Chapter 12B

Ronnie stepped out of the shower and I got a fleeting glimpse of her willowy torso and small tits and slinky figure and her diminutive, silky pelt before she wrapped a big towel around her. She dried quickly, walking into the living room, drying her black hair with a smaller towel and holding the bigger towel around her front. She said, "No lotion yet, Steven?" She added in her bad Southern accent, "You country critters ain't used to the kind of sun you get here in the Big City on Fahr Island."

Martha said, "I'm working on him, Ron."

Ronnie spread the towel on the floor and stretched over it face down and then rested on her tummy, and she joked, "Uh-oh, Martha's working on ya. You don't stand a chance. Martha always gets her way." She relaxed face down, arms extended past her head.

I found myself on my knees on the floor between two nubile, naked women. Ronnie yawned and said, "Steven, I know that only rude, demanding, really bitchy women make requests like this, but... when you finish Martha, can you do my back?"

I said okay, and I finished Martha's legs. When I shifted over to work on Ronnie's back, Martha looked at me and asked if I were still embarrassed. I said no. She asked, "Then why do you still have your shorts on?" I balked, wondering if I could conceal a recurrence of the hard-on's I had earlier, and Ronnie said, "I wonder if men are more embarrassed about it than women." Martha said she thought that might be true, because the popular conception was that women's bodies were pretty and displayable and men's weren't, and Ronnie said she remembered reading that women were ten times more exhibitionistic than men. "I mean," Ronnie said, "Look at the magazine rack. The pinups and most ads are pictures of women, not pictures of men."

I watched as Ronnie and Martha, lying on their tummies and facing each other, grinned and winked. So I stood up and said, "All right, you two, you made your point," and they snickered and carried on between them while I removed my clothes. Martha smirked when she saw I was a little firm, and Ronnie saw too and turned her head the other way, resting it on the floor. Ronnie said, "All right, I won't look. Just don't leave my back alone. Its crying for attention." I knelt down and wet my hands with lotion and spread it lightly on Ronnie's back, and she moaned and said, "Oh, I thought it was the sun that was so warm, but it was Steven's hands!" Martha looked up at me warmly and asked, "We're not being too demanding, are we, hon? Ronnie and I are so used to each other. We've been on that beach dozens of times, and we always shower and rub down with lotion when we get home." I smiled and said it was okay, and Martha rose onto her elbows and watched me rubbing Ronnie. Martha said, "I hope we can get Steven used to us. We'll be going out there again before he leaves." And Ronnie said, "Well, you two shouldn't be exactly strangers to each other," and when Martha didn't say anything, Ronnie tensed and asked, "Martha, did I say the wrong thing again?" Martha said quietly, "No, hon." And Ronnie murmured out of the side of her mouth with her mouth near the floor, "Leave it to Ronnie to open her big mouth. Just nail my lips to the floor. I'll be quiet." Martha said again, "It's fine, Ronnie," looking up at me to see if I had reacted to Ronnie. I smiled at her and shook my head to tell Martha I didn't mind.

Time passed and the candles lowered. Ronnie moaned a couple of times as I rubbed, and I moved down to cover her legs and then moved up to put lotion on her supple, compact derriere. She smiled and said, "hmm," and I finished rubbing that part of her quickly, feeling blood rush to my groin. But I saw Martha looking at me, and she pointed at Ronnie's tush, scowling. I tilted my head at her, questioning, and she frowned and pointed at Ronnie's tush again, twice, so I laid my palms gently on the soft globes, and Martha nodded. I let my hands rest on Ronnie, who lay silently with her eyes shut. I looked at Martha. She nodded again. I took a breath: what was Martha up to? I massaged Ronnie's tush, faking it a little by also kneading the small of her back, at which she grunted, eyes closed, "Mmp. Good. Oh, that's the spot." But daringly I kept returning to her tush, wary, and Martha nodded again. When Ronnie didn't scream in horror I let my palms rest on her cute, tanned tush again, more affectionately, and after a couple of seconds Ronnie turned her head toward Martha and rested her head on the rug again and said, "Steven found my Achilles' heel, Martha. What technique. Really, you could get a job at Fiore's." Martha beamed at me childishly and wiggled her feet and said, "Me, too, Steven. You didn't do all of me," and I said, "Sure. I wouldn't want that to peel," and Ronnie chuckled at that. I left Ronnie and moved to Martha and rubbed lotion on the back of Martha's legs and then massaged lotion lingeringly onto her tush, and she smiled, pleased, and Ronnie opened her eyes to watch Martha and Martha glanced at Ronnie and grinned sheepishly at her. Ronnie said, "See? I told you he had great hands." Martha said slowly, "Yes, Ronnie, I know about Steven's hands." Ronnie crooked an elbow and leaned her head on her raised hand, her small, erect breasts retaining their shape as she moved slightly onto her side. She watched Martha as I rubbed, and then looked up at me, and then back at Martha, and I saw Martha wink at her and then close her eyes and smile. Ronnie got another cigarette and lit up and leaned on her arm again and just watched us, her face expressionless. But there was something in her dark eyes again, inexplicable and vaguely sensual. During the brief moments as I worked on Martha I glanced at Ronnie now and then, and she would glance back, her expression unchanging and impenetrable. I finished Martha with a couple of loving strokes and a squeeze. Then Martha rose on her elbows and said, "Okay, Steven, your turn. Lie down."

