I encouraged my father to reconcile with Uncle Tom and Cousin Emily. Daddy had ostracized my uncle and cousin because of their incestuous relationship. It took far more than words to persuade Daddy to mend fences but the important thing is that they are speaking to one another again. And Daddy and I have become even closer as a result. We all just had a simply wonderful time up at Uncle Tom's cabin. The latest dilemma in my life had just been resolved more than favorably.
Feeling better about myself, I decided the time was now right to visit my doctor lover Mark in San Francisco. He had again become the focus of my every thought. I kept dreaming of the love we had shared so intensely but so briefly after he rescued me from the accident and the freezing cold. That was now more than a year ago. Something had subtly changed in our long-distance relationship lately but I couldn't put my finger on it. I blamed it on me. Being drugged and sexually victimized by that gang of black football players had affected me greatly.
I met a real character on the flight to San Francisco. Henry was eighty-eight and told me he had a terminal illness and only a few months to live. Very tall and distinguished looking with white hair and a matching neatly trimmed beard. He wore a very expensive charcoal gray suit with a blue button-down shirt and black tie with some sort of emblem on it. I tried to visualize what he might have looked like when he was my age. Very handsome I imagined. Henry had no family and had chosen to spend his last days in San Francisco, the city of his youth. I could tell he was very lonely.
Henry entertained me with stories about the famous people he had known during his long life. Most of them had passed away but he made them come alive to me. He had known the late Ruth Handler, co-founder of Mattel and creator of the Barbie doll. I thought about telling him about my cousin Emily and how we went from playing with Barbie to playing with each other. Yes, Emily had gone from touching Barbie's pussy to fondling mine. And then I did the same to her. Emily and I laughed about it when we rekindled our relationship at Uncle Tom's cabin. But I decided I didn't know Henry well enough yet to talk dirty, and besides, he looked like the sort that might spank me for being a bad girl if only he were a little younger.
Sixty some years ago Henry had a brief career in the major leagues. He roomed for a time with Enos Slaughter, a Hall of Fame player and legendary hell-raiser. But World War II and a severe bullet wound to his knee from a Nazi pistol ended that. Henry related he was being tortured at the time. Another of his friends who recently passed away was Abba Eban, the diplomat who persuaded the United Nations to approve the creation of a Jewish state in 1948. Eban got Henry involved in the business of espionage and counter-intelligence. Later he became a soldier of fortune and then a private detective.
"Tell me about some of your favorite cases and people," I pleaded.
Most of his private dick work, Henry joked, occurred in and around L.A., where the real action was. He had partied and smoked a few joints with Robert Mitchum a week before he got busted with actress Lila Leeds and a few others on marijuana charges in 1948. He did some investigative work for Lana Turner in 1958 that helped get her fourteen-year-old daughter Cheryl Crane off the hook for stabbing gangster Johnny Stompanato to death with a kitchen knife. Justifiable homicide so ruled the jury in twenty minutes.
Henry had known Joe DiMaggio quite well. They got together whenever Henry came to San Francisco. Joe introduced him to Marilyn Monroe. Henry's eyes brightened as he talked of her. Then Henry shocked me with his tale that the Kennedy's had Marilyn killed to silence her and that DiMaggio knew who had President Kennedy assassinated and it wasn't Lee Harvey Oswald, the mafia, Castro, the CIA, or the FBI. DiMaggio knew because he had hired Henry to do an unofficial clandestine investigation into the deaths of Monroe and Kennedy to satisfy his own doubts. But Henry wouldn't tell me much more, other than the fatal dose of Nembutal that killed Marilyn in 1962 had not been willingly ingested by her but administered by enema by another.
I had no reason not to believe him. But this sounded too incredulous. My female intuition usually lets me know when a man is trying to deceive me. Unfortunately, I don't always pay attention to it. Henry had no reason to impress me with untruths. I mean, it's not like he wanted to seduce me or anything.
As the plane landed Henry pulled out his wallet. "Here, my dear, I want you to have this." He handed me ten crisp one-hundred dollar bills.
"Huh? "What is... uh... this... uh... for?" I stuttered in surprise.
