Dont Use Jargon Pt 03

Part 3 - Mickey Adds Another Lover

Chapter 9 - Mickey Suffers with Writing

For a miserable week, I followed the new rules. Writing in the morning, remodeling labor in the afternoon, relaxation in the evening. Hugging and kissing with the women dropped nearly to zero. After hearing my project assignment, Naomi was very distant and stopped coming over after school, saying she had to do research on the paper.

Lacking inspiration, my writing was going nowhere until one late afternoon, while sharing the tub with Margo and Emily, our landlady started talking about her grandfather's adventures during World War II. A farm boy, he took the train to Seattle for a job with Boeing after being turned down for the draft because of a leg that had healed badly after being broken in a machinery accident.

As a young girl, Emily had listened to stories of hectic times on the aircraft assembly line, where no two days seemed the same because of constant changes to the plane designs.

We were cooked by the hot water before I heard much of the story, but the next day an outline of a war novel began falling in place. After dinner, I arranged Emily in my lap and coaxed more of her grandfather's story from her.

Margo sat nearby, smiling and listening. Later, she was alone in my arms in bed, Cait having gone to spend the night with Naomi. "You finally have a story idea, don't you," she whispered, rubbing on me.

"Yes," I whispered back, kneading the muscled rear. "A beginning, at least. Do you suppose Emily will mind if her family is part of my novel?"

"Mickey, we have been feeling sorry for you. We didn't expect the discipline idea would make you so sour." Her hand reached between us and produced a giggle. "You don't seem sour this evening. Why don't you find a home for this? A warm, wet home."

The anxious cock drove hard, turning her giggle into a loud moan and releasing my pentup desire in a fierce rush. Margo wanted her own release and beat on my ass with her feet. After a few wild strokes, I calmed, needing to match my loving with hers.

"Better," she hissed, "you are no fun all bottled up with frustration." A quick twist and she was looking down at me, breathing hard and laughing. "Not finished, are you? What kind of a woman is it that fucks without a marriage license?"

A sudden inspiration seized me, and I leapt out of the bed with her in my arms, running across the yard to the other house, where a light was still on. Emily's eyes widened at seeing two naked bodies rushing to her bed. "What on earth..."

I applied kisses everywhere, easing her out of the nightie. Margo shouted, "He's all better and chasing his women again!" With two of us after her, Emily squealed and laughed. "Stop, you can't just run in here and ..."

My slimy cock slid home with a satisfying liquid sound and a long, "Ohhh," from our lovely, loving substitute mother. Margo slapped my butt and chanted, "Yes, yes, yes," as Emily twisted under me, quickly coming to boil and complaining what a devil I was. "Now!" shouted Margo and used both hands to drive me deep into the shuddering cunt, where my hose splashed generously. After a moment, I was pushed to the side as they embraced, calling me names.

Telling them to stay where they were, I found the bottle of cognac and three glasses.

Clutching their bottoms, they ordered a cleanup. "No mess in my bed, you terrible man."

A quick shower later, Emily was squeezed between us, still twitching from sudden sex.

"Emily, I've come to ask a favor."

Pulling on my hair for a quick kiss, she asked, "After ravishing the landlady, you want a favor?"

Margo said, "He is actually being serious. He thinks your grandfather's stories about the war could make a fine book. Would you consent to that?"

Her eyes were serious. "Shouldn't we talk about that tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course. Families are important. I am sorry for bringing it up."

Emily pulled her tight. "Time for sleep, you sexy thing. Naughty sexy thing."

I slipped away thinking how close the three of us had become in such a short time.

In the morning, I was allowed to sleep in. The sound of voices from the kitchen awakened me. They were talking about the novel and Emily's grandfather. I lay peacefully, listening to them debate how much could be true story and how much fictionalized.

Soon, they appeared in the doorway, sipping their coffee and peering at me. "We've solved your problem."

"My lack of sex problem?"

Their frowns deepened as I rose from the bed and advanced toward them, a hard cock leading the way.

Emily gave me her toughest voice, "Stop behaving like a stud for a moment and come talk to us about the book."

Cait walked in just as a plate of fabulous eggs was delivered before me. "What have I missed?"

