Chapter 12: Tremors

I carried my suitcase inside, I didn't see Susan, so I took it to my room; Susan was asleep in my bed, nude.

She looked up and smiled. "Please come snuggle with me."

I stripped and crawled in next to her. We exchanged more or less mother-daughter type hugs and kisses and then both of us slept.

I woke up about four thirty in the afternoon, very much refreshed. For a while I watched Susan sleep; the relaxed smile on her face, the smooth lines of her body.

She woke up, looked at me and smiled. "I know what you want."

"I guess I'm pretty obvious."

"Well, guess what I want?" She rolled close, our lips met; not mother-daughter this time. We made love for a short while; both of us were intense, hot. And while Susan wasn't up to Marybeth finger fucking standards, she was quite good enough. Then I showed her what I'd learned.

"Homework." I said with a smile. To my surprise, Susan nodded, got out of bed and headed for her room, still nude. I dressed and went out into the family room.

Sherrie and Ann were sitting on the couch, holding hands. From the look on their faces, it wasn't hard to figure out what they were thinking.

I walked over and sat down on the coffee table in front of them, but I didn't say anything. Ann looked to be the most upset, but it was Sherrie it spoke first.

"I don't know what to say," she said, her voice tight with anger.

"That should always be a warning that maybe you need to think a bit more."

"Your own daughter?" Sherrie gargled in surprise.

"If you can't love your own daughter, who should you love?" I said simply.

"But sex with her..." Sherrie's voice trailed away.

"Sherrie, I'm not going to offer excuses, okay? I don't even want to try to explain it; I don't think I have to justify my actions to you.

"There you and Ann sit. Why aren't you sitting at home, Sherrie?"

"My parents kicked me out."

"Because they think what you did was wrong."

Sherrie looked at me and then looked away. "There has to be a line somewhere," she replied weakly.

"Be careful, Sherrie, about drawing lines."

"There is good and evil," Ann said.

"There is. Good is letting people be all they can be; evil is hurting people, keeping them from realizing their potential.

"If I was beating my daughter, that would be bad. It would be bad if I beat up anyone's daughter, if I beat anyone at all.

"You love each other, don't you?"

They smiled and nodded; I saw Ann squeeze Sherrie's hand. "But your parents think that's evil, don't they?" Sherrie shrugged. "Obviously, they don't see that making love is wrong or evil; just when the two of you do it together. They drew a line, cutting you off." I met Sherrie's eyes.

"To me, that's awfully close to an evil thing. When you draw lines, when you say 'these two people can make love, ' these two can't. That's keeping them from being what they can be.

"Anyone can draw a line, Sherrie. Anyone at all. I'm not a moral relativist; I do believe in right and wrong. I have learned lately that the beliefs I used to hold, which, I might add, were the same as your parents have until a couple of weeks ago; anyway, I learned that I was wrong. It's made me very sensitive about the lines we draw, that other people draw."

They both nodded. "I never thought of it like that," Sherrie's voice was quiet, thoughtful.

"Shouldn't there be limits?" Ann asked.

"Who sets the limits? You've set some. I've set some; your parents have set some. They are different; how do you reconcile the differences?"

They both shook their heads. "Too many people don't bother. They are sure in their minds they are right and you are wrong. Straighten out or ship out. You know what I mean."

"That straight was a low blow," Sherrie said with a grimace, "The shipping out... that hurt. Yeah, I see what you mean."

"When someone else decides that you can't be with someone you love, of course it hurts. I know how I want to reconcile my differences about lines drawn in the sand: I want to give the benefit of the doubt to someone who disagrees with me, but I want them to be willing to give me that same benefit of the doubt in return."

"How does that resolve anything?" Ann asked, obviously curious.

"It leaves me to decide if what I'm doing suits me or not. It lets them do the same thing. Maybe we won't make the best or wisest choice, but that should be for each of us to determine."

"So, you wouldn't have a problem if I decided to go out, get drunk, shoot up and sell my body on a street corner?" Ann asked.

"Reconciling differences involves communication. You explain what you think; someone else explains what they think. An exchange of ideas and opinions of those ideas.

"I know you want me to condemn what you just said; well, it would be easy to say I don't think it would be a smart thing for you or anyone else to do those things. Ann, I've had a drink or two in my life, a couple of times I've had too much to drink. Believe me, I didn't like it and I learned from that! So I'm careful, I don't drink more than a very little anymore.

"I smoked joints in college; I have the worst excuse: everyone did. I didn't like what it did to my head, it makes me dizzy, the world goes fuzzy. I decided it wasn't for me. I also didn't want to try anything else and haven't been tempted since.

"I've never sold myself on a street corner; not for money, not for a bottle of Ripple or MD 20/20. Living in New York, I could see people who did that every day; it's not my cup of tea at all.

