Chapter 11: The Summer of 1991 Beginning of the end.

Mission accomplished; Howard and Sara Carpenter agreed to retract their lies about Patti being promiscuous and, in the process, I fulfilled my commitment to get Smyth laid.

Actually, I had very little to do with either feat; everything just fell into place. It's funny what motivates people. Howard's objective was to get a shot at the ceiling work at the Oldham building and he was willing to have his wife 'do anything' in exchange. Sara wanted the same as Howard, but she also wanted to reverse the wrongs they had done to her friend, Patti.

Once I saw that Howard was offering his wife to me, all I had to do was to suggest that Sara taking Smyth's virginity would be a huge favor to me. Sara was agreeable and Howard didn't object until he was forced to support her while Smyth fucked his wife from behind. Even then, he was too busy refilling his glass with scotch to voice a serious protest.

The Carpenters acted on faith only. They agreed to make things right with Patti's clients with no real assurance from me that Howard's company would be awarded the ceiling work at the new Oldham building.

Sara thoroughly enjoyed herself. She guided Smyth's every move and ridiculed her husband for being inept, calling him 'Rookie'. She was aware that Patti, Wanda and Marsha were watching from the upstairs bedroom. I don't think Howard ever saw them. He hardly took notice when Sara let Smyth fuck her the second time.

The evening was a success. Smyth was overjoyed, Sara was happy and Howard was out of it. We stuffed him in the back seat of his car and I drove him home, following Patti and Sara in Holly's car. The drive took the better part of an hour and except for an occasional slurred sentence from my passenger, was uneventful.

I wondered if Howard would remember seeing his wife being fucked by Smyth. More importantly, I wondered if he would remember his promise to correct the wrongs he had committed toward Patti. There was no use talking to him; he was incoherently comatose.

It was Sara's decision to let her husband sleep it off in the car and we didn't try to persuade her to let him come inside. I locked the car doors and handed the keys to Sara, saying goodnight. "Thanks, Sammy. That was fun," she said, sounding a lot perkier than she looked.

We were both quiet on the way back to Holly's house, lost in our private thoughts. Patti didn't reveal how she felt about what had happened. Hell, I didn't know how I felt about it either. Should I expect her to thank me for humiliating Howard and persuading him to agree to admit that he had lied about her? Should I pat myself on the back for getting Smyth laid? No, I wasn't proud of what I had done.

Patti broke the silence. "We need to discuss our schedule for the rest of the week. Is your offer for Italian food still open?"

From the way she phrased the question, nonchalantly, I could tell she already had our schedule planned and all I had to do was to listen.

"Sure, do you have a restaurant in mind?"

"There's a small café near my apartment. It's very informal and looks like a fun place; we won't have to dress for dinner."

Seeing that I was enthusiastic about having dinner at the small café, Patti continued laying out the rest of the schedule. She would give Howard and Sara time to retract the lies they had spread about her before making appointments with the three clients who had expressed interest in discussing projects with her. Although she didn't mention it, I assumed she was accepting my offer to go along, posing as her assistant.

"Crystal invited us to dinner on Friday night. She and Clifford want to talk to me about doing the remodel plans on their house."

Again, I didn't complain about her planning our week. It wasn't until we reached Holly's house and entered the breezeway that either of us gave a thought to my house guest. "I forgot to turn the air conditioner back on!" I exclaimed when I felt the sauna-like air hit me. And then, we looked at each other and shouted, "WANDA!"

"She's going to be pissed at me. I should have told her how to turn the air conditioning on," I muttered as we walked through the kitchen, already feeling perspiration trickle down our backs. As we opened the back door we heard the girls splashing in the pool. I stopped to flip the A/C switch on before following Patti out to the pool.

Wanda and Marsha were having way too much fun to even listen to my apology. Nor did they respond to Patti's invitation to have dinner with us the following evening.

"Jump in, Sammy, what's stopping you?" Marsha asked and Wanda chimed in, urging us to join them in the water.

Since I was still wearing my swim trunks, I shot a quick look at Patti, shed my sneakers and jumped into the pool, disregarding the 'shower first' rule. What difference would a little sweat make to the water's PH? Sara and Smyth had been in the pool between fucks and the whereabouts of the rubber he had used was still unknown.

As soon as I hit the water both girls were on me, like flies on dog crap, demanding that I get naked, like them. I squirmed and swatted them away, accidentally grabbing a handful of tit in the process.

