Chapter 38: Aftermath

I woke up on top of my bed the next morning, with the sunlight making achingly bright patterns on my eyeballs. My head was pounding, and my stomach was churning, and I felt like I was about to pee my pants. I was still dressed. I stumbled downstairs and made it to the bathroom, where I got my pants down in time to sit down and piss out a river. There are actually two toilets parked next to each other in the main bath, which was a good thing, since my stomach kept churning and I was able to simply bend over from where I was sitting and puke into the other toilet until I had nothing left but dry heaves.

I didn’t think I had ever felt this crappy on my first go-around! This was even worse than the bout of dysentery I once had. To prove it, my guts cut loose, and I had the runs. I sat there until that stopped and I prayed to die. God must have really had a wild sense of humor that day since he let me live. I eventually was pissed, puked, and shit dry and empty. I got up slowly, my head throbbing, and looked in the mirror. I looked even worse than I felt. I stumbled over to the shower and turned the water on, and then stuck my head underneath it. I was still dressed, and my shirt ended up soaked, but I didn’t care. Now, semi-clean, I wandered back to the third floor.

I wasn’t sure how I had gotten there. I must have left the bottle downstairs last night. I felt too crappy to want another drink, so I dug out my bottle of Tylenol and dry gulped a handful. Oh, how I missed Advil! That wouldn’t be legal for another ten years! I stripped off my wet shirt and thought about going back to bed, but I wasn’t sleepy enough at the moment. Besides, my room and my bed stunk of stale sweat and booze. Despite the chill, I opened a window to air out the joint. At first it was bracing and refreshing, but then it just was cold. I grabbed some clean clothes and my toilet kit and headed down to the bathroom again.

It was about half an hour later, after a very long and hot shower, and another round of shitting, puking, and pissing, that I was alive and dressed and back upstairs. I did some more Tylenol; it might kill my liver, but after last night it was probably dying anyway. I closed the window to the room and grabbed my dirty laundry and headed downstairs. There, in the living room, as I turned the corner to head to the basement, I found Marilyn. I stopped dead in my tracks. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

She was sitting on the couch playing solitaire and watching Marty, Swayzack, and Ghormley play three handed poker. The three guys looked up and grumbled out various greetings, and Marilyn rolled her eyes. “I’ve been here since last night. How do you think you got up to your room?”

I gave her a very perplexed look at that. I looked towards the formal room, which was the last location I remembered clearly, and then back, to find Marty smirking at me. “You know, I have no idea. I was wondering about that. What happened?”

Marilyn flung the deck of cards at me, which didn’t hit me since they fluttered all over the room. “You asshole!” she yelled, which earned her a lot of laughs from the others. She got to her feet and came over to me and wrapped her arms around me. “Sometimes you make me so mad I want to scream!” She grabbed my laundry and said, “Come on, let’s get the laundry going. Then we can clean up your pigsty.”

I followed along mutely. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I wanted to say it alone with her. We went down to the basement and on towards the back where the washing machines were. Once we got there, I asked her, “So what happened after I left? I didn’t expect you here.”

“I left about an hour and a half after you did, maybe two hours. Just long enough for you to get drunk! You don’t remember me and Marty carrying you upstairs last night?”

I gave her a wry look. “Not really. I thought I heard you two talking, but I thought I was just hearing things.”

“The next time you get drunk like that, you’ll hear me kicking you in the balls! Asshole!”

The washing machine was making an uncommonly loud sound as it started to cycle, so I took her hand and led her back towards the front of the basement. There we sat down on an old couch. “I’m sorry about that. I had no idea you would come here. I would never do that with you around.”

That mollified her slightly, but only slightly, and I let her rag on me for a few minutes more. When I finally got a word in edgewise, I asked, “So why are you here? What happened after I left?”

She gave me one last “Asshole!” before settling down. She looked at me and shrugged. “It got crazy for a while. Most of the kids and Aunt Lynette took off, but Mom, Dad, Mark, and I went at it for over an hour. I don’t think anybody has ever stood up to my father like that before, and he didn’t know whether to respect you for it or banish you for life. He did try to ground me, and I told him I’d move out first. Mark did get grounded, and Dad even smacked him on the head, and I’ve never seen him do that before.”

Oh, shit, I had never seen him get physically angry with any of the kids either. This was really serious. “Oh, crap!” I muttered.

