Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Silicon Valley Tales from the imagination of California Dreamer (C) 2001,
all rights retained.

   Critiques invited and responded to. califdrmr@hotmail.com

   Moira and friends A Small Deviation from the Theme.

   <I>"The fascinating depth and complexity of the human
condition."</I><br>Anon.



   "Hey, buddy.  Would you mind babysitting Paul for us.  We want to go up
to The City Saturday night next week for dinner and a play." Dave sounded a
little rushed.

   "I'll check with Moira and let you know."

   "I already talked with her and she said it was up to you."

   "S'okay by me, pal."

   "Great, thanks.  We plan to stay at the Mark 'cause we'll be checking
out the bars after the play.  We'll collect Paul Sunday, late morning."

   "Gotcha.  Why don't you bring Paul over about noon Saturday.  We're
going to visit the mummies at the Rosicrucian Museum that afternoon.  Aly's
got an Egyptian thing going."

   "I'll let you know tonight or tomorrow morning."

   "Cool, man."

   Dave hung up and I pressed the button to dial Moira's number.

   "AMD.  Moira O'Rourk."

   "Hi, sweetheart.  How's your day going?"

   "Hi, lover.  It's a finer day now that I've heard your voice."

   "Lay it on thick, dear one.  I love it."

   I interrupted her pleasant chuckle with, "Dave just called about us
keeping Paul over night next weekend and I thought he might enjoy the
Rosicrucian Museum too.  What do you think?"

   "Good idea, lover mine.  The kids can keep each other company while we
sit and talk.  I've been thinking about something that I want to share with
you."

   "Shall I come over tonight?  I know we hadn't planned it but I haven't
seen you for three whole days and..."

   "I know you miss me.  I miss you too but I've been taking work home all
week and it's about finished so let's wait 'til the weekend.  Okay?"

   "Sure.  How about we take Aly to a matinee this Saturday then have
dinner in Japan Town?"

   "J Town?  Fine idea.  See you Saturday."

   I called Dave back and left a message for him to call me then returned
to find the beast on my desk had crashed.  I toggled in the boot code and
tapped the go button.  The day disappeared in a swirling mist of octal
op-codes.

   Later that afternoon Dave came into my office and released me to the
reality of the Carbon based world.

   "Wanna coffee?" His voice sounded tired and his face was not pleasant to
look at.

   "Sure.  You look stressed.  What's happening?"

   I stood up and headed for the lunch room.

   He followed me through the hallways saying, "The yields have slipped to
55 percent on one of my products.  My manager is telling me that I should
have found the problem months ago." He sighed and grimaced.  "I wouldn't
mind the pressure but this Germanium product line is so old I know they'll
drop it by the end of the year.  Let's talk about something else.  Like our
women.  That's what I came over here for."

   As we turned into the lunch room, I could see that the coffee pot was
empty.

   "Shit, the pots empty, let's take some cokes outside." I grabbed a
Lemon/Lime for me and a Cola for Dave from the fridge.  We went out the
side door into the shady east parking lot.  I handed him his bottle and he
popped the top using the middle door hinge.  I did the same and leaned
against the concrete wall and drank deeply.

   "How are you getting along with Moira?"

   "Really well but her daughter's giving me some fish eye still."

   "Paul's getting friendlier since I got him a Pong game and showed him
how to hook it up to their TV.  Maybe you can try the same."

   "Well, maybe.  I hope the museum excursion will lighten her up.  I
bought an Egyptian history book for her and she seemed to like that.  She
got a little friendlier when we talked about how many women rulers Egypt
had in the days of the Pharaohs."

   "She's going to be as pretty as her momma when she grows up."

   "Yeah, she will.  I think she's beautiful now.  I hope the cold weather
she's been giving me blows away.  We met under strange circumstances." I
gave him a brief synopsis.

   "Whacked you with her doll?  That's a tiger you're up against."

   We both laughed for a moment.

   "I hope Paul never peeks in on us.  He'd have a completely different
opinion of his mother if he did."

   "Yeah, why?"

   "I heard Kerry telling him that 'Potty Mouth' was not acceptable
behavior.  He'd learn a few new potty mouth words if he heard her in bed."

   I grinned at him.  "Kerry talks dirty in bed?"

   "Does she ever!  It turns me on so much sometimes I have to, ah...  Cool
it or lose it."

   "Moira's a bit inhibited that way but that's about the only way now. 
Except she is sort of reluctant to let me do her butt.  Some pecker neck
tried to take her by surprise and hurt her so I'm in no rush.

   "Kerry told me I can do anything I want to her."

   "Do you think maybe she likes you or what?" I grinned at him.

   "I think she's going to be full blown 'In Love' soon.  She said she'd
never had a better lover or a nicer guy for a boy friend."

   "I think you're very lucky, my friend.  I like everything about Kerry
including her zaftig body.  If Moira ever dumped me, watch out." I grinned
to let him know I wasn't serious.

   Dave looked at me speculatively.  "Do you think we could set up a four
way soon?"

   That caught me by surprise.  Well, sort of.  I hadn't thought about
sharing my woman.  Even though the three of us had gone "under the
boardwalk" a few weeks prior.

   "Our ladies may not be that adventurous.  Well, Moira might not be."

