Chapter 4

Her head under the shower as she worked shampoo through her hair, Lucille wondered, ‘How do I stop this?’ But she couldn’t come up with an answer -- and a big part of the reason was that she just couldn’t get behind the idea. She was sore -- but the sense of fulfillment and satisfaction that went with that soreness permeated her and made it impossible to approach difficult subjects like her betrayal of the trust the agency had placed in her. The time would come when she had to face that issue -- and the implications for herself and Kanye -- but this wasn’t it. She got clean -- and took a douche to clean out the flood of semen that her vagina insisted upon hanging onto -- then dressed for the day. After that, she stripped the bed -- there was a HUGE wet spot, one that had bled through the bedspread, the comforter, the blanket, both sheets, the mattress pad and on to the mattress itself! Lucille grimaced and got out a waterproof mattress cover. She had them around for clients, but had never put one on her own bed. ‘I’ll let this dry first -- maybe use a hair dryer on it,’ she decided, looking at the stain. She didn’t give any thought at all to the unconscious assumption that she was going to NEED that waterproof cover; it never occurred to her to look at the basis for that assumption. She just took care of the issue, preparing to prevent future occurrences.

Oddly, she gave no thought to a more serious, somewhat related issue...

Lucille wasn’t on birth control. She wasn’t seeing anyone and she wasn’t having sex with anyone -- why bother to mess up her menstrual cycle? That had been the situation for the past several years, and the fact that things had changed radically -- and that she, herself, unconsciously realized that it was likely to be an ongoing situation -- didn’t surface as a matter for concern. In fact, it didn’t surface at all.

The reason had everything to do with the war between her conscious and unconscious minds. Consciously, she was going to take action to terminate her relationship with Kanye -- for his own good, of course. Her unconscious, however was snickering at her. Now that they were having mind-blowing sex, Kanye was going exactly NOWHERE! Kanye was her mate! She wanted him and he wanted her and that was that! High-minded objections were window-dressing. As for birth control -- what good was having a mate and mating with him if you didn’t reproduce? Well, there was the sex, of course, but true fulfillment meant motherhood. Yes, she’d done it before -- the whole ride, right past the point where she released her children to become adults. So what? Everything still worked ... Where did it say in the manual that you only did the thing once? This thing she was doing -- taking in people with special needs who required large amounts of help -- was a substitute for motherhood. Lucille wanted more children -- and Kanye was MORE than well equipped to give them to her!

Kanye expected Lucille to go all noble on him at breakfast -- but she didn’t. He, himself, knew better than to initiate the conversation. When it DID occur, he intended to crush it. But Saturday wore on, and they did things, both on their own and together -- and the subject didn’t come up. Kanye started to worry -- had Lucille gone behind his back? Was Mr. Mattingly suddenly going to show up to help him pack his things? He projected calm and confidence, but inside, he worried.

Lucille waited until after dinner. “Kanye, about last night...”

“Yes?” Kanye projected polite interest -- and that was it. He wanted Lucille to carry the ball -- so he could spike it.

“That ... can’t happen again.”

Kanye frowned. “Can’t? I think that’s the wrong word.”

“No, I mean, really, it can’t.”

“No, it can. It happened once, so it CAN happen again. It may not...”

“Um, okay, I guess...” Lucille was thrown off-guard by the ‘Can I?’ versus ‘May I?’ thing, where she was expecting direct opposition. “What I meant was that it should not.”

“Why not?” Kanye went on the attack, getting up and moving to stand over her. “What we do in the privacy of our own bedroom is nobody else’s business.”

“I’m in a position of trust...”

“ ... And I’m an adult. Blind isn’t mentally deficient. You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, maybe things go the other way!”

Lucille rocked a bit; Kanye had taken her biggest gun out of action. After a moment, she fell back on, “We have no future. I’m twice your age...”

“We don’t NEED a future!” Kanye retorted. “We have a PRESENT! Where is the guy who is SUPPOSED to be handling your action? Where is the woman who is supposed to be handling mine? Do you see them? I don’t. I don’t know if a woman my age can keep up with me! But I bet YOU can!”

“I don’t know...” Lucille’s excuses were in tatters -- and they WERE excuses, she realized.

“Was sex big with you when you were my age?” Kanye asked.

Lucille frowned. “Maybe not. Motherhood kind of got in the way.”

“Once I realized what I was missing -- thank you for that -- I did some research. Women are more focused on romance than sex early on -- they’re feathering the nest, as well as filling it.” He stepped forward and swept his arm out, quite naturally, to find her shoulder and slide his hand on up to rub her neck. “Sex is scary, and then it’s a way to go wild for a short time -- a period that ends in pregnancy. Then the whole thing backs off for a while. Over time, though, you learn to live with it. The kids are less and less trouble, and you have a steady guy -- or maybe you don’t but you go looking. Pregnancy isn’t scary and you start looking forward to the pleasure more and more.”

“Sometimes, you just do without,” Lucille croaked.

“That makes it all more urgent, too, doesn’t it?” Kanye said gently. “You want it and you fight for it, because you want it to be good.”

“Yeah.” Lucille couldn’t argue. Kanye’s hand, rubbing her neck, felt so good...

“My research says that as women get older, they want it more -- and they can tolerate it better. Guys, on the other hand, peak early, and slowly fade. I need a lot of woman. You’re a lot of woman.”

“I sure am!” Lucille forced an embarrassed chuckle. “I’m fat!”

Kanye squatted before her, collecting her head in both hands. That she was a blur didn’t matter -- his eyes held hers. “Do you have any idea how little that matters to me?” Then his lips found hers...

Lucille’s defenses failed totally. She gave herself to the kiss -- and to Kanye. When he rose after the kiss, she rose with him -- and took his hand, leading him to her bedroom.

