Lets Make A Deal Pt 03

Author's note:

This is part of a long story. No part of it is intended to stand alone. I suggest starting with

Part 1

In revising the whole story, I've corrected errors, but also filled in a lot. This has inevitably made it all even longer. My apologies to anyone who read it in the original form and now finds it changed for the worse.

If you're looking mostly for explicit sex, this probably is not the story for you, so why don't you just go on to something else? There is explicit sex in some parts, but even there it's not the focus.

Also, some parts contain religious discussions which will offend some people and bore others. If you're one of those people, again, why not go on to something else?

8.

Too much talk, and not enough action. Do you know anybody gettin' satisfaction?

Martha abruptly stood up and walked around the desk to Scott. She reached down and grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet, and put her hands on his shoulders. "Scott, I'm pretty sure I do understand exactly what you mean. Honestly, I do really feel grateful, and deal or no deal I would want to tell you how much it means to me that you're trying to protect us by limiting yourself, and that you're trying to come up with something we can all live with. And you're trying to find a way to give me my job back. Enough talk for at least a minute or two! See if this isn't kissing you like I mean it, because I do!"

She put her arms around his neck and pulled his head down to hers and started in. He kissed her back for all he was worth. After a moment he put his hands on her hips. She parted his lips with her tongue, and came in to play tag with his. Then she pushed her body up against his. After a couple of minutes, though it seemed longer, they broke, and she stepped back. He felt like his diaphragm was trying to do flip-flops, and he was having trouble catching his breath.

"I'm sorry, Scott. Not about kissing you, but . . . I may be inexperienced with men but I'm not totally ignorant about them, and something was really obvious." She glanced down toward his crotch. "I didn't realize that you were already so, um, aroused. Really, I wasn't trying to tease you! We probably need to quit talking and do something about that, and you need to say just what. And who, I guess. Except you already said I'd go first, on everything, didn't you?"

Scott was fiddling with his computer, turning off the office camera. He hadn't meant to record anything but talk.

"Martha, that was really wonderful, and honestly, it means a lot to have you say that you meant it. But, well, you're right, the timing wasn't too good. I'll explain part of that later, but for now the part you were referring to." Scott sat down again, and Martha went back to her chair. "It's like this. For a lot of reasons, originally, I was going to turn Lynda down, but I couldn't help thinking about her offer and wishing, enough that I've been kind of turned on for days now. And then after you came in, I decided to say yes, if you both would agree together. And it has been more than fifteen years since I had, um, any kind of sexual contact with anyone at all. I've been completely aroused all afternoon, and then we've been talking about it for going on an hour, so yes, I'm about ready to explode. You have no way of knowing, unless you've heard or read it, but it actually gets painful, and I'm well past that point.

"Do we have a deal, then, Lynda? I think what Martha just said and did means she's OK with the terms I've tried to lay out. Is there anything else you need to say, or ask, or add to all this?

"In fact, one more question I should have asked you both, is this: Are you sure you'll be OK watching me, well, be intimate in various ways with the woman you love? And with being watched by her, in turn? I know that that's asking a lot, and it's way beyond offering to go to bed with me, behind each other's backs. I don't want you to decide you can't stand it after it's too late."

Martha said, right off, "I won't know for sure until it happens, but I think so. That was just about the first thing I thought of when you brought this up. I've thought about it, but . . . I can't really know until the time comes."

Lynda seemed even less sure, but she finally said, "Yes. I think, well, I think it may even help me, if I see you with Martha first."

Scott said, "OK, then. I spent way more time than I should have this afternoon thinking about how to go ahead. I don't know about for you, but for me intercourse seems kind of final, so I was thinking we'd start with oral sex, and I mean you giving it to me, tonight, and then anal sex tomorrow night. That way, um, I mean, I guess you have a chance to decide that it's too awful before we take that final step. Presumably, we're starting with the worst things, from your point of view. If hearing that gives you second thoughts, now is the time to say so."

