Roomers Revisited

The explanation / justification for my having the nerve to write a sequel to 'Roomers' is summarized at the beginning of Ch. 01. I hope I've slipped in enough back-story so that you don't have to have read the first series to enjoy this follow-up. On the other hand, if you're a 'Roomers' virgin, it would certainly help to scroll through it quickly.

Two points: remember to vote and remember I respond to non-anonymous feedback.

*

Well, shit. Spring break round the corner and no-one lined up. I dug my toes into the sheepskin rug and stared out of my bay window, feeling kinda pissed. Said it before: downside of being a slacker is you tend to let things drift. I could hear the kids upstairs, voices cheerful as they made their plans. I stomped into the kitchen and opened another beer. I'd been putting in gym time, reading kinda serious, but... not enough, seemed like. Mebbe I hadn't been wanting hard enough. My ability sure hadn't thought to get off its ass. I took a swig and forced myself to calm down. Hell, you play the hand you got. Mebbe I'd go out later, see if I could find me a short term friend. I was wondering where to start when the phone rang.

'Yeah?'

'Doug? Doug Taylor?' The room seemed to spin for a second.

'Annie?' Hesitant laugh down the line

'Jeez, Doug, I'm sure glad you still got the same number.'

'Annie, where the fuck are you?' Pause, then gabbling.

'Idaho. Doug, I never asked you for anything in my life, but what I need is outa here. Can you wire me some money?' Her voice quivered. 'There ain't another soul in the goddam world I can ask.' Now I ain't one for throwing money about, but shit, she sounded kinda desperate; tell the truth, I always been sorta grateful about what she done for me, and I'd sure missed her some. For a skinny little hippy she sure had her good points, and she sounded in real bad shape. Philosophical Doug.

'Sure, Annie. You better promise to come down here though, lemme take a look at you.' Well, hell, she was so grateful, send it to Western Union, stuff like that, sounded like she was almost crying.

'Doug, I gotta go now. Send that goddam money soon as you...' She hung up in a hurry and I was listening to that long distance hiss you get on an empty line. I turned on the laptop, sent a thousand bucks to the office she'd told me, some hick town a hundred miles outa Boise, wondered if I'd ever see it again. I realized my goddam beer was flatter than Kansas and went to look for a replacement.

The replacement slipped down real easy and a two hit bong as well, and I was laying on the sofa wondering what coulda fuckin' happened. Hell, last time I seen her she was marrying ol' Ray, moving to Idaho to raise kids, live happy ever after. And she'd said "tickets". Definitely plural. The grass was hitting me and I closed my eyes so's I could think a little better. Knock on the door. If it ain't one thing it's a goddam 'nother.

'Door's open.' I heard it open and close. Whiff of scent. 'Hi, Kirsty, Whaddya need?' Cautious Doug. Thanksgiving had been a bummer. Sure, Tanya was a knockout, but a fifteen year old knockout might as well be on Mars, far as I'm concerned, and making moves on her big sister while she was in the house seemed like way too much effort. Fuckin' ability was jerking my chain, I decided. Sure, I invited them to turkey and pie, but putting up with goddam High School prattle, trying not to think about what I could have been doing, I guess I wasn't much of a host. Kirsty hadn't said much since, and I'd kinda let it slide. I was finding fresh every so often, Chrissie visited a coupla weekends, so it ain't as if I was crawling up walls or nothing.

'Are you OK, Doug?' Slightly stoned was probably outside her orbit.

'Just dozin', Kirsty, wonderin' what to do. Whyntcha siddown, tell me what's on your mind.' She sank into a chair, nervous kitten look front and center.

'I need to apologize,' she said solemnly. I opened an eye.

'Real noble of you, girl, but you're gonna hafta remind me why.' Well, she started to explain how mean she'd been, leading me on and using me, and how I hadn't said anything, but she knew I was upset, and she knew it was because of her, and I was so kind and nice, and she'd wanted to say sorry, but she didn't know how to, and she really didn't want to offend me, and... I put my hand up and she stopped. Fuckin' relief too. Small click. Hadn't expected that.

'Kirsty, you gotta stop thinkin' everything's your goddam fault. Jeez, girl, I'd realized smackin' that blonde bitch down good was all you wanted, hadn't misunderstood you, that woulda been cool too. So forget it, or I'll throw your ass out on the street. Landlord's promise. You wanna beer, coke, anything?' I started to haul myself upright but she jumped up.

