Chapter 17
I won't look, she told herself. But she knew she had to. What difference did it make? Either her boy had come back or he hadn't. If this was some chambermaid come to clean up the room there was no point in Ella showing her tears to a stranger.
"Uh, this is John," a hesitant voice said.
Ella knew the voice. Her heart leapt at the knowledge that she knew the body, the cock that came with that voice.
She took a deep breath and forced herself to be calm. "Nice to meet you, John," she said, still not looking. "And while we're introducing ourselves, my name's Ella."
The boy who had fucked and sucked her, stuffed his cock down her throat, taught her the joys of uninhibited sex-her nameless lover took the hint. "Uh-Mike," he said in tones of vague outrage as if she ought to know his name.
Ella braced herself and straightened. With the comb in her hand she turned and got her first look at-what in hell was his name-John! At first glance John looked very like Mike. Ella wondered if it was a sign that she was growing old when all boys of this age, long-haired and hard-bodied, just growing their first beards ... how, in their quest for individuality, how did they all manage to look so a-like?
She focused her eyes in the darkened room and discovered that John was perhaps an inch taller than the first boy, that he might outweigh his long-cocked buddy by five pounds, that his hair was straighter, longer, and a shade darker. She wondered if anything else about him was remarkably different.
"Uh-forgot something," Mike said. Ella wondered at his awkwardness. The boy had never been tongue-tied before-especially when he had his tongue between her legs! "My pack's out in the truck," the boy continued. "Be right back."
Ella was mystified as he went out the door of the motel room. If the boy had intended to bug out on her he would have left the first time. Now what was he up to? His pack was not in the rig. It was in the corner of this room beside her overnight bag.
"Your name's Ella?" It was the other boy.
Aha! Suddenly Ella saw it all She wondered if it were possible to die of shame. And they say a woman can't keep a secret, she thought. She knew from the awkward, diffident way this boy-this John was looking at her that he knew it all-probably had been regaled with a stroke-by-stroke, lick-by-suck account of everything that had happened between her and that nasty little snitch of a Mike. But, remembering the smooth hardnesses of Mike's body she felt her anger evaporating.
"Mike's a great guy but sometimes he's a terrible liar," John ventured.
Which means you want to know if it's really true. Ella put on her best Mona Lisa smile. "There are times when I'm not quite sure of the difference between truth and fiction myself," she said ruefully. "Sometimes the strangeness is on the wrong side of the fence."
"I ain't never done it," John said.
It occurred to Ella that there was a real difference between this boy and her lover, Mike. Apart from a cock and a tongue, Mike had some brains.
"Never done what?" Ella asked, knowing damn well what this inarticulate boy meant. In spite of her satiation she felt a little jump inside her at the boy's callow admission. "Never told the truth?" she continued.
John shook his head.
"Oh! You've never told a lie then?"
Even in the dim light of this drawn-curtained room she could see the boy blushing furiously as he shook his head again.
Ella smiled, enjoying herself in spite of Mike's clumsy maneuvering to set up this situation. And wouldn't she give him a piece of her mind when he came wandering innocently back! The boy stood before her writhing in an agony of embarrassment. She felt sorry for him. Boys had feelings too, she guessed, just like girls. She remembered how ignorant and innocent she had been-how she had longed for some kind and understanding person to....
Next thing I'll he opening my arms and mothering him! John was about the same age as Mike but there was apparently a gap of several years in their experience. She remembered her own girlhood. She must have been three, maybe four years older than either of these boys before old Fred had popped the question and her maidenhead in quick succession. She tried to put some kindness in her smile as she asked, "Exactly what is it you've never done?"
Which only made the boy shuffle and turn a darker shade of magenta. "Oh uh-" he finally managed. "Uh-all them things Mike's always tellin' lies about how he did and-"
"Does he lie?"
"Don't he?" John asked, startled out of his embarrassment.
Ella realized she could end the poor boy's embarrassment in a second but she remembered the ordeals Mike had put her through and decided it was time for somebody else to die of shame. Ella was tired of being the victim. "I don't know," she explained. "How can I know if he's lying when I don't know what he's told you?"
John considered this for some time and was forced to concede to superior logic. "Don't know," he said.
"Don't know if he's lying or don't know what he said?"
"I better go now," John said desperately.
"Don't you dare!" Ella snapped as she struggled to contain her amusement. "If somebody's been telling lies about me I want to know about it!"
"He didn't say nothing," John protested.
"Then you're the one telling lies about him?"
John was screwing his feet around in a positive agony of shit-kicking. "Well, uh-uh-Mike uh-he says you do it," he finally managed.
"I do lots of things," Ella said. "I keep house, I drive truck, I cook, I pay taxes."
"He says you take your clothes off," John finally blurted.
"Well of course I do," Ella said matter-of-factly. "Have you ever tried to take a bath without taking them off?"
"I gotta go," the boy repeated.
"Now stop that! You stay right here until you tell me exactly what your friend told you about me."
"He didn't really say much," the boy said desperately. "He just said I should go in here and say I never done it and maybe you'd help me."
