Message-ID: <45672asstr$1070316604@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Originating-Email: [gmwylie98260@hotmail.com] From: "Gina Marie Wylie" <gmwylie98260@hotmail.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <BAY7-F49d9Ee4zadTMV0001ff61@hotmail.com> X-OriginalArrivalTime: 01 Dec 2003 13:24:18.0945 (UTC) FILETIME=[6CB65F10:01C3B80E] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 01 Dec 2003 06:24:03 -0700 Subject: {ASSM} Tom's Diary 3-23-03 {Gina Marie Wylie} (teen, mF, con) Date: Mon, 1 Dec 2003 17:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2003/45672> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, newsman _________________________________________________________________ Say "goodbye" to busy signals and slow downloads with a high-speed Internet connection! Prices start at less than $1 a day average. https://broadband.msn.com (Prices may vary by service area.) <1st attachment, "Tom's_Diary_3-23-02.doc" begin> +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The following is fiction of an adult nature. If I believed in setting age limits for things, you'd have to be eighteen to read this and I'd never have bothered to write it. IMHO, if you can read and enjoy, then you're old enough to read and enjoy. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ All persons here depicted are figments of my imagination and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly a blunder on my part. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Official stuff: Story codes: teen, mF, con. If stories like this offend you, you will offend ME if you read further and complain. Copyright 2003, by Gina Marie Wylie. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I can be reached at gmwylie98260@hothothotmail.com, at least if you remove some of the hots. All comments and reasoned discussion welcome. Below is my site on ASSTR: <a href="http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Gina_Marie_Wylie/www/">http://www.asstr.o rg/files/Authors/Gina_Marie_Wylie/www/</a> My stories are also posted on StoriesOnline: http://Sstoriesonline.net/ ------------------------- Saturday, March 23, 2002 I woke up later than usual, half past seven, and I spent a few minutes looking at Jenny, her face peaceful in sleep. I leaned down and kissed her lightly, and she opened one eye. "Gonna sleep," she muttered. I got out of bed, tucking her in. I put on jeans and a t-shirt, and went out to the kitchen to find something to drink. My dad was doing the same thing, and he glanced at me. "Want to go for a walk?" I contemplated that, decided that walking was just part of his purpose, so I nodded. We went outside, hardly 8 am in mid-March in Phoenix. It was only in the low 60's, it had been cool this year and we had yet to punch through to 90 for the first time since Thanksgiving. Dad set a brisk pace, and I concentrated on keeping up. After a bit, a jogger passed us and I laughed once she was out of earshot. "I remember you telling me about joggers." He smiled; evidently he remembered too. Jogging, Dad said, jarred the brain; it produced these chemicals called endorphins to make it feel better. Runners, he said, were druggies, looking for a high. A brisk walk, he told me, did everything a doctor could want, so far as exercise was concerned. "How are you holding up?" he asked. I laughed, "I'm not in that bad of shape." He shook his head. "I was thinking more of the recent cornucopia of convivial concubines that have taken, of late, to making your life more pleasant." "Nothing to complain about there, that's for sure," I said with male macho certitude. "I'm a bit jealous, you know. You're just sixteen; it didn't happen to me until I was twenty," he puffed a theatric sigh. "The top years of my sex life, with only my hand for solace." I blushed, never having had quite this frank of a discussion with my father before. Funny, I hadn't blushed last night when I'd told Jenny I was going to do that to pleasure myself. "Once upon a time, a long time ago," he went on, unaware or unconcerned about me embarrassing myself, "I went to college. There I met Craig Summers, and we became roommates. I was an engineering major, he was after an MBA. We became friends, then good friends, then best friends. "One Friday afternoon in the spring he brought his sister, Ellen, over to our dorm; she was a high school senior and wanted to see life at the big University. We had dinner in a pizza place, and then he took her back home for the weekend. "That summer, Craig wanted to move into an apartment; for him, school and expenses weren't a factor. He was smart; his parents were rich. I had to work at my grades, and I had to work, period. "We made an arrangement; I would do the housework in the apartment, something Craig loathed, in turn, I got to stay in a very much nicer place than I could ever have afforded on my own, for a fifth of the cost, rather than halves. "We'd been in the apartment less than a week when he told me that Ellen was going to come and stay the weekend. I made some comment about how the couch was pretty comfortable to sleep on and he laughed. 'That's a good thing, Dave.' "'Why's that a good thing?' I asked him back. "'You're my friend, right? You'd never rat me out to anyone? Right?' "'I am,' I told him, 'your only friend.' "Craig thought that was funny, and shook his head "'Dave, Ellen is my friend too... and she and I are going to be sharing the bedroom and you're going to be on the couch, deaf, dumb and blind about what you see and hear.'" My dad paused, looking around at the blue sky. "I thought about pointing out that Ellen was his sister, but I didn't. After a while, Craig explained about her getting pregnant in 7th grade; like him, I wanted to find the creep and pulverize him. "After that, Ellen spent a lot of the summer in the apartment; her parents had never forgiven her for getting pregnant, they weren't terribly happy about Craig helping her get an abortion. "Still, life went on. I wished I had a girl friend, but I didn't. I wished for a lot of things. In the fall, Ellen was at the university too, but in the dorm. She was swamped with school, new friends and all that stuff. "One day I was sitting in the apartment and Ellen came in. I told her that Craig was in Phoenix, getting something for his car. She nodded, came and stood next to me. To this day, I have no idea what happened or why; I stood up, took her in my arms and kissed her; she kissed me back. "Afterwards, we lay in each other's arms, and I was incredibly depressed that I had a) screwed my best friend's sister, and b) made love to the girl he was sleeping with. "Ellen straightened me right out, she was pretty emphatic. Craig didn't own her, I didn't own her. Then she added, 'Kim doesn't own me, Shirley doesn't own me, Keisha doesn't own me,' she told me. Just because I make love to someone doesn't give them more than a place in my heart; they don't own it, they just have a place there.' "At the time, feeling guilty as I was, I accepted that. Besides, I'd gotten laid for the first time in my life. I was feeling pretty big about then. Later, Craig got back, and Ellen came and sat on my lap and kissed me in a big way. I was never so surprised in my life, Craig just laughed, said it was about time I got something for doing all the chores, and sleeping so many nights on the couch. "Then, along came Thanksgiving." Dad shook his head, but didn't slow the pace of the walk. "Oh my! There's a reason why in our family Thanksgiving is the big holiday, and we do a very minimalist Christmas!" "I thought it was because Christmas was too material," I said with a smile. "That too. But that four-day weekend, Ellen brought her roommates over to the apartment for Thanksgiving dinner away from home, a dinner with all the trimmings that Craig and I fixed ourselves. And that night, they started thanking us." Dad laughed. "By the end of the weekend, it was all either Craig or I could do to get out of bed, we were that worn out. God, it felt good!" We walked for another few minutes, still at a brisk pace. "To make a long story short, over the years, the six of us have remained close. Very close. "Now, there is another generation coming of age. And evidently, cut from the same cloth as their parents," he said to me. I nodded, evidently indeed! "Craig and Shirley got married, but Shirley couldn't have kids. Ellen and I married, we could have children and did. Kim far prefers her roommates than she does Craig or I, but she's not close-minded. You know Penny is Craig's daughter?" I nodded at the question. Now I did, and why I'd never heard about a Mr. Wells. "In LA, Keisha has a daughter, a year younger than you. Brandy is her name; Brandy is your half sister. Keisha's life partner is a woman named Leslie Warren, who was married to a black man named Walter, who did as too many black men have done: left his wife and kid. Leslie's son is Lionel, who is two years older than you. "A few years after you popped into the world, Kim was pregnant with Penny, your mom with Joanna, Keisha and Leslie decided to get pregnant too. So, you have another half sister named Jade, Leslie's daughter, and Craig is Janice's father, Keisha is her mother. They are both roughly the same age as Joanna and Penny. The 'twin twins' everyone calls them. "Two years ago, Leslie met a girl on the streets; she was not quite fourteen at the time. Donna Emerson had run away from home, lived as a prostitute and drug addict for more than a year, and who one day decided that she had had enough and walked away... she actually started hitchhiking, meaning to come to Phoenix. Instead, she met Leslie. "Leslie