'I can find stuff.' I listened to faint sounds from the kitchen, hoped she wasn't nosing about too much. She came back with the whole ball of wax: tray, bottles, glasses, napkins, potato chips, set everything on the table.

'Can I tell you something?' A woman says that, best not to argue. I hoped all this was leading somewhere, or it woulda been a good nap ruined.

'Sure, kid, go ahead.' That goddam red tide started in her cheeks, rolled down her neck.

'Uh, actually, getting even with Sonia wasn't really all I wanted.' I didn't react to that so she started explaining. 'You see, I hadn't thought about Tanya being so young, and that was dumb of me: I should have known you'd be responsible about that sort of thing, because you're that sort of person. And then when she'd gone and I wanted to talk to you some more you always seemed to be busy, and I had so much work, and it was hard to concentrate because...' Her voice trailed away. What the fuck? Time for a little push.

'Why was it hard to concentrate, kid?' Interested Doug.

'Well, one thing was that people started inviting me to parties, boys mostly, and asking for dates and everything. That's never happened to me before, so I said yes to most of them, because that was what I'd wanted.' She stopped and looked at me carefully. 'I let them kiss me sometimes, but when they wanted to do more I told them that I was in a relationship already and some of them were OK about it and some of them were real mean but I didn't care. And I really do have a lot of work, and oh, yes, Sonia keeps asking me about you, and trying to be friendly, and that's such a good feeling, her wanting to know my secret I mean...' She was wanting me to help her along I guess, but a head full of grass ain't the best foundation. Jeez, how she did talk. Beautiful voice or no, more than a semester would drive me clean outa my skull. She took a deep breath and started over.

'Uh, you have a lot of girlfriends, don't you, Doug?' Hell, not that question again.

'Nope. I got friends who are women, and I spend private time with some of them. Not all of them, and not always, and I don't talk about them none. Not ever. You probably seen one of them, blonde girl, well dressed, comes for the weekend sometimes, only four or five times a year I guess, but we're friends all the way.' I stopped and waited. She was thinking. You're smart, one of the things you make sure you learn at college is how to think about stuff clearly. Long as it ain't Liberty fuckin' University of course, but that's a different planet. 'And what's this stuff about bein' in a relationship, kid? Or you just say that to cool the frat rats down some?' She looked at me real nervous.

'I guess. I mean, everyone thinks I'm having an affair, so I can say that and I don't have to...' I swear I never seen anyone blush so hard. Looked like she was ready to explode.

'Don't hafta what, girl? Jeez, you're makin' my head spin, dartin' about, one thing an' then another.' I struggled upright and popped a beer, took a long swallow. She was sitting quiet, staring at her hands. When I put the bottle down she looked up, kinda desperate.

'So I don't have to do things I don't know about and have everyone laughing at me again, and feeling stupid, and you're the only person who's ever not laughed at me, and...' She paused, then swallowed hard, sounded like the words were being forced out of her. 'I was imagining spending private time with you and sorta finding things out and having someone explain without making me feel dumb.' Way to go, Kirsty. Ability doesn't give a rat's ass for anyone except me and it's finally pushed you to make the first move. Don't worry, kid, you're in good company. Patty, Kelly, Hazel, the others: they were all taken the same: Kelly was the only one had a real bad time though, and that wasn't intended. I put my hand up, self-defense mostly. Teaching her to shut up would be high on my goddam list.

'Kirsty, lemme get this straight. You feel that you don't have much, uh, experience, and you've decided I'm the person you want to, uh, show you the ropes, is that right?' Bashful Doug. Silence, thank God, but she nodded. 'Well, shit, girl, um, I mean, what exactly is it that you don't...' She interrupted me, still blushing fit to bust.

'Everything. I've kissed people, but I can't even do that without bumping noses, and they always want to touch me, and I've read books and watched some films on the internet, but those were so gross, and I guess they're faked mostly, like everything on TV is.' She looked at her hands again. 'I've tried and tried, but I just don't understand.'

'Hell, girl, that kinda stuff, it's like playing the piano.' She didn't understand that either.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean, you can study music theory for years, pass all the exams, but you still won't be able to play symphonies and stuff less you practice as well, willya?' Keyboard Doug. It was out now, laying on the table between us, but she looked like nervous was still arguing with determined. Time to soothe her a little. Click. Well, there's a bonus.

