Chapter 10
After my marathon sessions with Bess and Myra the night before, I was content to settle for a quiet, uneventful Fourth of July with Eileen and her mother. I'd had my share of fireworks during the early morning hours.
The day was a pleasant, relaxing excursion after the hectic night before. Eileen and I roamed the meadows around Harry Tamkee's cottage while her mother sunned herself on the pier. After our picnic lunch on a table under the trees near the cottage, I surprised Eileen and Momma Walters with a boat ride in Harry's 16-foot outboard.
We skimmed around the lake for a few hours watching the water skiers and waving to people in other boats. The relaxation did me good and I knew I was scoring heavily with both Eileen and her mother.
After docking the boat and gathering up our belongings, we piled back into my station wagon and headed back to the city. It was a fairly long drive and the traffic was rather heavy, but I took it easy and the miles rolled by quickly. We arrived back at the Walters house about 8 p.m. After unloading the car, Eileen and I sat out on the front porch steps, listening to the sounds of the evening. Soft, quiet music was just audible from a radio or stereo playing in a nearby house.
After several silent minutes, Eileen said, "I want to thank you for a wonderful time today, Paul." Her long blonde hair rustled gently in the evening breeze and she smiled at me. I filled my eyes with her lovliness. The fullness of her breasts, her slim waist and her full, womanly hips had had my complete attention all day. Somehow, knowing that laying her would be difficult, made the challenge more exciting. I wanted her right then and there and it was all I could do to keep from pushing her back on the porch floor and taking her.
With my mind full of lust, I grinned back at Eileen. "There can be lots of days like today," I promised. "When can I see you again? How about Friday night?"
"Well," she began haltingly, looking down at her feet. "I don't have any plans for Friday night." Her dark brown eyes were luminous in the moonlight. "But, I ... "
"Now, don't change your mind," I said, taking her hand.
"We'll see, Paul," she said with a weak smile. There were several more minutes of silence and then she said, "Mother certainly enjoyed the change of scenery today, Paul. That boat ride was just fabulous. Be sure to thank your friends for us, won't you? It was too bad they were called out of town so suddenly and couldn't come to the cottage. It was very nice of them to let us spend the day at their lovely place."
While she was talking, I had watched a car slow down as it approached the Walters house where we were sitting on the shadowy porch steps.
The vehicle pulled in and parked at the curb in front of the house and both Eileen and I watched Bess open the door of the late model Buick Riveria. She climbed out with her mini-skirt high up on her lovely tanned thighs, giving me a quick, fleeting glimpse of the charms I had enjoyed so thoroughly at the motel the night before. A young guy got out of the car, too, and hand in hand the couple approached the porch.
"Hi there you people," Bess called happily. "Have a nice picnic?" Her eyes sparkled with devilment and her long brown hair fell softly over her shoulders which peeked out of her sleeveless blouse. As she skipped up the steps, her big breasts bobbed freely beneath her blouse, revealing that she wore no bra.
"We've only been back a little while, Bess," Eileen answered. "Where did you and Buddy spend the day?"
Before Bess could answer, Buddy's deep baritone voice replied, "We went out on my boat for a while with another couple. We were going to go out to the fair grounds to watch the stock car races, but Bess talked me into going out on the boat."
Just then Bess' eyes caught mine and she winked wickedly. Then it clicked! Buddy was the boyfriend who liked orgies on his boat. Bess had mentioned him the night before and her wink told me that their double date had been a real fun time.
Buddy looked like a high school football hero. He was about as tall as I am-just over six feet-and built like a middle line backer.
"Oh, Paul, I'm sorry," Eileen said, remembering that she hadn't introduced us. "This is Paul Norman, Buddy, an old friend of mine. Paul, this is Buddy Wilson, an old friend of Bess."
We smiled at each other and shook hands. The kid had a grip like a vise. "Hi ya, Mr. Norman," he said. "Bess has been telling me all about you."
"Oh," I said lamely. I shuddered to think what young Bess could have told him about us. I shot a quick glance at the teen-age beauty and she crinkled her pert little nose at me and flicked her green eyes mischievously over my frame, teasing.
"I've been telling Buddy that you and Eileen went to high school together." Bess finally said, breaking the awkward silence.
"Yeah," Buddy said, stumped for anything else to add to the already shaky conversation.
Luckly, Momma Walters came out on the porch then and invited all of us in for ice cream. Buddy slipped his ape-like arm around Bess, ready and willing to accept the invitation.
"Thanks, but I'll have to take a rain check this time," I said. Then, looking at Eileen, I asked, "Eight o'clock Friday night?"
She nodded with her dark brown eyes warm and friendly. "Fine, Paul," she answered. "Can you give me a hint as to how I should dress?"
"I thought we might have dinner somewhere and do a little dancing," I said. "That is if you don't mind taking a chance-it's been so long since I've danced that you could get hurt."
Everyone laughed, including Momma who was beaming and nodding happy approval from the porch while Bess and Buddy moved up the steps.
"I'll take a chance, Paul," Eileen said. "Goodnight-and thanks again for the lovely day." Her fingers touched my arm and lingered gently for a moment before she withdrew.
