Chapter 35

"Life is like a box of fermented, roasted, and ground seeds of the tropical tree, Theobroma cacao."
-F. Gump

Despite Traci's worries, I passed my driving test with flying colors. The Toyota dealership was not far from the Department of Motor Vehicles, so I was able to drive the Scion xB off the lot within an hour of receiving my driver's license. I had originally planned on going to the beach afterwards and strolling hand-in-hand with Marge, but the weather was not cooperating: the rain from the previous day had passed, but there was the occasional sprinkle along with a cold wind. Thus, we instead ate a light, early lunch at a restaurant that was a part of a hotel. It was perched along the shore on a cliff, so we were able to enjoy some pleasant scenery while we ate. Since it was Valentine's Day, there were many couples dining, and even though Marge was a little self-conscious about what our apparent date meant, we had a pleasant meal.

When we arrived home, I asked Marge if she would take a shower and then return to the living room. She hesitated for a few seconds before agreeing. Most likely, she thought I had some nefarious deed in mind and was not comfortable doing something behind her youngest daughter's back. The conversation that Traci and I had the previous evening had not been conveyed to Marge and Lori yet, though it did not matter. Sexual intercourse was not on the afternoon's menu.

When Marge came down the stairs, she was stark naked, which suited my needs perfectly. I had already covered the coffee table with bath towels and after I had instructed her to lie down on her front, I covered her lower back and sexy buttocks with another towel. Using the remote control, I turned on the CD player and started playing an Enya CD that I had found in the Caspars' collection. Squirting some scented oil into my hands and warming it first, I began to give Marge a sensual massage.

Marge let out a few appreciative groans when I worked out some of the knots that I found in her shoulders and back. Despite my intentions of keeping it sensual and not too erotic, it did cause a reaction in me, specifically my loins. Marge seemed to pick up on that as well -- most likely from the difficulty I had when I needed to stand and move around her -- because she told me, "I think you are wearing too many clothes."

Having started to work up a sweat from my exertions, I nodded and began to undress. Fortunately, I had been wearing khakis, so I had worn underwear as well. I kept the pair of briefs on, and while I did create a pup tent, it was less painful than when I was wearing pants. Marge let out a throaty chuckle when she saw the condition I was in, and gave me one of her daughter's pouts when it became apparent that they were remaining on. Her amusement slowly faded as I renewed my massage.

The CD ended right around the time I was finishing up with the back of Marge's body, and the CD changer loaded up the second Enya CD. Marge was so relaxed that I think she was on the verge of sleep. I had to repeat myself when I asked her to turn onto her back, and when she did; I began to massage her face. She had her eyes closed and I could not overcome the temptation the sight instilled in me, so I leaned forward and gave her a tender kiss on the lips. The kiss was brief, yet passionate, and I resumed the massage.

Since there were not any knots to work out in the front of Marge's body, I finished the massage before the second CD ended -- though I did find myself preoccupied making sure that her breasts were well taken care off. I helped Marge off of the table, and taking her hand, I led her back to the master bathroom. Since I had acquired a lot of oil myself during the process of the massage, I joined her in the shower, and we took turns washing each other. I did have to playfully slap her hand away from trying to revive my slowly fading erection a few times, since I wanted to keep the afternoon chaste, despite Traci's permission from the previous evening.

When we finished washing each other, I turned the knob that controlled the shower and began to draw a bath. Stepping out of the tub, I retrieved the bottle of bubble bath and added a couple of capfuls to the running water. As Marge sat down in the tub, I left the bathroom, only to return a short while later with a chilled bottle of wine and a couple of glasses. After pouring her and myself a glass, I handed her hers and pulled up a stool so I could sit next to her. We clinked our glasses together and took a sip of the sweet nectar.

"Thanks for a memorable Valentine's Day," Marge said.

"Actually," I confessed with a soft smile, "I'd forgotten it was going to be Valentine's Day when I planned all this. I just knew it was going to be an opportunity for me to show you how much I care about you. I just wish there were more occasions for me to show you how truly special you are."

Marge turned her head away for a few seconds, and when she turned back, she seemed to be blinking back some tears. "I love you, too," she told me in a slightly choked up voice.