"I have more money than I can possibly spend, especially since I won't be around much longer. No family. Most of my friends are dead. I have thoroughly enjoyed the brief time we have spent together talking, Annie. With this money I would like you to buy yourself a lovely new dress and allow me the great honor of taking you to dinner during your stay in San Francisco. At your convenience of course. I know a fabulous French cuisine establishment."
"I'd like that, Henry. Mark, the man I told you about, will be working some of the time so I'm sure we can get together for dinner. I just hope you don't make Mark jealous, you cute old coot! And I definitely want to hear more of your wild and crazy stories." I laughed gaily and gave Henry a little peck on the cheek and squeeze as we departed the plane at San Francisco International Airport.
Mark met me at the airport and we embraced and kissed. But it just wasn't the same. The words he spoke were the right ones but something just didn't ring true.
"Annie, I missed you so much! It's been so long since we held each other. I love you, my darling." I detected just a slight trace of insincerity.
Once in Mark's car, I attacked him. "Mark, find the first somewhat secluded spot and park. Unless you want me to give you a blow job while you're driving. There is a certain amount of thrill to that possibility but I don't want to cause an accident."
"Annie, we need to talk about the sex," Mark cautioned. "I think we should remain celibate with respect to each other until we are married."
"Married? You haven't proposed to me. Where does this new found morality come from? Mark, I want you in my mouth. Right now. And I want you in my pussy soon. It's all I've been thinking about."
"What we did that time happened, Annie, we can't change that. I don't want to change it. But I must insist that a repeat performance wait until we are husband and wife if that is where we are headed with our relationship. No, I have not proposed to you... yet. I have a little present for you. Not a ring... yet... but something I hope you'll like." Mark put the chain with the heart pendant around my neck. "It belonged to my grandmother."
"It's beautiful, Mark. I love it! It looks expensive. Thank you so very much. I have a present for you, too. It's between my legs. I want it to be yours forever, my love."
"All in due time, Annie."
Very disappointed, I insisted, "Tell me about this change in your perspective regarding pre-marital sexual relations, Mark."
"Let's just say I have seen the light."
"I want to see the lights too. While you are making love to me and hitting my G-spot just right like you did before. Please, Mark?"
"No, Annie. We must wait." I sulked and pouted and remained quiet all the way to Mark's apartment.
"Nice place," I finally spoke miserably as we entered.
"Yes, I like it. Annie, I have to work the second shift in the ER at the hospital and must leave soon. Here's a key. I'll meet you back here at midnight. My friend Robert is going to entertain you in my absence. Take you sightseeing. Dinner. Whatever you would like to do."
"What I would like, Mark, is for you to make love to me."
"I think you already said that, Annie. We'll talk about it more when we meet later. Okay?"
"I guess I don't have much choice. I'm not real crazy about being led around the city by a stranger." I moved close to Mark and reached for his zipper. "You didn't become a eunuch did you? Let me have a look, doctor. I want to make sure you still have the package. Let me be your own personal head nurse." I unzipped him.
Mark pulled away. "What part of 'no' don't you understand, Annie? And Robert is no stranger. He's been one of my best friends for years. And you don't have to worry about him hitting on you. He's gay."
"Gay? Wonderful. I have a date with a faggot."
"Annie! Shame on you!"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mark. I'm just totally frustrated by these new developments."
"It will be for the best, Annie. You'll see."
"I sure hope so but I fucking doubt it."
"Annie! You know I don't like to hear that kind of language from you."
"Sorry." I thought, what is your fucking problem? Mark was pissing me off. My red hair would have stood on end if it wasn't so curly.
"Here's Robert now." Mark introduced us. Robert began to irritate me right from the beginning. He had this nasal high-pitched voice that reminded me of fingernails scraping on a chalk board. Mark and I confirmed that we would rendezvous back at the apartment about midnight. He left for work and I reluctantly left with Robert.
Robert informed me he worked as a dress designer. That figured. But it was the first thing he said that interested me much. I asked him to take me to his favorite boutiques. I wanted to spend that thousand dollars Henry had given me on a new dress. Clothes seem to be the only thing that takes my mind off sex.
Trying on expensive designer eveningwear put me in a better mood temporarily. Robert talked me into a very bright lime green long-sleeved and belted mini-skirt. "Day-glo shades in Crayola-like hues are what's happening," he pointed out. "Calvin Klein, Christian Dior, Marc Jacobs, Prada, and Versace are all going in that direction. Look how your red hair contrasts with this dress! And it magnificently displays your long lovely legs," he concluded.
