PIT # 27: The Dark Place
Points In Time
Sherman Oaks, California
May 25,1986
10:45 p.m.
Hearing the soft moan and the rustle of clothing. “Evie…” making a ‘come closer’ motion “...it’s okay!”
Taking the motion as a sign to join them… which it was, Evie was immediately alongside of Janice as, putting her right arm about Evie’s waist, Janice drew her closer.
Close enough that Evie could see Morgan’s penis, within it’s field of blond impeded to his groin within Janice’s field of black.
Never knowing she could. Never doing it before, a sudden squirt of clear fluid ejected from within the vagina of Evie Dorfman as, at the same time, moving her head forward, Janice Kim drew Evie’s left nipple deeply into her mouth.
A sensual excitement more emotional than sexual.
This beautiful young woman wanted her. Wanted to love her.
The thought of making love to another woman— of having the naked body of another woman onto hers, of having lesbian sex with another woman of course had played upon Evie’s mind more than a few times… But ‘never’ with a woman such as Janice kim.
Now envisioning her head held tightly between those slender, light, ivory thighs.
“Oh, God!” Muttered aloud, “Oh, God!”.
Left hand holding Janice’s head tight to her chest, tight onto her breast, Evie’s right hand reaching to below the left cup of Janice’s bra…
Evie’s hand flat upon Janice’s scared chest.
“ ‘Where’s your tit’?”
Maharajah induced bewildered innocently asked, “ ‘Where’s your tit?”
Morgan stopped all movement.
As Morgan and Janice sat face to face, her long, slender legs to either side of his thighs, she tightly upon his lap, her vagina slickly grasping his thick penis.
“ ‘Where’s your tit’?”
Remembering.
Morgan had smoked and ingested marijuana for years— knowing what ‘going that one step further’ would lead to... Never going 'that one step further' into strongeri drugs, on this night… Janice’s strong marijuana possibly more than ‘just’ marinara?
On this day meeting…
As Marsha had approached with Janice, Morgan immediately noticed an eerie resemblance between this thirty-two year old Euro/Asian/American woman and his lost wife, Mae who’s memory throughout these past eleven years had ‘never’ been far from the mind of Morgan Joseph.
Remembering, unwittingly Morgan’s penis slipped from within the vagina of Janice where it retracted into the blonde field.
“ ‘Where’s your tit’?”
Her head jerking back, Janice released Evie’s nipple.
Dropping…
Morgan and Janice and Evie falling from within the ‘high’ euphoric bubble of two heavy hits of Sensimilla… or something else.
“ ‘Where’s your tit’?”
Janice’s strong show of bravery… Janice’s strong show of ‘hutzpah’ — as it truly was a ‘show’ of bravery, a ‘feigned ‘’ show of ‘hutzpah’ the side of Janice’s face flat upon Evie’s chest. “They took it…” Janice cried. “...they cut it off… they took my tit… Oh, ‘God’!”
Coming out of her maharajah produced haze…
Plummeting from their maharajah produced, euphoric haze. The drug produced giddy happiness dropping to the far side of the spectrum.
To a drug produced ‘dark place’.
Realising. Becoming aware that this beautiful thirty-two year old woman who’s face was pressed tightly to her chest, would spend the rest of her life with but one breast.
“Hush, Janice…” euphoria becoming an unbearable sadness, holding the sobbing woman to her chest, stroking the back of her head “...hush, Janice.”
Evie Dorfman cried.
“ ‘Where’s you'r tit’?”
**** We don’t want any Vietnamese in Cambodia,” President Nixon told a US emissary. “We will be very glad if you solve our problem. We are not opposed to hot pursuit in uninhabited areas. … I want you to force the Viet Cong to leave Cambodia. In unpopulated areas, where there are not Cambodians—in such precise cases, I would shut my eyes.”
