Chpt 16 - My Grandfather's Pants

Chapter 16

 

Following our night in the garage, my body ached from head to toe.  My left eye had swollen closed and my hands were virtually unusable.  It was everything I could do to lay in bed for the next three days in an effort to heal.  All I wanted was to sleep and make the pain go away.

Unfortunately, Mom had other ideas.

"I told you... stay away from that old cow, but do you listen to me?  No, of course not.  I'm only the mother.  What would I know?" she scolded, carrying a tray to place on the bed.

"Mom, I told you, I'm sorry," I apologized... again.

"If you wanted to get beat up, all you had to do was say so... I could have told Harriet you wanted to have sex with her," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"That's not funny." I sighed painfully.

"You would have looked the same, mind you, but you would have been the better for it," she said, stirring the soup on the tray.  She was talking just to talk.  She didn't hear me at all.

"Mom, please.  Harriet?"

"Oh, trust me you could do far worst than Harriet.  If sex were an Olympic event, she would have more than one gold metal believe you me."

"Mom... Harriet?"

"Oh, you think because she's old she wouldn't be any good at it anymore... well, you would be wrong.  She would leave you broken and whimpering, while she went out to look for more.  Lots more," she said, nodding her head to reinforce her words.

"I'm not sleeping with Harriet.  I'd rather have my a*s kicked by Eddie again.

"Auww, that's not a pretty picture," Connie offered, entering my bedroom.

"Mom's trying to set me up with Harriet.  I think you should set her straight," I tried my best to smile but my swollen lips cracked and hurt like hell.

"I agree.  Harriet will have to try out, just like all the other girls.  If she fits our rotation profile, I'll consider it," Connie said, officially.

"Connie, don't encourage her," I admonished.

"Deal," Mom said, shaking Connie's hand.

"Dear God.  Get out of here," I groaned.

                        I slipped lower in the bed, as the two of them left the room, and tried to sleep.

Time became fluid, slipping away a bucketful at a time, hours passing over me in what seemed like mere seconds.

People came and went all day.  Some sat in the room while I slept.  Some came and went regardless of my conscious state.

Finally, late the night of the third day, as I made my way back to bed after a painful trip to the bathroom, the sound of someone coming into the house greeted me. 

Shaped by a lamp in the next room, casting a pale yellow light into mine, her dark, supple silhouette entered.  Coming closer, she hopped a little, bending at the waist, raising her right foot, removing her shoe.  A step or two more and the sound of the left falling to the floor followed the first.  Another step, and to my astonishment, the soft, slow, sound of a zipper and her skirt slipped to the floor in a muffled heap.

My heart pounded so hard I could not swallow and feared the need to blink, certain it was a dream and she would be gone if I did so.

She stood near the foot of the bed, undoing her hair with both hands, shaking it lightly to hang loose about her face.  Closer now, her features became more clear and she smiled.

She stood in the delicate light and began to unbutton her blouse.  Slowly, one button at a time, she undid them all, allowing it to hang open, unencumbered.

            "I have never been so afraid," she said softly as she undressed.

"Afraid?"

"Afraid, I would lose you," she said, easing herself onto the bed, crawling on hands and knees, to sit next to me.

"Gabriel, we can't... I can't..." I stammered.  I couldn't breathe... I couldn't speak... I couldn't think. 

"Are you not my Piggy Rump?  Am I not your Gabby?" she asked, placing a hand at the center of my chest,  her voice, low, husky, her accent thick with desire, pulled at the core of me.

"You know Connie and I..." I protested, trying to push away her hand.

She held mine in return, pulling it close to press it against her cheek.

"I am beautiful for you, no?" she asked.  Her voice held an edge of concern, as if I might actually say no.

"You are very beautiful.  You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever met," I answered honestly.

Her expression lightened, becoming more contented.

"It is not what you think, being beautiful.  Men ignore me, thinking I am out of reach.  Women hate me because they think I am prettier than they and that I am one of those... how do you say...?"

"B***h," I offered.

"Yes, that one," she returned cheerfully, sitting up right, pointing at me and then to her nose as if we were now playing charades.

"Gabriel, we can't," I protested.

"Do you not want me, Piggy Rump?  Do I not please you?"  she asked, leaning forward, coming closer making her blouse bulge open.

"More than I can say, but Connie and I..." I started.

"No one will know," she whispered, placing a hand across me on the bed, lightly pressing her lips to mine.  Her mouth was soft, warm, inviting.  The feeling was electric, thrilling.  Her shirt had fallen open, exposing her exquisite skin and ample charms.  My heart fluttered with excitement, accelerated by a flush of wild desire.

