The Slut, Marked

I woke with a start, the next morning. She startled awake, too.

"What time is it?" I asked her.

"'bout 9:20. You got somewhere to be?"

"No, but my mother will be worried."

"Weally? My big Wanger Wob has to be woweed about his mommy?"

"Not funny. I'm what she's got. And it's bad enough I went and joined the Army. Now I disappeared... Where's the phone?"

She pointed. I got up and dialed.

"Hi mom. It's me... No, I'm all right... No I didn't get arrested... No I'm not drunk... Well, there's this girl and we were talking all night and I -- we fell asleep... No mom. Asleep, like, as in sleeping. With snoring and stuff... Yes, she snores a bit... 'Cause we were sleeping... Well, I'll ask her... Yes, I'm still in her room. I called as soon as I woke up... Yes I know... wait a minute.

"Lyn, are you free for a command performance... I mean, for coming over to my house this evening?"

"Um. Well, I have an... no. I mean yes. I can be free. I just have to make a phone call."

I knew what that meant. She had scheduled another gang-bang. I got back on the phone call to Mom.

"Yeah, she can make it... Okay. 5:00 is fine... Yes, I'll be home before that... Okay, bye."

Then she got on the phone.

"Hi. It's Carolyn... Well, I'm not going to be able to make it tonight... No, it's not... Not them either... It's not anybody... Listen, I'll make it up to you guys... All right, then how about Saturday. I can come over all day... Sure, ten it is... See ya then... All right, I will."

I listened to the whole thing. I heard her setting up yet another gang-bang. I knew that I still wanted her, but I didn't know if I could stand this. This wasn't just a gang-bang, it was more like a gang-machine-gun-blast.

I grabbed my windbreaker and headed for the door. "I'm going home to change and stuff. I'll see ya back at about 4:30. ... You know," I said, pulling the door shut behind me, "you could have waited to make that phone call until I was gone."

...

At 4:30 I was knocking on her door again. It was opened promptly. She looked good, excellent, superb. I could go on. She wore a red silk (or something like it, but with her money, I'd bet on silk) blouse that had a Chinesey kind of collar (you know, like Mao always wore), a loose schoolgirl-style skirt that was about knee length, and simple heels -- they looked to be about two inches. She set it off with a single strand of pearls and matching earrings. She wore no makeup (or so it seemed to me anyway) and pale caramel rose lipstick (What do I know about colors? I'm a guy. I believe in the eight basic colors of the Windows palette.)

Anyway, she looked great. I took a snapshot (which I still have on my iPad). She looked great. So naturally, I insulted her. I didn't mean to, it just came out.

"Wow. You look great. Really wonderful. I haven't seen you look this good with your clothes on, ever."

I meant it as a compliment.

The smile was wiped off her face as she apparently was reminded of the gang-bangs I'd seen. She said, "Oh. Good. Let's go then. We don't want to be late."

I was wearing a navy blue blazer, chinos and a pale blue dress shirt. (I still have that shirt, six years later. Never did want to give up that link to that first 'date.') Typical semi-formal gear for a GI -- what did I know?

I'd had to undergo the third degree from Mom all morning and afternoon. By now, she knew that Lyn had money. ("Don't you take a penny from that girl. No matter what. You'll make your own way. It'll poison things if you do. Mark my words.") Although I didn't tell her how much money. She'd have been floored.

Mom also knew that I met her at a fraternity party. That she seemed to be somewhat promiscuous. Mom said, "So what. She's a college girl. She wants to have fun." I didn't go into details about how extreme a definition of 'fun' Carolyn had.

She knew that I had just met her a few days ago. ("And you already had a sleep-over!") Most importantly, I had never brought any woman, girl, or female of any description home for Mom to meet. She asked me if I was serious about her. I said I could be, but I was a one-woman man, and I didn't know if she could settle down. Plus, I pointed out, I was going in the Rangers, so I wasn't sure it'd be right for me to ask it of anybody. ("You'll know if it's right. If it's right, it's right. Don't let the Rangers scare you from finding out.")

We had a nice roasted chicken for dinner, and I won't bore you with the details. After dinner Mom got out the scrapbooks. She had been waiting for ever to embarrass me with baby pictures and growing up pictures. Me naked in a bathtub. Me on my first bike. Me and Dad with a red wagon. He had died of a stroke when I was only eleven. That was a sad time, said Mom. An ultra scrawny me in a swim suit. Me in a cub scout uniform. Et cetera.

