Chapter 15

The officer outside relocked the door. I had to wait again. About ten minutes later the door was unlocked and I was gestured out by a stocky, fortyish, scowling policewoman. She said, "You can go."

"Thanks!" I was sarcastic and she gave me a look.

I went barefooted down the stairs to the first floor and halfway looked around for mother but didn't see her. I walked up the hallway past the main offices and saw Zeke waiting for me in the small lobby. He was sitting on a curved wooden bench.

He smiled when he saw me. "Lark." His voice carried joy and love.

I melted into his arms for a few seconds. Then I asked, "How's Owl?"

"He's having a bummer. I left him with Rill and Paul." We walked out of the police station and I saw the micro-bus parked by the curb. It looked beautiful. He asked, "What was all that about in there?"

I told him. He nodded and made no comment beyond, "It's as hard for them to let you go as it is for you to break away."

"I can't just break clean, though. I can't hurt her that much, especially now. I think she does love me."

"Love, like that, can be as destructive and anti-life as hate and sadism."

"I guess so." I didn't quite know what he meant then. I learned later, in spades!

We were back at the tribe house in two minutes. I went upstairs and into our room. Rill was lying on the bed with Owl. She was naked to the waist and held his head against her lovely, full, white breasts. He was sobbing into her softness and warmth. The room was lit only by a small lamp. Paul sat on a chair beside the bed, watching, ready to help if needed.

I asked, "How is he now?"

Paul said, "I don't know. I'm not very hip when it comes to this stuff."

I heard Zeke coming up the stairs. Rill said quietly, "It's bad now...."

Owl stiffened and groaned, as if in pain. He clutched at her arms. He said, "Who is it?" He looked around. He saw me. He smiled and whispered, "Oh, man, am I glad to see you back! Oh, Christ ... "

Zeke came into the room and watched.

I sat on the bed and took Owl gently into my arms as he turned on his hip to me. I repeated what had happened and finished with, "Mother just got up-tight and hysterical. It's okay now. I have to see her tomorrow for an hour, then it'll be finished."

"Why tomorrow? You know what she'll do! She'll drag you back with her!"

"She tried that just a few minutes ago. But I didn't go. Don't worry, darling." I tried to cuddle him but he resisted and his eyes flared.

He spoke very swiftly. "She'll suck you back into that plastic world and that fink you were with on the beach will get in on it, and your dad, too, and all the fucking neighbors will come simpering around and say how nice you came to your senses because your mother needs you now and what the fuck can you do then? You haven't got the guts to walk out. I haven't! You haven't! YOU DON'T!" He panted with anger and apprehension. "YOUR FUCKING SENSE OF DUTY WILL KEEP YOU THERE!" He rolled back into Rill's arms and sobbed against her breasts.

"Owl ... darling...."

Zeke drew me away. He led me out of the room and down the hall to his room. He said, "You're not good for him now, Lark. He's hung on you badly and he's terrified of losing you. The acid is making it worse. I don't think you should stay with him tonight. We'll be with him. Don't worry. Rill and I have been through this before."

"What'll I do?"

"Go down and stay with Robin. You can sleep with her or Sparrow tonight. I'm sending down Paul. There should be a man down there before we lock up."

I swallowed sadly. "All right. I just wish he wouldn't take that stuff anymore."

"We all do."

I went downstairs and found Robin in the front room, sitting in her wheelchair, talking with some hippies who had dropped in. The stereo had been turned down out of deference to Owl, I suppose, but it was still loud by most "normal" standards.

Robin wore a long, white, ankle-length kaftan with Owl-painted swirls of green and orange down the front. She seemed holy and child-like in the priest-like garment, with her ankh nestling on her thin chest, but then not so child-like because her small, pointed breasts stuck out with sharp nipples on either side of the ankh.

One of the hippies, a boy with long, curly hair, wearing a myraid of beads, bells and leather fringe, was saying, ". . . six hundred balloons filled with helium. And we spent hours with colored marking pens and grease pencils printing peace slogans and political things on them. Ten of us. We'd print a balloon and just let it go and it would float up and head east, higher and higher. I'll bet some of them reach Denver ... even farther. New York, maybe."

Another hippie, a girl with straight black hair and acne, wearing jeans and a shapeless brown sweater, said, "Hey, can you imagine if one of 'em came down on the White House?"

Paul and Cheryl came downstairs to join us.

We talked about the religious movement in the underground and a withdrawal from the cities.

Paul said, "The trouble with that is we don't know enough about living in the country. There have been communal farms and like that before in this country, but they never really last."

"How about the Amish?"

Paul nodded. "But they're in self-imposed isolation, and even then they have hassles with the establishment over educating their kids."

"That's the way we have to go. It's the only way we'll be able to keep ourselves pure."

