The Tableau That is Lisa
Chapter Five
Wendy and Kristin
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As always, all sexual activity described in this true story took place between adults aged 18 or older at the time the events occurred.
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For it is God who works in you, to will and to act, in order to fulfill his good purpose. -Philippians 2.13
We are our own saviors, as we start both our hearts beating life into each other... -Wond'ring Aloud, Ian Anderson
...
JUNE 1978
Wendy arrived in town having completed her first year at the U of T in Austin. Her grandparents lived here, so each summer her parents would drop her off for six weeks or so on their way to a 'private' vacation for two.
Previous incarnations of Wendy had been different. Everyone had been younger then and less mature. The first incarnations of Wendy had been fun playmates, skateboarding, riding bicycles, riding horses. The fun things children do in the summertime.
Then she had been a snooty little thing, the big city Albuquerque girl, way too good for small town folk. One summer she was all dressed in black, permanently moody. Then she got curves, lots of them, and spent six weeks making George and Punch, probably all the boys in town drool.
Last summer she and Punch had created six weeks of hell for George, although he was too polite to tell them to knock it off. All three had just graduated and were on top of the world. Well at least two of them were. George knew he was going to have to wait a year or two, for his siblings to have a shot at college too.
But Punch and Wendy, they were both just so excited about going to Austin. The U. They quickly became a couple. George was happy for his best friend and while he missed doing things with Punch, he wasn't about to rain on his parade.
That was the summer that George and Punch built the pool behind the garage. It was made from scrounged galvanized trough segments, a huge waterproof canvas, two sump pumps, a large wooden box, sand, reused pipe, hoses and other assorted repurposed items. But it worked.
The effort was worth it to George, his younger siblings had a place to play and splash in the Texas summer sun. It was doubly worth it to Punch. For while I did not know this until years later, while George was taking the kids to get ice cream, or to the movie, or to the Piggly Wiggly to get our favorites to cook later for dinner, that flame red bikini made of dental floss and four tiny triangles of fabric was being untied by Punch.
Then while the kids, Eva, Lillian, Jamie, Lisa, Ethan, Claire and Nate, were playing in the pool, Punch and Wendy were back in the house. In our absent parent's bedroom. Door locked. Engaged in some intense study for extra-credit summer school classes. Anatomy 101, Human Sexuality 311.
If Wendy had played the hand God dealt her, that full, I mean brick house, she could have had it all. A sweet, sensitive loving man with just enough edge to be really fun. But Wendy, at least that iteration of Wendy was about Wendy, not other people.
George really wanted to leave, to go on to one of the three top-tier programs that had accepted him. What nineteen year old boy wouldn't. But he had promised Mom and Dad that he would wait at least until his sister graduated from high school.
Wendy came back for the summer mildly surprised to find last summers lover Punch was now in love with Eva, and pretty much unaware that she existed. Sorta like the way Wendy had been unaware of what had happened to Punch when he wasn't back in school in January.
So, she latched onto George. Now George wasn't stupid, he had seen the way Wendy treated Punch. He had been her summer-time-lover. Good enough for a diversion while she was stuck here for six weeks. Good enough for a fuck now and again when nobody else was available or in the mood in Austin.
But she had not called Punch or done anything at all to inquire as to his condition when he just didn't come back for second semester. Then come June, she just showed up and expected Punch to be ready for her, well, because she was there. She was selfish, but not dishonest.
George was nineteen and horny, but he wasn't stupid. He accepted God's gift of six weeks of hot coed for what it was. But not for more than what it was. At least she wasn't playing at pretending to like him just to get him to marry her and take her away from town.
Wendy did not love George, she did not love Punch. But she never really said she did, outside of when they were inside of her. She loved what the boys could do for her, and to her. How they made her feel. How they would set her on the edge of the pool in the midday sun. Untie that skimpy little bikini. Like they were unwrapping a gift.
How they would kiss her breasts. Kiss her mound, and use their fingers to gently separate her delicate folds. To kiss, then lick, then lap her pussy. To love it's flavor and it's aroma. Playfully nibbling on her labia. Holding her hood betwixt two fingers and kissing her sensitive bud. Making it swell and leave it's hiding place.
Placing their finger in their mouth, or hers, then slowly pushing it into her vagina. One, then two, easing a third in, their thumb resting on her swollen clitoris and the pinky on her perineum. Slowly at first, finger fucking her while licking her pearl. Increasing speed, increasing intensity as she gets closer, closer to her first release. And ONE! There it is.
But one is never enough, and her lover doesn't cruelly stop at just one. At the poolside act two would be an encore. Inside on a nice soft mattress, her lover would be invited to enter her warm wet depths, to put his masculine weight on top of her voluptuous curves. To penetrate her with his member. Pushing deep, burrowing, stretching her blood engorged tissues, creating that oh, so, lovely friction, moving her feminine structures all about, and causing them to make twenty-three thousand little fireworks explode, sending their electrons along pathways to her brain.
Wendy loved what the boys could do for Wendy, how they could relieve her stress, spend their money on her, and show her a good time while she was stuck in "Erewhon", Nowhere.
George deserved better. Punch had already found it.
...
JUNE 1979
I had wanted to maneuver Jamie and George together, so that we could stay together forever. But right now, Jamie just wasn't up to the concept of having a child, and did not think she would ever be. George loved fucking his sisters, but also made it clear that one day he wanted to be a dad. All I had to do was find him a wife who was cool with him also fucking Jamie and me and who wanted children.
I truly wanted George to be happy, it was simple logic really. George wanted to be a dad someday. Neither I nor Jamie could do that for him. We needed another sister, one that was alright with sharing, to help us keep all of the other future Wendys away. Kristin had walked with Eva last May. I had an idea that she might be perfect for that role. Painfully shy, she was smitten with George and as she said, "creamed her jeans" whenever he spoke to her.
Her mother was a professional cook, and a good one. Food was an important part of her life. Kristin was beautiful but did not think she was. She was full of curves and voluptuous in the way ancient people imagined their fertility goddesses to be.
She hadn't left town after school, she was working on a JC degree in early childhood education at the annex. So I struck up conversations with her when I could without it looking forced. We talked about her loving kids, they weren't as messed up as adults, yet. Her wishing she might have her own someday, but not really seeing that in her future. When we briefly talked about George, she gushed, you might have thought he walked on water.
Over time we became quite close, I was her first 'real' friend it seemed. It wasn't altruistic, but I never lied to her. I really got to like her. She talked about growing up afraid of other people. Food, first eating, then preparing it, was her crutch, her salvation. She told me how she first discovered the vertical folds under the horizontal folds of her belly. How happy she was discovering what they could do. Then how sad she was when she realized nobody else was interested in exploring them.
I wanted to cry, she felt so alone, so unworthy. The groping little boys that annoyed me in high school ignored her Their selfish clumsy scheming antics had annoyed Jamie. But how much worse must it have been to have been ignored. Too shy to put herself into the fray, just silently hoping somebody might notice her. Nineteen, almost twenty, and she'd never really been kissed, touched, or out on a real date.
So we went shopping, no shopping doesn't cure everything. Although you can't return an hour of psychotherapy tomorrow even if you have a receipt and it still has the tags on it. You can do that with most dresses. It was tactical shopping, buying clothes my brother would like for her. Then I conferred with my co-conspirator, Jamie. It was on, D minus eighteen and counting.