I gave it a moment's thought, but Martha insisted, "C'mon, lie down." I lay face down between them, grateful for the chance to hide my rising penis. I closed my eyes and folded my arms on the floor and rested my face on my forearms. I heard Martha slither lotion on her hands. She spread her palms on my back and rubbed thoroughly, then languorously. She said to Ronnie, "Steven likes the soft touch, at first." She massaged me gently for a long moment and then said to Ronnie, "Here, you do him." I heard Ronnie wet her hands and then felt her long-fingered, hot hands making feathery trails up and down my back and across the back of my neck, and my cock got harder. Then someone, probably Martha, whispered, "Try this," and Ronnie's hands left and reappeared as fingers trailing down my thighs, and the young dark brown hair on my legs and arms bristled, and I heard Ronnie give a little squeal and a chuckle and she said, "Mm, he likes that," and Martha said, "Yes, he does." After lightly rubbing my legs for a minute she gripped me on my lower calves and ran her hands firmly up my legs to the tops of my thighs, saying "It brings the blood from the legs to the heart. Fiore taught me that." I moaned approvingly into my forearms; it did feel pretty good. Then Ronnie's hand left me again and I heard her lather and then she spread her fingers over my buttocks lightly and she gently rubbed lotion on me there, giving my globes a little squeeze before trailing her fingers across the skin, whispering, "I'd die for a tush like this," and Martha said, "He's so cute back there," and Ronnie murmured, "Very cute. I'm envious." Then her fingers made long, slow, feathery trails over my buttocks and then across the back of my thighs and back up to my buttocks and up my back, and then back down, and she did that several times. Then her fingers went downwards they skimmed gently over my butt and along the crack to my thighs, and she did that again, and trhen again, slowly. Then as her fingers flitted down my crack they ever so sneakily grazed the hair on my balls. I jerked and gave a little yelp, and Ronnie whispered laughingly, "Sorry, sweetheart. That was an accident. Really." As Ronnie recapped the lotion bottle she laughed shyly and told Martha, "God, Martha, you don't have those things on you when I give you a rubdown. I'm not used to them. They're so mysterious and amazing, and I never saw them from this angle." They both tittered about that, and Ronnie said guiltily, "Oh, Martha, we're being so--" and they both sniggered, and Ronnie said, "Well, he's--" and Martha said quickly and insistently, "Shh. He'll be all right," and Ronnie whispered something brief that I couldn't make out. Martha replied "Mm-hm" in agreement and then whispered a couple of words back. Then Martha said soberly, "All right, let's settle down," and then she touched my arm and asked, "You still okay?" With my face against my arms I nodded yes, and then Martha leaned on me from behind, one firm nipple against my back, and she stroked the back of my neck and said to both of us, "Touch is so reassuring, isn't it? It can be so comforting." Ronnie said, "Oh, yes. They say that of all the senses, the sense of touch brings the most pleasure," and Martha said, "I love touching. Steven's a toucher, too. Steven, does that feel nice?" I nodded yes. My cock pressed unpleasantly into the hard floor.

Martha said, "Ronnie, Steven and I still hold hands in the movies, like old friends," and Ronnie said, "Really? That's so sweet, you two are so sweet with each other. I was holding his hand in the movie yesterday, but I never knew his hands were that warm *all* the time. I thought it was just being indoors at the movie." Martha said, "It's nice to just sit and hold hands. Steven, remember the Suzore's, and all those Bowery Boys movies?"

I cleared my throat and lifted my head slightly to murmur, "Yeah, I remember that. I even had dreams about it. She's a great hand holder."

Martha gave a pleased little laugh and said, "Dreams? You liked holding hands with me that much?"

