Variation on a Theme, Book 6
Copyright© 2024 by Grey Wolf
Chapter 83: Party Time
Saturday, January 18, 1986
I woke to an in-progress blowjob. Not at all the worst way to wake. After waking enough, I reached down, stroked her hair, and softly said, “Good morning, Little Red. And good girl.”
She moaned, looking up at me with big, happy eyes, and redoubled her efforts, which had me filling her mouth shortly thereafter. She showed off what she’d gotten, grinned, and swallowed, then scooted up to snuggle. And get kissed, though she always let me initiate that after a blowjob rather than doing so herself, which I thought was cute and suited who she was.
After that, I wrapped an arm around her, sent my fingers between her legs, and held her through two orgasms of her own, with a lot of kissing along the way.
“Fuck, that’s a nice way to start the day!” she said, afterward.
“It really is,” I said.
She stretched, then said, “Now for the embarrassing part.”
“So...” I said. “This will seem like a silly question, considering how much I know about ‘girl talk.’”
She giggled a bit.
I continued, saying, “They know we’re having sex, including an awful lot of the details. You’re going to share most of what just happened with them anyway. Even if you only share with some of them, you know the others will know quickly. How embarrassing is it to look them in the eye about it?”
She bit her lower lip and nodded slowly.
“It’s ... more than you would think and less than I’m making it out to be, maybe? Um...”
She pondered a bit more, face slowly growing pink.
“Honestly? It’s a turn-on being a bit embarrassed, when it comes down to it. This isn’t what a...”
She stopped dead at that point and got considerably redder.
“Okay! No. That was entirely wrong!” she said, giggling, still red. “It’s... totally what a ‘good girl’ does, the way we mean it. It’s just totally not what a ‘good girl’ does the way ... oh, my mom, for instance ... would put it. Our ‘good girl’ is a ‘naughty girl.’ Or a slut or ... whatever. And it’s a turn-on being a naughty girl and a slut. Or a good girl, our way. Being Little Red. The whole package. Which is because of you and them. If there was any judgment there, it would flip on a dime and totally suck. But since it’s all just fun, and everyone likes it, it’s a blast! It’s totally fun for me to just live in this space where I’m open about getting horny, wanting to have sex, having sex, getting hornier, having more sex, and letting that get me into these situations where everyone knows and where I can see stuff coming that only naughty girls get up to.”
“That’s really interesting,” I said, hugging her close to me. “Obviously, that all works to my advantage...”
She giggled and nodded quickly.
“But it also works to your advantage, and that’s what we want.”
“There’s an old quote that I’ve heard ... well, more than a few times,” she said. “‘Be a lady in the living room and a whore in the bedroom.’ I used to think that was silly. Now, I get it, I really do. It’s not about changing who you are in the bedroom, it’s about opening yourself to the possibilities and getting away from the voices that say ‘Don’t do that! It’s not nice! You won’t be a nice girl if you do that!’ Because ... it’s no one’s business but mine and whoever’s in that bedroom with me. Well, unless I share it with anyone else, but no one I’m sharing it with thinks there’s anything wrong with just going for it and enjoying what you enjoy.”
“We’re using a lot of words that I don’t like, but I like in this context,” I said, chuckling.
“Oh, I know! God, that’s a funny part. Anyone calling me a whore, a slut, or even a good girl in most situations and I’m slapping them silly or kicking them so hard their ass will have a noticeable shoe-print! But in these settings, it’s awesome! The girls get it, you get it, everyone’s happy, no one thinks bad things about me ... it’s perfect.”
“I’m really glad. That’s what all of this was supposed to get you.”
She nodded quickly.
“Look ... I know we’re going to do more. Some of which ... oh, heck, a fair bit of which ... I put out there. And I’m a little nervous and more than a bit embarrassed just thinking about some of it. But I love knowing it’s out there and coming for me and I’ll be doing that! And that you know me well enough to know how to lead me. And won’t let me back out unless I insist on it, even if I cry and gripe and beg otherwise.”
“That ... seems accurate,” I said. “And ... wolfish.”
She grinned and nodded.
“You’re a nice, civil wolf, Mister Big Bad. All I need to do is mention my grandma and it’s better than whacking you on the nose with a newspaper!”
I chuckled and nodded at that.