   "Are you sure?  She didn't hesitate when Kerry asked her if you could
come with us."

   "Yeah, but I've never mentioned what we did.  She probably thinks that I
just indulged my voyeur streak."

   "Bullshit.  How could she have missed your happy face afterwards.  Give
her credit.  I noticed that your voice pitch drops an octave after you've
had a good come.  She probably has too."

   "Okay, okay.  I'll sound her out, you turd.  Isn't Kerry enough for you,
horn dog?  You've gotta have my woman too?"

   Dave started laughing.  He bent at the waist and sloshed cola into the
air.  I dodged the spray and spilled mine down the front of my dark slacks.


   "Come on, let's go sit in the sun so this can dry."

   "Nah, I've got to go check my last yield adjustment.  The wafer probe
line should be about finished testing the latest run and I need to get the
red dot counts.  Go rinse your slacks."

   "All right.  See you later."

   I went into the restroom to rinse and dry my slacks with the hot air
hand dryer.  One of the draftsmen came in and made a rude remark about my
knobby knees which I ignored.

   I was thinking about Aly.  I remembered how she looked and acted at the
beach.  Long slim legs, tight little girl bubble butt and a flat belly. 
Much like her mother but with auburn hair and blue eyes.  She'd played in
the water as gracefully as a sea otter even with the life jacket slowing
her down.

   She had built a sand castle with Paul while Moira watched them.  They
seemed to get along together without friction.  Two bright lively children
about to start the hormonal phase of their lives.  I sighed, not envying
either one of them if their bodies did to them what mine had done to me. 
If an older neighbor boy hadn't noticed the tent in my pants one day I'd
never have figured out how to masturbate by myself.  I wondered how Paul
would discover the secret pleasures of Onan.

   Saturday morning I woke up late.  I wobbled to the shower and scrubbed
the taste of last night's beer from my mouth.  I was in a good mood and
looking forward to a day with Moira and Aly.  But my little one bedroom
apartment needed some attention first.  As soon as two cups of coffee and
the San Francisco Chronicle had kick-started my brain cells back to life.
Started with Peanuts and worked my way up to Herb Caen's column.  Or down.
Whatever.

   "Someday I'll understand what he's talking about," I said to myself.

   Then "The Fearless Spectator" for dessert.  He, I thought I understood
except for his occasional references to "Green Death" as he called Rainier
Ale.

   "Have to check that brew out someday," I said aloud.

   Cleaning time.  I vacuumed the rugs then took the week high stack of
newspapers to the laundry room, adding them to the three foot high pile.

   "I'll take them to the Boy Scout paper bin on my way to Moira's today,"
I promised.

   "Or maybe tomorrow."

   Laundry time.  Grabbing a couple of quarters, I took two loads to the
laundry room.  Returning to my apartment I saw the next door neighbor in
her doorway.  She gave me a wave and a big smile.

   "Can I ask a favor, Rich?"

   "Sure, Carol.  Any time." This forty something, mousey haired woman had
always given me sweet inviting smiles which I'd ignored.  She didn't have
much garlic in her sauce in my humble opinion.  She was a trim woman with
full hips but I'd never felt the urge despite her large smile pleasantries.

   "Tomorrow I'm going to buy a new mattress and could use your help
getting it up the stairs.  Would you mind?" She smiled sweetly.

   "Not at all, I'll be home about three or so.  I can lend you a strong
back then."

   "Thanks, Rich.  You are such a dear man." Her high beam smile bathed me
and I responded with a quick low beam.

   The morning went quickly after that.  Changed the sheets.  Grabbed three
more quarters and carried the white ball of sheets down to the laundry room
and stuffed them into a washer.  Transferred the contents of the other two
into dryers and went back upstairs.  Time for a beer.  Hard work has its
rewards.  As I was reaching into the 'fridge the phone rang.  It was Moira.

   "Hi, sweetest one.  Will you be joining us for lunch?"

   "Love to, my little heart throb."

   "Hyperglycemia!  Aren't we sick?"

   I laughed out loud into the phone and heard her do the same.

   "Okay, I admit it.  We're sick and the only cure is more sex."

   "Oh, a bitter pill.  But where can we go for more sex."

   "Where do we go and who do we ask to help?"

   "You are a naughty, naughty man, Richard Peters."

   "And that's why you love me?" I fished.

   "I don't love you as much as I love that beautiful cock of yours.  Oops!
Hang on a sec."

   I heard her muffled voice for more than a few seconds then she came
back.

   "Sorry.  Aly heard me say that and she went into "Momma!" mode.  I had
to say 'sorries'."

   "She can't be too shocked at her mother's sexuality.  Not after what she
saw us doing on your bedroom floor."

   "Maybe but that scene cost me about two hours of 'splaining the facts of
life," she said in a wry voice.

   "Birds and Bees?"

   "Hell, no.  She didn't want to hear about pollination.  She wanted to
know about insemination.  In great detail."

   "Maybe next Saturday night we can give her and Paul some privacy."

   "You're not serious?" She snorted.

   I didn't say anything.

   "You are serious?"

   "Sweetest woman I've ever met other than my mother, how old were you
when you played 'Show me yours', et cetera?"

   "Point for you.  It is one of the tingly parts of growing up, isn't it."

