mpmst1@unix.cis.pitt.edu (Michael P. Metlay) (11/25/90)
This work is copyright 1989 metlay, and is in the public domain for all forms of reproduction and distribution SAVE those involving sale of this material. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ PART 6: A mistake made, a mistake mended October 1982 The tiny dorm singlet wasn't as large or spacious as the old quad, but it only held one man and his belongings, so it didn't have to be much more than cozy. The bed stretched from end to end of the narrow space, with barely enough room on the walls for two of the Roger Deans, and there was only a ratty old bathmat on the floor in place of Zero's Persian rug, but the wires and cables festooning every spare inch of space and the speakers mounted on the walls were a sure sign that this was the Bandit's home, unspoiled by Zero's obsessive neatness. The lights were out and there was no sound in the room save the muffled hum of music through a pair of headphones and the dry, sandy whisper of an occasional word or disjointed phrase. The Bandit was lying on his back on the rumpled bed, staring at the ceiling as the music played on. It was "The Wall," the disheveled old tape copy he'd played half to death in 1980 while mourning the loss of his last high-school sweetheart. When he'd met Teenie, the tape had been gleefully tossed into the back of his music crate and ignored for three years. But now it was on again, and the Bandit found he remembered every word, every note. A hastily scrawled letter lay on the desk by the bed, beige parchment smeared with Mary Magdalene's careless script. He'd read it only once, but he could quote its contents verbatim. How dare you attempt to lay blame for what happened on me? How dare you insinuate that the cruelty and misery I've been dragged through were all my fault, and that you were some kind of a helpless victim? If you won't accept kinder words, Bandit, then let me give it to you in your own unique style: I do not want to be in any sort of relationship with you, ever again. I deserve better than you, and I will not be dragged down to your level, and in fact I think it better if we didn't even speak to one another again.... The Bandit's lips moved unconsciously, following the lyrics of the tape. He couldn't hear himself with the headphones on, so he couldn't have known that he was singing out loud, a hoarse, miserable croak that somehow would have fit in with the music, had anyone been listening. "Ooooh, babe, don't leave me now, How could you go? When you know how I need you, need you, need you, need you, To put through the shredder in front of my friends, Ooh BABE...." The summer was gone, a lingering pink fog that contained two or three months of his life, now gone forever, the details blurry. He'd been SO in love with her.... quit his lab job back home to stay in Arcadia and sling hash, just so they could be together, found a miserable little room to sublet in a boarding house on the edge of town and made it their love nest, barely eight feet from wall to wall but it held them, held their love all night every night, a womb, a cocoon, an oasis.... "I love you." "I love you." "I love you." "I love you." Her breasts, slick with sweat and his saliva, slipping up and down the length of his penis, her giggles as he expertly curved her diaphragm into a perfect U-shape and slid it into her cunt, tickling her clit as he did, the black, black fan of her long hair over his face as they slept, her head on his shoulder....NO! Don't think of it, put it aside! "Hey you, out there in the cold, Getting lonely, getting old, Can you feel me?" When had it gone sour? The trip she took by herself to see that concert when he couldn't get time off from work? The week he'd spent in bed with the flu, when she didn't want to get infected? All he was sure of was that when he'd returned in September, it was dead or dying. And he'd been the one to deliver the deathblow--ENOUGH! DON'T THINK ABOUT IT! "You better make your face up in your favorite disguise--" It sprang into being unbidden, he couldn't hold it back any longer, the night out in the lounge, him sitting alone, brooding and miserable, her approaching timidly, a shaky smile-- "Can I rest my head on your shoulder?" And then--why, why, WHY?