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A visit with Aubt IdaBefore I could actually do anything about my plan to whore for Al, or do any more of the focused sex stuff with him, his wife Rosalie or my old friend Michael, I got a call from my mom’s sister, my Aunt Ida: “I hear you and your mom are not doing so well right now. If you can do it, get on the damn train and come up here and see me. You know where I live, right?” That’s all she said, but three days later, I received a round trip ticket in the mail for the Santa Fe train that went right through the middle of Berkeley and stopped at the station on University Avenue, right below Sacramento Street. I had done a train trip to see her when I was eight, and I remember how easily I could walk to her house from the station if I didn’t mind a mile walk through a really cool part of Berkeley by my eight-year-old self. My Aunt Ida was a hippie before the term came to be. I had a ton of questions about love, sex, music, and business. It had been clear to me that attending high school was not going to help me with anything. Here’s my story, please let me tell it before you jump all over me or call my mom a c***d m*****er or something. My mom walked in on me when I was doing a boy, not really my boyfriend, just a cute boy I knew. I was a student of everything when I was fifteen, and sucking dick was one of the skills I wanted to improve, to master. He’d already splattered me. I had his jizz all over me, on my face and in my hair. I was just fifteen, I liked that, I thought it was sexy as hell, and I was on his cock with all the skill and tricks I knew so he would pop another load on me, bigger than the first one. I forgot to close the door to my bedroom, and my mom walked by, home from work, and saw her daughter with a cock in her mouth and some boy’s jizz all over her. She got mad at me for forgetting to close the door, but she also got excited. Like really turned on. After Roger left, she had me come to her room to talk, but we ended up having sex. So I was eating the pussy that my own mom had pushed me through, her ass and everything else. She did me the same way. She told me that she was horny for me when I was a little girl, but she never touched me then. She thought, now that I was fifteen, and having sexual adventures of my own, that having sex with me might be okay. You might think this to be too kinky and weird, but she didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do already. This led to an orgy with mom, her lover Cecil, me and my friend Judy less than twelve hours later.. Even my sister Rachel got into it. It was a balls-out orgy, every orifice on everyone’s body got used, whatever went in or stuck out on anybody’s body got a lot of attention. I fucked her boyfriend right in front of her and he came all over both of us. I hadn’t had sex with an adult man who knew what to do before. I loved it. He fucked me till I came. He fucked her till she had a noisy shouting come, four inches away. I had never come from fucking before. After this, I also had sex with just her, more than once. I loved it. She did too. That freaked me out if you can understand. My dad, when he found out, threw both of us out of the house. He was a great dad. I hated hurting him the way I did, but there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t apologize when I knew, in my heart, that I would have sex with her again. All she had to do was to let me know that she wanted me and that she was available. I’d be in bed with her with no clothes on in a jack-rabbit flash. I had no idea, none, about how I was supposed to handle this. I sure didn’t want to send her to jail. With all this going on, Mom and I stopped talking to each other. She had put her marriage, her whole professional life on the line to have sex with me, her firstborn c***d and oldest daughter. I used to be able to talk with her about absolutely anything, but everything was different now. Now I was a slut, a pig, a total perv loser whore. I decided, after drinking a whole fifth of Jack Daniel whiskey, and then puking for hours, that I must really BE a whore. I could not let this thing go. During the next year, I fucked every boy with pants and a few who wore dresses. Judy and I did crazy stuff, like giving out blowjobs to total strangers at a “glory hole” place Judy knew about. I was focused enough to keep my musical thing going. I began to be featured in little clubs around Los Angeles. Sometimes I had to fuck or blow somebody to get the job. I didn’t hesitate. I took a leave from high school, where I had been an honor roll student since I was five. and tried to make a living with my music, to literally sing for my supper. I didn’t make a lot of money, just enough to pay some bills, pay the rent, and buy my own food. Maybe you saw me then. I stood two inches under five feet, with super curly red hair and really prominent breasts for a young woman my size. My dad told me once to never back down to anyone who wasn’t holding a gun