"You sound like you would like one of these dresses for yourself," I snapped viciously. I was still ticked off at Mark and any friend of his was not a friend of mine at the moment. Besides, Robert irritated the hell out of me. But he was right about the dress. I bought it with Henry's money and couldn't wait to show it to my ancient but charming new friend. I knew he would really like it. I decided to wear it rather than put back on my jeans and sweater.
As we walked out of the boutique, I muttered, "Robert, I don't feel well." Actually, I felt fine, other than being totally sexually frustrated. I couldn't stand Robert's company any longer. What a whiney little twerp. I could hardly believe this nauseating queer was a good friend of Mark's. "Please drop me back at Mark's apartment, Robert. I need to lie down and rest. I sprained my ankle and hurt my back in a skiing accident recently."
"Uh... uh... I can't... uh... take you back to Mark's place."
"Why the hell not, Robert?"
"Don't get angry with me, Annie. You scare me when you scowl like that. I don't want Mark to know I didn't do what he said to do. You know, entertain you until he gets home at midnight from his shift at the ER."
"That's silly, Robert. Why would Mark care?"
"He will care, believe you me," Robert insisted, looking very nervous and upset by my request. "Please, isn't there somewhere else you could go until he gets home from work?"
"I simply do not understand why you are making such a big fucking deal about this, Robert. But okay, I don't feel like fucking arguing about it with you." I'm sure the expression on my face reflected the fact that I just might choke this dingy little shit at any moment if he didn't shut up. And I was quite sure I could kick his sorry reamed-out skinny ass without much effort. "Drop me at Vantage Court. I have a friend who is staying there."
Robert sighed in relief as I got out of his car at the entrance of the hotel. But Henry wasn't in. Must have went out to dinner or something. I hailed a cab and went to Mark's apartment. Mark had given me the key and I still didn't understand what Robert's problem was with me going there.
Inside the apartment, I flipped on the TV in Mark's bedroom and sat in a chair next to a window. Occasionally I glanced outside. It had started to drizzle. The sound of the rain and the memory of what had transpired thus far in my reunion with Mark began to depress me considerably. The rain began to rattle like machine-gun fire against the window.
And then I saw Mark's car pull into a parking space on the street. I wondered why he came home from work so early. His shift couldn't be over. It had only been several hours. Mark and another man got out of the car. They snuggled up against one another and Mark had his hand on the other man's ass. As they reached the front door of the building they paused momentarily and kissed passionately for a few moments. Oh my God, I thought, what in the world is going on here?
The shock of what I had just seen made me shake and break into a cold sweat. I almost fainted and fetched the smelling salts inhaler in my purse and I revived myself somewhat with a whiff of the ammonia spirit. I hid in the closet. The doors had louvers such that I could peak into the bedroom when my eyes were at the right angle.
About ten minutes later Mark and the other man came into the bedroom. They had drinks in their hands.
"Mark," the other man spoke in a very feminine voice, "you look frazzled. Let me give you a blow job."
"I am really on edge, Felix," Mark replied. "The woman I told you about who came to visit me got very upset when I said I didn't want to have sex with her."
Felix laughed. "I can imagine! What do you want with some dumb cunt, anyway? All they do is bitch and whine." Felix reached for Mark's zipper and pulled it down. Mark didn't pull away like he did when I did the same thing. Soon Mark's pants were off and Felix knelt in front of him.
I watched in horror as Felix sucked Mark's cock. I had seen a man perform fellatio on a man before in the movie of my exploits in the locker room with the football team. But this totally disgusted me and I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming out. This was my man who had his penis, not in my mouth like I had hoped and dreamed, but instead in the mouth of another man.
Felix took Mark's penis in his mouth and slid his moistened tongue lovingly over the head until his lips closed around the shaft at the point just behind the corona as he cupped Mark's balls with one hand and stroked the shaft with the other. "Now fuck my mouth, lover," Felix requested, momentarily pulling Mark's cock out, but continuing to fondle it with his hands. "You don't need pussy, lover. Let my mouth be your love tunnel. I want your nectar. Give it to me, Mark. Slam it home, honey. You know how I like it--hard and fast."