Marsha was even more aggressive than Wanda. The two girls worked a tag-team approach, one of them getting my attention by bouncing her tits against my chest while the other one snuck behind and tried to lower my swimsuit. I fought them off and got away three times before Marsha grabbed my hand and guided my middle finger to her slit. That did it; I was overcome by surprise long enough for Wanda to take possession of my single piece of clothing.

I wasn't the only one surprised. Marsha's eyes became enlarged when I pushed my finger into her pussy and Wanda was able to get me naked with very little effort. Marsha didn't try to get away and if Wanda hadn't taken the opportunity to stroke my cock, no telling what would have happened between Marsha and me. I got away, but not before wiggling my finger and watching her shudder with a look of delight.

"Help us, Patti. He's getting away," Wanda urged and we turned our attention to Patti, who was still fully dressed.

It took several minutes of pleading to persuade her to join us in the pool, but as it turned out, she was anxious to come in and cool off. She didn't even object when Wanda told her she had to strip, slowly.

We stood in the water at the shallow end of the pool and clapped our hands to a slow beat while Patti stepped out of her shoes, wiggled out of the short skirt, dropping it an inch at a time as we clapped.

With the girls' tits in full view and their pussies at the water line, my cock was pointing upward at a forty-five degree angle. Fortunately, their eyes were focused on Patti and the strip-tease she was performing. She was very graceful, strutting around in her top and bikini-style panties, posing and putting on a show. We clapped and pleaded for her to "take it off, take it all off".

Next, she turned her back to us, leaned forward and lowered her panties, slowly. With her panties around her ankles, she parted her legs as much as her panties would allow and put her pussy on display. Our rhythmical clapping stopped abruptly and we watched, spellbound as Patti wiggled her ass and inched the blouse over her head.

I knew Patti was self conscious of her tiny breasts and wasn't surprised when she stepped out of her panties, turned and ran toward the pool, screaming as her jump cleared all three of us. A light from the house behind us came on and a warning, "it's after midnight," was issued.

I yelled an apology, saying we would quiet down and the light went out without any further discussion.

For the next thirty minutes I suffered and enjoyed constant groping from the hands of three aggressive, very bold females. They grabbed, poked and felt my most private places, separately and together. At one point I had a finger inserted into my rectum, a hand around my cock and third hand cupping my balls.

I was outnumbered, three to one, but on the other hand, there were six breasts to fondle and three pussies to finger.

The final warning, "I'm going to call the cops if you don't quiet down," was met with stunned silence. We got out of the pool and dashed into the house without stropping to pick up our clothes or to dry off.

My naked companions dashed for the stairs and it only took a minute to make sure the house was locked before joining Patti in the bedroom. She was drying her hair, but stopped when she saw how my cock was standing erect and in need of attention.

Our bodies were wet and slippery as we collided, dropping on the bed, hungrily devouring each other and having the kind of raw, spontaneous sex that leaves you exhausted, but contented. We fell asleep and were awakened by Wanda, who wanted the keys to Holly's car so they could get Marsha's car out of the garage.

Patti and I looked at each other, questioningly. She yawned and stretched and I did the same.

"What time is it?" I asked, aware that Wanda's eyes were on my naked body as I searched for the car keys.

"You're already late for work," Wanda answered, still watching me move around the bedroom.

Patti got out of bed, found the keys where I must have dropped them on the floor the night before and delivered them to the fully dressed and bemused Wanda. "You didn't say if you want to have dinner with us tonight. Do you?" Patti asked.

Wanting to get away from Wanda's prying eyes, I dashed into the bathroom and was already in the shower when Patti joined me.

"What did she say?" I asked.

"She said they're having dinner with friends of Marsha and that she'll stay with Marsha tonight."

"Male friends?"

"She didn't say," Patti answered and we turned our attention to washing each other, thoroughly.

After stripping the bed and having a leisurely breakfast we said goodbye, promising to talk on the phone as the day progressed. On the way to work I wondered what Wanda and Marsha had planned for the day. Wanda was treating her business trip like a vacation and Marsha had designated herself as the tour guide. I hoped she wouldn't get into trouble with Rob Reardon for neglecting her duties.

It was mid-morning when I arrived at the construction site and it took the rest of the morning to catch up on the flurry of activity. Neill didn't comment on my tardiness. He did inform me that I had missed an exciting soccer game the evening before, telling me that Cassie scored a goal and I expressed regret that I hadn't been there to see it.

