Pidge’s Story

“You’re sure,” Mary asked Pidge, “you don’t mind if I don’t kiss you?”

Pidge shook her head no. “It’s Ben’s present. We’re both here for him. The point is that he has a good time.”

“Oh,” said Mary. “What if he wants us to–you know?”

Pidge smiled. “You politely avoid the issue by sucking his cock.”

Mary laughed. “Brent and I did it with Simon once but they were more interested in each other than in me.”

“Ben’s different.” Pidge said, tucking a lock of purple hair behind her ear as she checked the clock in the kitchen. It was 11:55. Ben was supposed to arrive at noon, but the bus from campus was notoriously unreliable. Pidge poured Mary another champagne-and-orange-juice to calm her down.

“He looks cute.” Mary shifted on the stool. “What about after?”

“After?”

“A threesome with another woman? It changes stuff. The relationship.” She took a sip of her drink. “You’re dumping him, right?”

Pidge sighed. “Yes.” It was 11:58.

“Will you quit looking at the clock already? You’re making me nervous. If he’s so great, why are you dumping him?”

Because, thought Pidge. Because you’re his age and I’m not. Because his enthusiasm will drive me mad. Because I’ve had fun teaching him about sex, but now he expects every day to be exotic, erotic, and marvelous. Because I don’t want to invest the time to remake his image of me, she thought, and hated herself for it. Because I close my eyes when I come, which means it’s still a private thing, not to be shared with him. “Because it’s time to be alone for a while,” she told her friend, knowing that was an acceptable answer.

“Oh,” said Mary. She sipped again from her champagne glass. Pidge knew she would be fine once Ben arrived. Pidge knew that Ben would treat her well. And that was another because: because Ben held no more surprises for her. She knew what to expect from him, and from Mary. She knew they would be fine together.

There was a knock at the door. It was exactly noon. Pidge touched her hair again — it had been purple only for a week — and opened the door.

Ben stood there, neatly dressed in a sport shirt and gray slacks. His brown hair was still damp from showering. Pidge noticed he had an erection; already, she thought, and smiled. This would be fun.

Ben looked disappointed when he saw Pidge was not alone. Pidge almost laughed but smothered it because a young man’s ego is a fragile thing. His erection was wilting. She stepped aside to let him into her tiny apartment and then said, “Ben, Mary. Mary, Ben. Champagne and orange juice, Ben?” Ben followed her through the kitchen into the bed-sitting-room.

“Uh,” said Ben, and then, “Yes, please,” and then, finally, clumsily, “It’s, uh, nice to meet you, Mary.”

Mary lifted her eyebrows and looked at Pidge.

“Are you disappointed to see me, Ben?” asked Mary. Her voice had dropped half a register and become husky. She stared at him over her champagne glass until he blushed and looked away. Her eyes were dark with gold flecks. She changed position on the stool to emphasize her large breasts.

“Close your mouth, dear,” said Pidge as she poured his drink. “Flies will get in.” Ben shut his mouth.

“I don’t mean disappointed to see me specifically, of course,” said Mary. “You don’t even know me. You would have been disappointed to see anybody, right, Ben?”

“No,” he said. “No, I just– I just–” He took the glass from Pidge. “Is this mine?”

Mary sighed heavily. “You wanted to be alone with our Pidge,” she said sadly.

“No,” Ben protested lamely, trying to smile. “I just wasn’t expecting… Look, I can come back later–” He took a deep draught from his glass.

“You’re squandering it,” said Pidge. “Drink it slowly.” She sat on the edge of the bed to watch. Ben was trying, but Mary had blindsided him and he wasn’t getting a chance to recover. While his attention was focused on Mary, Pidge permitted herself a tiny smile, ready to lose it if Ben looked her way. As she watched, she twisted her finger in the ribbon that tied her blouse.

“No, no, I understand. You wanted to be alone with Pidge, probably for some immoral purpose–“

“No, no–” Ben protested.

“Well, what’s wrong with you?” Mary demanded. “I’d do immoral things with Pidge. She’s quite attractive, if you like them tall and thin.” She frowned as though she’d thought of something shocking. “You’re not a breast man, are you?”

Ben stopped suddenly. “What?”

“Oh, Pidge, don’t tell me you were trying to convert another big boob man. You’re supposed to call me for those.” She said to Ben, “I’m her stunt tits.”

