PIT#44:In Threes 2

Points In Time

Tarzana, California

Tuesday, June 17, 1986

10:40 a.m.

I had never been wit Lita other than while with white, racially accepting, people and wondered how ‘I’ might be accepted within a group of black people, and also how ‘accepting’ I might be?

Lita’s parents college professors. Lita herself a teacher growing up in ‘old money’ Handcock Park, and now living in ‘costly’ Brentwood, I assumed did have contact with white people, but as ‘mere’ acquaintances, or as friends? I did not know. But Lita’s self-conscious entrance into this restaurant while holding the hand of a white man?

The rest of our breakfast in silence, I wondered if Lita’s thoughts mirrored mine.

11:05 a.m.

Half of Lita’s waffle left in the dish. Finished with her last cup of coffee. The last of my fried egg swabbed clean with the last of my pancake… I motioned to the waiter for our check.

Our bill coming to seventeen dollars and twenty-four cents, I left a twenty dollar bill on the table.

Having discussed our— not embarrassed. Neither Lita or myself embarrassed as we’d entered and walked to our both while holding hand, but more so, very much more so feeling ‘self conspicuous’, and at this time rising from my seat, standing alongside still seated Lita, do we just lave or do I…

Reaching to me, Lita took my hand and together, impervious to whatever looks the black woman and white man received…

Fuck them!

Woodland Hills, California

11:40 a.m.

Packing the last of the non-perishable items in a carton marked ‘kitchen/food’. The refrigerated items to be loaded in cartons to be carried by myself tomorrow to be placed in the refrigerator left by the seller as it appeared to be years newer than what I have. The old one to be taken by The Salivation Army.

“You had the electricity and gas turned on?”

“Yes, both should be on this morning, and I ordered a new telephone and should have my new number tomorrow.”

“Be sure to give me your new number.”

“You’ll be the first to get it, honey.”

With Lita’s help, four of the now remaining cartons shoved into the rear of the Ford Station Wagon. Her small overnight bag onto the seat between us.

Westlake Village, California

12:25 p.m.

Passing through Calabassas and Agoura and the Los Angeles and Ventura county lines, fifteen miles west of Woodland hills on the ‘101’.

Driving through tree lined neighbourhood streets, then pulling onto the garage driveway of 2821 Waterview Lane, the car stopped.

Wanting Lita to enter through the front door, I did not open the garage door.

Coming from the Ford, taking a few seconds to look about. “Wow, Mitchie, this is some nice neighbourhood!”

Though attached units, each long structure holding four individual units each containing a fifty foot frontage. Each individual residence constructed to ‘not’ look like its immediate neighbouring residence giving the appearance of four individual one story houses.

“It’s really pretty here, Lita, and wait till you see inside.

Unlocking the door, I stood aside.

“Mitchie, my God...” seeing the view from the Spanish foyer, through the living-room, through the glass wall looking past the redwood deck to the water of West Lake Lake “...this is ‘beautiful’!”

Thinking, Wonder if she’d like to live here with me?

“I could live here, Lita thought.

“Let me show you the rest of the place.”

Going from room to room, Lita opened the bi-fold closet doors and and built in drawers.

“ ‘I’ probably would…” she said “...but whoever lined the shelves and drawers did a really good job and unless you want to…”

“I won’t want to.”

“Thought so.”

Walking into the dining area, then the kitchen, opening draw and cabinets along with the refrigerator door.“Nice.” Lita said as she passed from the kitchen into the eight by ten den that held the door to the garage.

“Think I’ll mostly be living in here…”
“Sleeping and eating, too?”

“No, not sleeping. The television seems about right for this room and I’ve my recliner and old sofa and think I’ll probably eat off a snack table… And I’m thinking of closing off the master bedroom to save on hear and air conditioning bills, and sleep in the smaller bedroom that I do have bedroom furniture for.”

“Well…” Lita said “...might as well start unpacking.”

The station wagon still parked on the garage driveway outside, pushing the button, I opened the motor driven garage door.

Popping the rear door and reaching inside, I pulled one of the lighter cartons for Lita to carry…

“Hi, there!”

An older ‘Lincoln Continental’ had pulled onto the neighbouring driveway and, the driver side door opening, an elderly man lifting himself off the seat...”Hi, there! You our new neighbour?”