to my face, and I never did. Well, hardly ever. A lesbian with a butch haircut took me home with her after a show and quickly learned how much I like to play the sub role with certain women. She shoved a dildo up my ass and fucked me so long and so hard, I was laughing and weeping at the same time. The next day. when I had to poop out of my used and bruised ass, it was more like weeping all the time! While I was singing in a club, I met a nice guy named Al Lombardi, more than twenty years older than I was. He took me home. I fucked him. I fucked his wife Rosalie, too. I thought both of them were wonderful people and fantastic lovers. I loved having sex with serious grown-ups. I didn’t care at all that he was big and fat, or that he had a cock that was not very long. One of the things I had learned about myself and sex was that I preferred fat cocks to long ones, though I don’t remember turning any man or boy away because of their dick size. I’m really small in the pussy area, so I don’t care to fuck enormous dicks. I pleaded with Al to set me on a path to whoring, with him as my pimp and sugar daddy. I had not given up on my dream of being the great diva, one of the great sopranos of the world. I thought if I had to whore myself to do it, that that wasn’t something that no other woman had ever done. After all, I grew up in Hollywood. All the way up from Los Angeles on the train, a slow one that stopped at every little town in the central valley, I had been thinking about sex, not in any practical sense. No, not me. I was usually mentally organized, in control of everything , but now I was so dreamy, looking out the window, seeing Al or Judy’s fat naked body in every rounded hill. I closed my eyes and thought about both of their big bodies on top of me, eating my pussy or fucking my ass, pushing me through the mattress, or trying to. I couldn’t speak for any other woman. but I really loved to be smothered by my lover’s body, and those two were two who could really fuckin’ do it. When I thought about them and sex, I was getting my panties wet, having a steady slutty rush that connected somehow with the swaying train car. The car would bounce, and I’d feel Al push his fat dick into me. The whole train would jiggle, and I’d close my eyes and have Judy’s nipple in my mouth. And the fuck? or was it plural? I loved the fucks they gave me when it was like that; the sweat, the body hair, the smell, the words and fucky-fucky non words. I thought about that on the entire trip on that train, and after a few hours, my thoughts were so intense that I retreated to the Santa Fe coach car ladies toilet to “do a little handwork”, so I could get my poor mind onto something else. The little come I got from wanking helped, but even so, my mind kept going back to a time when I was flat on my back, arms and legs wrapped around Judy; her on top of me, our legs scissored so that her pussy was rubbing mine. My fantasies shifted more and more toward Judy as I rode through Manteca and Modesto and other sun-soaked towns along the way. When the train got to Martinez, I knew we were getting close. It was super hot outside. The image, no, the whole sense of Judy, all of her on top of me, her pussy pushed against mine, her fucking me with that strap-on, going down on me, me fucking HER in the ass, my face in the folds of her wet cunt, trying to catch my breath, the taste, the smell of her, stayed with me until the train reached the new (really old) station in Emeryville. I was partly getting out of Los Angeles because of the business with my mom, but I was afraid to fantasize about THAT! I was so far out in dreamland that I didn’t get off at the station where I should have, at the bottom of University Avenue, near the bay.Between the Free Speech Movement at UC Berkeley and all the anti-war pendik escort stuff that was really taking off then, Mario Savio, Stew Albert and all of those characters, Berkeley seemed like a pretty wild place to me. To be honest, it scared me. I liked it much better on the west side of San Pablo Avenue, where things hadn’t changed very much over the years. Old wood-frame houses were cheap, and there were stores and shops and bars and mom and pop places everywhere.I realized I could have gotten off in Berkeley in that neighborhood just about the time the train pulled into the gloomy old station in Emeryville. I was getting confused. I knew that “Emeryville” was close to Oakland and Berkeley, but the station was way back in a neighborhood that I didn’t know at all. I was so light-headed. I had barely eaten for hours. The station looked tired and dirty, I don’t think that the Santa Fe railroad had paid anybody to clean the windows in the last fifty years.I watched the train that should have put me close to Ida’s house pull away toward downtown Oakland, while I stood on the platform, like an eight-year-old, watching it. In addition to everything else, I had misplaced Ida’s phone number. I wasn’t sure at that moment whether I should be allowed to travel by