He waited a short moment. "OK, then, Martha, you need to come back around here. In terms of positioning, there are a few options, but I think here's how we'll do it." He stood up and unfastened his pants and pulled pants and underwear down, then sat down again. "You've never done this before, either of you, right? I think that you're going to have to kneel down on the floor, though maybe you can sit in a chair and bend over to reach me. If you like that idea better, go ahead. I can stand up if you find that will work better. In fact, maybe having me standing and you sitting might be the most comfortable for you. And if we were in a bed there'd be many more possibilities. Anyway, if a position is too uncomfortable, say so and we'll try something else.

"The number one rule is that you keep your teeth from direct contact. I can't really tell you how that works, I'm afraid, but it's important. I'll try to make allowances for this being a first for you, but, I'm sorry, but if it hurts enough I'll turn you over my knees and paddle you until your butt's red. I really do mean that you'll have to be careful!

"OK, the first thing to do is to lick all the way up and down the shaft so things are well lubricated. Curl your hand around down here, and you'll be stroking up and down, down there. Take the end into your mouth, using your lips and tongue to shield it from your teeth. Don't try at this point to swallow the whole thing, just go maybe down to here. I should tell you, the head is the most sensitive part, and this side of it especially, and right here as well.

"From there on, you're sucking on it, going in and out some, stroking with your hand. I'll be moving, too, and I hope you can pick up the rhythm from that. The movements are, well, not exactly involuntary, but not really voluntary, either.

"There will be some stuff coming out all the time. In fact, you can see that it already has been for quite a while. But at some point, probably very soon this time around, it's going to start spurting a lot more, and pretty fast. That's called ejaculation, and it's what orgasm involves for a man. You'll need to swallow, and keep swallowing. With me in there too, there probably will pretty quickly be more than you can hold in your mouth. We are talking about a few tablespoons, not cups, but even so. If you don't swallow fast enough, one of two, no, three things will happen. Either you'll choke, or a bunch will come out of your mouth and run down and make a mess, or you'll have to pull me out and it'll spurt all over and make a bigger mess. Try to avoid the messes, but if you have to pull back don't hesitate, I guess.

"Think you've got all that?"

Martha nodded. She knelt on the floor between his knees and went to work. Scott had been so close that it probably took no more than a minute or two in all before he ejaculated. She kept at it until he said, "That's enough. Thank you! That was perfect." He stood up and pulled up his pants and fastened them, then rummaged in one of his desk drawers and found two glasses. He filled one from a pitcher of water he had on the corner of his desk, handed it to Martha, and said, "Here. Rinse your mouth out.

"One thing I didn't want to take time to explain is that, whether you realize it or not, after a guy ejaculates, it takes a while before he's ready to go again. I thought we'd order pizza. We can talk a little more while we eat, before Lynda has to do her part. So what do you like on your pizza?"

They came up with a few items agreeable to everyone. Scott picked up the phone and dialed. "Hey, Tony, it's Scott. You're actually working for a change? . . . We're having a late meeting, and we need a break. How about a large pizza with pepperoni, onions, and mushrooms, and another with onions, bacon, and green pepper? And a Mountain Dew—" Scott repressed a shudder "—and a couple of Cokes, OK, yes, Pepsi will do if you don't have the good stuff  . . . OK, fine. How much? . . . I'll send someone over for it around then. Thanks." He hung up.

He got up and walked around to Martha. She stood up, too. He put his arms around her waist and said, "Thank you. Really. I don't know how to say how much it means to me that you were willing to do that. It's been so long, and I don't mean since oral sex, I mean since sex of any kind, even being kissed. That part was wonderful too." He kissed her, not as intensely as earlier, but not a quick peck on the lips, either. "I hope that wasn't too unpleasant."

"Not really. It's no taste treat, but not that bad. I'm glad you warned me about how much there'd be. That was really the hard part."

"It's likely to be harder, after this. Um, I don't mean the swallowing, I mean the whole process. I was so turned on that you didn't really have to do much, and it happened right away. It won't always be so quick and easy."

9.

If I am not worth the wooing, I am surely not worth the winning.

He gave her a quick hug, then went around and sat down again. He said, "Question. This isn't just curiosity, but it's not something you have to tell me if you don't want to. I told you a little about my own past experience, and I'll say more later. But I think I should know some about yours. First off, Martha. Have you ever had any kind of sexual contact with a man before? I've been assuming not, but I really don't know."

