Amorous Goods: Scar Tissue

"What isn't in the journal, but I heard from Morgana, was that young Ludwig had begun hooking up with eine heiss Hausfrau, a hot housewife, but intercourse was uncomfortable for her due to a badly performed episiotomy. Herr Doctor Freitag went out looking for a cure."

Dylan began singing in a Marvin Gaye tenor. "Ooh, baby. When I get that feeling, I want sexual healing."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Ramona Gutierrez was released from the hospital late Sunday morning, so the usual Sunday family dinner was replaced by Sunday brunch. A steady parade of friends and family kept stopping by to welcome her home. Despite the distractions, the recovering victim and her sister managed to grill Angelina about her handsome lunch date from the Wednesday before.

Lina had actually considered inviting Greg to visit and pass on his own well wishes for her mother, but had decided, wisely, that there would be too much going on to allow for a proper introduction. She was especially glad she hadn't subjected the poor man to the extended Gutierrez clan when her mother and aunt learned that Lina and Greg had gotten together every day since that lunch date. Mamá and Tía Francesca began pressing for details, with Lina's aunt really wanting to learn if there had been sleepovers.

"Be careful," warned her mother. "Going too fast can give a boy the wrong signal."

"Forget that," said her mother's younger sister. "Angelina, baby, you keep going just as you are. I've never seen you looking so happy."

Lina's father usually stayed out of the henpecking, especially when it skirted the idea of his daughters being sexual creatures, but tonight he couldn't help himself. There was something different about his Angelina. "You do look happy, mi corazón," he mused. Then, in his more typical Dad voice: "Well, as long as he's not a loser like that Pachuco-wannabe you brought home that time." That time had been when Lina was still in high school, but Lina understood and appreciated her father's concern for her.

"And when will you bring him over for dinner?" asked her mother. "Maybe next week?"

And so it went.

Lina and Greg had a good phone call Monday evening, and she was happy that he laughed when she told him about the interrogation she had undergone because of him. She could also tell he was on the verge of inviting her to come and spend the night, but she subtly headed him off. She'd actually missed him quite a lot over these two days, but her mother's words had stuck with her. About going too fast. They seemed so compatible and comfortable whether talking on the phone, hanging out with friends, or making love, that it paradoxically made her worry more about the let-down, because there was always a let-down. The anxiety only increased when she admitted to herself that she'd been more open, intimate, and to be honest, downright nasty with Greg in just two and a half sexual encounters, than she'd been with men she'd partnered with for months. Yes, best to take a breather.

Plus, there was...well, she didn't know what 'it' was, but 'it' raised even more doubts in her mind than their quickly developing relationship did. Her complexion was undoubtedly better, the looks she got from her friends and family told her she wasn't imagining it, although the topic was too sensitive for anyone to put into plain words. But had it really happened just over the past few days? Perhaps it had actually been over the past week and a half, the whole time she'd known Greg. Perhaps their relationship had been so comfortable from the get-go that her stress levels had dropped and this was just her body's reaction. Her dermatologists over the years had all agreed that stressing over the acne could have the boomerang effect of worsening the acne. And if it had only been the absence of new blemishes, she might have convinced herself that was it. But would that also heal the scars of years? Because those were definitely dimming too. Especially after...

Lina blushed as she studied her face in her bathroom mirror and remembered how on Saturday night, she'd not only jacked him off onto her face, she'd also squeezed out the content of his used condom and rubbed it into her skin. She felt a burn in her groin as she thought about the intimacy of it and an even brighter burn in her heart when she saw the apparent effects on her face.

This was another reason why she'd avoided seeing him since leaving his place Sunday morning. She needed time to think. Needed a couple of days to see if the effects were real. Would they persist, or God forbid, reverse? What if the effect was temporary? How was she going to convince her new boyfriend to give her a sperm masque every night without coming across as some kind of kinky freak who should have her own fetish porn channel?

