PFK1 (37 page)

I expect Jill had some idea of how much her talk aroused me. I am

also sure she was being sincere, because she repeated it several times

over the next two days, even when we weren’t doing it.

The first shot of cum that burst from the tip of my cock nearly took

my head off, on account of the electrifying spasm that accompanied it.

The rest of my climax wasn’t as intense, just nearly so. We made

quite a bit of noise, I’m afraid.

Doing it so enjoyably that first time broke the ice between us.

Afterwards, we drank wine and ate sandwiches and listened to music.

We smoked some of Jill’s excellent dope and laughed a lot, about

people and politics, mostly.

We talked very freely about what we had been up to since she

wrote me that letter terminating our relationship.

"I also want you to know that I realize now that you weren’t taking

any pleasure in telling me about Ann Kozlowski," Jill said, as she

poured me a third glass of white wine.

"I thought you would be better off hearing it from me than from

somebody else," I answered. "I never liked Jim, but I had nothing

against his poor wife."

"The woman Jim left Ann for is a real bitch, in my opinion," Jill

said. "One of those women who doesn’t care what happens to others,

as long as she gets what she wants."

"A common type," I agreed, pinching Jill on her bare rump.

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Jill gave me a perplexed look at first, until a smile slowly spread

across her face and she laughed.

What else?

On Saturday morning, we took a shower together. Although we

had just finished doing it again before getting out of bed, by the time

we were done with our hair, I had another stiffy.

I soaped Jill’s crotch and stood behind her under the warm spray,

reaching around to rub her clit and fondle her breasts. My cock

nestled in the divide of her butt cheeks, sliding up and down, lubed by

the soap. Again and again the head passed over the wrinkle of her

anus. At one point I let it rest at center, pushing it partway in.

"Oh Patrick, what are you doing?" Jill, asked, her voice thick with

passion.

"Nothing," I answered, pushing it in a bit more.

"Ooooohhh ... Ooooohhh..."

Jill did not resist, but I pulled it out all the same, making a mental

note to fuck her anally at some point. I wondered if some other guy

has fucked her there during the time we’ve been apart. I think the

answer is maybe yes.

Well, it doesn’t matter. In the course of the weekend, Jill was

incredibly passionate, had countless orgasms, and seemed really into

it. Following our shower on Saturday morning, we lounged around

her apartment, reading the paper and listening to a blues program on

KZEL.

For breakfast, we had scrambled eggs, (which I cooked) toast with

grape jam, and coffee.

Then we got stoned, taking big bong hits and began making out

again as soon as we were high. Things seemed just like they were two

years ago when we were seeing each other, except now we both have

changed.

Jill has gotten much better and I have gotten much worse.

Jill said that I should transfer to Eugene so we could move in

together. The Feds recently made the railroads open their cushy jobs

up to women and she nabbed one. Now she works fewer hours and

makes more money than I do. She says most of the good old boy

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railroaders are lazy overpaid jerks, which I can easily believe. I have

no illusions about men.

Jill told me she has never known a man even remotely like me.

Now she wishes she had never let me go, she said. She also

apologized for getting angry when I refused to go to the nudist camp

with her and said she no longer goes there herself anymore because of

all the creeps. She wants to make amends and wants me back in her

life.

While we were sitting on the sofa, Jill did something she has never

done before. I was right next to her while we were talking and

suddenly Jill dropped down on her knees between my legs and started

sucking my cock. Immediately I got hard as a rock and felt totally

turned on.

"Let it spurt in my mouth," she told me after a while. "I want to

drink your cum."

I happily agreed to her request, greatly enjoying the way Jill took it

down as I let go. I only mention it because it surprised me. Before

that moment, Jill had always refused to let me cum in her mouth. In

the old days, she was always more than happy to have me go down on

her but never reciprocated with anything more than a perfunctory

sucking.

I think Jill is saying something by letting me cum in her mouth.

Her previous reservations about me appear to have vanished for good.

On Saturday night we went to see a movie –
Invasion of the Body

Snatchers
, at the Springfield Mall. My idea. Jill hated it because it

was so scary and barely peeked out from under her coat once or twice.

Her hand, meanwhile, was on my lap, gently groping me from time

to time. I kept telling her that the movie reminded me of DemoRat

Party politics but she paid hardly any attention.

Nevertheless, I found the new version of
Snatchers
pretty

interesting. The special effects were good and the story follows the

1950s classic closely. However, it ended on a sour note and Leonard

Nimoy was totally wasted as the psychiatrist. At best, I’d give it a B

minus.

238

Jill made a dish of lasagna for our late supper that tasted quite

delicious. She said it was a variation on the recipe I gave her back in

1976. More vegetables, and only a sprinkling of Italian sausage. We

bickered mildly about how the ingredients should be arranged in the

dish. She let me win for a change.

Then came Sunday morning. We made love again right after we

woke up – a rough, sweaty workout. Felt really good when we came

at exactly the same time. I noticed that we left behind a wet spot on

her sheet about the size of Rhode Island. Jill says she is going to let a

couple days go by before she changes the linen because she likes my

scent.

"I love sleeping with you, Patrick," she said.

What have I suddenly gotten myself into?

