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Country Cousins
- Thread starter EasyRory
- Start date
EasyRory
JUB Addict
This "Mike" chapter is relatively short; even so it was hard to write. I kept adding stuff (but that only added confusion) and then I'd take the stuff out again.
He's a complicated guy. We all want to console him.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Seventeen – Victoria
I think of myself as a patient person, a reservoir of reserve, a SILO of STOLIDITY. And that's why I truly TREASURE Royal Castle Eustis. MY ROY, as I now think of him, all of him, every little part of him. And I use that 'little' affectionately, ever since I asked my friend Brewster about the size of Roy's YOU-KNOW-WHAT. Brewster says it sounds average to her and she should know being the first of my friends to DO IT with that cousin of hers. They were goin' LIKE RABBITS all summer long until that medical issue, but Brewster said a series of SHOTS solved everything just about.
And so I was patient with Momma and her pickin' at Roy, accusing him of being FLIGHTY in the FLORSHEIMS, as she put it, and she has so MANY ways of putting it. Finally she PROVOKED me so sorely I had to respond. “RENEE,” I told her, “I've WORN OUT two diaphragms this summer with Roy Eustis and yours hasn't even been out of its CASE! Or don't you NEED IT any more?”
I didn't tell her that the first diaphragm was a little dried out and tore when I practiced inserting it and the second one became painful to use after Roy STEPPED on it. But ANYWAY, she canceled my BCBG account for being sassy and I have to get even. And I will. Gerbils are tenacious, aren't they? Almost like badgers but without so many teeth? So it's comin', BITCH, it's comin'. Oh, my, did I say that?
I just don't know what IT is going to be yet. So I have been taking SOLACE from Roy. Such a sweet boy, he's never demanding, even when we are right in the MIDDLE of it, he's gentle and slow. Sometimes maybe TOO SLOW, but that's just because I'm getting used to how things work. No drama, no surprises. Reliability as opposed to resourcefulness, that's my Roy. And he IS cute with those pretty eyes of his, even Brewster thinks so, so I have to watch him when she's around. I'm afraid she would INHALE him and I'd be left with the just the Florsheims.
So last night at TGI Friday's – the one outside Front Royal - just when everything looked so UNPROMISING, there it was. Or rather there HE was. REVENGE! PAYBACK! Momma's carpenter! Roy didn't want to bother him, but I said he NEEDS us, Royal, sittin' there all alone with only a cheeseburger for company.
“Hey, Mike Pierce, it's so nice to see YOU again,” I said and he looked confused. “I'm Vicky, Renee La Gerbille's daughter. Remember?” I pushed my breasts forward the way Momma TRIES to do and he responded with a smile and a hello. “And this is my friend Roy Eustis. Do y'all know each other?”
Roy was acting oddly. “I'm a friend of Will Perry. I've seen you over at his place.”
“Right,” the carpenter answered in a neutral tone.
Push it, girl, I said to myself. “You look like you need some COMPANY. Mind if we join you?” I sat in the booth before he could say no. “Well, SIT DOWN, Roy!” It was an order; I didn't understand his reluctance. Roy's usually so outgoing.
I want you to know I never deliberately CONCOCTED anything. It wasn't a process or a scheme. The plan just appeared in my mind out of nowhere and it FELL into place. The gin and tonics helped I suppose. And it was so nice not to get CARDED the way they do in Manassas; my ID photo is SO unflattering. I never take a bad picture, but the picture isn't actually ME; it's one of Momma when she was thirty. Anyway, I decided I was going to take Mike home. And Roy, too, of course. And once we were in bed … I was going to have the world's loudest orgasm. And Momma would come running and there I'd be with Roy and HER CARPENTER! It may not have been the best thought out plan, but I'd one or maybe TWO up on her. She would have to give me the BCBG charge back out of MORTIFICATION!
By the time for last call, I complained I wanted another drink and there was no place to go and then, like it just POPPED into my mind, I proposed “Y'all know what? We could go to MY place. Why didn't I THINK of that!”
“You just did,” Mike said and got a chuckle from Roy. FINALLY those two were warming up a little. “You sure your momma won't mind?”
Roy looked at his phone for the time. “Sleeping pills. She last registered a pulse about an hour ago.”
“Why, Royal Eustis, how would you know about those pills?” He truly surprised me with that comment.
“She showed them to me. Called them the nurse of old age.”
“She also calls vodka the nurse of old age,” Mike said. “Sex, too,” he added talking almost privately to Roy.
“As if I'm NOT EVEN HERE ...” I pantomimed a dim and disapproving glare.
Twenty-five minutes later, the two trucks pulled up the drive. We entered through the kitchen, picking up gin, tonic, ice, and glasses. I told them my room was a good place to go, nobody would hear us.
The glasses were cumbersome. I guess I was the first one to actually DRINK from the BOTTLE. It seemed like a funny thing at the time. Then Roy did and I said, “Let me TASTE that gin.” And I gave him a big kiss. And then Mike took a swig. “Can't have YOU feeling left out!” I said and planted a WET ONE on him. “Now which one of y'all is hotter?” I repeated the process several times; but with gin-numbed lips, it was hard for any of us to tell. Besides, kissing wasn't the objective. I got naked in a flash but the boys were coy about getting their clothes off. They both tried to get into my bed WEARING their underwear. “Take those thing off or you'll see the biggest fire since SHERMAN burned ATLANTA!” I demanded.
Things were awkward at first. I had NO CLUE how complicated three sets of everything could make the SIMPLEST motions. It was close to a wrestling match when suddenly Mike said, “WHOA!” and everything came to a halt.
“What's wrong?” I asked.
“Uh, Mike and I … we, uh, crossed swords,” Roy explained.
“CROSSED SWORDS! That's SO ROMANTIC. Like y'all were DUELING over me.” It was fun to think that and then “WOOOH!” from me, getting a giggle from Mike.
“We're not dueling OVER you, now we're dueling IN you,” said the carpenter getting another giggle from Roy.
It was that giggle that did it. “WOOOH!” I said again. I half jumped when something in me connected like two hot wires. “OH!” and again, “Oh, myyyyyyy,” and then “WOOOH!”
“You're sounding like an owl,” Roy said and then laughed again, shaking up my insides and shocking me again.
“WOOOH! OOOH! WOOOH!”
“I think the owl just came,” Mike said.
Well! I tell you! I was SUFFUSED! Totally SUFFUSED! So THAT was what sex was about! And the TWO of them were still in me, mushing around and pressing on things and exciting me. “WOOOH!” Again! I wondered how loud I had been. I really hadn't been in control and if Momma heard me she'd be arriving any minute. I waited for the door to open while the three of us writhed slowly, with the boys enjoying it more now. I could hear them moaning.
“Shhh!” I cautioned. “We don't want to be too loud.” But then things got out of control again. I think Mike sort of grabbed Roy and they synchronized their writhing until, “WOOOH!” Again! “WOOOH!” Thoughts of Momma, revenge, and triumph were burned out of my head by the heat that was melting my insides.
My plan went OUT the WINDOW! I tried to keep my cries quiet. I didn't want this to END. Finally I couldn't TAKE any more. It felt like the delicate things inside me had been HOMOGENIZED and my surviving diaphragm had been dislocated or displaced or something. “Boys. Wait. I've got to check something.” I got up and went into the bathroom. After I had removed the diaphragm, I cleaned myself up a little and went back to the bedroom. No signs of Momma, thank the LORD. Those pills must really work. And there were my two little ANGELS talking quietly. About what? I wondered as pulled the blanket back. They were both still erect! Now what? I sure didn't want any more goings-on IN ME just then.