myself. How was I going to do the thing I had talked with Al about when I couldn’t even manage a fucking train ride? I walked around the old station soaking up all the sadness in each dust mote that floated by under the huge overhead frosted window. This feeling of hopelessness went on for a while. I found a lunch counter and ate a hot dog that tasted like world war 2 on a bun. I decided that being inside, waiting for something to happen wasn’t working at all, and sad and alone was the very last jar on my emotional shelf that I wanted to open today..I decided to take a bus up San Pablo Avenue and get off near Gilman Street and walk to her house. The bus driver wanted exact change and all I had was a ten-dollar bill and eight hundred in my sock inside my shoe. He wasn’t going to let me ride. I gave him a ten-dollar bill and told him that was for me and the next nine people. He looked at me kind of funny, but he was okay with it. When the bus got out to Gilman and San Pablo, on the other side of Berkeley, I saw a crazy looking car turning the corner onto San Pablo Avenue. I pulled the cord and started yelling: “LET ME OFF RIGHT NOW! i’m SHITTING MY PANTS!!!” I wasn’t really, but I figured that would get his attention fast.I made the bus stop in the middle of the street and pointed to the door.” LET ME OFF RIGHT NOW!!!!” I had been trained as an opera singer. I could get real loud if I needed to, especially for a woman who stood less than five feet high. He said something people said to each other than, (it was before people said “Have a nice day” all the time) but I think he mostly wanted to get this crazy girl off his bus before something went seriously awry.I knew it was her right away. Grabbing my bag, I ran across the busy four-lane avenue, madly dodging cars and other buses, and jumped in her car.Ida never got rattled about anything. “Hi, Sylvia, get in, I was just going to the station to see if you were maybe there.” Traffic was beginning to back up around us, other drivers were yelling and blowing their horns, but that didn’t stop her from leaning over and kissing me, right on my mouth. Wow. Since the last time I saw Ida, she had painted her Crosely with The “Fool” tarot card image. It was prominently displayed over the entire hood of the car. In addition to the tarot deck, there were plenty of stars, moons, and comets, too.Not very many people did this kind of painting in 1965.Ida’s car had so many dents and dings it looked as if somebody made it for her in arts and crafts class at day camp, but, in a way like Ida herself, the outside could fool you if you didn’t pay attention. She was short, cursed like every female in our Ashkenazic line with that fat, but not fat in the way that my friend and lover, Judy Chaez was fat. Judy weighed close to three hundred, but she had a shape for all that, breasts, butt, hips, thighs all clearly delineated. Ida’s body parts kind of flow from one region to another. Her hair was frizzy and had a lot of iron-gray and white in the coal-black she was born with. Ida was a passionate woman,` had delighted many lovers, men, and women, since she had started her love life when she was little more than a girl. She had lovers and men and women who hoped to be or wished they were again.. Ida told me before that she wasn’t at all sure that she and my mom (who she called “Bobbie”) had the same father. Her own father, who she only met a few times, died in World War 2 when he was a prisoner of the Japanese being held in Hiroshima, and the Americans dropped the atomic bomb on him, six other Americans and 100,000 Japanese people, almost all of them not soldiers. Ida never got any money or anything from the government, because he and Ruth Howard had never been married.”You know, my mom, Ruth Howard, wasn’t as fussy about that as a lot of women. Ruth Howard had a lot of lovers, too. “Ida was a painter and a cabinet maker. She had an entire woodworking shop in her garage there on Seventh, and her house was full of painter’s stuff. I loved loved loved to visit her. Like her mom, she never treated me like a little k** even when I was a little k**. I don’t think she knew how.We were driving down San Pablo, away from her house, in the Crosley. She called it the” Chicken Coop de Ville”.”Honey, I hear you are fucking everyone in sight. I hear you’re hotter than a Somali Tamale. Am I hearing the truth, or is somebody trying to slander your virginal name all the way up here in Berkeley?”I didn’t know what to say. “Well. I’m not a virgin anymore…””So I heard…””…And iI really like sex a lot, Ida. I didn’t come here to have sex, but…”Ida reached across that big gear shift and touched my knee.”It’s okay, Syl, I’m just happy to see you. It’s been too long, is all I want to tell you.” “Yeah, that’s okay, Ida, I have a lot on my mind right now, a lot of it is, in fact about sex…”Silence in the Crosley Coop de Ville for the next twenty blocks of San Pablo Avenue.I don’t know what was wrong with me if anything was, but, as I said, I had so much