Ellen and Doreen: Pleasure Together

This could have been a series, I suppose, but then I unexpectedly started to generate sequels. Maybe there is less pressure on the author that way. This is a sequel to

Doreen Whips Up Some Dinner,

which itself was a sequel to a story from nearly a year earlier,

Ellen and Doreen, Punished Together.

The narrator has taken up with his wife's best friend after his wife has walked out on him. This is in Brooklyn, NY in the fall of 1981.

*****

The next morning, a Saturday, it was a bit awkward to wake up with Doreen in her bed and then have breakfast with her in her apartment. A lot had changed with her in the last forty-eight hours, but I wasn't quite sure where I stood with her by that point.

Sometimes she could be quiet, even a bit shy. I wasn't the most voluble person around either. I wasn't even close to formally separated from my wife yet; all I had to go on was the nasty note she left for me the day before. For all I knew, she might have changed her mind overnight and decided to reconcile with me.

After we ate, I said, "We should go over to the apartment today and see what's going on there. Besides, I need a change of clothes."

"Aren't you a bit worried about finding Ellen there?"

I thought about it. "I guess I am, but at least I'd find out what she's thinking." Then I said, "Before we go over there, let's walk over to the Owl's Head Pier. I just want to get some fresh air."

It took us about a half-hour to get over there, but it was a nice warm day in the early fall. However, we said very little along the way, and she didn't take my hand. I glanced over at her a few times, this slender Irish girl with the reddish-brown hair she had pinned back with a hairband across the top of her head.

What was she to me? My new girlfriend now? We had a couple of bouts of oral sex the evening before, but now it almost felt like that had never happened. She was still my companion for the moment. Yet I didn't know what to do with or say to her.

When we got to the end of the pier, just to have something to say, I pointed to the St. George Ferry Terminal over a mile away on Staten Island. "Until the Verrazano Bridge opened, there used to be a ferry from here over to there."

"I guess it wasn't needed anymore."

"But if you don't have a car, how do you get there? It used to be just a short hop on the boat."

"Yeah, I see what you mean."

"Now you have to get down to Bay Ridge, take another bus across the bridge, then probably a third one to St. George or wherever." I felt a need to keep talking, so I also told her about the lack of a walkway or bike path on the bridge, but that didn't seem particularly relevant. I hoped I wasn't boring the hell out of her.

She said, "Anyway, I get it, it left a big gap in access, didn't it -- I mean the loss of the ferry?"

I had to look away from her for a moment. "Doreen, what are we doing here together?"

She leaned over the railing. "Paul, come over here and talk to me."

As I leaned next to her, she said, "Look, I don't know what exactly is going on either."

I expressed my doubts to her. "What if we go over to 59th Street and Ellen is there?"

"We won't know until it happens, will we?" Then she added, "Before we get there, call your number from a payphone. Do you think she'd answer?"

I knew Ellen's habits pretty well. "Yeah, she'd pick up the phone, I'm sure of that."

We eventually walked north on Fifth until we reached my block at 59th. I tried a very lame joke. "So where is the Plaza Hotel?"

"Oh, that is at the

other

59th and Fifth."

What we did have was the storefront of the local gang down on Fourth Avenue. They were so bold that they had a sign above the windows that announced their name, The Dirty Ones. One would think they were like Walgreen's or something similar, but that was long before Giuliani time.

My apartment was on the third floor of a yellow-brick row house about halfway down the block. I was cautious as I unlocked the front door of the place, but there was no Ellen inside. I wandered into the front bedroom of our railroad flat. Doreen followed me in, then she boldly sat down on the side of the bed where Ellen usually slept. She patted the mattress and said, "Come on, sit down and talk to me for a while."

I felt that I needed a drink, immediately. "I'm going to get a glass of wine. Would you like one too?"

She looked at her watch. "It's only eleven-thirty in the morning, but okay."

"What is that expression? It's always six P.M. somewhere."

In a deadpan voice, she said, "I believe it goes, 'it's always five P.M. somewhere.' "

I laughed nervously, "Oh yeah, I guess I messed that one up. Anyway, I'll be right back."