I stayed in the room and didn't begrudge her a moment of showing off how nice her Robbie had turned out. It was a Mom moment. I smiled at her doing all of it. I thought for a moment what Lyn's scrapbook would be like. Pictures of her winning prizes in horse jumping shows, no doubt.

I excused myself at some point to use the loo, and paused to eavesdrop before coming back.

Mom was saying, "You know, he's never brought a girl -- a woman, home before. He's been on plenty of dates, you know. So he must think you're something special. You seem to be a nice girl -- excuse me, a woman. Everybody seems to be so young from my point of view."

"That's all right. I'm more girl than woman, I think," said Carolyn.

"Well okay then. Maybe you're not ready to settle down with one guy just yet. But maybe you are. I just don't want to see my Robbie get hurt. Please, don't take him as just another plaything. If you hurt him, I'll hurt you. I swear I will."

That was enough of that! I made some noise in the hallway and interrupted that little pow-wow.

Mom was pushing fifty now. Wonder what she'd do with the situation I expected to find at home. Sigh.

...

I dropped Carolyn off at her dorm, and intentionally didn't see her the next day. I did call and thank her for being so nice when we were at Mom's house, and all. We talked for nearly an hour. But I didn't see her at all.

I went over to the same frat house at nine the next day. This was supposed to be Lyn's "all day-er" at the frat house, scheduled for ten a.m. I grabbed Will, my bud at the frat, and asked him to do me a favor. Just something special I wanted to do as they kicked things off today.

He seemed to be surprised that I even knew about it, but when I asked for it and explained, he agreed. It seemed that he was the 'contact' for this and was in charge of arranging things.

When Lyn got there, I was out of sight in another room. She was shown into the mattress room, after disrobing of course, and she was ready. There were ten guys in the room. Will said they had a brief surprise for her. They handed her a blindfold, and put her down on the floor, in her usual doggie-fuck position. That's when I came in.

I didn't even strip, just unzipped and got behind her. With my feet planted alongside her hips, I pushed into her cunt. Sorry, but that's what it was. If she was going to pull a train, it wasn't a pussy, or her sex, or any other damn euphemism. It was a cunt.

I pushed in with one long, slow push. When I was all the way in, I could feel the spongy button that was her cervix. Still seated, I reached forward and pinched her nipples gently. And then I pulled out.

But I didn't move. I just slid my dick up a couple of inches and gave her a long slow push into her ass. She fucked back at me, it might have been surprise or it might have been enjoyment. I reached around her hips and rubbed her clitty a bit and gave it a little pinch too.

"Oooh," she moaned. "I'm liking this surprise."

Then I pulled out again, and started to walk around to her head.

"Let me guess," she said with a laugh. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue.

She must have smelled her own scent, 'cause I watched her nostrils flare. I slid my ass-flavored dick onto her tongue. Then into her mouth. When I hit the back of her throat, my hands held her head like I had before, and kept pushing. When I was deep in her throat and pulling her head even further towards me, she knew.

She knew. And she didn't like it. She scrabbled up and threw off her mask. She looked at me with upturned eyes. I had cut off her airflow, like last time, but it was only a brief second.

I pulled out of her mouth again and took a step back. That caused her to lose her balance briefly, and I took the opportunity to zip up. "Have fun, Lyn," I said as I walked to the door.

"No you don't your bastard!" she shouted at my back, as she scrambled to her feet.

Have you ever seen that painting of Saint Somebody-or-other being attacked by a naked woman -- a siren or something? No? Well, check your art book. It's there. I was walking down the hall toward the stairs and she was one step behind me, pummeling my back with her fists.

"What are you doing here? Motherfucker! You don't get to..."

Then I was headed down the steps, so her blows were landing on my shoulders and my head. I turned to face her and took a shot to my left eye before I got control of her arms.

"Calm down. I didn't do anything that you weren't going to give to the frat guys. Why are you so upset?"

"I... it was... you weren't supposed to be here," she said. At least she wasn't trying to beat me up any more. Then she whispered, "It's not going to be fun anymore. It's just mechanical... just sex."

I looked at her. "I'm sorry if I ruined your play time. I won't do that any more. Now go up and have a good time." I turned her around and swatted her bottom. I admit it was a little harder than I intended. There was a handprint on her pale ass.

I turned myself around, so I didn't have to watch her go up to the gang-bang room again. As I plodded to the frat house door I said to myself, "Goodbye, Lyn." I thought I'd never see her again.

That's not the way it turned out, of course. This next bit I got from Mom, the day after.