During their phone call earlier, Lina had agreed to meet Greg for dinner the next night, Tuesday. Now, as she lay in her bed, she found herself romantically wishing he was cuddling her right then and sexually wishing it was after another wonderful session of lovemaking. She ended up as she had the week before they got together, by rubbing out an orgasm before she was able to relax enough to fall asleep. This time, however, as she drifted off, she thought of his hot cream seeping into her skin and washing away all those teenage years of torment and suffering.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

"I missed you," Greg said after giving Lina a hello kiss outside the restaurant that curled her toes. Then he laughed. "Crap, I told myself I wasn't going to say that." He took a half step back and a more serious look came over his face. "I spent a lot of time thinking about you over the past two days, and it struck me that I've been coming on pretty fast and furious, and it might be too much. I really like you, Lina, but I don't want come to across as some smothering stalker, so we can go as slow—"

She threw her arms around his neck. "Shut up and kiss me again, you fool!"

After dinner, they went back to her place for the first time and straight into a hot and heavy make out session. By stages, their clothes came off and they made their way into her bedroom, where they ended up in a sixty-nine with Lina on top. Now, they slowed down, gently kissing and exploring the parts they'd each attacked so vigorously the past weekend.

Suddenly, Greg heard a laugh from between his legs. He broke the contact between his horizontal and her vertical lips and spoke into her tasty honeypot. "Um, you know, laughter at this point isn't really what a guy hopes to hear."

"I was just remembering something Tory said. When she asked me how you were after our first weekend, I said you were lovely. She said something like, she'd never heard a penis referred to as lovely before. And she didn't want to believe that I still hadn't seen it."

She paused and tenderly sucked the velvety head.

"I'll have to let her know that you really do have a lovely penis. Even your balls are lovely," she cooed as she gently cupped them and brought them up to meet her lips.

He chuckled. "Well, I'm lucky to even still have them, so I guess I really need to thank the witch who saved them for also making them lovely."

Her head came up, and over her shoulder she said, "Saved them? Witch?"

He slathered up a finger and ran it languidly around her outer lips as he answered. "You remember when I told you about going to the old country, to Bohemia, for a visit when I was a kid?"

She said she did as she laid butterfly kisses down his length.

"So, they wanted us to meet the oldest living members of the family, a great-great-uncle and aunt in their 80s who lived deep, deep in the mountains with the aunt's mother, who was somewhere over 100."

"Wow. They lived all by themselves?"

"Yes and no. It was just the three of them in their house, but there were a few other families out there too. I wouldn't call them a commune, but they all helped each other with farming and whatever, so the old folks were still getting by. No one could convince 'em to move. I think they just wanted to stay out of reach of the Soviets or the Nazis or Napoleon or whoever they thought was out there plotting to take their freedom."

Lina dismounted from Greg's head by swinging her leg over to the side. Then she moved her whole body around, with his cock in her mouth as her pivot point, until she was between his legs and looking up at him along his body. She lifted her mouth but kept her hands on his veined shaft.

"And how old were you? Doesn't sound like much of a fun vacation for a kid."

"I was eight, almost nine. And actually, it was a lot of fun, at least at first. A real adventure. We had to go the last few miles by horse drawn wagons, no regular car could go over that road. I had two Czech cousins with me and we were having a great time. Riding in the wagon, sleeping in these old-fashioned canvas tents and exploring the woods and mountains."

"And then something happened? Something that threatened your poor little boy balls?" She kissed his decidedly manly testicles.

"At some point they must have had cows or sheep or something, because they had this old fenced-in field. We were kicking a soccer ball around and one cousin put it over my head and out of the field. There was this old, low, barbed-wire fence around it and I went running and jumped up to use a wooden post to vault the fence and go after the ball."

She winced. "Don't tell me."

"Yeah," he replied, a wince of his own in his voice. "The post was rotten and crumbled right under my hands and I fell astride the fence."

"And caught your jewels on the barbed wire?"

"Worse. The strands broke loose, so I had two of them jammed up together in my crotch and a third around my thigh and I was rolling. By the time I came to a halt I, and they, were wrapped tight."

"Oh, my God."

"Yeah, I was definitely calling on Him at the top of my voice."

"And he sent you a witch to save you?"

