Scene 5: September 1980 - A Connecticut Mansion

"Where is she!" yelled Phil at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing in the vast entrance hall of his parent's estate.

"Where's who?" smirked his mother, her face belying her lack of knowledge, as she entered from the kitchen.

"You know fucking who!" yelled Phil.

"Son!" bellowed his father, entering from the library, his face surprisingly sad. "Quiet down and respect your mother!"

Phil laughed wildly. "Right. Respect the bitch who fucked up my life. Where is she, Mother? Where's Marisol?"

"That tramp?"

"Bitch," grumbled his father.

"What did you say, Junior?"

"Nothing."

"I fucking hate you," grumbled Phil. "Who's the tramp? She doesn't go around hiring some poor stud to play with her sagging old dugs."

"Phil!" yelled his father.

"What? And you, hiring people to fuck and ... everything else, including keeping me from getting in the way of your life. You and Mother both should never have been allowed to breed, you pathetic monsters! Now, would you mind telling me where the fuck you sent her?"

"Yes, Phil," his mother smirked cruelly, "I would mind. She's nothing to you, or should be. She's a fucking trained whore, right dear? Let me make this completely clear. If you see her again, you're cut off, right Junior?"

His father grumbled. His mother repeated, "Right dear?"

"You loved her too, you piece of shit," said Phil to his father. "As much as you could with your shriveled up old heart. You know how incredible she is."

"I wish I'd never brought her here," his father grumbled pathetically.

"You mean you wish you never bought her. She's not a fucking slave."

"Of course she is, dear," said his mother. "Bought and paid for and ungrateful as sin."

Phil laughed hysterically. "God, you're like colonial or something or wish you were. You wish you could buy niggers to beat and fuck whenever you fucking felt like. Not wish. You do that. You buy some nigger slave, some Latina beauty, some fucking Swedish dish desperate enough to succumb to your greed and vanity and lust! Where! Is! She!"

"You'll never find out," yelled his mother. "And if you do, you'll regret it."

"She's right son," said his father quietly. "We'll cut you off completely."

"Why? Jealousy?"

"You might think the sun rises and sets out of her ass, son," spoke his father with surprising crudeness. "But Martha's right. She's a mistress, that's it, born and raised. She's not one of us."

"Let's make it clear. I'm not one of you. I don't look at everyone and reflect on them and see if they properly reflect me. I'm not going to look for a woman to marry only because she's of the proper blood and rank. That's just fucking ridiculous."

"Breeding and blood is everything, Phil," pronounced his mother.

"It's nothing. It's what's in the soul, in the heart that counts. It's the character of a man or a woman that counts, not where they're from, from whom they popped out or where they grew up. Pure breeds are sick, Mother. Mutts are vital and strong. I love her dusky skin, her deep brown eyes, her tremendous inner strength. She's America, Mother. Indian and black and white, everything, a brilliant gumbo, rich with flavor and texture."

"She's a fucking Central American Harlot!" his Mother grumbled, angry enough to be crude.

"And you're a fucking blue eyed, blue haired, blue blooded true blue New England North American harlot, and I'm not so fucking proud of the self-righteous, xenophobic, hypocritical heritage you provided me."

"Grow up, Phil," sighed his mother. "Stop letting your teenage testes lead you. Okay, she's a beautiful young woman. Who cares? You will find a woman who you'll be proud to marry. Someone you can share your life with, who has the bearing of greatness, who understands you, who can bear you..."

" ... white children, as white and pure as fresh snow, not some ignominious colored child of unknown heritage, muddied by miscegenation."

"Whatever. You see that whore again, we'll cut you off, and you'll flounder in the unscrupulous world without our safety net."

"To tell you the truth, I don't care. Why you think she's such a threat to your world or this family, I don't know. But ... Okay, Mother. I'll give her up. I'll give her up as long as I need to keep my tether. I should have gone for a scholarship so I didn't need your money, but I didn't. Not that they'd give me much with Father's money looming over me. Not that I mind. I've had it pretty damn easy compared to ... well, almost everyone. So I'll be a good little son."