sex on my mind coming here that I had to wack off on the damn train. I had put that stuff out of my mind in the Emeryville station, or I tried to, if only for the sake of a few practical considerations. I had been so fucking dreamy, and then so pissed off at myself, tired and hungry. I hadn’t given dear Ida much thought. Now we were riding through Oakland and Berkeley, and Ida was starting the whole thing up again. with different characters, in a different setting. Or was she?I didn’t know how much Ida actually knew about me and my mother, but, already, I understood that Ida knew a lot. Did she do a lot, too? I tried to slam a door closed in my mind marked “sex with your aunt Ida”, but the older I got, the harder it was for me to slam those doors, like most people do, and keep them closed. One of the things I had already learned about myself was that I wasn’t wired that way. Oh dear.`Ida lived in a white frame house built, she told me, “about 1890′ ” There were plenty of fancier houses in Oakland and Berkeley., but her house had a lot of character. It had a cupola on one corner. Ida’s house was a “Craftsman “house. People 100 years ago could order one from the Sears, Roebuck catalog. The pieces were milled and shaped in Chicago and shipped by rail to the correct city, then moved from the boxcars to the building site on a horse-drawn wagon. I loved the high ceilings and huge windows, cupola, giant kitchen and bedrooms. Ida said “This house went through the earthquake in 1906 and who knows how many smaller ones, so nothing in it is square anymore. I have to be really careful and exact about my angles for my cabinets, and that’s okay, it keeps me centered, but I like a living space where none of the angles make sense anymore… Can I get you some tea?”All of Ida’s cabinets and tools were outside in the building that had originally been a horse stable. The inside of her house was a true painter’s house, with canvases, drawings and sketches everywhere.. She had a big round oak table with claw feet that would have taken all the space in my mom’s place, but at Ida’s the kitchen just went on and on. Ida had a sofa in there, bookcases, notes and loose pictures pinned and tacked to every vertical surface.”Sylvia, stop running your mouth and listen for a little bit…”She had doves that were trying to build themselves a nest in the eaves of her house, right above the crooked kitchen windows.”What çekmeköy escort is that note they are cooing, Syl?”I listened for a few minutes.”I think those birds like A flat over middle ‘C’, a lot, Ida.””Yeah, that’s what I hear too, Syl. Keep listening.”The late afternoon sun was illuminating the baskets of garlic and onions that were hanging in the window.”There’s that train whistle sound…'”Yeah, I love that it’s just right. Not so close that you think the train is comin’ through the front door, but close enough, right? What is that note? “”Oh, that’s an “F below middle “C”.”Keep listening.”Ida went to her piano, also in the kitchen and hit “C” sharp.”A major triad! Isn’t that it?”I fell in love with Ida at that moment. She was the beatnik aunt of my dreams. ( Hippies weren’t around yet). It was 1965. “Cool “was still a word I used to describe certain people. Ida was so cool.”So, Syl, tell me about sex with your mom, I’m dying to hear that story…”Sylvia, here is a piece of truth about our family…well the women in our family. I have a really big libido. I want sex all the time, lots of ways, men and women. I’ve been like that since I was a little girl. Deborah is like that, too. My mom, Ruth Howard, was more that way than I am if that is possible (laughing). My sister, Ruby, the one who got killed, was more like that than me. Now it turns out you have it, too, and probably Rachel, as well. We have libidos like men. When I’m not having sex, Sylvia, I’m fuckin’ thinkin’ about it….” “I’m just like that too, Ida. I think I’m kind of deranged that way… Can you talk about Ruby?””Yeah, well she was a wild one, and k**s in those days thought to ride boxcars was the coolest thing to do. She was thirteen. She was running to get in a boxcar way out in the middle of Nevada, on the Western Pacific, near Elko, and she slipped on something and the train cut her legs off, just like surgeon would, but she died out there in the cold, and nobody even found her till Spring, ’cause cougars and coyotes made a meal out of her. But not right now, baby, I tend to tear up, and I don’t want to put any more dents in my car. But we are going to talk, okay?””Yeah, you’ve got that thing, too, Sylvia. I promised Deborah I wouldn’t have sex with you. I promised her, Sylvia, but you look pretty tasty to me. Tell me that your pussy hair is as red as it is on your head and that you leave it nice and bushy. I’m a pushover for women like that.”I had been with Ida for about fifteen minutes, and already she was talking about how my puss looked.”Yep, Ida, you’ve got the picture!”” I like to fuck in empty houses. When I’m measuring and hanging cabinets, it’s usually