Chapter 4

“You know, strictly speaking, that’s rape,” I pointed to the scene from Game of Thrones that we restarted on HBO.

“I wouldn’t press charges,” Becca confessed now to my shock.

“Me, neither!” Melanie agreed, surprising me further.

“Nor I,” Paige added her voice.

“Nope, not a chance. See how she stops really fighting him after a while. She’s pissed at him, but she still wants the brotherly dick,” Janine made it four ladies all agreed that they wouldn’t object to Ser Jaime Lannister taking them by force.

“So, wait, let me see if I get this straight here. I’ll even pause it for you,” I paused the show to prove my point, “you’re all telling me that if Ser Jaime Lannister, specifically, forced you to have sex with him, if he raped you, you’d be happy with him?”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Becca giggled now.

“What’s another way of putting it, then? I’m a bit confused as to female psychology here. Modern culture repeatedly says that ... you know, ‘no means no.’ If you ignore the ‘no’ and go ahead, it’s rape. Period. End of story. Go to jail. Go directly to jail. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Or in Westeros, it’s the knife or the black. Those are your choices. Castration or lifelong celibacy along a frozen wall of ice. Mind you, I would take the black myself, just because there’s some hope there. Castration, that’s the end of all hope. At least in terms of sex.”

“I’d love to be a Mole’s Town whore or a Wildling, especially if I could grab you, yank down your black trousers, and take you by force,” Janine added, which really raised eyebrows now.

“Months later, there’s a little Wildling or Mole’s Town bastard named Snow, too. Simon Snow. It has a nice ring to it, if you think about it,” Paige backed her friend up there.

“Well, I’d like to be the Red Woman. Or a Red Priestess of some kind, anyway,” Melanie told me bluntly.

“Why’s that?” Becca asked her for me.

“So I could seduce Simon and birth a shadow demon to destroy anyone who he hated. I can already tell that, no, whatever else may be true about him, his fires DO NOT burn low! I would connive, fuck, mesmerize people, do whatever enchantments it took, but I would plant Simon’s ass on the Iron Throne where it belonged!” Melanie freely admitted her feelings about me once again.

“Wow, honey, you got it bad, Sis!” Becca teased Melanie, “not that I blame you. As I said, I wouldn’t press charges.”

“What does Jaime Lannister have to do with that issue ... it’s entirely separate matters of Westerosi law,” I objected.

“Um ... your sister didn’t mean that she would accept whatever Jaime Lannister wanted to do to her. She meant ... something else entirely,” Paige stipulated now, to my shock.

“Yeah, she meant if HER BROTHER did it to her, she wouldn’t press charges, cutie!” Janine spelled it out for me.

“And last time I checked, Becca only had one brother. His name wasn’t Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. The Cherryslayer, maybe. But not the Kingslayer,” Paige licked her lips now.

“Yep, she meant you, honey buns! I know your sister. I know how she thinks. She’s into you, far more than she lets on, but she doesn’t dare cheat on Eddie more than she already has. She’s fighting those urges, but only to try for damage control here. She has to give you something, especially now that she’s promised it, but she can’t give up the whole nine yards. Just a little. You know, a little ... yardage. You’re not in the end zone for a touchdown, but this is only the first quarter, babe,” Melanie bit her bottom lip and visibly touched herself a little now.

“Yeah’s there’s plenty of downs to go. Just don’t let the defensive line stop you, and no, that ain’t us. That’s Eddie. If anyone sacks you, it will be him. And none of us want you to be sacked here. Least of all Becca,” Paige agreed, even though she blushed, too.

“It’s not dislike of Eddie, either. He’s a swell guy. It’s just that ... we love Becca. We have seen that life is short. We’re not ... indestructible. We don’t have a future promised to us, one to work for anymore. There is no tomorrow anymore. Sorry, Sheryl Crow, but tomorrow HAS died! The fall of Western Civilization is probably here now. Winter is coming, you know. We want her to live a little before we all die. Yeah, you hear us, Becca, dear. Winter is coming ... and so should you,” Janine asserted to my utter amazement.

“It’s the End of The World as we know it, and I feel fine?” I quoted the famous REM lyrics.

“Something like that,” Melanie winked at me as she darted between my legs and started sucking my cock like it was a Habana cigar.

“OH, MY GOD!” Heather cried out as she walked in on us, “I guess that this is what I get for secretly copying your house key, but ... damn! Oh ... wow ... that girl is sucking you harder than a Dirt Devil! I so hoped that you’d get some action, and boy, you really did! That blondie ... she’s got smaller tits than me, but that’s easy to do ... and she’s ... wow, no one can fault her enthusiasm!”

“Oh, hi, Heather,” I smiled at my neighbor, “So, you copied my house key, did you? What for, dear?”

“To walk in on you and surprise you, of course. I didn’t want you to know that I was coming, you see. I guess that I was the one who got the surprise, though! Wow ... just wow! So, I see that you know Paige, too. Small world, but she’s in my synagogue, you know. Heather Rosenberg, just for the record. I understand if you can’t rise up and shake my hand yet. You’re a little ... busy,” Heather winked at us now.

“Do you typically compare cock size at temple?” I teased Heather now.

“Of course!” Paige supported Heather on this point, “it’s an entire religion where part of the oral Law requires men to sexually satisfy their wives. What do you think?”

“I’m still not sure that the rabbis would approve of that kind of talk,” Janine teased them both.