Jill says she wants to be my slave in bed. Anything I want her to do

from now on, she wants to do. As long as I have a big cock and stay

four inches taller than she is, she says she will always obey my every

sexual whim and command, no matter how weird or kinky.

I told her I would get back to her on that. However, I must admit

that I am impressed with her new attitude.

Where was all this two years ago?

On Sunday morning, we showered together, got dressed, and

enjoyed a tasty hot breakfast. I kissed her goodbye and left for home,

but not before she extracted a promise from me that I would invite her

to the beach for a weekend visit soon.

Very soon.

I got in the VW and drove to the Koobdooga bookstore, en route to

home. That’s where I ran into Megan.

We had an extremely enigmatic conversation. Megan said she had

been by to see me at Rand’s on Friday and Saturday nights and

wondered where I had gone.

I told her where I went was my business, just like where she goes is

her business. I was really annoyed with her for finding me, although I

did my best to hide it.

239

She wanted to question me some more about what I had been doing

but I cut her off and said I was going home. She stood in the spot

where I left her for a long time after I walked away.

I am playing with fire but I really don’t give a good goddamn.

Megan doesn’t know what the hell she wants. Is this the same woman

who told me less than a month ago it was over for good between us?

Who said her husband was permanently back in the picture?

Apparently she is, or was, or something like that.

Returning to Mark was a lapse, she says now, a mistake. She can’t

explain it. Well, I can explain it perfectly. She’s fickle and faithless,

just like the others. That is the explanation. First, she was all set to

leave town and dump me. Then suddenly it was no go. Now she says

oops it was all just "a lapse."

And how am I expected to deal with these lightning shifts? I am

supposed to be all happy and welcome her back like a puppy dog

because she is split with said husband once again. Sorry, no can do. I

don’t appreciate no fucking lapses.

I am not happy with Megan. I am furious with her.

The thing is, I just don’t get it. With women, if you refuse to do

what they say they want you to do, they will use that as an excuse to

reject you. On the other hand, if you comply with what they say they

want you to do, they will also use that as an excuse to reject you.

Either way you lose.

Along with that, women retain the right to change their minds at

any time and still expect you to remain at their beck and call. Am I

wrong to resent this state of affairs? I think not.

Arrived home without incident. Nick left a note saying he would

be spending the night with his new girlfriend Eleanor.

I had a light meal, a beer and a cigarette. My first Marlboro in a

week. About 7:00 PM, Mary Wong showed up. She wanted to know

if Nick needed any posters made for the poetry reading. I was sitting

on the sofa listening to B. B. King and writing some longhand notes

for
The Dark City
.

I put them away and talked with Mary for a while. People came

and went, most of them asking questions about the poetry reading

240

Nick is sponsoring at the Kyle Building. Everybody wants in on the

action for some reason. It’s shaping up to be the social event of the

season around here.

Having a little time on our hands, Mary and I went upstairs and did

it. Then we came back downstairs and got really stoned. We went

back upstairs a while later and did it again.

Mary likes doing it and has a slender, very elastic little bod. Tiny

little tits but with these big, dark nipples. Between her legs she is very

tight and gets very wet. Practically hairless, though. Took a bit of

getting used to after Jill’s dense brown bush. At first Mary was afraid

I was going to be too big for her pussy but once we got rolling, my

size was not a problem.

The last time we did it was around 5:00 AM. I told her I was too

tired to cum but she insisted on sucking my cock and got it out of me

anyway. Mary is very adept at oral sex, much more so than Jill at this

point.

I liked the way Mary sucked it, bent over on her hands and knees in

front of me. She took it all the way down, deep throat style, gently

cupping my balls in her hands. When I came, she hung on to the head

with her teeth while she sucked like mad, and swallowed. Excellent

technique.

Before she left, I gave Mary my old typewriter, the black

Remington. Mary is very poor. The machine was given to me four

years ago as a present from the woman I now call the other one. I had

it tuned up in Portland in 1977 and now it works like a charm. Bam

bam bam.

The print is clear, crisp, and dark when it has a fresh ribbon, which

it has right now.

I remember the typewriter repair guy offered me $35 for it. He told

me it was an antique. I turned him down. That was when I still had

hopes about getting back together with the other one. Now I can’t

stand looking at it and prefer using my newer Olivetti.

Nick is going to be pissed because he’s had his eye on it for some

time but that’s too bad. It’s my goddamn typewriter and I’ll do

241

whatever I fucking well please with it. Last August, I almost pitched

it in the Siuslaw River.

Back to work tomorrow. I didn’t go in today because the state

celebrates the birthday of Abraham Lincoln. Good old Honest Abe.

They don’t make politicians like him anymore.

I have to be around Megan all day tomorrow, goddammit. I know I

am in love with her but I question whether she is in love with me.

The way I see it, I am likely one of those transitional romances

women go through when they exit a long-term relationship. That’s

not good enough for me because I am serious. And I absolutely refuse

to play the fool again.

Meanwhile, it is extremely unfair of me to be seeing Jill, because

we have no future together. As far as I am concerned, she has taken

herself out of the running permanently. Although I tried to talk her

out of it, she went ahead and had a tubal ligation and is therefore