before the new owners have moved in, and there is this big empty house that I have all to myself…or if I have a lover who is helping me I put the cabinets in. Sometimes I get horny in the space with all the echoes and the “new” smell. We christen the house by making a noisy fuck in it before the owners take over. I love that shit, Sylvia.” “Sometimes, I pop some LSD and fuck, but that’s after we get all the precision work done and all the power tools are back in their cases. Did you ever do that?”I was at a loss, temporary, but still, for me, a loss for words was when I couldn’t fire an answer back without stepping on the last few syllables to come out of the first person’s mouth.”No, Ida, I haven’t done that exactly. I haven’t tried LSD. I’m kind of afraid about it. What if it makes me crazy like they say?””Well, for me, it makes me kind of crazy for a little while, but I can still function. When I get going on that stuff, I just want sex and then more of it. For some people, even a little touch or a kiss is way too intense on acid, but, for me, the more intense the merrier, so, if the circumstances are right, I like freaky fucking…””Do you do more than one guy?””If I can, honey if I can. I’m not s*******n, honey, I’m forty-two, and I’m not pretty and I never was. When I get my chance, I take it. I’m not going to have sex with you, Sylvia, I promised, but I know a lot of cute boys and girls…””You asked me about my mom?””Yeah, Deborah called me and she was very upset. She said she didn’t know how it happened, but got into a big sex thing with you and Rachel….and her boyfriend? and your girlfriend? Holy shit, Syl…””Yeah, it was nuts. I was having sex with this boy from school. we were really getting it on. He was a young guy, you know, those guys have a lot of sperm in there. He had put two loads on me and in me and we were still going!””Like a dope, I forgot to close the door, and mom walked by and saw us, ME, her little honor roll student, with this boy’s jizz running off my chin…so then she got all turned on, and I was turned on from fucking and no come…so we got into it. we totally fucked, Ida, totally. Then her drummer and boyfriend, Cecil, got in on it, and my girlfriend Judy came over and got in the fucking pile and even thirteen-year-old Rachel was there, but she didn’t fuck. ..it was crazy, ida, and I think my mom is still upset with me about it. I’ve felt like a whore ever since, and I figure, since I feel like a whore all the time, instead of always giving it away. maybe I would try to make some money at it. I love to perform, as you know, so for me do..””Oy. a pimp she has already.” Ida laughed.”Well, honey, that sounds pretty crazy, all right, but I’m not the aunt who is going to tell you anything about how to run your life. You’ve got five aunts on your father’s side who can do that.””Are you planning to have sex while you’re here?””I’m thinking about it…””Don’t look at me when you say that. To be honest, my panties are getting a little damp right now with you around. I’m gonna keep my promise, though…Sylvia, I’ll bet you are the best puss eater in California…””Yeah, I like that, I like to do that. I think there is only one way to settle a bet like that…’:”Sylvia, I’m a busy woman. I’ve got five or six cabinet jobs lined up, I’m behind on that, and I need the money. This gallery guy in San Francisco wants me to bring more paintings over to his place on Divisadero. The ones you haven’t seen are really big, like twelve or fifteen feet across, so I have to get the right vehicle to take them over there. I’m going to get back to work and let you be for a while. You can have a room and bed for yourself, but that room is full of canvases and paintings, easels and brushes. You could sleep in my big bed, hon, there is lots and lots of room…I have a friend who is coming to join us for dinner later on. Her name is Dulce (Dool-say) She is Thai. Have you ever made love with a Thai woman?””No, I….””If she is in the mood, you are in for a treat, Sylvia. Thai women don’t grow up with the Christian, Jewish or Muslim crap about women and their bodies, women and men, women and sex, for the most part. That girl gives this old lady the screamin’ shivers if you know what I mean, and honey, I fucking know you do. So we are going to make a nice dinner for her. Would you mind getting on my bicycle and riding a few blocks down San Pablo to the Tokyo Fish Market?. The lady there is really sweet. She has the rock cod we need for dinner on ice. It’s paid for, you just have to pick it up and come home, okay?””Sylvia, it’s going to be good. I’m with ya, dear, don’t worry about anything…””You’re not going to dose me with LSD?””No, baby, I don’t do stuff like that. Do you want me to?”Ida kissed me a big wet sexy with lots of tongue mouth kiss.I wasn’t too crazy for fish, but I sure liked what she said about Dulce and the way Ida kissed me.On the way out the door, Ida turned and said “Movies! We are going to have a delicious meal, some wine, some nice pot, no LSD