My Second Piece of Ass

The key on the rose trellis was easier to find. It was mid day on the 27th of July. I had been gone one day shy of 4 weeks and had cut it close. Laura would probably come in sometime during the night and spend until Saturday the 31st with me. As I entered through the back door I saw the telephone on the kitchen wall.

Having made the commitment to take Laura to see a doctor, to be with her, to share her life, I had brought most of my possessions. I made several trips to my car, dumping my stuff in the middle of the floor in the second bedroom.

To my surprise, the bed had been made. She must have done that when she let the guy in to install the telephone. I wondered when that had been, before I told her I would take her to see a doctor or after? I had not seen the second phone on the floor next to the bed until it rang.

“Hi Honey, when did you get there? Did you have any trouble?”

“Just got here, everything is fine, how are you?”

“Do you want to pick me up? I mean, I can take a cab, should I do that?”

We met at the same corner where I had dropped her off a month before. She wore the same loose fitting clothes. She attempted a smile, the shallow look in her eyes would not allow it. I got out of the car to open the door for her. She was soft and small in my arms. We did not kiss.

“I’ve been wondering about something,” I said when we were under way.

Laura sat on the far side of the seat. She stiffened; alarm came over her face. She was on guard, bracing herself for a subject too sensitive to discuss.

“Is Stone your married name?”

I saw her guard drop and the shadow disappear from her face. “I’ve never been married, why do you ask?”

“How are you going to explain me? This is a small town, there will be gossip, two people with different names living in the same house?”

“Are you suggesting we should get married?” she asked, smiling for the first time.

“Would that suit you?”

She reached for my right hand and placed it on her cheek. “That’s just what you need, an old prostitute to take care of,” she said sarcastically, moving my hand against her cheek. “I’m going to take care of you,” I said seriously.

Laura dropped my hand and looked out the window. We rode in silence.

“Want to come in?” I asked, parking in front of the only grocery store in town. There was nothing in the house to eat.

We shopped together, consulting the other about each item we tossed into the cart. “I’ve given this some thought, this is how it will work. I’m a widow and you’re my brother. My husband, C. C. Stone, was killed at sea two years ago and you came to live with me because our parents are dead.” She looked my way to see if I was following the plot.

“What does C. C. stand for?”

Laura had a blank look on her face but soon brightened. “Christopher Columbus,” she smiled, then added, “But we call him C.C., never Chris.”

“How do you explain your long absences?”

“Simple, I have a job that requires a lot of travel,” she said, picking up a loaf of pumpernickel and looking to me for approval.

“But what’s your occupation? Here’s your chance to be anything you like, what will it be?”

“It would be easier to just tell people I’m a prostitute,” she said, fluttering eyelashes at me.

We had a battle over who would pay for the groceries. Laura won, telling the cashier, “My little brother is too young to buy his own groceries.”

“Did you see how good I was? I didn’t touch you once that whole time in the store. Do you think the cashier believed me?

“She probably had her doubts,” I said, “just from the way we were looking at each other she probably thought, incest.”

“I’ll give you incest. All the other little boys will wish they had a sister like me.”

We took off our clothes and lay on the bed, she wore her plain panties and put her head on my chest. We talked about our living arrangements, refining our story, trying to think of suitable employment for Laura.

“We’ll go shopping tomorrow, okay? I want to get curtains for the other windows and we can get a TV set if you want. We should buy a bed for the second bedroom, for appearance sake, if someone comes inside it won’t look like we sleep together.”

“I’m not going to let you pay for all this stuff. We don’t need a TV, If I go to school it would be a distraction,” I said.

“Are you going to go to school?”

“Don’t know, I’m going to look into it but first I’ve got to get a job.”

“No you don’t. I don’t want you working if you go to college.”

“So, I’m going to be a kept man? I never thought it would come to this, fucking my sister and letting her support me.”

“Sis has her needs. C C has been gone a long time.”

I stroked her hair. Seeing Laura in a jovial mood was giving me hope, false hope. During the night she tossed and turned, kicked and flailed. At one point she sat up and screamed, “MY ASS, MY ASS, NOT MY ASS!”

She wouldn’t let me touch her. Each time I tried she jerked her body away she struck me with her slim hand. I was wide awake; she was still asleep.

