Let's Make a Deal Pt. 04

They looked at each other. Martha said, "For me, I'll have to see. Depending on what we are doing or have done, I may even like it, I think, but I really don't know." Lynda nodded but didn't say anything. Scott thought that the dark clouds had come back a little, though.

"And if, in, um, an intimate moment, I say, 'I love you', please consider it as the result of years of habit, and momentary feelings, not a statement of undying devotion. I hope you won't find it offensive, if it happens."

They looked at each other again, but neither said anything.

15. Big Brother is watching you.

After a moment, Scott said, "OK, then, just a couple more topics. One of them already came up in a way with Martha, while you were out. There are little signs by the doors saying that the building is under 'video surveillance', as they put it, and that all activities are monitored, and there are a few obvious security cameras around. I don't go out of my way to tell everyone that there are a lot more cameras, hidden, as well. In fact, every area except the bathrooms is covered. And of course, who goes in and out of those is captured, too.

"With the exception of this office, here, they're all normally active all the time. There are motion sensors everywhere, tied in with the alarms—oh! don't let me forget to check you out on those before we leave!—but also generating logs whenever they detect anything. I use those to know what times to look at in the camera logs, and which logs—even on fast forward, trying to look at everything could eat most of my days. Anyway, after hours, if the sensors detect anything, the view from a camera in that area pops up on my screen automatically, with an alert chime. Please don't discuss this with anyone else, for obvious reasons, but total honesty has to go both ways.

"But what I really need to tell you about, again for reasons of honesty, is this. When I'm alone in my office, I turn off the camera in here. When anyone else comes in, I turn it on, so everything is recorded. This turned out to be something I needed, a few times, so I try to be completely consistent about it.

"So when each of you came in to see me, those conversations were recorded. And earlier tonight, as I outlined the deal, that too. Given the personal nature of those conversations, I deleted them from the main camera logs, but I stored them in a safe place. I'm sorry. I'm trusting you with lots of stuff, but one event in particular taught me a hard lesson. To make a long story short, a woman accused me of, um, of trying to rape her. It was totally made up. She'd stayed after hours, working a little late, and we had talked for a few minutes. Just by luck, the place she said it happened (and yes, it was where we had been talking) was in full view of one of the few security cameras we had then. I was able to bundle up all the logs for several days, and they're all time-stamped of course, and get myself cleared. In fact, she wound up charged with perjury, or rather, filing a false police report or something. I'm not telling you this to frighten you or even to warn you, but because I've promised not to keep things like this from you. Your original offers, and our discussion—my lecture, if you prefer—earlier, are recorded and stored in a safe place.

"From here on out, if it's just the three of us, or me with either one of you, in here, that camera will be asleep. It is now. You can always, any time, ask me to make sure that's the case, or better yet check it yourself. But, well, I promised you no embarrassing videos. I suppose you could call those discussions embarrassing, so maybe that alone is a violation. But what I'm really heading toward is this: Martha, when you came over and kissed me, I wasn't expecting it at all. That, and what you said right after it, are at the end of that file. I'm sorry. I would have stopped the camera a little earlier if I'd known. I'll treasure that kiss in memory, but I really am sorry that it got saved on disk. I can only say that barring some kind of major issues, no one will ever view it. It's not where anyone can get at it, short of a court order, and eventually I'll destroy all those recordings, but not at all soon."

Martha finally said, "Scott, I have no problem at all with that. I trust you completely on this. I can't imagine you ever showing all that talk to anyone unless we do something to make you, and we won't. And thank you for telling us."

16. There is a place for everything In earth, or sky, or sea,

Scott said, "Then just one or two more things. Where is anything more going to happen? Besides the fact that people do sometimes have to work late, and the cleaning people are in here many nights, this place isn't exactly set up for sexual activity. I'd offer my apartment, but I really don't think it will do. The walls aren't very soundproof, and I have nosy neighbors. No security cameras needed there, my comings and goings are monitored. If I brought two women there for more than a few minutes, the whole building would know it by the end of the next day, and half the city within a couple more days. And I suspect at least one of my immediate neighbors would be listening closely, ear against the wall even, trying to hear what we were talking about or doing. These are great folks, you understand, but many of them are older, with too much time on their hands and nothing much to do except watch each other and gossip.

