Takin' it to the Banks

Chapter 6

	Mickey showed up at about five-thirty, and Twyla immediately began
dragging him upstairs.  "Whoa!  Twy, Honey, we don't have to have sex every
time we're alone!"

	"That's sweet, but what if I want it?"  Twyla grinned and tugged on
his arm.

	Mickey shrugged, and capitulated, but Twyla stopped on the stair and
regarded him.  "Mickey, what if sometime you wanted it and I didn't?  What's
fair?"

	Mickey blinked.  This sounded like one of those female questions that
there was no safe answer to, but...  "I'd suck it up, I guess.  Why?"

	"What if I did it regularly?  Sometimes to punish you - sometimes,
just for the Hell of it.  What then?" Twyla pressed.

	Yep, the trapdoor was definitely creaking beneath him.  Still, best to
be honest; he could always beg forgiveness later...  "I guess, eventually,
we'd have to have it out..."

	Twyla rounded on him, "What about if I wanted sex and you didn't?"

	"You mean after you rushed me to the hospital to see what had happened
to my head?" Mickey replied, but there was a component of bravado to it.
Truth to tell, he was one satisfied male!  Only youth and vigor were keeping
him ahead of the power curve!  When he got to be an old guy....

	"Well, it could happen..." Twyla eyed him sidelong, and it stung, atop
his own thought process...

	"Um, well, I'd do my best for you...  Where is this going, exactly?"

	Twyla didn't reply - she merely tugged him forward again.  In her
room, after she'd pulled off the tube top she begun affecting when she
discovered that the jiggles she made in it interfered with Mickey's chess
game, she said, "Mother has a new boyfriend."

	Mickey's eyebrows rose, "Really?"

	"Well, maybe.  She's all confused.  Apparently he's wonderful, and
even bigger than that!" Twyla squeezed his hard-on through his boxers, "But he
wants her to let him run things in the bedroom."

	"Huh.  Old fashioned?"

	"Burnt, apparently," Twyla amplified.  "First wife messed with his
head, punished him by not giving him any."  She paused a second, while Mickey
dropped his boxers, then knelt and began to play with his already stone-hard
member,  "Girls make a big thing about being forced, but for guys, it doesn't
seem to be an issue.  Is it that important?"

	"Uhhh," Mickey's response was delayed while he reacted to the swipe of
her tongue across his glans.  "It's like you told me, Prom night - you can't
rape the willing!"  He plopped onto the bed and Twyla knee-walked to him and
enveloped his glans, but he knew she was still listening, so he made an effort
to be rational, "I'd feel bad if I couldn't be there for you if you wanted it
- and I think that's a general attitude, for guys.  But I know that not all
girls think that way.  Many don't - maybe most."  He sucked in a breath -
concentration was hard...  "On the other hand, the woman even really having a
say in it is new, historically speaking.  Even in this country, a century or
so ago, if we were married and you didn't put out on demand, there'd be Hell
to pay - and no one, male or female, would say anything unless I was really
brutal about it."

	Twyla contented herself with jacking Mickey's member while she
replied, "Mother thinks this guy's really nice - but this whole thing has her
really uptight.  Apparently, Dad did whatever he wanted, and she just
cooperated and never even thought about it - but the new guy kinda laid it
out.  He wants her to realize she has a choice.  And he wants her to be okay
with it."

	Mickey hissed, "C'mon, if you're gonna talk..." and slid up onto the
bed.  Twyla crawled up and straddled him, and there was a pause while they
worked at inserting too much penis with too little lubrication.  They were
used to one another by now, though, and both were aware that she could take it
and that she'd be wet before he got too deep.  Finally, when he was fully
buried and Twyla was slowly rocking, he continued, "At least he's up front
about it.  I guess it's gonna come down to 'does she trust him not to abuse
her?'"

	"Ummm," Twyla gave voice to the pleasure Mickey's nearly eight inches
was providing, but she was still managing to think.  "He freaked her out last
night - got her totally wild, then teased her with his prick until he got her
to say she was a slut.  Mom's freaked, largely because he rubbed her nose in
it, and underneath that 'cause she had to admit it, even to herself."

	"Well," Mickey puffed, working his hips, "Calling somebody a slut is a
little harsh..."

	"Well, yeah..." Twyla agreed, "But its all attitude.  By Aaron's
definition - by yours! - I'm a slut, or we wouldn't be here doing this...  I'm
not all bent out of shape over it.  And it's not like we don't know where it
came from..."

	Mickey grinned.  "Well, maybe, but it seems like maybe it was news to
your mother - and having to go public with it..."

	Twyla looked coy, "So I'm a slut?"

	Mickey responded through a strained grin, "Yeah, but you're MY slut,
not public property!  Now, quit yakking and pay attention to what your pussy
is doing, Slut, and give your man that fuck you insisted on when we got here!"