   "Was for me.  Still is."

   Her laughter was musical.

   "You seem to want to do more than look, dirty old man you."

   "You'll be right about that someday.  I am working on it."

   "Okay, lover man.  Let's continue this later today.  I'll expect you for
lunch.  Be here at high noon."

   "That's good.  Shall I bring anything, love of my life?"

   After a moments silence, I heard her whisper.

   "Rich, why did you say that?"

   "What?  Do you need anything from the store or not?"

   "You don't need to." Click.

   I hung up and headed for the laundry.  Couldn't help whistling while I
worked.

   At high noon I knocked on Moira's door.

   "Who's there?" a muffled voice asked shortly.

   "Aly?  Is that you?  It's Rich."

   "Go away."

   "What?  Aly, what's wrong?"

   Silence.

   "What's wrong, Aly?"

   "You made my mommy cry.  I don't like you.  Go away!"

   I tried to twist the door knob but it was locked.

   "Aly, go get your mother.  Tell her I'm here."

   "No.  Go away.  I'll call the police if you don't."

   "Where's your mother?"

   "In the bedroom, crying."

   I sprinted around to Moira's bedroom window.  It was open just a crack
and through the screen I could see her curled on the bed.

   "Moira, are you okay?  Why are you crying, honey?"

   "Rich?"

   "Yes, it's me.  Let me in, sweety."

   "I don't want to see you right now, Rich.  And don't call me that."

   "Tell me what's wrong.  What happened after you hung up?"

   "Please go away.  Look, I'll call you later.  Okay?  Leave me alone for
a while."

   I went back to my apartment and waited.  And moped.  Drank a tasteless
beer.  Drank another and considered walking to the liqueur store for a
fifth of brandy.  At six o'clock I called her number.  No answer.  I
replayed our morning conversation for the hundredth time to see if I'd said
anything that would hurt her.  Nothing.

   Late the next morning I woke up on the couch, a half empty brandy bottle
on the floor.  My head hurt, my back hurt and my heart felt dead over the
tension in my gut.  Two aspirin and two coffees later I decided to retrieve
my Sunday Chron.  As I approached the door I saw there was an envelope
sticking partway through the brass mail slot.  I stopped and stared at it,
dreading what might be in it.  I grabbed the envelope and retrieved the
Sunday Chron.

   "What's the worst thing that it could be?" I asked myself out loud.

   I pondered the question.  "Ponder.  Ponderous.  Ponderosa," I intoned,
my brain in a whirl.

   "Lighten up jerk, 'cause what ever is happening with her you will fix.
Right?  Right!" I told myself.

   I smacked the table top with my open hand.  It stung my palm and made my
head throb.

   I tore open the envelope and began to read.



   <BLOCKQUOTE>Dear Richard

   I'm going to be blunt.  I'm feeling manipulated and I don't like it.



   You can be very sweet and charming and I like that in you but I don't

   really know much about you beyond that.  Except that you are very
sexual.

   I know that for sure.  I feel that you have drawn out my sexuality past
a

   point where I'd been comfortable in the past.  That's good I guess but a
bit

   scary for me.  I grew up hearing that only 'bad girls' liked sex.  I
know that's

   stupid but that's where I came from.  It's not where I am now, though.
You've

   let me enjoy my sexuality somehow.  That's something I've never
experienced

   before.  My husband was furtive and not very demanding.  He didn't want
sex

   very often nor was he very creative, adventurous or exciting.  I'd
accepted

   my mother's comment that sex was something women permitted their
husbands

   even if it wasn't enjoyable.  My next and only other lover was
considerably

   older and mainly just wanted my company.  I felt like he was giving me
sex

   because that's what he thought I wanted.  Our relationship was based on
a

   mutually enjoyable companionship and sex was not a significant element
for

   either one of us.



   You've told me you love me and I'm okay with that but calling me the

   'Love of your life' is too much.  I'm not 'in' love with you but I do

   love you for what you give me and what I feel you are.  These last weeks

   have been so good.  I enjoyed your company and having sex with you.  No,
that

   was earlier in our relationship.  Last week we started making love.

   You treated me so tenderly.  I never expected that from a man.  It wont
take

   much more and I might find myself 'in' love with you.



   Being 'in' love with you scares me.  I am an independent, successful
professional

   but if I fall for you I fear I'll lose my independence.  I'll need you
because

   of my love for you.  Then you'll meet some 'chippie' and waltz away to

   another sexual adventure leaving me feeling like discarded trash.  Your

   romp under the boardwalk convinces me of this.  You said you loved me
but

   casually went off with Dave and Kerry.  I might say more about this
later

   but only after I've thought about it some.



   So I'd like for you to leave me alone for a few days so I can settle my
feelings.

   I still want to be with you but you must stop trying to jerk my heart
strings.

   I want to continue our relationship only until one of us feels the need
to

   break it off.  In other words, stop trying to manipulate me into
dependance.

   Let's just enjoy each others company as friends and lovers.



   Love

   M



   PS.  Aly is very confused about our relationship so I gave her this
letter

   to read.  I think she should sit in when we discuss what happens
next.</BLOCKQUOTE>





   I reread the letter.  Then read it again, slowly.  "What to do?" I asked
myself.  I went to the bathroom and reread the last sentence of the third
paragraph while pissing.