“Really!”

I looked at her. “So, what happens now? Are we still together, or have you dumped me, or what?”

“I’m here, aren’t I? Christ, you’re an asshole!” She gave me a few more minutes of grief. I sat there and ate it. I guess I deserved it. Better to have her yelling at me then ignoring me. She finished by yelling, “If I was going to leave you, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

I was saved by the bell, the washing machine bell, so I quickly went and threw my wet clothes in the dryer and started another load. When I came back, she was pretty much over her stewing, so I sat back down next to her and tentatively lifted my arm up. She must have been over her mad since she moved in next to me and snuggled against my side. “Just don’t do that again.”

“What? Get into it with Mark and your father, or leave?”

“Leave! If you had waited, I would have come back with you. You can kill Mark for all I care.”

“That never even crossed my mind. Listen, Marilyn, I’ve already fucked up my relationship with my own family. I know your family means a lot more to you than mine ever did to me. I won’t get mixed up with that. You should leave me if it’s me or them. I’m not worth it.”

“I hate it when you speak like that. You’re worth it and more.”

We snuggled together quietly until the bell rang again. We had to wait until the dryer was finished before putting the second load in the dryer. We took the first load back to my room, at which point Marilyn started ripping me again about the squalor that Joe and I were living in. “It smells in here! You need to change the bed immediately!” We had an old rickety ironing board behind the door, and that was set up and Marilyn started ironing the clean clothes. I was assigned to take a load of bedsheets down to the basement. I returned to receive orders to find some cleaning rags and a bucket of soapy water. I was about to wash the room down!

“You’re really getting into this ordering me around shit, aren’t you,” I commented.

Marilyn glared at me and waved the iron at me. “You earned it! Get to work!”

I snickered and turned away. “Yes, ma’am!” I looked back for a second. “I bet you like being on top, too!” That got me a screech of outrage and a face full of laundry.

I wasn’t all that hungry, and I kept downing aspirin and Tylenol the rest of the afternoon, while I cleaned, and Marilyn supervised. She had me dusting the whole room, washing down everything, even dusting our textbooks. Meanwhile it was up and down the stairs to do loads of laundry. At one point, Swayzack was passing through and I warned him away - Hurricane Marilyn was coming through!

By late afternoon I forced her to stop, saying we had already cleaned the room twice, and put away everything and went downstairs. “You hungry? You didn’t have any lunch,” I asked.

“Neither did you.”

“I don’t think that would have been very pretty. I think I could handle something now. Want an omelet?”

“What’s that?” asked Marilyn.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, since I don’t think I ever saw the Lefleurs cook a breakfast. “Fancy scrambled eggs. Want some?”

“Okay.” I led the way to the kitchen and pulled eggs, milk, and American cheese out of the giant wall fridge. I also spotted some leftover ham from the Sunday meal I had cooked a week ago. I yanked that out as well, along with the butter. These I placed on the counter, and then I started grabbing spices off the pantry shelf - red pepper, garlic powder, some dried onion, oregano and basil. Marilyn was watching curiously as I brought out a small frying pan and a mixing bowl. I put the frying pan on the stove with a low flame, and melted some butter in it, while in the mixing bowl I broke three eggs and added some milk. I also prepped a slice of cheese and cut up into small pieces some of the ham.

Marty wandered in as I was pouring the eggs into the frying pan. “What’s for dinner?” he asked.

“I told you they’d starve without me,” I commented to Marilyn. To Marty I said, “Three egg omelets. Want one? Marilyn’s first, but after that I’m taking orders.”

“Yeah, sure!” I already had a reputation for making omelets almost as good as Ricky’s, which was only appropriate, since I learned to make them from Ricky on the first trip through. “Can I let the others know?”

“Go take some orders.” I looked over at Marilyn and said, “If you want some toast, you should probably put some bread in the toaster.”

Marilyn looked around for the bread, and Marty pointed her towards it before heading over to Grogans’. A couple of minutes later he was back with Swayzack and Ghormley. I had already flipped Marilyn’s over, encasing the melted cheese and ham, and was busy mixing some more egg. Marty and Bill wanted ham and cheese omelets, but Mike only wanted cheese, and no peppers. I ran an assembly line for about fifteen minutes before I was able to start on my own.

