. 06

Author's note:

This is, in all its seven parts and their many chapters, one very,

very

long story. If long stories bother you, I suggest you read something else.

No part of this story is written so as to stand on its own. I strongly suggest that you start with

the beginning of Part 1

and read sequentially—giving up at any point you choose, of course.

All sexual activity portrayed anywhere in this story involves only people at least eighteen years old.

This entire story is posted only on literotica.com. Any other public posting without my permission in writing is a violation of my copyright.

We woke up Wednesday morning to the alarm, and after bathroom breaks made love, not hurrying. I once again caressed Sam systematically, all over, telling her how much I loved her body, all of it. I wasn't stroking her in ways one would think of as arousing, but she was completely turned on by the end of it.

"You know, you can go on about the curve of my hips, the softness of my thighs, even how dainty you find my toes, and I'm not complaining, I'm glad you love all those things, Phil. And I know you're not lying, not ever exactly and mostly not at all. But it doesn't work quite the same with me, and I think that's more or less true for most women. There are a few things about your body that take me that way. Your face is perfect, yes, the shape of your nose and jaw, everything, even when you're kind of scratchy like now. And your muscles, the leanness of your body around them, all that, too. And your cock delights me, you won't be surprised to know, in all its many states. OK, I guess that's more things than I was thinking.

"But I'd never normally go through all those things and tell you how much I like them. I'm thinking about some of them a lot, trying to make sure I can remember just how good you are to me physically, and why. I'm glad I delight you, too. I hope when you're sleeping with Ellen, and you're telling her how beautiful her hair is, you'll remember mine as well."

She pulled me on top of her, guiding me in. She said, "I've done this in the shower so many times, and I don't know why it never occurred to try it in bed," and wrapped her legs around behind me, pulling me tighter to her, driving me into her harder. As I thrust, she suddenly came, and she must not have been expecting it, because the first couple of moans were really loud. She apparently realized, and she controlled herself after that. I came about then, too.

We got up, eventually, and went off to shave. We decided not to go running that morning, and just showered, with no sex but a lot of pleasure in washing each other. As we were starting to collect things for breakfast, Aunt Sally came in. She smiled at Sam and hugged her, and said, "I see why everybody in your wing heard you that one time, Sam. I'm glad you were so happy, but I'm also glad you quieted yourself."

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you and Uncle John. It kind of took me by surprise, it happened so fast." She moved over to me and gave me a squeeze from the side. "Phil had been telling me, in detail, all the things he loves about me."

"Not all the things! Just physical ones. You know. 'I have a left shoulder-blade that is a miracle of loveliness. People come miles to see it. My right elbow has a fascination that few can resist.'" They both laughed. "I never got to all your strengths and virtues of character and personality. And those are the really important ones!

"That's not just true of you, either. I'll give you just one example, Sam. Well, I guess you get it too, Aunt Sally, and please excuse me if it's a little graphic. Sam, take Barbara, Barbara W., as a case in point. We were in that group exercise, where we were supposed to pair up with someone besides our own partners. When it was my turn, remember, she's the one I chose. I didn't really know her—I even had her last name wrong. I picked her because she's really pretty, but, well, there was one girl I did know, a little, who's also pretty but who always set my teeth on edge."

"I think I know which you mean. She's nice enough once you get past the surface, but she's kind of crude and abrasive on that surface."

"I guess I never got that far. Anyway, both of you know what followed with Barbara. Pretty as she was, we might have made love that once and never interacted again. But after we had talked, besides that I wanted to try to make up a little for her awful week, she's nice and has a strong character. Her week really had been awful, and she had done the best to do her part uncomplainingly and well. OK, she was to the point of despair with me, but even there she just said what she wanted us to do, which is what she was supposed to be doing. Until I asked her questions, and then she really was explaining, not complaining. I don't think I could have done as well in her place.

"My point is that, pretty as she is, we would have had sex that once and gone off without a backward glance if it hadn't been for everything else. As it is, I have one of my nicest friends to enjoy.