Margo pushed one of her writing pads at me and said, "Take notes. Your future as a best selling novelist depends on it." To Cait, she said, "He is receiving guidance from us about his book."

Emily stood by my side tweaking an ear. "I have decided you can be trusted to treat my family history properly."

"You realize there has to be drama and excitement? Perhaps someone dying in the war?"

Margo pushed my empty plate to the side and eased into my lap. "And sex. Lots of sex. You can practice on the three of us."

I looked at three smiling faces and worried, "This has to be period correct. Are you capable of advising me on Forties style sex?"

Cait cuffed me with an oath. "We know, dummy, that wives and girlfriends weren't supposed to enjoy sex. The women in your story have to be special. Remember that Rosie the Riveter business? The hero's girl has to be very demanding, especially about sex. You can write that the poor guy doesn't know what to do when she shoves his hand in her pants."

Cait was looking serious and the other two were laughing. I lunged at her but she danced away.

"You have me writing a war novel with a 1940's feminist as a lead character? She is a closet Dom and insists on her own way of loving? Tell me, does the poor hero ever get a chance at a good fuck?"

That required a dash to the messy bed and a vigorous wrestle with three women who knew all about bedroom domination. Or thought they did.

"Mickey, we should be mad, but this is too much fun. Don't do any more thinking, just go and write the first chapter right off the top of your head. I will tell you if I think my grandfather is suffering too much!" Emily laughed and poked me in the ribs again.

Chapter 10 - The Novel Takes Shape

I did write and the story began to fall in place. I teased Margo whenever we had sex by asking if she was behaving as the girl in my story should.

"Mickey, we may come to blows over this. You are asking how my grandmother behaved in bed when she was a young woman just married!"

At that moment, we were alone in my room on a non-teaching day. We had brought breakfast back to bed and talked about the forthcoming last two weeks of the class before I got distracted by her nipples, which had mysteriously stiffened and poked out the front of her nighty.

"What was your grandmother's name?"

"Eunice. Why do you ask?"

"I need your help imagining their bedroom behavior."

"If you cause trouble, I will beat you!"

"Ok. Now Eunice has been married just a month, but can't get over how nice it is to wake up with a warm body in bed with her, especially since the heat has been turned down because of fuel rationing. One thing she is not used to is how hard her husband Tom's penis is every morning. Momma never said anything about that."

Margo picked up the story. "She is worried about where to live. Tom has a job offer in Seattle, but word is that apartments are all taken by new Boeing workers. She hates living with her parents, and doesn't like the idea of having to settle for a room with a houseful of others. She is embarrassed that when she and Tom make love, everything blows apart and she ends up moaning and wailing as she comes. She is certain her mother does not approve, but they don't talk about it."

I filled in more details. "Eunice is astonished that Tom is after her for sex morning and night. He talks to her constantly about her marvelous body and her incredible cunt. She is completely mortified by having her private place called by its crude street name. But when he is inside, thrusting hard and calling her his perfect slut, nothing matters but coming on the shaft giving her such pleasure."

Overcome by the story, Margo pushed the covers down and spread her legs wide, guiding my cock straight home. "What about the f-word, Mickey? That's another crude street name. Does Tom use it? Does she complain she is not that kind of girl?"

"Lover, in the story, they find that joy and excitement in bed are taking over their marital life. She was scared to death of him at first, being a virgin on her wedding day. Now, after a month, she goes after him instead of waiting like a proper wife for him to chase her down. When he comes in the door from working all day in the family hardware store, the first thing she whispers in his ear is, "What about a fuck, honey?"

Margo was marvelously turned on. Humping and panting. I upped the ante.

"On their first month anniversary, she begged a piece of rationed steak from her grocer father, and fixed a fine dinner. When Tom arrived, she hugged him and asked for some gin, which nice girls didn't drink. Sitting on his lap, kissing and sipping, she wiggled her bottom and let him discover there was no underwear under the flowered dress.

"Eunice," he said, "you are a tramp. My very special tramp. Drink up because I am going to remove this dress and chase you all over the house. It is a good thing your parents and sister have gone out."

I swatted Margo's bum as hard as I could to give her incentive for some chasing around.

"Bastard," she cried, "you are just making this up so you can give me rough sex! What if Emily hears us and comes over?"

