Chapter 2: Lori, Finally

By The Fire

Thursday, June 24, 1976

“Hi Lori, Will here,” I said when she answered.

“Will Morris, where have you been these last four days?” she yelled down the phone line. “I’ve been worried sick about you; every time I called it was just that stupid machine, I even drove around to see if you were at home; your car was in the garage, but there was no answer. What have you been doing?”

I told her briefly that on Monday morning, I had been hit by a car as I was crossing the street. I quickly told her that I hadn’t been badly injured, just a sprain to my knee, and a gash to the back of my head.

“The doctor was worried that there might have been some internal bleeding from the head injury, so I stayed with Beth Ward – she was driving the car that hit me – so she could make sure there was no complications. I just got home this morning.”

“So you’re at home now? Stay there, I’ll be around in a few minutes.”

I hung up; she would be here in less than ten minutes. I made sure the fire was burning properly; it was starting to warm the family room up. I spread a rug on the floor in front of the fireplace, and pushed the coffee table back out of the way, so we could sit on the floor in front of the fire. I put the union notice and Janelle’s letter in my bedroom, and just as I returned to the kitchen, she was at the side door. I hobbled across on my crutches, and opened the door.

“I ... you ... are you okay?” she asked. “How bad is the leg? What other injuries did you get? Can you show me where you hit your head?”

“Come inside, and I’ll tell you everything.”

She followed me into the family room, and we sat on the floor in front of the fire. I told her everything that happened that morning – the letter from Cathy, walking down to listen to a new record, running across the laneway coming to, seeing Beth, the ambulance trip to the hospital, everything the doctor said to me. She looked concerned when I told her they were concerned about bleeding in my brain, but when I told her I stayed at Beth’s place, and she kept me under observation for several days, taking my vital signs and doing neurological testing all the time, she seemed a bit happier.

“So, let’s see the injuries,” she said.

I pointed out where I had hit my head; she knelt up and inspected the damage.

“What are those metal things there?”

“Staples. They can’t really stitch it up, so they use those to hold the skin together so it will heal. I have to go back on Monday for them to check things, and possibly take them out.”

“Uh huh,” she responded. “What other injuries did you sustain?”

I took my shirt off, tossing it across the room. She moved behind me, and gasped.

“There are all those bruises; you back is covered with them! What’s under this bandage?”

“That’s where I grazed my shoulder, well, more than a graze,” I said.

I was surprised at her reaction to my back; I had not been able to take a good look at it. I could feel her fingers gingerly touching various areas, pressing softly on the skin.

“How bad is the wound on your shoulder? Will there be a scar?”

“I haven’t been able to see it properly, but it bled a lot when it happened,” I replied. “My shirt is in the laundry, it’s all bloody and torn there. Help me up, and I’ll show you.”

Lori helped me get to my feet, and I limped to the laundry, where I had put the damaged clothing. She gasped again when she saw how much I had bled onto my shirt. Back in the family room, I asked if she wanted to see my knee. I took my jeans off, and she saw all the bruises on my hips. I removed the bandage from my knee; the bruises there had now turned purple, with orange at the edges. She knelt on the floor in front of me.

“You could have got really badly injured, or worse,” she said. “If you had got yourself killed, I ... I ... I don’t know what I would have done. So why didn’t you call me, even Monday night, to let me know what had happened, and how you were?”

“I guess I didn’t think about it,” I replied.

“You just didn’t think about it; you just didn’t think about ME,” she spat back at me. “That’s your trouble, Will Morris, you NEVER think of anyone but yourself. You’re not selfish, just self-centred. Anything that doesn’t directly involve you or what you’re doing at the moment doesn’t even enter your mind. Did you know I was worried sick about you? I couldn’t sleep at all for the last two nights, worrying about what might have happened. My mother said you had probably gone to the country with your parents, with your car still being here, but I said you would have told me if you were going away.