Mike was in the middle and I said to him, “Would you like me to help you out?” I put my hand on his thigh in what I hoped was an arousing way. Maybe he'll say “No, I'm good,” in that STOIC way boys have. I hoped so because I sure didn't know a THING about giving a blow job. Unfortunately he didn't say anything. I leaned forward. His cock SMELLED OF ME, which was oddly repellent; but I GAVE IT a TRY! He groaned and not from pleasure.
Then – my GOD! - THEN - these are Roy's own words, I swear! “Here, let me SHOW YOU!!!!” And on the SPOT, or should I say in my BED, my gallant Roy switched from DUELING to SWORDSWALLOWING! Pausing every now and then to GIVE ME DIRECTIONS!
No teeth! Use your hands! Don't actually blow, suck! The ultimate was: Now YOU try! But just then Mike let out this huge groan and jammed Roy's head back on his cock and EXPLODED!
I don't know what to say about this, really ... It was quite an awesome moment ... Seeing my BOYFRIEND suck dick like that. My little puss was all wet again. Definitely an awkward moment, for sure. SOMETHING needed SAYING! So I ventured a word or two.
“I'm free Wednesday night! Or even TOMORROW, if y'all would like.” I tried to keep my tone light, I didn't want to make it sound like a date or a commitment or anything. I settled on Monday and hoped I could get a new diaphragm by then. My Roy HATES condoms.
I think of myself as a patient person, a reservoir of reserve, a SILO of STOLIDITY. And that's why I truly TREASURE Royal Castle Eustis. MY ROY, as I now think of him, all of him, every little part of him. And I use that 'little' affectionately, ever since I asked my friend Brewster about the size of Roy's YOU-KNOW-WHAT. Brewster says it sounds average to her and she should know being the first of my friends to DO IT with that cousin of hers. They were goin' LIKE RABBITS all summer long until that medical issue, but Brewster said a series of SHOTS solved everything just about.
And so I was patient with Momma and her pickin' at Roy, accusing him of being FLIGHTY in the FLORSHEIMS, as she put it, and she has so MANY ways of putting it. Finally she PROVOKED me so sorely I had to respond. “RENEE,” I told her, “I've WORN OUT two diaphragms this summer with Roy Eustis and yours hasn't even been out of its CASE! Or don't you NEED IT any more?”
I didn't tell her that the first diaphragm was a little dried out and tore when I practiced inserting it and the second one became painful to use after Roy STEPPED on it. But ANYWAY, she canceled my BCBG account for being sassy and I have to get even. And I will. Gerbils are tenacious, aren't they? Almost like badgers but without so many teeth? So it's comin', BITCH, it's comin'. Oh, my, did I say that?
I just don't know what IT is going to be yet. So I have been taking SOLACE from Roy. Such a sweet boy, he's never demanding, even when we are right in the MIDDLE of it, he's gentle and slow. Sometimes maybe TOO SLOW, but that's just because I'm getting used to how things work. No drama, no surprises. Reliability as opposed to resourcefulness, that's my Roy. And he IS cute with those pretty eyes of his, even Brewster thinks so, so I have to watch him when she's around. I'm afraid she would INHALE him and I'd be left with the just the Florsheims.
So last night at TGI Friday's – the one outside Front Royal - just when everything looked so UNPROMISING, there it was. Or rather there HE was. REVENGE! PAYBACK! Momma's carpenter! Roy didn't want to bother him, but I said he NEEDS us, Royal, sittin' there all alone with only a cheeseburger for company.
“Hey, Mike Pierce, it's so nice to see YOU again,” I said and he looked confused. “I'm Vicky, Renee La Gerbille's daughter. Remember?” I pushed my breasts forward the way Momma TRIES to do and he responded with a smile and a hello. “And this is my friend Roy Eustis. Do y'all know each other?”
Roy was acting oddly. “I'm a friend of Will Perry. I've seen you over at his place.”
“Right,” the carpenter answered in a neutral tone.
Push it, girl, I said to myself. “You look like you need some COMPANY. Mind if we join you?” I sat in the booth before he could say no. “Well, SIT DOWN, Roy!” It was an order; I didn't understand his reluctance. Roy's usually so outgoing.
I want you to know I never deliberately CONCOCTED anything. It wasn't a process or a scheme. The plan just appeared in my mind out of nowhere and it FELL into place. The gin and tonics helped I suppose. And it was so nice not to get CARDED the way they do in Manassas; my ID photo is SO unflattering. I never take a bad picture, but the picture isn't actually ME; it's one of Momma when she was thirty. Anyway, I decided I was going to take Mike home. And Roy, too, of course. And once we were in bed … I was going to have the world's loudest orgasm. And Momma would come running and there I'd be with Roy and HER CARPENTER! It may not have been the best thought out plan, but I'd one or maybe TWO up on her. She would have to give me the BCBG charge back out of MORTIFICATION!
By the time for last call, I complained I wanted another drink and there was no place to go and then, like it just POPPED into my mind, I proposed “Y'all know what? We could go to MY place. Why didn't I THINK of that!”
“You just did,” Mike said and got a chuckle from Roy. FINALLY those two were warming up a little. “You sure your momma won't mind?”
Roy looked at his phone for the time. “Sleeping pills. She last registered a pulse about an hour ago.”
“Why, Royal Eustis, how would you know about those pills?” He truly surprised me with that comment.
“She showed them to me. Called them the nurse of old age.”
“She also calls vodka the nurse of old age,” Mike said. “Sex, too,” he added talking almost privately to Roy.
“As if I'm NOT EVEN HERE ...” I pantomimed a dim and disapproving glare.
Twenty-five minutes later, the two trucks pulled up the drive. We entered through the kitchen, picking up gin, tonic, ice, and glasses. I told them my room was a good place to go, nobody would hear us.
The glasses were cumbersome. I guess I was the first one to actually DRINK from the BOTTLE. It seemed like a funny thing at the time. Then Roy did and I said, “Let me TASTE that gin.” And I gave him a big kiss. And then Mike took a swig. “Can't have YOU feeling left out!” I said and planted a WET ONE on him. “Now which one of y'all is hotter?” I repeated the process several times; but with gin-numbed lips, it was hard for any of us to tell. Besides, kissing wasn't the objective. I got naked in a flash but the boys were coy about getting their clothes off. They both tried to get into my bed WEARING their underwear. “Take those thing off or you'll see the biggest fire since SHERMAN burned ATLANTA!” I demanded.
Things were awkward at first. I had NO CLUE how complicated three sets of everything could make the SIMPLEST motions. It was close to a wrestling match when suddenly Mike said, “WHOA!” and everything came to a halt.
“What's wrong?” I asked.
“Uh, Mike and I … we, uh, crossed swords,” Roy explained.
“CROSSED SWORDS! That's SO ROMANTIC. Like y'all were DUELING over me.” It was fun to think that and then “WOOOH!” from me, getting a giggle from Mike.
“We're not dueling OVER you, now we're dueling IN you,” said the carpenter getting another giggle from Roy.