"He told you to say you'd never done it?"
The boy nodded.
"And have you ever done it?"
The boy reddened again and he began twisting his feet. "No," he said in a barely audible voice.
"And what is it you've never done?"
"Fuck." It came out in a coarse whisper.
"Oh dear!" Ella said. "I'm sorry. I thought we were talking about driving trucks." It was all she could do not to explode with laughter at the way the boy's face fell.
"I better go," he said in disconsolate tones.
"You'd better not go just yet," Ella said. "You've been on the road and you're cold and you need a bath. Are you hungry?"
The boy shook his head. "I got money. I ate a while ago."
The boy was such a transparent liar that Ella was inclined to believe him in this matter. "But you still need a bath," she said firmly and pointed toward the open door.
"Yes'm," the boy said. He went into the bathroom and closed the door. He must have been a lightning undresser for Ella heard the water running much sooner than she expected. Hastily, she shucked her ski pants and jacket and got into the king-sized bed. Drawing the covers up around her chin she suppressed a giggle at what would happen when the boy came out and found her in bed.
Suddenly she realized her mind was so full of other thines she really wasn't sure. She passed a hand down the front of her full-blown body and was relieved. She did have on her bra and her matching yellow bikini panties. It would never do to appear naked before a stranger. She composed her straight hair on the pillow as best she could. She closed her eyes in the almost dark room and waited, listening to the sound of water splashing off the bov's body. She hoped Mike would get good and cold out there waiting in the truck.
If he was waiting. The boys had split up before to make getting rides easier. Maybe her red-hot lover had split again. Who cared? At least he left a fresh substitute. How many times was a virgin boy good for?
Ella had already had enough. Which made no difference; she wanted more. Listening to water splash in the shower, she tried to decide what to do first. There ought to be some kind of a manual full of handy hints on how to get the most out of a man-something on the most economical use of a hard-on. She suspected that for a boy who had "never done it" there would be little flexibility in the opening number. But who cared? She was just an old-fashioned girl herself-had been until a few hours ago when this young innocent's demon partner had taught her things she had never learned in eighteen years of marriage. The water stopped running in the bathroom.
It was a waste, she knew, to let the boy dress in the bathroom when sooner or later he was going to have to take it all off again. But seduction has its rituals and if she took too many shortcuts she might scare the boy right out of his hard-on.
The bathroom door opened and the bright light nearly blinded Ella. "Close the door," she called, "Or turn out the light or something."
The boy complied. She kept her eyes closed rightly for a few seconds, then opened them to see the boy standing by the bathroom door. Obviously he could still not see after his session in the brightly lit bathroom.
"Walk straight ahead and sit on the edge of the bed," she instructed. From his unquestioning obedience Ella knew that the boy did not suspect she was in bed. He walked slowly until his knees bumped the king-sized mattress, then turned and sat gingerly.
"Did you have a nice bath?"
"Yeah, thanks. I got warmed up too."
"That's nice," Ella said vaguely.
"I still can't see," he grumped. "It's too dark in here."
"Don't you turn the lights out when you go to bed?" she teased.
"Well yeah but-" The boy turned and squinted. This time he saw her. "Oh wow!" he said as he jumped from the bed.
"You are the jumpiest boy."
"But I didn't know you were-"
"Sit down," Ella said firmly. "When a person rents a motel room it's done with the understanding that there'll be a bed in it. Beds are for sleeping."
"Oh."
"Now why do you sound so disappointed?"
"Nothing."
"Oh, I see," Ella said in slightly exaggerated tones. "You're tired and you want to sleep too." She pretended to think for a moment. "If you'll promise to be good and not snore you can sleep here. It's a big bed and we won't get in each other's way."
John apparently didn't believe his ears. "In this bed? With you?"
"There's another?" Ella asked. "Oh for heaven's sake, aren't you even going to take your shoes off?"
"Sorry," John mumbled and let go of the corner of the blanket.
"And while you're at it, I've worn pants enough to know how they bind," Ella added. "So why don't you just sort of duck down out of sight and get rid of the rest of your clothes so you won't be twisting and turning all night?"
"How about you?" John asked suspiciously.
"How about me what?"
"You gotta be wearin' something."
"Of course I am. Woman don't usually sleep naked, you know."
John hadn't. But after a moment's indecision he sat on the floor and removed his clothes even more rapidly than he had in the bath. Raising the corner of the blanket like a screen, he scooted into the bed and lay rigid, face up on the farthest possible edge of the bed.
"Sleepy?" Ella asked amusedly.
No answer.
"Did you take all your clothes off?" Again no answer. "Well," she sighed, "good night."
"Ain't night," John grumped. "It's almost four in the morning."
And I left a call for six! "You're not really sleepy, are you?" she probed.
From John's grunt it was evident that he was not
"Neither am I," Ella said. "Why don't you tell me a story?"
"What kind of a story?"
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Drive a truck," she said sourly. "Do you do it with your pants on or off?"
"Huh?"
"I'll bet you're still wearing your pants," she accused.
"Ain't either."
"Can you prove it?"
"You want to look?" John asked incredulously.