	Twyla feigned offended innocence and stopped moving, "You want me to
stop?"

	"Twylaaaa!" Mickey reached up, hugged her to him, and rolled the
locked system that was the pair of them over, pushed her legs back to her
shoulders, and started a serious effort designed to pound her into submission.
Twyla sighed and smiled; in her opinion, cowgirl was an overrated position,
anyway - best to let her man do what men do.  Serious discussion - serious
thought - came to a halt for the next forty five minutes, while Mickey engaged
in a strenuous, four (female) orgasm proof that he could still cut the
mustard...


	Marion presented herself in Aaron's cube, just before six.  "I, uh,
think we need to talk," she announced diffidently, fully aware of the irony
implicit in the announcement.

	Aaron's lips quirked, but otherwise, he played his cards close to the
chest - after all, they were at work, for one thing, and he couldn't be sure
what was on her mind, for another, "Okay."

	"Do you, uh, have plans?"

	"Out of deference for your being... sore, I was planning a quiet
evening at home," he murmured.  "I didn't get much sleep, either."

	"Twyla wants to meet you," Marion offered, "Maybe we could go to my
place?  I should be able to get her to make something for dinner..."

	Aaron nodded agreement, "Okay."

	"Meet you here at nine?"

	"Sure."

	"Um, maybe you should bring clothes?" Marion through over her
shoulder, diffidently, unable to look at him.  "I'm... not promising anything
- and we DO need to talk - but if things go late..."

	"Yeah."  Aaron grinned, unseen.  Fine.  The situation might still be
in doubt, but there was plenty of maneuvering room.  He listened as Marion
collected her cart and rolled it past on the way to the kitchenette.  Maybe it
was time to improve the odds a bit...  Popping up, he exited his cube and
followed her down the corridor that defined the edge of the cube farm.

	Along both walls, there were offices facing the open bay where the
cubes were situated.  Aaron slid past Marion's cart and wandered down the
corridor defined by the wall of offices and the facing row of cubes, looking
for occupants and turning into the last office, that of a manager whose habits
made his presence after five-thirty an unusual event.  On this evening, things
went to spec - John wasn't there.  Neither were the occupants of the adjoining
offices and facing cubes - good.  Returning to the cart, Aaron observed, "I'm
afraid that there is something back here that will require some additional
attention..." waving toward the offices.

	"Oh?"  Marion turned from the microwave, rag in hand.  Certainly,
Aaron wasn't - no, he was the soul of discretion - perhaps pointing out some
little spill was just his way of getting in a moment's innocent attention...
She snatched up a roll of paper towels and followed Aaron back to the office,
discovering a dumped-over trash receptacle.  'Surely he didn't do something as
silly as...'  Marion's thought process got no further; the door clicked
closed, and a pair of large hands settled on her hips.

	"Leave that," Aaron directed, "it's unimportant.  I'll get it, after -
but I saw a woman in need of a kiss..."  Marion had risen on contact, and
Aaron's hands found instantly erect nipples as they swept upward.  He lowered
his lips to Marion's neck and they tripled in length in a matter of seconds,
while Marion collapsed back against him, moaning.

	"You're so bad," she husked, thoroughly surprised and thrilled that he
would initiate such an insane action. 'My God!  There's a wild man under that
reserve!' she realized, as se turned her head without conscious thought,
offering her lips.

	The tongue duel, once initiated, lasted for fifteen minutes, the
clinch broken at the sound of the vacuum cleaner starting on the far side of
the bay.  Aaron backed off and husked, "I guess you get the can, anyway -
you'll need an excuse."  Leaning in, he swept his lips over her neck, and
murmured, "Be sure to tuck your shirt..."  Then he turned and swept out,
leaving Marion in a fine disarray.  Her golf shirt was rucked up around her
midriff, her pants were unbuttoned - half her hair had escaped her ponytail -
and she had NO idea how he'd accomplished it all!

	Aaron didn't, either - he'd put his hands on autopilot with an order
to seek out nipples, and paid attention to his kissing - but his fingers
remembered a pair of stiff fleshy spikes.  Marion had simplified things no end
by wrapping both arms around his neck and not interfering.  Aaron smiled to
himself as he packed his laptop case; finding Marion was like going to the
beach with a metal detector, and instead of finding old beer cans, stumbling
upon pirate treasure!  Passing Marion on the way to the stair, he ran a
knuckle down her spine as she bent to empty a trashcan into her cart's barrel,
and murmured, "Nine, then," not stopping to examine effect.

	Marion shivered from head to foot, and turning, watched his receding
back until he'd rounded the corner.  Then she gathered herself and resumed her
work.  If he kept THIS up, they'd be caught!  That much was certain!