In the kitchen, I had the urge to pour the red wine we had into water tumblers, but I restrained myself and went with wine glasses I wanted to take the bottle with me, so I tucked it under my arm as I carried the two glasses into the bedroom. Doreen was sitting against the headboard and I sat on the edge of the mattress

When we were there sipping our wine, we stopped for a moment to assess each other. Doreen was simply dressed in a long-sleeved white blouse, brown corduroy trousers, and ordinary black shoes with socks. I tried to josh with her about her footgear. "So, what's with sexy shoes?"

"Well, I wanted to be comfortable while walking. I had a question for you too, actually." She was quite casual as she said, "I was wondering; when you came in here and caught us in bed together -- well, didn't occur to you to have a threesome with us?"

Wow, that caught me by surprise.

I must have done a double-take or something because she was amused by my reaction.

I fumbled for a reply, "I guess I never considered that, I mean, being with you two."

"I think I know what it was."

"Really? Because

I

don't know what it was."

"You were just eager to get a chance to lay your belt across Ellen's behind, that was it. For you, that was better than sex, I think."

"Well, she did like the hand spanking I gave her the week before."

"Yes, but the second one truly a punishment; you wanted her to feel real pain."

I dared say, "But that's not the way you took it. You sort of -- not sort of, you did volunteer for it."

She shrugged, "I found out that I'm kinkier than Ellen is. I mean, it did hurt, but I was excited by it too. In fact, I'd say I'm at least as kinky as you are."

What was trying to imply? That we were a good match for each other? I managed to say, "Well okay, but all three of us found out about it in the last week or so. I admit, I did have fantasies about it at times -- I mean about Ellen."

She knew it was time to back off a bit from that loaded topic and get to another one, equally loaded. "In any case, what do you think about her now? Do you still love her, perhaps?"

Yet that was something I was willing to talk about, and I readily explained what I thought. "We didn't have it easy in our first three years, but that was partially my fault. But this summer, she was just so blatant with screwing around with those two guys. She must have told you about some of that, right?"

"Some of it, yes, but probably not everything."

"Did she tell you about Elephant and Castle, that restaurant in Greenwich Village? That was with the first guy, Ed."

"I don't think so, that doesn't sound familiar."

"That was when I was standing there at the curb, and they drove up in his car."

"No, I'm sure I never heard that one."

I went into storytelling mode. For one thing, the memory of it was still painful for me. "I was supposed to meet all of her buddies from the V.A. for dinner." That was the V.A. Hospital in the Bronx where she was working when she met that Ed dude. "So I was waiting for them, or maybe just for her; I think I was standing in front of St. Vincent's."

I was getting upset by remembering that again, although for some reason I didn't express my anger at the time it had happened. "So they drive up in his car, and they're both drunk as skunks." That seemed an odd way to put it. "And she's in the passenger seat, and they're pawing at each other, with me watching."

I was beginning to regret telling all of this to Doreen, but I was too far into it to stop. "Then instead of just leaving, I stayed there until they parked the car and then we into went into the restaurant, this Elephant and Castle place. And all of her colleagues, they had already been to a bar somewhere and they were all drunk too."

"So did you also drink?"

"No, I just sat there and ordered something to eat." I was about to say that I was depressed or in a state of shock or something like that, but I felt like I was saying too much about it already. "You know, some guys would have..."

Would have what, killed them?

That seemed way too extreme for me. "Some guys would have gone home and then dumped her as soon as she came back."

"But obviously, you didn't do that."

I shook my head.

Man, Doreen must think I'm a pathetic loser for letting Ellen walk all over me like that for several months.

And I hadn't even alluded to her latter infidelities with Tommy. But at least I was being honest with her and I wasn't asking for pity.

For a moment I considered where I stood with Doreen. I had been with her to a bar on Thursday night, and we had our little sexual adventure the following evening. Perhaps it had been a mere fling; it didn't seem like a serious commitment.

I just sat there for a few moments, then I said, "Would you like another glass of wine?"

She wanted one, so I went and got refills for both of us. When I got back she surprised me by saying, "Why don't you come over and sit here?" She indicated my usual side of the bed; I would be sitting next to her against the headboard. I shrugged, took off my shoes, and settled in there.

There were a lot of things I wanted to ask her about, one of which was when she had gotten involved with Ellen and what she thought about her now. I remembered her seeming indifferent when I was swinging my belt against the ample bottom of her supposed friend and lover.