helped Donna straighten out; got her off drugs. Donna had syphilis and Leslie got that taken care of. Donna was malnourished, she'd suffered frequent beatings and those had taken a huge toll on her. She weighed in at 75 pounds when Leslie found her. "In that respect, Donna and Jennifer will have a lot in common; Donna doesn't like men much either." I took it in stride, a stride that, if anything, had picked up. After a bit, Dad said softly, "And now for something you maybe won't like. Two some things." I glanced at him, but I was beginning to feel the strain; we'd been walking for more than a half hour. In Phoenix, all the major streets are even fractions of a mile apart. We had covered more than two miles, almost three. "First, the women choose. Never ever push past no." "I never have," I told him. "After Jenny, I can't imagine ever wanting to." "I know, and I understand. But, it's important for when you meet your ah, 'cousins' from LA. Part of the responsibility that goes with that right to choose, is that the women are responsible for birth control. In theory, you don't have to worry about it. You are a total fool if you don't worry about it, and a bigger fool if you don't contemplate what you will do if birth control fails." That was indeed something to think about; I knew in my heart of hearts I was entirely too casual about it. First Marsha, then JR and Penny, Kim, Mom... all had made it pretty clear I had nothing to worry about. Wrong! "And, the next thing is that next Friday, spring break starts." I nodded, not sure what he meant. "We've talked, the adults have. Kim had already planned on taking Penny to LA for the week; we've decided to send you and Joanna along with them as well. We're not sure about Jennifer, but probably her too. Almost certainly. You'll leave Saturday morning, early; get there a little after lunch. What happens then..." He shrugged. "That is up to you and them. Maybe nothing, maybe something. Impossible to say. But your parents have been friends for nearly twenty years; we have a vested interest in our children and their friends. "One last thing. Last week and this week, you dated." Like this was news? "There are no rules about dating outside the group. At one point, Leslie suggested we shouldn't bring anyone new into the group without prior approval from everyone else. That was, obviously, a self-limiting condition, and a few years later she saved Donna, and had the good sense to understand that dogma doesn't cut it and has given up on that particular rule. "Feel free to date outside; we've never believed in owning people, or controlling them. Maybe we aren't the typical family you thought we were; maybe we're really very different from everyone else. But we seek to make each other happy, not to cause pain or grief; that's another important rule. Maybe not everyone has as many lovers, 'intergenerational' lovers at that, as we do. But that's them and this is us. "I do know that it seems silly to me that I'm supposed to teach my children all sorts of things, but leave off something that I'm the most proud of: The fact that I can and have loved many women, made them happy, and continue to do so. I love them. Each differently, each in her own way. Leslie can be like making love to a cactus; thorns and prickly at the best of times. Kim is like the earth mother, loving being loved. Your mom more so. Shirley is extraordinarily fond of young people, girls and boys." We fetched up at the walkway in front of the house. "Now, we'll make sure everyone knows about next week; in theory Ellen was going to tell Joanna and Jennifer when they got up. Of course, of late, everyone has been sleeping in." He looked at me for a long second. "And you're okay with all of this?" I nodded. "Me and your sister?" He pressed on. "You and my sister. Me and my sister. Mom and my sister. Mom and me. Penny and Kim and my sister. Mom, Kim, Penny, JR and Jenny. JR and Uncle Craig. JR and Roger Parker; now that I had a problem with. Since fixed." On the spur of the moment I decided not to include Sue Ellen in the list. "That's cold," he told me. "That, Dad, is reality." He looked at me for a long moment. "Ellen said you'd come a long ways; that you are, in your own way, the most moral person she's ever met." He frowned. "I thought about the numbers and put that down to your mom's preconceptions. You'd think that by now I would know that her preconceptions are the basis of all that follows." "I'm trying to do what's right," I told him seriously. "Hindered by the fact I haven't met many girls I would kick out of bed. Or women. Not even my own mother." He grinned then. "Well, I never felt the least twinge of desire towards my mother; you're ahead of me there. But, Tom, I think you ducked the question by changing the subject. What about me and Joanna?" "What about Mom and me?" I shot back. "Her choice," he replied, just as fast. "And that's the answer, if what you said before wasn't self-serving hypocrisy." He jerked like I'd hit him; then stopped and looked at me. "And here, a minute ago, I was lecturing you about how the women in our family choose." He sighed. "You're right, I'm wrong. Tom..." I looked at him. "All that you say is true; God, I had more butterflies in my stomach when Joanna and I were together than all the other times in my life, combined. "She's a special young woman, beyond special," he murmured, and I nodded vigorously in agreement. "Yet, if anyone outside the family found out..." He shook his head. "Jail. Ruin for the family. Others do the 'intergenerational' with impunity; it scared the pee out of me." I stopped and thought for a second. "And it should have scared me just as much; instead, I was only too eager to cooperate. More sex!" He punched my arm. "Think like that, son of mine, and you're going to find out the definition of pussy-whipped: What happens when they beat you to a pulp." He smiled, "Changed the subject on me again! Damn, you're good boy!" I shook my head, not sure what he meant. "Suppose you and Jennifer were together?" he asked. "If it was what she wanted, but that's up to her. Pigs are a whole lot more likely to fly first, I think." We stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Mom stuck her head out of the door. "You two need to come in." I smiled, and Dad reached out his hand for mine. "Welcome to the bigs, Tom." I shook his hand and we both laughed. He'd said that once before, when I'd been laying in the hospital with a bruised elbow; victim of a come backer when I was playing Little League baseball and I'd been pitching. Up to that day, I'd had a future as a jock; after that, I lost my nerve. He'd seen everything, knew what I was thinking; distilled it into five words. We went inside and Mom nodded at Dad. "I told Tom," he said simply. "And I told Joanna and Jennifer. Jennifer said, on balance, if Tom is going, she doesn't want to stay." She looked at us. "Is this going to mess up anyone's social life? Besides Tom and his new girlfriend?" The others were silent; I thanked the good Lord God that JR didn't mention Sue Ellen, Jennifer didn't mention Elizabeth. "I've started dating Shannon Leary; she's asked me to meet her parents tonight for dinner." I announced into the silence. "Now that's serious!" JR said with a laugh. "Joanna," Dad said quietly. JR turned to look at him. "At some point in time, you're going to bring a friend home. Contemplate whether or not you want the rest of us making sarcastic comments -- or not." JR thought that one over for about a second. "I think I'll pass. Sorry, Tom." "Good choice," Mom told her. "So, Friday, after school: no plans. You will come home, pack, get a good night's sleep. That's sleep, as opposed to 'sleeping with'. You will, I assure you, need all your energy when you get to LA." JR looked at Mom as though she was going to say something. "JR," I said, and she looked at me instead. "Chill." "I don't have enough time for the people I like now," JR said, looking at Mom. "And this is going to make that better?" "No," Dad agreed, "it won't. It will make it different. How you respond is up to you. "Tom and I both love you, Joanna. Your mom does, Kim, Penny, Jennifer... who knows, maybe others." I saw JR blush; gosh Dad, that was Sue Ellen you are talking about! And if Tony finds out about JR and Sue Ellen, you're going to find me buried in the Gobi Desert someplace, that's if I'm ever seen again. Moreover, if you remind JR of Roger, she's liable to cut us both off. We talked for a while about other things, then it was time for chores; afterwards I took a shower, and lay down on the floor in the family room with a good book. JR and Jenny came in, also with books, and they laid down at right angles to me, but JR's head on my thigh and Jenny's on my stomach. It was a quiet, peaceful time and I enjoyed the book and the silent company, the warm pressure of two bodies on mine. I heard the doorbell; thought nothing of it. A lot of door-to-door salesman came by on Saturday mornings. Mom was polite, but gave them short shrift; Dad was less polite and even shorter shrifting. After a few minutes, both Mom and Dad came in the family room, a woman I'd never seen before in tow. "Jennifer, could you come here, please?" Mom asked. Jennifer looked up, and then stood. JR and I did the same. The woman was about five-ten, very blonde, with breasts that reminded me of Sue Ellen. The woman nodded at Jennifer. "I'm Eleanor Johannsen," the woman said. "From the Children's Services Division of the State of Arizona." I froze, not believing my eyes. Trouble in River City! "I'd like to talk to you for a few minutes, okay?" the woman went on, politely. "I don't have anything