Chapter 58: Honeymoon Dinner

Friday, April 15, 2005 (Continued)

Carol had not returned by the time Julia and I had finished our snack. Julia said Carol would return when she wanted to.

Carol eventually rejoined us about forty five minutes after she'd skipped out. I looked at my watch and said, "Good grief, how could you spend so long jilling yourself in the bathroom?"

Carol indignantly defended herself, "What sort of sexual pervert do you think I am! I only spent five minutes in the bathroom. Honestly! Just because you've got a dirty mind it doesn't mean everyone else has!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply you were a pervert or anything like that. What did you spend all the rest of the time doing then?"

"If you must know, I was in Julia's bedroom frigging myself with her vibrator, imagining I was playing Hide and Seek with your winkle!"

The two girls laughed, and when I mentally climbed out of the trap, I joined in too.

Carol said, "Haha. That was fun. You are very easy to set up for embarrassment, you know?"

"Yes, I know. Believe me, I KNOW! It happens far too often. So what were you really doing then?"

The girls immediately started laughing again.

#2: <It's not bad enough that they embarrass us, now we're doing it to ourself.>

After the most recent round of "Let's All Laugh At Mark", Julia said, "You really are sweet, Mark..."

#3: <Have you noticed that sentences that start that way never finish well?>

" ... Naïve, but sweet. You've got no idea how sexy you are, do you?"

#3: <That was a surprisingly good finish!>

"I know exactly how sexy I am: totally not!"

Carol laughed, but Julia stopped Carol, saying, "The trouble is that he actually believes it. You won't take our word for it, but we'll find a way to convince you."

Carol said, "You are sexy, brother."

"This from the girl who's a self-confessed sexual pervert, as you did spend forty five minutes frigging yourself like I accused you of. I only got the room wrong."

"I was 'winkling' myself; it's a different thing entirely. Same end result though: a REALLY good time! Haha. Okay, I admit it, I'm a sexual pervert when it comes to thinking about my brother. I have no intention of ever stopping either!"

"I'm glad to hear it." Then I thought of an interesting detail and had to check it, "Julia, do you really have a vibrator?"

"Oh yes. I LOVE my vibrator. I don't know how I could survive the nights you aren't here without it. The next week or two especially, so I'd better get Mom to buy more batteries next time she does the shopping."

Carol said, "I REALLY need to get one too. It's going to be terribly frustrating living in the same house as Mark without making love to him."

Julia said, "We can get you one tomorrow. Now that I think of it, we should get you two because I saw how much you liked having your ass filled. That way you can have both going at the same time."

"Wow, that's a great idea! Thank you, Julia. I never thought of doing that, you're so clever."

Or perverted. On further thought: both.

I must admit that the image of Carol doing herself with two vibrators was hot, even though I didn't exactly know what a vibrator looked like. I was eager to find out though, so I said, "I'd like to see that! Please buy two and let me watch you using them one night soon."

Carol said, "Oh no. I couldn't do that."

#1: <Huh? That's not how the Lord thing is supposed to work.>

"Why not, sweetie?"

"It'd make me so horny I'd be unable to stop myself jumping on top of you, and we're not allowed to do that at home."

Damn! And I realized it'd have the same effect on me too (jumping on top of HER, in my case). It would be torture to see her using them at home. Double Damn!

Carol said, "I'll show you next time we're allowed to have sex here. Sorry."

Yeah, me too. My dejected mood was improved somewhat when Julia suggested, "Why don't we buy another vibrator to give to Donna? She's going to need to burn off her sexual frustration soon."

Carol laughed, and said, "Oh, that delicious. So sexual but no one else is involved."

Julia laughed, and said, "Not quite no one else because Mark should give it to her. Nicely wrapped up like a real present, with a lovely card praising her for her developing maturity. I think that'd work very well indeed."

So did the rest of us. Poor Donna was an innocent babe square in Julia's sights. Donna was doomed!

A few minutes of idle chitchat later Julia asked, "What size pants and shirts do you wear, Mark? Carol and I will get you a few outfits tomorrow. Nothing much, just one or two casual changes for now."