	Moments later, Lottie, who had been running the vacuum, sidled up,
"Did he...  touch you?  That's not right - we're not here for that..."

	Marion manufactured innocence, "What?  Lottie!  You're seeing things!
A- Mr. Morgenthaler is a nice man!  He didn't do anything!"

	"It looked like..." Lottie was SURE she'd seen him touch her...

	"Maybe he just put out his hand as he passed, to make sure I didn't
back into him - I felt a breeze...  But even if he did, it's no big thing..."
Marion passed it off.  "Relax; if he were to do something I didn't like, I'd
deal with it myself.  You worry too much!"  Lottie shrugged and moved off,
unconvinced, and Marion vowed to herself to warn Aaron to keep his wild man
act under wraps at work.  But in the meantime...


	The phone rang, and Twyla fumbled it with a sweat-slippery hand,
"Hello?"

	"Hi, Honey, it's Mom," Marion's voice issued from the earpiece.
"I've... decided to bring Aaron home.  Can you make something for dinner?  No
need for rocket science - just something we can all eat.  I've got to get
this... control thing dealt with, one way or the other."

	"Mmmm, okay.  Chicken?"  Twyla sat bolt upright while she shook off
the post-orgasmic lassitude.  "And can Mickey stay?"

	"Chicken's fine, and Mickey CAN stay for dinner - but it's a school
night..."

	"Umm, that's okay - I think we've got THAT all out of our systems for
a bit."  She grinned at Mickey, who grinned back.  He was sweat-soaked from
trying to set some kind of missionary-style record; certainly, Coach Hays had
never put that many pushups on him in gym class!

	"This way, I'll get another male opinion, too!" Marion replied.
"Okay, I'll see you about nine-fifteen.  Bye!"

	"Bye!"  Twyla hung up.  "Let's go get a shower, then I have to cook.
Mother is bringing her new boyfriend home!"

	"I thought that was kinda rocky?" Mickey offered.

	"She does, too," Twyla grinned, "but I know better.  Whatever it is
he's doing, it's all right.  She may THINK there's a problem, but she's
already decided inside somewhere to give him what he wants, or he wouldn't be
coming home with her.  She's just trying to save face - and I think she'll get
a charge out of him telling her 'No', anyway!"

	"Really?"

	"Uh huh," Twyla nodded.  "I've been thinking about it, and there have
been a couple of dead giveaways.  You know, she's been working for that
service forever, and could be a big boss by now - but she doesn't like being
in charge!  It's all part of a pattern.  She told me earlier that she let Dad
do things his way in bed from Day One, and never gave it a thought.  And she
got all excited about the slut thing, but I don't think it was ALL righteous
indignation - I think she got hot thinking about it!"

	"Hmmmm," Mickey turned this over.  "Well, its weird, but it wouldn't
be the first time..."

	"Or the last..." Twyla returned, blushing.  "The thing that caused me
to put it together was the flash I got when YOU called ME slut!"  Hopping up
to cover her embarrassment, she added, "Let's get that shower!"

	"Sure," Mickey grinned, vaulting from the bed.  "Lead on...  Slut!"  A
quick pop on the butt accompanied by a squeal put them in motion toward the
bathroom.


	Aaron waited in the parking lot for Marion, something that caused her
some anxiety until she saw his car, engine running and lights on, beside hers
from an upstairs window.  She went from concern that he wouldn't be there to
concern that Lottie would discover that he was in the flick of a mental
switch, but managed not to telegraph anything.  Once outside in the parking
lot, she limited herself to a little beckoning wave, looking around anxiously,
then got into her car.  Aaron took the hint, and made no major demonstrations,
merely starting up and following.

	On arrival at Marion's Aaron pulled up behind her, hopped out, and
asked, "What's up?  You seemed... upset."

	Marion turned anxious eyes on him, "The girl who was vacuuming saw you
touch my back and got all excited about it!  It took some work to get her to
forget the whole thing - and I'm not sure I succeeded!"  Just remembering made
her shaky - but then he was there, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her
against him.  This was different than before, but every bit as welcome; Marion
took to it like a duck takes to water, snuggling in.

	Aaron grinned in spite of himself.  "Have to be a bit more
circumspect, I guess," he rumbled.  Marion merely nodded, her head tucked into
his shoulder.  After a moment, she backed off, and taking his hand, led him
into the house.