to talk about," Jenny said, her expression like I remembered from a week ago; defiant and afraid. "Please, Jennifer," Mom asked. "It's okay." The woman turned to my mother. "I know this is your house, but could Jennifer and I have a few minutes alone, please?" Dad spoke up, "According the law, you can request a private interview, but the subject may have a representative present if the subject so desires. You don't have to be alone with this woman, Jennifer." "Could Tom be there?" Jenny asked, and the woman looked at my Dad. Dad grinned. "I'm David Ferguson, this is my wife Ellen, my daughter Joanna and my son Tom." He gestured to each of us as he named us. The woman's eyes rested on me for a moment, and then she shrugged. Mom motioned to JR, and the three of them left. "This is just a request for information, Miss Reese," the social worker began. "My parents told me I was no longer part of their family," Jennifer said immediately. "I've stopped using the name. Jennifer, plain and simple." The woman nodded, and looked at me. "I'm here to ask Jennifer some questions; not you." "Haven't said a thing," I agreed. "Have you been staying here since you left your parents?" the woman asked Jenny, and Jenny said yes. "I checked with your school, they say you haven't missed any days." "Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson were quite clear; if I want to stay with them, they expect me to go to school, keep my grades up, and do my share of the chores. When I was with my parents, Mom and I did all the housework. Here, everyone helps with everything." "Do you have a room of your own?" she asked, and Jenny nodded. "Is there a lock on the door?" Jenny looked at her without expression. "Unlike when I lived with my parents." "And why did your parents ask you to leave?" "They didn't like my friends," Jenny replied. "Were you having sex with some of those friends?" Jenny just stared at her without responding. "Has he," the social worker waved at me, "or anyone else in this household bothered you sexually?" Jenny lifted her chin. "I don't like boys." "That wasn't an answer," the woman said, for the first time pressing for an answer. Jenny looked her right in the eye. "Every night, before Joanna and Tom go to bed their mom and dad come in and tell them they love them, give them a hug and a kiss good night. In all the years I lived with my family, no one, not even once, said they loved me. No hugs, no kisses. Here, I get hugs from Tom and his dad. Hugs and kisses from Joanna and her mom. It is not a bother and it's not sex." Jenny was very emphatic on the word 'not.' After a second, Jenny went on. "Joanna told me right after I moved in, that in this family love is as common as dirt, and treated like gold. In my house, love was rarer than gold and treated like dirt." The woman looked at me, and then back to Jenny, "Could I see your room?" Jenny's eyes went to mine, and I nodded. Up to you, Jenny. Jenny turned and went up the stairs, I following behind the other two. Jenny opened the door, and the woman just stood outside, looking in. None of us in our family were sloppy; Mom was a fanatical house cleaner. JR and I had long since been told that either we cleaned our rooms, or Mom would. And if she did, a lot of cherished possessions would vanish. We cleaned. The woman looked around, gestured at the door across the hall. "And whose room is this?" "Tom's." I pointed to my bedroom. "This was once a duplex, Mom keeps talking about cutting a door between bedrooms, but has never got around to it. My sister's room is on the other side, my parent's room just beyond it. You have to go downstairs, through the family room, the kitchen, and then up the other stairs to get there." The social worker didn't exactly glare at me, but let me know that I wasn't supposed to talk. We trooped back downstairs, and the woman led the way into the living room, where the others were. "I understand, Mr. Ferguson, that the Reese's gave you some papers?" Dad nodded, fetched them from the table. "A limited power of attorney to deal with the school, medical treatment in an emergency," he told her. She read through them, and then looked around again. "Miss Reese..." She stopped, restarted. "Jennifer is close to the age where we give due credence to her wishes. Obviously, everyone is different; some young people are more mature than others. We do try to make allowances. "Young people being kicked out of their homes isn't nearly as unusual as it should be; we try to reconcile the parties, of course, but that isn't always possible. In this case, the action was started by someone other than Jennifer's parents; I can't say whom. I've talked to her parents, they are quite adamant about not wanting her back. "When that happens, we try to find the best situation we can; relatives if possible, friends of the family or foster homes as a last resort." She looked at my dad for a long minute. "Do you expect any money to care for Jennifer?" "It's not a problem," Dad said. Mom simply shook her head. The woman turned to Jenny. "It is my job to be judgmental about the situations young people find themselves in. I am judgmental about all sorts of things, including life style choices. You would be very wise, young woman, not to make choices that limit your future. You are physically mature enough to enjoy sex, but just because you can do something does not imply that you should." She gestured at Mom and Dad. "I hope this will be satisfactory; if it should turn out otherwise..." She handed Jenny a card. "You can call me, any time of the day or night. "I am not an ogre, no matter what you or anyone else might think." She looked at me when she said that, and I decided, why not? I stared at her imposing breasts. Nice! "Many girls in your situation, Jennifer, do not have happy endings. You have here, I believe, a chance at a happy ending. Do listen to what Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson tell you, and if it doesn't work out..." She nodded at the card. "There are far worse ogres in the world than me." She turned to my parents. "Thank you for your time and patience; many people get hostile and upset when I show up on their doorstep." Dad gestured for her to wait. "I'm a engineer," he told her. "But I'm not unfamiliar with the law; we have a family lawyer. I talked to him about this. I realize that Jennifer's parents can revoke the papers even faster than they granted them; they can contest custody. Please note that I do not think Jennifer would be better off with them. Still, if that was her choice, we'd acquiesce. If it was not, then we would contest her return to them. No matter how expensive or hopeless." The social worker shrugged. "That would be an option open to you. I would, were that to happen, reevaluate the situation in the light of any new developments and would render my opinion to the court as to what I believe would be in the young woman's best interest." Then she was gone. For several minutes we stood looking at each other, then Mom sighed. "That went better than I imagined it would." "I wonder if she is a closet Republican?" Dad said with a laugh. "Thank you," Jenny said quietly, after everyone had quieted down. "Thank you all for being so wonderful, so kind. For letting me stay here." Mom walked over to her, hugged her. Then we all stood around Jenny, hugging her. "And now, I'm the ogre," Mom said. "Jennifer and I are going to make lunch." We laughed, and I went back to my book, JR joining me. She hugged me, and I hugged her; that led to smooching, which led to touching. We were still at it a half hour later when we were called for lunch. After lunch, JR and I snuggled down for a nap; Mom and Jenny vanished, Dad went off to a golf game he had scheduled with some friends of his from work. JR and I hugged and kissed for a while, and then she fell asleep; then so did I. Mom woke me up later, "Phone, Tom." I nodded, got up and went and picked up. "Tom," Tony said exuberantly on the other end, "Thanks for taking Sue Ellen home last night!" I gulped, decided that Sue Ellen was unlikely to tell him; I sure wasn't. "No problem. We stayed and watched a movie. She has a really cool home theater." "You watched the movie?" he laughed sarcastically. "Not what I heard!" "Ahhhh..." I gargled. Tony had talked to Sue Ellen! But Sue Ellen hadn't seen what Shannon and I had done, because she and JR were elsewhere. "What happened to Roger?" I hoped changing the subject would work. "Along about dawn this morning, we let him off near Chinle." I blinked. "Actually, it was a few miles further east of there. There's a road along the south rim of the Canyon; about ten miles or so east of Chinle is a place called 'Apache's Leap' where a bunch of the Apaches jumped off a butte to avoid capture by soldiers. There's a little turnout and a historical marker. We left him there." "Cool." "It was," Tony agreed. "Very cool; of course, ol' Roger dodger was bare, so it was really, really cool." "Bare?" "Yeah, we shaved him, head to toe. Made a few nicks; he wouldn't hold still. We figured he wouldn't want to bleed on his clothes." I laughed, and Tony said, "What are you doing tonight?" "Going over to Shannon's for dinner. Then we were going to hang out together." "Well, Sue Ellen said you'd be welcome to come over to her place, we were going to watch another movie," he yucked it up when he said that, and I knew we'd not be watching a movie. "Shannon said her parents were going out, so maybe not," I told him. "Well, you'd be welcome. What are you doing tomorrow?" "Nothing planned." I told him. "Well, maybe we'll come up with something, I really owe you for looking after Sue Ellen." I