“Didn’t it ever occur to you that I would be worried about your reaction to that letter from Cathy, that I would be concerned about you? How was I to know that you weren’t lying dead somewhere, or maybe badly injured? But I guess you don’t give a shit about my feelings, or anyone else’s for that matter. It just doesn’t cross your mind that when someone really cares about you, when someone loves you ... When they love you, they are concerned for your well-being, and they worry when they don’t know how you are.”

She was getting worked up now; there were tears in her eyes, starting to trickle down her cheeks. I braced myself for another torrent of abuse, or even a hard backhand to the face.

“When you got that letter from Cathy; I knew what she was going to tell you, she spoke to me on Friday saying she had sent it, and that she wouldn’t be coming up; I was worried just how you might take the news. So why didn’t you call me, and tell me about it? Or didn’t you think you needed to share that with me? Maybe I’m not really all that important to you, I’m just this silly girl who you know and sail with and talk to every FUCKING DAY. Why should you care about my feelings, or even concern yourself with the fact that I’m so desperately in love with you, and the thought that you might be badly hurt or even worse ... Does the fact that I could never live without you in my life surprise you? And how do you think I feel, when you have that happen to you, and you couldn’t even be bothered to call me and tell me what happened! I’m just a minor part of your life, aren’t I? You don’t give a shit about me, or my feelings. I’m so fucking stupid to think that you might actually care about me. Why did I even bother to come around today? All I seem to do with you is make a fool of myself, thinking that you actually care about me, that there’s a chance you might love me even a little bit.”

She burst into tears, sobbing loudly. I felt like a first class heal; a complete dickhead. I had no excuse at all for not calling her on Monday evening, to tell her what had happened. The fact that I had spent the last few days at Beth’s place having regular sex with her made me feel even worse. I put my arms around her, and held her to me as she cried. Fucked if I knew just what to say to her; I really had no excuse for my behaviour.

“I’m sorry; I really have no excuse for not calling you. I think it was all the stress of the day, first the letter from Cathy, then the accident. I know just before I blacked out, I felt like I was dying. Then when the doctor said there was a chance of bleeding in my brain ... It’s not really an excuse, but I know I should have called you. Lori, I care a lot about you, I love you, and I feel like a first class arsehole for the way I’ve treated you. Can you forgive me?”

She was still hugging me, and sobbing. I stroked her hair, not sure if I had said the right things.

“I was just so worried,” she said. “I had this feeling that something bad had happened, and if you had been killed, I would have been devastated. All I could think about was how we’ve wasted so much time, all because I was scared that you would leave me again. On the way over this morning, I decided that I’ve wasted enough time; there have already been too many missed opportunities for us. Help me get my clothes off.”

She stood up, and pulled her top off. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and I could see her nipples already swollen and puffy. I reached over to her, and unfastened her jeans; she pushed them down and stepped out of them. I pulled her panties down, and she reached down to take them off. She knelt down on the floor next to me, and she pulled my undies off. We were both naked, lying in front of the fire.

Lori wrapped her arms around me, and guided me to the floor. She covered my face with kisses, her hands stroking my cheeks. I returned her kisses and caressed her breasts. She moved around, until she was lying on her back, parallel to the fire.

“I want you to make love to me, Will,” she said softly. “Right now, here ... we’ve waited too long.”

She pulled me across so I was lying on top of her. I raised myself off her, and positioned myself between her legs. I reached down to stroke her pussy, to feel if she was wet enough. My fingers spread her lips open; she was more that wet enough. As I was feeling around, trying to line my knob up, Lori pushed my hand away, took hold of my shaft, and guided me in. She pressed my knob against her pussy and moved it up and down until I was right over her vagina.

“Now, do it, take me,” she whispered, pulling my prick into her.

I pushed in, using my hips to drive my cock into her. I could feel her opening up as I entered; she closed her eyes.

“Oh, yes, that’s what I’ve wanted for so long,” she sighed.

We made love all morning. In between the actual intercourse, there was lots of kissing, touching, caressing. I lost track of how many times I was actually inside her, having sex. It didn’t really matter; it was just one continual act of making love. I finally understood the phrase “and the two shall become one”; it was like our bodies had merged. We didn’t have to say anything to each other; just looking into each other’s eyes was sufficient to let each other know of our feelings, our desire for each other.

