Chapter 5

Six forty five came very early to someone who had staggered to bed just before two. Too early; it took fifteen minutes for the regularly increasing volume of the alarm clock to bring Marion fully to her senses. Lurching up, her soaked crotch reminded her of the previous evening's activity, but she didn't have time to deal with it - Twyla was going to be late! She snatched at a tissue, and dabbed at herself on the way to her daughter's room. Usually, she'd be wearing panties, but ten minutes' search had failed to surface where she'd flung them at Aaron's. Rushing into her daughter's room, she shook her shoulder, "Twy, get up! You're late! It's seven already!"

"Mmph! What happened?" Twyla asked, blearily, sitting up.

"I overslept," Marion admitted, "Guess I'm not the nite owl you are..."

Twyla focused instantly. "So, Mother," she teased, "when DID you get home? I'll not ask how it went..."

"About two," Marion related. "Why not?"

Twyla was grinning from ear to ear. "Well, aside from the fact that you're walking funny and could probably glow in the dark, there's that stuff running down your leg..."

"Oh!" The tissue, which Marion had been secreting in her left hand, came out, and Marion began an embarrassing and awkward attempt to stop drips under her nightie while Twyla giggled. Climbing out of bed and going to her dresser, Twyla blandly announced, "I recognize the problem; I get it quite a bit, lately."

"Ummm, yeah." Marion, thoroughly embarrassed, got out of there. In the bathroom, she finally settled upon a tampon as a cleanup device, (Boy, talk about tender! She'd been seriously stretched and rubbed on!), and made for the kitchen to make breakfast for herself and her daughter.

Twyla came in and watched her mother move about for a moment, grinning. "Sore?"

"Um, yeah. It's been a while." Marion admitted.

"Good sore?"

"Yeah," Marion sighed, "Very."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Yeah, but not now - there's not enough time. Later? I've got some thinking to do, anyway..." Marion's pensive expression puzzled Twyla, but she was right; there was no time. She dropped it.

As it was, Twyla held Mickey up for five minutes when he arrived, messing with makeup. Mickey was heard to whine, "C'mon, Twy, do it in the car! I don't want you looking THAT good, anyway - I can't handle the competition!"

Marion showered and cleaned up for work, pensive. 'Now what?' was the question foremost in her mind. Would Aaron ignore her? If he did, would it be because he was done with her, or because they were at work? What if he didn't? Where could they have any peace? And what did SHE want him to do? That was unclear; last night had been sweet, but... This control thing - she just didn't know about it...

Aaron waited until eleven thirty, during Marion's first pass through the kitchenettes, and caught her in a semi-enclosed one off the next radial hallway. Making work out of his tea preparations, he leaned across, whispered, "When can I see you again?"

Marion glanced around, but they were alone. "I don't know," she replied, "Last night was... unexpected. And taxing. I'm sore..."

Aaron glanced around nervously, but his hand settled familiarly on her hip. "You're okay?"

"Uh huh. But..." She paused, "I'm still... not sure..."

Well, he'd rolled the dice... "I don't think YOU think I'm asking that much..."

Her glance flicked up. "No, but that's not all there is to it, is it?"

"There are... implications," he replied, hesitating, "A whole range of them. I can't tell you..." Someone entered the room, and the conversation ended abruptly. Aaron left, filled with disquiet. Had he gone too far? He didn't THINK so...

Marion completed her morning chores on automatic, distracted. What on Earth was she going to do? Aaron was... sweet. Compared to Ed, he was the White Knight! But these weird ideas... Marion had a tough time thinking of herself as a slut, even as a matter of untapped potential. Sure, she liked her sex, and Aaron - well, Aaron had rocked her world! But did that make her a slut?

On the other hand, there was Aaron's answer. She'd stood there in that Men's Room, staring at him and that cock, and if his eyes had so much as flickered, her knees would have hit the tile. Maybe he should have done it; maybe, if he had, she wouldn't be capable of questioning his stance on the matter. Maybe she wished he had...