winced. "Sure, Tony." "Gotta run," he said. "Sue Ellen's parents are leaving now. Gotta catch up on my quality time." He hung up and I shook my head. Wow! With luck, he'll never know! I started getting ready to go over to Shannon's; Mom suggested I stop at the store on the way over and get some flowers as a hospitality gift. I thought that was cool, so I did. A little before six, I presented myself at the door. My first thought when the door opened was that it was Shannon's older sister; it took a second look to realize that the woman was older than she looked. She smiled at me, "You must be Tom. I'm Mary Leary, Shannon's mother." She held out her hand, and I shook it, kind of in a daze. Mary Leary was even more redheaded and freckled than her daughters. She was wearing jeans and a blouse, with the blouse tails tied across her stomach; a very flat stomach covered with golden hairs that vanished beneath her low cut jeans. I lifted my eyes to meet hers, realized I was still holding her hand. I let go and blushed. Her eyes held mine; gray, lively eyes. She stepped forward, and I took a step backwards, not having a clue, still mesmerized by her eyes. "Shannon wanted to call you up," Mary Leary said quietly, the door now closed behind her. "And ask you not to come." I blinked in surprise. "My husband decided that seventeen years of marriage had been nice, but sufficient; he moved out this morning." "Oh," I said, feeling stupid. Why had I assumed it had something to do with me? "Shannon hasn't taken it well; Elizabeth is Elizabeth. Who knows what she feels?" Mary's voice sounded down and depressed, quite at odds with her sparkly eyes. Our eyes met, she stared at me for a second. There was no change that I could see but she abruptly said, "So, ve vill hef dinner! Ve vill hef fun, ja wohl!" She said it with a laugh. "If you're sure," I said, and she nodded, then led the way back inside. I watched Mary walk, shaking my head in amazement. Wow! Wow and double wow! She was really pretty! Shannon was in the living room, standing looking out a window over a neighbor's yard. When she turned, I could see she'd been crying; I mentally cursed my hormones that had led me to say yes to dinner, when I should have politely excused myself. "I brought some flowers for the table, Shannon," I said quietly, handing them to her. Shannon took them, looked at them for a long few seconds. "They're pretty." "Shannon, if this isn't a good time..." I said, feeling helpless. "A good time?" she sniffed. "I don't know if there ever will be a good time." She looked at me. "A better time? Don't know about that either. Mom's right; why should I have my life ruined because of that son of a bitch!" A redheaded blaze of anger; I tried to smile but it was daunting to face. I saw Elizabeth standing across the room, silent. I remembered from last night, her and Jenny chatting away, having a good time. People, I thought, are so stupid! If I had three women in my family like these, you'd have to pry me away with tanks and infantry. What would you say, Elizabeth, if you found out that last night I'd pretended to be Jenny, seducing you? Making love to you? That a minute ago, I was lusting after your mom? That I came over here because Shannon said your parents were going out tonight, and that we'd be alone? I felt a hand on my shoulder. "We are going to have a good time," that was Mary. "We will, because if we let this spoil our lives, then he'll have had the last laugh. I think he's laughed enough at our expense." It was a strange meal; Mary talked, mostly. Shannon made a few attempts at conversation; Elizabeth sat mute, talking only as necessary. Yet, for all of that, her eyes were frequently on me, and I was sure that a lot of the time she was deep in thought. Maybe, I thought, she's reconsidering what she'd told Jenny last night about 'not being like that.' That or she's thinking about me... I hoped that wasn't the case because life was already too complicated. Elizabeth's hair was lighter red, almost a blonde of sorts, I thought. Cute. I mentally laughed at myself. Events had, in the space of a week, completely ruined me! I looked at a girl and the first thing that came to mind was whether or not she'd be fun in bed. I saw that Mary was looking at me as well, and I tried hard not to blush. And it wasn't just girls! I'd watched the social worker this morning; I'd had thoughts about her, too. Mom. Kim. Now Mary Leary. Finally dinner was over, and Shannon stood up. "I have a splitting headache; I'm really sorry, Tom, I really am." Mary stood up, and waved at Elizabeth. "Let's give these two a moment alone." They carried dishes out, towards the kitchen. Shannon came up, laid her head down on my chest; not what I'd expected. "This has been pretty rotten for you," she told me. "I don't think how I feel is very important just now," I told her. She looked up at me, a faint smile on her face. "You say the nicest things; I wish things had gone like I wanted." "Things happen, Shannon. We have tomorrow, and a lot more tomorrows beyond that." I grinned, knew it was going to hurt. "Like, this morning I was told that we're going to LA over spring break. Won't be able to go out Friday, even." She looked at me, sighed. "I'll make this up to you! I promise!" She kissed me then, hard and passionate; her hand spent a second on the front of my slacks. I kissed her back, but it was only a second. "I really, really am sorry about how cruddy I feel." "I understand. Get some sleep, if you can." Shannon nodded, turned and walked out of the room. A minute later Mary and Elizabeth came back. I picked up some of the dishes and trailed along behind them as they made another trip into the kitchen. "You don't have to do that." Elizabeth told me. I smiled at her, glad that for the first time tonight she'd spoken directly to me, even if the topic was mundane. "It's no trouble. Some day you can come to my house and do the same. Jenny said to say hello." Elizabeth nodded at that. "Tell her hi from me, too." She turned to Mary. "I'll clean this up, ok? You don't have to." Mary nodded, her eyes, I thought, wide in startled surprise. She watched as Elizabeth turned and left as well. "I'm sorry too how this turned out, Tom." Mary sighed, shaking her head. "I wanted to be able to put it behind us." Her laugh turned bitter. "I guess the same day was hoping for a little much." "It was a nice dinner, Mrs. Leary." "Mary, call me Mary. Not going to be Mrs. Leary for very much longer. Back to plain Mary McDowell." I glanced at her again; nothing plain there! Just plain beautiful! She moved to stand in front of me. "You keep looking at me." Her voice was soft. "Sorry," I said, fighting not to blush. "Trust me, it's a good thing! You have no idea how much it does for me to see a nice young man looking at me like that, not more than twelve hours after my husband left saying I wasn't much of a woman. Too short, too skinny, no tits; no good in bed." I gave a low laugh. "Mary, you can lead an ass to water; you can make it drink. But it's still an ass." She giggled, more like a young girl. Her eyes met mine, searching. "It's said that boys your age have one thing, and only one thing on their minds." "Not completely true," I told her, "but not far off." "I read in a book," she said, stepping closer, "that a stiff cock has no conscience." "I don't know about cocks," I told her, drowning in those gray eyes, "but I have a conscience. I don't go where I'm not wanted." "And if you are wanted?" her voice was soft. Her hand touched mine. "What then?" "If two people want the same thing," I told her, taking her hand lightly in mine, "then I don't see a problem with it. Nor does my conscience." She wrapped her fingers around mine. "In that case, I don't suppose you know a place, a discrete place, where a middle-aged woman, soon to be divorced, can get it on with a sixteen year old young man?" I contemplated that; I could if I wanted to, take her home. Later, there would be some comment, but not much. But it would be impossible to obscure the fact that no one was going to mind; which would lead to all sorts of questions. That's when I thought about Tony and Sue Ellen. "I know a place," I said with confidence. "You would have to trust me." "I want to make love to you," she said pointedly. "I don't think I could do that with someone I didn't trust. Probably why my husband Bill has been lonely of late." She squeezed my hand. "You go make your call, I'll tell Elizabeth I'm going out." I mentally raised an eyebrow, and she grinned. "You'll learn about Elizabeth soon enough. Give that girl a piece of broken pottery, and she can reconstruct ancient Egypt... or what's on her mom's mind on how to spend the evening. Shannon will guess, but won't be sure. It's not like she didn't want the same thing." In some ways, a lot like my family! Mary grinned, picked a cell phone off a table. "Here." I called Tony at Sue Ellen's. "Hey, Tony!" I said, knowing that I was probably taking him away from something he'd rather be doing. "Last week, you said you owed me, then again this afternoon." "I do, once for Marsha, once for last night for Sue Ellen." "I'd like to collect all of my past markers." I paused, and then said it. "I'd like to stop by for a while with a friend." "Tom! Of course! You know you're welcome! Shannon too!" "Her mom." There was a considerable pause on the other end. "Oh." Another pause. "That's different." "That's different, as in that's odd, but ok... or that's too different, forget it?" I asked, not sure what he was going to say. "Oh, odd. You're an odd person, Tom, no doubt about it. Marsha. Shannon, Shannon's mom." "Promise me you and