We both had several orgasms, but that wasn’t really all that important. It wasn’t even the physical sex act that we were wanting; just the emotional connection, the sharing of our bodies, the almost spiritual act of being one. It was nothing like the raw, primal sex that Cathy and I had; not even the love making that Megan and I shared. The experience seemed to transcend pure physical sensations; I was mostly unaware of just what we were doing, where my prick was, just what body parts were involved. I finally understood what “making love” really meant.

It must have been almost midday when we finally broke apart. The fire had burned down to some glowing coals; I put two logs on it, and poked and prodded the coals, until the fresh logs caught alight. Lori was kneeling behind me, with her arms wrapped around my chest as I used the poker to get the fire going again. When I turned around to face her; I could see the radiant look on her face; she was glowing. She pulled me towards her and kissed me.

“Why did we wait so long?” she asked.

“Maybe if we had done that earlier; like a year or more ago, we wouldn’t have known enough, or been comfortable enough to completely let go the way we did,” I suggested. “Who cares about what we did or didn’t do in the past; what we do from now on is what’s important. Would you like some more of that?”

“Yes, please. But could we have some lunch first? I’m sorry, that’s not very romantic, but I didn’t have any breakfast this morning; I didn’t feel like eating, and I’m starving now. What if I help you make something?”

We headed to the kitchen – still naked – and I looked to see what was in the fridge. Not a lot; just some eggs, cheese, ham, milk, stuff like that. Lori looked in the fridge with me.

“What if I make us an omelette? I’ll start making it; can you chop up some of that ham,” she suggested. “Where’s the frying pan...”

We worked together to make lunch; once I had cut the ham up into little cubes, I grated some cheese. I got some plates out, and cleared the coffee table off in the family room; eating in front of the fire would be nicer than sitting at a table somewhere else in the house. The two logs I had placed on the coals were now blazing well; the room was quite warm. I looked outside; the rain was still pouring down; typical miserable winter weather.

When our lunch was almost ready, Lori asked me if she could have a look at the letter Cathy sent me, provided I didn’t mind. I went to my room to retrieve the letter. Once we had our food, we went back to the family room, sat on the floor in front of the coffee table to eat. Lori read through the letter, shaking her head.

“I knew she was going to tell you things were over,” she said. “But I had no idea she would be so deliberately unkind and insulting about it all. All that stuff about you not wanting to broaden your experiences, still living here, she has no idea about anything. She so wrapped up in her own little world, trying to remake society, and she’s go no patience for anyone who doesn’t completely agree with her. ‘Struggle for the working classes’ my arse; she’s never been working class, never will. Personally, you’re much better off being apart from her; emotionally as well as geographically.”

“Well, I don’t need her now; not that I have you,” I replied. “She does have a point about me still living here; everyone has said that next year at Uni the workload will be much heavier, and I should see about moving much closer. I enjoy our time together in the car each day, driving to and from the city, but it does make for a long day.”

“Do you still want to see if we can find a place to live in, somewhere convenient to both the Institute and your University?” she asked. “We could share a place with some others, keep the costs down. I’m sure I could find a place with some others for us for next year. That’s assuming you would want to live with me; I guess I’m kinda jumping to conclusions.”

“Of course I would want to live with you,” I said. “We talked about that quite a while ago, and every so often over the last few months, we would sort of hint at that. Maybe we can start thinking about where we might want to find a place, all that stuff.”

“Now, your parents won’t be back until Sunday, is that right?” she asked. “What if you come and stay with me until they are back? I’ll call my mother a bit later when she’s home from school, just to make sure it’s okay with her. You won’t be too self-conscious sleeping with me while they are there, will you?”

“I never thought of that. I guess it will have to happen sooner or later, so we may as well start off with them knowing that we are ... you know, we are sleeping together.”

“How do you think your parents will react? I know mine will be pleased; almost relieved that we are finally together. Both your parents and mine have been colluding, trying to get us together for quite a while, you know.”