It was that giggle that did it. “WOOOH!” I said again. I half jumped when something in me connected like two hot wires. “OH!” and again, “Oh, myyyyyyy,” and then “WOOOH!”
“You're sounding like an owl,” Roy said and then laughed again, shaking up my insides and shocking me again.
“WOOOH! OOOH! WOOOH!”
“I think the owl just came,” Mike said.
Well! I tell you! I was SUFFUSED! Totally SUFFUSED! So THAT was what sex was about! And the TWO of them were still in me, mushing around and pressing on things and exciting me. “WOOOH!” Again! I wondered how loud I had been. I really hadn't been in control and if Momma heard me she'd be arriving any minute. I waited for the door to open while the three of us writhed slowly, with the boys enjoying it more now. I could hear them moaning.
“Shhh!” I cautioned. “We don't want to be too loud.” But then things got out of control again. I think Mike sort of grabbed Roy and they synchronized their writhing until, “WOOOH!” Again! “WOOOH!” Thoughts of Momma, revenge, and triumph were burned out of my head by the heat that was melting my insides.
My plan went OUT the WINDOW! I tried to keep my cries quiet. I didn't want this to END. Finally I couldn't TAKE any more. It felt like the delicate things inside me had been HOMOGENIZED and my surviving diaphragm had been dislocated or displaced or something. “Boys. Wait. I've got to check something.” I got up and went into the bathroom. After I had removed the diaphragm, I cleaned myself up a little and went back to the bedroom. No signs of Momma, thank the LORD. Those pills must really work. And there were my two little ANGELS talking quietly. About what? I wondered as pulled the blanket back. They were both still erect! Now what? I sure didn't want any more goings-on IN ME just then.
Mike was in the middle and I said to him, “Would you like me to help you out?” I put my hand on his thigh in what I hoped was an arousing way. Maybe he'll say “No, I'm good,” in that STOIC way boys have. I hoped so because I sure didn't know a THING about giving a blow job. Unfortunately he didn't say anything. I leaned forward. His cock SMELLED OF ME, which was oddly repellent; but I GAVE IT a TRY! He groaned and not from pleasure.
Then – my GOD! - THEN - these are Roy's own words, I swear! “Here, let me SHOW YOU!!!!” And on the SPOT, or should I say in my BED, my gallant Roy switched from DUELING to SWORDSWALLOWING! Pausing every now and then to GIVE ME DIRECTIONS!
No teeth! Use your hands! Don't actually blow, suck! The ultimate was: Now YOU try! But just then Mike let out this huge groan and jammed Roy's head back on his cock and EXPLODED!
I don't know what to say about this, really ... It was quite an awesome moment ... Seeing my BOYFRIEND suck dick like that. My little puss was all wet again. Definitely an awkward moment, for sure. SOMETHING needed SAYING! So I ventured a word or two.
“I'm free Wednesday night! Or even TOMORROW, if y'all would like.” I tried to keep my tone light, I didn't want to make it sound like a date or a commitment or anything. I settled on Monday and hoped I could get a new diaphragm by then. My Roy HATES condoms.
But your Roy Loves him some Cum fresh from the pump.
I wonder if Roy will offer Mike another part of his anatomy as receptacle the next time?
Do I have to say it? This was Fun - Fan-fucking-tastic fun.
Loved the crossed swords inside her. A fantasy I've had dating back a longgggg time.
I wonder if Roy will offer Mike another part of his anatomy as receptacle the next time?
Do I have to say it? This was Fun - Fan-fucking-tastic fun.
Loved the crossed swords inside her. A fantasy I've had dating back a longgggg time.
Craiger
JUB Addict
Good old Roy. Being such a good tutor....and loving every minute of it...particularly the explosion. Goodness, where will all this lead? Hopefully for more of the same between Roy and Mike. Even Vicky was turned on by those events.
Craiger
Craiger
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Eighteen – Roy
“Threesome ... A Home at the End of the World ... El Sexo de los Angeles ... The Dreamers ... Jules et Jim ...” My professor read the film titles as if they constituted a list of poisons. “I take it, Mr. Eustis, you want to probe the subject of threesomes. 'Jules et Jim', by the way, isn't about a threesome; it's about shifting affections among three people who are never a threesome in the way you seem to expect.” He sounded very negative on the topic, so negative that I eventually wrote my paper on classical symbolism in the films of Val Lewton and got an A minus.
They say write about what you know, however; and the threesome was what I knew. Vicky, Mike, and I had made the most of what was left of the summer, meeting two or three times a week. Vicky, who had discovered the Big O, was blindly enthusiastic in what I have to call a selfish way. 'Make me cum' was her motto. I really don't think she cared whether Mike and I got off or not as long as her diaphragm survived the experience intact. Once when she referred to her use of spermicide, I had a vision of her interior passages littered with the bodies of gassed 23-chromosome soldiers. That was the only time I lost my erection utterly.
Mike never lost his. As far as I could tell, he was permanently hard. He was hard before he got his pant off and still pretty hard when he put them back on. And it was an awesome erection, long and thick without being grotesque. In fact when we lay them along side each other, his wasn't really that much bigger than mine, but it seemed that way. The best part was both of us coming together inside Vicky. We never discussed the technique, but he would always reach around Vicky and grab me by the ass and synchronize our thrusting so that his thrust preceded mine by about … how to put this? … by about half a dick-length. His thrust would stimulate me and mine would stimulate him without either one of us popping out of Vicky, who was ignoring us and going crazy as our combined thickness made all her insides move.
I could never actually feel this in the kind of detail I'm describing while it was going on. All I could feel was Mike's hands on my ass, which was awesome. He'd grab both my cheeks and maneuver me like my ass was a remote control device. I think that was mostly what got me off. It was our only direct interaction. Well, that's not quite true. A couple of times when we tried eating out Vicky together we were kind of kissing while we did it, but I don't think Mike meant that to happen. I did – I loved it; but I really don't think he did.
There was that one time, though, when I was on the bottom and he was on the top that I grabbed his ass. I quickly took my hands away, pretending it was an accident and I heard him chuckle. His ass is awesome. Am I using that word too much? It's true, though. Beefy and soft and hard all at the same time and I want to squeeze it. In fact, I want to squeeze all of him; but there was only one time I got to do that when Vicky got out of bed unexpectedly and Mike and I ended up in each others arms.
The time I sucked his dick was awesome – pretending I was teaching Vicky how to do it. In fact, replaying that time in my head has become my main jack-off fantasy. Which I am doing a lot here at school, unfortunately. I mean, I could probably find a willing body of one sex or another – they're around – but it wouldn't begin to replace Vicky and Mike.
Despite all this wild fucking, we never talked about it, we just did it. The closest Mike ever came to talking about anything was one time when he couldn't make one of our get togethers. “I have to see Yolanda Hamilton that night,” he said. Vicky said that was some older woman he was screwing for money. The two of us did have sex that night, but it wasn't the same. We both missed Mike.
All of this is made me look forward to Halloween. Vicky wanted Mike and me to take her to a costume ball. I've agreed but I didn't know whether Mike had or not. I got texts from Vicky that never explain much other than the time and place and would I please dress as Rhett Butler. So the last weekend of October, I went home, which involved a complicated train trip from Williamsburg to Manassas via Alexandria.
I got off the train in Manassas and looked for Vicky. Just when I thought I was being stood up, I heard the familiar voice. “Hey, Roy.” Two fucking words and I was a mess.