It was satisfying to hear Ellen yelp as I whacked her across her misbehaving backside. But why had she put up with it? I hadn't restrained her in any way. Maybe she had liked it more than she had admitted.

I was frankly confused by these two ladies in my life, both of which I had met at about the same time but only one of whom I had married. Sometimes I wondered if I would take up with Doreen if Ellen left. For a brief while, about twenty-four hours, it seemed to come true. Then I wasn't so sure.

Then Doreen said something that was uncannily like my own thoughts. "Did you ever hear that song 'The Clean-Up Woman?' By Betty Wright, I think it was."

"Sure, it came out in like '71 or '72."

"So didn't you think of me that way?"

I had already sort of confessed to that. "I guess so, but how did you figure that out?"

"You must know by now that we ladies are always several steps ahead of you guys."

Then she put her arms around my shoulders and started kissing me. She quietly said, "How about we sully the marital bed?"

I guess she is okay with me after all.

And, like most guys, I wasn't going to turn down such a blatant proposition, especially from a woman I had been fantasizing about for a very long time. I thought,

it's a good thing she never tried this earlier because I might have yielded and cheated on Ellen.

Was I cheating now? I didn't spend much time wondering about it, because Doreen and I were soon undressing each other as we sat on the bed. She pulled my shirt and undershirt up and caressed my body. Then she undid my pants and let my erect cock pop out. She stroked it and I said, "Believe me, you don't have to do too much of that."

She said, "I get it; you're already primed to go. I can feel it."

I was a little behind in undressing her, so I unbuttoned her blouse and undid her bra. I already knew how much she liked having her nipples sucked, so I did some of that. Then I reached down and opened the top of her trousers.

"Here, I'll take care of that." She removed her shoes and then her pants. I noticed that she had knee-high nylons on underneath. "Do you mind if I leave these on?"

"Honey, I

want

you to leave them on."

"I should have known that! My behind is still kind of sore, so I'm going to do a cowgirl on you, okay?"

"Hey, that certainly works for me."

Doreen got up on her knees and placed herself over me. I put my hands into the front of her panties and began rubbing her down there. On that day her underpants were blue.

"Oh God, that feels so good."

I wondered when this cute Irish chick last got laid. Probably it had been a while since I hadn't heard about any boyfriends recently. In a few moments, I pulled her underwear down and she removed them and tossed them aside.

She smiled down at me. "Surely you've imagined this before."

"Of course, sometimes even just like this."

"That's no way for a married man to think."

"Well, with Ellen, that was no way for a married woman to act."

For a moment, I remembered Doreen's mouth on Ellen's pussy -- I had seen that just two days earlier -- and I regretted saying that. But Doreen didn't seem to mind. She grasped the headboard and I grasped her narrow waist. Her hand guided my cock into herself, and then she began a rhythmic bouncing on me. She wasn't too fast, but she was thorough with it, and soon we were moaning together as our bodies collided.

Unfortunately, I got overly excited, and I knew I'd come way too fast. Doreen could tell it was going to happen, but she encouraged me anyway. "Don't hold back, shoot it into me if you are ready." I pulled her down on me, and I pushed up as I spurted.

I was saying something incoherent, but she commented on my actions. "That's so fine, I can feel how hot your cum is in me." When I was done, she got off me and lay down on my right side. "Don't worry, baby, you'll have another one for me soon, I know that."

As she held me, I looked around the room at the furniture Ellen and I had collected over the last three years. Most of it had been abandoned by tenants moving out of her father's buildings. I almost mentioned that fact, but it seemed irrelevant now.

A couple of minutes later, I noticed that Doreen had fallen asleep. Red wine and sex will do that to a person, and soon I had conked out too.

*****

When we woke up about an hour later, Doreen and I immediately grabbed each other and started kissing. I rubbed my hands along her body. Since her blouse and bra were gaping open, and she was naked below the waist except for her knee stockings, there were plenty of good places to touch.

Soon she back on top of me again, riding my cock as she had been doing before. This time I had stamina for her, and I brought her to the climax she had missed during our first coupling. She made a great deal of noise as she gripped the headboard and slammed herself into me. Of course, then it was my turn to come in her -- the second time for me in fact. It was also my turn to make some noise.

