Authors: U
I expect Jill had some idea of how much her talk aroused me. I am
also sure she was being sincere, because she repeated it several times
over the next two days, even when we weren’t doing it.
The first shot of cum that burst from the tip of my cock nearly took
my head off, on account of the electrifying spasm that accompanied it.
The rest of my climax wasn’t as intense, just nearly so. We made
quite a bit of noise, I’m afraid.
Doing it so enjoyably that first time broke the ice between us.
Afterwards, we drank wine and ate sandwiches and listened to music.
We smoked some of Jill’s excellent dope and laughed a lot, about
people and politics, mostly.
We talked very freely about what we had been up to since she
wrote me that letter terminating our relationship.
"I also want you to know that I realize now that you weren’t taking
any pleasure in telling me about Ann Kozlowski," Jill said, as she
poured me a third glass of white wine.
"I thought you would be better off hearing it from me than from
somebody else," I answered. "I never liked Jim, but I had nothing
against his poor wife."
"The woman Jim left Ann for is a real bitch, in my opinion," Jill
said. "One of those women who doesn’t care what happens to others,
as long as she gets what she wants."
"A common type," I agreed, pinching Jill on her bare rump.
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Jill gave me a perplexed look at first, until a smile slowly spread
across her face and she laughed.
What else?
On Saturday morning, we took a shower together. Although we
had just finished doing it again before getting out of bed, by the time
we were done with our hair, I had another stiffy.
I soaped Jill’s crotch and stood behind her under the warm spray,
reaching around to rub her clit and fondle her breasts. My cock
nestled in the divide of her butt cheeks, sliding up and down, lubed by
the soap. Again and again the head passed over the wrinkle of her
anus. At one point I let it rest at center, pushing it partway in.
"Oh Patrick, what are you doing?" Jill, asked, her voice thick with
passion.
"Nothing," I answered, pushing it in a bit more.
"Ooooohhh ... Ooooohhh..."
Jill did not resist, but I pulled it out all the same, making a mental
note to fuck her anally at some point. I wondered if some other guy
has fucked her there during the time we’ve been apart. I think the
answer is maybe yes.
Well, it doesn’t matter. In the course of the weekend, Jill was
incredibly passionate, had countless orgasms, and seemed really into
it. Following our shower on Saturday morning, we lounged around
her apartment, reading the paper and listening to a blues program on
KZEL.
For breakfast, we had scrambled eggs, (which I cooked) toast with
grape jam, and coffee.
Then we got stoned, taking big bong hits and began making out
again as soon as we were high. Things seemed just like they were two
years ago when we were seeing each other, except now we both have
changed.
Jill has gotten much better and I have gotten much worse.
Jill said that I should transfer to Eugene so we could move in
together. The Feds recently made the railroads open their cushy jobs
up to women and she nabbed one. Now she works fewer hours and
makes more money than I do. She says most of the good old boy
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railroaders are lazy overpaid jerks, which I can easily believe. I have
no illusions about men.
Jill told me she has never known a man even remotely like me.
Now she wishes she had never let me go, she said. She also
apologized for getting angry when I refused to go to the nudist camp
with her and said she no longer goes there herself anymore because of
all the creeps. She wants to make amends and wants me back in her
life.
While we were sitting on the sofa, Jill did something she has never
done before. I was right next to her while we were talking and
suddenly Jill dropped down on her knees between my legs and started
sucking my cock. Immediately I got hard as a rock and felt totally
turned on.
"Let it spurt in my mouth," she told me after a while. "I want to
drink your cum."
I happily agreed to her request, greatly enjoying the way Jill took it
down as I let go. I only mention it because it surprised me. Before
that moment, Jill had always refused to let me cum in her mouth. In
the old days, she was always more than happy to have me go down on
her but never reciprocated with anything more than a perfunctory
sucking.
I think Jill is saying something by letting me cum in her mouth.
Her previous reservations about me appear to have vanished for good.
On Saturday night we went to see a movie –
Invasion of the Body
Snatchers
, at the Springfield Mall. My idea. Jill hated it because it
was so scary and barely peeked out from under her coat once or twice.
Her hand, meanwhile, was on my lap, gently groping me from time
to time. I kept telling her that the movie reminded me of DemoRat
Party politics but she paid hardly any attention.
Nevertheless, I found the new version of
Snatchers
pretty
interesting. The special effects were good and the story follows the
1950s classic closely. However, it ended on a sour note and Leonard
Nimoy was totally wasted as the psychiatrist. At best, I’d give it a B
minus.
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Jill made a dish of lasagna for our late supper that tasted quite
delicious. She said it was a variation on the recipe I gave her back in
1976. More vegetables, and only a sprinkling of Italian sausage. We
bickered mildly about how the ingredients should be arranged in the
dish. She let me win for a change.
Then came Sunday morning. We made love again right after we
woke up – a rough, sweaty workout. Felt really good when we came
at exactly the same time. I noticed that we left behind a wet spot on
her sheet about the size of Rhode Island. Jill says she is going to let a
couple days go by before she changes the linen because she likes my
scent.
"I love sleeping with you, Patrick," she said.
What have I suddenly gotten myself into?
