Let's Make a Deal Pt. 06

Author's note:

This is part of a long story. No part of it is intended to stand alone. I suggest starting with Part 1

In revising the whole story, I've corrected errors, but also filled in a lot. This has inevitably made it all even longer. My apologies to anyone who read it in the original form and now finds it changed for the worse.

If you're looking mostly for explicit sex, this probably is not the story for you, so why don't you just go on to something else? There is explicit sex in some parts, but even there it's not the focus.

Also, some parts contain religious discussions which will offend some people and bore others. If you're one of those people, again, why not go on to something else?

24. Nearly all the best things that came to me in life have been unexpected, unplanned by me.

Wednesday evening, after they ate, they went into Martha's bedroom. There was one chair, or rather stool. Scott sat down on the floor, Lynda on the stool, and Martha on the edge of the bed. Scott said, "Everybody remember what I said last night? . . . Any problems or issues? . . . OK, then. I've gone back and forth on this, about who should go first. On the one hand, Martha and I already did everything I'm talking about, Monday night, so maybe it should be Lynda's turn. On the other hand, what with the condom, it seems like I may do better if Martha's first, I mean I may have a little trouble coming the second time because of the condom, and Lynda may prefer to postpone this as long as possible anyway. As of now, I'm leaning that way. Do you girls have anything to add on that topic?"

The two women looked at each other. It seemed to Scott that some kind of silent communication passed between them. Martha said, "We can't do much with you sitting there. Come over here and kiss me." So Scott got up. He pulled off his shoes and socks, then went over to Martha, and took her by the hand and pulled her up. He bent his head down and kissed her, and kept on. After a few minutes, when they broke for a moment, he said, "I'm afraid you may find me unbearably stodgy and unimaginative. Years and years and years ago, I read an article where a woman complained about this, in men generally. Something like this: First they kiss you, then they feel your breasts, then they rub your, your genital area, then a finger goes in, then they think you're ready for sex. I understood that she found this utterly boring and routine, but if she said what she wanted instead, I didn't understand. I don't really think she wanted them to just add another step or two.

"And Chris never had any interest in variety. At any rate, I probably don't do fun and spontaneous very well, so if there's more you want, you need to tell me. I can try some oral sex on you, if you like. I hesitate for a lot of reasons: I know I'm not good at it, I don't know how to learn better, and I'm sure I'm dealing here with two women who do know what's what. I may eventually try it anyway, but in the mean time if you want me to try let me know, and be prepared for an inept performance." He added, "Chris didn't enjoy it much, and I always found it frustrating to get her to help me improve my technique, on anything I mean. Just for what it's worth."

Martha didn't say anything, but she cut off his babbling by pulling his head down and kissing him again. He slid his hands under her shirt, down at the small of her back, and just held her while they kissed. He nibbled her lips. She took the sides of his head in her hands as she kissed him. After a bit, he slid his hands around under her blouse to her breasts, cupping them, rubbing the nipples through her bra. She kissed him harder, but without the kind of urgency she'd showed Monday night.

After a few more minutes, she broke off and stepped back a little, and took hold of the hem of her top and started to pull it up. Scott grabbed her hands and stopped her. He kissed her again, briefly, and said, "Would you mind if I did that instead?"

She said, "Oh, Scott, would you?" and kissed him again, harder. He moved his hands back to her breasts, and soon moved around to the back and unclasped her bra strap. He cupped her breasts again, under the bra this time, and she moaned a little as he rubbed the nipples. He said, "Arms up, now," and pulled shirt and bra together over her head and off her arms. He kissed and fondled for a bit, and then sat her and then laid her back on the bed. He knelt at the side of the bed, and kissed her breasts, taking his time, first one then the other, with occasional time out to kiss her mouth. He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, also removing his pants, then moved her over so that he could lie down next to her.

Struck by a thought, he said, "Martha honey, I'm sorry to interrupt, but later won't be better. Where are those condoms?"

Lynda, who seemed to be watching intently, said, "I know, and I'll get you one." She opened a drawer in Martha's nightstand, and pulled out several wrapped condoms. Separating one, she put it on the corner of the nightstand.

