Ablutions, Inc.

This was a hint at what being a grown-up was like? Maybe?

At one level, I had a sense of being in an in-between stage, both a normal high school senior and (somewhat suddenly) also more of a Fully Grown, full-fledged Man... Or, something?

Was I a 'man'?

I felt like a man, as opposed to a dog.

I felt like a man, compared to a woman.

I felt like a man, remembering when I was a kid.

So, yes, intellectually I knew I was a man.

As a word of self-description, did it sit there as 'maybe', 'yeah okay', or 'of course'?

Being a 'man' meant being mature, of course, but it was more, it was being a success at something. I'd had sets of successes that gave me boosts, kinda.

I was a good runner-man, and a good singer-man, and a good dog-groomer man, and a good math-man, and a science-geek-man, and a good D-and-D-player man... but the man part there wasn't nearly as important as the first parts of those descriptions.

Freshman year, I could run cross country in one of two races - freshman or varsity. The freshmen were separated because of a blatant difference in capability between an 18 (or almost 19) year old runner, versus a 14-almost-15 year old runner. Frankly, competition between those age groups wouldn't be close to fair.

At the same time, for whatever reason, I got better faster than the other freshmen on my team, so coach had me switch to varsity races for the second half of my freshman season. I was better than most of our seniors, so it made sense.

The last race we ran for the season was a regional event, but coach entered me as a freshman again, probably giving up a chance to do well as a team. Instead, he wanted me to have a chance at winning a big race. I was surprised and emotionally touched by that. He was respecting my personal needs, and it was empowering. I didn't 'win', but I placed really high and that felt great.

Coach was what my mom always called, 'Good People'. He'd been there as a father figure for me as well, though I doubt he knew his role given I didn't really let on or try to call him 'dad'. I had a dad, he just wasn't alive anymore. Still, coach had a role to play even if I didn't use the word with him directly.

In my mind the words 'coach' and 'dad' were piled together as almost-synonyms.

That isn't to say he wasn't useful as an older-friend figure. I had asked Coach for advice about dating Sue Abernathy, and how she seemed pretty stand-off-ish, and was there some pattern that I was missing, that I should do one thing or another to help her be more open with me?

He'd laughed with an eye-to-ceiling memory look that told me he wasn't laughing at me, but at his own situations, and asked me a bunch of questions that all came down to whether I was being respectful, listening to her tell stories and repeating them back enough to prove I was listening, telling her what made me emotional - angry, sad, happy, etc. - and some other stuff.

The questions he asked were super-valuable, as methods to figure things out, but after he was done listening to me and getting the lay of the situation, he bit his lip and looked sideways, figuring out how to phrase something.

The answer was pretty epic.

"I-can-tellya, tole other people, no secret. Ya gots-ta run-da girlfriend equation. 'Body's a-gottsta-own equations. Coefficients. Multipliers, what-not. I was a phys-ed major, a-whadoo I-knows."

I nodded, which granted him permission to be 'dumb' since he wanted it. He wasn't dumb, but he wanted the right to seem dumb, I was happy to give it. He was usually pretty wise.

"So, there's eight factors: history, love, physical stuff, cleanth, money, shyness, wants, timing. Both of you'ze gotts-em, botha-yous gotts different numbers, compatibility, for each. If you match, enough? Bingo. Now, some factors trump other factors, and some are total relationship killers. Most important one is probably Love. It's timeless - does not matter when or how. It bridges gaps. Multiplies things you don't expect. Love does a lot. At your stage, though, I'd say, set your expectations low, you'll be happier."

I didn't get that.

"Don't ask a super-pretty girl out because she's pretty, or avoid her because of it, neither. Don't expect people to be one way or another. Ask 'em questions. Expect slow progress. Ask out someone Really Different from you. Or, maybe, somebody interesting. Listen, a lot! You're not ... you don't strike me as the type that chases the prettiest just for their looks. Bad pattern, that. Find someone ... not fun, but... fulfilling. Someone who you think might be interesting to go on a long hike with. Is this Sue Abernathy - I'm not saying I know her, I'm not going to talk with her if I do - worthy? Her equations match yours? Don't answer me, answer yourself."

That was all the time we had, but I've remembered that conversation like it was yesterday, and I even wrote it down in one of my journals (encrypted and safe, thank you).

So I could think about whether my equations matched Dana's, or Talia's, or Sue's, or anyone's, even Kim's, or Lisa's, or anyone's.