Stepping over the three foot wide grass meridian separating our two properties, holding his hand forward, “I’m Milton… ‘Milt’ Abrams, and this is…” motioning over the roof of the Lincoln “...my wife, ‘Harriet’.”

“Hi, Milt…” moving forward to shake hands and, nodding my greeting to “… ‘Harriet’!”

“I’m Mitch Lipensky and…” stepping from the garage “… this in my, uh— not really knowing what Lita and I were to each other…

“I’m Mitch Lipensky and this my,uh, girlfriend, Lita.”

Things can happen in split seconds. Sometimes it might be no more than the crinkle of an eyelid or the temporary tightening of lips…

The split second change in the ‘welcoming attitude to our new next door neighbour’ flashing from the faces’ of Milton and Harriet Abrams…

Which I did not notice, apparently more attuned to prejudicial attitude, Lita certainly did.

“Uh…” Milton said “...nice meeting you, Mitch.”

The near unnoticed turn of Harriet’s mouth downward. “Welcome to ‘our’ neighbourhood,Mitchell.”

The Abrams’ entered their home through the garage, automatically closing the garage door behind them.

2:55 p.m.

Lita volunteering for kitchen duty, washed the dust from within cabinets and drawers, washed the interior of the refrigerator and, having the carton containing the ‘silverware’ and most of the kitchen utensils, set the kitchen up as she would have it.

The other cartons unpacked and having nothing to do as Lita finished her project in the kitchen, going onto the rear deck I noticed a thick electrical cord running from an outlet on my patio wall to the boat below.

Walking down the embankment to check on the boat; easily able to hold eight people, possibly even ten, I pulled the seats back reviling two battery compartments containing three ‘go-cart’ type, twelve volt batteries, all six with extremely corroded terminals.

“Hey, Mitch!”

“Down here, Lita.”

“Finished in the kitchen, want to go back for the rest?”

“And a bed!”

“Yeah! ‘And a bed’!”

4:10 p.m.

Returning to Westlake from Woodland hills with the last three of the cartons I’d packed the night before and, by turning the mattress and inner springs onto their sides, Lita and I were able to slide both into into the the Ford’s rear compartment and still have room enough to lay the steel bed frame atop the cartons.

Every thing left in the house after today to be picked up by movers, and later— whatever was left to be taken by The Salvation Army’ tomorrow, on the eighteenth and, on the nineteenth our old cleaning lady will come by to clean the place and, after checking to see all windows and doors are locked, will leave the keys in the mailbox, which I will drop off at ‘escrow’ to be given the Brenner’s at close of Escrow.

The escrow will close and title will transfer from Mitchell and Marsha Lipensky to Karl and Sophie Brenner in twenty-four days, on July twelve.

By my reckoning, after all selling expenses — Marsha’s check going directly from escrow to her newly opened bank account in Lincolnwood, Illinois. My check, I will pick up in person.

After all expenses Marsha and I will each receive fifty-nine thousand, eight hundred, fifty-eight dollars and twenty-two cents (59,800. 22) at close of escrow.

4:55 p.m.

Opening the carton containing linings and bath towels.

“You packed these, didn’t you!”

“Never could figure out how to fold a fitted sheet.”

“I’ll say!”

All twin sheets rolled into sloppy balls, Lita properly folded and… As she would have it, laid the linen and towel shelves as ‘she’ herself would have them.

I stood to the side watching as Lita folded, straightened and placed, and by the look of concentration on her face wondered if she were thinking ‘for ‘our’ home’ or wishing it was ‘for ‘our’ home!

I know these thoughts were about as far out as … Well, ‘wishing on a star’ and I had to fight with myself to keep from taking her about the waist and saying, ‘Lita, I love you’!

After a half hour or so, “Finished, Mitchie. Now let’s see how long you can keep it this way.”

“Probably until I change my sheet, wash it and put it away again.”

“Know what, Mitch?” Taking my face into her hands, a solemn expression coming to her face. “I…” taking a deep breath— whatever Lita was going to say, thinking better of it “...I’m getting hungry,” she said.