Doreen soon needed a cigarette -- her first for the day -- and she got her panties back on and sat in a rocking chair near the bed. The chair had been another cast-off that Ellen had picked-up along the way.

In a joshing sort of way, I said, "Why don't you move in and live here with me? There's plenty of room as you can see."

"That's a bit premature, don't you think? Although I guess you could use some help with the rent now, I suppose."

Maybe I was half-serious, "It's a pretty nice place, as you can see."

No one knew it yet, but 1981 was near the end of affordable housing in New York. Ellen and I had rented this substantial floor-through apartment for only $300 per month, which would be about $900 in today's money. I can't imagine what that same place must go for now, but it's certainly far more than that.

I added, "I wonder which pieces of furniture Ellen is going to want to take with her. That's assuming she really is leaving." For a second I regretted saying that.

"Would you take her back if she wanted that?"

"I'm truly ambivalent about it. When she threatened to leave last spring -- from the Bronx apartment -- after a bit I wasn't that sorry about her going."

"Yes, and it's even easier to contemplate with the clean-up woman here now, isn't it?"

She must have seen my look of dismay, because she added, "I was pulling your leg, you must get that, right?" Actually, I wasn't so sure she was kidding me.

She continued, "Anyway, the reason she probably left instead of throwing you out is that she didn't want to get stuck with the rent here either."

Back then, $300 was not considered "affordable" by most people, but merely normal. I guess with my salary as a brokerage clerk, it seemed like a substantial obligation to meet every month.

I said, "If it comes to that, maybe I should move out and get something more reasonable."

"Wait and see what happens first, but I doubt she's moving back here."

I felt more relaxed by that point and we chatted for a while. Then I proposed that we go up to Fifth Avenue and get some Chinese take-out, so we got dressed and went out for a while.

When we got back, instead of sitting at the table in the living room, we ate in the kitchen. Ellen's dad had installed a big fold-down table along one wall, and for we chose that. We had picked-up a couple of six-packs of beer, and we drank some bottles too.

Afterwards, Doreen said, "I still have a doobie and a half with me, if you want a smoke." I must have looked askance at her, because she said, "Don't worry, I don't buy it that often; I'm not a burn-out case."

I had just enough to feel the effects. As I sat there, I realized that the last two days had been by far the longest stretch of time I had ever spent alone with Doreen. And I felt comfortable with her now. After six years of Ellen's drama, three of them in marriage, is was nice to be with a calmer woman as a change of pace. I thought again,

maybe living with her really is a viable option.

However, I didn't say that. She caught me staring at her, but she just smiled back.

I went to the living room and picked a record for us to listen to. I had just gotten back to my stool in the kitchen when I heard the front door of the apartment being unlocked. Ellen of course walked in. She got as far as the kitchen door, and she stopped. I was a bit shocked, but Doreen looked back at her with remarkable aplomb. Ellen said, "What are you doing here?"

Doreen said, "No much; I'm just hanging out." She laughed, "And getting stoned too, as you can see."

I expected my wife (or was she an ex-wife?) to lose her temper, but that didn't happen. She seemed to be unable to respond. I dared say, "And what are

you

doing here?"

"I live here, or I used to anyway. I came back to pick up some stuff. In fact, I rented a car and it's parked downstairs." So it seemed she truly was leaving.

Doreen waved her over, "Why don't you sit down and share a few puffs with us?"

I didn't expect it, but that's exactly what Ellen did. She places herself on a stool between Doreen and me. I looked her over, this woman who had been my lover and then wife for more than half a decade. She was wearing new deep-blue jeans today. And it seemed that she was reluctant to look at me.

However, she did share the first joint with us. That girl always enjoyed her intoxicants. I remember drinking pitchers of sangria or beer with her at a place in the Village called Adam and Eve's. That was when we were first dating over six years earlier.

I was going to offer her some of the leftover Chinese food, but then I was in the mood to stir up things a bit. Usually my tactic in life was to be unobtrusive, not cause trouble with people. Maybe I'd been a bit too cautious in the ways I handled things. Maybe it was also the pot, maybe it was the events of the past two days, or maybe it was everything about the last four months or so -- but I wanted to push it a bit and shake up both of them.