Would my history, or physical-stuff - in the form of my sense of cleanth about my room - match up with those girls, if they or anyone came over?

I had to look at my decorations.

There were track and field medals I'd earned my Freshman year in dual meets, on my PR (personal records) corkboard. My walls had posters of the periodic table, an isotope table, and one with family-tree of languages. Over my desk I had pictures of rockets since I wanted to go up in one someday, or work on them, or see them in person, or talk with an engineer, and did I mention I knew a lot about rockets?

I could laugh at myself, looking at them, and yet, those were okay.

I got a box out of my closet, half-filled with kid toys, and went to my bookshelves. I had a bunch of stupid crap I'd gotten at an amusement park once, or at a fair or whatever, cereal box prizes, stupid shit. I tossed that into the box. Not needed now. I should have cleaned it a long time ago, really, but for some reason it looked fun to have out.

I'd had a whole new level of fun, and it had kind-of redefined what 'fun' was.

Plus, I'd seen Dana's room, and Talia's, and that clued me to what knick-nack crap looked like in someone else's place.

I'd seen my D-and-D friend's bedrooms - they had this stuff, too, but they were more geeky and it kind of fit with their character and playfulness. I was still plenty playful, and liked the oddball stuff I had out, kind-of.

I didn't sweep Everything away, just the more childish stuff.

Looking around and thinking about how my posters were supposed to help me memorize and know things, I had a SUPER oddball thought:

What I'd just LOVE to have, was an 'exploded' diagram of a human body. That is, where every tiny part and subsystem was made clear from the parts around it, labeled, etc. Thinking about it, though, I realized I wanted something more specific.

I didn't just want a 'human' body.

I wanted a diagram of the female crotch region. It didn't have to be a picture, it could be abstracted, but I wanted to see how it all fit together and what each part was. There had to be sensory nerves, inflating structures (maybe?), ducts and glands and tubes and connections, muscles, bones, all that kind of thing, right?

I wanted to be able to scientifically chart out exactly what to touch, in what order, to bring a girl to orgasm, as easily and reliably as possible!

At the same time my logical brain was thinking up this Grand Scheme of a Fabulous Useful Poster, my social brain just made me burst out with maniacal laughter.

How would a poster like that go over, if someone visited my room?

"Hey, Dana. Here's my room. See this? It's my diagram of how all your super-private parts fit together, if they were opened up and on display and pulled apart to see the fiddly bits... Why, no, I don't want to dissect anything, why do you ask?"

Wow. Bad idea!!!!

My goal was really, how do I come up with sequences and touches (and whatever other techniques) that I could give them, that would make more joys, like they were giving me.

As a guy, my feels are pretty obvious - make my cock feel like it's in a pussy. So - sucking licks and stroking. Sure, I get that.

For WOMEN? There was a lot of machinery in there, from what little I knew, and only the base level of 'this is a big thing and it's here' was online, not the fine structure of how it worked.

The simple solution (on a personal level) was probably low tech - listening, then doing what they asked.

I had done that.

I also had the idea I was getting lucky and I might not be able to repeat the results.

Of course I'd try. But... I couldn't just LISTEN. That'd be... Just What They'd Be _Expecting_ Me To Do!!! Haahhahhhaaaa!!! (again, maniacal laugh, fingertips clutched and tapping, eyes flaring).

My brain was working overtime. I'd had a taste of Supreme Beauty, and imagination does big things to the cogitations (SAT word FTW) of a teenage horny guy.

And, I was horny. I'd had a taste, a delight, a beauty, but... there was MOAR and I wanted to do it - Again and Again and... (etc.)

I definitely needed some sleep.

I had to settle for a good shower and a shave, trimming back my hair a little, and even carefully using the beard trimmer to shorten the bushy-plot near my package. I didn't shave it or anywhere close, but I did shorten enough to make it cleaner looking.

Plus, I'd never used my beard trimmer anywhere near my balls, and the wrinkly skin made me Super Duper nervous about trying that. I might 'get some' later, and I definitely didn't want to have scabs and tenderness from fresh cuts getting in the way of... DANA. Hmmmm...

My mind went to warm-fuzzy for a moment.

Standing wondering if I'd get any sleep that night, it occurred to me that the chances were both good and bad for that, and I wasn't sure (even with my fatigue level) what I should wish for.

If life turned into Talia, until the end, Boom, I would be happy.