Inches apart, my hands onto Lita’s hips, looking at this beautiful face and wanting nothing more than to hear what she was going to say, but yet afraid to hear the words because then I ‘knew’ I would also say the words that had been on my mind throughout this day… And once my — ‘our’ words said, could we ‘both’ actually ‘happily’ live throughout our lives with our ‘mixed’ results?

Taking a moment to pull my thoughts together. “Me, too …” I

said “...how’s pizza sound?”

“Great! Give a minute, though.”

Not expecting this, I waited and watched as Lita chose one of the fitted sheets she had just folded and taking two perfectly folded matching light green pillow cases, went into the small bedroom and made up the one double bed that we had carried over Then, knowing what I ‘was’ thinking. “For later…” she said “...first let’s eat.”

“Think we ought to take a shower first?” I asked hopefully.

Knowing if they got undressed and into a shower together they would never get out of bed. “You smell bad?”

Knowing if we got undressed and into a shower together we never get out of bed. Lifting my arm, sniffing my armpit. “No.”

Doing the same.. “Me either… First eat. Then shower. Then bed.”

“ ‘Then’?”

“Yes, baby…” Lita said “ then, ‘yes’ !”

“Not too familiar with restaurants around here, but there’s a ‘Shakey’s’ up the road a piece in Camarillo.”

“I love, Shakey’s. One question, though.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“You like anchovies?”

“My, God…” slightly exaggerating “...I ‘love’ anchovy pizza and

you’re the only…” this true “...person I know that does also. Knew there was a reason to love you!”

Silent a moment… Said in a ‘maybe’ joking fashion. “Yeah, Mitchie. Me, too, you, too.”

“Okay, might as well go then.”

The Ford backing out of the garage, as coincidentally once again Milton and Harriet Abrams — returning from grocery shopping, were in the the process of removing a number of brown paper bags from the rear of their old Lincoln Continental…

The Ford backing out of the garage; in a friendly gesture Milton waved to Lita, whom in a friendly gesture waved back as Harriet Abrams, in an exaggerated near comical gesture turned her face upward and away.

“Your neighbour, Milt, seems like a pretty nice guy…” Lita said “...but that wife of his…” Knowing the meaning of Harriet’s purposeful snub, Lita’s voice trailed off.

5:20 p.m.

Shakey’s — a barn of a place with different sized thick wood, distressed tables and like backless benches, seemingly scattered throughout in haphazard placement.

At this time, Shakey’s was fairly well occupied with people sitting in couples, in double or triple groups. There were both Caucasian and Negro people sitting throughout, all sitting at ‘their’ purposely segregated tables.

Entering Shakey’s, Lita Warner and Mitchell Lipensky were

the only racially mixed couple… Which none there seemed to notice — except Lita.

Apparently ‘anchovy’ pizza not a big seller at Shakey's in Camarillo. Lita and I shared a large sausage and onion pizza Lita drinking a bottle of ‘Coors’ and me a bottle of ‘Miller’s’.

6:43 p.M.

No meeting of the Abrams or anyone else as we pulled directly into the garage.

Anxious to get on with the shower and bed and especially the ‘yes’ thing, disappointed when Lita asked, “Did I see you put a bottle of ‘Johnny Walker’ in the cabinet?”

“Yes. You want some?”

“The ice maker working?”

All utilities turned on the day before and the ice maker in the freezer doing it’s job; as I worked in the kitchen I had dumped whatever ice had been made with the old water in the copper line, and had heard the dropping of new ice cubes into the freezer’s ice bin.

“The ice maker working?”

“It is.” I answered.

“I’d like to look around outside for a few minutes. So, could you pour me some with a couple ice cubs and a dash of water.”

Taking two of the heavy ‘Old Fashioned’ glasses that I’d put into one of the cabinets along with the other glasses that afternoon and, pouring Lita a healthy ‘scotch’n’rocks’, I also poured a like drink for myself.

Standing at the banister looking outward there were a goodly number of the electric powered boats scooting about — as best they could scoot about at the four miles an hour lake limit, leaving minor, though visible wakes behind.

Immediately to the right was the six foot high stucco wall that separated my property from the Abrams, but beyond the wall the entire south-western curve of Westlake Lake could be seen. To the left was the six foot high stucco wall that separated the property of my, as of then unknown neighbours, and beyond could be seen, the mile or so off , far eastern end of the lake along with the ‘Westlake Yacht Club’ — which I doubted I’d ever join, and two high end priced restaurants.