   "It wont take much more and I might find myself 'in' love with you."

   "Ah yes, Dicky boy, you know what to do." I talked to my reflection in
the mirror while rinsing my hands.

   "Major changes coming soon, Dicky boy.  You've really done yourself up
good here, haven't you?  You've tripped over a woman that makes you so
aware of stuff you never noticed before.  You are in such deep doo doo. 
Chippies, indeed."

   I wrote a short letter.  Just two incomplete sentences signed "I do love
you."

   I drove to her house and parked around the corner.  I walked to her door
and slid my letter under it then scurried quietly away.

   Time to go shopping so I drove to the Bascom Ave Safeway and bought
food. Beer, chips, oatmeal, raisins and milk.  A few chicken pot pies and
my larder was almost restocked.  The soup aisle yielded several cans of
Cream of Mushroom soup and many more of Chicken Noodle.  My sense of
bachelor hood reaffirmed, I checked out and took it all home.

   Carol was pulling into her parking space with a mattress roped to the
top of her Volvo station wagon.  I jumped out and walked around to the
passenger door and started putting the three brown paper bags on my car
roof.  Carol waved and called out, "Can I help with one of those?"

   "Sure.  Appreciate it." I gave her a big smile.

   I handed one bag to her and up the stairs we went.  She lead the way and
I stared at her full ass cheeks clenching and unclenching as she climbed.
"Nice butt.  I'll bet her boy friend is an ass man." I thought.

   "Stop ogling my butt, Richard.  You're embarrassing me," she admonished
with a soft laugh.

   "Not ogling, admiring," I admitted in a hopefully honest tone.

   She laughed and gave me an inviting look over her shoulder.  At my door
I handed her a bag, dug my keys out and unlocked the lock.  I pushed the
door open, retrieved the bag from her and nodded her to proceed me.  She
scanned the living room and focused on the bottle sitting on the coffee
table.

   "Party last night?"

   "I wish." I didn't elaborate, she didn't comment.  She followed me into
the kitchen and slid her bag onto the counter.

   "You keep your place rather neat for a bachelor.  I like that."

   I smiled thanks.  "You just caught me in the neat part of my cleaning
cycle.  Come back in a few days and it'll look very lived in.  Shall we
bring up your mattress?"

   "Sure.  I'll go open my door first," she said and moved towards the
door.

   "Meet you downstairs." She waved over her shoulder.

   When she joined me at her car she waved a pair of scissors and started
snipping the hemp twine holding the mattress tight to the car roof.  I was
attacking my side with finger nail clippers.  Soon we were groaning up the
stairs with the unruly mattress flopping between us.  I hate carrying
mattresses.  They make me feel like a weakling.

   After maneuvering through two doorways especially designed to thwart
mattress movers, we were in the bedroom.  I saw that her old mattress was
leaning against the wall.  We dropped the new mattress into place and both
panting heavily, laughed at each others apparent fatigue.

   "The store will deliver the box springs next week and will take away the
old stuff so you wont have to do this again," Carol panted.

   "Thank god," I panted back.

   "I have a new German beer in the 'fridge.  Let me reward your hard work.
Go open a couple of frosty ones for us.  I want to change my clothes then
I'll join you."

   "Sure.  I've never had German beer."

   I went and found six green bottles lying in state on the bottom rack of
her fridge.  After rummaging for a bit I found a bottle opener and popped
two open.  The first long draw was delicious and refreshingly cold.  I took
them into Carol's living room and flopped onto her couch.  I took another
swig and put one bottle on the glass coffee table.

   "This beer has a great flavor, Carol," I called out to her.

   "It's become my favorite even if it costs twice as much as domestic,"
she answered as she came through her bedroom door.  She was barefoot and
wearing a short yukata, a Japanese cotton summer kimono.  A bright colorful
cherry blossom print.  The pink blossoms bloomed her skin.

   "Wow, that's nice," I exclaimed.

   "Thank you.  I bought several my last trip.  I just love the way they
feel against my skin."

   She moved directly toward me and quickly flat backed to pick up her
beer. I glimpsed small breasts with large brown nipples.  She bent her
knees and squatted upright directly in front of me, flashing momentarily
her downy looking bush.

   "Carol, you are a dancer."

   She nodded her head and gave me a toothy smile.

   "It's been a few years." She gazed steadily at me, her eyes slightly
squinted.  She was chewing her bottom lip gently.  She seemed to be
thinking hard about something.  After a long moment her face relaxed and
she gave me a wink and said softly, "Will you do my ass?"

   I gawked at her in disbelief and said with some eloquence, "Awk?"

   "May I take that for a yes?" she smirked.

   Then she laughed, at the expression on my face, I'm sure.  I could feel
my face burn.

   "Carol, I'm, um, sorta involved...  with someone."

   "I know but you've not been gone at night for over a week and you got
drunk last night.  That makes me think you've had a little falling out with
her.

   I just gaped at her, speechless.

   "It doesn't matter.  You look very qualified for my needs.  I'd love to
suck you up first if you'd like," her soft dulcet voice intoned.  She
raised her eyebrows.  "You can come in my mouth.  Have you ever had a woman
suck you until you squirt down her throat.  I love the taste of boy cum,"
she said lasciviously.