We were in the living room and she was delightfully spread over the sofa, pinned down by my hard cock that was giving her insides no relief.

A voice from the doorway said, "Wrecking my furniture, are you?"

We looked that way to see the dress fly over her head to the carpet. She barged into my arms, yanking my dripping tool from my fiancee. "Why am I always last?"

Margo took a firm grip on middle-aged tits and cooed in her ear, "Emily, I hope he feels good in there. Don't you like a man with a big cock who knows how to use it?"

I growled, "Emily, I am not giving up this body and this cunt. Margo has given me permission for sharing." I slammed once more and she came with a sharp cry.

My intended grabbed me and tumbled us over the sofa. I was back in place in seconds as she hissed, "Giving away my permissions? This better be good."

Something about Eunice's story, the bright warm morning, and three eager bodies carried the junior orgy for another half hour. Finally, the two of them lay on the carpet, grinning, dripping and holding hands. "He likes acting out his own stories."

Standing, they coldly told me, "Go and write all this down while it is fresh. We will shower and clean up the disaster you have created."

Chapter 11 - Naomi Claims Her Reward

That morning turned a corner in my writing. Pages flew out of the printer next to my computer. My three critics pounced on the day's output every evening after dinner. Lewd remarks were frequent.

"Mickey, your writing is good, really good. We have to find you an agent." Cait took this as a personal challenge and began researching how one found an agent. "A capable agent with a track record who still takes new authors," she said.

At the beginning of the last week of class, Naomi came up afterwards and asked, "Could we have a conference about my paper?"

I frowned, "Only if you agree to come to dinner and talk to me in the hot tub."

She had a look that softened my heart. Beautiful, vulnerable, anxious. I wanted to crush her in my arms, but people were all around.

"What if you don't like it?"

I said, "Come closer," and whispered, "you will go over my knee."

With a big smile, she stepped back and mouthed, "Yes!"

At dinner that night, Cait looked at me accusingly, "You have done it to Naomi again. She is six inches off the ground. Says you will only talk to her about the paper in the hot tub."

"Did she tell you about my threat?"

"No. What is that about?"

"She asked what happened if I didn't like the paper, and I said she was going over my knee."

Margo spoke up, "Mickey, she is your best student. The paper is an honors assignment. Of course, you are going to like it."

Cait gave me a look and said, "She is going to want her reward for a good job."

"Why do you think she is coming for dinner and a hot tub?"

Now Emily was giving me the look. "Foreplay."

Thursday was the last day of class. I praised them all and said no one had gotten less than a B. As they cheered and filed out, Naomi asked, "Tomorrow?" and I nodded, "Bring the paper."

I decided some suspense was in order, telling the others that evening, "I am going to relax on the swing and read the paper. You will distract her with dinner chores. When we sit down, I will tell her that the class is over and she has satisfied all the requirements. And is no longer my student."

Cait said, "That is cruel, she will be dying of suspense."

"Exactly. Someone that smart and talented needs a little excitement once in a while."

I spent the day Friday working on class grades. Almost all of them showed a lot of progress. Even the laggards had improved. I wasn't using the school's recommended grade distribution. This was summer school. With every distraction imaginable, you got credit for actually doing the assigned work. Hard work and demonstrated improvement got you a B. That and some real quality output got you an A.

By midafternoon, my grade book had 18 B's and 12 A's. Margo arrived and I showed her the book.

"Mickey, the other teachers are impressed that you got so much enthusiasm from your class. I hope you don't mind that I recommended you to the Dean for second year English in the fall. I think it will help with your writing to have a class in addition."

"I still get privileges with you on top of all that?"

I was about to be knocked to the floor when Cait and Naomi showed up.

"I think they need privacy. Let's go for a run. Give him the paper."

Naomi was going to have to do something about her eyes. They were busy writing a novel all by themselves. Darting around the room, flashing at me with trepidation and anticipation. Filling with moisture but then widening as naked Cait undressed her in front of Margo and me. Shuddering and almost jumping into her shorts and running bra. Dashing out the door behind Cait and dropping the big manila envelope in my lap without a word.

Margo's hands were in my hair. "I really want you, but just in case a certain someone has earned her reward, you need to be fresh. Do I get to read over your shoulder?