The transition seemed way too abrupt, but his mother took what she could get. "I'm glad. You'll see I'm right."

"It's for the best, son," said his father.

"I'm glad you didn't invite me to fuck your concubine, Father," said Phil, turning around and heading out the door.

"Where do you think you're going, Phil?" asked his mother.

"Home mother. I know you bought it for me, but my apartment at school feels a whole hell of a lot more like home than this ... mausoleum. Oh and Mother, could you, if you wouldn't mind too much, apologize to Oona for me. It's the only regret I have not staying here. I miss our chats. And tell her her daughter's okay. You know, my Aunt Christa. Tell her she's a grandmother."

Their mistake had been overconfidence bred by too much success. During the second semester of his freshman year, Marisol staggered their meetings to no more than once a month. They met at Myra's apartment once and at a friend of her sister's in New York another time. Only twice did she come visit him in Cambridge, staggered by months.

Aside from both wanting a great deal more time together, in fact all the time together, the once a month, one day and night meetings had an advantage. The love and sex became explosively exhilarating, lasting almost the whole 16 hours. A sustained peak of emotions and feelings never got old. And despite the long separations, it took virtually no time at all to reinstate the comfort they felt in each other's presence. And they always had lots to talk about.

During the summer, Phil never went to live at his parent's home unlike all other summers. He applied and was accepted as a lowly clerk in a law office in Philadelphia. He even shared an apartment with a fellow clerk and paid his portion of rent from the low wage job and some of his saved allowance (refusing current allowance unless in desperate straights).

Assisted by her sister's owner or Marisol's own money, they met almost every Thursday at various motels, usually in New Jersey. Despite the low brow and even slimy locales, they found the meetings sort of fun, not depressing at all. It brought them in contact with a world even Marisol had avoided. Still, they most enjoyed the occasional visits to the shore, staying at Atlantic City or Jones Beach or Ocean City.

As luck would have it, his parents decided to vacation in Europe for the last couple of weeks of August and the first week of September. Conferring with Oona, Marisol felt they would be safe at the old mansion. Any of the help Oona felt suspicious of, she gave time off or didn't have visit during that period.

Just to be safe, Phil waited a couple days before leaving Philadelphia to join his love. Nothing seemed suspicious.

"Where is she?' asked Phil of Oona greeting him at the door. He had sustained a hard on throughout the trip from Philadelphia, pushing his old Beetle to its limits.

"Check upstairs," Oona told him with a wink.

Not finding her in his room, he shook his head. "It couldn't be," he thought. Just to be sure, he checked the bathrooms and the guest rooms. No Marisol. Sighing and taking a deep breath, he opened the door to the master bedroom.

Laid out on the large bed wearing a diaphanous peignoir, her long dark hair spread out around her head like an aura, her body curved provocatively yet discretely, her hips tilted up a little, her legs slightly open, her torso curving so her shoulders rested flat giving her breasts an interesting, almost cheesecake presentation as they revealed themselves through the transparent cloth, Phil looked down on the most beautiful woman in the world. Even the lighting, a swathe of lace over the southern exposed window creating a soft delicate pattern via the sun casting shadows contributed to the erotic vision.

"My God, Marisol, you're glorious."

"Strip naked my love. It's time we brought some beauty and love to this empty room."

"With pleasure."

"Slowly."

"Yes ma'am."

She found his stripping delicious. Like his, her libido had been a slow burning flame all day. Anticipation, slowing the eventuality of his flesh melding with hers, increased the flame to white hot. Her desire perfumed the air.

When his cock sprung forth, she took a breath. Her heart quivered as did her loins. "Stroke it, my love," she whispered. "There's almond oil behind you."

"What about you?" he asked, squirting the oil and rubbing his long thick cock.

"I don't need to. Do you want me to move?"

"No. Not yet."

"I'm holding back. My fingers tingle with desire, with the temptation to masturbate. But that's good."

"I can tell. I can smell your sweet juices."