"I don't know. I hardly ever go shopping and always forget my size anyway. I just get the assistant to measure me."

Julia rolled her eyes at Carol, and said, "Honestly! It's amazing they can dress themselves. You can see why I'm so glad our Lord has a servant now."

^-- Turning back to me, Julia commanded, "Loosen your belt so Carol can check your tag. Get his shirt size too."

A minute later Carol had read both tags. I did up my belt and relaxed back in the sofa again. Both girls looked at me like I was stupid, which meant that I was.

I asked, "What?"

"You have to stand up, of course."

"Of course I do. Would you mind telling my why though?" I said this while standing. I wasn't going to argue with Julia.

"Now that we know the sizes of the clothes you're wearing, you have to stand so we can see exactly how badly they fit so we can estimate the correct sizes. That'll be good enough for getting you a couple of casual outfits. We'll take you out shopping some day soon, when you're not running. Very soon, because you're in dire need of some new clothes."

"Hey, that's a bit over the top isn't it? A bit insulting even. This is my best outfit that I chose to get married in. I only bought it two or three months ago. I have been growing a bit recently, but even so!"

"Look at the shirt: Its shoulders are too narrow, as you can see by the seams. The sleeves are too short, the chest is too tight, and the waist is too loose for that style. Turn around. Oh dear, the back is even worse. Carol, what sizes do you think he is?"

The girls quickly agreed on my shirt and pants sizes.

Julia said, "Don't pout, darling. We love you. It doesn't matter that we don't love your clothes. We can fix them easily. It'll be fun." Somehow I doubted the last part.

I was thinking about going upstairs and changing into the other set of clothes I had there, just jeans and an old shirt that I'd worn to school yesterday. I hesitated because I feared having those criticized too. Thinking about those clothes made me think about the room they were in, and I had a panic attack. I quickly said, "No pink clothes for me, okay? No pink pants and no pink shirts."

"Of course not. That'd be silly for casual clothes. Salmon might work though."

#1: <Why did she specify "for casual clothes"? That's worrying. Is she thinking of buying pink non-casual clothes? If so, I refuse to wear them! And what on Earth do salmon have to do with my clothes?>

#2: <The good news is that she DID agree with no pink for casual clothes, which is all she's buying tomorrow. When we go shopping with her later we can makes sure there'll be no pink for any clothes then too. I haven't got a clue about the fish though.>

"Ah, what have fish got to do with buying new clothes for me?"

Julia patiently explained, "Not salmon the fish, salmon the color."

#1: <Well I'm glad that's been cleared up then. Any other business? Oh yeah, what the hell is "salmon the color". Have you guys ever heard of a color called salmon?>

#2: <Nope.>

#3: <Never. It's not the sort of name you'd forget, is it?>

"Ah, darling. I've never heard of a color called salmon. What is it?"

"It's a shade of pink, lighter than carnation."

#3: <What on Earth is "carnation"?>

#1: <Don't go there. If you start chasing these things we'll be here for hours and still be none the wiser.>

"Didn't we agree on no pink? You even said pink would be silly..."

#1: <" ... for casual clothes", remember it's only silly for casual clothes.>

#2: <Yes. Thank you. I might leave that qualifier off.>

" ... so I think we shouldn't have any salmon either. Nor any trout."

Carol laughed, "'Trout'! Haha. You're very funny, Mark."

Julia said, "Are you sure? You'd look good in salmon. What do you think Carol?"

Carol replied, "Yes, salmon would complement his coloring nicely."

"Please! No pink, no salmon, no carnation, nothing even vaguely pink-like."

"Sure. No problem. What about seashell?"

#2: <Argh! What the hell is ... Never mind, let's just ask.>

"What on Earth is seashell?"

"It's a color, of course. A shade of white."

#3: <How can white have a shade? That's just silly! Everyone knows white is white. That's as silly as saying "shade of black".>

#2: <Knowing females, I bet there are shades of black.>

#3: <Actually - knowing females - I bet there are NOT. If there are shades of white, it would be perfectly logical and sensible to have shades of black. Need I say more?>

#2: <Haha. Good point. Tricky things females, aren't they?>

"In what way is seashell a shade of white?"