   I felt my crotch heat up as my dick filled with blood.

   "Oh my god.  Carol, what are you...  Why are you doing this to me.  I've
never..." I lied.  She must have mistaken my reserve with her for shyness
so I decided to play along and be her young inexperienced boy toy.

   The thought of fucking her shit hole while holding onto her broad butt
put zingers down to my toes.  My dick swelled a bit more in my now too
tight pants.

   "Let's go to the bedroom, lover boy," she chortled.  She knew she had
me.

   I stood and hesitated to give her time to admire the bulge in my pants.
She spun and pranced a few steps before flipping the back of her kimono up
to show me a beautifully shaped broad butt.  I gawked admiringly while she
grinned over her shoulder at me.

   "Come on, lover toy.  I've got a ride for you you'll never forget."

   Where did the mousey little woman go?  I thought as I followed her.

   "Put your beer down and strip for me.  Hurry, I want to see what you're
packing."

   I put my forgotten beer bottle on a dresser and started pulling my shirt
over my head.  Kicking my loafers off while I undid the top button on my
old jeans, I started undoing the buttons one by one.  She stared at my
crotch and licked her lips.

   "Let me do the rest.  Come here." She motioned for me to stand in front
of her.  I complied.

   She pulled my jeans wide, hard enough for the buttons to pop free.  Then
she reached to my hip bones and stripped jeans and briefs to my knees.  My
dick stuck straight out at her.  An expression of lust and hunger
transformed her face.

   "Oh, gawd.  Suck me, please," I whined.  I was humping my hips blindly,
trying to find anything warm and wet to sink into.  She grabbed it and held
it to the side.  One finger curled gently under my purple glans putting a
big zinger down my spine.  I reached for her head with both hands but she
dodged away.

   "Don't hold my head.  I don't like that.  And it's not polite."

   "Okay, okay.  Let me put it in your mouth.  Hurry, I've never...before,"
I lied.

   "Little boy really wants momma to put his nasty dick in her mouth,
doesn't he?"

   I was tempted to shout, "just open your fucking mouth!" But I didn't
want to drop out of the character she'd chosen for me.  Yet.

   "My little boy getting hot?  You gonna squirt real soon?"

   She pinched my deep purple pecker head causing me to yelp.  "Ow!  Don't!
Please, Carol.  I wont come too fast." Not after that pinch I wouldn't.

   She licked her lips and leaned forward, wiping just the tip of my dick
across her slightly pursed wet lips.

   "Weoo, little boy.  Where'd you get such a nice fat long schlong?"

   "From the Dick Fairy, dammit.  Now suck my dick, bitch." I growled with
so much power in my voice that I shocked myself.

   Her head popped up and her jaw popped down so I stuck it to her.  I put
one hand behind her head and shoved my hips forward hard.  She took about
five inches before she started to squeal through her nose.  I pushed
another inch and felt her throat muscles flutter.  Fearing she'd bite I
yanked my hips back fast.  The shocked look on her face made me laugh.

   "Momma likes her not so little boy's dick down her throat doesn't she?"

   She nodded and opened her mouth a tiny fraction more.  Her face changed
from shock to pleading.

   "So, you want a mouthful of 'sweet boy come', bitch?"

   She nodded and whimpered.  Her hands flew to her sash and pulled her
yukata open and off.  Her chest was flushed red.  Bright red.  I reached
behind her head and grabbed a handful of hair and pulled her toward me.

   "Jack it and suck!  Now!" I half shouted.  My dander was up, I was
riding a wave of anger.

   She wrapped one hand around my dick and sucked it down.  Her other hand
flew to her crotch and started whipsawing up and down her cunt.  I gave her
a moment then slapped her arm away.

   "Stop that.  You can't come until I tell you to!"

   She came.  Not hard but not that small.  I bent and pinched her fat
nipples.  I jerked them out and away from her body.  She came again,
moaning around my dick.  I pinched harder just to see what would happen. 
She started twisting her body back and forth, intensifying the pull on her
nips.  She had so much dick down her throat that there wasn't anything left
to jack.  I started fucking her face but I'd lost my lust and was just cold
cocking her.  I thrust hard and felt her nose mash against my belly.  I
held her until she started to thrash and push at my hips.  She strained to
get me out of her throat so she could breath.  I starting pulling out but
took my sweet time.  Her mouth was wide open and trying to suck air but she
wasn't getting any.

   A wave of pity for her and anger at myself flooded through me.  I'd had
a sudden flash of Moira's presence.  I yanked my wilting dick out of her
mouth and she got one lung full of air before she started to retch.  I
jumped back but it was only dry heaves.  Nothing came up.  After a moment
she moaned and flopped over on her side.  I could hear soft sobs.

   "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry, Carol.  I shouldn't have done that." I knelt and
stroked baby fine hair.  Her sobbing continued behind a clenched fist.

   "I'm sorry.  Really, really sorry I did that.  It wasn't you.  I was
angry with my girl friend and took it out on you when you pissed me off."
The sobbing abated slowly.

   I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and leaned down and started kissing
her cheek bone and temple.

   "Please don't cry anymore," I whispered, feeling pretty lame.