"The better to greet your gorgeous cock. I can hear the sound of your fist on your flesh. It sounds so close to fucking, to your flesh sliding in and out inside me.

"Already my balls burn. I won't last. Should I cum on my parents' bed?"

"I won't last either. I promise."

"Oh God, Marisol. You give me such pleasure. Always. I don't know if I..."

"Come to me my love. From the foot of the bed. Slowly. Push the skirt up. No, don't touch my cunt. Just your fingers along my thighs. Oh fuck. Now position me. Open me wide. Pull my legs open. Bend my knees. Oh. Mmm."

"You're a goddess. The goddess of fuck."

"And you're my fuck god. Oh fuck. Yes. Press. Press in. You're oiled already. In. Deep. Deeper. Oh fuck. Even deeper. Oh God. Your endless pole. Keep going. Oh yes!"

"You're full of life in there, like a million fingers pressing and touching and stroking." He held himself over her. He held himself from her. Only their sexes touched. Resisting everything else brought the moment slowly to crescendo.

"Oh you're rippling; it's fucking my cock without fucking."

"I feel your twitch. I feel you expand. Press against me. Now!"

"Aah!" they screamed together as their bodies became overwhelmed by ecstasy. Somehow they remained separated except at their throbbing sexes. Somehow he held his body over hers, watched her pleasure mirror his in her eyes and mouth. The flesh reddened, a scarlet blush covering her chest and face.

"Take it off!" she moaned. She rocked her body, lifting it out of the way of the peignoir's removal. When she did, she noticed, "You're still hard!"

Tossing the silky negligee aside, his hands reached under and hugged her, pressing her naked torso against his. They kissed many kisses, teasing and pressing hard, tongues meeting and playing.

"The better to fuck you with my dear," he grinned.

Her legs wrapped around his lower back. Her arms wrapped around his neck. He lifted up so that she dangled. She swung her cunt, sending his cock deep before sliding it out to the head and back in. Bouncing off his pubic bone with hers capped the marvelous friction that tingled at her g-spot and whispered deliciously at her engorged clit.

Closing in on another peak, she released her arms and fell to the bed. "Fuck me hard. Suck my nipples. Chew them. Squeeze them. Oh God. Harder. Fuck. Harder. Squeeze. Harder. Oh fuck. Oh yes. So. Fucking. Perfect."

Grasping his head in her hands, she pulled it down and rested it on her forehead as she arched and shivered and relaxed. Her dark eyes wide, gazing into his beautiful blue eyes, seeing an ocean of love in those small circles, she murmured, "Always."

"Always, my love."

"Perfect."

"Perfection."

She giggled. She made a silly face, cross eyed and cheeks expanded. She giggled again.

He laughed full throated, filling the room with it. "Crazy chick."

"Crazy man."

Grabbing her body, he turned them so she lay on top, his cock still fully erect remaining inside her liquefied cunt.

Steadily, her eyes focused on his, she began to rise and fall. His hands traversed her body, memorizing its feel though already familiar with it. He loved her petite shape, her tight form, her perfect breasts, the swell of her hips, her firm and giving butt, her strong, muscled thighs and especially the smooth skin over all of it. Over time, nearly 15 minutes, her motion quickened. In the end, she rode at a gallop, his hands assisting while squeezing her ass, his mouth lapping at her passing nipples. The bouncing shortened and quickened, allowing his teeth to take hold of a nipple and nibble. Pressing down hard, she groaned her climax, her liquid pleasure soaking Phil's balls. Those balls tightened and rose and released the sperm into the semen sent deep into her womb.

They clung together, somehow vigorous and relaxed. "I love you, my bear. Always."

"I love you my perfect Mayan Queen. Eternally."

They kissed as gentle as rose petals stroked by a breeze.

"I could stay here forever," said Marisol, snuggling against his chest.

"Me too."

Sitting up in bed a half hour later, still naked, the lovers enjoyed fried chicken and German potato salad and cold Chablis Oona had brought up on a collapsible metal table with a sad smile at the naked bodies hidden by a sheet and the lovely faces smiling contentedly back at her, two people she loved like her own son and daughter, unable to leave without kissing each cheek.