“Mike ...” He was wearing a sport jacket and a tie. “I hardly know you with your clothes on.”
He gave me a grin and said, “I had to see a lawyer and Vicky asked me if I would pick you up and give you your costume and we're supposed to meet her at the place around seven-thirty.”
That was more than I'd ever heard him say at once before. I said the stupidest thing. “You look so young.” He grinned again. “And handsome. Has she got you dressed as Rhett Butler, too?”
“I think I'm supposed to be a slave or something. She said to wear coveralls and a red bandana and a straw hat. I've never been to one of these things before.”
The road looked unfamiliar. I asked him “Where are we going?”
“I thought we could go to my place and get changed and then head over to Warrenton for the dance. Plus, I gotta feed the chickens. If that's ok with you ...”
I quickly learned that Mike isn't one to waste time on the road and we got to his place about fifteen minutes later. It was a small wooden house with a covered front porch across the whole width. It looked almost romantic until the realities of country living incinerated that vision.
Chickens. Of course, I knew about chickens; I'd even seen some - at a distance. Up close, they looked like their ancestors. Red reptilian eyes glared at me. Sharp beaks and even sharper claws. Permanently pissed off at life. That's what chickens look like. Their driving emotion was so plain – right on their faces. They hated me.
“No, they don't.” Mike laughed. “They're only interested in what you can do for them. They're not trying to harm you. Are you going to eat them, feed them, or fuck them? That's all that goes on in those little heads.” Mike fed them and they clustered around him. “I had to get rid of the rooster. The flock was getting too big. This way I get about a dozen eggs a day. We used to sell them, but now I give them away.”
Who was the 'we', I wondered as I watched him gather a few eggs from the hen house. I helped him rake the enclosed pen and admired his efficiency. He accomplished more with one swipe of the rake than I did with ten.
“Did you build the hen house?”
“No, a guy who lived here for a while, Butch, did. He's in the chicken business. Turkeys, too,” he added as an afterthought. “I improved it, though. These are the only chickens I know of with a parquet floor under their roost.” He looked for my reaction and explained, “Not that they appreciate it. I needed the practice. I was learning some new techniques.”
We were quiet walking back to the house. I carried the basket of eggs and put them in his small and mostly empty refrigerator.
“Hope you don't mind showering outside,” he said. “I don't use the well unless I have to. You don't want it drying up in the winter.”
The shower was walled-off and plumbed on a concrete slab at the side of the house. It wasn't as primitive as a bucket with holes hanging from a rope, but it was fed from a rain barrel that collected water from the roof. Mike led the way wrapped in a towel. I'd like to say it was sexy looking but it wasn't. He was sexy looking, but the towel was all business, big enough to extend below his knees and thick enough to hide all body contours. A quick flash of his ass was the only excitement I got.
“Whoo! Cold,” he called out. Wet down. Lather. Rinse. Done. When it was my turn I quickly learned how to take a very fast shower.
“It's warmer in the summer,” he called from his bedroom.
I got into my costume, which fit amazingly well and reviewed the results from my reflection in the front window. Not bad, I decided. I thought about penciling on a rakish moustache, but gave up that idea. With my light hair, I'd go for the Ashley Wilkes look.
Mike came out of his bedroom wearing his costume. Blue denim coveralls, a red neckerchief, boots, and a straw cowboy-style hat. He included a white t-shirt, which was only semi-authentic. Most rednecks would skip that if they weren't gonna be out in the sun long. He made the costume look good, very good; the coveralls displayed his body very well.
Despite out nights together with Vicky, I really didn't know a lot about Mike's appearance. We were usually in a dark room. I knew he was well build, but the full effect of the snug coveralls made my mouth go dry. He smiled when he saw my mouth fall open.
“You look right dapper yourself, Roy. Right out of some steamy paperback. Ready?”
The drive began quietly. I'm usually pretty talkative, but Mike intimidated me. Did he know how sexy he was? Mike brought up the subject of Vicky.
“Do you know what the arrangements are for tonight? Sleeping arrangements, I mean? Are we gonna go back to Vicky's or what?”
“I have no idea. I guess I assumed we would … but she never said anything. I wasn't planning to go home.”
We arrived at Airlie House, an old plantation that had been turned into a conference center. We put on our black masks and walked into the ballroom. It wasn't easy to find Vicky. Every girl there was a some version of Scarlet O'Hara in a big hoopskirt. I blended in pretty well also, most of the guys were dressed in planter's suits with string ties, carrying broad hats. Mike was the stand out. Nobody was dressed like him and he got a lot of looks. After a fruitless search around the room, Vicky found us.
“There you are, my handsome beaux,” she gushed in an accent from much farther south than Virginia. She stood between us and took both our arms, pulling us toward the refreshments. “I DO SO recommend the punch. It has a real punch!” she said a bit loudly.
“How many have you had?” Mike asked.
“Oh, fiddle-dee-dee,” Vicky twittered. “I can't wait to dance.”
“And how are you folks tonight?” asked Luna Smith, who was also sipping on a punch. “So nice to see you … Vicky and Royal, I'm guessing? And … who is this?” She looked Mike up and down very deliberately making hmmm noises. “That dick looks VERY familiar. In fact, I'd know it anywhere.” I looked at Mike's coveralls and could not detect any distinguishing signs of a bulge.
Luna took a large swallow of the punch and continued. “A field hand? No … a bit up from that. A carpenter, perhaps?” She drained her glass and snatched mine right out of my hands. “MY CARPENTER, PERHAPS.”
“Maybe we should go out for some air,” Vicky proposed.
“HOW COULD YOU BRING HIM HERE???? HE'S FUCKED HALF THE WOMEN IN THE ROOM!”
Vicky dissolved into tears as Mrs. Smith continued her tirade. She called Mike every name she could think of and tried to drag other people into the scene she was making. Vicky ran from us, top the ladies' room, I guessed. Mrs. Smith worked up a full head of steam and tried to attack Mike physically. Fortunately, a couple of women restrained her. Mike walked away toward the porch doors.
“I'll get Vicky,” I called to him and hurried in the direction Vicky had taken. I had to ask Emma Perry to go into the ladies room and tell her I was waiting. After a few minutes she appeared.
“Willis is taking me home, just go. I never want to see either of you again.”
“Threesome ... A Home at the End of the World ... El Sexo de los Angeles ... The Dreamers ... Jules et Jim ...” My professor read the film titles as if they constituted a list of poisons. “I take it, Mr. Eustis, you want to probe the subject of threesomes. 'Jules et Jim', by the way, isn't about a threesome; it's about shifting affections among three people who are never a threesome in the way you seem to expect.” He sounded very negative on the topic, so negative that I eventually wrote my paper on classical symbolism in the films of Val Lewton and got an A minus.
They say write about what you know, however; and the threesome was what I knew. Vicky, Mike, and I had made the most of what was left of the summer, meeting two or three times a week. Vicky, who had discovered the Big O, was blindly enthusiastic in what I have to call a selfish way. 'Make me cum' was her motto. I really don't think she cared whether Mike and I got off or not as long as her diaphragm survived the experience intact. Once when she referred to her use of spermicide, I had a vision of her interior passages littered with the bodies of gassed 23-chromosome soldiers. That was the only time I lost my erection utterly.