-- that good old Bandit instinct: "Wait a second. Let me note down the date, here." "Sitting in a bunker, here behind my wall, Waiting for the worms to come...." It wasn't fair. All of the wonderful things he'd felt over the summer were so hazy, so hard to grasp and hold onto, but the next thirty seconds were etched into his brain like glass oozing under spilled acid... Her look of agonized shock, as if he'd driven a stake into her heart, her headlong flight out the door and into the night, and Conan--CONAN, of all people!-- "Bandit, that was unquestionably the lowest shot I've ever seen." And the rush of the freezing wind as he ran out after her-- "MaryMag, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry--" "LEAVE ME ALONE, BANDIT, NOTHING YOU CAN SAY WILL DO MORE THAN HURT ME, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" And his forlorn wail in the night behind her as she ran: "I LOVE YOUUUUUU!" And then the cold meetings, his pleas for forgiveness, all the studied cynicism coming back to haunt him...and finally the letter. That letter. And there was nothing at all left to say. The Bandit's eyes squeezed shut as a cry of utter agony echoed in his ears, bringing the thunderous music to a crashing halt and leaving behind the sad, sweet sound of a lone piano. A flood of tears began to pour down his face, tears like he hadn't cried since the day they'd put Dad into the earth and shovelled dirt on him, tears for the loss of something, of everything. And he sang along with the tape, a plaintive wail that he didn't care who heard. "STOP! I wanna go home-- Take off this uniform and leave the show. And I'm waiting in this cell because I have to know-- Have I been guilty all this time?" In this cell. This tiny room, alone. No more music, no band, losing my friends, failing school, alone, forgotten. I deserve it. I deserve it. "Oh, God help me...." The Bandit tossed the headphones away. He didn't want to hear the last song, the one that hinted that there might be some hope left in his world. He cried and cried, and at last he fell asleep. November 1982 "Knock, knock! Can I come in?" The Bandit looked up from his desk, startled, and pulled off his headphones. He smiled and reached back to switch off the tape deck, saying, "Sure, Twink. You're always welcome here." "Thanks!" She came in and shut the door behind her, her cheeks flushed with the cold wind outside, her smile bright. She came over and stood behind the Bandit's chair, bending over to hug his shoulders and kiss his cheek. "Hey," the Bandit said with a grin as he reached back behind him to awkwardly return the hug, "What was that for?" "Oh, I just felt like it," Twink replied breezily. She did a neat little pirouette and fell laughing onto his bed, leaning back on the woolen covers and smiling at him with a look that told him volumes. The autumn sun shone in her honey-blonde hair, and the Bandit felt that familiar catch in his breath whenever she was near him. He put down his pen, and said, "Okay, okay, it's obvious I'm not going to get any more grading done until you tell me what's on your mind. Did you meet someone special over fall break, or something?" She nodded eagerly, her lower lip caught pensively between her teeth. "He's called the Paladin," she said with a dreamy smile. "We met at a Dark Age Society Revel back home...." "A WHAT?" The Bandit slapped his forehead. "Oh, Twink, you DIDN'T!" "Didn't what?" She frowned at him in sudden worry. "What's wrong?" "Oh, nothing," he replied disgustedly, grimacing. "Just bad memories, that's all. The DAS and I have kind of a feud going on in my home town, and I do my best to stay away from them. But," he added more solicitously, "Some of them are very nice people, I must admit...." "He's WONDERFUL!" Her voice was practically quivering. "He was so romantic, and so sweet and gentle....We're going to be married!" The Bandit's jaw dropped. "Married?" "YES! He proposed, and I said I'd have to think it over, and he said I could take as long as I wanted because he'd wait forever for me! Oh, Bandit, I'm so HAPPY!" The Bandit shook his head with a smile. "Well, if you're happy, I'm happy, sweetheart. I just hope he takes good care of you, that's all." "Oh, he did, all right." Her smile was playfully wicked now. That sat the Bandit back in his