Directly across the lake — about three quarters of a mile could be seen a wide green verge with a walkway then ‘Trimupho Canyon Boulevard’, and beyond rolling green hills dotted with small tracts of homes.

“You know, Mitch, with your place here…” motioning over her shoulder “...and this…” making an all-encompassing sweeping motion before her “.....you’ve found yourself a ‘really’ beautiful place to live.”

“Yeah. Kind of like a special vacation area just forty-five miles from Los Angeles.”

The lowering sun sending golden streamers across the cloud speckled sky. Drinking our scotch ‘n’ rocks, my arm about Lita’s waist holding her closely, we looked at the beautiful vista before us…

“Mitchie…” turning to me, kissing me, tasting the scotch that had coated her mouth and tongue “...fuck me, Mitchie!”

Going inside, Lita went to the counter where she’d left the small overnight bag she’d brought with her.

Next to the linen cabinet that she’d worked so hard on and taking two bath towels and a bathmat, she went into the master bedroom… The master bathroom was huge in comparison to the other, containing a double sink, a sunken bathtub and a large, frosted glass fronted shower stall.

Dropping the bath mat onto the floor before the shower and the two bath towels onto the closest sink, I watched as Lita, dropping her Jeans and pulling the chambray shirt over her head…

“What are you waiting for?” Standing in panties and bra. “You going to get naked, or what?” Lita asked as, reaching into the shower stall and turning both knobs, adjusting the water temperature.

Stepping out of my jeans,“Uh...” I asked “...you’ve any soap?”

“Of course, silly!” Reaching into her overnight bag, she came up a plastic bottle of liquid soap and wash cloth.

Noting my dick that was still somewhat in hiding. “You don’t wear underwear?”

Pulling the chambray shirt over my head. “No.”

Reaching behind her back, Lita unhooked and let the bra fall to the floor, then leaning against the double sink vanity, pulled her panties off her hips, down her legs and off her feet.

Now this beautiful light-skinned, black-skinned women stood completely naked before me… As I stood completely naked before her with my dick absolutely no longer in hiding.

Never naked with Lita alone. Always with company while at Elysium or even within the ‘black room’ at Janice’s home.

The beauty of this fifty-two year old lady that I’d ‘hypothetically’ met when I was sixteen in ‘nineteen-fifty-one’ — that was ‘not’ Lita, but a thirteen year old black girl by the name of ‘Louise’ that, imaging what Louise looked like naked, that then sixteen year old boy had masturbated to night after night, and now…

The tits and body of this beautifully matured woman. The ageless beauty of Lita’s face — Lita naked before me, all these years later, a masturbatory dream come true .

Stepping into the shower, I followed.

Hot water streaming onto me, onto Lita. Our bodies tightly encircled by four arms with my hands clasped onto Lita’s ass, with Lita’s hands clasped onto my ass.

Feeling the soft push of soap slicked tits onto my chest’

Feeling the probe of his penis against her thigh, holding ‘him’ ,  

Mouths together. Tongues twining.

My hand rubbing the hairy mound of her pussy, probing... parting the petals, my finger, sliding into he ‘so ‘ warm, ‘so’

lubricious channel...

Straining into the probe of his finger. Slowly moving one hand fore and back along the warm, hard shaft of his penis. The nails of Lita’s other hand tightening into the soft flesh of his buttock, urging Mitchell even closer....

Breaking the kiss. Lowering my head, holding a tit from beneath and bringing it to my lips, along with streaming water I sucked Lita’s excited, now elongated tightly constricted black nipple deeply into my mouth.

Pulling from her hand, bending at my knees and crouching before her, running my mouth and tongue over Lita’s streaming flesh... To over, and into the indention of her navel.. and down. And because her pubic hair was wet and lay flat, her pussy was fully visible through the thinly wet hair and the projection of her mound was seemingly more pronounced... And I drew the soft mound fully into my mouth and bit softly, but not too softly onto the hairy flesh.

Feeling the delicious pain of the bite, biting her lower lip, Lita waited for what she knew, for what she expected, for what she ‘wanted’ to come next, as...