Mike never lost his. As far as I could tell, he was permanently hard. He was hard before he got his pant off and still pretty hard when he put them back on. And it was an awesome erection, long and thick without being grotesque. In fact when we lay them along side each other, his wasn't really that much bigger than mine, but it seemed that way. The best part was both of us coming together inside Vicky. We never discussed the technique, but he would always reach around Vicky and grab me by the ass and synchronize our thrusting so that his thrust preceded mine by about … how to put this? … by about half a dick-length. His thrust would stimulate me and mine would stimulate him without either one of us popping out of Vicky, who was ignoring us and going crazy as our combined thickness made all her insides move.
I could never actually feel this in the kind of detail I'm describing while it was going on. All I could feel was Mike's hands on my ass, which was awesome. He'd grab both my cheeks and maneuver me like my ass was a remote control device. I think that was mostly what got me off. It was our only direct interaction. Well, that's not quite true. A couple of times when we tried eating out Vicky together we were kind of kissing while we did it, but I don't think Mike meant that to happen. I did – I loved it; but I really don't think he did.
There was that one time, though, when I was on the bottom and he was on the top that I grabbed his ass. I quickly took my hands away, pretending it was an accident and I heard him chuckle. His ass is awesome. Am I using that word too much? It's true, though. Beefy and soft and hard all at the same time and I want to squeeze it. In fact, I want to squeeze all of him; but there was only one time I got to do that when Vicky got out of bed unexpectedly and Mike and I ended up in each others arms.
The time I sucked his dick was awesome – pretending I was teaching Vicky how to do it. In fact, replaying that time in my head has become my main jack-off fantasy. Which I am doing a lot here at school, unfortunately. I mean, I could probably find a willing body of one sex or another – they're around – but it wouldn't begin to replace Vicky and Mike.
Despite all this wild fucking, we never talked about it, we just did it. The closest Mike ever came to talking about anything was one time when he couldn't make one of our get togethers. “I have to see Yolanda Hamilton that night,” he said. Vicky said that was some older woman he was screwing for money. The two of us did have sex that night, but it wasn't the same. We both missed Mike.
All of this is made me look forward to Halloween. Vicky wanted Mike and me to take her to a costume ball. I've agreed but I didn't know whether Mike had or not. I got texts from Vicky that never explain much other than the time and place and would I please dress as Rhett Butler. So the last weekend of October, I went home, which involved a complicated train trip from Williamsburg to Manassas via Alexandria.
I got off the train in Manassas and looked for Vicky. Just when I thought I was being stood up, I heard the familiar voice. “Hey, Roy.” Two fucking words and I was a mess.
“Mike ...” He was wearing a sport jacket and a tie. “I hardly know you with your clothes on.”
He gave me a grin and said, “I had to see a lawyer and Vicky asked me if I would pick you up and give you your costume and we're supposed to meet her at the place around seven-thirty.”
That was more than I'd ever heard him say at once before. I said the stupidest thing. “You look so young.” He grinned again. “And handsome. Has she got you dressed as Rhett Butler, too?”
“I think I'm supposed to be a slave or something. She said to wear coveralls and a red bandana and a straw hat. I've never been to one of these things before.”
The road looked unfamiliar. I asked him “Where are we going?”
“I thought we could go to my place and get changed and then head over to Warrenton for the dance. Plus, I gotta feed the chickens. If that's ok with you ...”
I quickly learned that Mike isn't one to waste time on the road and we got to his place about fifteen minutes later. It was a small wooden house with a covered front porch across the whole width. It looked almost romantic until the realities of country living incinerated that vision.
Chickens. Of course, I knew about chickens; I'd even seen some - at a distance. Up close, they looked like their ancestors. Red reptilian eyes glared at me. Sharp beaks and even sharper claws. Permanently pissed off at life. That's what chickens look like. Their driving emotion was so plain – right on their faces. They hated me.
“No, they don't.” Mike laughed. “They're only interested in what you can do for them. They're not trying to harm you. Are you going to eat them, feed them, or fuck them? That's all that goes on in those little heads.” Mike fed them and they clustered around him. “I had to get rid of the rooster. The flock was getting too big. This way I get about a dozen eggs a day. We used to sell them, but now I give them away.”
Who was the 'we', I wondered as I watched him gather a few eggs from the hen house. I helped him rake the enclosed pen and admired his efficiency. He accomplished more with one swipe of the rake than I did with ten.
“Did you build the hen house?”
“No, a guy who lived here for a while, Butch, did. He's in the chicken business. Turkeys, too,” he added as an afterthought. “I improved it, though. These are the only chickens I know of with a parquet floor under their roost.” He looked for my reaction and explained, “Not that they appreciate it. I needed the practice. I was learning some new techniques.”
We were quiet walking back to the house. I carried the basket of eggs and put them in his small and mostly empty refrigerator.
“Hope you don't mind showering outside,” he said. “I don't use the well unless I have to. You don't want it drying up in the winter.”
The shower was walled-off and plumbed on a concrete slab at the side of the house. It wasn't as primitive as a bucket with holes hanging from a rope, but it was fed from a rain barrel that collected water from the roof. Mike led the way wrapped in a towel. I'd like to say it was sexy looking but it wasn't. He was sexy looking, but the towel was all business, big enough to extend below his knees and thick enough to hide all body contours. A quick flash of his ass was the only excitement I got.
“Whoo! Cold,” he called out. Wet down. Lather. Rinse. Done. When it was my turn I quickly learned how to take a very fast shower.
“It's warmer in the summer,” he called from his bedroom.
I got into my costume, which fit amazingly well and reviewed the results from my reflection in the front window. Not bad, I decided. I thought about penciling on a rakish moustache, but gave up that idea. With my light hair, I'd go for the Ashley Wilkes look.
Mike came out of his bedroom wearing his costume. Blue denim coveralls, a red neckerchief, boots, and a straw cowboy-style hat. He included a white t-shirt, which was only semi-authentic. Most rednecks would skip that if they weren't gonna be out in the sun long. He made the costume look good, very good; the coveralls displayed his body very well.
Despite out nights together with Vicky, I really didn't know a lot about Mike's appearance. We were usually in a dark room. I knew he was well build, but the full effect of the snug coveralls made my mouth go dry. He smiled when he saw my mouth fall open.
“You look right dapper yourself, Roy. Right out of some steamy paperback. Ready?”
The drive began quietly. I'm usually pretty talkative, but Mike intimidated me. Did he know how sexy he was? Mike brought up the subject of Vicky.
“Do you know what the arrangements are for tonight? Sleeping arrangements, I mean? Are we gonna go back to Vicky's or what?”
“I have no idea. I guess I assumed we would … but she never said anything. I wasn't planning to go home.”
We arrived at Airlie House, an old plantation that had been turned into a conference center. We put on our black masks and walked into the ballroom. It wasn't easy to find Vicky. Every girl there was a some version of Scarlet O'Hara in a big hoopskirt. I blended in pretty well also, most of the guys were dressed in planter's suits with string ties, carrying broad hats. Mike was the stand out. Nobody was dressed like him and he got a lot of looks. After a fruitless search around the room, Vicky found us.
“There you are, my handsome beaux,” she gushed in an accent from much farther south than Virginia. She stood between us and took both our arms, pulling us toward the refreshments. “I DO SO recommend the punch. It has a real punch!” she said a bit loudly.
“How many have you had?” Mike asked.
