You Can't Go Home Again

"It's one of those air beds, and you'll be in the living room."

"Hey, I sleep in a storage room at home. No sweat." He thanked Jip, and said he'd be around at eight or so.

On the way home, Don suddenly remembered that he had noticed how screwed up it was, as soon as he'd gotten home from California. But he'd lost the sense that anything was wrong, somewhere along the way.

He decided to just stay away from home altogether. He went downtown instead of up the hill toward the house, and sat down in a diner. Coffee and an open-faced turkey sandwich, gravy on the fries. Good for whay ails you.

He sipped the coffee, but the food left him cold, he just couldn't face the food at all. He felt sweaty and chilled, worse than in the doc's office. He was sniffling, his muscles were achy.

What now? Was he just coming down with something? I just can't even think about eating. I gotta take a shit, then I'll call home. But he threw up the coffee. He was wretched and angry as well.

"Where have you been, Don?" his father asked. "Beverly's worried."

"Hamoudi's, downtown." Did you eat well? Au contraire! he joked to himself. "I'm gonna stay at a friend's house tonight, one of the guys I work with."

"Great, Don!" Gil was hearty and warmly approving of the idea. Don heard Bev's voice: What's up? And then the instrument was covered. There was about thirty seconds of muffled talk, Beverly and his Dad, then he was on the line with the home health aide who ran the household.

"Don, you won't be home at all tonight?"

"I have to get a change of clothes and my toothbrush and shit, but then I'm off again--"

"All right." With that noncommittal noise, she hung up.

"Whatever," Don told himself irritably. He paid at the register and drove moodily up the hill. He felt restless and dissatisfied. He still ached everywhere, too.

If something was poisoning people at the house, fuck 'em! They'd been at it for months, they could damn' well do another night of it. If the urine and blood showed something, he'd tell everyone, but without specifics, he'd just get into some dumb argument with his Dad.

What an asshole, what a cunthead his dad was! That hasn't changed. He's always been a cast iron prick to live with. He's just a different kind of a cunthead now. "I hope the asshole loses more brain cells to whatever the fuck this is," he said. He was nervous and irritable, and still sweating! He wanted the night to be over already.

He came in the back door, by the kitchen. His Dad was drinking milk and scoping out Beverly's buns while she did the pots in the sink. "Don," his Dad acknowledged him. The television and the hissing of oxygen were audible from the next room.

"Hi, Dad. Need the truck tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll drive you over there. This guy works with you?" They made arrangements.

"Don?" came the quaver from the other room.

"Mom! You awake?"

He broke off to greet his mother, kiss her brow, and exchange declarations of love. She looked as bad as ever, it was like a plateau had been reached of wretched sameness. She let him go and he went up the kitchen stairs, fighting an impulse to weep.

He hurt all over. The pains distracted him enough so he didn't hear much of his father's cheery, satisfied talk on the way to Haskell's place. He stared out the truck window and felt a hopeless gloom about everything in general. His belly roiled, the whole thing sucked out loud!

"Christ, you're moody tonight, Don," his father said when he was stepping out in front of the apartment house on Cedar Street.

"Sorry, I just feel crappy."

"You and Bev didn't have a fight or anything?"

"No, we never do, it's not like that." And of course it wasn't like that, it was a business arrangement. And recreation! But they didn't have lovers' quarrels because they didn't care about each other enough. His father told him goodbye and drove away.

Beverly, meanwhile, woke Penny long enough to get her to the bathroom, removed her tampon and pad and let her pee, brushed her hair and teeth, and assisted her to her bed. By the bed was another tall green tube of oxygen. She medicated her, and peeled her clothes off. The woman was already asleep. She flipped her onto her belly on the bed, moisturized the wasted buns against bedsore ulcers, and put on her underwear and pad for overnight.

"This one is nearly done, she won't need much tomorrow. She's losing lots of weight. I'll ease up the meds so she can eat more for a week or two," Bev decided.

Penny's breathing became labored due to her position. Beverly pulled and flipped her over again, then sat her up in the recliner and rolled a nightgown onto her thin body, disconnecting the mask to do it. Fuzzy socks over the compression stockings, a warm comforter, reconnect and adjust the mask. Moisturize lips and nose, moisturize elbows, set the chair back partway, turn down the lighting.

Beverly stepped back and surveyed her work. "Okay, my turn."

