Sylvia visits her Aunt Ida in Berkeley

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Sylvia visits her Aunt Ida in BerkeleyBefore I could actually do anything about whoring for Al, any more sex stuff with Al, Rosali or MIchael,, I got a call from my mom’s sister, my aunt Ida.”I hear you and your mom are not doing so well right now.. If you can do it, get on the damn train and come up here and see me. You know where I live, right?”That’s all she said, but three days later, I received a round trip ticket in the mail for the Santa Fe train that went right through the middle of Berkeley and stopped at the station on University Avenue, right below Sacramento.(I thought)My aunt Ida was a hippie before the term was even made up. I had a ton of questions about love, sex and business. I didn’t feel I could talk to mom about some of the things I did, was doing or was about to do .That train was so slow. It stopped everywhere on the way up the central valley. I was looking out at the fields and mountains in the distance and thinking about Big Al, Judy, Miguel, some of the sex things I had done.We finally got to the station in Emeryville in the afternoon. I wanted to go right to Berkeley, to the old” Pueblo” station on University Avenue, where I could walk to her house, but now it was closed. My aunt had a Crosely wagon, a very early and strange compact car, made for a few years in thte late 1940’s. I expected her to meet me at the station, but the train pulled away and I found myself standing on the platform, Forty minutes went by, I had lost her phone number. I walked around the old station soaking up all the sadness in each dust mote that floated by under the huge overhead frosted window. Being inside waiting for something to happen wasn’t working, and sad and alone was the last jar on my emotional shelf that I wanted to open today..I decided to just take a bus up San Pablo Avenue and get off near Gilman street and walk to her house. I didn’t have the right fare for the bus in my purse,. The bus driver wasn’t going to let me ride. I gave him a ten dollar bill and told him that was for me and the next nine people. He looked at me kind of funny, but he was okay with it. When the bus got to Gilman and San Pablo, on the other side of Berkeley, I saw her turning the corner onto San Pablo. in the middle of the street and pointed to the door I heard him say “Have a nice day” or something that people said then, but I think he was glad to get this crazy girl off his bus before something went seriously awry.I knew it was her right away. Since the last time I had seen Ida, she had painted her Crosely with The “Fool” tarot card image. It was prominently displayed over the entire hood of the car. In addition to the tarot deck, there were plenty of stars, moons, and comets , too. .Not very many people did this kind of painting in 1965.Ida’s car had so many dents and dings it looked as if somebody made it for her in arts and crafts class at day camp, but,in a way like Ida herself, the outside could fool you if you didn’t pay attention. She was short, cursed like every female in our Ashkenazim line with that fat, but not fat in the way that my friend and lover, Judy Chavez was fat. Judy weighed close to three hundred, but she had a shape for all that, breasts, butt, hips, thighs all clearly delineated. Ida’s body parts kind of flowed from one region to another. Her hair was frizzy and had a lot of iron gray and white in the coal black she was born with. For all that, Ida, she was a passionate woman ,had many lovers and plenty of men and women who hoped to be. Ida told me before that she wasn’t at all sure that she and my mom (who she called “Bebbie”) had the same father. “You know, my mom, Ruth Howard, wasn’t as fussy about that as a lot of women. Ruth Howard had a lot of lovers , too”. “Ida was a painter and a cabinet maker. She had an entire woodworking shop in her garage, and her house was full of painter’s stuff. I loved loved loved to visit her. Like her mom, she never treated me like a little k** even when I was a little k**. I don’t think she knew how..We were driving toward her house in the Crosely. She called it the” Chicken Coop de Ville”.”Honey , I hear you are fucking everyone in sight. I hear you’re hotter than a Somali Tamale. Am I hearing the truth, or is somebody trying to slander your virginal name all the way up here in Berkeley?”I didn’t know what to say. “Well. I’m not a virgin any more…””So I heard.””