"I know you have a house, and I think it's a little out of town, but I don't really know where it is. Do you have nosy neighbors? Any possibility of being able to bring me in and out on a regular basis without its being obvious? I hate to invite myself over, but if it can work it really looks to me like the best bet."

Martha said, "You're welcome to come over, most any time. Any time we don't have company or somewhere we've got to go. All the houses around us are set well back from the road, and there are big lots and trees everywhere, so no one can see anything, even in winter. The garage is at the back, so you can park without anyone being able to see your car, and in fact there's room in the garage for you to park there any time."

Lynda said, "You can sometimes hear cars going up and down driveways, but even that is iffy. It's Martha's house, and I don't have any right on my own to say you can or can't come over, of course." This time she stuck her tongue out at Martha. Scott had been a little worried again about her attitude. After he brought up the cameras, it had seemed to him that she had pulled back into herself, but maybe she had come out again now.

17. The Shape of Things to Come

Scott said, "Let's talk about the immediate program, then. You know what we did tonight. Again, for a bunch of reasons my plan was to start with the things you'd be most likely to find most unpleasant, most likely to change your minds. You know about tonight. For tomorrow I was thinking of anal sex. I've never done that, and I'm curious. I had heard that some women liked it, but always had written that off as a men's old wives' tale. I gather from things I've read more recently that I was wrong. But it seems to me (and what I read bears it out) that it's likely to be at least uncomfortable, probably painful, maybe excruciatingly painful, at least unless you do it often enough to keep things stretched.

"Martha, you said someone used to do that to you. Did she use fingers, tongue, dildo?"

"All of those, but mostly fingers and dildo." She laughed. "I'm now, finally, in a position to say, personally and with authority, that the dildo she preferred was pretty much anatomically correct. I think you're a little thicker but not quite as long, though. And the, whatever you call the hanging part with the balls in it, wasn't as big at all—besides being pretty much rigid."

"That's the scrotum. I'm fine with 'balls', too, but I'm more likely to say 'testicles' or 'testes', just so it doesn't throw you. If it ever comes up again. I'd probably never say 'rocks' or 'nuts', but you hear those a lot.

"Anyway, there's one important difference, which won't surprise you at all at this point. The dildo wouldn't have sprayed a lot of liquid—or semiliquid stuff—into your butt. From logic, and from stuff I've read, that can cause cramps and diarrhea, either soon or hours later. The more you can clear out before we do it, and then the sooner and better you can push out what I put in, the less painful things are likely to be, if I understand correctly.

"And I'm sorry, what I read says that it should be less painful if I start with a finger and work up, but I'm not going to. I promise to try to take it slow, but I hope it won't hurt too much. If it does, let me know, and I'll try to back off and slow down, but there are limits to how much I can.

"Oh, and one more thing. Do you have, either or both of you, a supply of a vaginal lubricant, or whatever it's called? I can pick some up before tomorrow night if I have to, though I admit I find the prospect somewhat embarrassing."

"We have at least a tube and a half somewhere, probably more," Martha said. "It dates back a long way, before Lynda, and it's not something we normally use, but you don't need to get more at this point, I'm sure."

"Anyway, that's the only thing for tomorrow night. Period. My plan for Wednesday night is for moving toward sex—to be specific, making out. Kissing and fondling, in other words. I really didn't expect Martha to jump me into that tonight. At the end, I'm expecting to offer you a choice, oral sex or intercourse. I'm afraid I'll insist on some kind of satisfaction for myself, anyway. And I don't know which one you're likely to go for, Lynda. I have a guess about Martha, but I don't really know, and I'll insist on giving her the choice at the time. Probably intercourse the next time, in any case. I hope that's all clear enough.