She took off her top and bra on the way upstairs, then removed the rest of her clothes in her room. In the bathroom she took an enema for the second time that day.

"Gil will come back raring to fuck my ass," she told herself, head down and full of Fleet solution. "This will be a two or three thousand dollar day! The ape does love anal. I don't even dare suggest it to Don, that fat beautiful cock would split me open." She expelled the enema and was washing up when she heard the truck driving in. Beverly, made up now, was wearing the pushup bra and hooking the garter belt when Gil peeked in the door of her room.

"There you are, beautiful! The boy is taken care of, and I saw Penny was in bed already. You look fantastic. I see you had the same idea I had!"

"I sure did," she purred. She turned the garter belt around and sat, gathering up a taupe stocking in her hands. "Dress like a burglar and you can surprise me in bed and rape me! Make me deep throat you and then force me to take it deep, up the ass! It's early, we can probably do two more times today. I'm so ready!"

She pointed a toe and applied the nylon sensuously all the way up to the milky soft thigh. Gil was watching avidly. "I'll wear little pink panties and you can cut them off, it'll be hot!" she told him.

"I have a ski mask for hunting, and a sharp knife, I'll be right back! God, you look good enough to eat."

"Do that after, and you'll get hard again quicker. We can go again!"

"You nasty girl, talking like that. Get right in bed, the burglar will be breaking in shortly!"

To get the mask and knife, he had to tiptoe past his sleeping wife. She looked so tragic. He was eaten by guilt until he pulled on the mask and started up the stairs. Then he thought about Beverly's tight young anus waiting for his hot meat and didn't feel so bad any more...

The Burglar snuck cautiously down the hallway, but the hardwood floor made little sound to betray him. Toward the front of the house was a bedroom door, which he quietly opened. He sent his flashlight beam across the room, then doused it immediately-- there was someone asleep in the bed! A blonde!

The thick carpet helped his noiseless approach. By the time he'd reached the bedside, his eyes had acclimated enough to evaluate the Woman sleeping right in front of him. She looked young! Her firm tits showed through the pink babydoll nightie, rising and falling with her soft breathing. His cock stirred to see her so helpless. Money was good, but this was ass! He placed the flashlight to one side and drew the hunting knife.

He pounced, clapping a leather glove across the sleeping mouth, knife at the ready. She jerked awake and screamed, but he'd muffled it. "Hold right still, Lady!" he said. Her blonde head trapped against his hip, she struggled a second but then subsided, eyes wide in fear. The back of his knife went to the lovely throat, so she could feel the cold metal.

"Right still, now... that's the way. You're gonna need that throat to suck my cock! Understand me?"

"Mm-hm!" came the muffled response.

"No noise, now," he went on, and he released her mouth.

"What do you want??" she whispered in a terrified little voice. His cock was harder now to hear her fear. Her tits heaved with her rapid breaths.

"You're gonna suck me, got that? Right down your throat! I want to see it go in right to the BRISTLES! Or I'll use this, and nobody will know you."

"Oh, God! Okay, okay, I'll suck you, just don't hurt me! Take whatever you want!!"

"Oh, I plan to, Lady." He removed the knife from her. "Take off the pink thing, let me see those tits!" He stepped back a pace and watched her pull it over her head. He reached out a gloved hand and turned the light on. "Nice rack! Now open my pants and suck!"

She made assurances in abject terms that he could have anything while she undid his pants and hauled them down over the Burglar's fat ass. His cock bobbed up and waved in her face. She looked into his eyes but could read no mercy.

She ducked a little under his obscene belly and took him into her mouth and then to the very root in her throat. He groaned and thrust forward with the wide, meaty hips. She was glad that she couldn't see his face.

"Good!" he said, and his glove clutched hair at the top of her head. "Open your mouth, I'm fucking your throat."

The Woman complied with a sob and he pumped his cock down her neck over and over, making her gag. Each time she gagged strongly, he'd pull back a bit and let her swallow and gain control before jamming it in again.

Tiring of this, she reached up and fondled his balls, then took charge of the rhythm of it, working him into her throat herself and licking him in a very sensuous way. His grip relaxed on her hair, and she brushed his hand away with a casual gesture. Remaining at the very bottom of her next stroke, she snaked out her tongue and licked his bag from down there. He uttered the name of the Lord in vain. She made another stroke and repeated the move, so that he'd do it again!