…And iI really like sex a lot, Ida. I didn’t come here to have sex, but…”Ida reached across that big gear shift and touched my knee.”It’s okay, Syl, I’m just happy to see you. It’s been too long, is all I want to tell you. I do”Yeah, that’s okay, Ida, I have a lot on my mind right now, a lot of it is, in fact about sex…”Silence in the Crosely Coop de Ville for the next twenty blocks of San Pablo Avenue. All the way up from Hollywood on the train, I had been thinking about sex, not in any practical sense, no, I was looking out the window, seeing Al or Judy’s fat naked bodies in every rounded hill. I closed my eyes and thought about both of their big bodies on top of me, fucking my pussy and ass, pushing me through the mattress, or trying to. I couldn’t speak for any other woman. but I really loved to be smothered by my lover’s body, and those two were the two who could really fuckin’ do it. And the fuck? or was it plural? I loved the fucks they gave me when it was like that; the sweat, the body hair, the smell, the words and fucky-fucky non words. I thought about that on the train,and my thought was intense enough that I had to retreat to the Santa Fe coach car ladies toilet to “do a little handwork”. so I could continue. The little come I got from that helped, but in my mind I still was flat on bahis firmaları my back, arms and legs wrapped around Judy.My fantasies shifted more toward Judy Chavez as I rode through Manteca and Modesto. The image, no, the whole sense of Judy, all on top of me, fucking me so good with that strap–on, going down on me, and fucking her and going down some more after the puss-eating, stayed with me until the train reached the SP station in Emeryville.Then, and only then, had I put it aside for the sake of a few practical considerations. I hadn’t given Ida much thought . Now we were riding through Oakland and Berkeley, and Ida was starting the whole thing up again. with different characters, in a different setting. Or was she?I didn’t know how much Ida actually knew about me and my mother, but, already, I understood that Ida knew a lot. Did she do a lot, too? I tried to slam a door closed in my mind marked “sex with your aunt Ida”, but the older I got, the harder it was for me to slam those doors, like most people do, and keep them closed. One of the things I had already learned about myself was that I wasn’t wired that way. Oh dear..Ida lived in a white frame house built, she told me, “about 1890′ ” There were plenty of fancier houses in Oakland and Berkeley., but her house had a lot of character. It had a cupola on one corner. Ida thought her house was a “Craftsman “house. People 100 years ago could order one from the Sears, Roebuck catalog. The pieces were milled and shaped in Chicago, and shipped by rail to the correct city, then moved from the boxcars to the building site on a horse drawn wagon. I loved the high ceilings and huge windows, cupola, giant kitchen and bedrooms. Ida said “This house went through the earthquake in 1906 and who knows how many smaller ones, so nothing in it is square anymore. I have to be really careful and exact about my angles for my cabinets, and that’s okay, it keeps me centered, but I like a living space where none of the angles make sense any more.. Can I get you some tea?”All of Ida’s cabinets and tools were outside in the building that had originally been a horse stable. The inside was a true painter’s house, with canvases, drawings and sketches everywhere.. She had a big round oak table with claw feet that would have taken all the space in my mom’s place, but at Ida’s the kitchen just went on and on. Ida had a sofa in there, book cases, notes and loose pictures pinned and tacked to every vertical surface..”Sylvia, stop running your mouth and listen for a little bit….”She had doves that were trying to build themselves a nest in the eaves of her house, right above the crooked kitchen windows.”What is that note they are cooing, Syl?”I listened for a few minutes. “I think those birds like A flat over middle ‘C’, a lot, Ida.””Yeah, that’s what I hear too, Syl. Keep listening.”Sun was illuminating the baskets of garlic and onions that were hanging in the window.”There’s the train whistle sound…'”Yeah, I love that it’s just right. Not so close that you think the train is comin’ through the front door, but close enough, right ? What is that note? “”Oh that’s an “F below middle “C”.”Keep listening.”ida went to her piano, also in the kitchen and hit “C” sharp.”A major triad! Isn’t that cool?”I loved Ida. She was so cool.”So, Syl, tell me about sex with your mom, I’m dying to hear that story….”Sylvia, here is a piece of truth about our family…well the women in our family. I