chair more than the marriage proposal. He asked in a faint whisper, "You mean he...You and he...?" "Uh-huh!" There were almost tears in her eyes. "I'm so glad I waited for just the right time, Bandit! It was beautiful, and it didn't hurt at all! I didn't even bleed, or anything! He was just, just GRAND!" "Wow." The Bandit scratched his head in a daze. "I, uh, don't know what to say, I, um...wow." "Oh, c'mon, Bandit! I've never seen you at a loss for words before!" Twink leaned forward and gently stroked the Bandit's cheek. "Are you jealous?" "Well, uh...." He looked into space for a moment, a thoughtful frown on his face, then gave a short, sharp nod. "Yes, dammit! I am, I guess. I know I don't have a right to be, but you're just so important to me, I kind of have trouble with the idea of you jumping in the sack with a guy you barely know and coming out engaged!" "Oh, no," she grinned, shaking her head. "I went IN engaged. I was very clear on that point when we first met on Monday, when he asked me for the first time to spend the night. And he said it was okay, and he didn't hassle me or anything, and we spent the whole week together and we were so happy and then he asked me to marry him and I--" She paused, out of breath, hands waving in the air. "I just feel like FLYING!" The Bandit watched her emote, his eyebrows puckered into a forbidding glower. As she finished, he carefully composed himself, his expression neutral. "Did he give you an engagement ring?" "Uh, no, not yet," Twink sighed. "He didn't have the money, and we didn't see anything we really liked at the DAS jewelry booths...." "Uh-huh." The Bandit nodded sagely. "He couldn't even find a nice ring with Guinevere helping, and she knows ALL the best jewelers at the Revel! So we decided we could wait for the PERFECT ring." "Who's Guinevere?" "His girlfriend," Twink said easily. "Ex-girlfriend, I mean. She was really sweet about the whole thing, she said that he and she needed a little space from one another and that she understood perfectly." She giggled. "She even promised to keep him out of trouble for me while I was gone." "I'll just bet she did." The Bandit's lips pursed grimly. "Oh, lighten up, Bandit!" Twink gave him a playful shove. "I know they're going to be together while I'm here, but it's okay...I trust him, and he trusts me! We can have friends and people with us and still be true...." "Uh-huh," the Bandit said drily. "You seem skeptical," Twink said throatily, leaning forward and giving the Bandit a good look down the front of her blouse. His eyebrows raised. Since when has she started wearing red silk underwear? "That'd be a real shame, considering the real reason I came over here...." "Oh? And what was that?" He was only half listening to her, trying to get his mind off of the impressive cleavage that was closer to him than it'd been in half a year. "To fuck your brains out," Twink sighed, grabbing the Bandit by the hair and pulling him out of his chair and onto the bed with her. "I figured that now that I'm not saving myself any more, I could at least give you a taste of what you were decent enough not to demand when we were dating...." The Bandit allowed himself approximately two seconds of guilt over forgetting the lonely torch he'd been carrying for Mary Magdalene for the past month or six, and over the prospect of boinking another man's fiancee. Then he gave the mental equivalent of a shrug, and kissed Twink as hard as he could. I am but the slave of fickle Fate, he decided philosophically. If she's set on expressing our friendship in such a, a, a UNIQUE fashion, then who'm I to argue? YIPPEE! I don't know who you are, Paladin, but thanks a HEAP! He had almost forgotten what a wonderful body Twink had. Memories from the dim past A. M. (Ante Magdalenus) came flooding back as he kicked his sneakers off and pulled off her shoes and socks, never pausing to break the incredible kiss they were sharing. His pants followed, then hers, then his underwear and his shirt, then her blouse. She broke the kiss, panting, and pushed him away for a moment. He sat back against his pillow, buck naked and hard as a rock, and she ran a hand down his chest and stomach as she arched her back and purred at him, a coy smile on her face as she flexed her muscles and proudly