	Dinner was chicken, in a dish with some pasta.  Aaron wasn't a big
chicken fan, considering it to be tough, stringy, and tasteless, usually, but
the daughter, Twyla, had managed to turn it into something decent.  Clearly
favoring her mother, the younger member of the Banks clan had been gifted with
a bit more padding here and there, notably in the bust.  Given Marion's
obvious sensitivity there, Aaron found he didn't miss it in her - it was
decorative, but not required.  The boyfriend was quiet; he didn't say two
words, but Aaron was well aware that he was being evaluated, and that very
quickly, Twyla would have the report.  Aaron returned the assessment, both
because it would help him to determine Mickey's reaction and because they were
both males fishing from the same pool; they would need to deal with one
another, one way or the other.  Aaron facilitated things by treating Mickey
like an adult; he and Twyla were displaying all of the earmarks of high
romance, but they appeared to be dealing with one another on other levels,
too, which Aaron felt said good things about the boy.  Mickey noticed, and it
brightened the color of his appraisal of the older man.  The women watched
this activity, half amused, and half concerned for the issues that might arise
if they couldn't get along - but amusement won out as it became apparent that
there were no immediate problems.

	Mickey and Twyla disappeared upstairs for a bit after dinner, but
Mickey was quickly back down the stairs and out the door, despite a touching
scene on the steps.  Aaron lounged in the kitchen while Marion picked up, and
they retired to the living room couch.

	"So, we're talking, then?" Aaron opened things.

	"Uh huh," Marion tried to keep diffidence from her voice - and failed.
"I think we need to talk about this control thing."

	"Okay," Aaron murmured, sliding his right hand over Marion's left.  He
was careful not to be too demonstrative - that would be obvious.  No, there
was a time to be sneaky - and this was it...  She was obviously chewing on
something, so he prodded, "Go on."

	"I'm concerned that if I have no control at all, there could be
abuse."

	"Abuse?"  Aaron's eyebrows rose.  "Anything in particular?"

	"Well, uh, no," Marion replied.  She was uneasy, but the whole thing
was kind of amorphous.

	"Were there any set limits in your previous relationship?  Did he make
demands that you refused to fulfill?"  Aaron prompted.

	"Ummm, no - but Ed wasn't terribly inventive.  We, uh, exceeded Ed's
usual repertoire last night, I think."

	"I see.  Did you deny him often?"

	"No."

	"During your period, perhaps?"

	"No."

	"No?"  Aaron's interest was piqued.  "That's a fairly normal
reason..."

	"I'd... just clean up as best I could.  Ed didn't seem to care..."
Marion blushed.

	"Headache?  Other ailments?"

	"No...  I'd just take a Tylenol.  Sex seemed to...  help."

	"And you had sex how often?" Aaron pressed.

	"Regularly.  Every day or two.  Whenever he..."  Marion realized she'd
just stuck her foot in her mouth, but couldn't really pull it back out, "...
wanted it."

	Aaron just looked at her, and Marion felt the ship containing the
justification for her discontent slipping beneath the waves.  In desperation,
she wailed, "But he wasn't as demanding as you are!"

	Aaron raised his eyebrows.  "Really?  How so?  From what I can tell,
he EXPECTED your complete compliance - and he got it, without even THIS amount
of confrontation.  How was he different?  What did you two do?"

	"Uhhh," Shit! Shit! SHIT!  Howcum things were going so badly?  "We had
sex - usually missionary style - or doggie.  And I gave him head.  Sometimes -
not often - he did me..."

	"Anal sex?"  Aaron prompted.

	"No," Marion replied, eyeing Aaron sidelong, "I don't think it ever
occurred to him."

	Aaron's face displayed nothing, but inside, he laughed, 'It occurred
to YOU, though, didn't it?'  "So you're a virgin, anally?"

	"Yes!  THAT's what I'm talking about!  You're going to want...
more..."   Marion really had no concept, but they'd gotten there; THIS was the
basis for her concern!

	"If Ed had expressed an interest, what would you have done?"  Aaron
asked, coolly.

	"I-" Dammit!  He's done it again!  "I'd have... knelt up," Marion
admitted, her face fire-engine red.

	"I know," Aaron shrugged.  "You offered it to me last night, and you
didn't think twice.  I'm missing the problem, Dear."

	"Well," Marion rose gamely to the attack, "Let's talk about last
night!  About that slut thing!  Just because I got over-excited ONCE after
going without FOREVER, that makes me a slut?"

	Aaron's lip quirked.  "I took advantage of your response pattern to
make a point and perhaps close off this discussion," he admitted.  "Do you
claim that that is not your normal pattern?"

	"Uh," Marion had been on the verge of enthusiastic agreement when it
occurred to her that she might be about to lie.  "I don't know."

	"Let me put it another way," Aaron said gently, reaching across to
caress her cheek, "Is it worth the effort of the regular self-denial necessary
to prove your point?  I understand that I trod on your dignity with big, muddy
feet, but do you REALLY want to have to exercise the kind of control it will
take to prove me a liar?"