I contemplated Marge's reply. Was it love that I felt for Marge? Traci was the only person that I had ever fallen in love with -- the only person I'd ever loved, in any sense, so far -- I measured that emotion by how I felt for her. She and I cared deeply for one another and accepted our flaws and weaknesses, as well as our assets and strengths. It was hard for me to accept a future without Traci in it, but the same could be said for Marge and Lori. I could easily see sacrificing myself if it meant saving any of the three, but if forced to choose only one, Traci seemed the one that I would pick. Was it fair to use the word 'love' to describe the feelings I had for Marge and Lori, when I seemed to love Traci more? Perhaps because it was February fourteenth, I decided that I could risk it.

After drinking a large swallow of wine, I took a deep breath and said, "Marge, I love you." I paused to collect myself before continuing, but Marge switched hands on her wine glass and reached out and took a hold of my arm and stopped me.

Giving me a knowing smile, she said, "Chad, I think I understand what you are going through. Even though I knew it was wrong, I fell deeply in love with Melody. When I met John and began to develop feelings for him, I felt as if I was betraying Mel. It was risky, but I told him about me and my sister and how I didn't think I could ever fully love him. I thought he was going to end it right then and there -- or worse, go to the police and tell them about it -- but he surprised me and accepted it. Not only that, but he and Mel also developed a love for one another. When Mel left, part of me felt guilty, because it felt as if a part of my heart was taken away; but John felt the same way. You know that I told the kids that she fell in love with Ronald and that's the reason why she left, but that was not really the case. I think she knew in her heart of hearts that if the truth ever got out about the three of us, it could tear my family apart."

Marge began to chuckle, and after a few seconds, explained. "I just got to thinking that at least someone already knew about us, back then. John's parents, bless their souls, had a strong suspicion about the reason why Mel was living with us. One Thanksgiving -- oh, it must have been the first one after Traci had been born -- they flew out to have it with us. At the dinner table, John's dad asked, 'When are you going to give me a grandson?' The thing is, he was looking directly at Melody at the time. I swear to God, John practically choked on the stuffing he was eating, but without missing a beat, Mel replied, 'Marge takes care of the birthing.' They would drop other hints, like calling her their 'other daughter-in-law' and such, but I don't think they ever knew just how close Mel and I were... or if they did, they didn't let on."

"Anyway, to make a long story short, I think being in love with more than one person is possible, and just because you love one person more does not mean that you love another less. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good, 'cause I don't want to soak in here too long and get all pruny. Bad enough that I have winkles as it is."

Any wrinkles she had were figments of her imagination, but I knew it was pointless to argue that with her. Instead, I took her hand off of my arm and kissed the back of it.

After Marge's bath, she donned my bathrobe and I put on my yukata, and we went out into the living room. The hookah and case had been left on the coffee table from the previous day; having only set them aside when I prepared up for Marge's massage. After clearing a space, I replaced the hookah and began to prepare for a smoke. Since the strawberry shisha was already open, I opted for that flavor.

"Two and a half?" I asked, pinching out about half the amount I had on my birthday.

Grinning, Marge shook her head and replied, "Two," as she joined me on the couch.

There was no way I was going to argue that. As I began to loosely pack the shisha into the bowl, Marge asked, "How do you have half an orgasm? Do you take one and divide it in half?"

"Well, yes, I could do that, but there are occasions when I think Traci has had an orgasm, but I am not quite sure, so I count it as a half. It's not like I can just stop and ask, 'Did you come, did you come?' If I left it up to Traci to tell me, she would claim to be frigid."

"So, you can only earn cigarettes with Traci?" Marge asked before letting out a small squeal and pushing me away. My fingers were sticky from handling the shisha, and I had started to reach for her to wipe them on her face. Again, she mimicked her daughter when she stuck her tongue out at me as I got up to retrieve some tissue paper from a dispenser that was on a nearby table.

"Yes, that is how it started, but we had fun 'renegotiating' the terms when I started having sex with you and Lori/Slave, so I now get to count orgasms with you two... I mean three," I explained.

When I sat down next to her, she grabbed my left hand, guided it under her robe to her right breast, and groaned five times in rapid succession. "There, now you can smoke a whole bowl," she proclaimed before bursting into a fit of giggles.

I caught myself caressing her nipple with my thumb and reluctantly pulled away. "Actually, those can't count. One of the conditions is that she be present for it to count."

"Well, she always has to be present anyway, right?" Marge asked. Instead of answering, I remained silent and began finishing up the preparations for the hookah. I had covered the top with foil and was poking holes in it when she asked again. "Right?"

"Yes, that was the case, up until yesterday," I answered.

