PIT#17: Morality (Rated PG 13)

Points In Time

Topanga Canyon, California

Saturday, May 17, 1986

8/18/50: Union Pier

“Hi’ya, Mitchie!” Ina said. “Dis must be d’place, eh?”

“Yeah,” swallowing nervously. “Dis am d’place.” Moving aside, “Come in.”

Mitchell’s eyes followed the movement of Ina’s ample posterior as she walked into the room as —the sway of her buttocks causing the pink, elastic band of her panties to show over the swell of her left buttock as it moved in cadence under the cut-off thigh of Ina’s Levi’s, and—excited, hell, more than excited by the movement of this thin piece of pink fabric, he swallowed again.

“Nice cottage, Mitch. How many kids they have?”

“Just one, ‘Jerry’. He’s three and asleep and never, ever gets up and the Liebmans went to dinner a movie in New Buffalo and won’t be back till after eleven!” he said quickly, as though trying to convince Ina that it was safe for them to do whatever his imagination and her morality would allow.

5/17/86: Topanga Canyon; 2:19 p.m.

“ ‘Morality’, my ass!” Evie said. “My cousin has no morality! Never had and still doesn’t”

8/18/50: Union Pier

Taken back, expecting just a little more… ‘suavity’ from a ‘man’ as experienced as Mitchell Lipensky— ‘The’ Mitchell Lipensky—Ina said nothing in response, and…

“Uh…” Suddenly inarticulate and at a complete loss for words, he could think of nothing to say, but “...Ina, you look real nice tonight, Ina.”

Which, coincidentally, was exactly the right thing to say because with a girl as insecure as Ina Dorfmann a little flattery did go a long way.

“So do you, Mitchie. But then again you always look nice.”

Blushing, “Thanks.”

Going to the console radio, he turned it on and appropriately, “I want to be loved with inspiration...” the Andrews Sisters sang “...I want to be loved, starting tonight.”

Walking to the sofa, “Ina, why don’t we…” sitting in the middle—Gina’s trick—so wherever Ina sat she’d be within easy reach “...sit down.”

“No!”

‘No’? He blinked his eyes.

“No.” Sensing his… Actually pleasantly surprised at his shyness. Surprised also at knowing that she — most ‘unusually’; more so than whatever guy she was with ‘she’ would be in charge of the situation.

Holding her hands forward, wiggling her fingers in a ‘come here’ motion, “You come here!” As Gina, Ina knew the best way to loosen a guy up was to get him onto his feet, moving body to body. “Let’s dance.”

“No...” shaking his head “...I’m not such a good dancer.”

5/17/86: Topanga Canyon; 2:26 p.m.

“Well, that’s no lie…” Marsha said “...my husband’s still the very worst dancer in the world.”

My hand above the towel holding her hand beneath the towel that now held my— somewhat inflated dick… but it felt nice anyway.

8/18/50: Union Pier

Her hands beckoning to him. “Sure you are!”

“No. ‘Believe’ me, I am not such a good dancer.”

“Baloney!” Moving to the sofa, purposely allowing her blouse to gape open, Ina bent forward and although she was wearing a bra, all but the nipples on the long, hanging, double flow of white breast flesh was visible.

Taking him by both hands, she pulled Mitchell— whose eyes, naturally, were glued to her breasts—onto his feet and into her arms. Moving her body against his, “Anyone can dance...” she said “...see, it’s easy.”

Thinking, Oh, God, it’s like Gina all over again. Only Ina smells like coconuts and doesn’t have green teeth. Feeling the soft pressure of her breasts against his chest, And she’s got tits, ‘really’ got tits!

One of those perpetually late people, Ina knew that she was late getting to the cottage and not wanting to waste more time, “See, Mitchie...” putting both arms about his waist, pressing her body hard against his “...it ain’t hard…” looking at his face, running the tip of her tongue over her lips, smiling, feeling ‘it’ against her bare thighs “...uh, dancing ain’t hard, that is.” Ina corrected.