The smell of her need, the perfume in her hair, mixed in my nostrils becoming an intoxicating cocktail, scrambling my brain.  

"The stars knew we were to be together when they were young and the world had not yet come to be.  We could live in that moment...  in that passion...  in that hope the stars have waited all this time in expectation.  We could be happy, you and I.  No one but the stars themselves would know," she whispered, kissing me again, more urgently this time. 

"I would know," I said, holding her out at arm’s length.

Her expression shifted.  Tears began to fill her eyes.  She pulled her blouse closed with both hands, moving away from me.

"There is no room in your heart for me?" she asked softly, half to herself, half to me.

"I'm sorry, Gabby, but I love Connie," I said, offering my hand in comfort.

"You have not said these words to me before... then she is the sun at the center of your universe and I am but a moon, hidden in the shadow of her brightness," she said sadly, getting up off the bed to find her clothes.

"Gabriel," I called, throwing off the blankets to follow her.

Without another word, the house filled with the sound of her running down the stairs, followed a moment later by the thud of the front door closing.

My heart sank and I felt like crap.

There was no sleeping that night.  Every sound reset the look in her face to the forefront of my mind.  Time crept by in long, agonizing, minutes, stretching the night into an eternity of self doubt until at last, the sun rose.

I stumbled to the bathroom to take my morning shower. 

Gabriel, her face, her words, her willingness, all played themselves over and over in my head.  My brain was torn, filled with her beauty, another part filled

with the curiosity of her true feelings.  And, I must confess, the question of how anyone so young, so beautiful, so desirable, could have any interest in me, haunted me.

I let the hot water run over me, washing the tension in my muscles down the drain.  As the water poured over me, I was surprised by the sound of the bathroom door opening and then, after a moment, closing.

My imagination exploded with the images of Gabriel and the way she came to me the night before.  Her half naked body, the look in her eyes, her scent...   a hundred different scenarios and their possible consequences filled me with indecision.  I held my head under the water, trying to form the words, uncertain if I had the will to turn her away a second time.

The sound of her zipper, followed by clothing being dropped into a pile on the floor...  the curtain opening behind me made my heart jump with a forbidden excitement.  It pounded in my ears, making my skin feel almost electric.

I covered my face with my hands as I turned around, pushing the water from my eyes, my mind on fire with desire and the possibilities.

"Come on, boy.  Let's find out if you like girls or not," Harriet said, now standing naked in my shower.

"No, no, no, no," I shouted, grabbing the curtain, tearing it from the pole, wrapping it around me.

"Show me what you've got," she howled, pulling at the curtain.

"Harriet, God damn it, get out, right now, get out," I snorted.

"What's the problem?  Can't handle a real woman?  Drop that curtain and give it to me good," she said, slapping at my hands.

"Out," I growled angrily, pointing to the door, dropping the curtain before I realized it.

Slowly, Harriet stepped out, grabbing a towel.

"Gotta tell ya; kid... you look an awful lot like your dad," she offered with a smile, gathering up her clothes.  "Let me ask you... how come you didn't sleep with Gabriel?"

"I'm in love with Connie."

"Not gay... right?"

"No.  Not by any stretch of the imagination."

"If that was the case, why didn't you say so?" she said with an odd little smile, closing the door behind her.

 

 

Reviews

[John Lauterbach]

I recognize this as the Piggy Rump short. Given there's a big gap, but in the last chapter, it sounded like Jack's been doing the sex rotation thing with Connie and Gabby for a little while - and that those two are on good terms. Is this the point in the story where Jack rebels against the tradition imposed on him and decides he only wants Connie?

Funny side note; when Harriet showed up in the shower, I imagined her smoking a cigarette. That wasn't written, but it made me laugh anyways.

[Tegon Maus]

I’m glad you laughed. Harriet is one of my favorite characters... always lots of fun to write. Sadly, no, Jack never hooks up with Gabby. He wants too desperately but is to in love with Connie to act upon it. Those smoldering feelings are the stuff of the follow up book I’m still working on. Thanks for the read, this story gets very little attention because of its husband sharing theme. In India a young bride can have as many as five husbands... generally brothers to make sure the family land stays in the family and no one thinks diddly squat about it. We are so up tight.

[John Lauterbach]

People are weird about sex and strange relationships. I imagine it's like rubbernecking for a lot of people; they're fascinated with it, but will deny it until they turn blue if someone catches them looking.

[Wendy Seames Garner]

This sure reads like a man's dream - all these women wanting him.