"Yes, you are my sweet little bitch, Felix. I'll give you what you want. I'll give it to you good." Mark slid his cock in and out of Felix's mouth violently, as if he wanted to pound right through the man's skull. "This is how the Romans liked their fellatio," Mark muttered excitedly. He kept mumbling something about Emperor Hadrian and the Greek youth Antinuous who became his boy-toy as moved his penis back and forth rapidly with his hips without moving his knees. Felix moved his head up and back to meet Mark's thrusts eagerly and seemed to have little difficulty getting it all down his throat.
Mark began to grunt loudly each time his balls met Felix's chin and it didn't look like this was going to take long. He began to pull the little cock sucker's head down on him harder and harder. Finally Mark let out a blood-curdling yell that alerted me it was time to close my eyes. I couldn't bear to watch this part. The sounds told me Mark was shooting his load down Felix's throat.
"That was a great fuck and suck," Mark soon reported smugly. "Best I ever had, Felix." I opened my eyes again. Mark had his cock in his hand which still dribbled cum on his lover's face. Then he knelt down and licked the cum off Felix's lip and face that had not been swallowed.
The two reclined on the bed and embraced and kissed and spoke terms of endearment to one another which I can't even stand to repeat. After about fifteen minutes of this, Mark got another erection and Felix began to suck him again, but not to orgasm. "Okay, Mark, my love, do me in the ass. I want your hard beautiful cock deep inside me. Make me beg for mercy like only you can do. Fuck me in the heiny hole, lover. Hump me in the back door just like you did to my mouth. Please, baby, please?"
Mark told Felix to get on the floor on all fours and stick his sweet ass up in the air. "Put the lube on my cock, Felix. You'll need it. I'm going cram your crack like you never had it. You can barely talk from me fucking your mouth and soon you'll be able to barely walk from me fucking your ass. You know, I never did that chick, Annie, in the ass. I should. Maybe that would shut her up."
Felix reached behind himself and rubbed up Mark's stiff member. "This is Trojan passion berry gel personal lubricant," Felix purred. "I've been dying to try it. It has a light sensual aroma. I'll lick it off your dick after you bang my bung hole. You're ready now, baby, and so am I. Do me dirty!"
I sat down in the closet, closed my eyes, covered my ears with my hands, and cried silently.
When I knew they had finished I stood up and peaked out again. Mark placed a chain with a pendant around Felix's neck. Just like the one I wore. Fourteen carat white gold pendant with heart-shaped moissanite and six round cut diamonds. "It was my grandmother's, Felix. Just a little something to let you know how much I love you."
"Let me show you once more how much I love you, Mark." Felix reached for Mark's penis and knelt and put it in his mouth again.
An hour later the pair left. Stumbling out of the closet with weak knees, I yanked the chain and heart pendant from around my neck. Picking up a piece of paper and pen from the dresser, I wrote a note shakily. "Mark, I know about you and Felix. I never want to see you or hear from you again. Annie." I placed the pendant and the note and the key on the mussed up bed where Mark had just had his lover Felix.
Broken hearted, I hailed a cab and went back to Henry's hotel. He was in his room this time. I burst into tears and told him the whole story.
"Oh, Annie, that's terrible!" Henry sympathized. "I'm so sorry. Stay here with me for awhile. Until you have to fly home if you wish. I'll show you around this beautiful city and spoil you terribly. Promise."
"Do you like the dress, Henry?" I asked, trying to change the subject and block the memory of what I had just witnessed from my mind as best I could. "I bought it with the money you gave me."
"It's lovely, Annie, and so are you. If only I were about fifty years younger. Stay here with me I'll you'll have an entire new wardrobe by the time you leave. And I hope many wonderful memories of my beloved San Francisco. Don't let what just happened ruin your vacation. Let me help make you feel better. I'm very fond of you although we just met."
"Can I call you Grandpa?" I joked. I felt better already. Henry gave me a sedative and I slept and slept and slept.
The next morning I had made up my mind. Why should my trip to San Francisco be a total disaster? Yes, having Henry show me the sights seemed like a good idea. And I love being spoiled. There were several other dresses in that boutique that had caught my eye.