"Holy shit, Lady, you can really suck! But I don't wanna come just yet. Get on the bed again! Hands and knees!... Oh yeah, what a sweet ass. Guess what? I'm fucking it!"

"Oh God, not up my ass! Please! Don't rape my ass!" screamed the fearful Woman.

His knife came toward her. "Hold still, Lady!" with two brutal pulls, he cut away the little pink panties. Her anus looked moist. Beverly must have greased it up already, he thought. Better make sure, though. Her cunt was definitely moist, but he wasn't after that right now. From the night table he took the tube of lubricant and removed the glove from his right hand, laying the knife out of her reach.

She was sobbing and pleading for him to spare her poor little asshole. He drove a heavily-lubed thick finger into it and stretched it hard to left and right. Allowing two fingers to dip into the twat each time, he fucked it with the finger several strokes. It was very loose and slippery. Oh well, the more the better, I guess.

"Grab your ass and spread it!"

"Oh please no!" she whispered, but she did it for him and lowered her head to the sheet. With a push of his two hundred forty pounds, he slid his wet cock in and socked it home in one motion. There was a lot of lubrication!

His fuck strokes were easy and her little ass took him in a lovely tight grip. He babbled about what a fine tight asshole she had, and told her take it, lady, take it all the way in there!

"You prick, you're the first to ever do this! I hate you, I hate you!" she whispered loudly, and then she told him, "But it feels so fucking hot! I hate you for making me feel this good! You prick! You bastard! Fuck my ass, you son of a bitch!!"

She bucked into the thrusting hips, which slammed into her nearly as strongly as his son's did, because of his weight. The massive belly scraped its hairy underside across the upper curve of her upturned buns. With all the lube, it was really a good feeling. She almost liked the old Commander, the more he pumped cock into her willing rectum.

She begged the Burglar to let her turn and take him on her side. He pulled out, breathing hard. His rock hard cock glistened in the bedside lamplight, his hairy belly shook. She turned to look at the Burglar in fear, and he placed his cock and entered her again all at once with a grunt of piglike satisfaction.

The Burglar wallowed in the Woman's ass, which felt sweet at the new angle, soft like a mouth but tight like a little girl's hairless slit.

He closed his eyes and imagined a ten-year old with budding little bump tits and hair on her tiny pussy like the golden fuzz on her third-grader forearms... the Baby Girl was loving his invading giant meat! Her hot little cunt smacked its lips in joy to swallow him up!

He opened them again, and drank in the stockinged legs of the whore he'd installed in his fucking son's room just so he could fuck her ass. By day, she made him meals and tended his skinny comatose woman, by night she opened her ass and took him over and over.

Her anus pushed into her sweet pale hips and then, when he retreated, clung to him, stretching out and holding on to his cock vein by vein. Madly, he increased the pace.

The Woman loved being sodomized, it gave her a holy glow to know that she took no sin on her soul because she'd been forced to take the hairy Burglar any way he desired. All this sweet nasty pleasure free of guilt! His cock reamed her deeply. He was going faster and faster!

"Oh, sweet Jesus! Make this evildoer come in my ass! Save me, Lord, make him come in my ass!"

Jesus, evidently, granted her wish immediately, like the genie in the lamp. Sudden pulses made the fat Burglar's cock twitch against the compressing tube of gut, sudden extra liquid made the cock slide more easily, both of them grunted and moaned together.

"I loved it, you bastard," she gasped. And she wasn't lying, for once. There are worse ways to make a thousand dollars.

_____________________________________

The big, long hank of cock flesh drove in and slid out, Don's teenage muscles powered his hips up against her upraised bottom with a meaty slap! Sylvia called his name and closed her eyes, the better to pay attention to the sensations. He was going so fast and hard! It was the finest thing since her high school days.

The rude, meaty noises of a truly epic fuck sounded in the sunny bedroom. The boy was so big, she felt pinned by some raging animal. That's what's so much like high school! Christ, all these young boys fuck like wild men, I love it! He comes a bucketful, too! It was like being spanked the way he pile-drivered into her. Her wide-stretched pussy filled so full each time.

"Let me flip over, Don!"

They got set again and off he went. Her taut nipples traced ovals in the air with the bone shaking power of him. She clutched the quilt and grunted in pleasure to watch his single-minded jamming and slamming.