"Well, to cut to the chase, my father and some other men cut me loose and carried me back to the house. My dad said he was holding everything in place, trying to stop the bleeding. My great-great-aunt, this 80-something shrivelled old crone, took her finest needles and dropped a few stitches in where I was bleeding the worst. Meanwhile, her mother pulled some kind of ointment out of an old chest and began warming it up over the woodstove. Of course, I heard all of this from my mother later, and she said the old one also had some other jars and vials and was adding a pinch of this and a drop of that and apparently doing incantations or something as she stirred. Then she brought the pot over and started dripping the goo into my wounds."

"Holy crap. You must have been screaming bloody murder. I know you survived, but I'm feeling so bad for you."

"Well, I'd passed out long before this started, so that was good for me. But Mom says she was crying and screaming enough for both of us. She said the aunt had closed up a bleeding vein and something else, maybe the vas deferens, but left the outside open until her mother got her potion inside. Then she closed up my scrotum and penis and the wounds on my thighs and they applied more of the goo all over everything and wrapped it all up with just an opening at the tip for my pee."

"Then they got you to a hospital in time for a surgeon to fix up their temporary stitches?"

"No. Remember, we got there in a hard wagon over a bumpy, rut-filled road. The old ones said if they tried to carry me back out too soon, all their work would probably tear loose, and the pain and damage would be even worse. So I stayed in bed for three days, using a make shift bed pan. My mother cleaning me up, and the two old women tending to my wounds." He paused; something had come into his voice.

"What is it?" she asked. "Did you get an infection or something?"

"What? No, no. Which was another thing that amazed the doctors I did see later. No, I just still get confused when I try to remember. My folks say I was often awake and speaking, but it was mostly nonsense. For me it's still just a weird dream. A really, really weird dream."

"So, you just lay there until they could move you?"

"Basically. My great-aunt unwrapped everything and applied new ointment every day. And they manipulated the sutures and skin to be sure nothing bunched up. And the old one, the mother—"

"The witch?"

Greg nodded. "She kept brewing up different potions for me to drink, to avoid infection and handle the pain. And she kept tinkering with the skin ointment. My parents think she was mixing weaker and weaker portions as I healed, until they were just using the base unguent that the old ladies blended from local plants. Apparently, all the villagers came to the women for their basic health care."

Lina suddenly got up on her hands and knees, crawled over and turned on the bedside lamp, then laid back down between Greg's legs and lifted his penis and scrotum and inspected their undersides.

"Why don't I see a scar? Did a doctor do a revision on it later?"

"No, there was no need. The old seamstress did such a good job sewing me up and their homemade salve worked so well, that all that was left were some thin, white lines."

Lina began pulling pubic hairs apart, like a chimp looking for parasites on a troop mate. "But I don't see anything. Did you just make all that up...or did the scar just keep getting better?"

"Yeah, well, that's the weird part."

"We're just now getting to the weird part?"

"Well, call it another facet of weird," he chuckled. "The scars stayed just the same for the next few years, but when I hit puberty, when that hair you're pulling on started growing in, the remaining scars began going away by themselves."

"And you ended up with a lovely penis and matching lovely balls."

"So says you," he replied.

"So says I." She reapplied her mouth to the lovely package with great enthusiasm.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Lina's mind was all over the place as she loved on Greg's manhood.

How could there be no scar if the injury was as bad as he said? But why would he make up such an elaborate tale? Witches and healing potions, did he really believe that? Although, as crazy as it sounded, it was still the only thing she'd heard or thought of that even began to explain what was happening with her own scars. They'd applied magic ointment to the deep wounds on his scrotum and when puberty hit, he developed magic cum.

She wanted to get it on her face again to see if she'd clear up even more. But, again, she feared that having him spunk her face too often would really make him think she was some kind of freak. Maybe the kind of freak you fuck, but don't make your girlfriend. She didn't want that to happen; she'd been falling for him well before this weird shit with his semen had come up and she wanted that to continue.

What if she swallowed it? What kind of magic could it work inside of her? Would it be a waste of a good skin treatment, or would it improve her digestion or make her farts smell good? She giggled around his cock at that thought.