I nodded yes and then I felt Martha lower her head. Her hair grazed my shoulder and her lips touched my back. She skimmed her lips across my back, barely touching, and she said to Ronnie, "Lips are nice, too. They're more exciting than just touching. But they're soothing when you do it right. Steven likes it this way," and she gave my back a little kiss with the inside of her lips and said, "Such nice skin. Everyone in his family has touchable skin. Try it, Ron." Ronnie said, "Me?" and Martha said, "Yes, go ahead," and Ronnie leaned close to my head and said, "Is it okay, Steven?" I nodded yes, and braced myself during a long pause and heard Martha say, "Go ahead. He won't jump on you." Ronnie said, "I'm not afraid of being jumped on. I'm more afraid we'll drive him crazy and he'll run away." Martha said, "He won't," and Martha leaned closer to me and put her hand on my shoulder and said, "Just relax. Trust. Okay?" I nodded, saying to myself: fat chance! What in the world was Martha trying to do to me? And the next thing I knew, close to my ear was Ronnie's voice, soft, alluring, and she said, "Trust me? Hm?" And, one more time, I left my fate in their hands and said "Okay."

A few seconds later Ronnie's lips were on my back, gliding moistly a couple of inches across, and my cock lurched under me and I uttered under my breath a low "Mmm." Ronnie said, "Hmm, yeah. Nice. Hey, you smell good. Under the lotion I can smell you, it's... like wheat, maybe, a little like wheat. I thought all guys smelled like sweat and beer." Martha said, "Steven hates beer," and I cleared my throat and said, "Yeah, I can't stand beer," and Ronnie said, "Good for you, sweetheart," and she teased me, "But you do sweat, right?" I said sarcastically, "I'm workin' on that right now," and they chuckled and Ronnie gave my shoulders an affable squeeze and gave my back an admiring stroke and said gently, "Well, you just accept the compliment and don't 'sweat it'. You have a nice, healthy body and healthy habits, so it's no wonder you feel and smell so nice. I wouldn't be at all embarrassed about it. Okay?" I didn't reply. I kept my face nestled tightly against my arms. Martha said, "He has a problem with compliments, Ron, he can't really handle them," and Ronnie stroked my shoulders and said, "Eh, lots of people have that problem. He'll get over it," but Martha joked, "No. He's incurable." Ronnie said, "But look at him, he's so lean and strong." I could have agreed with that, considering the hidden effect her long fingers and incredibly warm hands were having on me. Ronnie bent down and held her arm near my face and asked, "Do I smell like anything?" I sniffed her arm and said, "Coppertone," and she said, disappointed, "Is that all?" and I sniffed again and said, "Hm, it's like... Well, I don't know what it's like, but it *is* nice... kinda sweet." Ronnie asked "You mean like soap from the shower?" and I said, "No, it's not soap, it's just... not anything I could describe." She said, "Well, congratulations, I didn't use soap. It's too drying after a day on the beach. See? You guessed right. Here--" The next thing I knew, she took Martha's arm and held it near my face and said, "Try Martha, now," and I sniffed Martha's all too familiar flesh and said, "Mm-hm. Nice. But..." and Ronnie prompted, "But different, right?" I saw that she was right and I nodded yes, and she said with her lips near my ear, in that low, seductive voice of hers, "It's an animal thing, it's our natural sense of someone who's frightened, or unfriendly... but we lose sight of so many of our natural senses. And when that happens, we don't trust our bodies any more. Or each other." She put her lips to my hair and I heard her inhale and she said, "Mm. Nice, too." She rose and said sarcastically, "We look like a bunch of eskimos, sniffing each other." We laughed at that and Martha joked, "We oughtta be using whale oil instead of Coppertone." Martha said to me, teasing Ronnie, "She really has this nose thing, Steven, I oughtta warn you," and Ronnie insisted, "Well, I like a body that has a nice feel and a nice smell, and he has both." Then Martha leaned close to my ear and said, "Time to roll over, Steven."

I didn't move. I lay rigid.

Martha said, "Come on, roll over. You don't want your front to peel."

But I remained still, and I heard Martha give a small laugh of surprise. She gave my shoulder a nudge and said, "Come on, roll over. What's the matter?"

Ronnie said, "Uh, well, I think the lip treatment might have made Steven a little, uh, you know... al dente?"

Martha laughed again and asked with obvious amusement, "Steven, are you hard?"

I didn't stir.

She asked, "Are you?" I nodded yes, and both women laughed indulgently. Martha entreated gently, "Come on, it won't be anything we haven't already seen. Come on. We'll be careful."

I shook my head no, and Ronnie said, "Oh, Martha, don't push him. I don't care myself, but you saw how embarrassed he was today."

Martha implored enticingly, "Oh, come on. Don't be ashamed of feeling good. Doesn't it feel good?" and I nodded and she said, "So come on and roll over," and I shook my head, firmly this time, and Martha asked, "How about if Ronnie closes her eyes?" and I shook my head no again. Why wouldn't Martha leave me alone? Another look at either Martha or Ronnie and I'd probably blow my wad.