   She snuffled quietly for a moment before drawing a deep breath.  She let
it out slowly and peered at me through reddened eyes.  I held a tissue box
in front of her face and she popped several free and smeared them across
her eye lids.  I took one and wiped a small drool of grey snot from her
upper lip.

   "Thanks," she whispered.

   "I'm very sorry I hurt you," I said with the most sincerity I could
muster.

   She gave me a long blank look and shook her head.  Blinking one long,
slow blink she said softly, "You didn't hurt me." She shook her head back
and forth.  "No, you didn't hurt me.  I liked it.  I came twice and I
rarely come without my vibrator.  You needn't feel bad."

   "Why were you crying then?" I asked in amazement.

   "Because I'll never experience anything this intense again.  After this
it'll just be play acting.  It wont be real."

   "I see your point." I paused for a moment, thinking.

   "I wish I'd followed your game plan, Carol." I hesitated a moment.  "I
was looking forward to fucking your 'work of art' ass."

   She gave me a strange thoughtful look then said, "You can still have it
if you want but to tell you the truth I'd really like to have you in my..."
She hesitated a moment.  "In my pussy first.  I only let my subs do my ass
'cause I'd say they weren't good enough to have any pussy.  They were only
good enough for the shit hole 'cause that's what they were, shit holes."

   I stood and pulled my shorts up before yanking my jeans up and buttoning
up.  I remembered the beer and grabbed it.  My mouth was strangely dry so I
took long pull.  The beer had warmed a bit but still tasted good.

   "Can I have some?" Carol asked, sitting up.

   I handed her the bottle and sat down beside her on the bare mattress
while she chugged.

   "Stand up," I told her.  She complied and I swept the yukata aside to
show a big wet stain on the new mattress.  I looked up at her.

   "Looks like you'll have a little reminder."

   "Um, it's okay.  I'll clean it later."

   I threw the yukata at her and she snagged it one handed.

   "Let's go to my place now, Carol."

   I went to her 'fridge and grabbed the remaining four green bottles and
returned to the living room.  She was waiting for me, a beer in each hand.
We walked to my apartment, went in and I directed her to the couch.  After
putting the beer in my 'fridge I went and sat with her.  She handed me the
full beer bottle and sipped quickly from hers.  I just looked at her. 
After a moment she squirmed uncomfortably.

   "What are you thinking?" she asked.

   I didn't answer so she squirmed a bit more.

   "Why did you tell me to come over here?"

   "Change of scene.  You've never been in my apartment and I'm hoping
you'll feel less secure."

   She gave me a quizzical look.

   "I want to see more of you."

   Her hands moved quickly to the sash knot and pulled it free.

   Before she could expose herself I yelled, "Stop."

   She froze.

   "Tie your sash."

   She did.

   "What do you want from me?"

   "Not quite sure yet."

   She nodded and brought her beer to her lips and tilting her head back,
drained it.  Her eyes didn't leave mine.

   "Want another?"

   "No.  I have to pee."

   "You know where it is."

   She stood and on the balls of her feet only, moved daintily, gracefully
towards the bathroom door.

   "Stop.  Come here."

   She did as I said stopping just arms length away.

   "Take it off."

   She dropped the yukata and stood naked before me.

   "Walk like that again.  To the bathroom."

   She came up on her toes and pirouetted.  She moved slowly forward, only
the balls of her feet touching the rug.  I watched her wide hips rolling
gently, side to side.  She opened the bathroom door and hesitated.  I
didn't say anything.  After a moment, she continued into the bathroom
shutting the door carefully.

   I went into the bedroom and pulled a four by six foot Naugahyde covered
plywood panel from behind my dresser.  I slid it to the bed and flopped it
centered on the bed spread.

   From my closet I retrieved a stick easel which I leaned against the wall
next to the entrance doorway.  From under the bed came a two by three foot
sketch pad which I clamped to the easel's top rail.  I opened a gold
painted tin box from the dresser top and took out a charcoal drawing stick
and waited for Carol to find me.

   She soon did, peeping carefully around the door frame into my bedroom.

   "Get on the bed."

   Still on her toes she moved across the room, her eyes finding the
charcoal.  As she approached the bed I said, "Lie on your right side facing
away from me.  She crawled onto the plywood and dropped onto her side.

   "Point your right leg straight down and point your toes.  Bend your
right arm up and rest the back of your head in the palm of your hand.  Pull
your left knee up to your chest."

   "Good.  Now put your left arm straight behind you.  Try to put your left
palm on the panel as high up as you can manage.  I want to see your sweet
ass in silhouette."

   "Perfect.  Don't move."

   I began to sketch and had gotten a half dozen lines on the thin paper
when the door bell chimed.

   "Shit.  Don't move.  I'll get rid of 'em."

   I strode purposely to the front door wondering who in hell, fully
intending on being rude and abrupt.  I yanked open the door and a
blubbering Moira launched herself into my arms.

   "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.  Please forgive..."

   I silenced her with the palm of my hand.  She looked into my face with
begging eyes.

   "You knew just what to say, didn't you?" she mumbled against my hand.

   "There's nothing to forgive, but..."

   She twisted her face away from my hand.  "You said you weren't thinking
and the words came directly from your heart.  That's what your cryptic
message means?"

   "Yes, but..."

   "But?"