Robin said, "We have to make our culture strong and good and workable. Otherwise the plastic will creep in and we'll have lost."

We talked for over an hour. I kept worrying about Owl. Then Robin said to me, "You must be starved. They didn't feed you anything, did they?"

"No. But I'm not hungry."

"Come into the kitchen with me, anyway." She rolled her wheelchair into the dining room, and turned right into the kitchen. I followed. I thought she wanted to reach something down from a shelf for her. But she said quietly, when we were alone, "I'd like for you to stay with me tonight, Lark."

I smiled. "All right. Zeke suggested it, too, staying with you."

She became engagingly officious. "Now, you can't do anything to help Owl, so you might as well stop stewing about him. He's in good hands. Zeke and Rill are wonderful. They know how to help him the most. So you open the refrigerator and get yourself an orange and get me an apple and you make yourself a tuna fish sandwich!"

I had to obey. I couldn't refuse her. Robin's big brown eyes sparkled and her manner was so sweet and stern in such a loving way ... I made myself the sandwich, peeled an orange and ate both in the front room while listening to the discussion.

At eleven Zeke came downstairs and told us Owl was sleeping. Zeke had given him several high potency tablets of one of the B-vitamins, niacinamide, I think he said, and that brought Owl down and put him to sleep. I was relieved.

Robin and I went down the hall to her room.

I went to the bathroom, washed and returned. She did the same. It was painful to watch her dragging her legs as she used her crutches for the short trip.

When Robin returned she nudged the door shut and moved slowly to the bed. She held her white panties bunched in her left hand as she gripped her left crutch. I had already undressed and crawled in. She asked, "Do you mind if I keep a light on?"

"No."

"It's just a night light." She reached to the wall beside the head of the bed and I noticed two switches there. She clicked both. One turned on a small orange bulb that I only noticed in a small wooden base on the floor. The other switch turned out the 100-watt ceiling light.

I said, "I like it." The orange radiance that filled the room wasn't bright at all, but it tinged everything and cast long murky-black shadows. My skin was faintly colored in the gloom.

Robin pulled her kaftan up to her hips, rocked from side to side as she worked it under her hips, then pulled it up and over her head. One instant she had been covered, the next she was naked. Her white skin was orange now.

"How tall are you, Robin?"

"Four foot nine. I'm just a itty-bitty little thing." She folded the garment and put it carefully on a bedside chair. She began to unsnap things as she removed the steel and aluminum brace from her withered right leg.

"Does it hurt to wear that?"

"No. There really isn't much feeling in my legs at all." She positioned the brace next to the chair, within easy reach. Then she reached around, threw the covers aside, lifted her thin, dead legs up to the bed with one hand while bracing herself with the other. She flipped the covers over herself and turned on her hip toward me. She adjusted her pillow. It was a double bed with two pillows. She said lightly, "But I'm not paralyzed between my legs."

I laughed. "That's good!"

She turned onto her back. She pushed the covers down to her tiny waist. Her small, firm breasts poked up beautifully. She began fondling herself. She said, "Do you ever do this? I can see why Rill does. It makes me sexy."

"Once in a while." I pushed the covers down, too, and caressed my larger, but softer breasts. I asked, curious, "Do you masturbate a lot?"

"I do lately, since Blackbird left, and since you've been monopolizing Owl."

"Oh, I'm sorry." A blip-picture of her with Blackbird flashed in my mind, then with Owl. And I had to say, "But Owl's so long ... "

Robin nodded, smiling. "Isn't he? We have to do it on our sides, sort of at right angles, with my legs hanging up over his hips. It's good that way. He stuffs it all in me, too."

"He does? He's almost too much for me. You must stretch like rubber inside."

"I guess I do. It feels like I'm going to split sometimes, but I love it." She tweaked her little nipples till they stood up like orange-red stems. "Lark ... would you like to make love with me?" She had turned her head. Her big brown eyes, shadowed in the dim orange light, were candid and unashamed.

I didn't hesitate. "Yes." I rolled to face her and kissed her waiting, eager mouth. I discovered she has a trick of flipping her tongue in and out of her mouth real fast when she kisses, practically every time, and that she can do it for hours without getting tired.

Her little hands touched my breasts and began plucking my nipples gently. I did the same for her. When the first kiss ended I was getting that want feeling inside. My breasts were alive under fingers sensitive and pleasantly aroused by her touch.

I breathed deeper and asked softly, "How do you want to do it?" I knew enough from my night with Zeke and Rill to be hip to the ways girls can give each other pleasure.

"Anyway you want. I've even got a dildo we can use."

"Really?" I'd never seen one. "What's it like?"

"Just like a man ... " She turned to a bedside chest of drawers and pulled open the middle drawer. She took out a narrow, black cardboard box. ". . . except it's lonely. A lot of the pleasure with a man is being with him, giving and receiving ... you know..." ' She took the top off the box and took out a tissue-wrapped thing and unwrapped it. She handed it to me. ". . . but this is better than nothing if you want more than rubbing your button."