The women waited and there was a moment of silence before Ben laughed heartily. Pidge let herself laugh too, and Mary grinned.

“Happy birthday, Ben,” said Pidge, and they toasted him.

“Thank you. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen for a moment, there.”

“Neither was I,” said Mary. “Pidge assured me you’d be a gentleman, though.” She giggled. “‘I could come back later, though–‘”

I had faith in you, Ben.” Pidge leaned against one of the big silk cushions on the bed. “Turn over the coffee table.” The coffee table was a huge overturned enamel washtub she’d painted and stenciled, and which usually hid her dirty laundry.

“Ah,” said Ben. “My present is to sniff your used underwear.” He smiled. Pidge loved to see him smile. “I’m game.”

“If she’s not gamey,” said Mary.

“Even if,” said Ben.

Mary said to Pidge, “Oooh, he is chivalrous.”

When he turned over the washtub, half a dozen helium-inflated condoms floated to the ceiling, trailing crepe streamers. “Now we have a party atmosphere,” said Pidge. She smoothed the skirt around her legs and leaned on one elbow to look at him. “It’s time for you to unwrap your present.”

Ben looked at her and then at Mary, and then back at Pidge. Delicately he said, “I’m not sure where to begin.”

Pidge tugged at the bow on her blouse. “With the ribbon, of course.”

Ben sat in the crook between her thighs and her body, and touched the ribbon. Instead of pulling it, he gently kissed her mouth. They kissed again, with increasing hunger. On the next kiss, her tongue touched his and she pulled away. “Go on,” she said. He pulled on the ribbon. Her blouse fell open, exposing her small breasts. Ben gave each nipple a careful, damp kiss.

From beside him, Mary cleared her throat. When Ben looked up, her blouse was already off. Her large breasts were remarkably firm: Pidge thought of them as magazine breasts. Mary said, “Union rules. That’s to be done to the stunt tits.”

“All right,” said Ben, “but we may need several takes.” Pidge leaned back to watch. Evaporation made her nipples cool and erect. The sun through the sheer curtains was warmed her feet.

“All takes and no give,” said Mary to Pidge, “that’s the problem with these men,” but there was no anger in it.

Ben settled Mary on the stool beside the bed so he could reach both women. “Now,” he said, “I believe it went like this.” He kissed each of Mary’s fat brown nipples.

“No,” said Mary. “You took hers farther into your mouth.”

“Like this?”

“Mmmm. And I think I saw you bite them. Gently!” She closed her eyes as his teeth scraped across the surface of each nipple.

Pidge stroked her own swollen nipples as she watched Ben alternate between Mary’s breasts. Mary’s shoulders sagged as she finally relaxed. Ben’s slacks looked tourniquet-tight across the ridge of his erection. Pidge could feel the heat of his body through her skirt, against her thighs and crotch. Her pussy was already heavy, full and prickly-aware.

After a few minutes, she gently stroked the nape of his neck. He pulled away from Mary and glanced sheepishly at her as if to apologize. “Shh,” Pidge told him. “Nothing to be sorry for. It’s your birthday.” He leaned forward and gave her a full-throated kiss, his lips warm, soft and slippery.

Mary reached around him and unbuttoned his shirt. When his back was bare, she scratched her fingernails along his spine. He broke the kiss and arched his back, rubbing his head against Mary’s shoulder like a cat. Ben was always eager to be touched, anywhere.

“Excuse me,” said Pidge. “I believe you were busy.” She squeezed her breasts once to emphasize them.

“Sorry,” said Ben, grinning. He returned to her breasts, licking and sucking them as she had taught him. Her breasts were hard with passion and each flick of his tongue and each press of his fingers increased the heavy pressure in her pussy. She knew — and he knew — that she could come from this alone, a quick bright orgasm that would bring some relief but end nothing. Behind him, she saw Mary smiling, cupping her own breasts, and then Pidge closed her eyes as she came like the spasm of a copper spring released in the sunlight.

When she opened her eyes again, Ben was kneeling before Mary, holding her wrap-around skirt as Mary turned slowly, unveiling herself. It wasn’t fair, thought Pidge, that Mary’s breasts didn’t sag at all, or that her legs were sculpted by years of swim meets. And though she knew that Mary might have been designed from Ben’s adolescent fantasies, his obvious lust for her didn’t seem fair, either.