tonight, i’ve got too much shit for tomorrow…I’ve got to have my brains tucked in. I can’t promise anything from Dulce, I have no idea how she might feel about being intimate with another person, but she always has a big fuckin’ itch to scratch, just like …just like you. If she touched you, or kissed you or crawled into our bed, would you be okay?”””Well, we’ve never met.””Okay, let’s leave it at that place for now. She is very sweet and sexy…I think you will like her.” “Ida, there is some sex stuff I need to talk to you about.””Don’t worry, I know. A lot will happen after we eat have some wine and get high, okay? I’m your loving auntie, hon, I’m not going to steer you wrong.”Ida’s bicycle looked like it was new in about 1940. Really heavy, no gears, with a giant basket that looked as if it had been welded to the front wheel and the handlebars.”I live in West Berkeley. It’s all flat here, I couldn’t use her if I lived in the Berkeley hills, but she is perfect for my maltepe escort neighborhood. I can get most of what I need for living within a few blocks, anyway, and most of it will fit in the basket, too. I ride her on the sidewalk, mostly, though I’m supposed to ride her in the street, buses and bikes don’t go so well together on San Pablo Avenue, Go see Mrs. Hajimoto. She’s got everything we need for dinner down there, and it’s already paid for.”When I found the little place, Mrs. Hajimoto was very friendly. she had everything in a double strength brown paper bag ready for me.”There is the rock cod, soba noodles, sesame oil, and fresh garlic. Your auntie just called. She wants you to stop at the little market that you must have passed on the way and get some turnip or mustard greens”I had never heard of any of this kind of food.Mrs. Hajimoto put the bag into my basket and smiled at me. “Your aunt, she is wonderful lady. Everything for her here always free. Do you want to know why?”She walked me behind the counter into an enormous kitchen.”All this, this beautiful kitchen, Ida make…excuse me..made for me. She never take any money..all she wants is fish, rice, and soba! And she comes to see me sometimes. She even give to me this painting”, showing a large canvas of a swimming rock cod that hung in the front of the shop. “So I’m happy to trade her the fish..and for her. always, always the best I have!””Come back soon, Sylvia, and enjoy your meal…”When I got to Robinson’s Market for the greens, it was the same story, Ida had built the check-out counter for them and a beautiful rosewood glass front cold box for their meat, with lights inside, so that everything looked delicious, In exchange, she got her meat and fresh vegetables for nothing. The Robinson’s had okra in their store, and ham hocks, chitlins, all kinds of strange food that I had never seen before. Mrs. Robinson gave me a big slice of sweet potato pie to try. Maybe somebody slipped Beethoven some pie like this before he wrote “Ode to Joy”. She put another whole pie in with the greens.I was riding the bike down the wide sidewalk with all the food in the basket, trying not to spill. I loved how it felt to be there. I hadn’t had a thought about opera for a whole day. I didn’t know about all this stuff for dinner, but I was pretty sure some sex thing was going to happen tonight. and as I eased my front wheel over the sidewalk cracks, I thought about what sexy mischief three women could stir up. Little did I know…”Dulce does the finishes for me, first here and then the final finish work and polishing after we get them to the site. .I’ve got this big job for a guy who is the mayor of one of those towns south of Oakland, San Leandro or Hayward or someplace like that. Get this: This guy is having this really expensive fancy house built, with oak and cedar interiors, right at the base of the Oakland hills. There is literally an earthquake fault that goes under his house. When we take a little break from working, I grab a little bit of my sweetie’s bum and we take a gander out the window. The whole hillside is covered with that stuff they call “kerosene bush”, because that is what it burns like if it ever catches fire, as it frequently does when it gets so dry here for a few months. In the winter, those slopes turn to mud, and sometimes a mudslide will take houses and everything in them. including people. So that’s where this rich guy is building his fucking fancy half-million-dollar house!. I’m getting paid a lot to make it look really pretty inside. It makes me think about that Buddhist thing about everything being temporary, “”Sometimes Dulce and I get a little randy over there. I mean what the hell, Sylvia, it’s all temporary for us too! It’s just that working over there puts it all in a kind of perspective, right?””Honey, I’m such an ass. This is my friend, partner, and lover, Dulce, this is my niece, Sylvia Greenburg. I have known her since she was a little girl, but that’s not what she is now.””Honey, Dulce and I are going to shower and start on the dinner. Just get the stuff out of the bags and