I examined it. It was of molded flesh-colored rubber, and it had a fleshy feel. It would bend and it could be squeezed. The molded part was long as Owl ... about eight inches ... but thicker than him. There was a knob-like handle on the end. It fascinated me. I wanted to try it, but it seemed so perverted! I asked, "Where'd you get it?"

"A butch gave it to Rill and she gave it to me. She'd never use it! But I do once in a while. Sparrow uses it more than me. She goes wild. You ought to see her get all lathered up when I churn away in her with it. We don't have enough men in the tribe. I hope Paul turns out. He and Cheryl are taking Sparrow into their bed tonight when she gets home from work, so we'll find out in the morning."

"Do you want to do that, sixty-nine?"

"Sure." Robin sucked my left nipple for a moment. "Why don't we do everything? I like variety, too. I don't think anything is wrong as long as it feels good. I don't believe in 'sin' at all, at least not in sex. I guess you feel that way, too, don't you?"

"Umhmm." I held the dildo in my hands and stroked its length. It had warmed up in my hands.

Robin noticed the way I handled it. "You want to try it, don't you? But you're a little embarrassed."

I nodded and half giggled.

"Give it here." She took it from me and threw the covers off us both. "Open your legs."

I thought she was going to put it in me, but she pushed herself down and across to inside my thighs and started kissing my belly. She whispered, "I'm going to get you all hot and bothered first."

And she did! She seemed eager to show what she could do, as if she had to prove she was the equal of anyone at making love and giving pleasure in spite of her small size and crippled legs. I got the impression she overcompensates, sort of gives more than she should because she is insecure and is in a way bribing others to like her.

She wriggled lower and kissed my inner thighs and licked my sensitive lips down there and opened me and pressed her mouth to me and sent her swiftly moving tongue against my slippery clitoris. I was squirming. "Oh, Robin!" I simply closed my eyes and enjoyed it. Her tongue moved like lightning, so fast! And I was fizzing inside almost immediately, climbing up to the edge of an orgasm quickly, gasping and panting and wriggling my hips in pleasure. I don't think two minutes went by. I felt the sweet tension gathering in my belly, in my breasts, my brain ... everywhere ... I was panting, moaning, "I'm almost there...."

Then her tongue stopped! Her mouth went away! "Don't stop!" I raised my head.

And felt her nosing the dildo into me. I flopped back and wanted it! She slid it deeper and deeper, more and more, and whispered, "Say when!"

It filled me. It was bulkier than Owl, Its size reminded me of David, and I didn't want to be reminded of him. I let her press it in until it touched my uterus. A weird shiver went through my body. "That's enough!" I raised up on my elbows and looked. I could see better than in the orange light. I could see the quirky little smile on Robin's face, her small hand on the handle of it, and a thick, round inch of the flesh-rubber projecting from my vagina. The rest of it was inside me!

"like it?"

I nodded slowly.

"Want me to finish you with it?"

I was still embarrassed. But the feel of it in me, like Owl, deep, tickling ... I could see that using it while alone would be a sad thing to do, but with someone present, with Robin, there was an interaction, an emotional involvement. In a way Robin was taking the role of a man, someone I loved, and it made a difference. She would be delighted to give me an orgasm this way. So I nodded again and licked my lips and watched as she drew most of it out and pushed it in again, deep! and the shivery contact was made! I caught my breath. She pulled it out. It was glistening. In ... out ... in ... out ... in.....

Faster!

I swallowed and was panting again, on my back again, writhing again, working my hips as she plunged it into me so fast I couldn't match the thrusts. I was beginning to spasm. My belly was clenching. I was rippling inside, loose, tight, wavy, burning!

Robin plunged it even faster! She knew I was coming. She was pistoning it, unable to control the depth, just slamming it, churning it in me! And I could feel it all in me!

A huge shudder jerked my body. A cataclysmic jolt of orgasmic pleasure seared through me. I gasped, screamed, "AHH! ROBIN! ROBINNN-N-N! OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" I thrashed and flailed wildly. She didn't stop! I felt it in my womb! I felt her hand hitting my spread lips down there, thumping my inflamed clitoris! I couldn't stand it!

The pleasure was too strong, too acute! I was clawing the bed, sobbing, half-conscious. Then not even conscious, as a darkness closed in on me and I blacked out. It was only for a few seconds.

Robin was pulling herself up beside me. "Lark? Lark?"

"Yes ... ? " I clasped her to me and kissed her. I was still alive down there, inside, spasming, my belly jumping ... glowing and hurting, too. My uterus had taken a battering. I knew I couldn't let that dildo be used in me too often: I didn't want to end up with cancer of the cervix. But God! What an experience!