Marge wanted to know more details, so I explained Traci's birthday gift as I finished setting up. I had to retrieve my Zippo from my pants to light one of the quick-lighting charcoals, and after I did, I had to set the coal in the tray that was under the bowl as it ignited. Because of the sparks that it was giving off, I placed my right hand over it to prevent any from landing on the towels or carpet. After fifteen seconds, it had stopped shooting off sparks, so using the tongs, I picked it up. I blew on the round disc a few times and watched it glow red; a few sparks shot off, but not as many as when it ignited. Placing the charcoal on top of the foil, I began to take drags off the hose until I was drawing some good smoke.

Finishing my tale as I began smoking, Marge seemed a tad surprised and asked, "You mean we could have been getting our freak on, and we haven't?" It was then that I realized that I would much prefer to be surprised while drinking something instead of mid-drag.

After a fit of coughs and my clearing some tears from my eyes, I replied, "'Freak on'?!?"

Marge had been concerned when I had choked on the smoke, but a grin erupted across her face when she saw that I was okay. "You know, the nasty, the wild thing, some humpin' and grindin'."

In mock disbelief, I replied, "Jeeze, is that all I am to you Caspar women? A convenient fuck? A flesh dildo? What is wrong with me spending some quality time with a woman that I love without it degrading to sex?"

Giving me a soft smile, Marge leaned into me and gave me a tender kiss on the lips. When she broke the kiss, she snuggled up beside me and said, "No, there's nothing wrong with that. Just, wouldn't it be more fun if I took your hard cock into my mouth and blew you while you smoked?"

Marge's words were accented by her right hand, which had found its way to my thigh. She had begun to lazily trace her fingers along my leg and was working her way closer to my groin. Since my right arm had wrapped around her shoulders when she snuggled up to me, and since my left held the hose, I was trapped. I ended up using my teeth to hold the mouthpiece of the pipe so I could lightly swat away her hand.

Marge surprised me again when she reached up and took the tube away from me. Not even hesitating to wipe off my saliva, she brought it to her lips and took a drag. It was after the second one that she handed it back to me and announced, "Mmm, that was nice."

My astonishment must have shown, because Marge chuckled when she looked up at me. "I used to smoke in high school and college," Marge explained. "Did you know that there was an actual section on my high school campus where students could go and smoke? That's probably what killed off the dinosaurs, all of our second-hand smoke. Anyway, Mel and John didn't smoke, and they would always make me go outside, so I kinda know what you are going through."

"How'd you quit?" I asked.

"Easy, I got pregnant with Lori. As soon as I found that I was pregnant, I quit. I did start back up afterwards, but then Traci came along, so I had to quit again."

Guilt started to wash over me with the realization that I had caused Marge to start smoking again. Seemingly sensing my feelings, Marge chuckled and said, "I guess I should say I quit buying them. Oh, I did go for a period of seven years when I didn't have any, but the stress of John getting ill started me back up. Then, when I started at the hospital, I found myself joining the other nurses going outside for smoke breaks. I would just bum from them, though I did get lucky last November when I found half a pack of smokes in the couch."

I was overcome with a sense of relief, though I was not sure if it was from the knowledge that I had not started Marge smoking again or that I finally knew what had happen to that pack. When I had lost it, I was sure it had fallen out at the Caspar's house, but when I confronted Traci, she told me she had not seen them. Part of me had doubted her, and it took me a few days to realize that, if she had found them, she would have thrown them out, then told me what she had done. Now the guilt that I had felt towards Marge began to shift to her youngest daughter, and I told myself that I would make it up to Traci the first chance I got.

Marge and I alternated taking a couple of drags off the hookah for a few times before she finally declined. Her relaxed body began to pull her off into slumberland, and it was not long before she fell asleep. The tiredness from giving the massage combined with the hot shower began to take its toll on my body, too, and I found myself joining her five minutes later.

"Aww, ain't they cute?"

"Shh, you'll wake them."

Actually, I was already awake; the sound of them entering the house had roused me. I was pretty sure Marge was still out, but my feigning sleep made it difficult to be sure.

"I should go get a camera and take a picture of the two of them."

"Don't. You know that Chad hates having his picture taken."

It was not so much that I hated having my picture taken, as it was me subconsciously avoiding being captured in the frame. Like with some of the other aspects of life which had impinged upon my training, I had been slow to adjust. I made a mental note to try to be more camera-friendly in the future.

"What are you doing?"

"Ah, come on. I haven't seen him when he hasn't been hard."