"Now. Having basically invited myself into your home, kind of long term, I should ask: What do you two normally do about dinner? Go out? Carry in? Cook?"

Martha said, "I've never been willing to spend what it costs to eat out all the time, and buying carryout really isn't much better. We sometimes do, but mostly we cook. Or just eat something we have on hand. It's generally healthier, too."

"Unless you object, I'd like to be included. I certainly don't mean to burden you on that. I'm not really that much of a cook, but I'll happily help if you tell me what you want me to do. And I can do a whole meal occasionally. But my main point is, you can either ask me to do some of the shopping, or ask me to pay for a reasonable share of your grocery bills."

Scott noticed that Lynda seemed to be staring at him in amazement. "What's wrong, Lynda? You promised me sex, and lots of it whether you realized that or not, but not to feed me for free. I'm only asking to use your place because it's what seems workable. I'd be ashamed to dump a lot of costs on you too. Or is it something else?"

She shook her head. "My dad always left all that stuff to my mom. Oh, he earned most of the money, but he griped about how much she spent on groceries, but she bought what he wanted to eat, and he griped if he didn't get it. He never would have done a thing to help in the kitchen. You didn't say anything about cleanup, but I'm guessing you'll just jump in and help there." She got up and came around the desk to him. "I'm sorry. I've been thinking of you as kind of a cross between Dad and Ron, or something like that. And you're not like either of them." She hugged him briefly. "Thank you for being different. I really mean it." She went around back to her seat.

Scott said, "Well, I've certainly washed my share of dishes." He went on. "I'd like to plan to monopolize your evenings for the next couple of days. As I said, I want you both to come in early, and your first job will be oral sex. I'll let you settle who that is, unless I see some reason to overrule you. But I know that, plus evenings, plus work, plus sleep I hope, just won't leave enough time for all the other things life requires. Hey, I've got to do my own laundry sometimes, too, for that matter. So, much as I'm going to want more sex than I'll get, we're going to have to settle into some kind of more reasonable schedule. I want you two to be thinking about it separately and together. I don't even know whether you have evening commitments any days.

"So. What am I missing? That's all I have for tonight, myself. Is there anything else we need to talk about now?"

18. Eso Beso

Martha said, "Well, yes, now that you ask." Her face was red. "Scott, I know you've got your program. And we both promised to do what you want." She was even redder. Scott was pretty sure that she was only blushing from some kind of embarrassment, but she was so red he wasn't sure. "But somewhere in there, you said that we could ask for a change. And if you say no, it's your decision. But will you please have sex with me? Tonight? Right now?"

Scott felt like she had been jerking the rug from under his feet all evening. He didn't know what to make of this. What was she thinking? He sighed and said, "You've probably figured out already how much I want to do just that. There are a couple of things. One probably wouldn't make me say no, but . . . Um. You see, I really, honestly figured you, both of you, would want to postpone that moment, when you have to have sex with a man, as long as possible. Obviously, I was wrong. But I think I'm going to have to ask you to explain what's going on. Why do you want this tonight? I really want to understand, and I don't. At all."

She blushed—yes, that's what it had to be—even redder, which he'd have sworn was just plain impossible. "You shouldn't have any trouble once I tell you," she said. "It's pretty much what you said earlier about yourself.

"OK, so Thursday I came up with the idea of asking if you'd take sex in exchange for giving me one more chance. Or of signaling that I was willing, I suppose, but that's how I was thinking of it. I thought and thought about it, and Friday I decided I'd do it. Please understand, I thought you'd turn me down flat, but I was desperate and I couldn't think of anything else even that likely to work. And I thought, maybe if you wouldn't, if I offered that, you still might realize how serious I was and let me come back. I didn't have anything to lose by trying, that's for sure.

"Well, by then it was too late in the day to do anything about it, I thought, but deciding made me feel, well, I don't know how to describe it. Bold and naughty, maybe. But it made me feel sexy in a way I haven't for years and years, maybe ever. And the more I thought about it, the more I felt that way, all weekend."