"Yes, but my first time is fast. After that, I go slower and write notes in the margin."

It was very good work. Even better than first year college. The choice of tales to analyze was first rate. I looked in the back and the bibliography had two hundred entries. Ye gods.

Thirty-three pages at space and a half. Close to twenty thousand well chosen words.

"That's a marvelous job, Mickey. She's probably smarter than we are. I couldn't do that when I was her age."

"Yes. Let's go to Emily's porch, you can fix us drinks while I get busy on the notes."

Using my foot to move the swing gently, I wrote as rapidly as I could, sipping gin and tonic as I went. Every page had at least one "Good!" on it and many had several. Fortunately, she had relied on secondary sources too much in several places, and I had to write, "Primary sources!" here and there. Her youth also showed. In several places, I wrote, "Probably not. Think cruel and devious!"

They still weren't back when I finished and put A+ in the top corner of the first page. I looked up at Margo, "It would be bad form to bury the grade inside, wouldn't it?"

Emily's hand reached for the paper, "May I? I do have a special interest in that girl."

Margo stretched herself on top of me and responded, "Yes. Remember, her folks are going to be beside themselves about the grade after watching her work so hard for more than a month."

Raising her head, I kissed the lips lightly and said, "You complete me in so many ways. I was dumb not to remember parents are anxious about how their kids do in school."

The runners appeared and finished by leaping to the deck from the ground and standing under the outdoor shower while dropping sweaty clothes. Cait stepped out of the water and asked, "The paper? Where is the damn paper?"

Naomi was immobile behind her, arms clasped under the marvelous breasts of my sister, whose eyes were not friendly.

Margo answered, "Emily has it inside so you don't drown it in water play!"

"What grade did she get? Tell us this instant!"

Margo and I said nothing but got up and started dropping our own clothes. I walked over and uncovered the tub.

As we submerged, Emily came to the doorway, paper in hand. "It is lovely, Naomi, and Mickey has wonderful notes for you. But please don't get it wet, you will melt the notes."

Naomi came alive and pushed Cait in our direction. Towel in hand, she and Emily disappeared inside.

Cait stood in the hot water, beating my head. "If you hurt her, I'll..."

Margo pulled her down, "Relax. She did a marvelous job. It's college level work."

My sister turned around and stuck her tongue at me. "Better." I pointed to my knee. She shook her head and held tight to Margo.

In a few minutes, the screen door opened and Naomi marched out, head down so I couldn't see her face, and made a straight line for my lap. Crushing me tight, she whispered, "I worked so damn hard for that A. Thank you." When she looked up to kiss me, tears were running down her cheeks.

By the time Emily climbed in, all four of them were crying openly. I was almost there too. My thoughts about some humor vanished. It seemed I had lit a bigger fire in Naomi's capable mind than I thought.

I squeezed them in all together and went to fix a fancy fruit drink with rum. This was not an afternoon to worry about underage drinking.

When I came back, Emily and Margo were fixing hair and faces on the other two. Smiles were there. Accepting her glass, Naomi looked between my legs and asked, "Have I earned my reward from the person who is no longer my teacher?"

She got my best teasing look, "Whenever you wish, mistress."

Standing, she took my hand. "Come."

Walking across the grass, she said, "I'm too nervous right now. We have to wait. Let's confuse Cait. Spot me while I do a routine."

For half an hour, Naomi and Mickey played in the grass. All the weeks of contained energy went into somersaults, twisting back flips, and other moves I didn't know the names of. She deliberately fell out of several so she could land in my arms with a thump. The aerial maneuvers of the lithe body aroused me.

Landing on my shoulders, she said, "Take me to the cottage, my good clothes are there."

Another shower was necessary and she pulled me in. "You have to help my plan. I promised Cait she could watch, but I don't want that to be my first. You have to do the first one secretly, and the second one publicly."

She reached for my hardening cock and said, "Yes. This is what I have been waiting for. I watched you with Margo and it made me ever so wet." Her grin was bewitching.

"Aren't we making this too complicated? What if I bend you over right here..."

My fingers explored while she took a long minute thinking about it before flexing the marvelous torso and thrusting her bottom at me. "Yes."