Now Mary’s bare hip was visible, now her muscular buttocks and the dimples flanking the base of her spine, now her other hip and smooth thigh, and finally the tightly-trimmed bar of brown pubic hair above her fleshy vulva. Ben dropped the skirt and slid his palms up the outsides of her legs, ankles to hips, his thumbs resting on the ridges of her hipbones. He kissed those ridges and then stood up, his hands still on her hips. Mary stood only as tall as his eyes. Pidge was taller.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but there are some things I like to know about a woman before I go too far.” With a pang, Pidge remembered him once saying something similar to her. It had been dark, and she’d ordered him into bed, this bed–

Mary looked up at him, her eyes half-closed. “Such as?”

Ben kissed her, and Pidge remembered that, too. That kiss had been a seduction by itself; it moved from delicious flirtation and promise to arousal and intimate knowledge. She watched Mary wrap her arms around Ben…and then Mary melted against him, thighs hips breasts and lips. Her nails raised red tracks as her hands slid loosely down his back until they reached his slacks.

Ben stepped back and Mary sighed gustily. She looked over at Pidge and nodded. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

Pidge said mildly, “Ben, I think she’ll need a moment to recover.” Then she grinned. “I’d like to help you with your fashion problem.”

Ben looked down and laughed. His gray slacks showed two damp stains, one small one at the end of his cock and a larger one on his thighs where Mary had pressed against him.

He crossed in front of Pidge. She leaned forward and touched her tongue-tip to the larger stain. “I like the way she tastes, Ben.”

Ben gently stroked her cheek. “Let me taste.” He bent to kiss her; as they kissed, she unfastened his slacks.

“Umm,” he said. “Very nice. Goes well with the taste of you, too–” Mary tugged down his slacks and underpants; there was the sound of his stiff cock slapping against his belly, he grabbed Pidge for support but she wasn’t expecting it, and he fell forward onto her as she rolled backward.

“Oh my god,” said Mary. “You okay?”

“I think so,” said Pidge.

Ben laughed into Pidge’s hip. “Oh, the elegance!” he said as he rolled over. He kicked his legs once; his legs were tangled in his slacks. His shoe heels thumped on the floor. Pidge smiled. Mary grinned sheepishly.

Ben took his erect cock in one hand and waggled it at them. “I hope it’s not broken.” He kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks and slacks. “I’m sorry, this is such a lovely gift, you’re both lovely,” Ben told them. “I want desperately to fuck you both, and to be worthy of your loveliness.” He shook his head. “But I don’t think I can be dainty about this.”

Pidge said, “You talk too much.” She pulled her skirt up about her waist and straddled his head.

“Yum,” he managed to say before she had adjusted herself over his mouth. Then he began to lick her, teasing her anus, sliding his tongue over the sensitive skin, then poking his tongue into her cunt. His nose brushed against her damp labia, tickling her.

Mary whispered into Pidge’s ear, “I like him.”

“Good,” said Pidge softly. Ben was gently stroking the length of her lips as he licked her. “Oh, good,” she said again, more loudly. She began to relax, to let the orgasm build, fluttering, in her belly.

Beneath her, Ben grunted once in surprise and his tongue stopped. Mary had taken his cockhead in her mouth. Pidge felt a momentary twinge of something — irritation? anger? — that Ben had been interrupted, but he kept on, now with one finger gently in her ass and his tongue flicking her clit. She began to roll her hips against Ben, encouraging him, timing it as if pumping a swing, building the orgasm. Mary’s head bobbed on Ben’s cock. It would be a shame, Pidge thought, if Ben came so soon, oh– She closed her eyes again, feeling it grow–

The bed shifted slightly and the rhythm changed slightly and her orgasm slipped away. Behind her, Mary was humming something. It was almost a tune, almost recognizable and finally in irritation Pidge had to abandon her orgasm to listen and watch, kneeling stock-still over Ben with her legs knotted beneath her.

Ben had stopped licking her, too; he had moved his hands near Mary’s head, as though wanting to guide her but afraid she would stop. Mary held nearly all of Ben’s cock in her mouth, and Pidge was vaguely envious that she could deep-throat it at that angle, for that long. Mary took the last inch of his cock into her throat, still humming.

The shaft of Ben’s cock shone as Mary pulled her head up. “–hmmmhmmmHMMMMhmmmhmmmhmmm–” She finally dropped it from her mouth to sing “–happy birthday to youuuuu!” Mary brushed at the string of saliva that connected her to Ben’s cock and grinned up at Pidge. Beneath Pidge, Ben laughed, gusting air on Pidge’s pussy, and Pidge suddenly remembered why they were there, and felt ashamed of her irritation.