	Marion pouted.  How on Earth had he tripped her up again?  Either she
admitted to being a slut, or she had to be frigid for the rest of their
relationship!  Obviously, under those conditions, that wouldn't be long...
Besides, COULD she?  Marion honestly didn't know - and didn't want to find
out!  "Well, no.  I'm not saying I am, but IF I am, you rubbed my nose in it,
pretty bad!  Are you going to do that kind of thing regularly?"

	"Well," Aaron replied, "I don't expect it to be a regular thing, but
if I catch you deluding yourself about your sexuality in some way, yes, I may
rub your nose in it again..."

	"Deluding..."  Marion's eyes took on an unaccustomed fire.

	Aaron refused to back down.  "Deluding.  You were Ed's sex slave - and
you didn't even consciously agree to it!  At least I'M being honest with you!"

	"I was NOT...!" Marion erupted, hotly.

	"Okay, then, let's talk about it," Aaron replied reasonably.  "How did
Ed typically initiate sex?"

	"Um," Marion thought about it.  "Well, it didn't start that way, but
by the time we were married, it was pretty standard stuff," she related.
Aaron rubbed her arm a bit, and she continued, "Usually, he'd come out with
'Come here, Sweet Thang, and give me a little,' "  Memory distracted her, and
she leaned into the arm rub; Aaron extended it to her shoulders.

	"And then what would happen?" Aaron asked gently.

	Marion shrugged, and scooted closer, cuddling up.  "Then I'd...  go
digging for his cock," she admitted.

	"Why?  What was your motivation?" Aaron asked, gently, working at
being non-confrontational.  The shoulder rub moved to the right shoulder, and
he took her left hand in his.

	Marion relaxed and forgot about arguing, for the time being, lost in
the memories.  It had been a good time, mostly.  "I wanted the sex, usually.
Maybe not right then, exactly, but next time...  It kept him happy, and I
enjoyed it."

	"Anything else?" Aaron asked, squeezing her hand.

	"It kept him around..."

	Aaron was silent a bit, giving warmth and allowing Marion to soak it
up.  "So, you wanted him happy..."

	"Yes..."

	"It generally started with oral sex?"  Aaron substituted the term for
'blowjob' at the last moment.

	"Yeah," Marion sighed.  She was getting worked up despite herself, and
Aaron was being SO gentle.  "I'd come over to his chair and kneel up, and
shuck him out of his pants...  Generally, though, that was just the warm-up.
I'd suck him a bit, and we'd have sex.  In the beginning, the blowjobs seldom
lasted long, and he never came.  Later, though..."

	Aaron nodded, and kissed her neck.  "So, he took, and you gave.  And
the reasons were sex, and the maintenance of the relationship.  In that
order?"

	"Um, pretty much," Marion admitted.  "If he left..."

	"Was it worthwhile?"

	Marion sighed, "Until he moved out the fourth time.  I gave up, then."
She got quiet while the realization dawned that she hadn't made a case for not
being a slut, and she hadn't made a case for not being basically enslaved in
her last relationship - but, if Aaron wanted to split hairs, she MIGHT have
made a case for being a whore in addition to the other charges.  Dammit...

	Aaron didn't pounce; instead, he was more subtle.  "Would you do it
again?"

	There it was - the EJECT button!  Big, and red, and flashing - all she
had to do was say 'No.'  Problem was, she couldn't...  "Possibly...
Probably."  She sighed.  It didn't come out, but the next thought processed
was, 'Yes, dammit!'

	Enough stick - on to the carrot.  Aaron kissed her neck again and
whispered, "And if things were... better?"

	Marion surrendered in that moment.  She pretended that the situation
was in doubt, but from that point forward, it was all negotiation.  "Better,
how?"

	Aaron wasn't fooled.  "I think emotional commitment is important,
don't you?"  Marion nodded.  "I'm not twenty, any more - so we'll shoot for
quality..."

	"How far does this go?" Marion wondered aloud.  "Is this sex in the
bedroom, or sex anywhere?  Do I get a veto at all?  Um, when Twyla was a baby,
sucking cock in the living room was okay, but..."

	Aaron's dry chuckle sounded in her ear, "Now that she's eighteen and
doing it herself?  The potentially damaging period is over, Dear.  The answer
is sex," he lowered his lips to her neck for a moment, "...anywhere."

	Those lips on her neck were a tremendous distraction, but Marion
struggled on, "What if it's just...  wrong?"

	Aaron sat back, but Marion made up for it by leaning against him.  He
ruminated a bit, kissing her neck, then offered, "How about this?  The first
time we do something, you get the right of protest.  You tell me why it's
wrong, and I'll deliberate on it for somewhere between thirty minutes and a
day.  That stops it, immediately, unless you vacate the protest - I won't just
keep going; there will be at least a thirty minute cooling off period.  If,
after I've deliberated, your case proves convincing, we won't do it - if not,
we do.  How's that?"