They started out standing, kissing and caressing as they removed each other’s clothing. Kanye’s fingers were deft in spite of the lack of visual support. Lucille’s bra hooks presented a momentary issue, but he worked his way through it. Lucille stepped back and got out of her own pants, leaving her panties for Kanye to remove. Then she stepped back in to resume kissing him.

Lucille undid Kanye’s pants, reaching inside them for his already erect staff of pleasure, running her hand up and down the firm shaft, gripping it, and rubbing her thumb over the plush, moist tip. Kanye groaned and pulled her against him, gripping her upper arms fiercely while he pumped his tongue through her lips as if he was fucking her mouth with it. She sucked his tongue hungrily for a moment, until he relaxed his grip, then shifted her hands to his hips to slide his pants down his legs, bending, then squatting as he released her. Kanye threw his shirt over his head. He knew what was coming next...

Lucille surprised him by stopping to remove his shoes before helping him completely out of his pants and underwear. He’d expected her to push his pants to his ankles and lean in to suck his cock immediately. This was better, though, he realized; he was stripped down and ready for action. The delay was only momentary before her hand gripped the base of his shaft, orienting it, and soft lips rolled over his glans, feeding it into a hot, wet mouth. Kanye settled his hands over her hair, not pressing her, just letting her work, guiding a bit with mere touches to let her know what felt best. He sensed, though, after a minute or two, that that wasn’t entirely satisfactory for Lucille, so he took more control. Her responses told him that he was on the right track, so he ramped things up, slowly.

Lucille didn’t know where the imperative came from, but it was there. Early in her marriage, she’d put her foot down regarding control of a blowjob when her husband had choked her a bit with his cock, more or less accidentally. That restriction had remained in place until that desperate few weeks when she was trying to hold Roger’s interest and avoid divorce. During that period, she discovered something she considered to be a quirk in her makeup; the more demanding Roger got during sex, the more satisfaction it brought her to fulfill his requirements. He had choked her with his cock regularly during blowjobs -- something he demanded several times more often than during their marriage to that point -- and Lucille had found herself to be paradoxically aroused by the abuse and rough handling. This had been a help, temporarily, allowing her to overcome her reticence where other sex acts were concerned -- such as anal sex, something they had not participated in before then. Lucille hoped at the time that her acceptance of rough treatment might help Roger deal with his anger and resentment, but there was more to the situation than just those issues. Later, she discovered that Roger was already seeing another woman -- one who was adept at practices she was just learning to deal with. While her new attitude may have put off the end for a short period, in the end it just wasn’t enough. Roger moved on -- and Lucille experienced a reaction to having abased herself that shut her off from further sexual activity. Frankly, she feared what might happen if some man she met in a bar learned that, if pressed, she could become a pliant slut...

But Kanye had already triggered her ‘quirk’ by taking control of their sexual activities. Having overridden her defenses, he was now in control -- and that more or less naturally led to Lucille going all out. She wanted him to take from her; she wanted to give herself to him. She wanted him to know that boundaries were for him to set, not her. So she rubbed the backs of his thighs, not fighting him at all as she worked to avoid choking and gagging while accepting more and more of his length in her mouth and throat. It wasn’t something she’d practiced much at all, and certainly not in a long time. For that matter, Roger had been nowhere near as gifted in the cock department as Kanye, although he’d been of at least normal size. If Kanye could have seen her red, drooling face, her mouth distorted by the thick black shaft filling it, he might have been horrified -- but he was dealing with her responses, how she FELT under his hands -- and she wasn’t fighting him, even when she was fighting herself. No, she was encouraging him to go to greater lengths...

... And that’s what she was getting -- greater lengths! Kanye’s limited experience with porn didn’t tell him that he was pushing Lucille beyond the pale -- frankly, it wasn’t as if he’d had the occasion to put a tape measure up against his dick to determine how long it was. Choking and gagging seemed to be expected -- and Lucille hadn’t backed off to vomit or anything. If she’d put up anything resembling serious resistance, he would have backed off. But more and more of Kanye’s ebony shaft disappeared between Lucille’s stretched, swollen lips until, after several minutes’ worth of dedicated effort, Lucille’s lips wrapped themselves around the root of Kanye’s shaft, her nose in his wiry pubes.

Kanye was aware that this was an accomplishment, though -- and would have been if his cock had any length to it at all, so he praised her with, “Yeah, Baby! That’s my girl! You’re fucking amazing!” These weren’t the kinds of things Kanye said normally, but having your cock bathed from tip to root in a hot mouth and throat tend to bring out the most basic level of response in a man.

Gazing up at him through watery eyes, Lucille felt a wave of rapture wash over her, her pussy clenching and rippling in something that wasn’t quite an orgasm -- but certainly came close. She backed off to croak, “Was it good?”

“Yes! Amazing!”

“Take it.” She fed his cock into her mouth again, taking half, approximately, then backing off to suck his glans before adding, “Give me your cum. Please?”

“Okay...”

“Do ... whatever. I like it.”

“Fine.” He collected his head and began slowly pumping her face, thinking, ‘I’ll be a little careful... ‘

He wasn’t, though. Oh, he started out that way, but as he slowly ramped things up, he realized what was going on. She was there to give -- and it was his job to take, so he took ... everything. He held her head and fucked her face -- not rapidly, because that wouldn’t do the job for either of them, but at a steady pace. He didn’t force her throat on every stroke, but he did it regularly, sometimes only for an inch or two, but sometimes he made sure her tongue could wash his balls with his cock down her throat. Mostly, though, he fed her his cock, moving smoothly, pressing it deep enough to feel the tight grip of the opening of her throat on the flange of his glans.