"It's mostly white, partly pink."

"NO PINK!"

"Formally it's not a pink; it's a shade of white."

"NO PINK! No pink-pink, no white-pink, no pink-white, no green-pink, no blue-pink, no yellow-pink - ESPECIALLY no yellow-pink! No anything-pink or pink-anything. GOOD GRIEF! I just want no pink. How hard can it be to ask for 'No pink'?"

Julia burst into laughter, closely followed by Carol. Julia thought it was so funny she even rolled off the sofa and onto to the floor, clutching her stomach. Carol wasn't much better.

Julia, with tears in her eyes - because I damned well wasn't going to give her one of my hankies - barely managed to get out, "Haha. You haha are so haha easy to set up, Mark."

When Julia was more collected and had wiped her own eyes, she said, "Sorry, but I just couldn't resist. Of course I knew what you meant when you said 'no pink'. I wouldn't buy you pink casual clothes anyway. But you're just so easy to wind up. Did you really think that I'd expect you to know what seashell was when you can't even tell the difference between cerise and vermilion?"

#2: <What are cerise and vermilion?>

#1: <Wasn't vermilion one of the reds of the dresses of the two girls who were in Carol's class? The ones that Julia showed her pussy to.>

#2: <Ah, yes, you're right. Cerise would be the third name for red then.>

#3: <Did you notice that she said, "wouldn't buy pink casual clothes" again. We're going to keep a VERY close eye on her when we go shopping for non-casual clothes.>

Carol grabbed my arm. Pressing my upper-arm into her breasts always cheers me up, somehow. She said, "I love you Mark," cheering me up even further. "I'm sorry I went along with it, but it was very funny."

"You went along with it? I thought she was fooling us both. When did you know she was teasing me?"

Carol explained, "When Julia said salmon might work."

"Hang on! That was RIGHT at the beginning. You knew way back then?"

"Sure. Salmon would look terrible on you."

#2: <Argh! She says it with complete assurance, as if there's no doubt at all, but we haven't got the faintest clue what salmon is.>

"Wait a minute, Carol! Didn't you later say salmon would 'complement my coloring'?"

Carol confessed, "Yeah. Sorry about that. I was just going along with Julia's joke. Don't worry, I'd never buy you a salmon shirt. A vermilion shirt, on the other hand, would look great on you."

I looked Carol hard in the eyes, suspiciously waiting to see if she cracked up or not. She held a straight face, so I was forced to conclude that I truly would look great in a vermilion shirt. Worth remembering, except for the following facts:

• Chance of me recognizing vermilion if it slapped me in the face? Zero.

• Chance of me walking into a store and asking for, "A vermilion shirt please"? Zero. I'd rather be slapped in the face with a wet fish. Preferably not salmon though, as it apparently doesn't complement my coloring.

I was in a very suspicious frame of mind now, and realized Carol had been worryingly precise about one point. "Hang on. You said you'd never buy me a salmon shirt. Does that mean you'd buy me salmon pants?"

Carol protested, "Of course not! That's ridiculous. I doubt anyone even makes salmon-colored pants. Who'd buy them?"

I was too suspicious to be mollified by such a ridiculous sounding explanation.

#2: <Did any of you guys know that colors can be okay for shirts but ridiculous for pants?>

#1: <I had no idea. I thought colors could be put wherever peopled wanted. Can you think of a reason why salmon - whatever that is - could be a shirt, but couldn't be pants?>

#3: <If it helps, "salmon is a shade of pink, lighter than carnation.">

#1: <Funnily enough, that doesn't help.>

#2: <I have no idea why it can be on a shirt but not pants. Do you think Carol is jerking our chain?>

#3: <We can't ask Julia because they'll just gang up on us again. We're outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and out of our depth. I think surrender is the only option.>

#2: <So you're saying we're "out of options"?>

#1: <{Groan}.>

I put my hands up in the air and held them there. After a few seconds Julia asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm surrendering. I'm outnumbered, outmaneuvered and out of my depth. And I'm ashamed to admit it, out of options too. You girls win. Back when I married the two of you, I never realized that it meant that I could be picked on like this. I'd like to go get a cookie now, I badly need cheering up."

