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Subject: {Metlay}JDR"The Bandit 6"( MF cons )[7/11]
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=========
This work is copyright 1989 metlay.
All persons, places and events in this story series are fictional.
=========
=====================
THE BANDIT
by Mike Metlay
atomic@tesser.com
PART 6:
A mistake made, a mistake mended
October 1982
The tiny dorm singlet wasn't as large or spacious as the old quad, but
it only held one man and his belongings, so it didn't have to be much more
than cozy. The bed stretched from end to end of the narrow space, with
barely enough room on the walls for two of the Roger Deans, and there was
only a ratty old bathmat on the floor in place of Zero's Persian rug, but
the wires and cables festooning every spare inch of space and the speakers
mounted on the walls were a sure sign that this was the Bandit's home,
unspoiled by Zero's obsessive neatness. The lights were out and there was
no sound in the room save the muffled hum of music through a pair of
headphones and the dry, sandy whisper of an occasional word or disjointed
phrase.
The Bandit was lying on his back on the rumpled bed, staring at the
ceiling as the music played on. It was "The Wall," the disheveled old tape
copy he'd played half to death in 1980 while mourning the loss of his last
high-school sweetheart. When he'd met Teenie, the tape had been gleefully
tossed into the back of his music crate and ignored for three years. But
now it was on again, and the Bandit found he remembered every word, every
note.
A hastily scrawled letter lay on the desk by the bed, beige parchment
smeared with Mary Magdalene's careless script. He'd read it only once, but
he could quote its contents verbatim.
How dare you attempt to lay blame for what happened on me? How dare
you insinuate that the cruelty and misery I've been dragged through were
all my fault, and that you were some kind of a helpless victim? If you
won't accept kinder words, Bandit, then let me give it to you in your own
unique style: I do not want to be in any sort of relationship with you,
ever again. I deserve better than you, and I will not be dragged down to
your level, and in fact I think it better if we didn't even speak to one
another again....
The Bandit's lips moved unconsciously, following the lyrics of the
tape. He couldn't hear himself with the headphones on, so he couldn't have
known that he was singing out loud, a hoarse, miserable croak that somehow
would have fit in with the music, had anyone been listening.
"Ooooh, babe, don't leave me now,
How could you go?
When you know how I need you, need you, need you, need you,
To put through the shredder in front of my friends,
Ooh BABE...."
The summer was gone, a lingering pink fog that contained two or three
months of his life, now gone forever, the details blurry. He'd been SO in
love with her.... quit his lab job back home to stay in Arcadia and sling
hash, just so they could be together, found a miserable little room to
sublet in a boarding house on the edge of town and made it their love nest,
barely eight feet from wall to wall but it held them, held their love all
night every night, a womb, a cocoon, an oasis....
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
Her breasts, slick with sweat and his saliva, slipping up and down the
length of his penis, her giggles as he expertly curved her diaphragm into a
perfect U-shape and slid it into her cunt, tickling her clit as he did, the
black, black fan of her long hair over his face as they slept, her head on
his shoulder....NO! Don't think of it, put it aside!
"Hey you, out there in the cold,
Getting lonely, getting old,
Can you feel me?"
When had it gone sour? The trip she took by herself to see that
concert when he couldn't get time off from work? The week he'd spent in
bed with the flu, when she didn't want to get infected? All he was sure of
was that when he'd returned in September, it was dead or dying. And he'd
been the one to deliver the deathblow--ENOUGH! DON'T THINK ABOUT IT!
"You better make your face up in your favorite disguise--"
It sprang into being unbidden, he couldn't hold it back any longer,
the night out in the lounge, him sitting alone, brooding and miserable, her
approaching timidly, a shaky smile--
"Can I rest my head on your shoulder?"
And then--why, why, WHY?-- that good old Bandit instinct:
"Wait a second. Let me note down the date, here."
"Sitting in a bunker, here behind my wall,
Waiting for the worms to come...."