"And I ran on and on again. Sorry. Sam, you would be admirable and attractive, to me anyway, even without your physical beauty, because of who and what you are. Which is all I meant to say."

Aunt Sally laughed. "When I was your age, well, actually more often a generation earlier, it was kind of a cliché, a joke, that if you said a girl had a nice personality—the most common phrase was 'a great personality,' I think—you meant she wasn't pretty. You were trying to find something nice to say, and that was all there was. Of course, even then, men with character really wanted a woman with good character and personality, however much they might want beauty too."

I said, "That's it, exactly."

Sam said, "And Phil's character is such that he just collects that kind. Lots of them are beautiful or cute or pretty, a good bunch have really nice figures, like Ellen—and Phil thinks I do—but some are a little plain. I could list a bunch by name, but I'd better not."

Breakfast was ready, and Aunt Sally went to call Uncle John. We all sat down. Aunt Sally prayed, and we all dug in.

"You didn't go running today, did you?" said Uncle John after a while.

"We were both pretty tired, and we wanted the time together," said Sam.

"That much was obvious," Uncle John said dryly.

Aunt Sally laughed. "John, she quieted down right away, and you know it didn't really disturb us. He's just teasing. He certainly wasn't grumpy at the time," she added.

"So what are you planning for today?"

"I thought I would do a little shopping. Some clothes, at least look for what's there. Probably some groceries. Kitchen stuff, although a lot of what I want was in that resale shop. I'll have to wait until I'm in for any really perishable food, but it would be nice to have something I can eat without having to go shopping Friday.

"But that also brings up a little dilemma. This is something you're not supposed to discuss like this, but I don't have any better ideas. You two have been welcoming to me way beyond what one would expect to do for a guest like me, your—your niece's friend, but in the circumstances it's more like your daughter's friend. Her very ambiguous friend. If I don't find some kind of thank-you gift to say how grateful I am, I'm going to feel really guilty, but I'm completely at a loss as to what it could be. I know, you're supposed to say nothing of the sort is needed, but it really is. If you think of something, please tell me!

"My thoughts go to something like a book, but you have plenty, and anything I'd be sure you'd welcome you've probably have met already. The kind of, oh, little cutesy plaque or whatever you find in Christian bookstores, now that they no longer have any real depth in their book selection, things like that pile up and become just more clutter. If I see something I think would be specially appropriate, I'll give it to you, to remind you of how much I've loved being here, but that might be any time, not connected with this visit.

"I guess I'm warning you that you may eventually get a book or recording or knickknack or something, and to say that if you don't get one soon it's only because I don't want to get anything you wouldn't appreciate, not because I'm not appreciative of all you've done for me."

They both started to speak at once. They hesitated, and Aunt Sally gestured for him to speak. So Uncle John said, "Well, take as a given what you already brought up. We don't need or expect anything like that, though we'd value a reminder of you. But beyond that, you brought our niece to us as a completely changed person, the kind we're delighted to have as a niece or would have wanted as a daughter. You've taken care of her, in ways beyond anything you've told us about, we know that. And you've made her gloriously happy during this time. That's a far better gift than the kind of thing you were thinking of. I know none of that beyond the last one is exclusively your doing, but we're grateful to you for your own role in it, which you've both made clear is a major one. We're in your debt."

Aunt Sally said, "That's about what I was going to say, and John said it better."

Sam said, "I'll go on this shopping trip with him, if you don't have something you need me for."

We were back in time for lunch. I had gotten a couple of pairs of pants and a couple of shirts. I thought I had enough socks and underwear. I'd gotten cereal, bread, crackers, peanut butter, jam, soup, things like that. I'd also gotten a little cheese and margarine, which I asked to put in the fridge until Friday, figuring they would keep for a few hours then. In the end, when the time came, Aunt Sally found me an insulated box and packed them in ice for me for transport. I got a spatula or two, and a couple of cooking spoons and serving spoons. I thought I had enough to keep me until I got back to that resale shop.

