The Humper Game Pt. 07 Ch. 02

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WilCox49
WilCox49
159 Followers

"But somehow they both loosened up enough that the Monday rehearsal went OK. They both got a lot of critique, which didn't exactly help even if it was on target, but everybody there agreed that they should go on in the roles. It was just that everyone also said, 'But you'll still have to do better than that!'"

Pete put in, "Bill wasn't one of my buds, but I heard about it from some friends who were involved, cast and crew both. That's exactly how it was. They'd been ready to drop the bomb, before, and now they just looked like they were embarrassed—like any random guy and girl having to play something like that in front of a lot of wise guys. It wasn't ready for prime time, but neither was the rest of the play."

Tammy laughed. "Mary's other friends and I sure heard about it. She vented all over us, for a couple of weeks more. But as time went on, we heard from her and other friends too that everyone agreed that the scene was good enough. And she was proud of both of them. And then, a little later yet, you could have knocked me over with a feather when she said to all of us, 'You know, Bill's not really as much of a jerk as I thought.' She went on, 'He's trying really hard, and he's trying to help me, to make me look good, every step of the way. And when I think about that, I see I've got to do that for him, too.'"

Pete stuck in again, "And everyone was telling them how to play it, but all different things. 'Put your arms around his neck.' 'No, wait a little longer—you start out a little reluctant.' 'Bill, move your hands down from her waist to her hips.' On and on like that. So every time they rehearsed that scene, they had to go through at least the kiss part a bunch of times."

Tammy laughed again, and pretty much everyone else did, then. "Well, we all saw it, and the kiss did kind of steal the show. They did great! But by that time, it wasn't all acting any more. Mary told us that for weeks before the performance weekend, she was, um, having to wear something she didn't usually at those times of the month, so that she didn't have to worry about wet spots showing on her clothes. She was really and truly that hot practicing that scene, artificial as the whole thing was. And, um, she got her first introduction to what it felt like to have something hard pushing into her when a guy kissed her. I don't know what he did to avoid wet spots on his costume.

"But Pete, I'm really sorry I didn't think all this through back then. They started off with no attraction whatever. Zero. If he felt any physical arousal, it sure didn't show, and he kept it to himself. By the end, her feelings changed. Big time. They weren't ever best friends, spending all their time together, but they were on good terms and sometimes did stuff together for the fun of it, and they even went out on dates a few times. Both of them developed other romantic interests, but they were friends. And I'm sorry I didn't say to myself, 'Pete's way nicer than Bill. If she can do it, I can at least try,' and drag you off to a dark corner and say, 'Maybe I can change my feelings, too.' I just never made the connection before."

We did go over and take a nap for the afternoon. Yes, of course we made love before the nap, and after it too. Both on the wedding night and that afternoon, Ellen didn't work to restrain her vocalizations. It was plain enough that any such noises would be appreciated, not resented, and even when she didn't try to mute her noise, Ellen was nowhere near as loud as Sam or Jenny or several others. Mia and Tom, and very definitely Pete and Tammy—and Paul and Mary if they were still there—all wanted us to be making the most of our honeymoon, and so in context this was a way of thanking them.

We got up in time to wake up somewhat and eat a light supper. Leftovers from dinner had been pressed on us, and we ate those. We sat up for a while, and I read to Ellen, but we went back to bed pretty early. Sometime during that week we actually slept through the whole night, but not that night.

In fact, that night, the first time, I made up for her request on the wedding night. I used my mouth on her, but I teased her. Whenever she started to get really close, I backed off some, enough that she didn't come. By the second time, she was pleading with me to stop that, what she wanted wasn't foreplay, it was me. Her pleas got louder as we went along, and around the fourth time I did let her come. Then I moved up beside her, pulled her on top of me, and went straight in. She came again almost right after that, and once more, when I finally came too.

She still wasn't as loud as Sam and Jenny were naturally, but she was louder than she had been the night before—when she had been trying to be loud. Those orgasms were more violent and extended than her usual, and her attention sure wasn't on trying to control herself. She wasn't loud enough to hurt my ears, but I was confident she was audible in the main house, and I thought people were still awake.