Jill says she wants to be my slave in bed. Anything I want her to do
from now on, she wants to do. As long as I have a big cock and stay
four inches taller than she is, she says she will always obey my every
sexual whim and command, no matter how weird or kinky.
I told her I would get back to her on that. However, I must admit
that I am impressed with her new attitude.
Where was all this two years ago?
On Sunday morning, we showered together, got dressed, and
enjoyed a tasty hot breakfast. I kissed her goodbye and left for home,
but not before she extracted a promise from me that I would invite her
to the beach for a weekend visit soon.
Very soon.
I got in the VW and drove to the Koobdooga bookstore, en route to
home. That’s where I ran into Megan.
We had an extremely enigmatic conversation. Megan said she had
been by to see me at Rand’s on Friday and Saturday nights and
wondered where I had gone.
I told her where I went was my business, just like where she goes is
her business. I was really annoyed with her for finding me, although I
did my best to hide it.
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She wanted to question me some more about what I had been doing
but I cut her off and said I was going home. She stood in the spot
where I left her for a long time after I walked away.
I am playing with fire but I really don’t give a good goddamn.
Megan doesn’t know what the hell she wants. Is this the same woman
who told me less than a month ago it was over for good between us?
Who said her husband was permanently back in the picture?
Apparently she is, or was, or something like that.
Returning to Mark was a lapse, she says now, a mistake. She can’t
explain it. Well, I can explain it perfectly. She’s fickle and faithless,
just like the others. That is the explanation. First, she was all set to
leave town and dump me. Then suddenly it was no go. Now she says
oops it was all just "a lapse."
And how am I expected to deal with these lightning shifts? I am
supposed to be all happy and welcome her back like a puppy dog
because she is split with said husband once again. Sorry, no can do. I
don’t appreciate no fucking lapses.
I am not happy with Megan. I am furious with her.
The thing is, I just don’t get it. With women, if you refuse to do
what they say they want you to do, they will use that as an excuse to
reject you. On the other hand, if you comply with what they say they
want you to do, they will also use that as an excuse to reject you.
Either way you lose.
Along with that, women retain the right to change their minds at
any time and still expect you to remain at their beck and call. Am I
wrong to resent this state of affairs? I think not.
Arrived home without incident. Nick left a note saying he would
be spending the night with his new girlfriend Eleanor.
I had a light meal, a beer and a cigarette. My first Marlboro in a
week. About 7:00 PM, Mary Wong showed up. She wanted to know
if Nick needed any posters made for the poetry reading. I was sitting
on the sofa listening to B. B. King and writing some longhand notes
for
The Dark City
.
I put them away and talked with Mary for a while. People came
and went, most of them asking questions about the poetry reading
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Nick is sponsoring at the Kyle Building. Everybody wants in on the
action for some reason. It’s shaping up to be the social event of the
season around here.
Having a little time on our hands, Mary and I went upstairs and did
it. Then we came back downstairs and got really stoned. We went
back upstairs a while later and did it again.
Mary likes doing it and has a slender, very elastic little bod. Tiny
little tits but with these big, dark nipples. Between her legs she is very
tight and gets very wet. Practically hairless, though. Took a bit of
getting used to after Jill’s dense brown bush. At first Mary was afraid
I was going to be too big for her pussy but once we got rolling, my
size was not a problem.
The last time we did it was around 5:00 AM. I told her I was too
tired to cum but she insisted on sucking my cock and got it out of me
anyway. Mary is very adept at oral sex, much more so than Jill at this
point.
I liked the way Mary sucked it, bent over on her hands and knees in
front of me. She took it all the way down, deep throat style, gently
cupping my balls in her hands. When I came, she hung on to the head
with her teeth while she sucked like mad, and swallowed. Excellent
technique.
Before she left, I gave Mary my old typewriter, the black
Remington. Mary is very poor. The machine was given to me four
years ago as a present from the woman I now call the other one. I had
it tuned up in Portland in 1977 and now it works like a charm. Bam
bam bam.
The print is clear, crisp, and dark when it has a fresh ribbon, which
it has right now.
I remember the typewriter repair guy offered me $35 for it. He told
me it was an antique. I turned him down. That was when I still had
hopes about getting back together with the other one. Now I can’t
stand looking at it and prefer using my newer Olivetti.
Nick is going to be pissed because he’s had his eye on it for some
time but that’s too bad. It’s my goddamn typewriter and I’ll do
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whatever I fucking well please with it. Last August, I almost pitched
it in the Siuslaw River.
Back to work tomorrow. I didn’t go in today because the state
celebrates the birthday of Abraham Lincoln. Good old Honest Abe.
They don’t make politicians like him anymore.
I have to be around Megan all day tomorrow, goddammit. I know I
am in love with her but I question whether she is in love with me.
The way I see it, I am likely one of those transitional romances
women go through when they exit a long-term relationship. That’s
not good enough for me because I am serious. And I absolutely refuse
to play the fool again.
Meanwhile, it is extremely unfair of me to be seeing Jill, because
we have no future together. As far as I am concerned, she has taken
herself out of the running permanently. Although I tried to talk her
out of it, she went ahead and had a tubal ligation and is therefore