“Oh, fiddle-dee-dee,” Vicky twittered. “I can't wait to dance.”
“And how are you folks tonight?” asked Luna Smith, who was also sipping on a punch. “So nice to see you … Vicky and Royal, I'm guessing? And … who is this?” She looked Mike up and down very deliberately making hmmm noises. “That dick looks VERY familiar. In fact, I'd know it anywhere.” I looked at Mike's coveralls and could not detect any distinguishing signs of a bulge.
Luna took a large swallow of the punch and continued. “A field hand? No … a bit up from that. A carpenter, perhaps?” She drained her glass and snatched mine right out of my hands. “MY CARPENTER, PERHAPS.”
“Maybe we should go out for some air,” Vicky proposed.
“HOW COULD YOU BRING HIM HERE???? HE'S FUCKED HALF THE WOMEN IN THE ROOM!”
Vicky dissolved into tears as Mrs. Smith continued her tirade. She called Mike every name she could think of and tried to drag other people into the scene she was making. Vicky ran from us, top the ladies' room, I guessed. Mrs. Smith worked up a full head of steam and tried to attack Mike physically. Fortunately, a couple of women restrained her. Mike walked away toward the porch doors.
“I'll get Vicky,” I called to him and hurried in the direction Vicky had taken. I had to ask Emma Perry to go into the ladies room and tell her I was waiting. After a few minutes she appeared.
“Willis is taking me home, just go. I never want to see either of you again.”
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Oh, My! Vicky overreacts in her engrained Southern Belle brain, and places the blame on Roy and Mike, the true "villain" being the upstaged, outraged, Mrs. Smith! 
](/images/smilies/bang.gif "Brick wall ](*,)")
At least this might lead to bringing Willis into "The Mix"!
So many Interesting roads opening up to possibly follow!
Looking forward to More, Buddy!
All the more reasons to ... No Matter What ...
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
At least this might lead to bringing Willis into "The Mix"!
So many Interesting roads opening up to possibly follow!
Looking forward to More, Buddy!
All the more reasons to ... No Matter What ...
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
Craiger
JUB Addict
Goodness, Luna certainly knows how to spoil a party.....But the situation may not be lost. Roy did make it clear he hadn't planned on going home. It would be real gentleman like if Mike were to invite him to stay with him and the chickens. There certainly were plenty of eggs in the refrigerator for breakfast... 
Craiger
Craiger
The Summer of unbridled passion, dashed on the rocks of jealousy by an old prune.
Another hard slap in our poor Mike's face.
Queen Victoria deserves whatever she gets by way of disappointment.
Royal, on the other hand, deserves much more -
Another hard slap in our poor Mike's face.
Queen Victoria deserves whatever she gets by way of disappointment.
Royal, on the other hand, deserves much more -
EasyRory
JUB Addict
The next chapter is necessarily a little short. Maybe I'll post two.
*Cue Jeopardy theme song . . .*
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Eighteen – Marlee
“LUNA! Pull yourself together!” I practically had to drag her into the ladies lounge.
“I thought you weren't talking to me since I deflowered your son,” she slurred.
“Somebody had to. Now get in here. You're a sight!”
“And a sound!” Renee La Gerbille commented with a chuckle as she left. “Thankfully, your Willis is taking Victoria home, Marlee.”
“The hell he is!” I couldn't stand for that - Willis inserting his newly libidinous self into … well, if not strictly into Victoria, then into the scandal of the season.
“Lighten up, Marlee,” Luna commented as she bent over the sink.
“You,” I said in my take charge mode, “Hang that dress up before you're sick all over it. “I'll be back.”
And I was, right back, that is, after dealing with the treacherous Victoria. As a little girl, her dolls had only the briefest of lives with all their arms and legs. I didn't need to have Willis turn up missing anything. Fairfax, a safe choice if there ever was one, would take her home and Willis would remain at the dance, going no where with no one. The thing was, and it was a little disappointing, Willis didn't seem to resent my command. All he said to me was, “Vicky's gonna have a time of it fitting that hoop skirt into Fairfax's little car.”
Well, that may be true, but if the little minx has been fucking Mike, she's dealt with a whole lot more than fitting a big dress into a little Porsche. Naturally I didn't share this thought with Willis. “Mind your business, Willis. Go talk to that sweet girl in the pink dress. She's all alone. I believe she's visiting from Richmond.”
I returned to the scene of Luna retching into a toilet bowl. “How could you have gotten yourself into this state? It's not even nine o'clock.”
“I had a few with Smith before I left home. I actually tried to talk him into coming. And he almost agreed, except he hates costumes. And then I needed a few drinks to get up my courage to come here alone; but being on the committee and all, I had to ...” She was interrupted by the sudden reappearance of her lunch. I had to sympathize; it's not easy being fifty-something and alone. Taking her head out of the toilet bowl, she croaked, “Those Long Island iced teas go down so easily.”
“Perhaps you should try pills. My doctor has prescribed a diet pill that keeps me going all day.”
“Sweetie, YOUR doctor would prescribe anything you had the money for.”
“Well, at least you're feeling well enough to rip down poor Doctor Malmsey.”
“He's not poor and that's not his name,” she commented as she pulled her dress over her head. Getting herself back together, she became as serious as her degree of inebriation would permit. “Marlee, thank you for standing by me through this little ordeal. I don't know how I'm going to face people. Could you look and see if the carpenter is still out there?”
“Blessedly, he left, Luna. You may have said it wrong, but you were right about it being a mistake for him to come here. There must be a half-dozen women out there glad he's gone. You know he's messing with that Yolanda Hamilton person lately.”
“That's not HER name either. Did you know she's from some place in New York?” She said “New York” as if the idea alone might cause cancer. “And she's got Mike doing her clothes closet in cedar-infused HORSE HIDE?”
“How do you KNOW that?”
“He is a dream, though, isn't he?”
“Who?”
“Mike! Aren't you paying attention?”
“Luna, I don't think you're quite ready to face a crowd. What if we go for a little walk around the park?”
I wouldn't say we snuck out the kitchen door exactly, but we were close enough to smell the supper being prepared. From the back porch I looked back into the ballroom and saw Willis dancing with the girl in the pink dress. They were off by themselves in the shadows and his hands were … I hoped Luna wouldn't notice. Lord knows what kind of reaction that might set off.
Chapter Nineteen – Victoria
It has NEVER been my intention to cause controversy. On the other hand, putting Mrs. Smith into such distress was not the WORST calamity I could imagine. It's not as if she spilled a red drink onto my GOWN or something. And for HER to question the appropriateness of my wearing white, WELL, all that caused were smiles. We're not LIVING in the nineteenth century after all, even if we were dressed that way.
I did look a PICTURE that night, if I do say so. And Emma Perry wasn't even THERE! Then, to be flanked by TWO such HANDSOME escorts! I was truly the BELLE of the BALL, even if only briefly. But briefly, if it's memorable enough, is more than sufficient. Believe me: NOBODY is going to forget that night! And after the facts get fuzzy, all they'll remember was how FABULOUS I looked. I wore a shawl to get passed Momma, THAT'S how low cut my dress was.
