Throughout the two years that Tommy had spent in the army he had continued to
love Sara, although he had not heard from her; not a phone call, not a letter.
At some point he began to assume that he and she would not get married, that
they
might never see each other again. So he allowed himself to enjoy the high school
girls, who found him to be so cute and sexy. He had four of them, none of whom
was a virgin. It was so pleasurable, having gentle sex with them, but he could
not reach orgasm until he envisioned Sara's pale face.
The day after he returned home, Tommy went across the street to Sara's house,
where Mrs. McCracken informed him that Sara no longer lived there, although she
visited regularly. She had moved in with the young woman who had been her
science tutor the previous year, and lived in a house not far from Norton State,
where Sara was a freshman. Mrs. McCracken prepared tea and the two of them
visited for an hour, chatting about Tom's experiences in the army, the old days,
and, especially, Sara. The girl, now a young woman of nineteen, had recovered
from the worst manifestations of her mental illness, but she would have to take
medication for the rest of her life.
"She still loves you, Tommy, but don't get your hopes up. Things have changed.
She has changed."
Mrs. McCracken would not be more specific, and Tommy knew that some important
things had been left unsaid.
* * *
Tommy matriculated at Norton State in the middle of the year, at the beginning
of
the second semester. He found the atmosphere there exciting, almost exotic, as
young people like himself busied themselves in building their futures, so many
of
them being the first person in their family to attend college. The student union
was an especially vibrant place, where he overheard young people talking about
ideas, politics and theories, perhaps not expertly, but with fervor and
enthusiasm. That first day at school he encountered a table full of his old
classmates, including Jack Kovacic, who gave him a bear hug as a greeting. Tom
spent an hour with them and joined their discussion about the pending collapse
of
Social Security, the acting talent of Jack Nicholson, and the music of Gustav
Mahler, of whom Tom had never heard, although in time Tom would come to
understand how music could be woefully, pitifully sad, especially his favorites,
Mahler's "Kindertoten Lieder" and Mozart's fifth violin concerto.
Jack told him that Sara was around, that she looked as fabulous as ever, that
she
didn't have a guy, although she was pursued by a legion of horny, young adult
men.
"She seems to be all right now, and people don't think badly of her. We all know
that she was very ill. She lives with a woman, maybe twenty six or seven years
old, who is quite striking in a stern sort of way, a school teacher who has an
independent income. She doesn't hang out much on campus. She attends classes -
she's in my History 101 - goes to the library to study, and then she goes home
to
a really nice house about three blocks from here."
"When's History 101?" Tom asked.
"From 9:10 to 10:00, Monday, Wednesday and Friday," Jack responded, knowing that
Tom would be there the next time class let out.
Indeed, he was there, although he had to cut a class. He waited in the corridor
outside the classroom, feeling nervous and excited. Then the door opened and
students began to stream out. He saw her and suddenly felt dizzy. Her raven
hair fell to her shoulders. She wore a bright green dress with short sleeves.
She looked so pale, yet stunningly beautiful. Sara looked up and saw Tommy in
the hall. She stopped, and people behind bumped into her. Her mouth fell open
and she seemed to quiver. Tommy came to her, took her by the hand and they found
a spot outside the traffic of students. They stood close and stared into each
other's face, and then, as if choreographed, fell into each other's arms. Jack
Kovacic saw his friends, so long parted, clutching each other, and he was almost
overcome by emotion. Sara buried her face in Tom's neck and licked it. She
sobbed softly as she was reunited with the person who loved her most of all, her
old playmate, her lover. Tom stroked her head, his eyes moist, oblivious of the
crowd of people who passed by, looking at them as they embraced each other.
They held each other for minutes, until the hallway emptied of students rushing
to their next class. Tom breathed deeply her familiar scent as he sucked on an
ear lobe. It was, for him, as if he had been in extreme tension for two years
and had suddenly found release.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you so much," they whispered to each other.
Tom licked her cheek and then they kissed deeply. All the good and wonderful
experiences which they had shared since they were toddlers rushed to their
conscious memories. The bad things and the two year separation were pushed into
a distant background. They were together again.
* * *
"Things are different with me now," Sara said softly, looking shyly at Tom with
an expression of uncompromising adoration.
They sat at a corner table in a restaurant near campus where they ate an early
lunch. The place was largely empty, it not being yet eleven o'clock.
"How is it different?" Tom asked.
"Well . . .," she began, but hesitated. "I'm living with a woman. She's twenty
seven. You'll like her." Sara hesitated again. "We're very close . . . you
know . . . really close."
Tom knew immediately what she meant, and he experienced a sudden sinking
feeling.
He was determined not to lose her again. They were holding hands across the
table. Tom raised her hand to his face and sucked on a finger. He pulled the
finger from his mouth and wiped its wetness across his cheek, looking intently
into her lovely face, a face that he had known his entire life.