"Not really. When I was in high school, I got asked out sometimes. I was never anyone all the guys went after, you understand, but it wasn't so rare that a date felt like a once in a lifetime chance, or anything like that. Well, we kissed some, and made out a little too. But after a while, I realized that for these guys, anyway, making out was what they really wanted to do, and watching a movie or going to a game was just kind of a preliminary for that, and they never suggested getting together outside of a dating situation. It's not that I didn't enjoy kissing and stuff, myself, but I wanted a friend, someone I could hang out with just for fun. If a guy had liked me that way and then wanted more, I think almost anything might have happened. But as it was, if say he tried to unbutton my blouse or something, I said no and kept saying it, and then I didn't hear from him any more.

"After a while, I think word got around that I wouldn't put out, and I didn't get asked out much. That kind of confirmed, to me, that what these guys were after was really just going as far as they could get away with.

"In college, there were a couple, or a few I guess, guys who were different. I still didn't get asked out all that much, and a bunch of those it was plain just wanted to head back to their rooms, or mine, and make out and have sex. Again, after getting turned down firmly, those guys never asked me out again. But there were a few who were different. We'd go out, and we'd talk afterward, even if it was in someone's room. They usually kissed me good night, occasionally with some oomph to it, and maybe some touching too, and if they'd kept asking me out things might have gone a long way. But somehow it always petered out after a few weeks, and I never knew why. Maybe they just wanted signs of enthusiasm from me. A few of them, if they turned up now, I'd want to catch up with, if they were still interested in friendship. I liked them a lot, as friends, and they were interesting people to talk to, and I'm still kind of sorry we just drifted apart.

"But to answer your question: Besides some extended kissing and occasionally having my breasts groped through my clothes, there was nothing."

Scott thought about this. The one thing in it all really clear to him was that the men had taken all the initiative and, really, had all the interest. If Martha had really had any desire for anything physical with any of them, she was keeping it to herself. But also, none of them had seriously romanced her, especially after being told to quit trying for immediate sex. He wondered what might have happened if one had backed off on that, but continued to show interest in other ways. No way to tell now, anyway.

"So how did you find yourself involved with women? If you're not comfortable discussing it, say so, but I'd like to understand you better. I'm not at all after intimate physical details."

"Well, I wasn't much older than Lynda is. I felt like my life was in a rut. I had some friends, not really a lot, almost all women, and we'd sometimes do things together. But mostly I got up, went to work, came home, read and listened to the radio or watched TV, and went to bed, fixing meals and cleaning up of course. For whatever reason, it had been a long time since a guy showed any interest in me, though I'd sometimes find myself in interesting conversations, and wish the guy would ask for a date. But with women friends, I'd go to movies or concerts, or occasionally go shopping—not because we wanted to buy anything, just something to do together—things like that.

"After a while, I got to know one friend a lot better. She had an unpredictable schedule, so things weren't planned out in advance, but two or three evenings a week we'd go out for coffee, or maybe have lunch together, and just talk. Girl talk, I guess, but it was really the kind of thing I'd never found in a guy, not in an ongoing way. And I guess I was lonely, and maybe it showed. So at one point as we were just chatting, she asked me about my love life. I was pretty sure she didn't have one, or much of one, either. I guess I said pretty much what I've been saying to you. And she looked at me a while, and then she asked whether I'd ever tried kissing a woman.

"Well, I guess I was kind of shocked or something. Maybe startled is more like it. Anyway, I didn't know quite what to say, so I just said no, but I must have showed how I felt. She looked at me for a minute, and then she said she didn't want to pressure me, but that it was obvious that guys just didn't turn me on that much, enough for me to feel like doing anything about it. She said that I should know by now that she wasn't my friend because she wanted something, and that if I wasn't interested she wouldn't be hurt at all, but that if I were interested she was available. And interested. Eventually we went back to her place and kissed for a while. I was turned on some, but I didn't feel comfortable with it, and she didn't push me for anything more. A few days later, I asked her if was OK with her to try again, and, well, she made love to me. I'd never felt like that before, and I guess really never since, either.