Marisol revealed between bites, "I invited Edie and Myra to stay for a few days."

"Really?" replied a pleased Phil.

"So it's okay?"

"Of course, my love. You know how much I love having those two around. How long?"

"A week! You know they spent the summer attending summer school. It's ended so..."

"Cool."

"What's wrong Marisol?" asked Phil, setting down the cold tall glass of Sangria. He had helped her clean the pool, the pool cleaner on Oona's list of the distrusted, and they'd played like kids in it for over an hour, along with Mike and James and Oona. Everyone seemed to be having an extraordinarily good time. But Marisol suddenly looked sad, as if a cloud had darkened the sun of her mood.

"Nothing. Nothing now. In fact it's never been better. I don't think it ever will."

"When I can get past my stupid dependence, I'll get us out of their shadow, and we'll have many more days like this."

A heartbreakingly sad smile appeared on her lovely face. "I hope so."

The sun reappeared in her face when she heard the doorbell. "Around back!" bellowed Phil. Noticing the butler tense, ready to jump out of the pool to attend to his duties, he shook his head at James and said, "Relax. It's our friends." James relaxed and he and the son of his boss shared a smile.

Excited, Marisol jumped out of the poolside recliner and bounced on her toes, ready for a sprint. When Edie appeared at the corner of the house, she rushed to her. Despite the dampness of her one piece maroon swimsuit, she hugged her friend tightly, Edie dropping her back pack to catch her. They kissed.

"Ooh! A pool," remarked Myra. "But I don't have a suit!"

Phil glanced a question at Oona, who shrugged and smiled and nodded. "No need," he said, shucking off his trunks and diving in.

"Cool," Myra smiled.

The older servants ogled the bodies on display. The men focused on Phil's impressive weapon which remained at half staff while Oona took in the marvelous bodies of the young women, but both genders were appreciated for their youth and beauty by the elders. When, after splashing and playing for a few minutes, the youngsters closed in and became more intimate, the servants decided to give them privacy and went inside.

Intimacy brought heightened libidos. Even Myra and Phil exchanged kisses and caresses. They moved from the pool to the outside shower, continuing the teasing. A parade of naked flesh darted into the house and upstairs and into the master bedroom.

Naked flesh shifted against naked flesh. Tongues and fingers slid everywhere. At first a full group, the lovers coupled up with Phil and Edie together and Myra with Marisol. Myra stopped and got up. "Let me get some stuff," she said with a wink.

The cute dyke gone, Edie became the center of attention. Phil worked her head and breasts while Marisol worked from her toes up her legs and thighs, reaching Edie's writhing pussy when Myra returned bearing sexual tools.

"Here, big man," she said, spinning a condom packet at Phil like a mini Frisbee. He caught it. She extracted a long thin phallus from her army green backpack, a harness attached to it. She strapped it on, adjusting the small phalange that pressed against her clit. "For days," she explained while pressing out some KY from a tube and rubbing it over the dildo as if masturbating it, "Edie kept telling me her fantasy, getting into more and more detail and getting off on it. She wants her cunt and asshole filled. Do you mind, Marisol, if we borrow your cock?"

"Of course not," chuckled Marisol.

"Thanks," cooed Edie, already edging towards orgasm.

Preparations included Myra slicking Edie's backdoor with one hand, the other keeping Edie's clit well stimulated, and Marisol loving Phil's shaft with lips, tongue and hand. Phil returned the favor, suckling on Marisol's cunt lips and clit.

"Ready?" asked Myra.

"God yes," murmured her lover.

Phil positioned below, Marisol rolled on the extra large condom and aimed his glans.

"Oh fuck. So fucking big!" moaned Edie.

"So tight," murmured Phil. As a distraction Marisol's luscious grotto, hot and ready to penetrate, could be faulted. He got nearly as much pleasure pleasuring her with his mouth than getting fucked, but the intense pressure and liveliness around his shaft needed a second focus or he would have cum soon after penetration.