Chapter 11

I was miserable all week. I couldn't even look at Eric without seeing the way he'd looked with Nancy. And he acted as if nothing at all had happened. It might have been a disastrous time if other things hadn't come up.

I think Nancy might have revised her own mental picture of what she'd gone through and made something of a heroine of herself. She probably did a little hinting among her own acquaintances and maybe did a little un-subtle challenging. Anyhow, a couple of the boys her age got her cornered after school and made it look like they were going to get a little of that hot stuff she was bragging about. Maybe they got a little rough. Only Mark just happened to show up. He kicked the shit out of them and gave them some dire warnings about what they could expect if they bugged Nancy any more. And right then and there she started worshipping him.

Well, there was no question she had the fixtures to interest a boy Mark's age. And he got interested.

That was the week when Ma Conner found out they were starting to do something in the Colorado mine her husband had gotten sweet- talked into buying a lot of stock in several years before his death, too. The way it looked, she was likely to be worth a hell of a lot more money than she'd ever be able to count. And with a little bit of excitement in her life for the first time, she didn't even look like the same person. I noticed Duane Fowler was getting a gleam in his eye and studying her when she wasn't looking.

In fact, he even started dating her. They weren't the world's most dramatic dates--he'd go down to the parlor and they'd have a drink or two in what she'd always insisted was her private "country" or she'd visit him in his apartment--but they had all the ceremony and pomp of real, serious dates.

The end of that week Ma came to my apartment and asked me to go downstairs with her. All very mysterious; she wasn't about to say anything about why. When I got down there she led me to her dressing room and poured out her heart. For a woman in her forties, she acted more like a girl my age. She was blushing and stammering and all excited. There was a whole lot of business about her being old fashioned and old before her time and everybody getting a second chance at life. And there was a lot of incoherent stuff about inhibitions and free expression of emotions and needs and a man's guidance... God, I don't know what all!

What it all boiled down to was she was getting liberated from all the old hang-ups and turning on to a new beat. So we went shopping for clothes more appropriate to the new Ma--"Gwen," she began insisting. We did it from the inside out. She wanted the sexiest stuff we could buy, and in Emporia it wasn't easy to get really sexy outfits. But we did find a couple of bras with half- cups and some bikini-type, sheer lace panties--bright red ones and black ones. And she settled for a couple of miniskirts--it turned out she had damn nice legs--and another skirt with slits up the sides. And some blouses for seeing through and some that simply had plunging necklines.

There was supposed to be this heavy "Liberation" date with Duane in his apartment. And we spent an hour and a half getting her ready for it. She finally settled for the scarlet panties and one of the peek-a-boo bras and a see-through blouse and one of the miniskirts. And we left her hair loose... just brushed the hell out of it... and plenty of make-up because that's the way she wanted it.

Duane didn't sound like a villain at all when he let her into his apartment. He even smiled at me and asked didn't I think Gwen was the swan who'd been an ugly duckling far too long. And he glanced over his shoulder at the little table--it seemed to be almost in the center of the living room--and then back at me with a sharing kind of grin. And Gwen let him lead her inside toward the couch and a coffee table with a tray of wine and goblets on it.

I was a little bit worried about Ma and I kept coming into the hall and going down by Duane's door to be sure everything was all right. Once, I heard her giggle and say, "Duane, darling! Really!

The table?" I gulped and listened, holding my breath.

"Oooh, Duane!... Oooh, I feel indecent! Eeeee!" And she giggled again.

I retreated to my apartment, shaken and on edge. Ma was getting a slightly modified version of what I'd experienced in that room and liking it! Maybe the difference was she'd come to have some kind of emotional attachment to Duane. He'd convinced her she was still young and desirable and she was ready to learn.

I did start out into the hall again; I just had to see if she kept on liking what he did. But Nancy appeared, pale and breathless. She ran to me.

"Lee! Omigosh, Lee! It's awful!"

"Huh? What's wrong?"

"Oh, Lee!" She shuddered and let me lead her through my room to the sun porch, where she sank into one of the rattan chairs and buried her face in her hands.

"Now, what's wrong, hon?"

"Oh, Lee! It's Ma! She's in Duane's apartment, and I... I... Well, the roof..."

"Uh-huh. Good view through his window, isn't there," I remarked dryly.

"Oh, dear! She... he tied her on the table, just the way he did you! And he's got her all undressed!... All naked!... And... And... and she let him!"

"Is she all right?"

"Oooh, he's doing terrible things to her! And making her do things to him!" She looked up at me, her eyes brilliant with excitement. "She likes it, Lee! She likes it!"

Mark had appeared in the door leading to his room.

I led her on. "What's he doing, hon?"

"He... he made her suck him! Her face got all red and excited looking, and when she stopped she was smiling! And then he went around behind her and... and..." She looked suddenly wistful. "I wish I weren't a virgin," she said softly. "Oh, God, Lee! Sometimes I think I'll die, I want IT so much!"

"Like now."

"Yes! Oh, why can't I be old enough?" And then, "Why doesn't Mark like me, Lee? I try so hard and he just doesn't!"

He came to her quickly. "Yes, I do! Nancy, I do like you!"

She started. Maybe she'd have stormed out of our apartment confused and angry at having been overheard any other time. Now she caught his hand and pressed it to her cheek, purring like a contented kitten. She was overwrought by what she'd been watching.

"Mark! Marky, you really do?"

"Sure! Of course, I do!"

She pulled his hand down over her neck and thrust it into the top of her blouse. "Oh, Marky! I just love you! I do, Mark!"

I backed away cautiously, settling myself in another of the chairs and watched. The girl seemed to have no sense of embarrassment or modesty. She forced Mark's hand onto her boob and held it there until he started squeezing and massaging. And while he played with the young, tender boobie, she unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. And she struggled with her bra fastener until she got it loose and could shed the restrictive garment.

Her voice sounded as thick as if she'd been drinking. "Oh, Marky, darling! Lee won't mind, will she?"

After a quick glance at me, Mark shook his head. "She won't mind."

He continued playing with her tit while she fumbled at his clothes with all the directness and un-self-consciousness of her youthful eagerness. When Mark was naked, she held his boyish hard-on in one hand and stood.

"Undress me, Marky; please?"

He grinned and unzipped her skirt. She continued to hold onto his cock while he removed skirt and panties, and her fingers moved gently and possessively, as if she felt confident because of the reasonable size of the young-cylinder.

They stood together, naked and slender and sweetly youthful, their bodies pressed close and their mouths meeting in a tender, happy kiss. But youth and excitement was too strong for tenderness. Their lips became greedy and demanding and their tongues probed and their bodies squirmed against each other. Mark's hands fondled her ass-cheeks and she dug at his back with her nails while their bellies rubbed each other.

Once, Nancy drew her mouth free long enough to ask me to undress, too. "More exciting!" she said breathlessly. "Please, Lee?"

I undressed, miserable because I was going to have to watch without doing anything. But while Mark was feeling her up, after tumbling her onto the lounge, Gunner came to me and whimpered, nudging at my knees with his muzzle. I held them tightly together, roughing his ears and laughing at him, but when he persisted I let him wedge his head between my thighs and sniff at my twitching pussy. He tongued it delicately, dabbing at the wetness that seeped over it, and I scooted down in the chair, sprawling and throwing my knees apart for him. With a blissful expression and a satisfied whine, he started lapping at my slit. His tongue drove between the sticky faces of my pussy-lips and dug at the rim of my quivering cunt-mouth. I moaned softly, my hips jerking and my fingers groping along the arms of the chair.