose."

When she emerged from the bathroom, Rachel did not hesitate. She led Joshua
and Aubrey into the room she used for her studio. Even with all the windows
open and the mosquito screens down, it smelled powerfully of oil-based
paints and turpentine. Taking the covered canvas from behind a stack of
other paintings, she placed it on the easel, then stepped back, standing
between Joshua and Aubrey.

Joshua looked at her quizzically. She said, "Go ahead. Uncover it."

To hear his gasp, Rachel would have thought that Joshua had just
accidentally stripped Aubrey herself naked. Aubrey gasped too, even though
she'd seen the piece before-herself, sitting with legs crossed, reclining
against an urn. Rachel was particularly proud of the urn, since she had
painted it from memory. Rachel had only been leaning against a wall, holding
her back arched.

Rachel had deliberately left the studio lights off, relying on the lights
from the living room and the moon through the skylight overhead. It added a
sense of magic to the scene.

Before anyone could respond beyond the initial gasps, Rachel glided up
behind Joshua, wrapping herself around his arm, "Remarkable likeness, isn't
it?"

Joshua's eyes looked pained, "I.I don't know. I don't remember."

"Yes, you do," whispered Rachel, "Look at her."

Aubrey said, "Rachel."

Rachel put a finger on Aubrey's lips. Aubrey closed her eyes and drew in a
deep breath through her nose.

"Hush," said Rachel, "you want this as much as he does." She took a breath,
willing herself to tell a small lie, "and so do I."

Joshua still looked like he didn't understand or didn't accept what he did
understand. Rachel said, "If you don't remember, this will help." She
reached out to Aubrey and began to unbutton her friend's sweater, letting
her palms stroke Aubrey gently through the soft, white angora. Aubrey kept
her eyes closed. Joshua stood stock still, unwilling to move or break the
spell. As she unbuttoned, Rachel moved around behind Aubrey, hidden from
Joshua's view except for her hands, stripping the sweater away, leaving
Aubrey, with her bra exposed, her flesh even paler in the moonlight.

As Rachel ran her hands over Aubrey's belly, Joshua took Rachel's wrist and
whispered, "Why?" Rachel answered by coming around Aubrey, going up on
tiptoe and kissing her on the mouth. Aubrey kissed her back, sweetly, with
just a hint of desperate passion.

Rachel was so afraid at that moment. Joshua had always been open-minded. He'
d never asked why she didn't bleed the first time they made love. He had
listened with quiet interest when she spoke passionately about pieces of art
she knew her parents and even some of her professors would say were not
appropriate subject matter for a young lady to study. The only thing she'd
ever seen him inflexible about was that he must marry a Jewish girl and make
Jewish babies. Still, she'd never seen him confronted with such a level of
perversion as she had just presented him. She wished she could turn around
and see him or that Aubrey would open her eyes, see him, and react so that
Rachel could read her own fate in her friend's eyes.

It seemed to Rachel like the kiss lasted a year and a day, even though it
was only seconds. She shivered, sensing Joshua's touch before she felt it.
Then, his hands were on her shoulders, his lips on her neck. Rachel began to
cry in relief. When his hands began undoing the buttons of her housedress,
she broke the kiss with Aubrey to turn and kiss him. Aubrey began kissing
the back of her neck, undoing the zipper that would get her out of her dress
far faster than the mostly decorative buttons that Joshua was focused on.

"Rachel," whispered Joshua.

"Joshua," she whispered back. Then, reaching back to cup her lover's head in
her arm, she said, "Aubrey."

She was out of her dress, then, dressed in only stockings, garters and a
bra. She shivered against the cold.

"Not here," she said, "it's too cold." As soon as she said it, Joshua had
her up, over his shoulder, held like a gunny sack. Rachel squealed in
protest, but he was fierce now and she didn't really want him to stop
anyway. In the tiny apartment they'd had before he started work, they played
games like this, where she would try to evade him and he would, invariable,
catch her up in his strong arms and carry her flailing form to the bed.
Except for the flailing, he did that now. Aubrey followed, looking as
devilish as Rachel had ever seen her.

In the bedroom, Joshua flung her violently on the bed. Rachel let out a
whoosh of air when she landed. Before she could recover her wits, she was
flanked by a lover on either side. One of them, she didn't know who, had
stripped off her bra, leaving her in only her silk stocking and garters. The
stockings were one of the few indulgences she allowed herself and she had
always taken them off before coming to bed. They stayed on now, as hands
stroked her from either side. Joshua loomed over her, hand on one breast,
mouth and tongue on the other. Rachel moaned loudly when she felt Aubrey's
finger slide inside of her, teasing her already-resonant clit.



"Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day may
need a lift and one of your duties is to provide it." -TGWG



"I love you both," Rachel cried out, louder than she meant to. But, she was
already being overwhelmed by the pleasure of both of them touching her, so
different, but driving towards the same goal.

"I love you, Rachel," said Joshua.

"And I love you, Rachel," said Aubrey.

They didn't say they loved each other. As much as they could, they still
didn't touch each other. Rachel didn't worry. She knew it would come. Both
focused their energy on pleasuring her, teasing and touching her.