At about 7:00 p.m. Lyn showed up at Mom's house. She asked to see me. I wasn't there, as it turned out. I'd given Mom a story about going out with an Army buddy. I didn't have any, yet. Cripes, I was just out of Basic. I just went to a titty bar and got plastered. I also got some nice lap dances, but they didn't even get me hard.

I was pissed. Both in the British meaning (drunk) and in the American meaning (angry).

Anyway, as Mom told me later, Lynn asked for me. When I wasn't there, she asked to come in. She said she'd done something really stupid. Actually, she said, she'd continued to do stupid things. I knew about it -- them. She wanted to quit doing it, but she didn't know if she could.

My Mom asked her if it was sex or drugs.

"Oh, no! Never drugs. I hate them. My mother got on pills and alcohol. Drugs can kill ya, even if you try to be careful," Carolyn said. "But. Sex can be a drug if you do it enough." She couldn't meet my mother's eye, when she said it.

"Oh," said my Mom. "I suppose it can be. I don't have much knowledge about that. I guess the question is: what do you want to do about it?"

"I... I guess that... I want to quit doing it. I've found somebody I like and... Well Rob told me I'd have to stop... well... you know... He said I had to stop slutting around."

"Oh my. He said that, huh." My Mom said that she told the story about my Uncle Frank.

"Rob's Uncle Frank. He was my husband's brother. He worked in the coal mines -- east Tennessee."

Lyn nodded, wondering what this had to do with anything.

"He smoked three packs of Lucky Strikes a day. Unfiltered. He worked in the mines and his wife was sure that between the mine and the Luckys he'd get lung cancer. He never did, though.

"Anyway, he retired at 50; thirty years he put in. Got a big send off from the boys at the union. That day he went out and bought himself the finest Mustang convertible, biggest engine, fancy leather seats, wood paneled dashboard, plush carpeting ... the works. He'd always wanted one, so he took some of his retirement money and just bought it. He was planning on having it forever.

"On the way back from the dealer, he lit up a Lucky. And while he was driving, a hot ash from his cigarette dropped on the carpet of his Mustang. Well, he pulled right over, and stomped it and there was no fire or anything, but there was this small burn mark. Nobody'd ever have noticed it. But Frank knew it was there.

"While he was pulled over, he threw out his pack of Luckys -- right out the window -- emptied his ashtray, wiped it out with his handkerchief and threw them all away too. He never smoked again. He went from three packs a day to zero, in one second flat.

"What I'm trying to tell you is, if you really want to do something, you can do it -- if the reward is enough."

"That's quite a story," Lyn said. "Is any of it true?" she asked with a smile.

Mom got out the scrapbook, flipped a few pages, and showed Lyn a picture of Frank's baby-blue Mustang. "Nice looking car," said Mom. "The right guy is worth a whole lot more than a car."

They were both quiet for a while.

"Does Rob have a ring or something? He didn't go to college, so maybe a High School graduation ring? He doesn't wear one," Lyn finally said.

"Yes he does. I bet it's still on his dresser. Why?"

"Do you think I could have it? At least until he can get me a permanent one?"

"Well... don't you think that Rob should be the one giving you a ring, not me?" said Mom. She certainly didn't want to commit me to anything.

"It'll be ... it'll be a symbol, I guess. Of something that's more important than a car. We can leave it on the coffee table, until he gets home. I won't take it, I promise, 'til he's here."

"He might be a while, you know. He's out gallivanting."

"Gallivanting," Lyn smiled. "That's a nice word. I hope he doesn't bring some girl home to gallivant with. He might you know. Or he might gallivant at her place. He was kinda upset with me."

"A girl's more important than a car, too," was all my mother said.

...

So that's how it came to be that I came home at 11:30 that night to find Carolyn Elizabeth Smith-Montrose and my Mom talking in the parlor. That's what my Mom called it: the parlor. Lyn was sitting on the couch and Mom was sitting in her favorite recliner. The coffee table was between them. Not actually between them, but it was like the third leg of a triangle. And sitting on it was my old High School ring. I hadn't seen that old thing in years.

I was surprised to see Carolyn here. "Uh... Hi, I guess. What are you doing here?"

"I came... to say, 'Okay.' I guess," she replied.

"Well, it's late and I'm no spring chicken. I'm going to bed. Good night, gallivanters," said Mom.

"Gallivanters? What's going on? And Okay to what?" I was confused.

Lyn smiled. "She was just guessing that you were out gallivanting. Somewhere... with maybe a gallivantress."