He continued to kiss Martha, while his hands wandered over her upper body, focusing on her breasts. After a while, he unfastened her pants. She arched her back to lift her butt so that he could pull them down and off. She moaned as he caressed her breasts and as he rubbed at the crotch of her panties, which were sopping wet there. He slipped a finger under them and between her labia, and she moaned and panted a little. She put her hand on his and guided his fingers, and her agitation increased.

She looked at him and said, "Please, go on and take them off. If you want to use your tongue, go ahead, or else, please, get ready to come in now."

He slid her panties down and off. He moved off the bed, moving her legs over so that her vulva was at the edge of the bed. He tried to make sure he had enough saliva for lubrication, and kissed her right at the front, running his tongue back between the labia. She gasped and opened her legs wider. He continued licking and sucking gently. With all this there seemed to be plenty of lubrication, and he probed with his finger between the labia, and then entered her vagina.

He moved his finger in and out a little, and she moved with him, as he continued with his tongue and lips. She panted and moaned with each stroke. Abruptly, she sat up and reached for the condom. She tore it open and unwrapped it, then grabbed the waistband of Scott's briefs and pulled them down. He had to stop her for a moment while he got the waistband over the end of his painfully erect penis. She took him in her mouth for a moment, just the head, sucking and licking in a way that would have had him coming if she'd done it much longer, and then unrolled the condom onto him. She straddled him, on her knees, and guided him into place, moving him back and forth, finally sliding him in. She pushed down onto him steadily, and then shifted so that she was lying on top of him.

He pushed her up for a moment, enough that he could bend his head down and kiss her. He said, "Honey, tell me if I go too fast or too slow, or if I hurt you at all," and began thrusting in and out, over and over, and she moved in rhythm with him. Very quickly she began to moan and tense up, and to push him to move faster. Even with the condom her movements were getting him close to coming. He managed to gasp, "I can't hold back longer," a moment before he thrust in as deeply as he could and began ejaculating. When a moment later he pulled back, this only increased things, but at that point she too began to come. Even through the condom, the feel of her internal spasms was so intense as to be almost painful. He thrust back in all the way and held until she was through. She collapsed against him, gasping for breath.

"Martha, that was wonderful, even more than the first time." He hugged her and ran his hand down her back to her butt. "Thank you so much. I didn't expect that. Really."

She moved so that she could pull off him a little. "Tell me when you're ready for me to move more." He found the bottom of the condom and got a good enough grip on it. "Go ahead." She pulled off, took a couple of kleenex, and wiped herself off. She found her underwear and put her panties back on. Then she came over and removed the condom, tying the end shut and putting it in the wastebasket, and cleaned him off. He sat up, and she kissed him. They just stayed like that for a moment.

25. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

He looked over at Lynda, and was shocked. She was sitting there with her head bent over, looking mostly down, with tears running down and dripping off her face. She wasn't making a sound. He touched Martha's shoulder and gestured. She glanced over and looked shocked too.

Scott stood up and stepped over to Lynda, quickly,, though he did think to grab the box of kleenex first. He bent over and said, "Lynda, honey, what's wrong?" She looked up at him and said, "Oh, Scott, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I—" and burst into uncontrollable sobbing.

His first impulse was to hug her, but he suddenly realized that whether this was comforting to her would depend a lot on just what was wrong. Being hugged by a very much larger, very naked man might make things worse, a lot worse.

He got onto one knee to ease his back a bit, handed her some kleenex, and tried to think what he could say or do that wouldn't be too stupid at this point. He finally said, "Lynda, I really don't know what's wrong or what I can do to help. I know you can't really talk just now. I'll try to stick to yes-no questions, but I know the answers may not be quite that simple. Just try to keep it brief, as much as you can, and if yes or no is right it's fine just to nod or shake your head. Can you manage that?"

She nodded, and said, "I'll try," which was quite an accomplishment when she was sobbing so hard.

He said, "OK. Are you crying because you've suddenly realized that you can't go through with kissing me and having me touch you?"