Sue Ellen will never tell anyone." "Tom!" he sounded pissed. "Never! Did I ask you not to tell anyone about what we did to Roger?" "No, but I didn't do this in the Commons at school, either." "Oh. Yeah. Doubt if anyone saw anything, though." "Probably not," I agreed. "Ten minutes?" "Sure, we'll leave the light on for you, Tom." I stuck my tongue out at the phone, but of course, Tony was oblivious. "It's okay?" Mary said, when she came out. "Yes. A friend of mine and his girl friend. They are going together." "Discrete?" "Oh yeah! Extraordinarily good at keeping secrets!" Mary waved at my car. "You'll drive?" I nodded. I drove as competently as I could to Sue Ellen's, fighting the urge to go faster. I parked in front, and walked Mary up to the door, knocked. Tony appeared, Sue Ellen right behind him. "Evening, Tom," he said, a quick glance at Mary. "Sue Ellen and I are watching The Matrix." I wanted to laugh; both Tony and Sue Ellen were wearing robes. We went in, and Tony and Sue Ellen crawled into a sleeping bag across the room, while the movie played. I led the way to the family room; Mary stopped and looked around; spotted the fur rug. "Is that what I think it is?" "Yes." She looked at me, for a long minute, I wasn't at all sure what she was thinking. Mary reached out, pulled me to her and we kissed for several minutes, a really hot kiss. I put all the skill I'd learned this week into it. When we broke for a moment, Mary's eyes went to the rug. "I'm not the first, am I?" "No," I said, then added, "But not Shannon." She looked at me, and then sighed. "That's the truth, isn't it?" I nodded. She leaned close, put her head on my chest, reminding me of Jenny and Shannon. After a minute, she lifted her head, looking at me directly; there were tears in her eyes. More and more like Jenny. "I lied to you," she said in a small voice. "Anything important?" "When I opened the door and saw you looking at me..." She leaned close, kissed me hard again for another few seconds. "I was there in lieu of Shannon, to tell you that we weren't receiving company. Bill has been a bastard for some time; today he showed me I had no idea what a bastard is. "But there you were at the door, I could see you looking at me. God, how I wanted you! A handsome boy, obviously mesmerized and physically attracted to me! I'd show my bastard husband who was desirable! I didn't care about you, about Shannon... just showing the son of a bitch up! You kept looking at me and before I knew it, all I felt was the itch between my legs." I touched her cheek. "And you think I don't have that same itch?" "No. It's been a long time since anyone looked at me like that, I knew you what you were thinking. I decided I felt the same. I was going to show Bill that I wasn't the dog he told me I was." "You are not a dog; you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." "Oh?" "Woman," I said evenly. "I also like girls. You're not the only person in the world suffering lust. I wasn't at your front door because I expected to tell Shannon good night and shake hands with her when I left." "I wanted you; I didn't care if you were my daughter's new boyfriend; I didn't care at all." "And I didn't care that you're Shannon's mom. I wanted to make love to her; and when I saw you, I wanted to make love to you as well." I paused, "Not in place of, too." She giggled, "Ah, to be a sixteen year old! Bill was never like that." "I am not like your husband, never ever." "You want me." "Sure," I told her. "And in that, I suppose I'm the same. Not much else is the same though." "He's fucked me good," she said, her voice bitter. "Do you know how old I am?" I looked and shook my head. Sometimes she seemed older, other times younger. "I am the mother of a daughter who is sixteen years and four months old. Carried her full term, I did. I got pregnant with Shannon two days after my thirteenth birthday. I'm thirty." I shrugged. "My mother got pregnant when she was thirteen too," I told her. Mary's eyes grew wide. "She had an abortion, paid for by her brother and some of his friends; none of whom were the father. Mom didn't have a clue about sex then. Didn't know how she got pregnant. Then she had the abortion, and only later realized she'd killed her baby. My grandparents learned about it, and nearly threw her out. They did cut her out of their will; my Uncle put her back in." Mary asked softly, "And what happened to your mom after her abortion?" I shrugged; I didn't really know why that was important. "Mom finished high school, graduated, went to college, met Dad, fell in love, got married. Had me, even before she graduated." "I carried Shannon; they kicked me out of high school. Bill's parents and mine forced us to marry. I raised Shannon; they paid for Bill's college. Tom, I'm a high school drop out, who's never worked a day in her life. "He told me he'd cleaned out the bank account, that I'd never get another penny from him; not for me, not for his daughters. 'Ungrateful bitches' he called them. He told me that I could have the house, but of course there were the mortgage payments to make. I could keep my car... and the payments." She broke down, crying. I reached out, put my arms around her, thinking Jenny thoughts. I could do this, I thought. I can. For a long time Mary cried and cried. "Now I'm feeling sorry for myself," she said, more bitter than ever. "Shannon... Shannon has music lessons, she's an accomplished violinist; going to All-state this year. Was going to go to Juillard year after next. Gone, no money! "Elizabeth is a genius; she wanted so much to go to Cal Tech and study the secrets of the universe! Gone, no money! In ten minutes, that man ripped our hearts out, left us bleeding. Then turned and walked away." She looked at me. "And my response? The proud mother of two? Seduce a sixteen year old. My daughter's new boyfriend." I laughed hard, and she looked at me as if I was crazy. "Silly me, I thought I was doing my best to seduce you," I told her. She smiled at me, and then hugged me. "I told the girls what we are facing; they are distraught. I went to the ATM, checked the bank balance; I don't know if Bill just screwed up the numbers, which he's good at, or left me a little something. There was an even hundred dollars left in the account. I spent some on dinner, took the rest in cash. I have 78 dollars and 11 cents between the life we once had, and me and my daughter's new lives on the streets. I figure, maybe a week." She stared at me. "God, I still want you." "And I want you," I told her evenly. Mary reached out, put her hand on the front of my slacks. "You do." "Mary," I said evenly. She looked at me. "Do you love Shannon? Elizabeth?" She nodded. "I won't ask who which of your daughters you love the most; what's important is that you love them." I could see the confusion in her eyes. "I want to make love to you," I told her simply, "I want to make love to you more than I've ever wanted any woman in my life. "But... I still want Shannon." I smiled lightly, nodded at the fur rug. "Last week, Tony's cousin. A quick, one night stand. If she were here, I'd want to make love to her again. There are others, others I care about. I love each of you, in my own way, in your own ways." I reached out and started unbuttoning her blouse. The knot in the tail was a bit of a challenge, but I managed it, peeled the garment back; I was right, no bra. Very small breasts, not much bigger than JR's; perfectly huge nipples, covering ninety-five percent of her breasts. I reached inside her blouse, using both of my hands to caress her breasts. Mary took a shivering breath. "For the life of me, I can't figure out which of us is using the other." I shook my head. "I want to make love to you; you want me to. I don't want to make you pregnant; I hope that's your desire too." She looked at me, eyes glittering. "Shannon was an easy baby, popped right out, even though the doctor expected trouble. Piece of cake, she told me when I got pregnant with Elizabeth. I nearly died; Elizabeth took everything of mine with her. A seventeen year old with a hysterectomy." I smiled, then, suddenly sure where before I'd had doubts. "Mary, you talk too much." I kissed her, full mouth, my tongue going after hers; then my hands were working her jeans. Mary started on my clothes; in a second we were both on the fur rug, kissing and caressing each other with abandon. When I started kissing down her torso, Mary froze in astonishment. I continued, and she grew tenser the closer to the apex of her legs I got. I kissed and licked her inner thighs like I'd done for Jenny the night before. Mary was rigid; unbelieving, I thought. I continued as if it was something I did every day. I laughed at myself. True, but only for the last week! Mary's first orgasm I almost mistook for a simple moan; but unlike any other woman I'd made love to in the last week, her whole skin tone and body language changed in an instant, and I knew it for what it was. I kept licking her, unable to locate her clit, settling instead for putting my tongue deep, deep inside her. I continued licking and sucking; her next orgasm was more pronounced. She's been suppressing her emotions, I thought, all of this time. No one, I thought, has ever done this for her. I did it again, this time using a finger inside her as well. Her fourth orgasm was a wild wind, sweeping both of us up; I enjoyed it, I thought, every bit as much as Mary. Then I was hungry for her, to feel myself inside her. I moved like I'd never moved with Marsha, JR, Penny... not anyone, wanting to bury my erection deep inside her. Instead, Mary held her legs closed, looking at me. "Oh God! For a second