Robin pressed herself to me. "You react even better than Sparrow."

I pressed a hand against my lower belly, pressed fingers into the flesh. There were itchy twinges inside. I asked her, "How do you react?"

"I keep it all bottled up inside me I don't scream or anything. But I like it. I have a climax and all, but I don't show it much."

Someone entered the bathroom which was next to Robin's room. The toilet flushed. The stereo continued in the front room. The music was a constant background to our thoughts, words and activities. I had learned to tune it out mostly.

I saw the dildo still in her hand. What a big long thing it was! I was astonished that I had taken it all. I was vaguely ashamed and yet perversely proud. I don't think using it was dirty or a perversion ... it was simply one way of having sex; sort of like one of many possible meals you can eat. It was like Lobster Newberg, not something you want every night, but once in a while. ... I know this is a pretty casual attitude toward sex, but it's the way I feel. like, if you dig it, do it! As long as no one is hurt physically or emotionally, where's the harm? Most of the "harm" is in getting all up-tight about these things.

I asked Robin, "Do you want me to use it on you?"

"Yes, for a minute. Then, would you go down on me?"

"Of course." I kissed her again and stroked her thin little body and lowered my head to suck her tiny, projecting nipples. As I suckled she caressed my hair and whispered, "Oh, I like that."

After a few minutes I slipped down her orange-light-stained body, kissing as I went, trying to be "artistic" and sophisticated. I took the dildo from her hand and put it aside on the covers for a moment.

I put my palm on her small mound. Her brown pubic hair was like curly silk and very sparse. The lips of her pussy were clearly visible. I kissed the fringe of hair. Her legs were so terribly thin and emaciated! I asked, "Will it hurt if I move your legs?"

"No. Do anything you want with them. They're in the way all the time. Sometimes I wish I could have them cut off."

"Don't feel that way." I parted her legs and moved between. I did for her as she had done for me with her tongue licked the lips of her pussy, then used my thumbs to pull the lips open. I pressed my mouth against the exposed pink-orange flesh and fluttered my tongue into the opening. I searched with its tip for her clitoris. I found it immediately, a small firm button that hardened more as I licked it.

She didn't respond very much physically. Just a slight tremor in her belly, and a twitching of muscles ... but her breathing quickened and she whispered again, "Oh, I like that!"

I couldn't get over the smallness of her body. She was so much like a ten-year-old child! Yet she was twenty-two ... a woman.

I reached for the dildo and pressed it lightly against her belly as I continued to lick her clitoris. It was a question. She whispered, "Yes, in a minute ... when I tell you."

So I continued and knew she was approaching a climax. Her hands reached for her dead legs and pulled them up, knees wide and high, making it easier for me. And after a few seconds she said, "Put it in!"

I grasped the thing by the knob-handle and put the head of it in my mouth to wet it for her. I didn't want to hurt her. I pushed the head of it gently against her moist pussy. The lips parted under the slight pressure and the head eased in. I pressed again and felt the resistance of her vaginal opening as it stretched to encompass the size of the rubber glans. Then the head was fully in her and I pushed it deeper, curious to see how much she could take.

I did it slowly; in an inch, out an inch, in two inches, out an inch, in another two inches ... There didn't seem to be any bottom to her! She was taking it! As I pushed it in and out, deeper until only about two inches was left, it looked as if a giant was imbedded in her small body.

Her chest rose and fell swiftly. I could see her pert left breast tremble with her heartbeat. I had to ask, "Too much?"

"No ... go ahead."

I pressed it in until I felt resistance, until she couldn't take any more of it, and only a fingerwidth of the white-colored rubber base wasn't in her. It was almost lost in the thin body! I believed then she could take Owl! She could take anybody!

I turned it in her, experimentally, and she shivered. I pulled it out and plunged it back in, twisting it, spinning it by the handle. She trembled. I continued doing that, slowly increasing the speed, until she was gasping and whispered intensely, "That's enough!"

I pulled it out of her and fastened my mouth to her open pussy again. She made a sweet pleasure sound when my tongue fluttered against her clitoris again. When she came she seemed to pulse inside. I could feel it with my hand on her belly. She panted and touched my head with her hands, and made small, urgent coital moves with her narrow hips, then slowly relaxed and whispered, "That's enough for now ... "

I crawled up beside her and we sighed and talked about it. We both admitted we liked more than one orgasm, and we knew we'd be at it again in a half hour or so.

It happened that way, too. We talked about the tribe, ourselves, other hippie groups, the movement, the future, the country, all kinds of things.

Then Robin casually began touching me and I touched her ... we fingered each other, decided to put away the dildo for the night, and tried the 69 position. It was wild. I got tired before she did. I had at least four orgasms before we quit and went to sleep in each other's arms.