“Seriously ... that’s ... I like that. It’s so much better than trying to convey what I mean when what I want to do is rant and protest. It’s ... well, mom’s romances again. Girls say ‘no, no, no!’ and mean ‘yes, yes, yes!’ all the damn time! But if you do that in real life, sooner or later someone’s getting in trouble. The girl, the guy, both ... any which way. It’s the whole ‘communicate, communicate, communicate!’ thing, just done differently. Better.”
“We wouldn’t be here without all of that communication,” I said. “Getting Mister Big Bad even going took a lot.”
She giggled and nodded.
“I could say ‘too much,’ but it was really just right.”
“Ready to face your fans?”
“I ... could, yeah,” she said, grinning.
“You’re in luck,” I said.
“Am I?”
“I ... am going to let you get dressed first.”
She blushed and said, “You wouldn’t!”
Then she looked at me, studied my face, gulped, and said, “You would! You monster!”
There was just enough tease in it that I knew she wasn’t serious. That, and no grandmas or baskets had entered the conversation.
“You won’t know if I would until it happens, Little Red.”
“Meanie! Brute!” she said, but now she was giggling.
Properly dressed, Darla and I headed out and joined the others for breakfast. As usual, Candice and Sherry weren’t here, which left the others free to tease Darla. A few of the jabs were ‘How’s your scalp? Sore?’, ‘Didn’t bring another dress?’, ‘Stay up late, Steve?’ (nominally aimed at me, but she was the one blushing), ‘I’m surprised you can sit down,’ and ‘Thank God for soundproofing!’
Darla sometimes got in a particularly good response. When Cammie said, “Hope you brought clean underwear,” Darla said, “Who needs underwear, anyway?” That worked, getting Darla a high-five from Paige, then Angie. Mel shrugged at Cammie and added one more, getting a cry of, “Traitor!”
A kiss solved that, at least.
It felt pretty clear to everyone, I think, that this was just Darla being welcomed to the back and forth of our house. She wasn’t going to be an insider, but she had somewhat of a foot in the door.
I wasn’t sure how Amy would do in this situation, and that was a valid worry. On the other hand, everyone but Mel had spent years around Darla and seen her in many stressful situations. They knew she was highly verbal, and they knew she could take it and dish it right back out.
After breakfast, I drove Darla to Krueger, walking her up to her door. When it opened, Louise said, “Get lost on the way?”
Darla said, “Nope! I was right where I wanted to be the whole time. You?”
“I slept wonderfully,” Louise said. “The not sleeping part was even better!”
They exchanged a high five, after which Darla gave me a particularly emphatic goodbye kiss.
“See you tonight,” she said.
“See you then!”
“See you, Steve,” Louise said.
“Looking forward to it, Louise!”
A fair bit of the rest of the day was involved in party prep. Honestly, I think all of us felt a little more relaxed about the whole thing knowing the wrong kind of police weren’t going to be nosing around our house. It hadn’t been a conscious worry before. But, ever since Darla had mentioned the car checking our house out, I think it had been there, lurking.
Our official starting time had been four, but some of the study group people arrived early. We mostly put them to work getting extra chairs into place, arranging snacks on serving platters, and so forth.
Cal and Andy arrived just after four. They introduced us to their dates, Kelsey Cooper and Valerie Hutchins. Both of them were on A&M’s women’s soccer team, and were apparently quite good. If I didn’t know what I knew, I would have assumed they were real couples. Cal and Andy had gotten lots of practice with Cammie and Mel, but they might have upped their game another notch. They probably had to, really. This was college dating, and it might be assumed that proposals and engagements were on the table at some point.
Cal and Andy were polite enough with Cammie and Mel, as were Kelsey and Valerie, but there was a pretense of distance and resentment there. Again, I was certain it was performative, but they made it work. They felt like old friends, just with something in the way of being fully friends.
They’d brought several other football players with them. Some of them weren’t any random players, either. Oh, a few weren’t people I knew, but one of their friends was Johnny Holland, who was an All-American linebacker and one of Cal’s mentors. Cal and Johnny were apparently pretty good friends now, not just mentor and mentee. He was a big guy, too! Of course, so was Cal, and he was considerably bigger now than in high school. When Cal hugged you, you knew you’d been hugged.
Johnny just shook hands with me, but even that was an experience. I could easily see how he would be dominating linemen and bringing down runners and receivers left and right.