there, I was imagining it was your gay sister kissing me!" I mentally sighed, time enough later, I thought, for reeducation. "A good or bad thought?" I murmured, unable to resist the impulse to talk instead of act. "Severely radical! God, that was good!" "What matters," I said softly, "is the person making love to you, loves you. Nothing else." "Do you love me?" She asked, her hand wrapping around my erection, "Or is this speaking for you?" "If you want," I told her. "I can do what I was just doing all night." "And this," she repeated, squeezing me. I nearly shot my wad. "Can take care of itself," I told her. "I can pretend I'm my sister, making love to you. Whatever you want." "What about what you want?" "I want to make you come," I told her. "Just about any way I can figure out how to do it." Mary giggled, "Are all sixteen year olds like this?" "Never checked the guys. The girls; some of them." She giggled again, "But your sister might like it?" "My sister would like it; her friends would like it. One of her friends has a serious crush on Elizabeth." I felt Mary reach between us, guiding me into her. "Right now, this is what I want," Mary said, as I slid deep inside her. "Later, I don't know. God, you have a talented tongue!" We started moving together; I don't know about Mary, but it was really good, really, really good for me. She wrapped her legs around my butt, pulling me even harder into her. I kissed her hard, my fingers stroking her small breasts; I used my thumbs to chafe her relatively large nipples. They didn't get hard like I'd grown used to, but the silky texture was pleasant and Mary was enjoying the attention. In fact, she came a moment later, grunting and writhing under me, as though being tortured; beautiful torture. She kissed me so hard my ears were ringing from lack of oxygen, and I kissed back for all I was worth. I was close, very close, and I continued stroking into her, no longer very conscious of anything other than Mary and our time together. I came, and I pressed deep inside of her, trying to prolong the moment. It took a few minutes for me to catch my breath. I was aware of Mary under me, her breathing every bit as ragged as mine. "Tom..." her voice was soft. She reached up and stroked my face. "God, Tom," her breath caught. "Your tongue was good, this..." She bumped my belly with hers. "God, I never knew. I never knew." Mary kissed me again, brief but passionate. "Bill was the only man I was ever with until today. He'd never been with another girl either; the first couple of times it ranged from painful to awful. Bill got off though." Her voice turned bitter. "I didn't have my first orgasm until after I was pregnant; and it was an accident. Bill found that if he stayed in me, he could get off again. That's all I ever was to him. "All these years, wasted." I saw something that might have been a tear, form in the corner of her eye. "Mary, this is now, not then. Not a history lesson," I told her gently. "I love you, you know." "You're a sixteen year old in lust," she told me, shaking her head. "I'm old enough to be your mother." I laughed and shook my head emphatically. "Mary, what I feel about you has nothing to do with how old I am or how old you are. Yes, there is some of this in it." I pushed into her deeply again, and she sighed with pleasure. I did it again. "You like it, don't you?" "I've never liked sex as much as a minute ago. Or ten minutes ago, or however long it's been since we laid down here," she told me. "And I like it. But Mary, I don't do this with anyone, not hardly. Yes, you're pretty, but inside..." I reached out and stroked her face. "Now I think I understand something my mom was trying to teach me not so long ago. About love and being loved, about recognizing something in people that goes beyond physical love. "You have something deep inside of you that I hunger for," I told her. "You have more of it than anyone I've ever met. I don't know if it's possible to meet someone with more. I want you," my voice broke. "I want you to be part of my life." She looked at me, unblinking. "What do you mean?" "I want to do this with you again." I stroked into her again, then again. "I want to wake up some mornings and look at your face asleep next to me in bed, then do this." More strokes, she moaned, started lifting to meet me. "Some mornings?" She asked softly. I nodded. She stared at me, piercing me with her green eyes. "I'm not the only one." "You're the only one I feel this strongly about. But there are others I feel strongly about." She smiled slightly. "So if there were others I felt strongly about... I could spend some mornings with them?" "Yes," I said it as simply as I could. I could see the doubt in her eyes. "I could get up and go in there and do this with your friend in the other room, and you'd not go crazy jealous?" "I wouldn't, no. Sue Ellen... I don't speak for other people, just for myself. I have reason to suspect, suspect, mind you that it wouldn't be the first time Tony strayed off the beaten path, even though they've been going together for more than four years, almost five." "And if it was your sister I was with?" I smiled, shook my head. "Particularly not my sister." For a moment Mary was silent, then you met my eyes. "I was going to ask why in particular not her, but now I think I know." "I don't talk about friends, even with other friends." I told her evenly. "I don't think I could handle being your, or anyone else's concubine. A Thursday." "A Thursday?" I asked, confused. "The woman you sleep with on Thursdays, as opposed to the ones the rest of the week." I reached between us, just above her heart. "Right now my heart is here, beating with yours. I don't know how or why it is I feel what I'm feeling right this second, but I want to feel your heart again. Today, tomorrow... any day for the rest of my life." She snorted. "I don't think we can get married." "Not now," I agreed. "And maybe in six weeks or six months or six years I won't feel like this. I can't imagine not feeling like I do now, but then a week ago, I couldn't imagine what this would be like either. But it's how I feel now." "And if I got up from here, and went to your friend, and say, Shannon came in and wanted to make love to you?" "It would happen. I care about Shannon, not as much as I care about you, not as much as I care about some others. But, yes." "Elizabeth?" she pressed. I shook my head. "I don't think Elizabeth wants that. I don't think I could feel like this with someone who wasn't sure about wanting to be with me." I started moving in her again, deliberate and strongly; she started to move with me. Then with deliberateness, I rolled over, somehow managing to stay deep inside Mary, until she was on top. I lifted her so that she was sitting up on my midsection, then I started chaffing her breasts again, those lovely huge nipples on such a small base. She started rocking back and forth, her movements growing stronger, more confident. I reached down and used my thumb, trying once again to find her clit. I wasn't sure where it was, but there was no doubt in my mind that I was doing something right. She came again, much quicker than before, a smile wreathed Mary's face. She redoubled her efforts and I was surprised when a few minutes later I shot off again, followed seconds later by Mary. When she sank down against me, she leaned close, lightly blew in my ear. "In all the years I was with my husband, he never went down on me, not once. Never, ever was I on top." "Change is good," I quipped. I saw the sudden hurt in her eyes, understood what I'd done wrong. I lifted up, kissed her lightly. "Can be good." Mary hugged me very tightly. "God, my brain tells me this is all teen-aged hormones; my hormones just don't care, they want to go again and again." "And your heart?" I asked. She shook her head. "I can't imagine making love to someone who wants both me and my daughter. Other women. It seems licentious, evil." "Making love like this isn't evil," I said. "Its a lot of things, including lusty and licentious, but not evil." There was a soft knock on the door to the room, a knock I knew. "Tom," Tony murmured from the other side, "it's after twelve." "Curfew?" Mary whispered and I shook my head. "Sue Ellen's parents come home around one or so, most nights. Tony doesn't want to ruin a good thing." Mary sat up, looked at the door. "No, we wouldn't want to ruin a good thing. God, was it ever a good thing!" Her voice was bright with mirth, like it had been earlier; her eyes sparkling and alive. I wanted to pull her down and make love to her for the rest of the night. It must have shown in my eyes, because Mary giggled like a teenager. "Hold that thought! Right now, I need to get home, try to explain this to my daughters." She reached over and grabbed some of her clothes, then stood. I stood too, reaching out and pulling her too me. I stroked her body, as much of it as I could reach, kissing her hard. She moaned, and then looked down at my latest erection. "God, Bill had trouble keeping it up once!" she said, and then she reached out and touched my cheek. "Tom..." I smiled and nodded. "Whatever you want." Mary laughed, "You don't know what I want." "Doesn't matter," I said, smugly. "My hormones are beating down my brains, at least for now. I want to do this again. I don't care about anything else, right this second, but extracting a promise from you that you will call, that you will come over... and we will do this again." "That is the easiest promise in the world to make; and will be the easiest in the world to keep," I told her. "Tomorrow?" She shivered. "Oh God! I guess! Yes! In the afternoon. God, I don't