In the morning, as we ate breakfast, Ellen said to me, "Phil, listen. What you started off with last night—I hate it when you're making me wait and wait, except that when you finally let me come it's so good it makes up for it. Just, please don't do that to me very often. Um. With you, anything, even if you decide to do that twice every night—but really, please, don't. Every six months, say, it would be wonderful. But you know, if somehow I never could come again, ever, but I got to have you make love to me every night, I would be happy with just that. You know that, don't you?"

And a bit later, she said, "Saturday night, I was just a little worried that you meant you were going to spank me if I took too long. You didn't, did you?"

"On our wedding night? That never entered my head. I suppose that if you had dawdled and dawdled on purpose, say, modeling all those see-through nighties and underwear maybe, just to tease me, I eventually might have. You remember what I promised to spank you for, if you do it, don't you?" She nodded. "Well, it would take something like that. Um. You're not hinting that you want to be spanked, are you?"

She looked surprised, and then said, "No! If you suddenly were wanting to spank me, I'd be kind of worried. I would try to learn to enjoy it, I guess." She looked at me very seriously. "And if it were something like what you just mentioned, seriously breaking one of my vows, or not trusting you to do what you've promised—in a case like that, I might even welcome it as a sign that you care enough about me not to just whitewash over it. I would hate the spanking, I think, but it would reassure me, too. I wouldn't complain or try to get out of it.

"But as far as the kind of thing you hear about sometimes, where a man uses something like that to prove that he can dominate a woman—I'd probably think I needed to leave you, if it kept happening. 'With you, anything.' 'Love, honor, and obey.' 'Till death.' I mean those things, really and truly and completely—but I could promise them just because I knew I could trust you not to ask things without good reason. You know that, don't you?"

"I do. And it seems some women feel the need to dominate men that way, too. Your being willing to submit to me, to promise it and do it, that's a gift from you I hope I'll never abuse. Or take for granted, but I probably will do that, sometimes. If I do and you see it, you say something. I mean that!

"But anyway, Saturday night I meant exactly what I had said, and no more. Or, I guess I was teasing, just a little. But you told me you didn't want me to wait for you to come, before I went in. You were exactly right, I had been planning to try to give you some pleasure before I went in—I was expecting to come too fast. And yes, I didn't really want to wait for that, but I really wanted it to be good for you. I should have just said something like, 'If you're that eager, then see that you get ready fast.' That's really all I meant. Except I did mean it, a little—if I'd thought you were delaying deliberately, I'd have insisted that you come three or four times first. The specific time limit wasn't meant seriously.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have teased you like that, because it did sound like I was serious."

That was probably the place to end that discussion, but suddenly I had a couple of afterthoughts. "Listen, Ellen. About spanking. If something else comes up, like what we've already discussed—that I think I'd need to be that drastic if it kept coming up, I'd expect to do as I did with that one, and warn you ahead of time. And I'm sure you're all right with that, as long as we can discuss it at the time of warning.

"But I can imagine, in general terms, your doing something of that kind, but so serious I might think I'd need to start in without warning. This is pretty theoretical. I'm having trouble coming up with an example, especially one I can imagine you doing, and I really don't think that's worth worrying about.

"But there's one more thing. You know how I hate getting angry enough to goad me into something. It's come up, though—you've heard me more than once say that I don't think I'd have had the courage to go out alone to try to rescue Maggie, if anger at Wagner hadn't just boiled over. Please notice that I wasn't exactly in a berserker rage or anything like that! I didn't fight Mr. Williams at all when he grabbed me, and I was incredibly relieved that someone else was on the job.

"But still, I can just barely imagine being so mad at you that I just up and hit you. I really hope it would be a spanking, not fists to your head or body! And it's really far-fetched, but if, say, I found out you were being unfaithful with someone, I'd be really mad. And if you just calmly admitted it and said you planned to keep it up no matter what I said or did—I really can imagine going berserk." I couldn't look at her as I confessed this, much less meet her eyes, and I was nearly in tears.