threw her breasts forward, straining against the clinging red fabric. "You like?" "Si, I like." "Muchas gracias, senor," she laughed, sliding a finger down into her cleavage. There was a tiny click, and the invisible front closure of the bra sprang apart, leaving her breasts jiggling gently with each heaving breath. She tossed the bra away, and slid her hands down her hips, peeling away the matching red silk panties to reveal her lush golden curls of pubic down. "Now for a snack I've really missed," she chuckled, diving her head down into his crotch. His lap vanished into a sun-kissed golden waterfall of hair, and he dimly heard, "It tastes so gooommmmmmmmmmm...." "Oh, God!" The Bandit's eyes actually crossed. "Easy, Twinkles, easy! I appreciate your, urk, enthusiasm, but you're, ooch, you're biting me!" "Oh, am I?" She sank her teeth into the base of his dong with a laugh. "YIKES! GENTLY, WOMAN!" "Hmmmm," she grinned, "Maybe I should let you put it someplace where I don't have any teeth." She crawled up onto him, kissing his lips and pumping on his penis with a tightly gripped fist. "Whoa! Whoa, time out, here!" The Bandit pushed her away gently. "What's wrong?" She stopped, puzzled. "Gotta get a condom," the Bandit explained, pulling a foil wrapper out from under a pile of papers on his desk. Thank God I had a couple left from before MaryMag (who? never heard of her. HAH!) started on the diaphragm, he thought, tearing open the package and rolling the cold latex onto his shaft with a grimace. "Oh, that looks so terribly uncomfortable, dear," Twink said with a shake of her head. "Anything I can do to help?" "Yeah," the Bandit laughed, pulling her on top of him, "Help me warm it up, it's cold!" "EEEEK! It IS cold," Twink laughed, feeling the cool, slick invader between her moist thighs. "Help me, Bandit...I'm not good at this yet...." "My pleasure," he smiled, guiding his tool between her juicy labia and feeling gently for the entrance to her cunt. His eyes widened in surprise. "Hey, you've still got your hymen! No wonder you didn't bleed!" "Really?" Twink looked down at herself in perplexity. "Why didn't it break?" "Yours is ring-shaped, sweetheart," he explained, rubbing the tip of his penis gently over the point in question. "It may have just stretched rather than torn, that's all." "Oh. Well, let's see what you can do with it!" And with that, Twink swiftly and surely lowered her full weight down onto the Bandit's hips. For a long minute, she just sat there, her body swaying back and forth and her head thrown back as she gasped and panted at the feel of it. The Bandit was in heaven, feeling the moist heat and clasping strength of her untried young pussy even through the triply-accursed condom. Slowly he began to buck his hips up and down on the mattress, pumping in and out of her hole. Twink matched his rhythm, stroke for stroke, levering her whole body up onto her knees and slamming herself down on his rod with all of her might. He reached up and grabbed her breasts, squeezing them and rolling her huge nipples in his fingers as she bucked and tossed on him, grunting and moaning. Twink grabbed his hands and held them tightly to her breasts as she screamed, "Oh! OH, GOD! I'M CUH, UH, UH, UH, AHHHHHH!" The feel of her cunt contracting spasmodically about his penis was too much for the Bandit to bear, and he grunted and heaved upward against her, semen spurting from him in torrents. She collapsed atop him, sobbing, as he relaxed back against the pillow with a groan. "Oh, Bandit, I love you! I'll love you forever, you're my best friend in the whole world, I missed you so, I'll make you so happy...." "Shhhhh, sweetheart, it's okay, I love you. I never stopped loving you. What you've given me is so special, I, I just wnat to hold you. Shhhh, please don't cry...." "C-can't help it, you kn-know that...it feels s-so GOOD...." She hugged him fiercely and wept into his hair, her body shaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm and her cunt spasmodically squeezing his shrinking rod. "I felt you, I actually FELT you come in me! Even through the rubber, I felt it, it was like molten FIRE, oh GOD, I LOVE you!" "Shhhh...Shhhhhh...." Outside, the setting sun slowly turned the air in the room to gold. It was night, the sky dark and