know how to look Shannon in the eye." "You love Shannon, don't you?" I asked softly, and Mary nodded. "And you love Elizabeth. Do you have trouble looking Shannon in the eye because you love her sister too?" "It's not the same kind of love." Mary was shaking her head. "That's what people say; they also say love and hate are close to being the same thing. I dunno, seems to me as different as love and hate are, maybe people are flat out wrong about both." "People used to think the earth was flat and at the center of the universe," Mary said, grimacing. "God! I have so much to think about!" I gave a heartfelt thanks to Sue Ellen and Tony, before I walked Mary out to the car. The night was clear, a little on the cool side; I wondered for a second how Roger Parker had fared. I smiled a little, hoping it was either very chilly or very hot where he was right then. We drove the short distance to Mary's, I got out and held the door open for her, walked her to the door. Shannon opened the front door as we got close, looking at us. "You did it, didn't you? Slept with my mom?" Her voice was disbelieving. I touched Mary's shoulder, turned her slightly around to face me. I leaned close, kissed her gently on the lips. "Good night, Mary. I think I should talk to Shannon for a few minutes." Mary's eyes met mine, yep, that's what I'm thinking, Mary. Mary sighed, turned to her daughter. "You can think what you want, Shannon. I wasn't out to take your boyfriend away. Bill said those horrible things to me, I, I, I wanted to prove that they weren't true." She looked at me, "And I found something else, something wonderful." "Shannon, please come here," I asked softly. She looked at me, at her mother, then stepped out outside. I put my arm around Mary's waist, then around Shannon's. "Mary told me that she wasn't sure if my wanting to be with both of you was my hormones talking or something else. She's right about one thing, I'm not sure if it's my heart or brains talking; I have trouble thinking this is smart, just like anyone would. But I do know my heart. "I care about you, just like I care about others. And there are others and there always will be others I care for. I never expect to become the only person in anyone's life; it makes me uncomfortable thinking about it. We are our own persons; we can share part of ourselves with others, but I don't think we should subsume who we are in someone else, no matter how strongly we feel about them. "Maybe this is all just sixteen year old bull shit, aimed at doing what ever it is I have to, to get into as many girl's panties as I can. I tell you it's not, but then those are just words. You, Shannon, you have to decide. Just as Mary decided, as others have decided. Others who know about each other, others who don't know about each other. "At school, they tell us that being judgmental is wrong; but that's flat wrong. We have to make decisions about our lives, and we have to use our judgment to make those choices. Heart, brains, lust... no matter what is providing the input, we have to decide. "This morning, a social worker came to the house to talk to Jennifer. That's what she told us: it's her job to be judgmental about kids and how they are forced to or choose to live. She told Jennifer she was free to stay with us, that choosing the streets was a really, really bad choice. So Jenny lives with us." "Another of your conquests?" Shannon said, a trace of bitterness. "Even if that's not what you told me yesterday?" I shook my head. "You know the rumors at school, Shannon; you told me about my sister yourself. Jennifer was kicked out of her family because she's gay; and she's gay because her brother has been molesting her since she was five or six. Most women would consider it traumatic in the extreme to be raped once; Jenny was raped several times a day for years." There was abject silence, both Mary and Shannon staring at me. "Jenny doesn't have much use for my gender. Somehow, she's decided I don't count as a boy; I hug her and maybe a little kiss on the forehead, that's it. My dad gives her hugs before bed. Until this week, no one ever told her they loved her, no one ever hugged her, or kissed her good night; none of that. "I count Jenny as a very special, very particular friend. I don't care about whether or not I ever make love to her; I am happy, pure and simply happy, to see a smile on her face, each and every day. Where she finds happiness, who she finds it with... I have no more say in it than anyone. Sure, if she took up with someone like Roger Parker, I'd tell her it wasn't a good idea. That would be my advice, my judgment, as her friend. But when she chooses, I'll support her judgment, even if I didn't think she made the right choice. I could be wrong. I could easily be wrong about a lot of things. "Here and now, Shannon, I'm telling you I care about you. I want to be your friend, and yes, I want to be your lover. But it's your choice." "And if I told you that I picked you because I wanted someone, anyone, to sleep with because I'm so horny, I'm nearly going out of my mind?" Shannon asked back, her voice muted with pain. I grinned. "There are a lot of other boys at school, who would gladly trade places with me. Just tell them, they'd line up for the chance. But I asked you out yesterday night, and tonight you asked me over. We made our choices, you and I. "My family has a history of rescuing kittens and stray waifs. Mary was hurt by your father, just as you and Elizabeth were. But my feelings about you, about Mary, aren't based on pity or sympathy; I'd do what I did tonight over again, in a second whether or not everything was like it was this time last week." I hugged Mary, and then kissed her lightly again. She smiled at me, leaned close and kissed her daughter on the forehead. "I never meant to hurt you, Shannon, I promise." I felt the rigidity and tension flow out of Shannon, like the air going out of a tire. "I know," Shannon said softly, "I know." She turned to me. "I saw you, a stranger I know only slightly, stand up for me against Roger when he was bothering me the other day." I could see that was news to Mary, but Shannon went on. "He came after you wanting a fight, but you brushed him aside; unimportant, irrelevant, not worth fighting with." Her eyes met mine. "If we'd have been alone right then, you'd have had a tough time fighting me off." I shook my head. "Wouldn't have wanted to, even a little." "Then Friday, Roger came back, this time with friends. And you stood up to them. For Jennifer, for me, for the others. Then your friend showed up, and explained to Roger that he was a deader; then they took him away. All of those guys. They didn't even look at us. I hope they beat the shit out of him, and dumped him in the garbage dump!" I laughed. "No, they didn't hurt him. Shaved him bald... all over bald. Dropped him near Canyon De Chelly early this morning. Didn't think he needed clothes, all alone out there in the middle of the desert." Shannon blinked in astonishment; Mary chuckled too. "Never liked that boy," Mary said. "What's to like?" I said, before turning to Shannon. "You were saying?" "Last night, at Sue Ellen's, I couldn't believe what happened. Your sister and Sue Ellen going off. Elizabeth and Jennifer. I didn't know what I wanted. So I decided to wait; by the time we said good night, I decided I'd had enough waiting. It was going to be tonight. "Then Dad said those terrible things about mom; walked out. Oh my God!" Shannon was crying, and I hugged her a little tighter. "We don't have a dime, Tom! Not a dime! What are we going to do?" "Something will come up, I'm sure," I said neutrally. At sixteen, I might not be the oldest, most experienced kid on the block, but I was pretty sure how much financial help would be permitted to me: zilch. Why promise something you can't deliver? "I felt awful, I just couldn't face you; I didn't want you to come, to see me like this. Mom said she'd tell you we were having family problems, that you could come back another time. Then you came in, and I could see the way you were looking at each other. I couldn't believe it! I felt sick, didn't want to be with anyone right then. "And you left with Mom and I started kicking myself, over and over. I wanted it to be me you were with; I kept telling myself, you and she were just going to talk, like Elizabeth and Jennifer did last night. Just talk, that's all. And when I saw you just now..." She shook her head in misery. "I knew. I could tell you'd done it." "I still like to be friends," I told her. "Friend or lover; that's up to you. Both." I hugged her a little more tightly; leaned close kissed her gently on the lips. "Boyfriends aren't sweaters," Shannon said, "you don't share them." "You share friends with others," I told her. "You have a sister, you don't mind that your mom loves her too. I know some good families; the parents love their kids. The kids love both their parents and each other. Yeah, some families aren't like that; they are the sad ones, the ones that don't work. I want my life and my family to be one of those that work, Shannon." Shannon was silent for a moment, then Mary hugged me a tighter. "Good night, Tom. Shannon. I love you Shannon, I do." She let me go, went through the door into the house. I kept my arm around Shannon, who stood looking at me, trying, I thought, to make up her mind. "If I came on to you right now," she murmured, "you'd want to fuck, wouldn't you?" "If you wanted, I'd want to make love to you, yes. Fuck is, to me, a lot like the word 'love,' overused, and used in places where you don't really know what someone means. I don't like 'fuck' very much as a word; I