I thought for a moment. I wasn't thinking real clearly cause I'd had maybe a wee bit to drink. "Uhm. No gallivantress."

She nodded. "And I was agreeing to your terms."

"Terms?"

"Yeah. No more slutting around if we got serious. So, 'Okay,' I guess."

"Ah." I gave the matter some thought with my non-dead brain cells. "Not good enough. No, 'Okay I guess.' Either okay or not okay. No guessing."

"Shit. You're hard to be with."

"No I'm not. I'm a simple guy. I want to be with you. I'm not guessing. Do you want to be with me?"

"What about the Army, the Rangers, all that stuff?"

"Mom said that if it's right, it's right. She also told me not to let the Rangers get in the way of finding out if it's right."

"Smart woman, your Mom," said Carolyn Elizabeth Smith-Montrose.

She pointed to the class ring on the table. "It's going to be hard for me. I'd like to have something tangible to hold on to. Can I borrow this old ring of yours? I tried it on, and I already know it fits on my left thumb. In a few weeks, we should know if we can replace it with something ... more permanent, or I'll hand it back and we'll call the experiment a failure."

"Sure." And she slipped it on her thumb with a smile.

Lyn looked up at me through her pale lashes. "Can I stay the night?" Then: "And before you ask, nothing happened at the frat house. You're just going to have to trust me on that. But I swear to you, nothing. Not one guy."

"Okay. I trust you. Like I said I would. But..."

"I remember," she interrupted. "You can trust me on this. Why would I start a relationship with such an easily provable event? And I remember... no second chances. One and done."

"Yep."

"Yep what? Yep you remember that too? Or Yep I can stay?"

"Yep. Let me show you my Star Wars action figures. They are up in my room."

Before I entered the hallway, I could swear I saw my mother's bedroom door close and her light turn off. Chapter 04

I shifted in the wheelchair, trying to get more comfortable. It was a direct flight from Germany to Fort Benning, Georgia, where the 75^th Rangers were headquartered. I was going to muster out from there, 'cause that's where my residence was. It was still a long flight though, and my ass was sore.

In the time I'd been in Germany, I'd learned to hobble about on crutches, and I started my therapy with the Mistress of Pain, Captain Marjorie Fletcher. She was the original 'No Pain, No Gain' gal. She was going to be handing me off to some other therapist in the VA hospital system. It would all depend on where we settled to live.

I wondered if there was still a 'we.'

*******************************************

December 17^th. That was the day that Rob Ostroski and Carolyn (blah blah blah) Montrose became a 'we.'

She'd gone to my room and stripped down to the electric blue g-string. Then she proceeded to strip me down to my nothing.

"Your call, Wanger Wob. What do you want first? You're eventually going to get it all. We just need to start with what you want," she smiled that smile.

"Me? I just want to... I dunno... hold you and know that I've beaten out all those other guys." I gathered her into my arms, and reclined on the bed.

"So that's what I am? A trophy you've won and they've all lost?" she sounded light hearted, but I could tell she wasn't exactly pleased.

"No. Yes. I don't know. This is all new to me. You are here. You didn't... you know... have an encounter with all those guys. You're not gonna do that anymore. You're mine. Can I revel in that fact for a moment? You are fantastically beautiful. You are here. I can touch you. And you'll respond to me."

It started to rain and the occasional passing car cast distorted shadows on the wall.

"I just want to do... I dunno... what the others didn't."

I pulled her up a bit and began to suckle on a nipple. She wrapped her arms around my head and moaned. "Oh yes, sweetie. Yesssss."

I kept swapping from nipple to nipple. She was responsive and had obviously sensitive nipples. I kissed my way from nipple to armpit. She squirmed. Not ticklish, but still writhing in my grip. Then I worked my way down to her navel. I was kissing her all over. "Has anyone ever given you a tongue bath? That might be fun."

"It might, but not tonight. Tonight I'm gonna fuck you," said the lady of my dreams.

My tongue found her belly button. She had an innie. Then I let my tongue follow my fingers lower. Eventually it came to her pussy. Yes, tonight I'd call it by it's polite name: her pussy. Maybe it would someday be my pussy.

I lapped at her labia. Long, slow strokes from asshole to her clit. Well, almost to her clit. When I got close, I ended the stroke and dipped down to start another. It was hard to do, 'cause my fingers were constantly stroking at the 'innie' that was hiding behind her labia. She had medium-long outer labia and just the hint of her inner labia peeking out. I doubt that any of her gang-bang buddies ever took the time to notice.