It wasn't fair. All of the wonderful things he'd felt over the summer
were so hazy, so hard to grasp and hold onto, but the next thirty seconds
were etched into his brain like glass oozing under spilled acid... Her
look of agonized shock, as if he'd driven a stake into her heart, her
headlong flight out the door and into the night, and Conan--CONAN, of all
people!--
"Bandit, that was unquestionably the lowest shot I've ever seen."
And the rush of the freezing wind as he ran out after her--
"MaryMag, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry--"
"LEAVE ME ALONE, BANDIT, NOTHING YOU CAN SAY WILL DO MORE THAN HURT
ME, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"
And his forlorn wail in the night behind her as she ran:
"I LOVE YOUUUUUU!"
And then the cold meetings, his pleas for forgiveness, all the studied
cynicism coming back to haunt him...and finally the letter. That letter.
And there was nothing at all left to say.
The Bandit's eyes squeezed shut as a cry of utter agony echoed in his
ears, bringing the thunderous music to a crashing halt and leaving behind
the sad, sweet sound of a lone piano. A flood of tears began to pour down
his face, tears like he hadn't cried since the day they'd put Dad into the
earth and shovelled dirt on him, tears for the loss of something, of
everything. And he sang along with the tape, a plaintive wail that he
didn't care who heard.
"STOP!
I wanna go home--
Take off this uniform and leave the show.
And I'm waiting in this cell because I have to know--
Have I been guilty all this time?"
In this cell. This tiny room, alone. No more music, no band, losing
my friends, failing school, alone, forgotten. I deserve it. I deserve it.
"Oh, God help me...."
The Bandit tossed the headphones away. He didn't want to hear the
last song, the one that hinted that there might be some hope left in his
world. He cried and cried, and at last he fell asleep. November 1982
"Knock, knock! Can I come in?"
The Bandit looked up from his desk, startled, and pulled off his
headphones. He smiled and reached back to switch off the tape deck,
saying, "Sure, Twink. You're always welcome here."
"Thanks!" She came in and shut the door behind her, her cheeks
flushed with the cold wind outside, her smile bright. She came over and
stood behind the Bandit's chair, bending over to hug his shoulders and kiss
his cheek.
"Hey," the Bandit said with a grin as he reached back behind him to
awkwardly return the hug, "What was that for?"
"Oh, I just felt like it," Twink replied breezily. She did a neat
little pirouette and fell laughing onto his bed, leaning back on the woolen
covers and smiling at him with a look that told him volumes. The autumn
sun shone in her honey-blonde hair, and the Bandit felt that familiar catch
in his breath whenever she was near him.
He put down his pen, and said, "Okay, okay, it's obvious I'm not going
to get any more grading done until you tell me what's on your mind. Did
you meet someone special over fall break, or something?"
She nodded eagerly, her lower lip caught pensively between her teeth.
"He's called the Paladin," she said with a dreamy smile. "We met at a Dark
Age Society Revel back home...."
"A WHAT?" The Bandit slapped his forehead. "Oh, Twink, you DIDN'T!"
"Didn't what?" She frowned at him in sudden worry. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing," he replied disgustedly, grimacing. "Just bad memories,
that's all. The DAS and I have kind of a feud going on in my home town,
and I do my best to stay away from them. But," he added more solicitously,
"Some of them are very nice people, I must admit...."
"He's WONDERFUL!" Her voice was practically quivering. "He was so
romantic, and so sweet and gentle....We're going to be married!"
The Bandit's jaw dropped. "Married?"
"YES! He proposed, and I said I'd have to think it over, and he said
I could take as long as I wanted because he'd wait forever for me! Oh,
Bandit, I'm so HAPPY!"
The Bandit shook his head with a smile. "Well, if you're happy, I'm
happy, sweetheart. I just hope he takes good care of you, that's all."
"Oh, he did, all right." Her smile was playfully wicked now.
That sat the Bandit back in his chair more than the marriage proposal.
He asked in a faint whisper, "You mean he...You and he...?"
"Uh-huh!" There were almost tears in her eyes. "I'm so glad I waited
for just the right time, Bandit! It was beautiful, and it didn't hurt at
all! I didn't even bleed, or anything! He was just, just GRAND!"