	"Um," Marion thought about it.  "What if we do it and I hate it?"

	"Hmmm.  Okay, the second time, you can refuse.  Tell me what's so
awful about it, and I'll make the call.  If I'm still unconvinced, though, we
have a problem.  You may refuse absolutely, having done the act once - but if
you do, you need to be aware that it endangers our relationship.  I can't just
have you invoking these rights all over the place, you understand.  That being
the case, you'd better have some plan to mollify me.  Oh, and if we've done it
twice, don't even bother - I won't even pause."

	The terms sounded harsh - and pleasing.  It was an odd combination;
Marion had more trouble with her reactions than the content.  "What if I'm
sick, or something?"

	Aaron sighed.  "Don't you trust me at all?  If you're obviously not up
for something, physically, I'm sure I'll be able to figure that out.  But if
you start having bouts of this or that phantom illness, there will be
trouble!"

	Realizing that she was close to pissing Aaron off, Marion did some
conciliatory snuggling.  Aaron accepted this, but waited her out - he knew
there was more.  Marion lifted her head from its seat on his shoulder and
regarded him, "How kinky are we going to get?"

	Aaron went poker-faced.  "I don't know," he admitted.  "While I was
doing without, I discovered a great many variations, reading and watching porn
flicks.  Undoubtedly we'll slowly push the edge of the envelope, here and
there.  At this point, though, I don't have any particular axe to grind - or
at least nothing you haven't already offered me..."  That last was delivered
with a grin that showed fangs - and Marion, realizing that he was announcing
his intent to use her virgin ass, felt a shiver of mixed fear and
anticipation.

	"Ummm," Marion decided upon one more question, "How far does this go,
beyond sex?  Am I looking at whips and chains, here?"

	Aaron paused.  "I honestly don't know.  That depends upon how our
relationship develops.  It depends upon you, as much as it depends on me."  He
grinned, "But the picture of you in a collar, with little chains running down
to rings through these..." he reached out and rubbed the back of his hand
across her extended left nipple, "ankle bracelets, and nothing else, is a
pleasant fantasy..."

	Marion shivered again, wondering just how far Aaron was capable of
carrying such a thing.  Well, time would tell...  "Okay," she husked.

	Aaron blinked.  "Okay?"

	"Okay, we'll do it your way," Marion amplified, unable to meet his
eyes.  "And, okay, maybe I'm a..."

	"Slut?"  Aaron leaned in and kissed her neck.  "Dear, when you agreed
to my other terms, the right for me to call you that was implicit in them -
don't you think?  But I will treasure the admission, anyway."  He pulled her
in closer, "Now that the confrontation is over, why don't we enjoy one another
for a while?"

	Aaron bore in for a kiss, and Marion surrendered, wondering whether he
had just asked for sex.  The next few minutes' worth of torrid necking told
her that while it might be an eventual goal, it wasn't an immediate one...


	Twyla grinned from ear to ear from her hiding place behind the door.
She'd sneaked down to see how Mom was faring with her new man, and got an
earful!  Apparently, Aaron was a wild one, despite his laid back exterior!
She stuck an eye around the door, thinking, "Maybe they'll fuck..."

	A few minutes later, Aaron and Marion broke their current clinch, and
Aaron announced - kind of loudly, Marion thought - "I'm going out and get my
bag.  Why don't you see what you can do about improving access?"

	"Okay," Marion breathed.  She was all for it.  At this point, her golf
shirt was bunched above her nipples, her pants were open and halfway to he
knees, and her panties were askew - and she couldn't tell you how it had
happened!  Once he got moving, Aaron was an irresistible force - and Marion
was NOT an immovable object!  His hands were gentle, caressing - marvelous!

	Aaron made his way to the door, and Marion rose to follow, adjusting
her clothing.  She thought about merely suggesting that they adjourn to her
room, but Aaron seemed satisfied with the current situation, so she ran
upstairs to throw herself into a dressing gown, slowing down to tiptoe past
Twyla's room, where all was quiet...

	...With good reason:  Twyla was hiding in the kitchen, trying to
decide whether she needed to back herself into the laundry to avoid detection.
The significance of Aaron's loud announcement hadn't been lost on Twyla; it
said clearly that he suspected they were being spied upon, at least.  And the
fact that he hadn't suggested a change of venue was an invitation...  Maybe
Twyla would take a look at how Mom fared in the Bedroom Olympics...

	Aaron grinned as he retrieved his overnight bag from the trunk of his
car.  Marion had all but admitted to voyeurism where Twyla and her boyfriend
were concerned; apparently, Twyla had decided to return the favor.  No
problem; in fact, it opened up an opportunity...