have a really big libido. i want sex all the time, lots of ways, men and women. I’ve been like that since i was a little girl. Deborah is like that, too. My mom, Ruth Howard, was more that way than I am, if that is possible (laughing) Now it turns out you have it, too, and probably Rachel, as well. We have libidos like men. When I’m not having sex, Sylvia, I’m fuckin’ thinkin’ about it….” “I’m just like that too, Ida. I think I’m kind of deranged that way…””Yeah, you are, Sylvia. I promised Deborah I wouldn’t have sex with you you. I promised her, Sylvia, but you look pretty tasty to me. I like to fuck in empty houses. When I’m measuring and hanging cabinets, it’s usually before the new owners have moved in, and there is this big empty house that I have all to myself…or if I have a lover who is helping me me put the cabinets in. Sometimes I get horny in the space with all the echoes and the “new” smell. We christen the house by making a noisy fuck in it before the owners take over. I love that shit, Sylvia.” “Sometimes, I pop some LSD and fuck, but that’s after we get all the precision work done and all the power tools are back in their cases. Did you ever do that?”I was at a loss, temporary, but still, for me, a loss for words was when I couldn’t fire an answer back without stepping on the last few syllables to come out of the first person’s mouth.”No, Ida, I haven’t done that exactly. I haven’t tried LSD. I’m kind of afraid about it. What if it makes me crazy, like they say?””Well, for me, it makes me kind of crazy for a little while, but I can still function. When I get going on that stuff, I just want sex and then more of it. For some people,even a little touch or a kiss is way too intense on acid, but, for me, the more intense the merrier, so, if the circumstances are right, I like freaky fucking…””Do you do more than one guy?””If I can, honey, if I can. I’m not s*******n, honey, I’m forty-two, and I’m not pretty and I never was. When I get my chance, I take it.I’m not going to have sex with you, Sylvia, I promised, but I know a lot of cute boys and girls…””You asked me about my mom?””Yeah, Deborah called me and she was very upset. She said she didn’t know how it happened, but got into a big kaçak iddaa sex thing with you and Rachel….and her boyfriend? and you girlfriend? Holy shit, Syll…””Yeah, it was nuts. I was having sex with this boy from school. we were really getting it on. He was a young guy, you know, those guys have a lot of sperm in there. He had put two loads on me and in me and were still going!””Like a dope,I forgot to close the door, and mom walked by and saw us, ME,, her little honor roll student, with this boy’s jizz running off my chin…so then she got all turned on, and I was turned on from fucking and no come…so we got into it. we totally fucked, Ida, totally. Then her drummer and boyfriend, Cecil, got in on it, and my girlfriend Judy came over and got in the fuck pile and even thirteen year old Rachel was there, but she didn’t fuck. ..it was crazy, ida, and I think my mom is still upset with me about it. I’ve felt like a whore ever since, and I figure, since I feel like a whore all the time, instead of always giving it away. maybe I would try to make some money at it. I love to perform, as you know, so for me doing that whore kind of fuck in front of lots of people and getting paid for it, too….I think that’s interesting, Ida, I really do, and I’m pretty sure that I’m going to be “Little Brenda, the Nymphomaniac” My pimp and I have the whole thing worked out…””Oy. a pimp she has already.” Ida laughed.”Well,honey, that sounds pretty crazy, all right, but I’m not the aunt who is going to tell you anything about how to run your life. You’ve got five aunts on your father’s side who can do that.””Are you planning to have sex while you’re here?””I’m thinking about it…””Don’t look at me when you say that. To be honest, my panties are getting a little damp right now with you around. I’m gonna keep my promise, though…Sylvia, I’ll bet you are the best puss eater in California…””Yeah, I like that, I like to do that. I think there is only one way to settle a bet like that…’:”Sylvia, I’m a busy woman. I got five or six cabinet jobs lined up, I’m behind on that, and I need the money. This gallery guy in San Francisco wants me to bring more paintings over to his place on Divisadero. I’m going to get back to work and let you be for a while. You can have a room and bed for yourself, but that room is full of canvases and paintings easels and brushes. You could sleep in my big bed, hon, there is lots and lots