"We continued as friends, with occasional sex, for probably a couple of years. (Oh. She asked me the very next time to make love to her, too, and I did, so that was another first.) Anyway, her company transferred her, and that was the end of that. Except that she's still a dear friend, my best friend except Lynda, and we keep in touch. After that, I had a few more girlfriends, each relationship also lasting around a year or two now that I think about it. The last one, well, wasn't so good, and kind of soured me on sex for a long time. She was really into control, and cared a lot more about me satisfying her than about making me happy. In fact, earlier when you asked asked about anal sex, well, she liked to do it on me, and it was whether I wanted to or not, which I really didn't. I know that it would be different with a man, with you I mean, but I do generally know what it feels like. I probably won't enjoy it, but it should be fine."

Scott thought that she'd given him more to think about than he'd expected. He considered briefly, then said, "Thanks. I think I understand you a lot better, and it may help. Lynda, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I'm not after being titillated by your experiences or anything like that, but I'd like to know."

10.

Oh, don't deceive me, How could you use a poor maiden so?

Lynda said slowly, "I don't mind you knowing, I think, but I really don't want it to be common knowledge. When I was fifteen, I was raped by my boyfriend." She described briefly what had happened.

"But that wasn't the worst. I told my mother about it, and she told my dad, and their attitude was that my having sex with Ron, even though he forced me, proved that I was just a slut who thought about nothing but sex, and that I'd just sleep with any boy any time. My mother had gotten me on the pill for irregularity, I mean my doctor had said I should but she hadn't questioned it, but now suddenly I had gotten on the pill so I could sleep around! And probably I had been all along! But that's the one time me being on the pill actually may have kept me from being pregnant, and if it did I'm really glad!

"Anyway, when I was sixteen, I just left. I hope you can see why! I didn't really have any place to go, but a few friends let me stay with them for a while each. I mean, their parents let me stay, of course. I can't tell you how much it meant, and means now, that their parents were willing to take me in, they cared about me more than my own folks! I got the kind of part-time job a sixteen year old can get, and saved what I could, but I also tried to help their families out a little, and I had had to pay for stuff too, stuff your parents normally take care of." She was crying a little by this time.

"So one woman knew Martha, and knew she had a spare room, and asked her if she could let me stay there. She was thinking I could maybe rent the room, but when Martha understood the situation she didn't charge me anything, for rent or groceries or anything at all, for a year and more, until I had a full-time job. She was like a mother to me, more than my own mom ever was, or it feels like it anyway. She made me keep going to school, and bought me supplies sometimes. When I'd been staying with my friends, I'd just gone off to school with them, but now I probably wouldn't have, but she got me registered and arranged for the bus to stop and got me moving in the mornings and got me breakfast, and everything! She saw to it that I learned to drive, arranged for everything so I could get my license. Then, when I turned eighteen, I guess she talked to you, and she helped me apply for a job with you. But you know that part of it.

"Well, a little before that, she found me crying. You need to know that Ron, my former boyfriend, had spread around that I'd slept with him, and guys kept asking me for dates, but I was pretty sure they all just thought I'd just go to bed with anyone. I was probably wrong about a few of them, but how could I tell? But anyway, a lot of the time I felt so lonely and worthless, I just didn't want to go on living. But Martha hugged me and listened to me, and she told me I could stay as long as I needed to. I asked her, didn't having me in the house all the time kind of kill her own love life? I'd seen that she basically never went out with anyone, and for sure no boyfriend was spending nights at her house or anything. She laughed, and told me that it had been years since she'd had any kind of love life to kill, and that I was already feeling guilty about enough things that weren't my fault. Then she got serious, and told me that when she'd had one, it was with women, and that enough people knew it that some people were probably jumping to conclusions about me. She said she hoped it wouldn't add to my problems, and she hoped knowing about it wouldn't make me feel uncomfortable staying with her, but she thought I needed to know. But how could I think anything bad about her because of that? When she was letting me stay for free, and really treating me like a daughter?