She looked startled, and said, "No! I want you to!" before dissolving into sobs again.

Scott wasn't quite sure what to make of this, but the position he was in was really uncomfortable, so he asked, "In that case, is it OK if I move you? This is hard on my back and knees." She nodded vigorously. So he leaned forward and picked her up, stood up (with a little difficulty, though she really didn't weigh a lot), sat down on the stool, and set her on his lap. "Is this OK for you?" he said. Again she nodded, but continued sobbing. He got more kleenex and wiped her face.

He decided to ask a couple more questions. "You're crying, and you were saying you were sorry. You weren't apologizing for crying, were you?"

She shook her head. "Oh, no." He said, "Good! I know some people are bothered by people crying. As far as I'm concerned, if you're crying from honest emotion, not trying to manipulate someone or lie to someone or anything like that, go ahead and cry. I would hate to have you think you needed my permission, or to apologize to me. Don't ever do that, please.

"I think just one or two more questions for right now, though I may come up with more. First, are you crying for the same thing you're apologizing for, whatever that is?" She nodded very vigorously indeed. "Then, is it something we need to talk about now, tonight?" She answered, "Yes."

Her sobs were definitely reduced, but he thought that the wrong question, or trying to discuss whatever was bothering her, would turn the taps on high again. So he said, "Then we need to wait until you can calm down enough to talk, however long that takes, and you'll have to be the one to say you're ready. Now, if it will help, you can keep sitting here like this. I may have to shift around a little from time to time, but we can just sit for a long time. But maybe it would help you more if you got up and did something, maybe got a drink, washed your face, went to the bathroom, whatever. What will help you more?"

She told him, "Please, let me stay here. I'll try to calm down." So he just sat, holding her in his lap.

Except that it wasn't that simple. He'd forgotten that he wasn't wearing anything. And sitting with this beautiful woman in his lap was having an effect on him. The fact that she was crying made him feel all protective toward her, which just magnified the effect. So he was very erect and hard, and leaking onto her skirt. He tried to ignore this, as he was afraid that saying or doing anything would set her off again, and it seemed a bit late.

Finally she began to really run down. She took more kleenex, wiped her eyes and blew her nose, and put her arms around him with her face against him. She stayed that way for a little while—which seemed like a lot longer to him—and then sat up and looked at him.

"You told me not to apologize for crying, but I'm going to anyway. I'm sorry that I fell apart like that, and I think I can talk OK now." She didn't sound fully in control of her breathing, but she wasn't sobbing, and if she was crying at all, at least the tears weren't running down her face. He held her and waited.

"Scott, will you promise me something first?" She waited. At the risk of setting her off again, he said, "I'm afraid I can't promise without knowing what it is."

She took a couple of deep breaths. "Of course you wouldn't do that. If you promise, you'll feel bound to do it, even if it's wrong or really stupid, won't you?

"What it is, is this. I've, I'm, I'm afraid I've, I've done something that may have destroyed the whole deal. And I'll tell you about it, I've got to. But would you promise that even if the whole deal is over, you'll make love to me once anyway, like you just did to Martha? Please!"

Scott was taken aback. What on earth could she have done? It had only been two days, and he couldn't imagine what opportunity she'd had to do anything serious! And somehow she wanted sex with him, too? He said, "It's hard for me to imagine that I wouldn't be willing. But how can I promise that without knowing?" She looked like she might start sobbing again. He quickly added, "Let me think for a moment."

He thought again, what could she have possibly done? He couldn't come up with anything! Finally he said, "Whatever you've done, is it something that will cost me or the company a lot of money? Or has already?" She shook her head. "Or, I don't know, will injure someone, or has?"

She said, "Oh. Nothing like that."

"Or is it going to somehow damage my reputation, or the company's, or maybe I should just say anyone's? Or get me, or the company, in legal trouble—with the government, or lawsuits, or whatever?"

"No. I'm sorry, I guess I should just have explained without asking you to promise. I never thought that you'd worry about things like those."