It was 3:47 a.m. I went to the kitchen and made coffee, wanting to be near if she needed me but not near enough to catch a fist in the eye. I walked from room to room, waiting for the coffee to make, wondering what I was going to do.

“Honey, are you here?” She had awakened. I was standing in the kitchen drinking my second cup of coffee. I went to her.

She stretched out her arms to me. I put down the coffee cup and went to her. She wanted to be held. She wore the long night gown, looking small in the dark. I stroked her hair and let her hold me. She brought me down to lie on top of her.

“You feel good,” she said, running her hands over my back. Afraid I would crush her, I supported my weight on one elbow. In the dark I could make out the serious look on her face.

“I had a bad dream. You were in it. Then I woke up and you weren’t here with me, when I called for you and you came I was so relieved, are you okay? You didn’t really drink the poison, did you?”

“No, it was coffee, I had two cups of coffee,” I tried to assure her that I was fine.

“I’m going to do you, what is that thing you like, what do we call it?”

“I think it’s called a blow job,” I laughed, feeling her body giggle in the dark.

“That thing you like, why do you call it milking?”

“Oh that. I like that better than anything. When I was a kid I milked a cow a few times, it’s like that, like milking a cow.”

“Did you live on a farm? You never said that, tell me about that. I want to know everything about you.”

“I never lived on a farm. I visited a friend. He got up early to help milk the cows. They used a milking machine but there was this one old cow that only had three tits. They let me milk her some times. There was very little light in the barn so I learned to find the three good tits in the dark”

Laura snapped her fingers. “We’ll call it milking, you just snap your fingers and say, hey sis, milk me and I will.”

We lay in the dark, holding each other, our bodies jiggling together.

She snapped her fingers again. “Have you forgotten how to snap your fingers? Come on, snap your fingers and say, hey sis, milk me, come on, snap your fingers, I want to do you.”

“Let’s lay here like this and talk. I like it when you hold me, let’s just talk.”

“Okay, what shall we talk about? Would you rather have a blow job?”

“Tell me about C C, was C C Stone a good lover?”

“C C Stone didn’t know which end was up. He was very insecure because he knew he had a tiny cock. I tried to prop up his ego. ‘Oh, C C, don’t put it in all the way, your huge, I can’t take it all at once,’ but C C knew better, he knew he was small.”

She had me laughing. “He died at sea, how did that happen?”

“He was on a ship headed for China, trying to get away from me. He left a note saying that I was over sexed, he knew he could never satisfy me. The report said he jumped overboard after one of the seamen had seen his little cock and told the other sailors how small he was.”

“Really?” I laughed.

“Really, now snap you fingers, I’m bored with making stuff up about C C Stone.”

I snapped my fingers, “Hey, sis, milk me,” and braced myself for the onslaught that I knew would follow. With surprising strength, Laura shoved me aside, shed her nightgown and stripped me of my shorts.

With my balls in her hand, she bent down and engulfed my cock, bringing it to its extended state with three long sucks, leaving saliva roll from the tip down the sides. In the dark I watched her lower her wet pussy until we were one. She sat upon me, holding my balls in her left hand, her right hand on my chest for balance. Still not moving, she had my full attention.

“Say it again, tell me what to do.”

I snapped my fingers, “Hey, sis, milk me.”

And she did. Smiling down at me, her eyes locked on mine, she gave me a feel that sent chills through me. She kept it up for several minutes before leaning forward. I took her tits in my hands as she brought her mouth to my ears.

“My darling, I can not tell you how happy you make me. I can not put into words how thrilled I was when you answered the phone. I had dialed the number a dozen times, hoping that you would answer, hoping that nothing would happen, praying that you had not changed your mind. You will never know, I will tell you every day but you will never know how happy you make me.”

She raised herself to the sitting position, still milking. When she brought her tits to my waiting hands and her lips back to my ear I felt dampness on my cheek.

“My darling, you are the dearest thing I have ever known. Believe me, I have never trusted anyone the way I trust you. When I heard your voice, when you answered the phone it was like my prayers had been answered.”

“Does that feel good?” She was back in the sitting position, smiling down at me, the Korean trinket hanging on the chain between her tits, dampness on her cheek, her thumb rolling my balls in her hand and her pussy making my cock sing. She laughed when I let out a whoop, declaring that she was the answer to my prayers. “Just snap your fingers, that’s all you have to do,” she said, running to the bathroom ahead of me. She wouldn’t let me switch on the light.