I was so glad I had ridden to the ball with Momma. When Royal and Mike arrived, they could barely take their EYES off me. I will say Royal himself looked good, but MIKE! Every girl in the place was gonna envy me. He was positively BUSTIN' OUT of those coveralls. I wouldn't be surprised if every man in the place bought TWO PAIR the very next day just wishin' a LITTLE of Mike would rub off on them. He TRULY made me understand the point of the expression MORE is MORE. And it was ALL mine.
Well, not TOTALLY mine, as Luna Smith shouted out to all and sundry. He had also been partly HERS at one time, and I think everyone KNEW about my momma and that woman over near Leesburg. And Yolanda Something? I didn't even KNOW who that was.
When she made specific reference to Mike's BODY, I admit I got a little flushed. It was embarrassing, yes, but not anything SHOCKING. A well put-together young man isn't completely UNKNOWN in these parts. Then Roy got strangely protective of Mike and not ME when she said something about foot-long hot dogs. I actually thought he was going to insert HIMSELF between Luna and Mike when he should have been protecting ME! Luna just ignored Roy. It was Mike she was going after. I will say he took it like a man, the talk about his family and all. HURTFUL comments is what I would have called them, but men are different. They just LAUGH OFF that kind of thing. Luna made it sound like every man in Virginia named Pierce was out there PIERCING WOMEN for a living.
What KIND of a living could he possibly make? I wasn't paying ANYTHING.
So, EVENTUALLY Mrs. Smith wound down and Willis's momma took her AWAY. For SOME reason Mike was all upset and said he was going to leave, which more or less RUINED things for ME! A girl can't stay at a dance if she's been abandoned even by half of her escorts, especially since Mike's departure would be visible to everybody, even though everybody was trying hard not to look at us. And what was worse, Mike left immediately and ROYAL went with him, saying to ME, “You can get home, can't you?”
WELL! Talk about insulted! There I was - left ALONE at the punch bowl. I snatched up the first person I recognized.
“Willis, would you be a dear friend and take me home?” I let my hand drift down his back, stopping just below his belt line. He had a rather more attractive build than I expected. Before he could back out I quickly called over to Momma and told her, “Willis is takin' me home, Momma.” Now Willis is a decent sort, but I think he might be a little GAY and I expected to HEAR from Momma about it later. . Anyway he agreed and we walked slowly and deliberately toward the door. I let people have a GOOD LOOK at me as we crossed the dance floor, the PICTURE of happiness with Willis looking down my dress. Maybe he isn't TOTALLY gay after all. No matter. I was making a GRACEFUL exit until his MOTHER came charging out of the ladies room.
“Willis, I need you here. Your father can take Victoria home.”
“Tommy Lynn isn't here, Momma.”
“Your FATHER, not your uncle!”
Hmm. What was THAT about? How often do people forget who their fathers are?
So there I was trying to get a six-foot hoop skirt into a five-and-a-half foot Porsche. Mr. Perry tried to be helpful, but it took me to SOLVE the problem. I took the dress off. I was wearing a bodice and pantalettes; it wasn't like I was REVEALING anything. He had some bungee cords and we hooked the dress to the roof and motored away. From the way he kept eyeing me I began to wonder if perhaps I WAS revealing more than I knew. Tears came to my eyes. It was the only DEFENSE I could think of.
“There, there. It was quite a night, wasn't it?” He PATTED my LEG! And I think Momma had once said she thought HE was gay. He left his hand on my leg as he said soothing things about how unimportant social events like balls were.
“What? Oh! DANCES, you mean!” I know I should not have been QUITE so provocative, but a little teasing can be FUN, don't you think? I turned toward him and his hand slipped onto my inner thigh. He quickly drew it away.
“Sorry,” he said looking straight ahead. Inspiration struck. So I patted his leg and told him not to think a thing of it. I left my hand lingering and looked in his direction, watching him squirm.
“Why don't we stop at my place and get a bigger car? I'm worried your dress will blow off the roof or something.” I felt the pull of his trousers as they responded to his growing erection.
“Or … we could just DRIVE AROUND a little,” I proposed.
Personally, I had had enough excitement and didn't feel like doing any GRANDS JETÉS in some strange BEDROOM. He didn't object as I unzipped him and I got to hone a skill that I might need with that troublesome history professor. From the noises Fairfax made and his erratic driving, I'm prepared to say Royal Eustis gave me good advice on how to give a proper blow job.
I wasn't prepared for the mouthful, however. I spit most of it out. Fairfax was helpful and offered me his flask when I came up. Straight bourbon was SUCH a soothing relief after all that … icky stuff.
“LUNA! Pull yourself together!” I practically had to drag her into the ladies lounge.
“I thought you weren't talking to me since I deflowered your son,” she slurred.
“Somebody had to. Now get in here. You're a sight!”
“And a sound!” Renee La Gerbille commented with a chuckle as she left. “Thankfully, your Willis is taking Victoria home, Marlee.”
“The hell he is!” I couldn't stand for that - Willis inserting his newly libidinous self into … well, if not strictly into Victoria, then into the scandal of the season.
“Lighten up, Marlee,” Luna commented as she bent over the sink.
“You,” I said in my take charge mode, “Hang that dress up before you're sick all over it. “I'll be back.”
And I was, right back, that is, after dealing with the treacherous Victoria. As a little girl, her dolls had only the briefest of lives with all their arms and legs. I didn't need to have Willis turn up missing anything. Fairfax, a safe choice if there ever was one, would take her home and Willis would remain at the dance, going no where with no one. The thing was, and it was a little disappointing, Willis didn't seem to resent my command. All he said to me was, “Vicky's gonna have a time of it fitting that hoop skirt into Fairfax's little car.”
Well, that may be true, but if the little minx has been fucking Mike, she's dealt with a whole lot more than fitting a big dress into a little Porsche. Naturally I didn't share this thought with Willis. “Mind your business, Willis. Go talk to that sweet girl in the pink dress. She's all alone. I believe she's visiting from Richmond.”
I returned to the scene of Luna retching into a toilet bowl. “How could you have gotten yourself into this state? It's not even nine o'clock.”
“I had a few with Smith before I left home. I actually tried to talk him into coming. And he almost agreed, except he hates costumes. And then I needed a few drinks to get up my courage to come here alone; but being on the committee and all, I had to ...” She was interrupted by the sudden reappearance of her lunch. I had to sympathize; it's not easy being fifty-something and alone. Taking her head out of the toilet bowl, she croaked, “Those Long Island iced teas go down so easily.”
“Perhaps you should try pills. My doctor has prescribed a diet pill that keeps me going all day.”
“Sweetie, YOUR doctor would prescribe anything you had the money for.”
“Well, at least you're feeling well enough to rip down poor Doctor Malmsey.”
“He's not poor and that's not his name,” she commented as she pulled her dress over her head. Getting herself back together, she became as serious as her degree of inebriation would permit. “Marlee, thank you for standing by me through this little ordeal. I don't know how I'm going to face people. Could you look and see if the carpenter is still out there?”
“Blessedly, he left, Luna. You may have said it wrong, but you were right about it being a mistake for him to come here. There must be a half-dozen women out there glad he's gone. You know he's messing with that Yolanda Hamilton person lately.”
“That's not HER name either. Did you know she's from some place in New York?” She said “New York” as if the idea alone might cause cancer. “And she's got Mike doing her clothes closet in cedar-infused HORSE HIDE?”
“How do you KNOW that?”
“He is a dream, though, isn't he?”
“Who?”
“Mike! Aren't you paying attention?”