Marilyn stayed and watched while she ate. “How was it? Like it?” I asked.

“It’s very good! I still can’t believe you can cook.”

“Want any more?”

“No.”

I poured my own egg into the pan. “It’s like I told you. I lived on my own for two years before I ever came here. I had to learn how to cook.”

“Yeah, you told me. You also told me you used to cook dinner for your girlfriends in order to seduce them. Don’t remind me.”

“Jealous? I suppose I should be flattered. Besides, that was long before I met you, and it was only one girl anyway,” I said with a laugh.

“Hmmm ... Still sounds fishy to me.”

I grinned. “How’s that seduction thing working, anyway?”

Marilyn smiled back. “You’re wining and dining me with scrambled eggs?”

“Dining you, at least. I think I’m leaving off the wining for a few days.”

“We’ll see.”

With the five of us eating together, it was simpler to run the dishwasher for a few loads. The house had an industrial dishwasher, and I showed Marilyn how it worked. By then I was starting to feel sort of human again, and after dinner we went upstairs. I put some Moody Blues on the stereo, Days of Future Passed, and lay down and stretched out on my bed. I turned towards her as she turned towards me, and we came together slowly and softly. We spent some time taking each other’s clothes off, and then we made very gentle love. After all that had happened, it felt really good to be with her, alone in that big house, without any cares or worries.

Afterwards, we made love a second and then a third time, and it was still just the evening. Sated, at least for the moment, I pulled my pants on, and Marilyn pulled my shirt on. “That looks better on you than on me,” I commented.

“That’s because it’s so short,” she said with a giggle.

“If you don’t like it, you can always take it off. I won’t mind. Really, I won’t!”

“You’re such a jerk!” she said, smiling.

“I never noticed earlier. What did you bring with you? Where’s your stuff?”

“I packed a quick bag and threw it in the back of my car. It’s out back. Can you get it?”

I nodded and headed out and downstairs. I was barefoot and bare-chested, and damn near froze as I grabbed her bag and brought it back up to the room. Marilyn was still wearing just my sport shirt and curled up on a beanbag chair in the corner. She’s not tall, and not what you would call leggy, but they were all on view that night and looked very tempting. “Here you go! I hope you have something in there to keep us warm, because it’s absolutely freezing out there.”

“There’s nothing in here that will keep you warm.”

I laughed. “That’s your job.”

She took her bag and opened it, and then rooted around in it for her bathroom kit. “I need to borrow your robe.”

“Why?”

“I can’t go out like this!”

“Why not? There’s nobody else in the entire house!”

“Carl!”

“Hell, wear a pair of high heels and go naked. I’ll go along to protect you.”

“CARL!”

I relented and took my robe from the closet, and she pulled it on like I was about to take it back. I just laughed at her. I grabbed my own stuff and followed her down to the bathroom, and then made a production out of locking and bolting the door. We were the only ones in the house. Marilyn stuck her tongue out at me. We showered together, which is always fun, but didn’t get carried away otherwise, and then brushed our teeth and went about our other business. Then it was back upstairs.

Normally I sleep in my briefs and a t-shirt, although I usually skip the undershirt when I’m with Marilyn. Hell, with Marilyn I usually skip the briefs, too. I wouldn’t want anything to get in the way in case she started feeling frisky in the middle of the night. Tonight, with the temperature where it was, I grabbed some underwear and set it down by the bed. I turned towards Marilyn, who was kneeling on the floor going through her bag and spotted something blue and lacy. I bent over and pulled it out before she could stop me. Marilyn grabbed for it but missed. I held it up to the light and discovered it was a light blue and lacy chemise. “That looks interesting,” I commented.

Marilyn blushed and took it away from me. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to not go through other people’s things?”

“Yeah, but she never taught me about that sort of thing. Did your mother take you shopping?”

“Oh my God! No!” laughed Marilyn. “Tammy and I went out shopping.”

“In Utica? I figured that sort of thing was illegal in Utica.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“Did you help her pick something out for her?” I quizzed.

“You are such a pig! I’m not telling you that!”

I had to laugh. “So, is that for tonight?”

She tossed it back in the bag. “How about tomorrow night instead?”