Julia said, "We'll all go get you a cookie. We did tease you pretty good, didn't we?"

"No you didn't. You teased me pretty BAD! I'll survive, but it was very unfair to pick on me using made up color names."

"They weren't made up. They're real colors."

"I have no doubt whatsoever that those names were made up by females. Man-hating, militant-feminist females! I'm sure it's a conspiracy. When I am King of the World my first royal decree will be that there are seven colors. No more, no less. As clearly illustrated by the rainbow. Now where's the King's cookie?"

Five cookies later - three for me as I'd needed extra cheering up - we were sitting on the sofa again. Julia told me, "One thing you might want to think about is growing a thicker skin. When you're more famous many people will write and say bad things about you. That's what newspapers and magazines do to sell more copies. You don't want to get depressed because of that stuff. You'll need to learn how to ignore it."

"You're probably right. I can easily imagine myself getting upset. I'm not used to people saying bad things about me."

"Actually you are. Some people anyway. Do you take it personally and get all depressed when a bully says you're an asshole, or whatever they say?"

"No. Good point. They're very insulting, but that's just to get a reaction. I couldn't tell you how many times I've been called gay, for example. I know I'm not gay because I don't know what color salmon is! It's a bit more serious with newspapers and magazines though, because other people read them and believe them."

"Yes. But in terms of stopping yourself from taking it personally, just remember that magazines and newspapers are bullies."

"That's a good analogy. How do you keep coming up with these lessons for me? I'm amazed at how smart you are. You're a very good teacher for me."

Julia said, "Thank you very much. I appreciate your praise, even though I haven't been that smart. The things I've mentioned have been very easy to think of. I believe you're going to be rich, powerful, famous and successful, so whenever I see anything that talks about the problems facing rich, famous people, I ask myself how that problem could happen to you, and how to plan for it. I can sit in front of the TV for just an hour, and make a list of a dozen different problems that might apply to you. There's a huge amount of media coverage of famous people. That's almost all they talk about, with brief distractions for major disasters, so the media gives me a never-ending stream of ideas. Admittedly most of it is the same stuff repeated over and over again, but every now and again I'll come across a new worry.

^-- "The last little lesson I gave you was about handling negative publicity. Famous people and especially politicians are CONSTANTLY attacked. Their decisions are questioned, their honesty, their morals, etc. It's unstoppable so you'll have to learn to handle it.

^-- "Mostly I don't even have to have ideas about what we'll do in the future because famous people are already solving the same problems we'll need to solve. The idea of us all living in a mansion, for example, came from my seeing a star's house on TV. She had a huge house for all her staff - in our case for our families - BIG walls, great security systems, etc. That's what you'll need eventually. We can probably have a few years in a small mansion that's only half as bad as a star's house, but once you're properly famous, you'll be forced behind walls."

"That's a good approach, Julia. I was getting a little freaked out by how smart you seemed, how brilliantly you were predicting the future, etc., but I see now that it really was quite simple. And you're right about there being no lack of examples. Rich, famous people are constantly on the news or in the papers."

Julia said, "Yeah. It's actually worse than you think - at least I found it was - because you get used to tuning it out. When I sat down knowing that the man I love might have these problems, and I really paid attention and listened, it was very upsetting. Famous people have appalling troubles that they have to deal with. They get chased, set up, attacked, conned, lied about, defamed, and many other terrible things; by sexual stalkers, would-be kidnappers or murderers, paparazzi, autograph hunters, people wanting to do business deals, con men, etc. In your case maybe religious fanatics too.

^-- "I read an article just a few days ago about a rich man who has three full-time staff just to answer the mail from charities looking for donations. That's not counting the staff that open the mail and sort it into the various categories, that's JUST the staff that deal with that one category. Other categories of mail have their own staff too. Incredible! But there's no choice. If you get sent thousands of letters a week, you have to handle them somehow.

^-- "I used to think being famous would be cool, but now I'm having serious doubts. There must be benefits, I guess, but the problems seem far worse. Dad's idea of moving overseas to where people act more considerately is growing on me. I don't know where, but it's something to be aware of. Sorry, I've just realized I got carried away again. It's been depressing for me to listen to and read our media, and imagine my man being on the receiving end. But that level of problem is several years away yet, so I should shut up."