"Yes, it was a wonderful way to spend July Fourth!" Momma called. "Come again, Paul. Come often!"
"Goodnight, Mr. Norman," Buddy said from the porch where he and Bess stood beside Momma. "Nice meeting you."
"I'll be seeing you, Paul," Bess yelled. That was her way of telling me that she still expected to be picked up on the corner the following evening as we had arranged last night.
I gave them all a friendly wave as I opened the door of my wagon parked in the driveway. "Goodnight, everyone!" I shouted.
As I drove away, I looked up into the rear view mirror and saw Eileen watching me while Momma and Bess and Buddy went into the house.
Eileen thought I was a real gentleman. I hadn't as much as kissed her or tried to put my arm around her. I hadn't even stared at her too avidly when she'd had on her curve-clinging two-piece bathing suit up at the cottage that afternoon.
She may have considered the possibility of being kissed. She probably expected at least a goodnight kiss to conclude our date scheduled for that Friday night.
I lit a cigarette while I drove toward the suburb where Myra's apartment was located. Women were easy to fool, I chuckled out loud. They all believed what they wanted to believe.
Like Eileen who apparently had me pegged as a good-natured, hard-working citizen type. Since her recent divorce, she was lost and a little frightened of establishing a real man-and-woman relationship. As long as I let her believe that I wasn't after her body, at least not too aggressively, she wouldn't be fearful of getting involved with me.
Myra Lawrence believed what she wanted to, too. That afternoon, on the way back from the cottage with Eileen and her mother, I had phoned Myra when we had stopped for gasoline. She hadn't even questioned me when I told her I'd been busy all day helping Donna get moved back in with her parents. My black beauty was so anxious for me to get rid of my wife that she hadn't even thought it was strange that I hadn't called until late afternoon.
Now I was going back to spend the night with Myra again. I grinned, thinking that another wild and sex-filled night like last night would be a good way to wrap of the celebration of Independence Day.
Of course, Myra wasn't aware of it, but Donna wasn't the only woman I intended to kiss off and forget about. My sexy secretary was on her way out, too.
I didn't know how or when I would get rid of her, but ever since I had been around Eileen and her mother, I knew that Myra wouldn't last much longer. It was difficult for me to explain to myself and just about impossible to understand. I still considered Myra the most sensual woman and the best lay I'd ever known. Even then, as I drove toward her apartment, I could feel the animal desire growing inside me.
The trouble was that I was falling in love with Eileen. How the hell it happened, I'll never know. I didn't want to marry her, but she had some kind of weird attraction for me that I couldn't shake. I guess her mother and her friendly maternal ways were part of it, too. My family hadn't been much and I guess I wanted Momma Walters to fill the void.
Goddam, what a mess! A mother substitute, a broad I couldn't touch and didn't want to marry, and the little sister who was a sex maniac and jail bait besides. Leave it to old Paul Normal to get mixed up with the typical American family.
When I pulled my wagon up in front of Myra's apartment, I tried to shake the strange collection of thoughts from my mind. My life was getting more complex every hour, but right then, there was only one thing that I wanted to think about-Myra's fantastic body. I knew I could lose myself there and enjoy the sensation of sheer sexual pleasure. That's all Myra and I were to each other, but at times like that, it was enough. It was a comfort to know that Myra had no strings on me and wasn't going to have any.
It was just after 9 p.m. when I knocked on the door of Myra's apartment. She greeted me with a broad smile, and opened the door wide. As usual, she was stunning. A low cut gold colored blouse revealed much of her bountiful bosom and her full, lush hips were covered with soft white bermuda shorts that clung tightly to her flesh.
My eyes ran over her dark form, set off dramatically by the light colored clothing. She smiled at my approving glance and stuck her boobs out another inch or so just to show me that she could. My experienced eye told me that Myra wore no underwear at all beneath her cool looking outfit.
"You look great, baby," I told her. "Good enough to eat."
She smiled at me wickedly, lowering her eyes seductively. "That's the best offer I've had all evening," she said in a deep, throaty voice.
I took her hand and led her into her red and black bedroom. Once again the red carpet and sheets clashed dramatically with the dark, nearly-black Spanish style furniture. Myra stopped in front of a wide, full length mirror that hung on the wall across from the large bed. "Here," she said. "I like to watch while you do it."
I smiled at her, understanding what she wanted. As I started unbuttoning my shirt, Myra moved quickly over to her dressing table and returned with a wrought iron chair with a red velvet seat. She positioned it carefully before the mirror and returned to her dressing table on the other side of the large bedroom.
This time she returned with a lit marijuana cigarette dangling from her thick, dark lips.
"What are you smoking that thing for now?" I asked, continuing to undress.
"I want to enjoy this little session completely, baby," she answered. "A little grass always improves the vibrations."
"Anything you say," I shrugged. "You still look good enough to eat." I was naked then and my rod was hard and erect. She looked at it and grinned wantonly.