"I'll call and congratulate her," I said, knowing that what I had witnessed the night before; Sara taking Smyth's virginity right in front of her husband, far exceeded the excitement of watching Cassie score a goal.

Patti called to find out how my day was going, but really to discuss our plans for the evening, wanting to know what I was going to wear. When I said I hadn't thought about it she dressed me over the phone, telling me which slacks, shoes, jacket and tie would be appropriate. I didn't argue. Actually, I told her they were good suggestions.

She called again to report the good news; according to Sara, Howard had personally spoken to everyone they had lied to.

"Should I make appointments with the clients who said they have projects? Will you go with me?" she asked.

I assured her that I was looking forward to accompanying her. "I've never been an architect's assistant before," I laughed.

She called once more to tell me to bring my shaving kit and clothes for the next day. "We'll stay at my apartment tonight," she said, letting her voice sort of float to show it was a suggestion, not an order.

I assured her that I was agreeable to staying at her place and was pleased to hear her response. "We'll have a good time," she promised.

It bothered me that all of Patti's telephone calls were requests for me to do something. Sure, there were questions about my welfare sandwiched between her 'suggestions'; "How's your day going? Are you up for tonight? You're not too tired, are you?"

Since I owed Marcie a telephone call anyway, I decided to tell her about my concerns.

"What happened last night?" she demanded to know.

"Everything went as planned," I answered, not wanting to be reminded of the specifics.

"I was worried about you. Are you sure you're okay?"

"The evening was a success. Smyth is no longer a virgin and we solved Patti's problem. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

Marcie groaned. "What is it, sweetie?"

"Suzanne and Mr. Oldham are getting married and I don't have a date," I said.

"Sammy Oldham! Are you... are you... is this what I think it is?"

"Yes, they haven't set a date yet and I don't have a date."

"That's too bad," she said, sounding dejected and I realized why. She had thought I was inviting her to the wedding.

"Will you be my date?"

"I would be delighted. When is it? Oh, you don't know. Where is it? What should I bring to wear? Is it formal?"

"I don't know," I laughed and suggested, "why don't you talk to Suzanne? She loves to talk about her wedding plans."

"Perhaps I will," Marcie said and I could tell by her dreamy voice that she was already making notes as to what to say to Suzanne.

I didn't have the heart to tell Marcie what was really on my mind. She wouldn't appreciate hearing my concern that Patti was becoming dependent upon me, giving me little tasks, telling me how to dress and relying on me to help her make decisions. I already knew what Marcie would say if she were thinking clearly; "talk to Patti."

"Let me know if Suzanne sets a date," I said, pleased that Marcie was becoming involved in the wedding plans. She was the one person I knew who would be of help to Suzanne without her even knowing she was being helped.

Marcie thanked me for inviting her to the wedding and I let her go without discussing what was really on my mind.

As I drove to Patti's apartment I thought how complicated my life was becoming. Getting Howard and Sara to retract the lies they had spread about Patti was opening a new set of problems. Her attitude toward me had turned around. Suddenly she was treating me like a boyfriend, seeking my advice and telling me what to wear.

There was also the future to contemplate, returning to school, attending Trisha's wedding, looking forward to seeing Becky again and now I had invited Marcie to be my date at Suzanne's wedding.

Well, one thing at a time. First, I would talk to Patti. I was planning what I would say when she opened the door and pulled me inside. Her kisses purged my mind, erasing the few tentative thoughts I had formed. Her hair smelled faintly fresh, like a meadow full of wild flowers.

"Did you miss me?" she asked as she took the clothes bag I was carrying and hung it in a closet.

I was intrigued by the way she was dressed. The full skirt flared from her waist and my attention was drawn to the peasant-style blouse, cut low at the neck to show her bare shoulders and a hint of cleavage.

"Yes," I said without elaborating.

"I missed you, too," she said, wrapping a large scarf around her shoulders and handing me the keys to the outside door. We walked three blocks to Carlo's Italia where we were greeted by a balding waiter. He introduced himself as Franco and directed us to a table for two.

I looked around the room. The only decoration was a map of Italy on the back wall and less than half the tables were occupied, mainly by couples dining quietly. Everyone else seemed to know each other; we were the strangers. I played with the silverware, asking myself, this is a fun place? I could tell that Patti found the drab atmosphere depressing.