“So I guess when they know about how things are with us, they will all be happy.”

“Not as happy as I am, I’m sure!” she exclaimed. “We don’t have to get back to my place for another few hours, and the fire is nice and warm...”

She gently pushed me back down onto the rug, and kissed my nipples. Within a minute we were making love again; this time she straddled my waist, and rode me until we both came. She rolled off me, and lay next to me on the rug.

We were interrupted by the phone ringing; I had not turned the answering machine off, so we heard my father’s voice on the announcement, telling the caller to leave their name, time and a message. I got up and crawled to the phone on the kitchen counter, picked it up and pressed the hash key to stop the recording. It was my parents, calling from my Uncle’s place, wanting to see how things were going. I told them that I was getting better; all my vital signs were good, and I would be staying with Lori until Sunday. They said they would be home Sunday evening; all was well there; my grandmother was getting over ‘her turn’, as my mother called it.

I could detect a hint of an unasked question about my announcement that I would be staying with Lori; I decided a more complete explanation could wait until next week. After we finished talking, I hung up the phone, and hobbled back to where Lori was.

“It didn’t take long before I hated that stupid message,” she said. “The second time I called on Monday morning, while the phone was ringing, I spoke out loud, telling you to answer the fucking phone! Well, not that I actually said ‘fucking’ out loud, I think it was more like ‘Will, answer me’, or something like that.”

Her words made me go back to the incident on Monday morning, and I felt a strange shiver. I understood the words ‘like someone just walked on your grave’.

“I mean, silly of me to actually say that out loud, as if you could hear me,” she continued. “But I was frustrated, and I needed to speak with you. After that second call, when I left another recorded message, I somehow felt that something bad had happened to you. What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry,” I replied. If I told her that story, she would think I was going crazy. “Now, where were we before that phone call... ?”

She rolled over onto her back, and I moved above her, gently kissing her breasts and sucking each nipple. I moved my lips down over her stomach, and she sighed and spread her legs for me. I teased her, licking just around her swollen clit, then moving my tongue back up to her belly button, until she hit me.

“Stop teasing me like that, Will,” she protested. “Damn it, if you’re going to lick me, then do it properly! Don’t just torment me, I want you tongue and lips on my pussy!”

I moved around so I was between her legs, with my face right on her wet pussy. I parted my lips, and licked along her moist slit. I felt her hands grip my shoulders as I tongued her clit, and I tasted her sweet juices. I slid a finger inside her as I licked, and I rubbed inside her vagina. She came quickly, and she pulled me up so I was lying completely on her.

“Do you feel up to making love to me again?” she asked. “I know I’m being a bit demanding, am I too insatiable? Tell me if I am.”

“Shut up while I pump some sense into you,” I said, smiling as my prick slid into her.

I put my hands on her arms, leant up, and started thrusting into her.

“Pump some sense into me?” she said. “Is that what you call it? I’m feeling rather senseless, very stupid, and I need lots and lots of sense pumped into me. Yes, keep pumping just like that!”

I kept fucking her, hard and fast, but after a minute or two I had to stop. I felt completely exhausted; all the activity of the day (and the previous days) must have been catching up on me. I lay back on her chest, panting.

“Sorry, I’m just too worn out,” I said.

“That’s okay, we can just lay here with you inside me,” she said.

“Playing ‘hide the sausage’, sounds good to me.”

“Hide the sausage! Where do you get all those expressions from?”

“I’ve got lots of them; horizontal folk dancing, making the beast with two backs, get on the floor and grunt...”

Lori was now laughing so hard, I could barely stay inside her.

“Get on the floor and grunt!” she said. “That’s so ... Is that what you want me to do?”

“Well, it’s just an expression,” I replied. “Although I do love it when you get vocal; I like the positive feedback from you.”

“I’m not all that sure about grunting; you make us sound like we are animals, or something. Although ... there are times when I feel ... sometimes my desires are so strong, I feel like I should be a wild animal, you know; how you see on some of those Wild Kingdom documentaries, the lions or tigers or wolves mating. Sometimes I have fantasies about you taking me, ripping my clothes off, forcing me to the ground, and just ... just fucking me, like wild animals would. Am I being weird?”