****
April 4. 1973
Somewhere on either side of a Cambodia, Vietnam border… If they indeed were somewhere near ‘any’ Cambodia. Vietnam border, CIA operative ‘Norman, ‘Ski’, Tarnowski’ along with a three person contingent, including a female interpreter were startled when the new computerised radio transmitter crackled to life… “Baker-baker-two!” No formal acknowledgement. “Company of ‘charlies’ one click to the south. Plane’s on it’s way to make a drop. Get the fuck out… ‘Now’!”
Wherever they were, secretly— if in Cambodia they weren't supposed to be in Cambodia.
“Company of ‘charlies’ one click to the south. Plane’s on it’s way to make a drop. Get the fuck out… ‘Now’!”
'Wainwright’ the female interpreter flicked the switch that would destroy the computer attached transmitter — with it’s transcribed information, giving the three person CIA contingent ten seconds to completely vacate, but the charge, improperly installed exploded within two seconds sending a shard of steel from the metal cabinet into Wainwright’s chest shredding her lungs and heart.
Grabbing Wainwright’s body and tossing it over his right shoulder, Tarnowski ran.. but not so fast that an errant flash of napalm jell caught him burning through the camouflage field jacket, shirt and the flesh from his left side and chest as running and stumbling , Wainwrights limp body bouncing upon his shoulder with each step, somehow making the three hundred yard run to the U.S. Army ‘chopper’ that had set down three minutes earlier…
Tossing Wainwright’s body through the hatch, falling in to the hatch, Tarnowski passed out.
“ ‘Where’s your tit’?”?
‘Mae’? Morgan Joseph thought — remembering the day: ‘April 30, 1975 ‘ and the fall of Saigon, South Vietnam that signaled the end of the Vietnam war…
...That in the utterly unbelievable mass confusion during the
helicopter evacuation of the city of Saigon, the loss of ‘Mae’…
...The loss of his Vietnamese wife that then thirty-six year old CIA operative ‘Norman ‘Ski’ Tarnowski ’ was never again able to locate or make contact with.
Still completely under the influence of Janice’s Sensimilla. Morgan’s mind and memory seeing the mounds of bodies shovelled into mass graves by the scoop-shovel tractors…Seeing the body of his wife...Seeing the body of his beautiful young wife, Mae twisted as a rag doll dumped into and upon the bodies of hundred of others.
“ ‘Where’s your tit’?”
In light of his Cambodia and Vietnam remembrances, the mere loss of one breast a minuscule occurrence.
Bodily lifting Janice from his lap — leaving her crying within Evie’s arms, now ‘Morgan Joseph’ walked to the sparkling green pool, down the three ‘non-slip’ steps and, without a word, coming between, literally ‘separating’ Marsha from Ken — putting both arms about Marsha Lipensky’s waist and his head upon her shoulder, ‘Norman, ‘Ski’ Trnowski’ cried.
Hearing sobbing, Actually near back to back, also feeling the sobs, Mitchell’s penis slipping from within Sandy.
Sandy within two or three strokes from orgasm… “What’s wrong?”
“Morgan’s crying.”
“Morgan’s crying?”
The big guy’s ‘crying’! Though Ken, whom moments earlier had ejaculated into Marsha Lipensky… Whom had— ‘very’ thankfully organised with the pulsing sensation of Ken’s deeply implanted penis.
Moving from Sandy’s front and his wife’s back— actually just having to turn sideways. “Morgan, why you crying?”
“I seen stuff.”
“ ‘Stuff’?” Marsha questioned.
“I remember…” sobbing, barely able to get the words out “… horrible stuff.”
In the house…
Evie’s chest and stomach wet from Janice's tears, and snot. Holding her face in both hands, moving it from her chest, “Enough with the tears, already! You’re beautiful and rich and have lots’a friends.”
Wiping her eyes and nose with the backside of her forearm, leaving a wide wet streak on her face, and her arm.
“ ‘Friends’? Don’t got friends.”
Not so beautiful with puffy eyes and a red nose.