So, kissing, being WITH Talia, would have been enough for a great night.

Dana's kiss and profession of caring and love: It would have been enough.

Dana's morning greeting and hint of beauty: It would have been enough.

But I got more. I might get more. Everything from 'now on', I thought, was bonus, a life-plus event, and all I had to do was appreciate it and be as true to my heart as possible. It's what dogs did. I could live in the moment if I was true to my loyalties.

Loyalty didn't mean only kissing one girl. Loyalty meant openness and free expression of caring, like a dog did. They were loyal, dedicated, to all the pack. At least, that's what it felt like.

What did I know! I was an idiot in a meat suit, doing my best in a complicated situation.

Dressed nicely in cotton slacks and a button-down shirt, I hoped I was the right level of dressed up. I didn't figure their vibe was wanting me in a tie, which was good because I only had my dad's leftover ones and had no idea if that stuff went out of style. For choral concerts I wore my black suit and black tie, and this didn't feel that formal.

They didn't wear shoes in the house, so I didn't worry about putting on penny loafers, my only other choice/non-choice idea.

I still had a lot of time left, and I'd cleaned my room pretty well.

Getting the papers on my desk sorted out (into new file folders of MISC and DND), I felt good about having cleaned up. I didn't want my PACK (laughing at myself for this word, used with dogs, to describe Dana and Talia) to have to deal with my childhood crap, and it made my room look nicer, too.

They weren't supposed to come over, I just figured the chances were suddenly Very Much Higher than they had been, and I didn't want to worry.

Throwing some clothes in an old backpack, I got downstairs and had just about finished cleaning the kitchen when Mom got home.

This was a worry for me (seeing her again, explaining? Not needing to? Consequences? Fallout?), but I didn't realize it until she walked in. Sometimes I could be kind of self-unaware.

On the other hand, I was kind of legit preoccupied.

Coming in the back door, she gave me a hug like normal (she was always pretty demonstrative), got her coat off and waited all of 15 seconds to ask, "Sooooo, who is she?"

My not having been home the previous night was the elephant in the room until it wasn't.

"Dana Wilson. We really did cook a brisket last night - for dinner tonight. I'm headed there in a few minutes."

"And you're going to bring me some?" The expectation was heavy in the air, she really had a priority.

I considered, "I'm sure they'll let me put some in a baggie or something."

She raised an eyebrow, "I've had brisket before. You WILL be bringing me some, young man! Or, the next time I make cake or a pie or something I'm gonna think twice about giving you any.

"That good?"

"I think the phrase is, 'to die for'."

"Noted."

"Now, fess up. You said Dana. Is it really Dana, or her sister Talia?"

I was confused. "How do you know that?"

She laughed, "I got a call from Shoshanna last night. We know each other from Columbiettes. Your father was in Knights of Columbus, of course, and Mr. Wilson was, too, though I think he converted to Judaism, I'm not positive. She used to make goodies for Columbiettes bake sales every once in a while, usually some kind of fruit compote - a kuchen, she called it? Delicious! I got that recipe fast... though I haven't made it in a long time. I like her. Dana and Talia used to run around and 'sample' stuff, I'm not going to forget that. Cute as can be, running as fast as feet would take them."

"Dana's on the team with me, so she's still running. Not sure about Talia's being a runner."

The question hung there. I didn't address why Shosh called her.

I think my face might have given it away. "I like her, too."

The silence waited. "So? Which one?"

"It's complicated."

Mom looked at me, confused, and came over to sit down. WREX sat next to her, she had been trailing me all day. "Okay..."

She wanted details. I decided to come clean. Mom and I have always been pretty close, as far as I could tell compared to other guys and their moms. I hadn't talked about my dating very much mostly because it'd been pretty limited. "Dana and I kissed first, but then I was helping out, and Talia kissed me, and then they talked - In Front of Me!!! - and decided they were both going to have to share, and it was very odd but it... sort of works?"

Her nod and looking down and sideways meant she was thinking, and I didn't want to interrupt her. Finally, she replied, "And... You stayed over. You're 18, that's fine, but..."

"You want to know who." I sighed. "Talia, last night, but they agreed, and it's gonna be Dana, tonight? I ... dunno how to feel, except lucky. They're both ... Wow. Amazing. This morning, everyone was chipper and happy, like they all know what happened? And it's okay between the two of them? I got real feelings, from both of them, like, I dunno... Tender stuff?"