"Wow." The Bandit scratched his head in a daze. "I, uh, don't know
what to say, I, um...wow."
"Oh, c'mon, Bandit! I've never seen you at a loss for words before!"
Twink leaned forward and gently stroked the Bandit's cheek. "Are you
jealous?"
"Well, uh...." He looked into space for a moment, a thoughtful frown
on his face, then gave a short, sharp nod. "Yes, dammit! I am, I guess.
I know I don't have a right to be, but you're just so important to me, I
kind of have trouble with the idea of you jumping in the sack with a guy
you barely know and coming out engaged!"
"Oh, no," she grinned, shaking her head. "I went IN engaged. I was
very clear on that point when we first met on Monday, when he asked me for
the first time to spend the night. And he said it was okay, and he didn't
hassle me or anything, and we spent the whole week together and we were so
happy and then he asked me to marry him and I--" She paused, out of breath,
hands waving in the air. "I just feel like FLYING!"
The Bandit watched her emote, his eyebrows puckered into a forbidding
glower. As she finished, he carefully composed himself, his expression
neutral. "Did he give you an engagement ring?"
"Uh, no, not yet," Twink sighed. "He didn't have the money, and we
didn't see anything we really liked at the DAS jewelry booths...."
"Uh-huh." The Bandit nodded sagely.
"He couldn't even find a nice ring with Guinevere helping, and she
knows ALL the best jewelers at the Revel! So we decided we could wait for
the PERFECT ring."
"Who's Guinevere?"
"His girlfriend," Twink said easily. "Ex-girlfriend, I mean. She was
really sweet about the whole thing, she said that he and she needed a
little space from one another and that she understood perfectly." She
giggled. "She even promised to keep him out of trouble for me while I was
gone."
"I'll just bet she did." The Bandit's lips pursed grimly.
"Oh, lighten up, Bandit!" Twink gave him a playful shove. "I know
they're going to be together while I'm here, but it's okay...I trust him,
and he trusts me! We can have friends and people with us and still be
true...."
"Uh-huh," the Bandit said drily.
"You seem skeptical," Twink said throatily, leaning forward and giving
the Bandit a good look down the front of her blouse. His eyebrows raised.
Since when has she started wearing red silk underwear? "That'd be a real
shame, considering the real reason I came over here...."
"Oh? And what was that?" He was only half listening to her, trying
to get his mind off of the impressive cleavage that was closer to him than
it'd been in half a year.
"To fuck your brains out," Twink sighed, grabbing the Bandit by the
hair and pulling him out of his chair and onto the bed with her. "I
figured that now that I'm not saving myself any more, I could at least give
you a taste of what you were decent enough not to demand when we were
dating...."
The Bandit allowed himself approximately two seconds of guilt over
forgetting the lonely torch he'd been carrying for Mary Magdalene for the
past month or six, and over the prospect of boinking another man's fiancee.
Then he gave the mental equivalent of a shrug, and kissed Twink as hard as
he could. I am but the slave of fickle Fate, he decided philosophically.
If she's set on expressing our friendship in such a, a, a UNIQUE fashion,
then who'm I to argue? YIPPEE! I don't know who you are, Paladin, but
thanks a HEAP!
He had almost forgotten what a wonderful body Twink had. Memories
from the dim past A. M. (Ante Magdalenus) came flooding back as he kicked
his sneakers off and pulled off her shoes and socks, never pausing to break
the incredible kiss they were sharing. His pants followed, then hers, then
his underwear and his shirt, then her blouse.
She broke the kiss, panting, and pushed him away for a moment. He sat
back against his pillow, buck naked and hard as a rock, and she ran a hand
down his chest and stomach as she arched her back and purred at him, a coy
smile on her face as she flexed her muscles and proudly threw her breasts
forward, straining against the clinging red fabric.
"You like?"
"Si, I like."
"Muchas gracias, senor," she laughed, sliding a finger down into her
cleavage. There was a tiny click, and the invisible front closure of the
bra sprang apart, leaving her breasts jiggling gently with each heaving
breath. She tossed the bra away, and slid her hands down her hips, peeling
away the matching red silk panties to reveal her lush golden curls of pubic
down.