'Kirsty, lemme guess: you've kept Spring Break clear, but now you're wonderin' if it's such a good idea. That right?' She didn't say anything, just nodded. I patted the couch next to me. 'OK, I ain't gonna hit on you, push you none, but if you get your ass over here we can talk comfortable, no more of this glancing up an' down.' I waited. After mebbe ten seconds she got up and moved across. I put a hand up, pulled her down gently, draped an arm over her shoulder, nowhere near anything sensitive. She tensed at my touch, but when I didn't move she leaned into me some.

'How come you're always right about how I feel?' Almost plaintive.

'I been thinkin' about you a lot, kid, but I don't know everything. You wanna tell me a little about who Kirsty really is?' You need a woman to relax, ask her to talk about herself; I gotta say, when she wasn't gabbling her voice was real nice to listen to. Usual story though. Parents fucked up their own relationship, felt badly about it, tried to protect their kids from going down the same route. Damn fools chose the church to help though, and so the God Squad got ahold of her, filled her head full of crap, persuaded her to wear one of those goddam rings. Result? She escaped, sure, but paralyzed, not knowing where to start, real unhappy about herself. Still, she'd squeezed my ass back in the tavern, so she wasn't a totally lost cause. No point in hurrying though.

'OK, girl, you go 'way now, think this through. You wanna cancel, fine, I won't say nothing. You wanna carry on, you be ready to get taken out for dinner tomorrow, like a proper date. We'll take it from there an' you call the shots. You wanna stop, take notes, run away screaming, that's OK too. Point about physical stuff, it's meant to be fun. It ever feels like a chore, you're with the wrong person or it's time to move on. That work for you?' She never said a word, just got up and left. Her back view looked kinda perky though, so I guess I said the right stuff. Better to be lucky than rich, but if you can manage both, that's prime time. And she sure did remind me of Ellen. I went to the window, took up position on the rug, wondered if she'd be the same in the sack. Couldn't make up my mind if I wanted that or not. Memories are memories, and you try to turn them into fuckin' roadmaps you're heading for trouble. Don't mean you can't take them out and look at them once in a while though.

******

That time between Thanksgiving and Christmas had been kinda difficult. Ellen and Candice making plans, searching out job openings, thinking visiting schedules so they didn't miss each other. Shit, wrapped up in love's young dream is where they were, and I didn't much want to butt in. When Ellen did spend down time with me she wasted a lot of it telling me what they'd decided, how they were gonna do stuff, all the crap I could care less about. Didn't tell her that though. When Candice started getting interviews they both went into a goddam frenzy and I pulled back, left them to it.

Christmas came and went, everyone kinda subdued, and then it was time for Ellen to go take up her new post. Damn, that was a sweet and sour weekend. We had one final night together, real intense, made me feel for a while that it was almost more than friends. That was sweet. But I kinda knew that she was doing it for me. They had the idea that they were moving on and I was stuck in my same ol' rut. Hell, I chose this goddam rut because I like it, don't take too kindly to being babied either. Didn't tell them that though. Too sour. Ellen wanted to say goodbye in style so I just made sure she was gonna miss one part of me at least.

Ellen gone, Candice took to spending her evenings polishing her dissertation, weekends up in Boston, time with me when she remembered. Not very dam' often though, so I started looking around. Shit, I'd had nearly a coupla years taking it easy, was carrying ten pounds too much and my mind was a swamp, so I decided to fix that, see what happened. Guys down the gym were sorta sarcastic at first, but so what? I started working out and the weight redistributed itself and they shut up real quick. Started reading serious too: talked to one of my old professors, made like I was finally wondering about a doctorate, could he suggest a program to clear away the cobwebs, maybe a theme I'd never touched on before? I thought he was gonna come in his pants he was so pleased, gave me a list of books, told me to call him any time. I thanked him, went home and logged onto Amazon, set myself thinking about getting some trouble free regular that wasn't gonna interfere with my lifestyle.

(For info about how Doug's erratic talent manifests itself, you should read the original 'Roomers'. Suffice to say that he usually gets what he wants, but not always the way he wants it.)

Thursday afternoon, three or four weeks into the new routine I was reading, sipping beer, feeling kinda good. Definitely sharper, ready to see what life threw at me. My cell chirped: FRIDAY EVENING, TENSION TO BURN, CHRISSIE XXX.