Then she found herself gawping open-mouthed like a fish out of water when he pulled his magic wand away from her with no warning. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked up to see him rolling a condom down over his rampant member.

"Get on your hands and knees and bring your fine ass over here."

She couldn't speak as she swallowed the spit that had built up in her mouth and could have sworn it was suddenly leaking out of her pussy, because she was absolutely dripping down there. She popped up, spun around and then backed up toward him, her round ass leading the way.

As soon as she was close enough, Greg grabbed Lina's hip with one hand and used the other to push his cock down parallel with the mattress. He guided it straight through her puffy labia. They both groaned as he entered her hot, tight body.

"Oh, God, baby," he grunted as he suddenly pulled out of her. He crouched over her back; his cock lay between her ass cheeks like a hot dog on a bun. "You feel so good," he hissed into her ear, "I don't know how long I can last."

"Don't hold back. I love feeling you lose yourself to me." She clenched her ass cheeks, trapping his throbbing pole. "Besides, I know you'll make things even afterward."

Greg straightened up so he could see his hard, pale rod nestled between her soft, brown buns. "Squeeze it again, like you did."

Lina gave three quick squeezes of her powerful ass cheeks, holding them together the last time so that the hard cock was trapped.

"Ooohh," the cock's owner quietly groaned. Then his fingers dug into her buns and pulled them open. He dipped his hips so that his gloved penis slid between the dark pink lips of Lina's gash and back into her love hole. Both sucked in breath and held it as he stopped and lingered.

"Don't hold back," she repeated and thrust backwards, bringing him deeper into her vagina.

Greg took her at her word and unleashed his built-up passion. His balls slapped against her fine ass as he pounded root deep into her for a hundred seconds before shooting his load madly, like a bull at stud.

Lina collapsed onto her belly, and Greg followed, lying on her heavily, but not too heavily. She loved the sound of his strained breathing; clearly, she'd drained all the man's energy. And his cum! After a minute Greg rolled away and laid down next to her. She rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow. His firm chest and belly rose and fell as he regained his breath. Below them she saw his hand was gripping the base of his cock, holding the well-tested condom in place.

Before Lina could offer to dispose of his used rubber again, as she'd done on Saturday night, Greg suddenly sat up and spun sideways, placing his feet flat on the ground.

On his feet and still holding the condom in place, he said, "Afraid I need to pee. But I'll be back quick as I can."

He went into her ensuite, and she heard the noises of water moving through pipes as he flushed and washed his hands. When he returned, he showed that he remembered where they were on the orgasm scoreboard and immediately applied lips, tongue, and fingers until she was once again gushing into his eager mouth.

Deciding it was time for sleep after that, since it was a work night, they went into the bathroom together to brush their teeth. Lina provided him a new toothbrush, just as he'd done for her on her first night at his place. After unwrapping it, she dropped the packaging into the small trashcan under the sink.

When Greg finished brushing, she shooed him out so she could answer her own call of nature. As soon as she'd washed and dried her hands, she opened up the sink cabinet to look at what had caught her eye while throwing away the toothbrush wrapper. Yes, there at the bottom of the bag was Greg's used condom; tied with a knot to keep the contents from getting all over the trashbag.

Moving hypnotically, Lina reached in and retrieved the shrivelled-up party balloon. The reservoir tip held a good wad of man seed. What should she do with it?

Do with it? She asked herself. What do you mean, do with it? Was she really contemplating untying a used condom and rubbing its contents over her face in the expectation that it was magic and could cure acne? Well, why not? She'd done it the last night they'd been together.

Conflicted and confused, she lay the prophylactic on the sink counter. Then she looked closely into the mirror. No, she wasn't hallucinating, her skin really was clearer, clearer than it had been since she was twelve. There was no doubt what she was going to do next.

She untied the condom and carefully squeezed the precious fluid into the palm of her hand. Then she applied it as she'd applied so many useless tubes of Clearasil and other ointments over the years. She didn't rub it over her whole face this time, instead, she targeted her deepest scars.