Embarrassed by being the center of all of the attention, Rachel rolled over
on top of Aubrey, pinning her down. Despite the girl's squeals and protests,
she slid her fingers inside of Aubrey, taking her from both entrances as
Aubrey had often done to her, but she had never been able to see past the
shame of even considering it. Aubrey's eyes widened in surprise, but Rachel
kissed her passionately on the mouth, tongue exploring like it was a man's,
silencing her.

Rachel knew that she was ignoring Joshua for a moment. She'd felt his
stiffening, so ready to take her. Now, he would have to wait a few minutes
while she had her way with Aubrey. After all, how could he take her if she
had her back to him?

Rachel discovered the answer to that question rather suddenly as Joshua
positioned himself behind her, spread her legs, and entered. She gasped in
surprise and pleasure. He was savage, driving into her, claiming her and
sharing her at the same time. Rachel had never been taken from this angle
before. A few times, she had enjoyed sitting on top of Joshua, rocking her
hips back and forth, feeling sophisticated and daring. Otherwise, Joshua had
always been on top of her.

As Joshua drove into Rachel, she felt him press up against her in places
that had never been touched. For a minute or so, the pleasure was too
intense for her body to coalesce into an orgasm. She felt light-headed,
wondering if she was going to pass out. Aubrey bucked underneath her,
consumed by her own pleasure. Soon, Rachel came too, as hard as she could
ever remember coming. And, she kept coming. Her body shuddered violently at
the sensory overload she was being fed.

She was bucking up hard against Joshua now, pounding back against his hips
as hard as she could. She had gradually slid off of Aubrey as their bodies
grew slick with sweat. Joshua lasted longer than she would have expected. In
the past, when he had shown such vigor, it had usually meant that their
lovemaking would be intense, but relatively brief. Now, he seemed determined
to drive her to madness with pleasure. Rachel welcomed the madness.
Everything they had done tonight was madness. But, as she felt Joshua
building towards climax, she leaned back to whisper in his ear, "Don't
finish yet."

Joshua seemed startled by the request. It was not one Rachel had ever made
before. Feeling a sudden surge indicating that the request had been
counterproductive, she bit him hard on the earlobe. He gave a little yelp of
pain, but she could feel him draw back from the edge again.

He was taking her slowly now, "What was that for?" he asked the back of her
head.

"Kiss her," Rachel growled.

"What?" asked Joshua.

"Kiss her," said Rachel, "make love to her. I watched you two not touching
each other for two years for my sake. I do not intend to watch it one minute
more."

"But." said Joshua.

"Do it," commanded Rachel shakily.

Joshua nodded against Rachel's shoulder before sliding slowly out of her. He
looked down at Aubrey, who stared up at him, eyes bright with pleasure,
longing, and acceptance.

Lying on top of Aubrey, Joshua slid inside of her. She rose to meet him,
letting out a moan of pleasure and relief. Rachel rolled on her side so that
she could stroke Aubrey's hair with one hand, the other laid flat against
the small of Joshua's back, driving him forward. He didn't need any
prompting. His breathing came ragged already. Rachel knew that it wouldn't
last very long. Aubrey seemed to know too as she pushed her hips into him
and gave a small squeak on each thrust.

Soon, Rachel could feel the muscles of Joshua's buttocks tightening as he
strained against climax. She reached between her husband and her lover,
pinching Aubrey's nipple hard between thumb and forefinger. As Rachel knew
it would, this drove Aubrey over the edge into another orgasm. As soon as it
started, Joshua began to tremble all over, coming hard into Aubrey as he
did.

The three of them lay together, Rachel pressed against Joshua's back, her
hand on Aubrey's bottom, Joshua and Aubrey lying face to face, too spent to
move far from where they had finished. All six of their legs intertwined.

"So," asked Joshua finally, "now what?"

"Tomorrow," said Rachel, "you are to call Bradley Carmichael. I want you to
meet him, Aubrey. I think he would make you a good husband."

"I don't know," said Joshua, "he hasn't shown any real interest in being
married."

"When you call him," said Rachel as if she had not been interrupted, "tell
him about the project in Florida. Remind him how much easier it would be for
him to get clearance if he had a wife. Then, tell him you want him to meet
Aubrey. Make sure you do it in that order."

"Do I get any say in this?" asked Aubrey.

"Of course," said Rachel, "you get all the say. It's up to you to decide if
you want to marry him or not. All that I know is that, in four months, Josh
and I are moving to Florida. In six months, you are graduating and will be
looking for a teaching job. There are plenty of teaching jobs in Florida."

"I still want to go to Europe," said Aubrey. But, it didn't have much force
behind it.

"Fine," said Rachel, "so, come to Florida, with or without Bradley. Then,
once Joshua has made the world safe for democracy, we'll all go to Europe."

Joshua chuckled, "When did you get so bossy? I thought you were a good
wife." In a different tone of voice, it would be a stinging rebuke, but his
voice was too full of mirth.

"I don't know," said Rachel, "Tonight has just been very liberating."

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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