My Second Piece of Ass Ch. 33

A tear was rolling down Petri's cheek and her lips were too weak to smile. I wanted to break the tension.

"Of course, when I saw that thing you were wearing today I wasn't sure I even knew you because it doesn't....."

She shoved me with both hands and soon we were rolling around on the bed, giggling, kissing, me grappling with her bra strap and her fumbling to get my shorts off. Everything stopped when she touched my cock.

"Small," she murmured, obviously dazed.

"Really? Just how many of these things have you seen?"

"Huh?" My cock was pulsating in her hand. "Oh, no, I meant my tits. They're small."

"Don't ever say that. They look perfect to me." I leaned forward and took one of her nipples between my lips. She shivered but still didn't let go of my cock. Her hand felt warm and small. She didn't squeeze or move her hand. She didn't explore. She held me and I wanted her to. Time passed. I was overcome by her soft touch.

"You're going to make me...." My warning was too late. I soaked her panties and some of it landed on her stomach. She laughed but still held on to me, even as it shrunk she held me.

We pulled down her panties and used them to wipe the droplets off of her tummy.

"You know I love you, don't you," she sounded nervous. She had finally released my cock.

"Of course I do." We had often expressed our love but not in such a demonstrative way.

"It's just that I don't know if that thing will fit."

The rustle downstairs woke us. "I guess we should go down and face the music. Is it okay if I wear this thing again? I'll throw it away after this once, honest. It's just that I've got this pad on and..."

"It's okay. Put it on," I said, dressing quickly myself.

Suddenly Petri was asking my opinion about everything. Did I like her hair this way? Were her tits really to my liking? It wasn't like her to question her own instincts. I didn't like it and I told her so.

"Honey, just because I popped your cherry doesn't mean I tell you what to do. I like your independent side. You don't have to ask me anything."

She came to me, her hair out of place, she was barefooted and the jumpsuit zipper was completely open, showing the clean panties that she wore to hold the sanitary napkin in place.

Rosita and Laura were clearing the dining room table when we joined them down stairs, chatting cheerily as if they never expected us to do the dishes.

"How was it?" Laura asked. Both women looked at Petri, ignoring me.

"It was okay but we're glad to get it over," Petri answered for both of us without a moment's hesitation and without looking my way for guidance. "It will be better next time, I'm sure." Now she was looking at me, adoringly.

My lack of experience with virgins was what made it less than perfect. She was right; I was glad that it was over too. I had tried. God! How I had tried. But I think her comment about my size, which to my thinking was unfounded, told me of her fear.

I spent a half hour exploring her body, sucking, nibbling and telling her how beautiful she was. I got acquainted with her breasts, and then I moved down, stopping at her tummy before diving into her pussy, teasing her clit. She came at least twice, possibly three times before she stopped me.

"You're big again," she exclaimed.

"Do you want to hold it some more?" I offered, not really wanting to go through that again.

"No, I'm ready now. Let's try it," she said bravely.

And we did but it wasn't my finest hour. I've heard that some girls tear their hymen on a vibrator or hairbrush handle or while riding horseback, but not so with Petri. My future wife had a tough one. We fell asleep, me telling her again that I loved her.

"It will get better next time," Petri repeated to Laura and Rosita. "I just hope he didn't knock me up."

We all laughed but Petri was quite serious. "I don't want to have to move the wedding up." We laughed again but she just looked at us. She was right about it being better the next time and every time after. When I gave her the ring at Christmas she showed no surprise. It was as if she was expecting it. The announcement appeared in the local newspaper the following day, as if it had been written months before, stating we were to be married June 14th.

My phone rang again as we were entering the outskirts of our town. I had been following the ambulance for 200 miles, in a dreamlike trance.

"Mama's going to meet you at the funeral home," Petri said. "She has a list. She's already been to Laura's apartment to pick out the dress and she wants to be sure they know how to fix her hair. Be a dear and let her handle things."

"Yes dear."

"Oh, and honey, mama wants you to deliver the eulogy so you need to be thinking about what you're going to say."

"Yes dear."

I took one last look at Laura as I stepped to the podium. She looked peaceful in a plain white dress. Around her neck was the trinket I had sent from Korea for her thirtieth birthday. So much for this being a private service, I thought, looking out at the audience. My family was in the front row, some of them overflowing across the aisle where Rosita was sitting with Jake and Huley. They looked eager to hear what I had to say about Aunt Laura, not that they were likely to hear anything they didn't already know. Behind my family sat the ladies from the Waite Home, looking strained but eager to hear what I had to say. On the other side were employees from our company and friends and business acquaintances. As I surveyed the scene it was gratifying to see what thirty-five years in my adopted home had yielded. But it was Laura's life we were celebrating. They were there for her, not me.

The Eulogy

"When I first met Aunt Laura she went by another name. Her dying wish was that I tell the truth and I plan to do just that. Laura never hid the fact that, in her early life, she had been a prostitute and she would be the first to tell you she was a damn good one. There is not one of us here today who was not touched by Laura. She made us better people. She sacrificed more for all of us, before many of you were born, than you'll ever know. She often credited me with giving her the motivation to pull herself from a life of despair. But in truth it was she who propped me up and gave me reason to stand tall. I loved her from the moment I met her and she loved every one of us.

I was her R and R. Laura T Stone was my sister, my confidant, my friend, my business partner and My Second Piece of Ass."

The End