	Upstairs, Marion outfitted herself in a short, thin robe - and nothing
else.  In two days, Aaron had presented her with more real intimacy than Ed
had in a year or more; if he wanted something, she'd be an absolute idiot not
to provide it!  Sure, she was a little sore from yesterday - but by now, it
was mere background for that familiar twitchy itch - and Aaron had just the
tool to scratch it!  In fact...  Marion started making serious plans for Mr.
Aaron Morgenthaler!

	Aaron let himself back in, making his way back into the living room.
Standing before the couch, he unbuttoned his dress shirt and removed it; the
undershirt would present enough in the way of issues, but he still had no idea
of Marion's reaction to chest hair.  He settled onto the couch to await
Marion, knowing she wouldn't take long.

	She didn't, either, flouncing down the stairs and rushing into the
living room to make sure Aaron hadn't discovered some reason to be elsewhere,
relieved that he had not.  The couple resumed necking in that somewhat looser
environment, Aaron's hands exercising free rein over the expanse of smooth
skin beneath the robe.  Marion, for her part, buried a hand in Aaron's fly at
the earliest opportunity; the appendage that lurked there was a continuous
source of wonder to her.  How could he be so big?

	Twyla waited until things were relatively quiet, and sneaked back to
the vicinity of the living room door.  She recognized those moans - she made
similar, in dire straits!  Mom's pussy might be sore, but it had other
problems, now; no doubt, when push came to shove, Mom would open her legs
gladly.

	Push was coming to shove; Marion broke the current clinch, got up, and
bent over Aaron, getting a good grip on his trousers while kissing him.  Aaron
lifted his hips, and Marion slid his trousers off his hips and toward his
ankles.  "I didn't ask for this," he noted, as Marion settled to her knees.

	"No, it's a gift," Marion replied, and buried her nose in his wiry
pubes, inhaling.  'A gift for who?' she chuckled to herself as his rank, male
smell made her head swim.  Wrapping her hand around his monster cock (he'd
have disagreed with that description, but so what?) she lowered soft lips over
his glans, causing him to hiss in pleasure.

	Twyla, listening, had a pretty good idea what was happening.  In a
moment, there was a popping slurp, a vacuum-break sound that had only one
known source.  Time to get a look at how Mom sucked cock...  Slowly, she slid
her head around the open doorway, obtaining a side-on view of her mother
nodding over a cock that was every bit as big as she'd said it was.  Aaron
was...

	... Staring back at her, grinning.  Twyla made to duck back, but Aaron
just smiled.  When she'd recovered her courage, he smiled, brought a finger to
his lips, and waved her forward for a closer look...

	Marion was hard at it, her lips around the ring at the base of Aaron's
wide glans, her tongue dancing over it.  After a moment, she started bobbing,
taking the shaft to the depth that she could handle comfortably, eyes closed
while she concentrated on the action in her mouth.  After a half dozen dives
on his shaft, she opened her eyes to look up and see how Aaron was handling
it.  That his flicked to her from offside somewhere was mildly disquieting,
but they stayed locked, and he was smiling.  She went back to work, watching
him until he leaned up and took a nipple in his hand, working it gently.

	Things went like this for a couple of minutes, Aaron switching nipples
and caressing her back and shoulders with the off-side hand.  Marion had the
distinct impression that he would like to thrust, but he wasn't doing it; the
only way she was going to take that was to get the advanced work out of the
way.  Deep throat had not been necessary with Ed, but Aaron was going to
require it, for certain, so...  Gently, she pushed Aaron back on his seat,
locked eyes with him, and began trying to go deep.

	Almost instantly, she began to gag; her eyes watered, and she got pink
as she tried to control it.  Backing off a bit, she choked and gurgled and
blushed in shame, but Aaron merely smiled and caressed her cheek.  As she dove
in a second time, a hand laid itself on her back, and a familiar voice said,
"Open your throat, Mom.  Breathe through your nose."

	Marion's eyes bugged and she began to thrash.  Twyla!  God!  Twyla was
watching her give a...  But Aaron locked his hand behind her head, holding her
impaled and roared, "Stop!"  After a moment, Marion subsided, eyeing Aaron
through eyes swimming with tears of embarrassment and humiliation.  Aaron
rubbed her shoulder and caressed her cheek, still pinning her in place, "I
TOLD you it was too late to worry about Twyla - although I didn't expect
this...  You know, you all but admitted watching her and her boyfriend;
turnabouts is fair play..."

	Twyla continued to rub her back, "Its okay, Mom - in fact, its kinda
cool; I know more about this than YOU do!"

	Marion's shoulders sagged, and Aaron took this as a sign of her
acceptance, and released her head.  Marion backed off and mumbled, "I feel
like such a..."