"In Kentucky I came to love a boy, a boy my age. We did, well, we tried
everything together, you know. It was all an experiment. He went on to fuck
girls, and I must admit that I took on girls too. We would still go to bed
together, though. The point is that though I loved him I never stopped loving
you. Whenever I climaxed, your face was always in my mind. God! how I wish we
were twelve years old again."
Tommy choked back a sob of frustration and fear of losing her again, as he
pressed Sara's hand to his mouth.
"Her name is Elena," Sara began, "and I love her. She has helped me so much,
helped me to get sane again. I can't imagine not living with her, cuddling with
her. We give each other such wonderful pleasure, a pleasure that is neither
greater nor less than what you have given me. It's totally different. It's a
girl thing. I still love you, no less than before. I want you to pleasure me in
your way. I dream about it. I want to excite you and make you come. I still
want to taste you."
"Marry me!" Tom interrupted.
Sara squeezed Tom's hand and pulled it to her cheek. Her moist eyes looked sadly
into Tom's face.
"I can't. Schizophrenia is in my genes. My grandmother had it as well as one of
my aunts. I have it. I don't want to bring children into the world with this
sickness. It's so horrible."
"Then we won't have children."
"No. I know that you want children, a son. Tommy, find a good woman and marry
her. Have children. I'll always be there for you, when you need me, even when
we're ninety."
Sara! . . . "
"Let's stop talking. I want to make love. I want to feel you again. It's been
so long."
* * *
They made love in an elegant house on a boulevard near the university. They
groaned and sighed. Tommy tasted her all over, and Sara sucked on him. They
coupled grandly, greedily after being so long apart. They kissed as they fucked,
trading spit. Tom could time himself. He waited for Sara's climax and then
joined her yelps with his grunts of ecstasy.
It was not enough for Tom. He wanted her forever. He held her to him, stroked
her groin and felt his seed oozing from her.
"Marry me! We can adopt children, as many as you want."
Sara lay with one leg over her lover, his flaccid penis lying on her thigh. She
caressed his head and pecked at his face with her lips.
"Tommy, your genes are too precious. You must procreate. I promise to be your
mistress for the rest of my life, but I can't be your wife."
"God damn it Sara, there's nothing special about my genes, and I would rather
have you as my wife than have a son and lose you."
"Tommy, it's all so complicated. I want you forever, but I also want Elena, and
you understand why I can't give you children."
Tom could not understand his lover. She was not talking crazy, but what she did
say was weird. They lay naked on the bed, kissing, Tom's palm on Sara's left
breast, when Elena, coming home early, interrupted them.
* * *
Tom looked up, startled, at the woman who was clad in a business suit and stood
as ramrod straight as a marine. He tried to cover himself, but it was hopeless.
"Sara, we have to talk," she said coldly, turned, and walked out of the room.
Sara looked at Tom. Her expression was a mixture of childish mirth and adult
concern. She got up from the bed, put on a robe and left the room. Tom dressed
quickly and thought of climbing out the window to escape the scorn of Sara's
housemate. Instead, he sat back in a comfortable leather chair and recalled the
exquisite pleasure that he had just experienced with Sara. He wondered if her
thighs had always been that lovely. He tried to remember them at age twelve.
They had been more slender then. He recalled licking on them. He remembered
going down on her for the first time and tasting her, bringing her to a
squealing
orgasm. It had been so much simpler then, loving her.
Sara returned to the room with a sad frown on her face.
"You'll have to leave," she said.
"I thought so," Tom responded with a grin. "Your friend didn't seem too happy."
"She hates men and she is very angry."
"Well, then I won't come back here. I'll get a place of my own where we can be
together."
"I'd like that," Sara said, her arms around his neck, speaking into his face
before she kissed him.
* * *
For the next two weeks Sara shared her body with two lovers, so unlike each
other, who gave her such remarkably different pleasures. Elena rubbed her to
pleasure as she reclined on the large bed in Elena's room, feeling the woman's
soft body against hers, clutching to her and kissing desperately. Then, later,
Tommy would lick on her body and penetrate her with his thick penis, bringing
her
to orgasm quickly. It was almost a contest between Tommy and Elena, the prize
being the lovely Sara.
* * *
"I want both of you," Sara murmured into Tom's ear as he lay atop her, her voice
a bit ragged as she recovered from a shattering orgasm. "I refuse to chose
between you."
Tom's spent penis wilted and slipped out of the young woman.
"I'm not asking you to chose," he responded and rolled off her.
They lay in each other's arms, sweaty and sticky. The odor of sex was heavy in
the air of Tom's shabby, one room apartment. He had come three times in about an
hour, during which time he had continuously fucked his beloved Sara, bringing
her to orgasm after orgasm, and who was now weak from sexual dissipation.
"I love you both so dearly. It panics me to think that I might lose one of you.
It would kill me to lose both of you."
"Has there ever been a time when you have not known me?" Tom replied with a
twinge of anger in his voice. "I'll never leave you, no matter what."