“Why me?” I asked. We were having an early breakfast, standing with our plates on the kitchen counter top. Laura was wearing the kimono. She looked my way, a puzzled expression on her face.

“Why did you pick me for your R & R in town?”

“Oh, I don’t really know, it was something about the way you looked at me, as if I was not just some whore sucking your dick. I’ll admit, at first I was just teasing you, asking you to show me a good time. When I called you and talked you into spending the weekend together it was still a tease. I think when you told me about Mary Ann and how you got so frustrated with her not putting out, I think that was when I begin to trust you.”

“But Laura, you’ve trusted me with your money. I don’t even trust myself that much.”

She put down her fork and came into my arms. “Sweety,” she whispered into my ear, “the money is nothing compared to the trust I have placed in you, I told you about Karen.”

She clung to me. I held her, rocking in my arms.

“Why won’t you tell me who did that to you? Who burned you?”

She tensed, pushed me away and ran to the bedroom. A minute later I heard the shower running. I began to wash the breakfast dishes and clean up the kitchen.

The new checks had arrived. Laura wrote checks to pay the rent and some bills and we drove down to the post office to mail them. She wanted me to go into the bank with her. On the way to the car she handed me the deposit slip to post in the check book.

“Holy shit, Laura, do you think it’s a good idea to deposit that much cash? What if the bank starts wondering where all those bills are coming from?”

“So,” she said nonchalantly, “who cares?”

“Not me. I don’t care. It’s just that if they start snooping around it could get you into trouble, trouble for all of you. It could close you down.”

“What choice do I have? Stick the cash in the mattress?”

“We need to figure out a way to launder the cash,” I said.

“Okay honey, you do that,” she said, sliding next to me in the car seat. I put my arm around her and gave her a short kiss before starting the car. She was wearing cut -offs, a sleeveless blouse and white sneakers. I stuck my thumb under the neck of the blouse to take a peek at the plain white bra she was wearing.

She smiled, “snap your fingers and I’ll take it off,” she chided me.

I drove aimlessly, knowing she wanted to look for curtains. As we approached the city Laura got edgy. I noticed her looking around, a frightened look on her face.

“Where are we going? Can’t we take a different road?”

“I thought you wanted to buy some curtains, this is the most direct route if we’re going to find the best stores.”

When I stopped for a traffic light she became hysterical. She couldn’t sit still, jumping around the seat like it was hot. When the light changed and I stepped on the gas she leaned down on the seat as if she was going to put her head in my lap. I put my head on her shoulder and felt her body shake. Her head was buried in her hands. What the hell?

Two blocks passed before Laura raised her head. Sheepishly, she peered around, fear still in her eyes. I reached for her and she sidled her hip next to mine and took my free hand in hers. “Snap your fingers, that’s all you have to do,” she said, placing my open palm on her breast.

We paid cash for curtains, all white lace except for the fruit pattern she picked out for the kitchen windows. We made arrangements for a furniture store to deliver the bed and a small kitchen table with two chairs on the following Monday.

“My brother will write a check for the balance when you make the delivery,” Laura said sweetly to the salesman.

She wanted me to go west for a few miles to a bedding store where she selected sheets and pillow cases for my new twin sized bed.

“We can take this road north, can’t we?” she said, looking at me expectantly when we approached a highway. When I turned onto the road she slid next to me, getting close. “Now you’ll have a place to sleep when I get rowdy in the night”

“I don’t mind you getting rowdy,” I tried to assure her.

“Now you have a place to bring girls, I don’t want you bringing them into my bed, okay?”

She caught me off guard. Startled at what she had said, I vowed not to bring a girl to the house. She laughed, “Just remember what I said. Don’t fuck the little tarts in my bed, understand?”

On Wednesday we hung the curtains and talked about how we could deposit her pay into the checking account without raising suspicions in the bank. I suggested that we could buy money orders, deposit them into my checking account back home, then make a deposit to our joint account with a check from my account.

“What ever you think best,” Laura said, dismissing the subject.