the room almost as dark. The prison cell's become a love nest again, the Bandit thought with a weary happiness. What did I do to deserve someone like Twink? Thank you, God. I let her go once; I won't make the same mistake again, I promise. "Mmmmm...Bandit, are you awake?" He smiled at her languid, sleepy whisper in the dark. "Yes," he said. "I'm glad to have you back, Twinkles." "For a while, anyway," Twink said with a practical tone he'd never heard her use before. "I still have the Paladin to go back to, and you'll leave Arcadia in May and never come back. But for now, we have each other. And that's okay, isn't it?" He hugged her hard, feeling the agony of loss mixed with the weary knowledge that she was right. It was that tiny, cold voice again, the one that saw the future; he knew his promise was utterly empty. But I'll make her happy anyway, he vowed. Even if she can't be mine, at least she can be happy for a while.... "Yes," he said. "Yes, it is. More than okay." "Hey!" Her questing, sleepy hand had found his limp, dry penis. "Where'd the rubber go?" "I took it off after you fell asleep and I pulled out of you, dear. It's dangerous to leave it in if you get soft; it can slip off." "Oh." She giggled. "Things were sure a lot easier the first time!" His entire body stiffened. Concerned, she looked up at him, and could just make out the furious glare on his face. "What's wrong?" "Twink," he said carefully, "What did you do for birth control?" "Oh, don't worry," Twink replied brightly. "Is that all? You had me worried for a second there, looking all sour like that! No, he took care of everything!" "Be more specific," the Bandit said darkly. "Well, I couldn't get pregnant if he pulled out in time, right?" The Bandit's left hand, of its own accord, leaped off of his knee and slapped his forehead so hard it left a red mark. "Aw, TWINK! JESUS CHRIST!" "What's the matter?" Her smile was gone now. "Withdrawal isn't any good as a form of birth control!" His next phrase, 'Anyone with any sense knows that' or something similar, got pulled and dumped before reaching his mouth. Twink doesn't HAVE any sense, idiot, he reminded himself angrily. Or any education, or any experience. More calmly, he explained, "A man secretes more than enough sperm cells to impregnate a woman just by penetration. He doesn't have to have an orgasm-- Hell, he doesn't have to be IN you to knock you up! Don't you remember how I'd never come anywhere near your pubes when we were going together? Only in your mouth or your hand or on your tummy? Twink, I did it for a reason!" Twink was looking shamefacedly down at the pillow. He gently lifted her chin up so that she was looking him in the eye, and whispered, "Don't be upset, you couldn't have known. And if HE'S from Bumfuck, North Dakota, like you were, maybe he didn't know any better, either. When's your period due?" She bit her lip. "Not for a long time, now. I stopped bleeding right before the Revel began." "Good!" The Bandit sighed in relief. "You wouldn't have ovulated yet, with any luck, so maybe you got away with it this once. But PROMISE me something, Twink! Never, never make love with him again if you don't have some kind of real birth control handy! If he's not repsonsible enough to wear a condom, then YOU have to be protected, with the Pill or a diaphragm or SOMETHING!" He shook his head. "And you should probably make that snake in the grass wear a condom, anyway, just so you don't catch anything." "Bandit!" Twink looked outraged, or at least as outraged as she ever could manage. "Don't you talk about him like that!" "He nearly got you pregnant, Twink! What the hell would YOU call him!" And I love you too much to tell you that I heartily doubt he's really planning on marrying you just yet, kid, he added angrily to himself. One shock at a time. "Look," he said gently, "I'll meet him someday, and I'll get to know him before I judge him. But you have to admit he hasn't made a very good impression to start out with." "I suppose not," she said unwillingly. Then, softly: "Bandit?" "Uh-huh?" "Will you come to our wedding?" He hugged her as hard as he could. "Of course, kid. Of course." -- Mail rec.arts.erotica submissions to erotica@telly.on.ca. Most software will automatically mail your postings to that address.