I nodded and opened up my bed. I stripped off my pants and tossed them onto a chair and climbed inside the sheets, and then scooted over to the side. Marilyn stripped off my robe and climbed in with me. I snuggled up next to her and whispered, “Thank you for everything. I love you.” Then we made love one more time before we fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning to find Marilyn stroking my cock. “What a wonderful way to wake up,” I told her.

“I thought you might like it.”

I rolled onto my back and Marilyn climbed up on top of me. Save a horse, ride a cowboy! Considering I hadn’t gone to the bathroom yet, and a piss hardon is notoriously difficult to cum with, Marilyn had a nice long ride. “I like waking up this way, too.” she sighed afterwards, stretched out and lazing on top of me.

“Babe, I need to get up!” I rolled her off me as gently as I could and scrambled to my feet. I left her the robe and pulled my pants on quickly. I scampered off to the bathroom.

I was still sitting on the toilet when the door opened and Marilyn came in, her arms full. She was wearing my robe and was carrying towels and our bath kits. She blushed when she saw me, and turned away, and said, “Ooops, sorry. I figured since you were already down here, we might as well get cleaned up.”

“Thank you. That way we can get dirty together all over again!”

She looked over at me and grinned. “You’re an awful person!”

“It’s my most endearing quality.” I wiped myself, and flushed and went to the shower, to turn on the water and get some hot water into the pipes.

“I wasn’t sure you had any.”

“Cold, lady, that’s cold!” Marilyn hung my robe on a hook, and we washed each other under the shower. It’s a damn good thing nobody else was in the house, since Marilyn got kind of noisy, and we had a very good time using up all the hot water. Afterwards, as we were toweling dry, I said, “Well, that’s two so far today. Interested in going for a record?”

“Think you’re up for it?” Marilyn was staring at something in the mirror, though at what I had no idea. I think all women do that.

“Only one way to find out.”

“Breakfast first, breaking records later!” We went back upstairs and dressed.

Downstairs, we had a fine dining experience based on bagels and cream cheese, with an OJ chaser. As we nibbled our bagels in the living room, I asked her, “So, have you been going to the tanning salon?” I had asked her this several times in our letters but had never gotten an answer.

“You’re serious about that? And about, you know, down there?” Marilyn turned red as she asked this. I had also told her, several times, that I was going to buy her a swimsuit when we got there that was so small, she would need to shave everywhere.

“As serious as a heart attack, which is what you’re going to give men when they see you. Absolutely!”

“Well, Tammy and I went to this place together a couple of times, but I felt really weird. I went topless, but not bottomless.”

I slid over next to her and placed my hand on her leg. Marilyn was wearing jeans and a KGS shirt I had bought her last year, with nothing on underneath. I leaned over and whispered into her ear. “If you don’t tan all over, your butt and your pussy will have white lines all over them. Do you want me to trim you up now?”

Marilyn gasped at that. “Oh my God! You wouldn’t ... no ... really ... I couldn’t...”

I laughed and stood up. I took her hand and pulled her to her feet. We stopped in the dishwashing room and dropped our plates off, and then I led her by the hand back up to my room. Once inside, I closed the door. “First things first. You need to get undressed completely.”

Marilyn looked at me nervously. I opened my toilet kit and dug out a pair of small blunt-nosed scissors I had in there (for nose hairs, but I didn’t tell Marilyn that, way too gross!) Next, I spread out a towel on my bed and had Marilyn sit on it and then lay back. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked down her body apprehensively. It wasn’t the best position in the world, but I lay down between her legs and clipped and trimmed her pussy hair as best I could with my little scissors. A mustache trimmer works great, but I didn’t have a mustache. Marilyn didn’t have a heavy bush, more like a small dense triangle, and the little curls fell to the towel.

“That’s part one,” I said, and then climbed up off the bed.

“There’s more?”

“We’ve just started. Don’t move.” I headed downstairs and found a couple of empty 2-liter Coke bottles. I rinsed them out several times with hot water, and then filled them with warm water, and carried them back upstairs. Once back in my room, I set them down and closed the door, and pulled out my razor and the shaving cream.

“What in the world are you doing?” asked Marilyn, looking at the bottles of Coke.

“It’s just warm water. Don’t worry.” I scratched my head for a moment. “Get up. I can’t do this with you laying down like that.” My bed was actually a mattress on the floor, and I needed to be able to kneel down and work on her at eye level. I folded up a towel and placed it on my swivel chair. “Sit here.”