Watching the movement of Ina’s tongue. Catching the meaning of what he ‘thought’ she really meant. Moving his hands from her ample hips to her ample buttocks, grinding his pubis onto her pubis. Putting his mouth over her mouth – kissing Ina he drew, and in response Ina drew also… with such force that it was his tongue rather then hers that was drawn outward and deeply inward as, moving his hand beneath the bottom of her loose-fitting blouse, he fumbled with the three small… How the hell do you undo this damn thing? … clasps of her bra then, too fuckin’ complicated, he forced his hand under the strap, around and upward and…

Oh, God! A soft, very ample breast filled his hand— over- flowing his hand and reversing the vacuums hold on his tongue, Ina’s tongue was drawn into his mouth.

“Mmmm!” Pulling her mouth from his. “Don’t want to waste any time do you, baby? Go close the blinds.”

Moaning, “Mmmm. No, baby...” as he felt the rougher surface of her coarse nipple between the tips of his fingers “...you feel so nice I don’t wanna move.”

“Yeah, baby, go on, an’ you can come right back.” For emphasis she squeezed the hand holding her breast. “I want’j’ya, too.”

Not sure if Ina meant that she wanted him to close the blinds, or if she wanted him as he wanted her.

Nonetheless, reluctantly moving his hand from beneath her bra from beneath her blouse and rushing to the window, he twisted the rod that turned the wooden slats downward, then…

Well aware of the very obvious prominent bulge poking from beneath his jeans, he turned back to Ina who had moved to the sofa and was now reclining against a heavily padded armrest.

Dropping next to her. Looking at Ina’s face a moment then lifting her blouse from the bottom, snagging the undersides of the 38C cups with his index fingers, pulling upward…

“My, God, Ina...” he whispered passionately, staring at her sloping breasts and large, dark brown nipples “...you’re ‘so ‘beautiful!”

Actually, though, at this point in time just about ‘any’ breasts and nipples would be….

“You’re ‘so’ beautiful.”

His words further exciting her, Ina closed her eyes in anticipation of the sweet, prickling sensation she knew would be coming at any second.

As though his gaze a caress, as he watched Ina’s large, flat, dark-brown areolae began to tighten and change shape from round to oval.

And a moment before totally abandoning himself to lust, Tits got to be one of God’s greatest miracles! Mitchell thought as, moving his head forward, holding the warm, soft weight of a surprisingly heavy breast from beneath, savoring the sweet/salt taste of Ina Dorfman’s flesh, he touched the tip of his tongue to the tightly puckered projection of a nipple that now stood stiffly upward. Then, closing his lips around it…

Moaning softly, Ina pressed his head to her breast, as…

Concurrently, as though having the same thought at the same time, each tried, ‘single-handedly’ to unbutton the impossible to unbutton—especially in this sitting position—steel buttons of the other’s Levi’s without relinquishing his hand-held mouth-hold on her breast, and her hand-hold on his head.

But being in a better position – or, more than likely, because Ina Dorfman had more experience at popping someone else’s steel buttons in ‘any’ position, Ina had one of Mitchell’s popped first, then the next and the next then fishing through the slit of his Jockey shorts, freed his straining penis, and…

It had been sixteen months since Mitchell had last been held by a female hand. So when Ina wrapped hers about him, her touch plus the thought of being held again by a ‘real’ girl in combination with what he held within his mouth, and hand…Don’t come! Do not come! Forcing him to concentrate to keep from an immediate ejaculation and the barely-contained spark traveled, instantaneously, from penis to brain—upper brain—and back to lower brain causing a singular spasmodic jerk and, ‘Whew’ he didn’t.. But having fierce need to touch her ‘there’, too, God-damned, fuckin’ buttons!

Quitting fumbling with the button and attempted to wedge his hand below the fringe of Ina’s cut-off Levi’s and her thick thigh but, tight to begin with, sitting as she was, the bulk of her thigh strained against the tightly-stretched denim causing an impenetrable barrier so, abandoning ‘the hand up her thigh’ approach,” he returned to the god-damned button!