We went out to eat that night. Laura wore a simple short skirt and a same sleeveless blouse from the day before. To my surprise, small pearl ear rings adorned her ears. On the way to the car I gave her one too many glances.

“Do you want to see my tits, just snap your fingers, you know I’ll do anything for you,” Laura wagged her finger at me.

“I was checking the chain, don’t you ever take it off?” I was thinking that it clashed with the pearl ear rings.

We went to a Mexican restaurant in a nearby town and ordered the hottest dishes on the menu. We drank several Mexican beers. We both got a little naughty. I asked Laura for a big favor. She said sure, anything. “Will you teach me cunnilingus? She roared, then said she would be glad to teach me how to lick pussy. “We’re being so naughty,” she laughed. It was good to hear.

“Randy?”

“Yes?” we were laying on the bed on Thursday morning. Laura clutching one of my hands to her belly.

“If I was the cashier? At that grocery store we were in? And you were a customer?” She paused, pressing my hand to her stomach.

“Yes?”

“Would you hit on me?”

“Would I hit on you? What made you think of such a thing?”

“Would you think I was attractive? If I was the cashier and you were buying a roast and I happened to ask how you were going to cook it. If I said, ‘do you like it rare?’ What would you say?”

“I would say that it depends on how you like your roast beef. If you like it rare I would offer to cook it rare for you.”

“Are you hitting on me? Are you asking me for a date?”

“Yes, how do you like your roast beef cooked?”

“Would you hit on me because you thought I was pretty?”

“Yes I would, you’re my number one.”

“I thought I was your second piece of ass.”

I had to explain about that night in the brothel when I had mentally ranked the five girls one through five, ending, “you were my number one.”

Laura turned my way, leaned down and kissed me, the Korean trinket landing on my chest. “If I was the cashier would you pick me up?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Prove it,” she said, turning, her back to me, my hand back on her belly.

“Okay, how do you want me to prove it?”

“Go to that store and hit on the cashier, take her out, seduce her. If you are successful you will have proven that you would hit on me if I was a cashier.”

“You’re shitting me, I’m not going to do that.”

She released my hand and her body became rigid. I tried to rub her tummy. She rolled away from me and lay quietly. “I worry about you being here alone. You need to meet other people, I’m not enough for you,” she said in a strange quiet way.

“I’m not going to hit on that cashier. For one thing she’s not as pretty as you.”

“You didn’t look at her. She has blue eyes and a nice body. I didn’t care for the way she has streaked her hair but that can be corrected. She wasn’t wearing a ring either.”

“Don’t forget what we talked about,” Laura said when I dropped her off on Saturday morning. I tried to extend our kiss but she wiggled away and was out the door before I could give her one last pat on the ass. She didn’t look back until she reached the front door of the brothel.

On Monday, I was saying goodbye to furniture guys who had delivered the new bed and table when a small wiry man walked across the front lawn.

“Who are you?” he asked abruptly.

Not having a telephone number I wrote Tess a letter at the brothel.

Dear Sis,

Looks like we’ll have to move. The landlord came by and stuck a for sale sign in the front yard. He said the lease was up but we can stay on month by month if we let him show the house. If we’re not willing to let people in we’re out at the end of this month. I said I would check with you. Want me to look for a place to move?

Your loving brother, Randy

Dropping the letter into the slot at the post office I wondered how long it would take for it to travel the fourteen miles. On the way back home I walked slowly past the grocery store. The cashier was bagging an order for an elderly lady. Laura had described her perfectly. I didn’t find the streak in her hair objectionable. Laura couldn’t be serious about me hitting on her, could she?

On Tuesday I drove to the city. On the outskirts of town I remembered Laura’s strange demeanor when we approached an intersection. The light was green so I buzzed right through, looking on both sides of the street see what had spooked her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. On the corner to the left was a service station. On the right was a used car lot. Next came a block of stores on the left and a small cafe on the right. Traffic was heavy; I had to speed up, thinking I would take a closer look on the way home.

A saucy little receptionist at a hospital listened to my request, then made a call and told me to have a seat. A few minutes later I rose to my feet when a very attractive lady extended her hand. She must have been in her mid thirties. She had dark hair, brown eyes and a smile that made me want to pee. The red blazer was the only piece of clothing that I took notice of. Her name tag read Mrs. Connor.