She took a deep drag on the joint and inhaled. Then she reached behind her back and unfastened the few buttons that held her gold blouse together. The light garment fell from her ripe body revealing the magnificent chocolate colored globes that rose proudly from her chest.
Next she skinned off the soft looking bermudas she wore and kicked them away. She was nude now and only a few inches from my eager hands and lips.
I pulled her to me roughly, crushing her body against me and feeling her big breasts flatten against my chest. I kissed her hard. I pushed my tongue between her partially open lips and lapped anxiously at her tongue, probing deep into her mouth and throat. Naturally, she tightened her arms around me and moved her hips against my stiffness. She responded to my kiss as I had expected, plunging her tongue into my mouth.
We parted then and Myra sat on the black wrought iron chair with the red velvet seat. She still held the smoking marijuana cigarette in her fingers and as I knelt on the blood-red carpet before her, she took another deep drag and pulled the sweet smelling smoke into her lungs.
"I'm ready, Paul, baby," she whispered hoarsely, spreading her legs apart as I rested my hands on her thighs. "Do it good."
Slowly, trying to increase the tension of the moment, I lowered my head between her legs and kissed the tangled mat of black, curly hair. She moaned when my lips touched her and tossed her head making her long, soft mane fall back over the chair.
I kissed around the slit that was the opening of her sex box and then gently pulled the lips apart with my fingers. My slow, deliberate movements were driving Myra mad with passion. Suddenly, her hands reached out and grabbed my head, forcing my face hard against her warm, moist pussy.
"Do it," she begged. "Oh, God, Paul, do it!"
Responding to her plea, I thrust my tongue, forward and rammed it between the soft, pink lips of her sex. She nearly screamed with pleasure as she felt my tongue reach deep into her moist sensitive parts.
Her hands were still behind my head, pressing me to her. Then one of her hands moved and I knew she was taking another pull on her grass. I had just started moving my tongue back and forth in imitation of the natural sex act when the pressure of Myra's hands reversed and she pulled me away from her dark, tender spot.
"Here," she said, sticking her marijuana cigarette between my lips. "Now's the perfect time to try pot."
For some reason I'll never understand, I didn't resist. Instead, I eagerly took two heavy puffs of the stick and inhaled deeply. The smoke felt warm and relaxing in my lungs, so I took a third drag before she pulled the joint away.
"Hey, don't hot-box it," she warned. "This is good grass."
I laughed and returned immediately to the job I had started a few seconds before. I buried my face in the dark crack between Myra's legs and gave her the best tongue lashing I'd ever given a woman.
Fortunately, my efforts were not lost on her. She arched her back and squealed with delight each and every time I pushed my tongue between her tasty lips. Finally, I settled on biting, sucking and lapping her clitoris and the sensations were nearly more than Myra could stand.
The marijuana was having its effect on me then, although I didn't fully realize it. I felt light and bigger than life and somehow I just knew that my tongue had grown to a tremendous size. Every time I shoved it into Myra, it seemed, I brought her to a new level of sexual ecstasy.
She was watching the entire operation both from her vantage point on the dressing table chair and by watching our reflection in the big mirror beside us.
"Oh, yes, baby," she cried, as I flicked her clitoris with the tip of my tongue. "Keep doing that. It's beautiful!"
I continued the same motion with my tongue and in a few seconds, Myra screamed and pulled my head against her with such force that I could hardly breathe. Her orgasm rocked her beautiful ebony body for nearly two minutes, sending shiver after shiver of pure pleasure throughout her being.
Still high from my brief encounter with pot, I was in a state of sexual excitement that I had never experienced before. My hard-on was nearly bursting with its desire for action and I could feel the faint rumblings of an orgasm deep within me although no real stimulation had yet been applied to my rod.
"Come down here," I finally demanded, half lifting and half pulling Myra off her chair. Her limp, sex-drained body fell heavily on top of me and she laughed as we toppled over.
The sight of her lovely, voluptuous body spread before me on the crimson carpet was too much to bear. I threw myself on her and rammed my weapon into her quickly. The soft, wet flesh of her love box closed gently around my rod as it pushed forward, catching me in a warm, sensuous embrace that made me shake with pleasure.
Her hard, dark nipples dug into my chest and her arms and legs wrapped tightly around me, locking me in for the ride of love. I started the slow, hammering, rocking movement and Myra's hips responded beautifully to my every thrust.
"I've just decided to screw you all night long," I announced, surprised to hear that my voice sounded like an echo chamber. The pot was powerful stuff, but I loved it.
"You just do that, lover boy," Myra murmured, pumping her love region against me to take in every inch I had to give.
Then, suddenly, I came. Instead of it being an intense explosion that rocked me with undescribable pleasure, my first orgasm under the influence of pot was a wildly wonderful experience that I can only relate to flying. I seemed to be soaring through the sky without benefit of an airplane or any such device. As the cream poured out of me, I felt like I was in a steep, swift dive, thrilling to the sensation of the wind rushing past me at fantastic speed. Every cell of my body could feel the wind and every cell of my body experienced that orgasm. Even now, when I think about it, a strange chill sort of feeling comes over me and my rod twitches, ready for another trip.