I am so fucked! she exulted. He's so beautiful in the light, look at the belly muscles and his arms. Poor Alice Coulter, she'll never know what she missed out on! He's getting to me, too... oh my. A little change in angle and her orgasm could be felt coming nearer, nearer.

The fine fullness, the shocking impact of the fresh young body unleashed to work his magic on her-- she opened her hips in response, she gave herself over to him. Just another moment, just a little more, a little more.

"Oh Don, I'm gonna come, go just like that honey--!" Helplessly unable to form words any longer, she uttered moans and shrieks.

Don was sweating and grinning his triumph, his cock sank out of sight and rebounded over and over in the ageless primitive rhythm. Boom! She came intensely, the whole world was one giant fuck! The wave passed, and another just as fine swamped her mind again. Amazingly, he was smashing into her with unabated power, and she had another long, deep twinge of sheer pleasure.

What if it never stops, what if I die just like this? She'd been too young and inexperienced to respond like this in high school. The luxury of it!

"I want to suck your tits, get on top, baby," Don was saying. She came back to the present and they eagerly rearranged themselves for more. She threw her mind into her pelvic muscles and squeezed him. His face looked like it had when she'd swallowed him whole at the beginning! Gotcha! She did it again, then again.

And his mouth came off the nipple, his head shot back against the quilt. With a grunt from deep in his chest, he shot the first stream of seed into her. His ass locked up, driving an extra inch in, and she rode the massive rod, squeezing another couple of times and flashing her own triumphant grin to give him such a strong one.

He just kept shooting! She recalled the arch of white in the sunshine when he'd come for Alice Coulter in his room, oblivious of the camera and the middle-aged reprobate on the floor in the hallway, taking dirty pictures of him.

The immediate future looked rosy to Sylvia. She liked her sex, and this was going to be a great summer and fall.

___________________________________

In mid-June, the night she'd first met him, it was not such a great time for the young man. He hugged himself on Jip's awful couch like a junkie. He didn't say much but an occasional mumbled curse, for the most part. When she or Jip could get his attention, he was a pleasant, even charming fellow, but his misery kept withdrawing him from them. Not to mention going off to vomit a lot.

"What the hell is the matter with him, Jip?" she wondered.

Jip shook his head. "No idea. He's nothing like this, usually. He said there's something wrong at his house or something. Ronnie was worried about him, and I guess he shoulda been! Poor kid."

She offered him tylenols, soup, and dope. Except for the soup, he took her up on it, and the marijuana actually seemed to help. Or maybe the painkillers had hit, although he vomited right along, even once he was empty. Eventually he could sleep, although he was up a number of times in the night. She'd left a doob or two with him on the coffee table, and he'd smoked it all in the night at some point.

In the morning he was pale and drained-looking, but sharp and fairly clear of mind. He shook a little until the morning coffee got into him. He told them he'd see a P.A. named Magowan some time that afternoon.

Sylvia was curious, and he could pay attention now. She extracted a coherent story of his difficulties from him. She saw his back and arms as he dressed, and glimpsed his ass through the bathroom doorway once when he was toweling off. The apartment was cheap and very small for two people. Three was a crowd. Nothing anyone could do about that, but seeing the muscular nineteen-year-old made her think. Sylvia made a living as a photographer.

"Jip, I'd like to set up at your worksite and take a few rolls today. Do you think Ron will mind?" A young man like Don Annas driving nails in the summer sun might produce some saleable shots.

"I imagine he will, but all you can do is ask," Jip said. "Hey Don! Sylvia wants to photograph you! You're a model!"

"I am?"

"You're a model if you wanna be," Sylvia amended. "I don't insist, but I'd like to follow you around the scaffolding with a camera if you're willing to let me do it."

"Sure. You put up with me last night, and that was decent weed! It really seemed to help. So if you want a favor, you got it." So the three of them went to the house on Montgomery Street together in the truck. She put her proposal to Ron.

Ron thought about what she wanted to do. And suddenly he realized she'd be squatting and reaching and climbing all over, and she had tight shorts and good legs. "As long as I'm not in the shots and you don't sue me if you fall off, go for it," he decided.

Don tried to put a good face on it through the morning, but everything ticked him off, even Sylvia, even inoffensive Jip! His aches persisted, though the intensity was down from the day before. He chilled easily, he was shaky and a little sweaty. He was every bit as irritable, but on the whole he seemed to have gotten better. Ron was noncommittal, damn him! Waiting to hear what Magowan says, I guess, thought the young man.