Lynda broke in. "OK, so now I understand! That's why you were so eager Saturday night!" She looked at Scott. "You need to know, Martha really isn't as, um, into sex as most people seem to be. As I am, for sure. I know you don't want to hear details about what we do, but pretty much I'm the one who initiates sex, and I guess the one who really enjoys it, mostly. And Saturday night was probably the best I've ever had with her, ever. I won't say more."

"I don't want detailed descriptions for the sake of my, my prurient interest, to coin a phrase. I mean, if a description would be mostly designed turn me on, it's not something I'll like. But something like you just said, that will help me understand you or Martha in ways I should, just go ahead and tell me. For that matter, at some times I'll probably want pointers from your greater experience and understanding of what may give a woman pleasure. I'd have to rate my marriage as fairly dismal in that area—certainly I didn't really ever learn. Of course, I do know women don't always want or respond to the same thing.

"Martha?"

"So I came in to see you this morning, and after we talked I thought you were going to take me up on it after all! Not quite the way it happened, of course. I kind of thought you were planning to talk to me some—you'd said that much—but then take me home with you, or to a motel or something, or even just bend me over your desk the way they usually do in porn videos. That one didn't really sound like you, but, well . . . . And thinking that turned me on more and more and more. I can't tell you how eager I was this evening! I'm pretty sure that even if you had just bent me over and pulled down my pants, I'd have enjoyed it as much as I've ever enjoyed sex. I was that ready and eager.

"So you brought Lynda in, which kind of turned things back down, but then as you explained, I got hotter and hotter again. You weren't turning me down! And as you talked and talked, I realized that you were trying as hard as you could to make sure you wouldn't abuse us—me!—or force me into anything I didn't want. You've been trying so hard at that, that you forgot that maybe I did want it. And your thoughtfulness, that way, just made me want it more.

"And handling you, um, your penis, and everything involved might have been a turnoff if you had acted differently, but you were so careful at each step to make sure things were OK with us. As it was, well, it was my first real 'sexual contact', as you keep putting it, with any man, and for that reason alone it was just another huge turn-on! Scott, we both promised to do anything you want, and you keep holding back, trying to make sure everything is OK with us too. Do you have any idea how exciting that was to me? You just kept it up too long. I've been sitting here wanting you to do something to me for hours now.

"I hope that explains it clearly enough, because I don't know what more I can say."

Scott said, "No, that's plenty clear. But there's one more thing that you seem to have forgotten, maybe. I'm not going to have sex with you without protection. Nothing is perfect, so even with protection there's still a chance of a baby, but we're going to keep the chances as low as possible."

Martha said, "I'm almost ready not to care about that, I want you so much! But thank you! But I was hoping I could convince you to use a condom."

Scott sighed again. "Chris and I used condoms for a while, and I really hated it. It's like it took half the feeling away. More than half. And . . . I don't whether it was the condoms or whether they made me move differently, or what, but I think they made it worse for her too. It was like she never got aroused. It's a long time ago, and I don't remember as well as I should, but I don't think she ever had an orgasm, even once, that whole time. Yes, I know we're going to have to use them. I'm not willing to accept weeks of nothing but oral sex, until you're on the pill long enough, even if you girls would be. But I'm having trouble being enthusiastic at the prospect.

"But here's the rub. I don't have any condoms. Why would I? It's been over twenty years since I've had any need for them. And I wasn't expecting to need them ever again, before you walked into my office this morning."

"I didn't expect you to, of course. But after it seemed that you were saying yes, or at least maybe, to me, and I thought maybe we were going to do it right after work, well, this afternoon I bought some." She was avoiding his eyes again, and her face was very red.

"OK, so you've thought of everything." He paused a moment. "Did all this happen to have any relation to your impatience with my talking so much, and, well, that kiss?"

Martha blushed more again. "Of course it did. I really, really am turned on. But I meant what I said, too! Even if I wasn't, and with no deal involved, I'm grateful enough to do whatever I can. Anything!"