"How do you feel? Do you like one girl more? Is it... uncomfortable for you?"

"Pffft! NOT one bit!! Ohmygod, no. Very cool by me. I figure, though, I have to treat them equally? If I play favorites, it all crashes, so I've been... I'm trying to be, pretty careful."

Mom started chuckling and shaking her head, "I have no experience with this."

"No shit!... Oh, sorry."

"Fine, dear. Sounds like some swearing will be only the start of the complications. I'll say, you're setting yourself up for some odd situations, and you... might not have a lot of experience?" Her look at me was appraising, waiting for me to fill in the blanks.

I shrugged. I didn't want to give away too much. "I think I want to keep that part to myself."

"Fair enough. Just don't..." Her voice faded off. "Uh... I have no idea what to tell you. If you love them, LOVE them. If you don't, be totally honest - respectful, but honest. Don't lie, or try to hide any truths. Ask questions."

I looked at the clock. "I said I'd be over there soon. I'm gonna go?"

She stood and gave me a huge hug, and kissed my neck because that's just what she could reach, not the top of my head anymore. "Go with God, Kevin. And, you might want to visit Father Paulo at some point, he might have advice, too."

I laughed, getting my coat on and grabbing my backpack. "Father Paulo is a nice guy, but I'm pretty sure a Catholic priest is going to understand two... jaw-droppingly beautiful Jewish girls who're boning me with the full approval of their mother."

She laughed, too, and I left.

After I closed the door, I realized I'd admitted to my mom I was having sex, and implied it was with both Dana and Talia, even though it'd only been with Talia thus far. Objectively, I stood a good chance of getting with Dana that night, but presumptions could kill this whole thing and I wanted to be super-careful until we figured out our ground rules.

On the way over I had planned to go to the supermarket for flowers, but those always seemed dyed and overpriced, so I drove a little farther to the florist's. Inside, I changed my mind away from 'normal' into a better idea.

Normal would've been 2 equal bouquets in different colors, and a third less elaborate one for Shosh.

Instead, I had her re-pot two daisy plants into bigger (differently-colored) pots, and sell me seeds for an exotic blue daisy variety.

I liked the idea of them growing things, and then they could think of me when they looked at the plant in their window.

Adding cut flowers for Shosh, I headed over, time-cushion gone and I was late, at least 20 minutes. This wasn't the kind of impression to make, but at least I had the bags with the plants.

== Chapter: Dana's Shabbat==

Parking on the street in front, I saw the street was crowded and the driveway was already full.

Pulling up in a cybertruck isn't a quiet, understated act. Well, it's quiet, but not understated. Mine was banged up, scratched, and not exactly clean, but the statement is there.

Walking up to the house, the door opened in front of me. Shosh stood there smiling. "Welcome, Kevin! Long time no see!"

I laughed and came in; she took my coat and I slipped off my shoes in their section by the door. I'd learned the Norwegian rule was, no shoes and nice socks indoors.

Quickly the bags and my pack were taken from me and I got a hug from Dana.

Dana.

Mmmmm.... Dana!

She didn't even let me see who was there, coming at me from the door side so I couldn't see over her shoulder. She planted a kiss on me that may have reached my toes from the inside (metaphorically and emotionally).

As soon as she broke away, I got an immediate hug and a double-cheek-kiss from a lady introduced as Shosh's sister, Miriam. She smelled nice. Her husband Seth was behind her and I got a firm handshake. They spoke French to each other so that explained her double-cheek-kiss.

Talia was next, sweeping in and getting a tight hug and an extended kiss (with some tongue!) as well, which was mostly ignored, I think, by the sound of it (I wasn't watching, I was being kissed!).

Turning me around... there was ... Kim?!? And, next to her... Lisa?!?!?

WTF?

Again, WTF?!?

I think my eyes might have betrayed some surprise, but I kept it together and pretended this was a normal thing.

Kim moved in, too, and in a smiling imitation of the French greeting, gave me an overly-dramatic hug and then kissed each of my cheeks twice. She followed this by ending the cheek-touches with a whispered, "Awk-ward!"

I laughed with her but our eyes met with both of us saying a kind of soft hello glance, me because I knew this couldn't be easy for her, and her because she didn't know what was up with me... probably.

As Lisa came in to repeat the maneuver, she hugged me tighter than I expected and whispered to me, "Help?"