Marion shivered, something that had nothing to do with the temperature, and hurried to her car. Was this a onesie? In the face of Aaron's continued interest, did she possess the strength to keep it that way? Why on Earth would she WANT to?

Aaron, watching her leave from the third floor windows, had similar dark thoughts. What if he'd pushed her too hard? Would her instinctive fears drive her away, despite the fact that she'd obviously enjoyed their time together? And could he afford to let that happen?

Arriving home, Marion handled domestic preparations for lunch and a little laundry, and lay down for a short nap until Twyla's arrival at two- thirty. Sleep brought uneasy dreams, an odd mix of fear and pleasure. A hand that touched her gently, then suddenly stung. And the results were the same; she moved not a muscle, but felt joy... The alarm woke her, and she washed her face, but the frown lines didn't wash away.

Twyla arrived home, Mickey in tow, but one look at her mother's face and she shooed him out promising him the evening. The grace with which he accepted this told Marion that an evening's pleasure was implicit in that promise. When Twyla joined her at the kitchen table, her first shot was, "Are they all that easy to please?"

Twyla blushed and smiled. "Sometimes. Mickey and I go back quite a ways, and we have our shared interests, trust, and friendship - but sex is wonderful for both of us; I'll not deny him. I promised him I wouldn't..."

"You WHAT?" Marion erupted, amazed. This was so close to what SHE was dealing with. And it was somehow odd...

Twyla took a bite of her sandwich, pensive, then took a shot at explanation, "Some of the girls at school have decided that it isn't fair to clamor for equality in other things, but wield the whip where sex is concerned. Girls want to be treated the same as boys at work and play, but they want to hold unfair advantage over them where sex is concerned, playing games with double-standards, being capricious, and acting like whores to get what they want."

"Whores?"

"Uh huh. Whores," Twyla asserted. "A whore prostitutes herself to get things she wants - money, jewels, a meal ticket... And generally, they're dishonest about it. Most girls learn a game at their mother's knee that has been popular for centuries, a bait and switch tactic designed to get them a permanent provider while doing as little as humanly possible! Promise him joy and happiness, and above all, SEX - all he has to do is marry you... And then, AFTER he's bought the pig in a poke, if it all becomes too inconvenient, play the 'oppressed female' card!" Disgust crossed her features. "Chivalry isn't dead, but it SHOULD be!"

"So you promised Mickey sex?" Marion didn't get it.

"Not at first, no," Twyla admitted. "You saw us that night. It all started with a talk in the Ladies' Room with one of the girls - a girl who was getting a lot of male attention by acting outrageous. She told me that I had everything it took to compete with her - all I had to do was step up to the plate, and be serious about it. She even suggested a tactic..."

"Oh?"

"You're not gonna like this..." Twyla opined. "Dina was gathering male eyes - including Mickey's - by showing her tits, among other things. It kind of crystallized things at the Prom; girls who were all show and no go couldn't hold their dates' attention - but girls who were willing to commit to SOMETHING could... It didn't have to be sex, but it wasn't enough to talk trash, or just be decorative; there had to be follow-through. Some of this kind of fell out of Mandi's Rules..."

"Mandi's Rules?" This was ALL news to Marion...

"Mandi is a girl at school who hadn't gotten much attention until a couple of weeks before the Prom - but she went solid gold, fast! She met a boy, and they hit it off, but he had some really modern ideas about what was fair in a relationship. Well, long about their third date, she wanted to feel his hands on her back - something that happened while they were dancing on their first date, because she'd been wearing a halter. But THIS night, she was in a blouse - and there was another couple there! So she proposed the following rule: If she let him touch something, but not see it, future access was hers to control. But if she let him see AND touch it, it was his, on demand, conquered territory - she couldn't wave it in front of him one night, and deny it the next. This let her take off her blouse without appearing to be a slut..."