   "Yeah.  But there's a nude woman on my bed."

   A horrified glare started to build on her face.  "There's a naked woman
in your bed?" she almost shrieked.

   I shook my head.  "Nude not naked.  On not in.  There's a big
difference."

   "Fuck your semantics.  Fuck you, too." She struggled to escape my hug,
pushing against my shoulders and chest.

   "You didn't trust me yesterday and what happened?"

   She stopped struggling and stared at my chest before looking up and
forcing a smile.  She rubbed her lips in and out as if smoothing lipstick.
She swallowed hard and said in syrupy sweet voice, "Show me a 'nude' woman
'on' your bed."

   "With pleasure," I intoned adding considerable Karo of my own.

   I took her hand and led her to the bedroom doorway, stopping just
outside so she could only see my sparse sketch.  She looked at it as if it
were an alien artifact for a second then at my face.  Then back to the
sketch.  "Is that the nude...?"

   She turned and tried to grab my shirt front but I stopped her by
grabbing her shoulder.

   "Look inside."

   She stepped forward three paces and froze, both hands coming up to her
face as if to shield her eyes from some horrific sight.  She didn't move
for almost five seconds.  Then she turned and quickly scanned the sketch.
With a glance at the bed she turned to me trying to block a smile.

   "I'm looking forward to seeing the finished work, Richard.  Got any
beer?" She let her smile blossom fully as she brushed past me.

   "Try a green one, Moira." I thought I heard a snort.

   I moved to the foot of the bed and looked down at Carol.

   "Are you uncomfortable?  It's too bad if you are."

   She didn't change her blank expression.

   "You are doing very, very well, Carol.  I'll be done soon."

   Her expression changed ever so slightly as she reacted to my patronizing
tone.

   "You are not to respond if Moira speaks to you." I didn't bother waiting
for an answer.

   I pulled a new charcoal stick from the red painted tin box as Moira
returned, beer in hand.  She stationed herself at the end of the bed,
leaning back against the wall along side the dresser.

   "What's her name?"

   "Carol.  Don't know her last name."

   "Hey, Carol.  Your butt is magnificent.  Do all the ass men flip over
it?"

   Carol just closed her eyes.

   Moira took a sip of her beer while eyeing Carol's ass.

   "Is she deaf or mute or both?"

   "I told her not to respond to you."

   Moira's eyes flashed at me and then held steady on my sketch.  The black
strokes were defining shapes nicely.  This will be a good one, I thought to
myself.

   "You're pretty good, Richard."

   "Just.  My teacher said I pay too much attention to detail."

   "What's wrong with that?"

   "She preferred to capture the essence of the figure with as few strokes
as possible."

   "Ah.  A visual Haiku.  Yes?"

   I gave her a long warm admiring glance.

   "Just who is this Carol, love?"

   At last.  A term of endearment.  "My neighbor, love."

   "Does she pose for a living?"

   "No.  This is her first time, I think."

   "Then how...?  What did you do to get her...?"

   "She made me an offer I could refuse."

   "Hm?"

   "I'm finished.  What do you think?"

   "Not bad.  I'd hang that in my house.  The guest room most likely."

   "Thanks.  You can be so droll."

   "Tell her to talk to me now."

   "Carol, you may speak.  And roll to your stomach now."

   Carol complied with a long sigh.

   "Carol, what was your offer?"

   "My ass hole."

   "What?  Explain!"

   "I said he could fuck my ass hole.  In short, my ass hole was only for
ass holes so he could have it."

   "I'm surprised he turned you down."

   "So was I, then."

   "But not now?"

   "He's not an ass hole."

   "How did you determine that?"

   "I'd rather not go into that right now."

   "As you wish."

   Moira sipped some beer and eyed me contemplatively.  "How could you
resist?"

   "The answer is obvious should you think on it a moment."

   "You didn't because of me?"

   I nodded yes.

   "You fucked Kerry, no?"

   "No, she sucked me off."

   "What did you do to her?"

   "Sucked and pinched her nipples.  Rubbed her clit with my fingers and
tongue."

   "Why did you get it on with her and not with Carol?"

   "I had your permission to play with Kerry.  I didn't have it for Carol."

   "What'll you give me to give you permission?"

   "I've already given you everything I've got."

   Moira just looked at me, blank.

   "You gave me your love, right?"

   "Yes, and trust and now honesty.  That's all I've got that's worth
anything."

   "You are sure working the high ground today."

   "After yesterday, I don't feel like anything else is reasonable."

   "Why?  What are your intentions?"

   "I hope you will become aware of my spirit, the essence of my being. 
Ignore the human frailties and pufferies.  Find out for yourself what makes
me different from and the same as many people."

   Moira blew out a big breath of air and shook her head.  "I need to
digest that one.  Get her out of here.  I don't want you to fuck her. 
Ever."

   "Carol, go home.  Take your beer with you."

   "Yes, Master." She bounced to her feet and scurried out of the room. 
She gave me a long pleading glance as she brushed past.  I ignored her.  A
moment later we heard the front door open and quietly close.

   "Master?  She called you Master?" Moira's eye were wide.  She was not
smiling.

   I just shrugged.  "It's her schtick, not mine.  I'm not involved or
concerned."