Then Ronnie's lips were near my ear and she whispered sympathetically, "You want us to wait a minute? I forget that guys are more bashful about this sort of thing than women are. It's easier for us girls to hide the, uh, visual evidence, y'know? Want us to wait? We'll wait if you want. C'mon, say yes." I nodded yes. Her hand touched the back of my neck and she said to Martha, "Martha, he really is touchable," and Martha nodded her head toward Ronnie's hand on my neck and said, "Ronnie, I don't think touching him helps right now. I think he has to get a little more used to us non-Catholics, first," and Ronnie removed her hand and said, "Yeah, right. Sorry."

I heard and felt them both sit up and Martha sighed and said, "Okay, Steven, we'll wait if you want. I don't want to embarrass you, you know that," and Ronnie said, "Come on, Steven, I understand," and she chuckled and then I heard them both give muffled, whispered laughs and Martha said, "I hope we didn't overdo it." Ronnie said, "Oh, he can't be that excited." Martha said, "Ronnie, see how different it is when you're gentle, and loving, and your body is nice to someone else's?" and Ronnie said, "Jeez, I'm so used to just being grabbed and pitched around." Martha said, "Well, some people like that, I guess," and Ronnie said, "I'm sick of the volleyball treatment, myself." I heard Ronnie light a cigarette behind me and after a puff Ronnie said, "He really does have nice proportions, and he looks so mature. Some guys do mature early, one of my brothers was like that. Why's he so shy about it?" Martha said, "Give up, Ron. I told you. He's incurable." Ronnie said, "Sometimes that can be nice in a guy. I can certainly identify with it." I felt Ronnie settle on the floor beside me, and she asked, "Steven? Ready yet?"

I muttered against my arm, "Almost."

Ronnie said, "Martha, he can't be that big. I mean, you saw him, he was just--you know..."

Martha said, "You measured him, Ronnie?"

Ronnie said, "Of course not. He looked pretty normal to me."

Martha said, "Well... that was earlier."

Ronnie asked, mildly impatient, "So how do you know so much about his recent development? Huh? Have *you* been walking around here with a tape measure? So... you're just gonna sit there with that secret grin of yours, and not let me in on this?" Ronnie said to me, "Steven, it looks like Martha doesn't snitch. You can be proud of her."

Martha said slyly, "Keeps you guessing, Ron,"

Ronnie said sarcastically, "I'm guessing, Martha."

Martha reminded me, "You know, Ronnie saw plenty of nude models in art school. She's definitely seen some strange bodies," and Ronnie muttered, "God, that's for sure. Not all in art school, either." They waited several seconds, and then Martha called softly, "Steeevennn. Did you calm down yet?"

I shook my head no.

She complained, "Hon, aren't you down just a little?" and I said, "Almost," and Ronnie asked Martha again, "Gee, I thought guys would be proud of that, not embarrassed. You're just exaggerating, Martha. C'mon, fess up." Martha said, "Oh, size doesn't matter so much. It's the shape that counts," and Ronnie asked, "Shape?" and Martha said, "You'll see. Come on, Steven."

Reluctantly I raised my head and groaned "Okay" and shifted onto my side. I saw Martha peering around my body at my slowly settling but still prominent cock. She smiled and said, "Okay, that's better," and Ronnie gave me an affable wink and mouthed the words, "It's okay."

Martha gently shoved me onto my back, imploring me patiently, "Come, relax, come on." I shifted to get comfortable on the floor and put my hands behind my head while Martha and Ronnie settled onto their folded legs on either side of me. Martha spread lotion on her hands and held her hands still on my chest for a moment. I closed my eyes. The sight of two attractive nude bodies and four breasts above me was not not a relaxing vision at the moment.

Martha lotioned my chest and waist and my left leg. While she worked on my legs, I felt a couple of fingers touch my cheek, and I opened my eyes to see Ronnie bending close to me and studying something on my face. She said, "Mm, they've all gone away." I said, "Yeah, between Martha's facial and Fiore's workout, they didn't stand much chance." She said, "Good. They say it's supposed to be a natural occurrence, but who believes that? It's hokum. Lookit that, you can hardly see. That's good. Your skin has a good glow, too." I said, "Thanks," and she said, "Don't mention it." And she gave me another once over with her eyes and then her eyes settled on mine again, and she smiled and said, "Her hands feel good on you, don't they?" and I nodded yes, and she said, "Good. Learn to enjoy your body, not to be embarrassed by it," and I said, "Okay." But she kept looking at me, and she lifted her face a little and her eyes roamed quickly over my face and hair across my shoulders and she said, "You have a very nice body." It was an effortless, direct statement, spoken almost in a monotone. Her tone of voice was neutral; she might just as well use the same voice to say I had nice fingernails. I blinked, growing embarrassed again under her gaze, and she saw my blush and she smiled and whispered, "It's all right to close your eyes and enjoy." I closed my eyes.