"Now for a snack I've really missed," she chuckled, diving her head
down into his crotch. His lap vanished into a sun-kissed golden waterfall
of hair, and he dimly heard, "It tastes so gooommmmmmmmmmm...."
"Oh, God!" The Bandit's eyes actually crossed. "Easy, Twinkles,
easy! I appreciate your, urk, enthusiasm, but you're, ooch, you're biting
me!"
"Oh, am I?" She sank her teeth into the base of his dong with a
laugh.
"YIKES! GENTLY, WOMAN!"
"Hmmmm," she grinned, "Maybe I should let you put it someplace where I
don't have any teeth." She crawled up onto him, kissing his lips and
pumping on his penis with a tightly gripped fist.
"Whoa! Whoa, time out, here!" The Bandit pushed her away gently.
"What's wrong?" She stopped, puzzled.
"Gotta get a condom," the Bandit explained, pulling a foil wrapper out
from under a pile of papers on his desk. Thank God I had a couple left
from before MaryMag (who? never heard of her. HAH!) started on the
diaphragm, he thought, tearing open the package and rolling the cold latex
onto his shaft with a grimace.
"Oh, that looks so terribly uncomfortable, dear," Twink said with a
shake of her head. "Anything I can do to help?"
"Yeah," the Bandit laughed, pulling her on top of him, "Help me warm
it up, it's cold!"
"EEEEK! It IS cold," Twink laughed, feeling the cool, slick invader
between her moist thighs. "Help me, Bandit...I'm not good at this yet...."
"My pleasure," he smiled, guiding his tool between her juicy labia and
feeling gently for the entrance to her cunt. His eyes widened in surprise.
"Hey, you've still got your hymen! No wonder you didn't bleed!"
"Really?" Twink looked down at herself in perplexity. "Why didn't it
break?"
"Yours is ring-shaped, sweetheart," he explained, rubbing the tip of
his penis gently over the point in question. "It may have just stretched
rather than torn, that's all."
"Oh. Well, let's see what you can do with it!" And with that, Twink
swiftly and surely lowered her full weight down onto the Bandit's hips.
For a long minute, she just sat there, her body swaying back and forth
and her head thrown back as she gasped and panted at the feel of it. The
Bandit was in heaven, feeling the moist heat and clasping strength of her
untried young pussy even through the triply-accursed condom. Slowly he
began to buck his hips up and down on the mattress, pumping in and out of
her hole.
Twink matched his rhythm, stroke for stroke, levering her whole body
up onto her knees and slamming herself down on his rod with all of her
might. He reached up and grabbed her breasts, squeezing them and rolling
her huge nipples in his fingers as she bucked and tossed on him, grunting
and moaning.
Twink grabbed his hands and held them tightly to her breasts as she
screamed, "Oh! OH, GOD! I'M CUH, UH, UH, UH, AHHHHHH!" The feel of her
cunt contracting spasmodically about his penis was too much for the Bandit
to bear, and he grunted and heaved upward against her, semen spurting from
him in torrents. She collapsed atop him, sobbing, as he relaxed back
against the pillow with a groan.
"Oh, Bandit, I love you! I'll love you forever, you're my best friend
in the whole world, I missed you so, I'll make you so happy...."
"Shhhhh, sweetheart, it's okay, I love you. I never stopped loving
you. What you've given me is so special, I, I just wnat to hold you.
Shhhh, please don't cry...."
"C-can't help it, you kn-know that...it feels s-so GOOD...." She
hugged him fiercely and wept into his hair, her body shaking with the
aftershocks of her orgasm and her cunt spasmodically squeezing his
shrinking rod. "I felt you, I actually FELT you come in me! Even through
the rubber, I felt it, it was like molten FIRE, oh GOD, I LOVE you!"
"Shhhh...Shhhhhh...."
Outside, the setting sun slowly turned the air in the room to gold.