   "I saw her face when you told her to leave.  She's your willing and
eager slave.  You'll probably have to find her a 'Master'."

   "I told you, she is not my concern."

   "I think you should be concerned and I think you are but don't feel it
yet.  She has an emotional knot with your name on it.  If you don't untie
that knot she's going to be miserable."

   She gave me a contemplative look.

   "I don't think you can let somebody be in pain because of you and not do
something.  Which means you'll do something and not tell me and like you,
I'll have a little knot with her name on it.  Please tell me now that
you'll do something for her."

   "I think she likes pain.  That's her raison d'etre.  But if you're going
be pained by her then I have no choice.  I will do something for her. 
Happy?"

   "No, I'm not.  Not until we're both free of her."

   Saying that she grabbed my hand and pulled me into the front room.

   Reaching the middle of the room, I took her face in my hands.

   "You're peeling my onion, lover," I whispered.

   "And you mine.  Is that the why of our tears?"

   "Don't know."

   "When will you tell me how she found out you're not an ass hole?"

   "Soon.  I need to think about it some then we can work on it together."

   "Give me a generality, please?"

   "The sound of one hand clapping?"

   "Jesus!  Be serious."

   She pushed away from my hands.

   "Wrong philosopher."

   "You're not being honest."

   "I'm not being dishonest either.  Carol made you aware of an event she
and I shared.  I confirmed it happened but because I don't understand why
it happened it's scary and confusing.  I'd like to delay sharing the
details until I get it sorted out.  Can you tolerate that for a while,
please?"

   "I don't like it.  You're leaving me out.  Don't you want the synergy we
create when we co-operate?  Let's work it out together so we learn more
about each other."

   "Of course but consider this.  If I give you the event details now it
will be a random list and all details will have equal intensity or
importance to you.  If I just let the event simmer on a back burner so to
speak, the more important elements will soon float to the surface while the
less significant will sink.  That means I might be able to see the
structure of the elements that are most significant.  It's a way to
eliminate noise to make it easier to create an ordered list."

   Moira just stared blankly at me then glared.  She turned and walked to
the front door.  "If you can't accept me as an equal and respect my
opinions and style then never call me "the love of your life." She turned
and reached for the door knob.

   With one bound, I had her wrapped in my arms and hoisted off the floor,
her butt against my belly.

   "I don't understand you."

   "Well, I understand you!  You're going to isolate yourself while you
figure it out then you're going to come 'tell' me your independent version.
You must think I'm not smart enough to make sense of anything unstructured.
Not only that, I asked you to do it with me and you ignored me."

   I looked down at her expressionless face.  "You're mad at me because of
my logic style?  "

   "I'm not angry, I just don't appreciate your condescension."

   "But I wasn't..."

   She tilted her head and raised a dubious eyebrow.

   Images and thoughts swirled in my brain.  "My thinking processes have
evolved to a very effective tool..."

   She didn't let me finish.  "So try something new.  You've got a bad case
of NIH.  Check out my style.  That's an offer you shouldn't refuse.

   "Not invented here?" I almost screamed.

   I struggled to slot Moira somewhere between the pliant love of my live
and an uncooperative pain in the ass.  She had hit me with the worst
possible insult.

   "That's totally..." I sputtered.

   "Put me down or I'll pee on you," she interrupted.

   I put her down and she darted into the bathroom.

   I heard a loud tinkle and moved to peep around the door frame.  Her tan
shorts were around her ankles.  Hm.  No panties.  She wiped herself twice
after carefully folding two feet of TP into two neat square stacks.  I felt
my anger and resentment fade.

   She stood, her white blouse draping to mid belly.  I admired her slim,
muscular thighs.  "Nice tan.  Wish I had my camera handy."

   She turned her back to me and wiggled her bubble butt lasciviously.

   She put her hands on her hips and grinned at me over her shoulder.

   "Your butt is so cute it should be declared a narcotic."

   Turning to face me, she stepped out of her shorts and kicked them in my
direction.  I dodged and stepped toward her intending to scoop her up and
hug her.  I wanted to squeeze those tasty buns in my hands.  Knead them
like bread dough.  She raised her arms and wrapped herself around me as I
lifted her.  Nose to nose I said, "Take off your clothes.  I think I love
you."

   "God, you are so easy.  A butt flash and your brain fades.  And guys
claim women are hormonal."

   "With you around I might die of testosterone overdose." Her cool buns
firmly cupped in my palms were distracting.

   "I want to fuck your little cunt so badly," I growled into her ear.

   "Yes," she hissed.  "I want to fuck your little cock until you scream
for mercy."

   "You gotta deal, sweetheart."

   An hour later, our hot, sweaty, sticky bodies slid into a quiet spoon
cuddle.  I wrapped my arms around her and cupped her breast in one hand and
her belly in the other.  Her hair was damp against my cheek, her butt warm
against my sticky dick.

   "Moira?"

   "Yes, love."

   "Let's make a baby."

   "Sure.  Snooze now.  Talk later, okay?" she sighed.  She clutched my
arms tightly to her chest and belly for a moment.

   I kissed her small round sticky shoulder and closed my eyes.





   <p><hr><p><p>

   <I>"God gave man a penis and a brain <br> but not enough blood to
operate both at once."</I><br>Robin Williams.<p>