"You take this 'getting me ready for the future' stuff seriously, don't you?"

"My number one vow is to serve you. That's not as onerous as it sounds because I REALLY like serving you. I hope I'm overdoing my worrying about some of it, because it can't be as bad as it seems."

I said, "Remember you're only sixteen and you're allowed to have fun. You said that about me, but it applies to you too."

Julia smiled and said, "It's probably not as bad for me as I make it seem. It IS the role I volunteered for after all. I know I never said the words 'I volunteer' to you, but I chose to start planning things. I LIKE planning and managing, and I'm enjoying doing it for you. It's just that the responsibility weighs on me sometimes, but I like responsibility too so that's my own fault as well. It's nice that you let me enjoy myself teasing you from time to time though. That cheers me up. I loved the no-pink tease, that had me rolling on the floor."

I had to point out a small error. I adopted a deliberately over-dramatic stern look. "Actually, Julia, I don't believe that I LET you tease me. I never noticed you asking for permission, let alone me granting it."

Julia smiled, "Your time is FAR too valuable to waste with my unimportant little requests. So I just assume that, as your number one wife, you give me permission to do whatever I want. It works out better that way."

"Better for you."

"As it turns out, yes. But, being the wonderful guy you are, my being happy makes you happy. So I'm really teasing you to make you happy. Isn't that generous of me?"

I partially agreed. "It's certainly something of you. I'm not sure generous is the right word."

Julia kindly offered, "If you like, I could tease you again and at the end I could tell you whether I feel generous or not. That'd be a good test, wouldn't it?"

"Given that we're married and what's yours is mine and vice versa, then I should tease you and see how I feel at the end. And given that teasing and tickling are basically quite similar, and tickling is quicker, it'd be more efficient if I started tickling you immediately. It even has the advantage of being an easily repeated scientific experiment; repeatability being an experimental virtue I'm generously willing to demonstrate to you several times."

Julia was trying to find a more-or-less logical argument against that when the first of the family arrived.

The Williamses all arrived in fairly short order. Lots of inquiries about our day, best wishes, and a few teases. I'd just been done over by experts, so these amateur jabs just washed over me.

Vanessa said my parents would be bringing takeout food shortly. She asked the girls to make a fruit plate for dessert while she showered. I did some table setting. Just the usual domestic stuff.

I was wearing my good clothes and feeling self-conscious about - apparently - how bad they looked on me. Damn, I used to like this outfit.

Mom and Donna arrived a quarter of an hour later, with Dad arriving shortly after them. I looked at Donna in a new light (or perhaps with a new gleam, of the predatory variety). More greetings were exchanged, and more friendly inquiries were directed at the three of us.

Donna rushed up to Carol, hugged her, and asked, "How was it?"

Carol enthused, "Wonderful! They're both fantastic lovers. I had the best time."

I quickly looked at Mom, expecting to see her make "shushing" sounds at Carol, but Mom seemed okay with it. Not exactly happy, but accepting. I guess it was pointless trying to keep that sort of comment away from Donna.

Donna inquired further, "Why? What did they do?"

I heard Mom say, "Shush Donna! Young ladies do not ask that sort of question."

"Now that I've already asked it, is it okay for Carol to answer?"

Mom's glare quickly scuttled that foolish hope of Donna's.

Not long after that, Donna came to me, and I opened my arms for a hug that she quickly accepted.

She snuggled in and said to me, "That was an amazing wedding. I've never heard of anything like that before."

I replied, "Me neither. Julia has a very good imagination, and a sense of drama too I think."

That wasn't what Donna wanted to talk about, "Will Carol and Julia really do anything you tell them to?"

"Yes. Except I can't get them to stop teasing me. But yes to everything else."

"So what sorts of things have you told them to do?"

Mom was standing with her back to Donna and me, talking to Carol, and - I was sure - carefully catching every word I was saying. So I said, "Very important things. Like 'Can I have a cookie please?' or 'Is it time for lunch yet?' That sort of thing."

"No, silly, that's not what I mean."