It was night, the sky dark and the room almost as dark. The prison
cell's become a love nest again, the Bandit thought with a weary happiness.
What did I do to deserve someone like Twink? Thank you, God. I let her go
once; I won't make the same mistake again, I promise.
"Mmmmm...Bandit, are you awake?"
He smiled at her languid, sleepy whisper in the dark.
"Yes," he said. "I'm glad to have you back, Twinkles."
"For a while, anyway," Twink said with a practical tone he'd never
heard her use before. "I still have the Paladin to go back to, and you'll
leave Arcadia in May and never come back. But for now, we have each other.
And that's okay, isn't it?"
He hugged her hard, feeling the agony of loss mixed with the weary
knowledge that she was right. It was that tiny, cold voice again, the one
that saw the future; he knew his promise was utterly empty. But I'll make
her happy anyway, he vowed. Even if she can't be mine, at least she can be
happy for a while....
"Yes," he said. "Yes, it is. More than okay."
"Hey!" Her questing, sleepy hand had found his limp, dry penis.
"Where'd the rubber go?"
"I took it off after you fell asleep and I pulled out of you, dear.
It's dangerous to leave it in if you get soft; it can slip off."
"Oh." She giggled. "Things were sure a lot easier the first time!"
His entire body stiffened. Concerned, she looked up at him, and could
just make out the furious glare on his face.
"What's wrong?"
"Twink," he said carefully, "What did you do for birth control?"
"Oh, don't worry," Twink replied brightly. "Is that all? You had me
worried for a second there, looking all sour like that! No, he took care
of everything!"
"Be more specific," the Bandit said darkly.
"Well, I couldn't get pregnant if he pulled out in time, right?"
The Bandit's left hand, of its own accord, leaped off of his knee and
slapped his forehead so hard it left a red mark. "Aw, TWINK! JESUS
CHRIST!"
"What's the matter?" Her smile was gone now.
"Withdrawal isn't any good as a form of birth control!" His next
phrase, 'Anyone with any sense knows that' or something similar, got pulled
and dumped before reaching his mouth. Twink doesn't HAVE any sense, idiot,
he reminded himself angrily. Or any education, or any experience.
More calmly, he explained, "A man secretes more than enough sperm
cells to impregnate a woman just by penetration. He doesn't have to have
an orgasm-- Hell, he doesn't have to be IN you to knock you up! Don't you
remember how I'd never come anywhere near your pubes when we were going
together? Only in your mouth or your hand or on your tummy? Twink, I did
it for a reason!"
Twink was looking shamefacedly down at the pillow. He gently lifted
her chin up so that she was looking him in the eye, and whispered, "Don't
be upset, you couldn't have known. And if HE'S from Bumfuck, North Dakota,
like you were, maybe he didn't know any better, either. When's your period
due?"
She bit her lip. "Not for a long time, now. I stopped bleeding right
before the Revel began."
"Good!" The Bandit sighed in relief. "You wouldn't have ovulated
yet, with any luck, so maybe you got away with it this once. But PROMISE
me something, Twink! Never, never make love with him again if you don't
have some kind of real birth control handy! If he's not repsonsible enough
to wear a condom, then YOU have to be protected, with the Pill or a
diaphragm or SOMETHING!" He shook his head. "And you should probably make
that snake in the grass wear a condom, anyway, just so you don't catch
anything."
"Bandit!" Twink looked outraged, or at least as outraged as she ever
could manage. "Don't you talk about him like that!"
"He nearly got you pregnant, Twink! What the hell would YOU call
him!" And I love you too much to tell you that I heartily doubt he's
really planning on marrying you just yet, kid, he added angrily to himself.
One shock at a time.
"Look," he said gently, "I'll meet him someday, and I'll get to know
him before I judge him. But you have to admit he hasn't made a very good
impression to start out with."
"I suppose not," she said unwillingly. Then, softly: "Bandit?"
"Uh-huh?"
"Will you come to our wedding?"
He hugged her as hard as he could. "Of course, kid. Of course."
=====================
THE BANDIT
by Mike Metlay
Part 6
-30-
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