So, she’s misusing a tit… Evie though … So, she’s still beautiful. So, she’s still got this house and a fucking Mercedes Benz, for Christ sake and money’s no matter.
“Hey…” moving Janice to arms length “...quit your bawling! And what the hell you mean, ‘you got no friends’?”
“They’re all Sy’s friends and nobody likes me ‘cause they think I’m snobby ‘cause the way I look and spend money…”
“Well Yeah… Evie though ...I can see that.
“Well, taking the six of us, I’d guess almost perfect strangers to a dinner like that at a place like that possibly could be considered to be just a ‘bit’ snobby, I suppose. And Janice, you do got friends…” jerking her arm towards the pool “...we’re all your friends and don’t give a fiddly fuck that you’ve got only one tit or how much money you like to spend… Shit, if I could I would spend like crazy, too…” giggling “...if I could.”
“About that dinner… I suppose it was kind of snobby but for the first time since..” patting the scare tissue “...I met a bunch of people I liked and that seemed...”
“No, ‘seemed’…” Evie interrupted “...we all really ‘do’ like you!”
“Well…” going on “...I was having a good time in a long time and didn’t want the day to end.”
Taking Evie Dorfman’s face in her hands, Janice Kim kissed her… Kissed her deeply and Evie returned the kiss in very much a like fashion.
Taking the inactive, “Janice…” Evie said “...I want to fuck you!”
Without hesitation. “Me, too!”
“Better see what’s going on outside, though..” Standing, not caring who saw, or what who thought, taking hold of Evie’s hand, Janice led her from the house, across the deck and into the pool.
Seeing the five huddled in a tight group.
“Three cocks and two pussies…” Janice said “...you people doing a ‘circle jerk’ or something.”
“No…” Marsha said “...Morgan’s crying and we’re trying to help him to stop.”
All noting Evie and Janice holding hands, widening their circle making room for them.
Morgan…” taking his head into her hands “...you stopped so suddenly…” nodding her head backwards, towards the house “...that I missed you.”
“Janice, honey, I had this… not exactly a ‘feeling’ but more an, uh, like a re-living memory.”
“Th grass, maybe?”
“Nah… Well, maybe, Evie. But it was like I was there, when all the really bad shit happened.”
“You wife?”
Taking a moment to answer. “Yeah…” sighing “...and after, when I wasn’t even there because I know what happened.”
“One of those things you ‘can’t talk about’?”
“No. that I can talk about, but don’t want to.”
Coming from their dark mood, the Sensimilla kicking in again.
“Feeling better now?”
Hugging Janice. Morgan’s eyes touching those about him. “Yeah…” smiling “...I am.”
“Hey, Morgan!”
“Yeah?”
“You think you've got a problem?” Without waiting for an answer. “Who’d marry a lady with only one tit?”
“Yeah, but even so…” Morgan answered “...who’d want to marry a, old guy with only one tit.”
Kissing him on the mouth… a bit of a lingering kiss. “Have to think about that.” Marsha said.
“Hey, we’re all getting waterlogged and wrinkly being in this pool so long. What say I grab a bunch of towels and we can relax…”nodding her head to a grouping of pool chairs and lounges spaced around a large, glass topped picnic table. “...for a while while I bring some ‘goodies’ …”
“Yeah…” Sandy said “...pot really gets me ‘starving’!”
Still closely alongside Mitchell, rubbing his penis and getting an instantaneous reaction telling her what she wants to know . “And I want to finish what we didn’t finish when we were…”: looking at Morgan “...so ruddy interrupted… That’s if his wife..?”
“No…” looking at Morgan “...it’s still okay with me.”
“Okay! Great! And later, for all of us, or anyone that wants, Old Doc Si was a bit kinky, don’t you know, and in our third bedroom there are two king size, side by side beds in a room that can be made ‘completely’ black.”
One more bit of information revealed about this dainty, petite unbelievably beautiful Euro/Asian/American thirty-two year old woman that has but one tit.
Next PIT #28: Aftermath