After lunch, Sam and I lay down for a nap. We kissed a few times before going to sleep, but no more. I was starting to recognize the feeling of getting enough sleep, for a change. Too bad it wouldn't continue long.

We got up before dinner, long enough to not feel so sleepy. I called Ellen, and we talked to her. Mostly I talked, but it was on speaker so Sam could join in. There was nothing demanding our attention, but we talked about what Ellen had been finding out about the campus, and some new acquaintances she'd made, some of whom might be promoted to 'friend' reasonably soon. There was to be a psych department picnic on Monday, to which she hoped to take me. I warned her that the history department might also have one, to which I'd probably want to take her. We figured we could make both, one way or another.

We went down and helped Aunt Sally finish up dinner. She was being a queen among hostesses, and baking a blueberry pie in my honor. Only one, but fresh blueberries were kind of expensive even in season, after all. And I had managed not to be too greedy with that coffeecake.

Dinner was a treat not primarily for the food—wonderful as that was—but for the conversation. Quotations ranged from several G&S plays to Shakespeare to Shaw, not just a play or two but some bits from the introductions to a play or two. I described a one-act play of Shaw's—"How He Lied to Her Husband"—which I had read and enjoyed, quoting a few bits. I hadn't made any attempt to memorize the play, but had read it about three times through high school, so I couldn't quote more. And through other authors.

We had a scrabble rematch, and Aunt Sally won, this time. Sam and I went to bed early. I was glad of the extra sleep, but I really was worried about Sam. We had agreed to skip running again, and Friday there wouldn't be time for much of anything. In fact we would be getting up a little earlier.

As we were in our nightclothes—and yes, we wore them in that house, even if they came off as soon as we were in bed—Aunt Sally stopped in to say she would be doing an extra laundry on Thursday, for our benefit. We were grateful. Arriving with clean things would be better than needing to do laundry almost right away. Detergent! Something else I had forgotten to get! I would manage that, one way or another, before I needed it, though. I had remembered hand soap and toothpaste and shampoo, though. Oops, dish detergent! In the morning I asked Aunt Sally, and she found small containers and packed me enough laundry and dish detergent to get started with.

We got in bed and turned out the light. Sam said, "Can we please just make it a quickie tonight? I promise, we'll manage something longer at least once tomorrow." In the end, though, it wasn't really a quickie. She was so close that I held back until she came.

Thursday morning it was raining, which made the locals very happy. I was just as glad we had decided not to run anyway. We had one longer, very affectionate lovemaking before we got up for good. We considered stripping the bed, in view of Aunt Sally's plans, but decided to wait until she was available to ask. This was just as well, because it developed she wanted us to wait until Friday rather than have them just one-day dirty.

I found a book in the library room, de Camp and Pratt's

The Compleat Enchanter

. I read Sam bits of the first two stories—focusing on the second since she was somewhat familiar with

The Faerie Queene

—while she fixed breakfast. We had decided on waffles, and she made batter for all four of us, and then started the waffles and got out toppings. While we were eating, sounds which had to be Aunt Sally having an orgasm emerged from upstairs. I interrupted Sam's cooking, as well as my reading, to hug her and give her a good kiss. We both were smiling at what we had heard, not at what I was reading to her, for quite a few minutes.

After I read the section involving the Blatant Beast, from "The Mathematics of Magic," Sam asked me about "The Ballad of Eskimo Nell." I told her to find it on line for herself. I said, "It's not the pornographic aspects that make me reluctant—they do, a little, too, though—it's the atrocious stupidity of the thing. I admit that I looked it up after I had read de Camp and Pratt's story a few times, years ago, and memorized it in a moment of idle insanity, but I really regret having wasted the time and brain cells."

Aunt Sally came in during this, and she blushed as we smiled at her. She had heard the last part of our discussion and she asked me to quote the poem, as well. I said to Sam, "See what you've started? Now your aunt wants me to corrupt her, too. Your own bad example isn't enough?" Sam laughed. Actually, they both did. Aunt Sally blushed some more.