And Ellen stepped up to me, and said, "Phil! Look at me! If I ever, ever do something like that, I'll say right now that I deserve anything you do to me in anger. I'm sure I'll do things that will get to you, pretty hard, but I am not one bit worried about your flying into that kind of rage. And you stop worrying about faint possibilities that don't have anything to do with you and me!

"What I said the first time goes for anything reasonable. If I'm forgetting all the things I've promised you, to the extent that you think you need to warn me like that, you do it! If I keep doing it—whatever it is—in spite of a warning, you go ahead and do what you have promised, and I mean that! If I think you're being unreasonable, we'll talk, and the time to talk is when you warn me. But I know you, so the only reason to even think about it is that it's somehow got you bent out of shape!"

She kissed me at length, and, um, one thing led to another, and she managed to make me forget what I had been worrying about.

And that, too, was probably a good place to drop it. This time, though, I wasn't the one who brought it up. Later on that morning, Ellen said to me, "Phil, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought spanking up in the first place, earlier. And on that, I think we both know where we stand. But something you said about it is really bothering me, so we need to talk about that.

"You've mentioned several times, to lots of people in fact, how bothered you are that you were so angry with Wagner, when you went out to try to protect Maggie. Even though you thought you needed to do that, and you admit right off that you probably needed that anger to make you able to do it.

"From what you said, you're bothered because you really are afraid you'll feel that kind of rage again sometime, and it may, well, get hold of you and make you do things that are wrong. Is that pretty much right?"

"That's right, for sure." I wasn't heading for collapse, this time, but it felt a little like it. I was so ashamed of how much Wagner had gotten to me.

"Phil, use your head! Look at what happened, and what you did. You had every reason to be furious at Wagner and his friends, and you were. You controlled yourself for over three years. I know one whole set of reasons for that was practical. Retaliating, even just by calling him the kind of names he deserved, wouldn't have helped. It might have gotten you in trouble, and in fact it would have showed him he'd gotten to you and probably encouraged him to go after you more. Nonetheless, all that's not what mattered. You thought then—and you think now—that vengeance is wrong, and that the kind of attitude that stores wrongs up for payback is wrong. Sam probably gave you as much reason for anger, and the moment she came to you asking for forgiveness—seriously asking!—you responded to that. In fact, when you saw the changes in her, before that, you were already worried about what would happen to her! Think about it!

"You had more reason than ever to be furious at them, because of what they did to Maggie. You did what you could to help her, and you brought what they'd done to Mr. Miles's attention, but you did all that because it needed to be done, not to settle a score.

"When—and only when!—your anger might accomplish something you needed to do, you let yourself feel it. If you'd actually had to attack Wagner to save Maggie, you might well have let the anger take over, but that would have been appropriate, too.

"I've never once seen you let anger drive you to something you shouldn't do. When I jumped on you and stormed down to my apartment without being willing to listen, you had great cause for anger. You wouldn't have had to break the door down to confront me—you had your own key. And you didn't even use that.

"To get so enraged that you take it out on me, the way you were worrying about, you would have to become a totally different kind of person. If that happens, we'll deal with it, one way or another. People sometimes do change that much—look at Sam, or Barbara. But I know you very, very well, well enough to know I can trust you.

"If you want to worry about things that much, worry about this: If Elise hadn't been responding to a momentary impulse, if she'd really understood you and had also been a devious woman, she might have entrapped you in spite of your promise to me. All your experiences to that point had trained you to care about women, and to respond to them with—with romantic affection and sex if they needed comforting. I have no doubt that at that point, the right woman going after you with a solid understanding of you—and enough time!—might have caught you.

"I know that by now that's not much of a danger at all. All kinds of things have changed, but one big one is that you were willing to stay in bed with me, night after night, for six months and more, without sex. That's training of a different kind, and you passed that test.