Besides, I liked Henry's room. Not really a room--a junior suite. Frescoes on the wall. Two king-sized beds with Frette linens but I slept with him. Why mess up both beds? We didn't do anything of course. Henry couldn't because of old age and his various medical maladies. I made no particular effort to be modest about my body and Henry admired me appreciatively when I paraded around the room in bra and panties or a towel. The hotel was ideally located in the heart of downtown. Near Union Square and the Moscone Convention Center. I looked forward to more shopping in Ghiradelli Square.
Henry showed me all the sites. The Cable Car Barn and Museum bored me a little but the Morrison Planetarium was awesome. I took the turbo ride at Pier 39 but Henry said his heart couldn't take it. Sitting and watching the seals I muttered under my breath, "Right about now I'm so horny I could fuck a seal."
"What did you say?" Henry asked.
We spent a lot of time in Chinatown and at Fisherman's Wharf. The bay looks so truly beautiful from the wharf. I didn't particularly want to go to Alcatraz but he dragged me there anyway. When we drove across Golden Gate Bridge the orange shape had just peaked above the rolling fog off the bay. We went to Hyde Street Pier and marveled at America's only floating national park which features a large collection of historic ships.
One afternoon late in my stay Henry said he had some business to take care of with his attorney and sent me off to the San Francisco Zoo by myself. I started with the rock hyrax exhibit and the pigmy zebu. The giraffe feeding station and penguin island were fascinating. I even found the Egyptian spiny-tailed lizards, pancake lizards and scheltopusiks of considerable interest. But the best had to be the primate center. And there I met Eric.
I stood in front of the Barbary Ape exhibit when Eric approached me. "See how these apes pout?" he asked in a friendly tone of voice.
"Yes," I agreed, "what are they angry about?" I wondered if I looked like them due to my own pouting as of late.
"That's a warning to keep your distance. Look at their teeth chatter. They do this to calm down after confrontations. They are also known to eat their young."
"Yes, cannibals. I've done some research on cannibals. While I did missionary work in Central and South America."
"How interesting," I commented, brushing up against him as if by accident. "Sorry. I didn't mean to bump you. My ankle is weak. Skiing incident. Actually I was walking back to the cabin in heels after just spending hours on a difficult run and I twisted my ankle on the icy driveway." He smiled magnificently. I had noticed this handsome young man sitting on a bench writing in a notebook. Now I could smell the Crave by Calvin Klein on him. That scent really turns me on. I noticed the nice bulge in his Pepe jeans. Yes, crave, indeed. If he was into cannibals I mused to myself about the possibility that he might like to eat me.
"My name is Eric," he offered.
"Mine is Annie. I saw you writing. Are you taking notes of the ape's behavior?"
"No. I'm a novelist. I do my best work in environments like this. Don't know exactly why but sitting at a desk in my apartment doesn't get my juices flowing."
We sat on the bench where he had been and talked for an hour about this and that. He told me proudly about the three novels he had published and his current work-in-progress. Science fiction stuff which doesn't normally appeal to me but I hung on his every word.
I put my hand gently on his thigh. "Eric?"
"I'm going to make a very... uh... you might think... uh... unusual request of you, Eric. I have never engaged in casual sex." At least if I'm not drugged first I thought, recalling my sexual exploitation by the football players in the locker room. "But for reasons I'd prefer not to discuss I am... uh... in need of... uh... sex. There, I said it. In fact, I'm desperate." Eric looked rather shocked. "I want it right now. There is a somewhat secluded spot in the area just behind us. I'd like to go behind those trees and bushes and have sex with you, Eric."
"Annie," he replied softly, "you are a very beautiful woman. Many men could only fantasize about a request like you just made to me. But I am afraid I can not do what you ask."
"Why not, Eric?" I blurted in surprise. "I have condoms in my purse if that's why you're concerned about."
"No, it's not that, Annie. I have many female friends but no female lovers."
I could feel the flush in my face and the nauseous feeling in my stomach, seeing vividly the recent discovery about my lover, Mark. "I should have known," I murmured in a barely audible voice. "What does a girl have to do to get laid in this city? Damn, are all the good looking guys fucking queers?" I screamed. Several people standing nearby heard my outburst and stared.
"Now, Annie, don't be upset. Why don't you try L.A.? I'm sure you can find a real man there, like Jack Nicholson," he joked. "San Francisco does have that reputation of being a haven for fucking queers, as you put."