Knowing where he wanted to go. Wanting him there just about as much as he wanted to be there, sucking her abdomen in…

Finally!

Finally, the top button, then the next two were unbuttoned and, turning his

wrist outward, gliding his palm over her soft stomach and reaching beneath the elastic band of her panties – stopping momentarily to feel the rough dampness of Ina’s pubic hair, then…

Where is it? Taking a few seconds to find the part of her labia, Mitchell probed until his finger slid into the wet, Oh, God! very wet furrow of Ina’s vagina.

Their mouths coming together once again as...

Holding his head, Mitchell’s finger and their two tongues moved concurrently, until...

“Ina?” Looking at her face. Feeling her warm breath on his.

“Yeah?” Looking at his face. Feeling his warm breath on hers.

“Uh...” daring to ask “...will you, uh, take your clothes off?”

At that moment feeling something akin to love for this boy, “Yeah...”she said without a moments hesitation “...if you take yours off, too.”

At that moment feeling something akin to love for this girl, “Yeah!” Hardly able to believe it. “You bet!”

Pulling his finger from her vagina, standing, wanting her to see him naked, and, ‘Oh, yeah’! Wanting to see Ina naked, too! You bet! Pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it onto the sofa, he unbuckled his belt and— as the steel Levi’s buttons had already been unbuttoned, lowered his pants along with his underpants and because he hadn’t removed his shoes— stood with his pants and underpants bunched about his ankles… with his by now thrumming penis jutting inches from Ina’s face.

Fighting the urge to hold ‘him’. To put ‘him ‘into her mouth, “Mitchie...” she said “...you’ve got a really nice dick, you know!”

5/17/86: Topanga Canyon; 2:36 p.m.

Giggling...“That’s true , you know!” Marsha Lipensky said, thinking, Better not ‘ever’ again smoke any ‘Maui-wowe’!

Giggling...“That’s true , you know!” Marsha Lipensky said as she tossed the towel off that had been covering her husbands crotch. “My Mitchie’s got a ‘really’ nice cock… You’ve all seen it…” motioning about “...hell…” she said in a joking tone of voice “... ‘everyone’ sees it here.”

Recalling their time in the spa. “Yeah…” the slurred words from the other side of the tight circle barely heard... “...I ‘have’ seen it…” Sandy said, thinking, Even got fucked with it… I think “...and, yeah, your husband does got a ‘really’ nice cock.”

Noting a ‘tone’ in Sandy’s slurred, softly spoken words, but not sober enough to decipher the words or tone and not knowing what to say when another woman complements you by saying she ‘likes your husband’s ‘really’ nice cock’.

“Thank you.” Marsha muttered.

Was it only a week ago?

Also recalling the time in the Spa with Sandy and still not sure whether… I sure as hell wanted too, but don’t know if I did. And now that her and Marsha know each other, it would probably be best if I didn’t.

8/18/50: Union Pier

Fighting the urge to hold him. To put him into her mouth, “Mitchie...” Ina said “...you’ve got a really nice dick, you know!”

“An’ you’ve got the most beautiful ti…” His breath catching. Watching, he stopped speaking as Ina lifted her buttocks and slowly, teasingly, began to wiggle out of her tight jagged-cut, cut-off Levi’s as Mitchell— quivering penis jutting straight forward, stared first at the tangle of Ina’s curly, dark-brown pubic hair. Then, as she slowly, teasingly, lowered her shorts even further and…

I’m going to see it!…

‘Slam’! A car door.

Both heads snapped towards the window.

‘Slam’! Another car door.

“ ‘Uh-Oh’!”

5/17/86: Topanga Canyon; 2:39 p.m.

‘Uh-Oh’!

Four within the group erupting into uncontrollable laughter…

as…

Patting her husband on the head doggy style. “Oh…” Marsha Lipensky crooned to her husband in mock pity “...you poor thing!”

His eyes turning upward, “Yeah!” Mitchell Lipensky said in mock sadness.

Next PIT #18: ‘50 Pontiac