"It's OK, Lynda. I think I can promise what you asked. I've just had to imagine what might make you think you needed to ask for that promise.

"In fact, it's kind of late for it, but I'm afraid you need to wait just a moment to tell me anything, while I tell you something. Um. I'm afraid I may have kind of ruined the skirt you're wearing."

She looked down. In spite of everything, she laughed. "It will wash!" She reached down and stroked his penis. "I only hope you still look like that when I'm done telling you."

"I'm sure the skirt will wash, but experience tells me that there may still be stains. Will you please promise me that if there are, you'll buy yourself something similar and tell me how much it is?"

"If you need me to, I will. But it seems pretty ridiculous. If I hadn't been crying like that, it wouldn't have happened, so it's my own fault. But I promise. And I'm sure it will wash clean with no trouble anyway.

"I think I need to give you some background. I want you to understand why this happened, but I know that why doesn't really matter, I was wrong any way you look at it." She took another deep breath. "Remember, you made us promise to be completely honest with you? And you said if we, if I, well, cheated you or double-crossed you in any way, the deal was off, and you'd tie me up and beat me or whatever, or take pictures and post them around?"

"Wait a minute. I said I'd feel free to do those things, not that I'd necessarily do them. And I can't think of anything at all that you could have done that would make me want to, that isn't covered by what you just told me you haven't done. You may surprise me with something I haven't thought of, but I really think you can stop worrying about those things, for now at least."

"Scott, if you think you need to tie me up and gag me and beat me, when I'm done, I promise I won't try to stop you, or ever complain about it. I deserve it. But I'll hold you to what you promised me, too.

"Anyway. Then you talked about needing us to really cooperate with you, and I promised I would. And I lied to you right then. I thought, I can do enough to make him happy, but I'm not even going to try to mean it."

"Stop right there. I know I told you that I didn't—I couldn't and wouldn't—require you to feel anything in particular. How could I? You can't just tell yourself what to feel! And I have to point out that I didn't expect you to act like you mean it while you sucked on me, or while I was inside your butt. Whatever that might mean in that context! Aside from a couple of encounters with your teeth—which I trust won't be repeated!—you did everything I expected and asked for. And far more, when it came to anal sex. And I haven't asked you for anything else yet, not even one kiss. So whatever you thought at the time, you haven't done anything yet for me to object to."

She hugged him close for a moment. "Scott, thank you. I didn't see it that way, but you're right, you did say something like that.

"But that's not the real problem, that's still mostly just background. When you sent me out for the pizza, I was in a real snit. I don't know why, I really don't understand it, and I mean that. But I resented your example about lying down on the floor, I resented Martha kissing you, I resented you sending me for the pizza while you sat with Martha in your lap. Not that I'd have enjoyed it if you'd sent her and put me in your lap! And all that was totally wrong. Martha chewed me out Monday night for my attitude, and I jumped on her for it, but she was a hundred percent right." She turned to look at Martha, who was still sitting on the bed mostly undressed. "I'm sorry, everything you said was on target. I don't know why I've been so bitchy to you both for two whole days."

She looked back at Scott. He was afraid she might start crying again. "The whole thing was my idea in the first place, you just changed your mind and said yes. Yes, you added Martha, and I resented you telling her about what I'd said, but you did exactly what you'd promised. You didn't say anything to her about me until things had changed, and you did warn me before you said anything. And even if you'd just agreed to her offer and told me to go away, you'd have owed it to her to tell her. And you had apologized for your choice of example, which you didn't mean personally anyway. Martha said you made the example be about me because I was the one showing attitude problems, and I'm sure she was right about that, too. I sure was."

She took a couple of deep breaths.

"But anyway, you gave me the money for the pizzas and told me to put the change in the tip jar. But I didn't. I stole it from you. I stuck it in my pocket. And I'd just promised to be totally honest with you, and you'd warned me about deceiving you in any way. So if you want, the deal's off and it's my fault. I know you care about keeping your promises, and I hope you'll keep the one you just made to me, and you can do whatever you want to me afterward, and I'll know I deserve it." She sounded about ready to cry again.