"But, that said, my husband went to work every day. Every day he traded his bright ideas to the company he worked for, in exchange for money. Roger was a creative, intelligent person who was a whiz at figuring out where the stock market was headed; he was even better at telling what stocks were likely to go up or down. Tell me, which is worse? Selling your vagina to some horny guy for a few minutes, or selling your ideas to other people for decades?"

They were silent, obviously thinking. "We make moral judgments about ourselves, about others. It goes with being human. We just have to be careful when we try to draw those lines out from our ourselves and then try to apply them to others."

There was a knock on the door; I got up. It was Jackie.

She came in and saw Sherrie and Ann. "Sherrie, you'll never guess what happened this weekend!" With that, Jackie came and kissed me, a toe-turning, sweat-popping kiss.

"I liked last night," Jackie said softly. "I wondered if..."

"Jackie!" Sherrie said, startled. "I thought you said..." Her voice trailed away.

Jackie turned to Sherrie. "I like being with Laura, it's good for your soul."

"She slept with her daughter!" Ann, evidently, hadn't been convinced. "Her own daughter!"

Jackie looked at her and laughed. "Who cares? I was with Laura last night; I came over hoping to be with her again this afternoon. Tomorrow, I'm going to visit Marybeth. Who knows, one of these days I might even think about Coach. I have a lot of catch up to do."

"Ann," Sherrie said, hugging her partner, "Laura's right. How can we judge, when we don't want to be judged ourselves?" Sherrie stood up, tugging on Ann's hand. "Come on, let's go to bed. Let Jackie and Laura do the same."

Jackie smiled at me; I remembered the kiss, I leaned close and returned it. Stupid Nancy and 'cool it for a while'. I ran my hand over Jackie's bottom and she wiggled. "Mmmm!" Then it was lips meeting, tongues meeting; soon breasts were merged, then clits and tongues...

At one point Jackie was showering my pussy with kisses, and she took a second to leave off and look up at me, a smug grin on her face. "Ah, the energy and zeal of a new convert!" I laughed.

"I don't hear any complaints!"

"And you aren't going to!" Jackie continued to make my day; she made it several times.

We were lying later, in each other's arms. "I need to get up soon and make dinner," I told her.

Jackie nodded in understanding. Then with a grin, rolled over on top of me, pressing her mons against mine.

"I can't believe that I can't get too much of this," Jackie murmured.

I pressed back, arching my back, my hands going around her bottom and pulling us tightly together. "I know."

"And tomorrow I'll be like this with Marybeth." I could see her eyes on me.

"I told you, Jackie, you don't need my permission, it should be something you want."

"I do want it. I feel these funny tremors inside me; I start getting really horny. I can't imagine why I never let myself go, before."

I ran my hands over her smooth, firm, muscular bottom; God did it feel sexy!

"Being with you is really good, Jackie. Other girls... I like being with them too. I like the way I feel; sex has never been like this for me before. You're right; I don't think I can get enough.

"I like being with you, but this isn't love for all eternity."

Jackie pressed down again, rubbed her small breasts against mine. "No, I'm not ready for an eternity, either. I respect you like I've never respected anyone else; not any teacher, not the preachers at church, my parents. Not even Coach. Just seeing you makes my heart speed up, makes me all wet inside. But it's... physical."

"I know. So, tomorrow, I hope you and Marybeth enjoy your time together every bit as much as you and I are now." Jackie came then, moaning softly.

"Oh yeah!" she murmured.

Jackie lifted up. "Don't suppose you'd like another guest for dinner? I have to get back though, after that."

"I'd like it very much."

Jackie helped with preparations; after a bit, Sherrie did too. Jackie explained in great detail how it had been her choice to be with me, that I'd gotten the pressure to stop for her, for Amy.

Dinner conversation was a lot lighter than before. Sherrie put on an Enya CD, and we talked about cheer, about the rapidly warming weather.

Much later, I was alone in my own bed, smiling to myself. I know, I thought, looking upwards, you probably think I'm betraying you, Roger. I don't think so; I don't think I'm betraying anyone. I wanted so much to help these girls, other girls; was it wrong to take physical release and gratification in payment? It wouldn't be right as a quid pro quo, but if someone came into my arms, like Jackie, like Gail, like Susan and Jamie... I would have no regrets, none.

I got up the next morning; Susan wanted to go over to Jamie's. I assumed that meant she wanted to be with Linda. Then I remembered, it was a Monday; school might be out, but Linda worked. I drove Susan over there, came back home.

I'd started a list the night before, now I continued working on it. I called Children Protective Services, asked what I had to do. I made an appointment to go over in the afternoon to talk to them. I went online, looking for cheerleading schools. Not only couldn't I find one in Scottsdale, I couldn't find one in Phoenix; lot's and lot's of summer camps though.