“Luna, I don't think you're quite ready to face a crowd. What if we go for a little walk around the park?”
I wouldn't say we snuck out the kitchen door exactly, but we were close enough to smell the supper being prepared. From the back porch I looked back into the ballroom and saw Willis dancing with the girl in the pink dress. They were off by themselves in the shadows and his hands were … I hoped Luna wouldn't notice. Lord knows what kind of reaction that might set off.
Chapter Nineteen – Victoria
It has NEVER been my intention to cause controversy. On the other hand, putting Mrs. Smith into such distress was not the WORST calamity I could imagine. It's not as if she spilled a red drink onto my GOWN or something. And for HER to question the appropriateness of my wearing white, WELL, all that caused were smiles. We're not LIVING in the nineteenth century after all, even if we were dressed that way.
I did look a PICTURE that night, if I do say so. And Emma Perry wasn't even THERE! Then, to be flanked by TWO such HANDSOME escorts! I was truly the BELLE of the BALL, even if only briefly. But briefly, if it's memorable enough, is more than sufficient. Believe me: NOBODY is going to forget that night! And after the facts get fuzzy, all they'll remember was how FABULOUS I looked. I wore a shawl to get passed Momma, THAT'S how low cut my dress was.
I was so glad I had ridden to the ball with Momma. When Royal and Mike arrived, they could barely take their EYES off me. I will say Royal himself looked good, but MIKE! Every girl in the place was gonna envy me. He was positively BUSTIN' OUT of those coveralls. I wouldn't be surprised if every man in the place bought TWO PAIR the very next day just wishin' a LITTLE of Mike would rub off on them. He TRULY made me understand the point of the expression MORE is MORE. And it was ALL mine.
Well, not TOTALLY mine, as Luna Smith shouted out to all and sundry. He had also been partly HERS at one time, and I think everyone KNEW about my momma and that woman over near Leesburg. And Yolanda Something? I didn't even KNOW who that was.
When she made specific reference to Mike's BODY, I admit I got a little flushed. It was embarrassing, yes, but not anything SHOCKING. A well put-together young man isn't completely UNKNOWN in these parts. Then Roy got strangely protective of Mike and not ME when she said something about foot-long hot dogs. I actually thought he was going to insert HIMSELF between Luna and Mike when he should have been protecting ME! Luna just ignored Roy. It was Mike she was going after. I will say he took it like a man, the talk about his family and all. HURTFUL comments is what I would have called them, but men are different. They just LAUGH OFF that kind of thing. Luna made it sound like every man in Virginia named Pierce was out there PIERCING WOMEN for a living.
What KIND of a living could he possibly make? I wasn't paying ANYTHING.
So, EVENTUALLY Mrs. Smith wound down and Willis's momma took her AWAY. For SOME reason Mike was all upset and said he was going to leave, which more or less RUINED things for ME! A girl can't stay at a dance if she's been abandoned even by half of her escorts, especially since Mike's departure would be visible to everybody, even though everybody was trying hard not to look at us. And what was worse, Mike left immediately and ROYAL went with him, saying to ME, “You can get home, can't you?”
WELL! Talk about insulted! There I was - left ALONE at the punch bowl. I snatched up the first person I recognized.
“Willis, would you be a dear friend and take me home?” I let my hand drift down his back, stopping just below his belt line. He had a rather more attractive build than I expected. Before he could back out I quickly called over to Momma and told her, “Willis is takin' me home, Momma.” Now Willis is a decent sort, but I think he might be a little GAY and I expected to HEAR from Momma about it later. . Anyway he agreed and we walked slowly and deliberately toward the door. I let people have a GOOD LOOK at me as we crossed the dance floor, the PICTURE of happiness with Willis looking down my dress. Maybe he isn't TOTALLY gay after all. No matter. I was making a GRACEFUL exit until his MOTHER came charging out of the ladies room.
“Willis, I need you here. Your father can take Victoria home.”
“Tommy Lynn isn't here, Momma.”
“Your FATHER, not your uncle!”
Hmm. What was THAT about? How often do people forget who their fathers are?
So there I was trying to get a six-foot hoop skirt into a five-and-a-half foot Porsche. Mr. Perry tried to be helpful, but it took me to SOLVE the problem. I took the dress off. I was wearing a bodice and pantalettes; it wasn't like I was REVEALING anything. He had some bungee cords and we hooked the dress to the roof and motored away. From the way he kept eyeing me I began to wonder if perhaps I WAS revealing more than I knew. Tears came to my eyes. It was the only DEFENSE I could think of.
“There, there. It was quite a night, wasn't it?” He PATTED my LEG! And I think Momma had once said she thought HE was gay. He left his hand on my leg as he said soothing things about how unimportant social events like balls were.
“What? Oh! DANCES, you mean!” I know I should not have been QUITE so provocative, but a little teasing can be FUN, don't you think? I turned toward him and his hand slipped onto my inner thigh. He quickly drew it away.
“Sorry,” he said looking straight ahead. Inspiration struck. So I patted his leg and told him not to think a thing of it. I left my hand lingering and looked in his direction, watching him squirm.
“Why don't we stop at my place and get a bigger car? I'm worried your dress will blow off the roof or something.” I felt the pull of his trousers as they responded to his growing erection.
“Or … we could just DRIVE AROUND a little,” I proposed.
Personally, I had had enough excitement and didn't feel like doing any GRANDS JETÉS in some strange BEDROOM. He didn't object as I unzipped him and I got to hone a skill that I might need with that troublesome history professor. From the noises Fairfax made and his erratic driving, I'm prepared to say Royal Eustis gave me good advice on how to give a proper blow job.
I wasn't prepared for the mouthful, however. I spit most of it out. Fairfax was helpful and offered me his flask when I came up. Straight bourbon was SUCH a soothing relief after all that … icky stuff.
Rory,
The dual short vignettes of the old guard (pruned Vs!) getting shit-faced to the extreme and their candid discussions in the ladies' lounge, where secrets are close to completely revealed to the young (and well-lubricated over the Summer) V(ictoria) and her perspective of the situation - and the leacherous Mr. Perry, who Virginia, while not willing to permit him entry to her most intimate spot - that was reserved for Mike and Roy, afterall - was nonetheless willing to service him to the point of eruption - you could have warned her!
Meanwhile, back with Mike and Roy . . . we hope!
The dual short vignettes of the old guard (pruned Vs!) getting shit-faced to the extreme and their candid discussions in the ladies' lounge, where secrets are close to completely revealed to the young (and well-lubricated over the Summer) V(ictoria) and her perspective of the situation - and the leacherous Mr. Perry, who Virginia, while not willing to permit him entry to her most intimate spot - that was reserved for Mike and Roy, afterall - was nonetheless willing to service him to the point of eruption - you could have warned her!
Meanwhile, back with Mike and Roy . . . we hope!
Craiger
JUB Addict
Little would Marlee know that Fairfax would succumb to the likes of Victoria. Or, that she would really care..... But it is obvious that Miss Victoria is becoming a proficient sex bomb. Roy taught her well.... Delightful chapters, Rory.
Craiger
Craiger
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Rory, I'm crushed. I thought you knew me better than that. Of course the character development is important.
But, so is the Character's development.
But, so is the Character's development.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Sorry for the delay in posting the next chapter; I've been out of town. I'll try to give it a final buff up and post tomorrow.