"I know that's not what you mean, sweetie, but our mother has big ears and we don't want to shock her."

Donna looked around in time to catch Mom giving me a smile over her shoulder.

Mom turned back to Carol, and Donna quietly asked, "Can you tell me later?"

I whispered back, "Maybe I'll even tell you to do the same things for me that I made them do?"

Donna's eyes widened, and she smiled, "Really?"

"Yes. How about right now: 'Can I have a cookie please?'"

"Argh! You meanie." She punched me on the arm.

Donna has a good punch, so "Ouch!" (although I probably deserved it). Which reminded me that she'd missed her Karate class in order to come to my wedding. "I just realized that you missed your Karate class to come to our wedding last night. I'm sorry you missed it, but I'm glad you came. It was good to have you there."

"Really?"

"Truly. I like you very much. Not having you there would've made it seem incomplete." Mom seemed to have lost interest in our conversation, as she was walking away toward Vanessa. I guess I'd proved myself to be discreet by now, and the talk of Karate classes seemed innocuous. It was time to take advantage of the opportunity. I continued with, "Besides, you looked very pretty in your new dress. I like looking at you when you are so pretty."

Donna blushed (I double-checked that Mom wasn't looking), and she said, "Thank you. I wanted to look pretty. Mom and I had a big fight about it though."

"Oh, why? I thought it was a very pretty dress."

"Mom wanted me to get something all frilly. I wanted something much, um, sexier..."

#1: <What can a flat-chested, muscular, 12-year old girl wear that could possibly be considered sexy?>

#2: <Probably best not to think about it.>

" ... We argued and I had to agree on something in the middle, and that's what I was wearing."

I said, "Well I thought you looked very pretty in that dress. It was a good choice and I'm glad you didn't wear anything sexier."

A disappointed Donna said, "Why not?"

"Because then I would've been too distracted from my other girls, which wouldn't have been fair at their wedding, would it?"

Apparently whether it would have been fair or not wasn't Donna's primary interest, "You really would've been distracted?"

"I never saw the dress, but I think I would've been." I doubted I would've been at the time, but knowing our current plans for Donna I would be distracted now if she was wearing it, so it wasn't a complete fib.

Donna smiled for a few seconds, enjoying that thought. Then she said, "But Carol and Julia were wearing VERY sexy clothes. I could see their, um, their bumps and everything."

I had to smile, internally anyway; I tried to keep it from my face. I wasn't sure whether "bumps" were "breasts" or "nipples", but associating the word "bump" with Carol's breasts seemed very wrong. It'd be like calling Mt Everest a hill; far too disrespectful toward Mt Everest. And I had no idea what Donna meant by seeing their bumps "and everything." I think that was Donna just getting carried away.

I nearly told Donna something like, "It'd be interesting to see you in one of their dresses," but figured that was going far too fast. I wanted to go slow with Donna, to give me time to see what effect other girls had on my desire for her. So instead I said, "I like looking at nice bumps," whatever they are "and I'm glad yours are starting to grow. I enjoyed seeing yours in the pool the other day."

Donna immediately became very happy, "Really? You liked seeing mine?"

"Yes I did. They were very nice."

#3: <They were TINY! Just little 'buds'. How can you say they were "very nice"?>

#2: <Does the thought of putting our mouth over one of them and sucking it turn you on?>

#3: <Okay. Good point. Ha! "Good point" - get it?>

#2: <My point exactly.>

#1: <{Groan}. I'm starting to fear that #4's corruption has seeped into you guys.>

#2: <When we finally get to suck on Donna's points you can be on duty then, as you obviously don't want to participate.>

#1: <I wouldn't want to upset the rotation. We should just see how the sequence works out.>

#2: <Ha!>

Donna moved closer to me, and whispered, "I could show you again, if you like?"

I thought for a second about how to respond to that. I was definitely going to respond - it was such a superb opening - but I wanted to set our future on the right path. The only way I could imagine that adding several more girls to our relationship could be successful, even if just temporarily, was for them to do what Julia - and presumably me too - told them to do. I had trouble imagining Donna allowing me to boss her around, but it was worth trying that direction first.