don't think loving and fucking are the same. One implies, to me, care and concern, something more than just sex. Fucking implies sex without any concern or love. Just sex. Not what I want." "How about commitment? Does making love to a girl imply a commitment, in your little world of screwing everyone you want to?" "Commitment, Shannon is a series of promises people make to each other. Mostly not explicit, but implicit. Not even spoken." I met her eyes. "Honestly, I haven't thought about commitment in big terms. Right now, my idea of commitment is being kind, loving, and considerate. All sorts of things. Long term promises about life?" I shrugged. "I'm sixteen, I don't even know what I want to major in, in college. I had enough trouble deciding on college prep in high school. Making a promise about how I'm going to live my life five, ten, twenty, fifty years from now? I'm not ready." "You could use that as a cop out, forever. Some people are never ready." "Are you ready?" I asked. "Really? You want the traditional boyfriend, going steady commitment, don't you?" "Yeah," Shannon said. I shook my head. "I can't. It's like a miniature marriage, a practice run at the real thing, with none of the real commitments." "That's certainly convenient for a horny boy who wants to have his cake and eat it too," Shannon said, her voice bitter. I sighed, I've lost her, I've lost her. The words ran over and over again in my head. "I'm horny. I'm a boy, you're a girl. I'm promising to care a great deal for you; maybe you think it's just wham, bamm fuck till the sun comes up, then go back and do it again; that's not how it is with me." I felt a little angry. "Go ahead, find a steady boyfriend, if that's what you want. Roger comes to mind, there's a lot more like him out there. And he'll stay faithful, maybe, until one or the other of you decides it's time to break up. Then you go your separate ways, and it's as though it never was. "Not with me. You mean something to me. Something more than that. I don't ever want to go my separate way from you, not if it means never seeing you again. Yeah, I feel the same way about everyone I sleep with." I waved at the house. "What happens to families, Shannon? You share, you care. At some point in time, you'll go to college, your sister will go to college, and you will go your separate ways. Yet, when it's holiday time or spring break or whatever, you'll get back together and celebrate being a family again. And you will still love your mom, your sister just like you do now. Is that such a bad life? Such a terrible future to look forward to?" I decided I had to say one more thing, it was hard, awful, but I had to say it. "You going to invite Roger to Christmas dinner? Have him over for Thanksgiving?" She didn't react the way I expected. Shannon looked at me like I'd suggested something unthinkable. "No, I guess not." Her expression was one of thought, not anger. "I've never thought about it like that." She looked at me, smiled. "I don't think anyone has." She gave a half-hearted laugh, "God, hormones so mess you up!" "Hormones messed me up tonight," I told her. "I never thought about doing something like I did. My dad told me before I went to my first dance, 'Make sure, Tom, you go home with the girl you brung to the dance.' I saw your mom, I could feel something inside me..." I reached out and touched Shannon's cheek. "I swear to you, that if you'd wanted me, if you hadn't left, I'd have left with you, not Mary. But your mom is a powerful woman." "Not according to my father," Shannon said. "I told your mom earlier, you can lead an ass to water, you can make it drink; but it's still an ass." She looked at me and shook her head. "And what does that pithy bit of wisdom mean?" "It means he's your father, was your father and will stay your father. But he's an ass, first and foremost." Shannon nodded, looking thoughtful. "All my life, he's been there. Gruff, curt, anything he did for any of us, seemed like it was a great imposition on him. And now he's gone." She looked steadily at me. "He chortled with glee; he laughed about abandoning us. Mom, he said, was useless in bed, useless as a mother; she only existed because he did everything for her. Now, he told us, we'd see who was important, him or her. Get a job, he told Mom. You can be a waitress, maybe. Maybe a bag boy at the supermarket. Don't try to be a prostitute, he told her, you'd starve. He laughed and laughed and laughed, said one hateful thing after another, then he left." "I'm sorry, Shannon," I said, feeling the pain in her, as I'd felt it earlier in Mary. "Elizabeth came in for the worst, after Mom. He said if she was so bright, why didn't she have friends? God, it was awful for her. And me, he told me, if nothing else, I could probably earn enough on my back, fucking one boy after another to keep the rest fed." "You have to consider the source," I told her, trying to do anything to make her feel better. "Be judgmental about sources, too." I tried to smile. She sighed, shook her head. "I did want you, you know. Like I've wanted other boys before you." "And I wanted you," I told her, "Like I've wanted other girls before. Still do want you." She looked at me, searching my face. "Mom said she was confused? Me too." "Shannon, next week, for a week, I have to go to LA on a family trip. I wish, right now, it wasn't so. The world is confused for me too, just not confused in the same way as yours." "My father accused me of being ready to spread my legs for any boy that walked past me." I shook my head. "That's not true." She met my eyes. "Maybe. I don't know any more. I know I want you so bad, I can taste it." "And if I was someone like Roger or Keith or Sam about now, I'd grab you and do it," I told her. "Except I'm not those people, I'm me, Tom Ferguson." She put her hand on the front of my slacks. "You're hard," Shannon murmured. "I never said I was perfect," I told her. "That part of me has its own agenda." I tapped my forehead. "However this part of me is in control, and this part of me," I tapped my heart, "tells my brain that now's not a good time." She shivered, looked at me. "God, I want to feel a hard cock inside me, right now! God I want to be fucked! God, it would be such a bad idea!" She moved her hand from my slacks, stroked my cheek. "Good night, Tom." "Good night, Shannon." She started forward, like she was going to kiss me. I looked at her steadily, and she giggled. "Yeah, probably couldn't stop if I started. I want to see you again." "And I want to see you." "And my mom?" "And Mary, yes." She sighed, smiled, turned and went through the door. I walked back to my car, drove the five minutes home, I walked upstairs, saw Jenny was snuggled up in my bed. I smiled at her, undressed and crawled in next to her. She opened one eye, smiled at me. "Elizabeth says hello," I told Jenny, and she smiled so pretty. "I told her hello from you, too." "Joanna and your dad went to Kim's tonight." I nodded, and then Jenny added, "Your mom helped me get to sleep." I hugged her, and she smiled at me. "Did you have a good time?" I sighed, "Yes and no. Not at all what I expected." "Hug me, Tom." I hugged her again, and she was asleep again. I kissed her forehead, fell asleep myself. I'd never dreamed about any of the girls in my life, at least not this week. What did I need wet dreams for when the waking versions were so much better? I knew I was dreaming. Marsha walked up to me, put her arm around me and hugged me, then kissed me hard. "Love you, Tom." Then JR did the same thing. Penny, Kim, Mom. Jenny did it, then Mary and Shannon. Mom waved a few feet away, and I looked where she'd pointed. Aunt Shirley, and a black woman I barely recognized; I'd seen her once, two or three years ago. A group of shadowy faces, the others Dad had talked about this morning. As many as there were around me already. I blinked, startled by the number. Mom smiled at me, touched my face. "So Tom? Who's first?" I looked around, mentally gulped. How many times can you say 'too much of a good thing', real fast? Then Mom kissed me hard, then Marsha, then Kim and Penny, Jenny smiled shyly at me, blew me a kiss, eyes sparkling. Shannon kissed me, felt my boner, and grinned. "Never forget me." I shook my head, mystified. Then looked at Mary. I walked to her, held her. "You're first in my heart. Now, always." She shook her head. "You have a year and a bit of high school left; then college. Maybe grad school. Anything else, and you're cheating yourself. I couldn't let that happen, Tom. Wouldn't. How would we live? My income as a waitress? A check out clerk at the store? Do you know how many years in jail I'd get if I moved in with you? Or you with me? You're half my age, Tom." "Mary, you and me. Not only you and me, but me and you. Always. I don't want to get married just yet, and there might be a little surprise if we did. But, I promise you, you will always be in my heart. Always." "I don't accept charity, Tom." "And what did you accept from your husband all these years?" "Too much, I think. Too much. Now I have nothing." "Mary, you're wrong. You are wealthy beyond imagination, it's your husband who is poverty stricken. You have people who love you. Unless he has that, what could he possibly have that's worth more?" It was a dream; I knew it was a dream. My mind made the mental leap; something Dad had mentioned a year or so ago when he was talking to me about my personal finances. Yes, Mary, I do have a little surprise for you. Just a little. And it's true, you have much more than you think. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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