	"Shhh," Aaron admonished.  "You're going to have to get over these
little embarrassments; there's going to be a lot of sex going on around here.
Periodically, one of us is going to stumble upon another pair having sex.
Twyla or Mickey wandering into the room is NOT going to stop ME, I assure
you!"

	Twyla went back to the mechanics of the situation.  "Its okay to gag a
little bit - it causes you to produce a lot of saliva, which lubricates
things.  You know, if you can't force yourself, why don't you let Aaron
drive?"

	Marion glanced up at her smiling daughter, then hesitantly re-engaged
with Aaron's cock.  Aaron murmured, "I won't hurt you, but I'm going to take
you beyond where you think you're safe.  Try not to panic, and open your
throat.  Breathe through your nose, now, and try to keep doing it."  He cupped
her head in gentle hands, and began slowly pulling her into his crotch.

	It seemed like the spongy head of his cock was immediately at her
throat, and she began to gag.  Next, panic set in, and she started waving her
arms.  But Twyla swatted her on the ass, "Mother!  Settle down, and stop being
a baby!  I know you don't want ME showing you how it's done!  Now, ride it
out!"  Marion barely got herself under control when two things happened:
Aaron' cock slid into her throat, and he released her, allowing the
withdrawal.  Marion held on for about a second, getting a feel for the
penetration, but she was in a serious hurry to get her throat back!  Drooling
and wheezing, she knelt there getting herself back under control.  Twyla
nodded, "Yeah, the first time is kinda scary.  Now you know it'll go, though.
It gets easier as you get used to it, but I still don't do more than a couple
at a time.  One of the girls at school claims she does her boyfriend the whole
way and lets him shoot down her throat - I'll believe THAT when I see it!"

	Marion provided Aaron with more normal service while her stomach
settled, and, yeah, the extra saliva didn't hurt anything.  In about a minute,
she was ready to give it another go.  This time, she got it in by herself, and
held it there a moment before backing off; her control was better, too.
Increasing confidence led to a third, even more successful attempt a minute
later, Marion burying her nose in Aaron's wiry pubes and managing to take the
entire length.  But round four was a screw-up; she had no idea what she did
wrong, but her gag reflex kicked - hard - and she came within millimeters of
vomiting on the rug.  Still, she was nerving herself for round five when Aaron
grunted, "Don't!  You're gonna need to...  swallow!  I'm...  close...
UUuuuuuuuhhhhhh!"  Aaron stiffened, and Marion felt the muscle in his right
arm flex as he ALMOST drove her onto him - but he overrode the instinct and
merely ensured that she accepted the sticky, salt-sweet gush that the first
pulse of his orgasm poured into her mouth.

	Marion had no plans to do anything else, anyway.  Instead, she
increased the suction, milking him and swallowing as necessary.  This was
familiar ground, even if she WAS a bit out of practice; she knew what would
improve his orgasm, and provided it, willingly, laving his sensitive glans
with her tongue.  In a bit, he began to be overloaded, and she backed off,
satisfying herself by teasing him with intermittent licks to his over-
sensitive cock that galvanized him.  When his reactions indicated that he was
past the post-orgasmic overload, she moved in to clean him with her mouth.

	Aaron was just amazed; she was the sweetest thing!  He might have been
done more professionally, but certainly not as pleasantly!  One thing was
certain:  Whatever verbal lines he drew in the sand to maintain his control,
he had NO intention of letting Marion go, for ANY reason!  He stood and pulled
her to him, kissing her deeply.  "That was...  VERY nice..." he murmured.
"Let's go upstairs - I have a gift for you, too..."

	"There's an idea!" Twyla chuckled.  "I guess I'll leave you two alone.
Nice work, Mom!  I think I DID learn something!"

	Marion turned and said archly to her daughter's retreating back,
"Should we leave the door open?"

	Twyla turned and eyed her mother candidly, refusing to be upstaged,
"You owe me that, Mother.  But I can open a door all by myself, if the urge
proves irresistible..."  Turning, she swayed out.

	Marion giggled her embarrassment and buried her head in Aaron's
shoulder, leaving Aaron to reflect that Twyla was a handful; he'd leave her to
Mickey - Marion was turning out to be plenty.  In fact, he was a good ways
back down the slope of his sexual performance, and Marion was in her prime -
he might have to borrow Mickey on occasion to give Marion that extra little
bit that she so richly deserved.  It was a bittersweet thought; sharing her
had both positive and negative aspects for him.  "Come, Dear," he directed,
"Let's go upstairs and see if that pussy of yours is too sore for a little
tongue work - I bet it isn't..."  As they turned for the door, locked at the
hips, Aaron reaching down to collect his bag, Marion reflected that she wasn't
THAT sore - and she had a deep-seated itch that Aaron had ALREADY proven
perfectly capable of scratching...