of room…I have a friend who is coming to join us for dinner later on .Her name is Dulce (Dool-say) She is Thai. Have you ever made love with a Thai woman?””No, I….””If she is in the mood, you are in for a treat, Sylvia. Thai women don’t grow up with the Christian, Jewish or Muslim crap about women and their bodies, women and men, women and sex, for the most part.l gives this old lady the screamin’ shivers, if you know what I mean, and honey, I fucking know you do. So we are going to make a nice dinner for her. would you mind getting on my bicycle and riding a few blocks down San Pablo to the Tokyo Fish Market. The lady there is really sweet. She has the rock cod we need for dinner on ice. It’s paid for, you just have to pick it up and come home, Okay?””Sylvia, it’s going to be good. I’m with ya, dear,don’t worry about anything…””You’re not going to dose me with LSD?””No, baby, I don’t do stuff like that. Do you want me to?”Ida kissed me a big wet sexy with lots of tongue mouth kiss.I wasn’t too crazy for fish, but I sure liked what she said about Dulce and the way Ida kissed meOn the way out the door, Ida turned and said “Movies! We are going to have a delicious meal, some wine, some nice pot, no LSD tonight, i’ve got too much shit for tomorrow…I’ve got to have my brains tucked in. I can’t promise anything from Dluce, I have no idea how she might feel about being intimate with another person, but she always has a big fuckin’ itch to scratch, just like …just like you. If she touched you, or kissed you or crawled into our bed, would you be okay?””Well we’ve never met.””Okay, let’s leave it at that place for now. She is very sweet and sexy…I think you will like her.” “Ida, there is some sex stuff I need to talk to you about.””Don’t worry, I know. A lot will happen after we eat have some wine and get high, okay? I’m your loving auntie, hon, I’m not going to steer you wrong.”Ida’s bicycle looked like it was new in about 1940. Really heavy, no gears, with a giant basket that looked as if it had been welded to the front wheel and the handlebars.”I live in west Berkeley. It’s all flat here, I couldn’t use her if I lived in the Berkeley hills, but she is perfect for my neighborhood. I can get most of what I need for living within a few blocks, anyway, and most of it will fit in the basket, too. I ride her on the sidewalk, mostly, though I’m supposed to ride her in the street, but buses and bikes don’t go so well together on San Pablo Avenue, Go see Mrs. Hajimoto. She’s got everything we need for dinner down there, and it’s already paid for.”When I found the little place, Mrs. Hajimoto was very friendly. she had everything in a double strength brown paper bag ready for me.”There is the rock cod, soba noodles, sesame oil and fresh garlic. Your auntie just called. She wants you to stop at the little market that you must have passed on the way and get some turnip or mustard greens”I had never heard of any of this kind of food.Mrs. Hajimoto put the bag into my basket and smiled at me. “Your aunt, she is wonderful lady. Everything for her here always free. Do you want to know why?”She walked me behind the counter into an enormous kitchen.”All this, this beautiful kitchen, Ida make…excuse me..made for me. She never kaçak bahis take any money..all she wants is fish, rice and soba! And she comes to see me sometimes. She even give to me this painting”, showing a large canvas of a swimming rock cod that hung in the front of the shop. “So I’m happy to trade her the fish..and for her. always, always the best I have!””Come back soon, Sylvia, and enjoy your meal…”When got to Robinson’s Market for the greens, it was the same story, Ida had built the check-out counter for them and a beautiful glass front cold box for their meat, with lights inside, so that everything looked delicious, In exchange, she got her meat and fresh vegtables for nothing. The Robinson’s had okra in their store, and ham hocks, Chitlins, all kinds of strange food that I had never seen before. Mrs. Robinson gave me a big slice of sweet potato pie to try. It was so good my mouth exploded into a dance for joy Maybe somebody slipped Beethoven some pie like this before he wrote “Ode to Joy”. She put another whole pie in with the greens.I was riding the bike down the wide sidewalk with all the food in the basket, trying not to spill. i loved how it felt to be there. I hadn’t thought about opera for a whole day. I didn’t know about all this stuff for dinner, but I was pretty sure some sex thing was going to happen tonight. and as I eased my front wheel over the sidewalk