put it on the table.””Mrs. Robinson really likes you. I saw what you did in her store. She sent you a present.””Great. I love Darlene, too. When I moved here, I didn’t know anybody, so I used my skills to make friends with lots of folks in my neighborhood. I like to feel as if I live someplace, and fifteen years after I got this house, I really do. I love it here.”Do you own the house?””Damn skippy I do, all of it. all paid for, too.”Wow, how did you do that?””Hun, I’m going to get in the shower and clean Dulce’s little Thai tush. You can join us if you like..”For one of the few times in my life, I declined such an open invitation. “I’ll get the dinner stuff out and set the table. I don’t know how to cook any of this stuff.” “If we don’t get there right away, we might be rolling around in my bed. I’m so fucking horny today..”Dulce smiled and kissed Ida’s face. “I get the rocks off of her.” She laughed.Ida said “Sylvia, you don’t have to stay outside the door. I know we are going to have sex sooner or later, despite what I told your mom. I can totally feel it, can’t you? If you hear us with those lovemaking noises, my door is open for you. Do I need to be more clear?”I was in the kitchen, just moving stuff around. I wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Of course, I was listening for sex sounds, even though I was trying to pretend that I wasn’t. I hadn’t had any sex, except for my hand, for about two weeks, and in those days, when I was s*******n, that was a long dry spell for me. But I had already had sex with my sister and my mom. Was I going to turn around now and do it with my aunt? So far, in my short life, I had demonstrated that I was not so good at declining or even deferring sexual situations. I had come to Berkeley to TALK to Ida about sex, not to do it with her. It was clear she had other things on her mind. I liked Dulce. She was a small Asian woman, long black hair, stocky body, “A” cup boobs, and a tiny little ass. . She kissed me ‘hello’ when we met, and that kiss hit me right on the chakra between my legs.Oooh, I began to hear them. Two women making love can just be the sweetest sound. I listened for a little. Their love sounds, the train whistle sounds, and those pigeons in the eaves. Ida moaned, “Come on baby, eat my pussy…come on…”Before I had another thought, my hand was in my panties. “Sylvia! don’t stay out there playing with yourself! We have plenty of room!”I pushed the door open. Dulce was between Ida’s legs, with her face in her pussy. I liked that, but what really got me was her little naked brown behind bouncing around. She was masturbating while eating Ida. I liked that because that is just what I do when I”m on the giving side. If the rest of the situation is right, I love to see people masturbate, just love it, so there was a nice little eye treat for me.”Well, I’m in it now”, I thought, and I began to get out of my clothes.Dulce stopped picked up her face from where it was and looked at me, not a slight glance, she really looked at me. That was a change from a lot of lovers I had been with recently, that is, before two months ago. “You have such pretty breasts. May I kiss them?”She was so direct it stopped me for a moment.”I love to see you touching yourself, Dulce, It really turns me on to see. You may kiss me there, but please, kiss my mouth first. I’m just that kinda gal!”I was sure I sounded like a total idiot to these sophisticated artist women.Ida said: “Get across my face, hon, get across my face. Dulce can do your boobs while I get this other girl part right fucking here.”So in a matter of a few minutes, I was having my puss eaten. “About fucking time” said every hormone in my body. Both of these women were experienced lovers, for each other, and for other people and, this evening, for me. From the moment that both of them touched me, I knew it was going to be sweet.I didn’t think this little bit of lovemaking would be about me. Ida licked and sucked and licked and rubbed my clit with her chin till she felt me come, not super hard..”We are not going to be here all night. I have to get up in a few minutes and make that dinner..””Did you come, Ida? I could…””No that’s okay, baby, we’ve got plenty of time. Your pussy tastes so sweet I don’t want to wipe my face.”: she said, licking her fingers.” Dulce told me she thinks you are really beautiful. She wants to taste you. Sylvia, let me tell you this. Thai women are the best. The best lovers in the world. Let her take you to another planet. Can I leave you here with you? Dulce, would you like that? “”Would I like to stay here for a while and maybe make love with this beautiful girl. Ida, have you gone to crazy? Yes, I would like that very much, dear Ida. Will you be upset if I put my mouth on another woman?””It’s up to you, baby. I’ve got her pussy juice all over my face and hair, if you like a woman that gets wet, she’s here. Would you like a face full ?”No more words needed to be said.•••••••
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