“What’s weird about that?” I replied. “If you love me, and enjoy the, um, physical aspects of our relationship, then it’s only natural that you would want to do things that express that love.”

“But the fantasies I have sometimes, they’re not gentle and romantic, nothing like how we’ve been today. Sometime I feel like I want you to rape me, tie me up, and force yourself into me. I would want you to treat me like some slut, some cheap whore you’ve just picked up, and all you want to do is fuck me, regardless of what I might want.”

She pushed me off her, and sat up, facing away from me, and put her head down between her hands.

“I would want to feel like I am just a thing for you to use,” she continued. “I know you aren’t that type of guy, but sometimes ... I don’t know why, but I would like to feel that I was being treated just as a sex object, just something to be fucked. It’s completely the opposite of how I feel our relationship should be; that all I am is a vagina on legs, a wet cunt for you to fuck. Tell me it’s wrong for me to have desires like that.”

“It’s not my place to tell you that your personal feelings and desires are right, or wrong,” I replied. “If that’s a desire that you have sometimes, just accept that it’s a fantasy that you have. Whether we act on it or not; that’s something we would need to talk about at the time.”

“I read a scene in one of Mum’s books, where a couple staged a pretend rape scene; the guy tied the woman up, blindfolded her, and did all sorts of pretty degrading stuff to her. It was all consensual; they had planned it all out beforehand. But reading it really turned me on; for so many nights after I read it; that was all I could think about ... but you being the person to do that to me. I felt conflicted about the fantasies I was having; I know I would hate that to be done to me for real; I mean, to be actually raped, and all that. But knowing it was you...

“Anyway, I should give my mother a call; she’ll be home by now. Then we can have a shower, and go around to my place.”

Lori stood up, and went to the kitchen. I heard her talking to her mother; giving her a brief summary of what had happened to me, and asking if I could stay there with her for the next few days. Her mother must have asked Lori just where she wanted me to sleep, because I heard her reply “with me, in my bed, of course; where else would you expect?” I smiled; I can imagine just what Chris was saying to Lori. I knew there would be an explanation required about just what had changed our relationship when I got to the Earle’s place though.

Lori returned, and helped me get up and to the bathroom. We had a nice long warm shower; washing each other. She helped me dry myself; I was still a bit wobbly on my legs, as I couldn’t really put all my weight on the injured knee. Once we were dry, we went to my room so I could put my stuff into my backpack. With that, and my acoustic guitar, it was back outside; I made sure the fire was out before we left.

“So what do you think your parents will say about us sleeping together?” I asked. “I assume you intend for me to sleep with you, in your bed?”

“My father will say ‘It’s about bloody time’, or something like that,” she replied. “Mum asked my about that when I called, and I said of course we will be sleeping together. How do you think your parents will react?”

“Probably pretty much the same as your father,” I replied. “The times in the past when we split up; they were disappointed. I’m sure now that I’ve told them I’ll be at your place; their minds are working overtime, imagining just how things are with us, that all their plans have succeeded.”

“I’m sure my mother has already called my father, to tell him about the latest news with us,” she said. “I just hope Dad doesn’t go over the top with you ... he’ll be so happy that we are back together.”

When we got to Lori’s place; I said ‘hi’ to Chris, then took my stuff to Lori’s room. Once back in the kitchen, I had to tell Chris the full story of my accident; let her inspect the wounds to my head and shoulder; and explain how there was the initial concerns about bleeding into my brain.

We sat around the kitchen counter talking; I helped prepare dinner, and then had to repeat pretty much the complete story for Jack when he arrived home.

“What plans do you have for the next few weeks, Will?” Jack asked me.

I told him how next week I would be back at Uni helping Dr Lions test out some new software he had bought back from his sabbatical at Bell Labs. Apart from that, my calendar was pretty free.

“Remember we are going out on Monday night for my birthday,” Lori said.