And at this point Uncle John came in and asked me what I was talking about. Sam and I explained, and he laughed. "I looked it up, too, years ago. Phil, you may as well just recite it. It's dismal trash, and I'll accept your plea of youth and insanity as explanation of why you bothered to learn it. But by today's standards it's more ludicrous than truly obscene. With so much plain filth out there, it looks better in spite of its total lack of merit."

I said to Sam, "OK, I'll do it on two conditions. One is that you let me say one thing more about the story. At the very end, Belphebe and Shea wind up back in his universe, somewhat by accident, and she agrees that she is going to marry him, and asks for one final request. Which, after he agrees, proves to be that he explain the poem to her.

"The other is that you remember whose idea it was that I recite this! And it wasn't mine!"

I ran through the poem, like Shea going faster and faster as I went along. When I was done, Aunt Sally said faintly, "I see why you were reluctant. What an awful piece of verse! I only knew about it from the de Camp and Pratt story."

Sam put a couple of waffles on the table for them, and they began to eat. I asked her, "Don't I get one? After that ordeal?"

"They haven't had any yet! But I promise the next one will be for you."

I continued reading. Sam took that over when she gave me a waffle, after she had poured on more batter, and then I resumed when I had finished the waffle.

Aunt Sally looked at Uncle John. "Sam has already corrupted me, it seems, just as Phil said," she told us. "At least you were already awake and down here." We smiled at her. "Honestly, I just forgot about trying to be quiet."

"I know how hard that can be, when it's really good. And I know we're both glad it was that good for you this morning. We would have been even if it had waked us up."

"I'm assuming you'll be spending a lot of today packing," Uncle John said. "Sam in particular."

We agreed. I said that I could, if worse came to worst, kind of stuff things in at the last minute, but Sam couldn't. I mentioned that I was still coming up with things I was going to need to get myself, but I hadn't yet come up with anything that couldn't wait a day or more if necessary. Sam had already sent off boxes of stuff, mostly clothes, at some expense but lots cheaper than the airline baggage fees.

We were all going to the airport, but in two separate cars. I hadn't asked Sam whom she was riding with, but I was assuming it would be me. And her flight was early, so we had to get there earlier. Everything needed to be ready before bed.

Sam already had a list of what she thought she could take, whereas I was just taking everything. I worked at loading my car, despite the rain, as she worked to stuff everything she wanted to take into two carry-on-sized bags. Finally, by mid-afternoon, everything was ready. Her part had taken longer than mine.

We took a nap before dinner again, this one brief. When we woke, we spent some time cuddling. Before long, we weren't going to have more chances. All too soon, we got up and went to help with dinner.

I think Aunt Sally must have consulted with Sam, because the food was all my very favorites, some of it things we hadn't yet had, ending with a deep-dish blueberry cobbler. When we were done, I hugged her and said, "If I were going to be here all the time I'd get fat, being fed like that. I'm sure Sam ratted on me about the food, but thank you for everything. This just caps it off."

She hugged back hard for a moment, and gave me a kiss on the cheek before we stepped back. "Phil, even if you'd been just a guest, you've been wonderfully helpful. We're so glad you've been here."

We cleaned up, and Aunt Sally started the dishwasher. We moved out to sit in the living room because of the noise, and just talked for a little, but we all went off very early to get ready for bed.

We were going to have to be up very early, but Sam and I were caught up on sleep—it felt like the first time in years, instead of in months—and we'd gotten a nap. If you can't figure out why we weren't actually asleep early, I wonder about your intelligence. But we weren't really very late, either.

Friday morning, my bladder woke me a few minutes before the alarm, which was set earlier than we'd had it for two weeks. I tried hard not to wake Sam as I got up, but she followed me within a minute, just barging in and watching me as I peed. When she got back to the room, she told me, "You're not getting away without one last time. As quick as you like, any way you like, but right now." As I've said a few times, Sam was very willing to listen to reason and admit I was right—when I was, and when the circumstances allowed. Other times she could be amazingly stubborn, and there was no point in arguing with her. I closed the suitcase on my pajamas, and got back in bed.