"So I really do mean it! We can come up with all kinds of logical possibilities—totally improbable ones—for disaster, based on your weakness or mine. OK. But not one of them is worth a second thought. Will you please let all those things go?"

She kissed me at some length, which really is not a fair technique in a discussion like that. On the other hand, thinking about my feelings toward Wagner really had been worrying me, and what she said made sense.

Around lunch time, we went over to the house, taking the dishes we'd washed—the serving dishes, that is. Mia said, "I know Tammy told you to just bring your dishes over for the dishwasher. I heard her." We could see that she really was serious, that she didn't want us feeling we needed to wash our dishes, so we promised we'd remember in the future—meaning we'd do it. I thought about pointing out that Tammy had only said we could do that, not that we needed to, but decided not to.

She fixed lunch—soup and sandwiches—and we sat and talked to her as we ate together. She asked us questions—and listened carefully to the answers—but as I'd already seen, Mia talked a lot. We heard about how she and Tom had met—before they were grown—and been high-school sweethearts.

Paul and Mary had been Tom's and her best friends, respectively, and had double-dated with Mia and Tom a lot. Except that she made clear that this was a misleading description. She and Tom had been concerned about getting too intimate, so for the most part they had avoided doing too much alone as a couple, and they had dragged these two friends to things with them. Toward the end of high school, and through their college years, they had found that they all enjoyed squaredancing and then contradancing, so they had done that together a lot.

When her big brother had lost his fascination with rock and roll—that's how she put it—and started playing an upright bass at bluegrass and old-time jams, she had pushed him to start playing for dances. That had given them even more incentive to go dancing, and Jim had been good enough that he soon was in demand.

As soon as they were out of college and Tom had a job, they had gotten married. And sometime early in college, Paul and Mary had come to their senses—her description, again—and realized they were right for each other, too.

"You understand, we were all from believing families, and we all believed ourselves," she told us. "We all wanted to come to marriage pure. That wasn't always easy, but we could help each other. So I can imagine how hard it was for you, to be living together and then to stop being intimate, for months and months—but still living together. All the desire we felt for each other, on top of—of specific knowledge of what you were putting aside. I admire you for it.

"And I know Pete and Tammy admire you, not just for that but for a lot more. I didn't entirely understand everything they said about studying, but I got that they're suddenly learning a lot more from their classes, and I know they hadn't been blowing them off before that. And that's on top of gratitude for helping them—um. Deal with what had been keeping them apart. I know I'm beating around the bush. I'm sorry for that. I never suspected that Tammy was interested in other girls, that way. Now I can think of all kinds of little signs I might have noticed, but she really worked to keep it hidden."

I broke in to say, "There's plenty to be proud of in how she tried to handle it. But you have lots of reason to be proud of Pete, especially. You understand, he loved Tammy, he wanted her all the time, and he put himself into situations that turned him on without any expectation of ever getting any satisfaction—because he really loved her. He was really heroic."

Mia said, "I knew that, but I really hadn't thought of it in those terms. Thank you!"

Somewhere in there, she said—with a twinkle in her eye, you might say—she said, "We could hear that you really enjoyed yourselves last night, at bedtime. I'm glad to know things are that good."

Ellen laughed at me. "Saturday night, I sure enjoyed it, too, but I know I wasn't as loud—even though I tried to be. Maybe I might have been naturally loud—for sure not like some I know, though—but from our first time, we didn't want to draw a lot of attention. Phil is a little shy about that. Well, I am too, I guess. And we both don't want to disturb our neighbors.

"But last night, he teased me, bringing me near but not letting me come until I was getting frantic. I was so ready that when he let me, it happened right away—over and over, as I'm sure you noticed—but it was also so good that I was overwhelmed. He's promised not to do that to me too much, because it's so frustrating while he's teasing—but to do it once in a while, because it's so good in the end. And yes, we don't want to disturb you too much, but we really hope it was an appropriate way to say thank you to you. Letting us be here for the week is just wonderful, and we really do thank you!"

WilCox49
WilCox49
159 Followers