The other big name was maybe even more interesting to us. Kip Corrington was an Academic All-American who played safety (and was very good at it). He immediately fell into discussions with some of our study group people. He was pre-med, and we had no one in that area, but Cal and Andy’s study habits had impressed him and he wanted to meet the people who they’d been friends with in high school. I hoped to get time to talk to him in a bit myself.
Both of them had gone on to pro careers. Johnny’s had been much longer and more celebrated, I was pretty sure, but any pro career is a big deal. I was pretty sure Kip had gone on to practice medicine after the pros, and I thought Johnny had gone on to be a coach.
They were certainly a hit of the party, but our guests weren’t the sort to mob ‘celebrities’ and make their lives miserable. I think the various players appreciated that. I know Cal and Andy did, but they knew what to expect.
Not that we needed it, but this was certainly going to do something for our social standing, anyway, especially if this kept happening. Cal and Andy might be stars in a year or two, not just the stars’ friends. Johnny was here for another season, though. Would Cal be in his shadow or take one of the other starting linebacker spots? That decision likely wouldn’t be made until the fall.
More guests arrived over the next few hours. Amethyst was one of the first, arriving about four-thirty. She was unapologetically wearing much her usual outfit, though with a somewhat longer top and a skirt that went a bit below her knees. I noted the stockings were the ones I had given her, and she wore the barbed-wire ankle chains as well. I also noted the ankhs on her ears.
We hugged and kissed when she came in. I think she wasn’t expecting the kiss, but she seemed quite happy to receive it.
She was considerably more at ease this time, it felt like, if not fully at ease. Some of it came from having Jas, Angie, and even Paige to hang out with. They’d gotten a bit closer over time, though none of them knew Amethyst anywhere near as well as I did. I was still certain there were layers yet to be uncovered, for that matter.
The next notable arrival was Lindsay. We spent a bit of time catching up while I cooked burgers, though I figured another lunch was almost certainly called for. Mostly, it was ‘no news is no news.’ No breakthrough on the girlfriend front and still good friends (but no more) with Vanessa. Straight A’s again, and parents who loved the grades but disapproved of her roommate situation and her being gay. As with many things, I got the feeling time was slowly healing some of the wounds. Her parents could only stay so disapproving for so long while still being reasonably ‘parental,’ after all. What they wanted to say had been said, and they were trying not to belabor any points.
As Lins put it, though, “Hypothetical Future Girlfriend will cause a stir. Still, they’ve had years to get used to the idea. It will happen, and they’ll just have to deal with it when it does.”
I said, “Talk to Mel, if you haven’t already. I can’t tell if her parents were worse than yours, but it was pretty icy for a while. They’ve almost entirely come around, though.”
“Good for her! I’ll see if I can get any tips.”
“What worked for her the most won’t work for you, unfortunately.”
“Oh?”
“She has twin brothers, Mark and Morty. They’ve been dating the same girl, Emily Parker, since the fall of our freshman year. Emily finally essentially said, ‘Sit down, shut up, or I’ll start thinking about how often your grandkids visit you,’ as well as pointing out that Mel might well also have kids who might not be visiting if the ice remained.”
Lins chuckled a bit. “That’s unique! If it works for them, though...”
“They’re engaged now, so I think it’s working.”
“That is going to be one heck of a wedding!”
“Tell me about it!” I said. “I can’t wait. They were friends way back when, and none of us thought it would last. Now, it’s one of the longest relationships among my friends.”
“Makes me even more eager for Hypothetical Future Girlfriend to turn up! But ... there’s time. Being single does give me more time to study.”
“Or cruise the gay bars,” I said, winking.
She snorted and said, “Yeah. Those mid-30s chicks are starting to look more appealing. Not!”
I chuckled and gave her a high five.
“Going to go mingle! Maybe she’s here and I just don’t know it.”
“Could be!”
Darla, along with Louise, Caroline, and a few other friends from Krueger, arrived just after six. We hugged and kissed, which seemed to amuse more than a few of our friends. Kip apparently also noticed. He asked Andy something right afterward. Andy gestured toward Jas, then Darla, and was, most likely, explaining my unusual dating situation.
Heck, I would have noticed if an engaged guy was suddenly kissing other women, so I could hardly blame him for noticing it.
Darla and I didn’t talk all that much. That made sense considering how much talking we’d done last night. I did have a plan for her, but it depended on what she did later in the night.