That cheered me up for sure. Working out someone's tension was just what I fuckin' deserved. Ran round some the next day, changed the sheets, stocked up with her favorite wine, booked a late dinner at Tony's Casa Italiana, trimmed myself down below, all the stuff you do when you're planning quality time. Gave myself a little siesta too. Fact is, I was still on the couch when the doorbell rang.

I'd hardly got the dam' door open when she was in my arms, hanging on tight, nuzzling my neck. I worked one hand free, picked up her bag, her still mumbling and nibbling. Kicked the door shut with my foot, dropped the bag and staggered through to the bedroom. Lowered her onto the bed and she squirmed onto her back, pulled her skirt up. Shit, no underwear, just a sweet looking, damp looking pussy. Her legs parted and she tilted her hips.

'I took them off in the car,' she muttered, 'and what are you waiting for?' Hell, a friend in need and all that bullshit. I didn't wait, just dropped my pants and climbed on board. She didn't fuck about: reached down and grabbed me, pushed up till I was right at the gates, then clutched my ass with the other hand and heaved. I slid into her wet grasp like a key into a lock and she inhaled sharply and went to work. I just hung in there, tried not to get thrown clear. Guessed I'd find out later what it was all about, but meanwhile a good friend oughta be helping her along, so I opened her jacket, began to nip her breasts the way she liked. Squeals as my teeth closed over one rock solid nipple, but her pelvis redoubled its dance and when I moved to the other one and chewed on that she lost it. Fact is, I don't think I coulda come if I'd wanted to, so I rode it out, letting her find her own way up and then down. After forever her muscles slackened and she sank down, breath whistling in her throat, eyes fluttering.

'Jesus, Doug, I needed that, but this skirt wrinkles real bad. Don't you dare go anywhere.' I managed to roll off her, shucked my T-shirt and pants while I had time. Guessed she'd wanna mouthful of cock, ride the tongue some, then slow and gentle before dinner. Her usual routine, and a dam' good one too.

'Jeez, girl, how long you been savin' that up?' She'd come back from the bathroom naked, crawled into the crook of my arm. She turned her head and licked my ear.

'You are the only guy I ever met who never disappoints. I been holding that thought for two weeks and getting hot enough to fry eggs. It's all been so difficult.' Well, I made like Tar Baby, said nuth'n, let it spill out at its own speed. Turned out she'd been seeing some guy, fallen for him hard, thought about it carefully, was all set to live happy ever after. Normal enough, except one day she found him with a vibrator up his ass and a very gay magazine in his free hand. She was kinda turned off, gave him back the ring, flushed it down the john she said, and they shouted some and she split. Taken her a while to calm down, and when she did she needed a friend.

'And that's you,' she murmured, rolling out of my arms and down to my crotch. 'Because you do friend better than anyone.' My cock was at half staff and she ran her tongue along the length of it. 'And you never come the first time. Are you like that with the others?' I looked at her kinda stern and she made a face. 'Can't blame a girl for being curious.' After that she shut up, concentrated on the job in hand.

I gotta admit, Chrissie ain't the best head I ever had, but on the other hand she sure enjoyed the work. Always kept one hand for herself, touching her tits, rubbing her clit, getting herself ready for the next round I guess, and knowing what she was getting ready for always got me eager. Swallowed good too, and when the beautiful liquid glow spread through my groin and she felt my balls tighten, she pulled back a little, kept her lips clamped tight over the crown, looked up at me with her eyes sparkling and ran her tongue round the head. That did it, and as my body stiffened she milked me good, making sure she got a healthy mouthful, then swallowed luxuriously and suckled me gently, trying for the last drops.

'Yum. Now tell me what I want next.'

'Shit, Chrissie, nice cool drink, watch a little TV maybe? Me, I'm gonna roll over, go to sleep soon as my heart rate steadies.' I closed my eyes and relaxed, waiting, felt her squirming up against me.

'Please, Mister, please, I been a good girl, honest, I done everything right. Please, Mister, don't be mean.' There was laughter in her voice; hadn't been a lot of that lately and I felt a wave of warmth towards her.

'Crawl on board, Missy, and settle yourself. Sure don't want you gettin' no attitude problem.' Corny shit, and kinda embarrassing, but people do weird things in bed when they know each other well, and Chrissie and me, we went back a ways. She scooted up my body and kneeled over my face, hands braced against the wall. I made like a flight controller. 'Right..., right..., stop..., back a little..., stop..., OK drop your wheels.' She sank onto me, her clit rubbing my nose, her pussy fitting neatly over my lips.