Rooming With RoseAnn Pt. 16

Barry assembles the Altar of Yoni, and Gloria stops by

The 'Altar of Yoni' chair fortuitously arrived on the Friday afternoon, after I'd returned from the campus, but hours before RoseAnn was expected home.

I opened the apartment door to two unkempt men pulling the chair up the steps on a two-wheeled dolly. I looked over their shoulders, expecting to see 'Jane Austen's Revenge' in big bold letters on the side of the truck, announcing our kinks to all our neighbors. But their van was only a delivery service with a nondescript 'something brothers' name stenciled on the doors. Discreetly packaged, the chair looked like any other recliner, wrapped in multiple layers of plastic. A box of parts came with it, identified only by the words 'accessories', 'box 2 of 2' and a few numbers. I supposed it would contain the foot supports and kneeling pad.

The men offered to unpack it, but I asked them to leave it in the bedroom and dismissed them with a ten-dollar tip.

The chair looked like any other recliner, except for brass inserts where parts were to be bolted onto it. When I opened the accessories box, however, out spilled a pile of steel rods, hinges, bags of bolts and washers, the kneeling pad, and the two platforms. Every three inches or so along the platforms were attached rubber crescents, whose function, I now knew, was to hold a woman's heels at whatever angle allowed best access without her feet slipping. Looking at the rubber crescents, and wondering which ones RoseAnn would use, caused my cock to stiffen in my shorts.

The book of directions turned out to be a nightmare. The figures were all labeled in Japanese, and the text was a terrible translation, I assumed, from the Japanese.

'To need tool like screwdriver Philip, plyers, bent wrench lined up.' Easy enough to understand.

'Foot 1. Rod 22 two kinds one side or other side the same, enter coupling 45. Twist nuts.'

Well, there was no way I was going to twist my nuts doing this. I decided to just experiment. I turned to the last page, where I hoped to find a picture of the fully assembled chair. I found it, all right--the chair in the photo was in use by a Japanese couple. The woman lay with her eyes closed, her mouth open in ecstasy. Between her legs, the man kneeled, his face half hidden in the biggest forest of pubic hair I'd ever seen. As he knelt on the lowered pad, his penis thrust uselessly into a large opening in the front of the chair, which appeared to have been left uncovered specifically to frustrate the man, should he try to stimulate his engorged cock on the fabric. I hadn't noticed this feature at the store, and I smiled at the cleverness of the engineer who'd designed this contraption, this 'Altar of Yoni'.

Using the pictures and my own mechanical sense, I gradually deciphered the structure, sometimes having to back up several steps to insert a neglected washer or locking pin. The kneeling pad was connected by spring hinges to the chair; when not in use, it folded up against the chair, covering the gaping hole in the front.

I was still struggling, but with success in sight, when a female voice came from the living room. "Hello? Barry? Is anyone home?" I glanced at my watch. Four-thirty. Who would that be?

I finally recognized the voice...Gloria!

I jumped to my feet and raced from the bedroom to intercept the red-headed beauty in the kitchen. I was still semi-erect and felt my face flush. "Oh, hi! You surprised me. Where did you come from?"

"I was beginning to think I had the wrong address, what with the 'Perez' nameplate, but I looked through the window and saw your briefcase on the table."

My visual cortex still buzzed with images of rods and bearings and bolts, "Can I fix you some coffee?" I stammered.

"That would be nice." So far, she hadn't glanced at the front of my shorts. Surely, there would be a wet spot there.

I faced the counter to hide my erection as I fumbled with the beans and grinder. "What brings you by? I mean, you're welcome and all. I just wondered."

She made an offhand shrug. "I just wanted to see how you were surviving here in the slums."

"We found some tar paper and sticks so we could add on another room," I said. That made her giggle.

"You've got grease on your hands."

I hadn't noticed. My hands were filthy from handling the chair fittings. I squirted some dish soap onto my palm and started rubbing the grease away. "I was just assembling some furniture."

Gloria was examining a photo on the wall. "This your aunt? She's very beautiful, and way younger than I expected."

I occupied myself rinsing the soap and grease from my hands and struggled for the words to say what needed to be said.

"Just you and your aunt living here?"

Here goes...

I said it so quickly, it came out almost as a single word. "She's not my aunt. We're lovers. She's thirty-seven. I lied to you before. I'm sorry." My face felt even hotter than before.

Gloria continued to stare at the photograph, apparently unfazed, and finally said, "She's a lucky woman. But you didn't have to say it like you're ashamed of her. You're not ashamed, are you?"

"No, but some people--maybe most people--wouldn't understand. I've known her since this spring, but nothing happened between us until I moved here."

"Just three weeks ago? A whirlwind romance, then?"

"I guess I'm only ashamed because I lied to you."

"You're forgiven," she said, smiling. "I think I understand why it'd be a problem. But I've been confused until now. You've been so attentive to me. I was waiting for you to make the next move, and nothing was happening. I hoped we'd get something going, but..."

"I was attracted to you from the start..." I began, but Gloria was wandering toward the bedrooms. I had to stop her. "Coffee's almost ready," I announced, in a loud voice.

"I want to see where you work." She was outside RoseAnn's bedroom now. "What's this?"

"That's the furniture I'm putting together. You should come back in the kitchen now."

"What kind of chair is that? It's got funny..." Her voice cut off abruptly. When I caught up with her and took her elbow, she pulled away, staring down at the assembly manual, lying open on the floor. The full-page photo of the Japanese couple engaged in oral pleasure was impossible to miss.

"Oh my Lord," she said breathlessly, and let me lead her back to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry you saw that."

Her freckled face flushed bright red. "When I said she was a lucky woman, I was wrong," she breathed. "She's a very lucky woman."

I looked at my watch. "If you'll have that cup of coffee with me, you'll be able to tell her that yourself."

She looked at me and swallowed hard. "I'd better go, then. I'm not sure I could pretend I didn't see that."

She retrieved her purse from the kitchen table and headed for the door. Before leaving, she turned to me. "This will be our secret," she said. "I don't gossip about friends."

"Thank you."

"Not all romances last forever," she said. "You never know. Maybe someday..."

She was blushing again, and I stepped forward and took both her hands between mine and gazed once more into those wonderful green eyes. "You're my best friend on campus," I said. "I don't want that to change."

"The other reason I came over was to find out if you were coming to our beer bash tonight. I was going to offer you a ride."

"I might go," I said. "I've got the address..."

"Yes, but now I think you might have important business here at home." She smiled weakly and nodded in the general direction of the bedroom. "Furniture testing. If you don't show, I'll make your excuses." And then she was gone, pulling the front door closed behind her.

Through the window, I watched her walk to her car, just as RoseAnn's BMW pulled up in front of the garage. Under the floor, the door mechanism rumbled. Surely, RoseAnn had seen Gloria leaving. The next few minutes were going to be interesting.