Cal, Andy, and the other players left around seven. Kip had apparently gotten invitations to two of the study groups where there was an overlap and might actually join. One was math-related (not at Angie’s level!) and one was for a philosophy class many of the Journalism Jihad (yet another not-really-preferred name, but I thought maybe Jas had decided to go with rotating questionable names) were taking.
In short, we now had spin-off study groups, where people in one of ‘our’ groups had taken the idea and applied it to classes we weren’t in. It wasn’t as if we were doing anything particularly innovative — study groups have probably existed as long as organized schooling has existed — but we were influencing people. Quite a few of our study buddies would have taken after first-life Steve and lone-wolfed most of college. They could have, too.
Things were just better with friends. That was the difference. Even if you were ahead, teaching people is one of the best ways of preserving and expanding your own knowledge. And even those most ahead hit a roadblock from time to time.
Well ... not really. I hadn’t hit a significant roadblock in quite a while, and Angie was a wrecking ball demolishing obstacles in her path. But, being fair, I had a Master’s degree, and many of my courses were largely repeats. Angie, meanwhile, was effectively a prodigy, and had her own degree as well. Little overlap with her math work, and even a fair bit of her business coursework was new, but she’d developed serious study skills getting educated while in prison.
While checking our supplies around eight, I noticed the beer and wine were going slower than anticipated. That was a good sign. I suspected most people had had a glass or two, but that was it. No one seemed all that intoxicated and everyone was having a good time.
I was still prepared to drive anyone home that really needed it. That, and we had two rooms ready for anyone who just wanted to sleep it off.
As I fetched some more chips and napkins, I noticed Amy and Darla hanging out in the kitchen, their heads close together, talking in low voices. They both glanced at me, blushed (only slightly on Amy’s part), and gave me little waves.
What could go wrong there?
The answer, I felt fairly certain, was ‘nothing.’ They were grown women and were also ‘girls,’ with a full right to girl talk. If I didn’t want it shared, I could ask them not to. That would work exactly as well as they allowed it to, no more and no less. In my experience, though, asking for something not to be shared might make it more likely to be on everyone’s lips unless it was truly confidential.
Thus, I didn’t ask. Darla, Amy, or both, could spill every bean they wanted to. What was the worst that could happen? Just being with Jas and Paige? And maybe Mel? And snuggling with Angie? And occasional visits with Jess?
Some rough existence that would be.
More seriously: I would really miss both Darla and Amethyst. And, if something they shared actually hurt either of their feelings, I would hate that. They were both special to me, Darla in a ‘but I have to let her go’ way and Amy in a ‘maybe I do, maybe I don’t’ way. Both relationships had a lot of potential.
I really wasn’t worried. They both knew that, and knew what the rules were. Or, if Amy didn’t, she would surely figure them out. That was one of her skills, after all.
Amethyst found me around nine-thirty, looped her arms around my neck, and smiled up to me. Not that much up, thanks to the shoes, but still up.
“This has been much more fun than I would have thought possible not long ago,” she said.
“I’m really glad.”
“It is...”
She shrugged a bit, then said, “Had I ever been invited to a party like this, or like your other one, before things got so messed up, I would have enjoyed it. Before, they were always ... drunk people, loud boasting, and stupid games, what little I saw of them. I will happily come to more of these, if you will have me.”
“I’m very happy to hear that, and we will definitely invite you. It makes me happy to see you having a good time.”
“It is the same for me,” she said.
There was a little pause — which might not mean anything with Amy — and then she said, “Your friend Darla is very nice, and very interesting.”
“I’m glad you like her.”
She grinned a bit and said, “I do keep telling you: perhaps I do not like ‘nice.’”
“Ah, but I believe we’ve established that you do.”
She kept grinning and said, “Darla is the sort of ‘nice’ that is kind and welcoming, pleasant but not stilted, and genuine. I like that very much. It takes me some time to trust people, but I have learned that I can generally trust the sort of people who will be connected to you.”
“I’m glad of that, too. If you find someone to not be trustworthy, please let one of us know. You might have insights that the rest of us do not.”
She nodded, looking serious, and said, “I may, and I will. I think ... all of you are better with people than I am. But... not being good with people naturally, I need to study them more, and I see them differently.”
“That makes a lot of sense.”
She grinned a bit, then said, “Darla gave me some ideas. I may have given her some, as well, but she is ... in a very different place in her life. A place that seems perfect for her. I find myself ... jealous, in a way.”
“I hope you’re not...” I started, but she shook her head, smiling.
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