cracks, I thought about what sexy mischief three women could stir up. Little did I know….”Dulce does the finishes for me, first here and then the final finish work and polishing after we get them to the site. .I’ve got this big job for a guy who is the mayor of one of those towns south of Oakland, San Leandro or Hayward or someplace like that. Get this: This guy is having this really expensive fancy house built, with oak and cedar interiors, right at the base of the Oakland hills. There is literally an earthquake fault that goes under his house. When we take a little break from working, I grab a little bit of my sweetie’s bum and we take a gander out the window. The whole hilliside is covered with that stuff they call “kerosene bush”, because that is what it burns like if it ever catches fire, as it frequently does when it gets so dry here for a few months. In the winter, those slopes turn to mud, and sometimes a mudslide will take houses and everything in them. including the people. So that’s where this rich guy is building his fucking fancy half-million dollar house!. I’m getting paid a lot to make it look real pretty inside. It makes me think about that Buddhist thing about everything being temporary, “”Sometimes Dulce and I get a little randy over there. I mean what the hell, Sylvia, it’s all temporary for us too! It’s just that working over there puts it all in a kind of perspective, right?””Honey, I’m such an ass. This is my friend, partner and lover,,Dulce, this is my niece, Sylvia Greenburg. I have known her since she was a little girl, but that’s not what she is now.'”Honey, Dulce and I are going to shower and start on the dinner. Just get the stuff out of the bags and put it on the table.””Mrs. Robinson really likes you. I saw what you did in her store. She sent you a present.””Great. I love Darlene, too. When I moved here, I didn’t know anybody, so I used my skills to make friends with lots of folks in my neighborhood. I like to feel as if I live someplace, and fifteen years after I got this house, I really do. Love it here.”Do you own the house?””Damn skippy I do, all of it. all paid for, too.”Wow, how did you do that?””Hun I’m going to get in the shower and clean Dulce’s little Thai tush. You can join us if you like..”For one of the few times in her life, Sylvia declined such an open invitation. “I’ll get the dinner stuff out and set the table. I don’t know how to cook any of this stuff.” “If we don’t get there right away, we might be rolling around in my bed. I’m so fucking horny today..”Dulce smiled and kissed Ida’s face. “I get the rocks off of her.” She laughed.Ida said “Sylvia, you don’t have to stay outside the door. I know we are going to have sex sooner or later, despite what I told your mom. I can totally feel it, can’t you? If you hear us with those lovemaking noises, my door is open for you. Do I need to be more clear?”I was in the kitchen, just moving stuff around. I wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Of course I was listening for sex sounds, even though I was trying to pretend that I wasn’t. I hadn’t had any sex, except for my hand, for about two weeks, and in those days, when I was s*******n, that was a long dry spell for me. But I had already had sex with my sister and my mom. Was I going to turn around now and do it with my aunt? so far, in my short life, I had demonstrated that I was not so good at declining or even deferring sexual situations. I had come to Berkeley to TALK to Ida about sex, not to do it with her. It was clear she had other things on her mind. I liked Dulce. She was a small Asian woman, long black hair, stocky body, “A” cup boobs, and a tiny little ass. . She kissed me ‘hello’ when we met, and that hit me right in the chakra between my legs.I began to hear them. Two women making love can just be the sweetest sound. I listened for a little. their love sounds, the train whistle sounds, and those pigeons in the eaves. Ida moaned , “Come on baby, eat my pussy…come on…”Before I had another thought, my hand was in my panties. “Sylvia! don’t stay out there playing with yourself! We have plenty of room!”I pushed the door open. Dulce was between Ida’s legs, with her face in her pussy. I liked that, but what really got me was her little naked brown butt bouncing around. She was masturbating while eating Ida. I liked that, because that is just what I do. I love to see people masturbate, just love it, so here was a nice little eye treat for me.”Well, I’m in it now”,I thought, and I began to get out of my clothes.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32