"You never win that way," Marion pointed out. "You stand to lose territory every date!"

"Who wants to win?" Twyla returned. "If you date a boy two dozen times, well, are you gonna continue to see a boy you DON'T want to get in your pants? Think about it!" Twyla paused a moment, taking another bite and chewing it reflectively. "Mandi goofed up and lost ground really fast - it seems she'd told Rick, her boyfriend, of a time when she could be caught out virtually naked - but it all worked out and the whole thing set a new standard for boy-girl relationships, one where the girl had to bring something to the table besides empty promises. Think about it, Mother - why is divorce such a big thing? In general, now - not you and Dad..."

"Couples find out they're not compatible?" Marion hazarded.

"Uh huh - generally, because the girl stops acting once things settle down. Oh, guys do it too, but they're such simple creatures, don't you think?" Twyla grinned. "Mostly, it's because once she's married a girl doesn't have to primp like a movie star any more - and sex, if she provided it at all, isn't important. But to guys, it's ALWAYS important - they think with that thing! So it's, like, breach of contract - false advertising!"

"Hmph. You're right - that doesn't describe your father and I..." Marion grunted.

"No, maybe not - but I think it describes the general case. Once divorce became available as an out, guys took it - or girls did, after their guys started wandering..." Twyla offered, eyeing her mother, sidelong.

"Back to the main story!" Marion wanted this line of questioning closed off. It was too uncomfortable.

"Okay. Well, Mickey was coming around already when we left - there was the discovery that I really WAS a girl, not just supposedly - but I was still being chicken. After I talked with Dina, I decided to stop being such an idiot - but I also knew that I wasn't going to get anywhere with false advertising. So I stopped dancing with Mickey like he was my brother, or cousin, or something, to see how he would react."

"And?"

"The results were... amazing. Mickey loosened right up and let me know I had his full attention. It was great! I probably could've stopped there, but..." Twyla blushed. "I wanted to be sure."

Marion raised an eyebrow, "What did you do?"

"Well, first, I told him that we were doing Mandi's rules," Twyla related, diffidently. Then she raised her eyes to her mother's, "Then the next time Dina flashed her tits, I told Mickey that he could ogle hers or have mine!" She grinned. "I don't think Mickey even LOOKED at Dina the rest of the night!"

"So when did you... ?"

"Oh, right then and there! I unzipped the bodice and dropped it and stuck his hands on them!" At her mother's gasp, she continued, "It caught on, too! In half a minute there were a dozen topless girls on the dance floor!"

"You shouldn't have done that!" Marion was horrified.

But Twyla was adamant. "Yes, I should have! Mandi's rules, remember? No false advertising - deliver the goods! There was no better way to convince Mickey that I was serious! Besides, this was Mickey, not some jerk - we had a long conversation in the garden, afterwards - it turned out that Mickey was as worried that being a couple would ruin our friendship as I was! He's so sweet..."

"Okay, so I'll ask you again - when did you promise Mickey sex?" Marion demanded.

Twyla eyed her, eyes twinkling. "Well, never, actually - not in so many words! I didn't decide until we were on the porch - just before I waved off the limo..."

"YOU w... !"

"Yes, I did. You thought Mickey did? No, I did it. As to when Mickey realized he was gonna get it, well, you were there, on the stairs! That's when I let him know..."

"Weren't you telling me when it was that you promised Mickey he could have sex whenever he wanted it?" Marion demanded. "Wasn't that the subject of this conversation? How come I feel like I've been going in circles?"

"Mother!" Twyla erupted, irritated. "Don't be so dense! We HAD sex - therefore, if he wants, we will have sex again! It is implicit in Mandi's rules! I gave it to him - now it's his!"

Marion, deflated, shook her head. "Aren't there any limits?"

"Why should there be? He wants it, I want it - both of us have the good sense not to ask for it when it isn't practical. What other limits need to be set?" Twyla asked pedantically.