Sara caressed his cheek and said "I trust your love, and I never want to be away
from you. But I can't be without Elena. I need her as much as I need you,
although differently. I feel that I'm in the middle with the two of you pulling
me on either side. I want us to come together, to form a triangle."
Tom thought about the implication of that statement.
"I don't think that I'm up to having two women. Besides, she hates men."
"No, not really. She doesn't like most of them, but you could charm her."
Sara lay against her lover, feeling his warmth, licking his shoulder.
"Marry me!" Tom insisted again.
"No. I want you to marry Elena," Sara responded in a soft voice, her hand
playing with one of his nipples.
Tom was dumbstruck by her words. The idea was ridiculous. The only time that he
had ever met the woman he had been buck naked with Sara in his arms. He had
never talked to her. He did not know her.
"I know that you're thinking that I'm talking foolish," Sara continued, "but
this
is the best way. This way we could bond together forever."
"But she's a lesbian!"
"She desperately wants to have children. She told me that she was thinking of
going to a clinic, to be artificially inseminated. You could do it the old
fashioned way, and your children will need a father. I'll live with you and be
the kids' auntie."
"Have you talked to her about this bizarre idea of yours?"
"Not yet, but I will.
Tom thought that, were it not so serious, Sara's entire line of reasoning
deserved a chuckle. He was worried. Was his girl quite stable? The idea of
marrying a complete stranger, a man hating lesbian, was just too outrageous.
* * *
"She's not playing games with us; she's quite sincere. Sara's desperate, you
know. You're the anchor of her life, and I, somehow, have become necessary to
her. She would unravel completely, I fear, if she lost one of us."
Elena spoke softly but firmly, punctuating her words with stabs of her finger
onto the coffee table in front of her, a table strewn with fine arts magazines,
auction catalogues, literary publications, and a musical score. Tom felt uneasy
in the presence of the woman, who appeared so soft, yet seemed to be so
domineering. He was very much attracted to her. Her stern face was quite
lovely. He had never before met a woman like her, so in control of herself and
her environment. He looked at her, into her face, and she did not flinch. She
stared back and Tom lowered his eyes in embarrassment. Elena seemed to Tom to be
so elegant, so distant from his own experiences, so tasteful and accomplished.
He felt inferior to her somehow, and he feared that she was capable of stealing
Sara from him.
"Sara says that you have very good genes," Elena said after a long pause,
smiling
at Tom for the first time.
"I don't really know what she means by that," Tom confessed.
"I think that the considers you to be a man of high intelligence and good
character."
Tom's eyes dwelt on Elena's knees and her shapely, slender calves, and then
muttered, "I hope she's right about that."
"I suspect that she is," Elena responded, crossing her legs demurely.
"What are we going to do?" Elena continued. "Sara doesn't give us much wriggle
room."
"Do you hate men?" Tom asked, and immediately felt foolish at the question.
"No. I'm impatient with them often, and I'm frequently disgusted by them. But,
then, I have never really known a man," she said with an intention which Tom
immediately grasped; Elena was a virgin.
"Tom, I can't say that I love Sara more than you; our love for her is so
different. But I would do anything for her, for her well being. Her suggestion
that the two of us get married so that the three of us can live together without
tension has some merit. We both want children and we both want Sara, and what
she proposes seems to give us each of those."
Tom suddenly felt very uneasy. He had expected Elena to reject Sara's notion out
of hand. It seemed now to him that if he didn't marry this twenty seven year
old lesbian, however attractive and virginal, he would be betraying Sara, the
focus of his life, who desperately needed him . . .. and Elena. He shook his
head in frustration.
Elena looked at the young man sitting opposite her. She thought that he was
bright and had a good future, but that at the moment he was callow. She would
have to take charge of him without bruising his ego.
"Marriage is not out of the question, as far as I'm concern," she said softly.
Tom suddenly looked up into Elena's face, who smiled at him warmly. He then knew
that his fate was sealed, that he had lost control over his life, that he had
been conquered by two women. He did not think of the positive aspects of the
situation. He just felt powerless.
* * *
Tom went down on Sara and didn't want to come up. Her soft thigh flesh caressed
his cheeks. He relished her pungent scent and the wetness that covered his lower
face as he licked on her unrelentingly. Sara squirmed, groaned and cried aloud
in orgasm, again and again, until she needed relief and pushed Tom's head away.
He nipped her skin with his teeth as he moved up her body and came atop of her.
He plunged himself into her warm, wet tightness and gasped in pleasure. They
held each other tightly as they fucked, kissing and mewling. Tom sensed Sara's
pleasure mount. He pounded her, as he knew she liked, wanting to squeeze from
his beloved girl the last iota of ecstasy. She came suddenly, crying aloud,
digging her nails into his back, sucking on his neck. He thrust violently into
her, in and out, fast, prolonging her orgasm and causing his own. Tom yelled out
without inhibition as he came.
They lay in each other's arms, sated, yet still excited, kissing and nibbling on
each other. It was the last time for just the two of them. On the following
afternoon Tom would marry Elena in a brief civil ceremony.
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