Parting the fleshy folds with my tongue, turning my face to the side so water would channel over my lips rather than into my mouth— touching my tongue to the upper cleft of her pussy finding it easily, I licked the budding tip of Lita’s clitoris, as...

Arching her pelvis forward, widening her thighs, holding the back of his head, pressing his mouth onto, and his tongue into her vagina, savoring the dual erotic sensations of a clitoral caress and the in and out motion of his tongue. Closing her eyes, straining her pelvis even further, opening her thighs even wider, holding Mitchell’s head, moving it in a tight circle…

Sensing the approach of orgasm, the volume of air being drawn into her lungs and rapidly exhaled increasing… Feeling the sharp sweetness begin. Twisting her fingers in his hair, forcing his mouth even harder onto, and his tongue even deeper into…

“Mmmm!”

A memory of the dark room flicking through her mind. Loving the feel of Mitchell within her body, wanting him.. Oh, yes! Thinking, wanting him there.

“Stand up, baby!”

Prompting me upward. Turning her back to me. Taking hold of my dick while standing on tip-toes and arching her body forward, Lita guided ‘me’ into her pussy... When she was sure ‘I’ was as deeply implanted as the length of my dick and the angle of her body would allow...

Oh, God! Not knowing if I’d thought or said the words.

“Oh, God!” Feeling the wonderfully warm wet tightness that clasped my duck.

Leaning forward, my chest pressed onto Lita’s back, my arms about her my hands holding both swaying tits, my dick moving within Lita’s fore and back rhythm.

“Mmmm!”

Once again... Or possibly the sweet pain had never ended and now was but one continuous orgasm.

Pushing deeper. My arms tightening about her chest. My hands tightening their hold on both hanging tits.

Moving his pelvis only. Push... retract... push... retract... push... Nearing!

Nearing... His pelvis and penis, jerking forward, jerking backward...

‘Now’!

Standing perfectly still, actually feeling the penile contractions within her vagina... Within her body.

‘I love you!’ Lita thought.

Their words but thoughts within both minds.

‘I love you!’ I thought.

Turning now...Lita’s brown breasts to Mitchell’s white chest.

Their mouths coming tightly together. Each breathing their hard, ragged breath into the mouth of the other, till...

Lips loosening. Heads moved back. Eyes opening, each looked into the half opened eyes of the other, till...

Their breathing slowed...Lita’s breasts moving from Mitchell’s chest… The two stood, without words, but yet together.

“Better get out of here…” Lita said “...before we become waterlogged.”

Standing outside the shower stall, drying themselves.

“Know what I’d Like to do. “Mitch?”

“What’s that. Lita?”

Walking to the open slider. Spreading her arms and naked thighs to this nights balmy breeze.

“It’s so beautiful out, I’d like us to spread a blanket on the floor just inside the open slider and sleep with the door open.”

The thought of spending this night within the arms of Lita, within the arms of Mitchell with the gentle breeze playing over their bodies…

“Really like the nudist life style, do you?”

“Yeah, I guess...” knowing what she must do and wanting something special to remember “...but I’d just like to sleep naked with you here.”

9:48 p.m.

With a light blanket for cover, if needed, lying on a blanket within feet of the fully open slider and the moon lit, star studded night.

Naked within feet of the open slider. The breeze warm upon the body of Lita. The breeze warm upon the body of Mitchell.

Both on their backs, sides touching. Lita’s head upon Mitchell’s shoulder. Hands held atop Lita’s thighs.

Spontaneous, gentle lovemaking through. Words spoken… Words spoken both felt they could speak without admitting too much of their mutual feelings because… Knowing ‘this’ could go no further, ‘what then’?

Lita knowing what she must do.

As a mental pain within their chests, both having a deeply felt sense of forthcoming sadness.

Shortly before sleep coming…

“Know what I’d like to do, baby?”

Turning onto my side now. My left arm across Lita’s chest.

Lita’s left arm onto my outer thigh.

“Whatever you want to do, honey, It’s okay with me.”

Her hand cupping my thoroughly flaccid dick.

“I’d like to hold ‘you’ tonight.”

“And if I get horny”

“It’ll be okay.”

My hand cupping Lita’s soft breast…

We both slept.

Next PIT #45: In Threes #3