“Sunday week, July 4th, there’s a fancy ball in town, for the US bicentennial,” Jack said. “Would you like to come with us, as Lori’s partner? It’s formal wear, so I’ll be wearing my dress uniform; you will have to wear a dinner suit.”

“I would love to go,” I said. “So it has been two hundred years since the US gained independence from England?”

“Well, not exactly, but the Declaration of Independence was signed on July 4th, 1776. The war went on for another few years, and didn’t really end until 1783. The ball is at the Hilton Hotel ballroom; all sorts of dignitaries will be there; it should be an interesting night.”

We talked further about various things; Jack asked me if my knee would be strong enough for me to go sailing on Sunday with Lori, since he wouldn’t be able to make it. Since it was one of the winter series races, where we couldn’t use the spinnaker, I felt confident that I would be okay on the boat.

“I saw something at work today, an article in the upcoming issue of the Communications of the ACM that I thought might be of interest to you,” Jack said. “Have you heard of the Xerox Palo Alto Research Center? They are doing some very innovative research on the next generation of computer technologies. I’ll get a bunch of papers that they have produced; you should find it interesting reading.”

We then spent the rest of the meal discussing some of the possible future directions in computers and networking technology, most likely boring Lori and Chris to tears. Jack seemed to be pretty much in touch with a lot of research projects in the US; but then as he said, all of those could have a major impact on the communications industry as a whole. After dinner, Lori and I cleared the table, and washed the dishes, putting things away.

“Are you sure you would like me to come with you next week while you’re doing your computer testing stuff?” Lori asked.

“Sure; I can show you around the place, and the task I have is to test out how well the computer terminals work on the new operating system; we want to make sure that as we put the system under a heavy load of character entry and display, it doesn’t lose or drop stuff. Having someone who can type accurately and fast will be critical. Besides, we can spend more time together.”

“That will be fun, and I like the thought of us spending time together. Mind you, we have been doing that a lot, anyway; pretty much two hours every day, in the car. As long as you don’t get sick of me hanging around.”

We sat around and watched TV until it was time to head off to bed. In Lori’s room, we started to get undressed.

“You know, I forgot to pack pyjamas in my bag,” I said. “I guess I’ll just have to sleep naked.”

“I was hoping so,” Lori replied. “I didn’t intend to wear anything, either. Just make sure you have some shorts or something to pull on if you need to go to the bathroom during the night.”

We helped each other get undressed, and then we got into bed, and pulled the covers up. I lay on my back, and Lori rested her head on my shoulder. I put an arm around her, and stroked her breast with my fingers.

“You know what you said earlier, when you spoke out loud to the phone, telling me to answer the phone,” I said. “You said that was just about midday, on the Monday?”

“Yeah, it was just before I made myself some lunch.”

“Now, you will probably think I’m crazy, or I was imagining things, but right when I was hit by the car, just as my head hit the ground, and everything exploded into a flash of colours, I thought I heard your voice, telling me to answer you. That’s why I had that strange reaction when you told me about you yelling at the phone.”

“You’re serious, right?” she asked me. I made a concurring “uh-huh” sound. “That’s so freaky, I think the words I said were ‘Answer me, Will, damn you, answer me’, or something pretty close to that.”

“That’s pretty much as I remember it,” I said. “Don’t ask me to explain it, but I heard your voice in my head, just as clear as I am hearing you now. That was right before I passed out. I didn’t just hear you, in my mind I saw you, right after I thought that I must be dying.”

“After I hung the phone up, I had a really bad feeling,” she said, “as if something bad had happened to you. I couldn’t explain it, it was just like, I don’t know, you were badly hurt, and needed me. Then later that evening, when there was still no answer at your home, I was getting really worried. What do you think it all means? Maybe there’s some deep subconscious connection between us? ESP and all of that.”

“I would like to think that; some special connection between us,” I replied. “Not that I believe in ESP, or any of that; but it’s ... well, it just struck me as strange that at the same time you were calling, and speaking out loud, I had that image in my mind. Just one of those mysteries of life, I guess. You sleep well, my love.”