Pidge grinned back and said, “You know you can’t sing.”

Ben poked Pidge’s ass with his tongue and then said, “She didn’t need to be on tune for that.” He clutched her thighs and sucked her clit hard, scraping the sensitive nub across his teeth. It was as sudden and unexpected as lightning, and she came with her eyes wide open, staring at Mary’s breasts. When she could move again, Pidge rolled off Ben, feeling shy, vulnerable, exposed. She hugged a pillow to her chest.

Beside her, Mary stroked Ben’s cock; it twitched at every touch, like a nervous horse. She looked at Pidge and said softly, “May I?” Ben groaned. Pidge nodded, still unable to speak. Mary lifted her hips and plunged down, greedily stuffing her cunt with Ben’s cock.

Pidge watched as Mary enthusiastically fucked him, her breasts bouncing. Mary grunted with every thrust; her grunts came closer, and the bed, Pidge’s bed, bounced faster until Mary moaned, and then Ben groaned himself and said, “Stop — unless you want to end this right here.”

Mary stopped moving. Her belly muscles twitched with unspent energies. “Um. No,” said Mary hoarsely.

Raw and naked, Pidge lay silently for a moment, looking at them. She had never come like that before. She had not planned for this. Both Mary and Ben were stretched tight, waiting. Waiting for orgasm. Waiting for Pidge to do something.

Then she made a cheerful voice and said, “Ben, you can’t leave her like this.” She laid one hand on the small of Mary’s back to brace her and reached around. She found the base of Ben’s cock and followed it until she had a finger on Mary’s clit, meaty and slick. She stroked it lightly, and that was all Mary needed. Mary threw her head back and shuddered as she came.

Ben moaned again. Pidge reached down between Mary’s legs and squeezed the base of his cock. “Not yet,” she said brightly. “I want some, too.”

“Too late,” he said.

“Too late?” she asked, surprised.

“Uh-huh,” said Ben. “Too late.” He grinned. “But I’m young. I’ll get over it.”

Mary leaned over and kissed Pidge on the mouth. “Thank you.” Pidge could smell Ben on her.

“Whoops,” said Ben as his softening cock fell from Mary.

“Let me clean that,” Pidge said. She took his soft cock in her mouth and cleaned it with her tongue. His come was sharp on the back of her throat. He tasted of Mary now.

She made a loud slurping noise, and Mary laughed. Ben was watching her thoughtfully. He cleared his throat and said, “Is anyone up for Chinese?”

“I love Chinese,” said Mary.

Ben grinned at her. “I thought you might. Pidge?”

“Nah,” said Pidge. “I just ate.” Mary laughed.

“Funny girl,” Ben said.

“I have to go to the toilet first,” said Mary as she got up. “Ooh, I’m all rubbery. I just don’t want to drip come all over my patent leather shoes again.”

“Again?” Ben asked.

“Yes, again,” she called from the bathroom.

Once the bathroom door was closed, Ben said to Pidge, “So this is the end, is it?”

She sagged. “How long have you known?”

He smiled sadly. “When we all got naked. I’ve felt it coming on since you coloured your hair.” He traced a finger along her ribs. Goosebumps followed in the path. She shivered. “You remember that night we talked until four and then you finally told me to get into bed?” She nodded — the first time they made love. “One of the things you said was that when you needed a change, you started from the outside in: hair, makeup, clothes.” He inhaled to say something else, then sighed heavily.

“If you knew, why didn’t you do something about it?” she asked.

“Do what?” he asked reasonably. “It takes two people to stay together. Otherwise one is just following.”

“But,” she began and then stopped. If he had tried something, anything– but maybe it wasn’t in him. Or maybe it wasn’t time for him.

“It must be difficult for you,” Ben was saying.

“What?”

“Reading people so well. Knowing what they’re going to do, how they’re going to react. You’ve surprised me through all of this, pleasantly, constantly. I’d hate to think I didn’t give some of that back to you.”

Despite herself, she felt tears welling up. “Sometimes,” she told him, “I don’t know anybody at all.”

He hugged her tight. “Shhh. You’ll be okay.” His skin was hot and damp against hers.

“I know,” Pidge said, “I will,” as they rocked together on the bed.

She knew herself that well, at least.

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