Jane felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as Roger closed the door to his room.
"I can't do this," she moaned.
"I told you, we don't have to do anything," he said.
"Why did you bring me in here then?" she asked, her knees feeling weak.
"Roberta was trying to talk you into something," he said.� "I got
you away from her.� We can just sit an talk for a while, and then
go eat."
"Oh," she said, feeling disappointed, somehow.� �
She sat in the easy chair in his room, before her knees failed her.
"So, what do you want to talk about?" he asked. �
"Don't ask me that," she almost moaned.
"We're both adults here," said Roger.� "We should be able to talk about our feelings without getting all worked up."
"I don't feel like an adult," she said mournfully.
"Well you are," he insisted.
"OK, then, I suppose the best thing to do is for me to go to my room,
and for you to stay here," she said, her chin almost jutting out.
"I don't want to do that," he said.
"You just won't make this easy ... will you?" She glared at him.
"Look," he said patiently.� "I don't know if what's going on here
is love at first sight, or just frustration, but I'd kind of like to
find out.� I'm not trying to horn in on Jed's territory, but at
the same time, it's clear you're not really in love with him.� In
my book that makes you fair game." �
She looked startled and he realized he might have sounded
coarse.�� "That sounded bad," he said.�� "I didn't
mean to make it sound like you're some kind of conquest or something."
"Right now, it would be simpler if you were all just cave men," she
said, sighing.� "Then you could fight over me."� She sighed
again.� "Jed would probably win, though."
"I might fight dirty," said Roger, smiling.
"You're confusing me," she complained.� "How can a woman resist
this kind of thing?�� You've paid me more compliments tonight
than I got in the last five or six years!"
"Why do you have to resist so much?" he asked.
"I thought you wanted some deeper relationship," she moaned.
"I do," he said softly.� "But I can't get there if we're going to go be apart in our rooms."
"We're supposed to be talking ... not forming a relationship," she whined.
"Isn't that what Bob had in mind?" asked Roger.� "He wants is
couples to have real relationships, based on things other than just
sex."
"But sex is all I can think about right now!"
"OK," he said.� "Me too, to be honest with you.� But like I
said, we're adults.� If we can't handle this, how in the world can
we expect the kids we teach to handle things?"
"You have to promise not to make love to me," she said.
"I already told you I don't think we're ready for that yet," he said.
"I know, but that's not what my body is telling me.� If we stay
here ... alone together, I know I'm going to want to ... do
things."� She looked at him steadily.� "And I don't want to
do things."
"Yes you do," he said gently.� "We're being honest with each other ... remember?"
"You know what I meant," she said stubbornly.
"OK, I promise not to make love with you," he said.
To give them both their due, they tried to talk.� There was only
one chair in the room, and she was in that, so Roger sat, and then lay on
his side, on the bed.� They tried to talk about anything but sex,
but soon Jane found herself up, and pacing.�� Somehow she sat
on the bed, next to him, and the next thing she knew, they were
kissing.� She couldn't even remember whether she kissed him, or he
pulled her down.� The kiss exploded in her and, without breaking
contact, she lay down next to him.�� It was a long kiss.
When, at last, he pulled away, she opened her eyes.
"We weren't supposed to do that," she said, breathing deeply.
"What did you think about while we were kissing," he asked, ignoring her.
"Your lips," she said simply.
"Not your father?" he asked softly.� "Not Jed?"
"No," she said, and tears came to her eyes.
He kissed her again, and she gave up.�� His question had made
it clear to her that she wanted him more than the other men in her
life, or in her fantasies.�� That thought weakened her
completely.� She didn't think about the possibility that she was
just so horny that it was clouding her mind.��� As she
crushed her lips to his, she knew, in the dim recesses of her mind,
that she'd feel guilty ... later ... but she pushed that thought away,
and concentrated on the kiss.�� She felt his five o'clock
shadow, something she'd never experienced before.�� She
kissed him the way Paul had kissed her, using his tongue.� Jed had
never kissed her like that, even when they'd made love.� Jed had
always been methodical, doing the same things, getting up when they
were done, to go back to some kind of work.
She could actually feel the yearning in Roger's kiss ... the passion
that made his body seem to vibrate.� She wanted to be naked.
When that kiss broke, she felt for him, feeling like a strumpet,
sliding her hand to the front of his pants, to feel his strength there.
"Slow down," he whispered, kissing her neck.
"No," she said.
"We're not going to make love," he said.
"I changed my mind."
"Tomorrow night," he said.�� "You need some time to think."
"I don't want to think," she moaned.� "I want to feel this."� Her hand squeezed.
"I'll give you an orgasm, but not with that," he said into her ear.
"You're not a man ... you're a beast," she whined.
"If you still want me tomorrow night," he said, "then we'll talk about it."
"I don't want to talk," she groaned.� "I want THIS!"� She squeezed again, harder.
"Take off your clothes," he whispered.
She thought she'd worn him down.� Once she'd given up on her own
resistance, she'd left it without a care, just like when Paul had
seduced her.� Now, with no shame, she bared her body to this new
man, this man who inflamed her so much ... who she thought about as she
kissed him.� She lay before him, unconcerned about her tiny
breasts, seeing the lust in his eyes as he looked at them.� She
knew her nipples were long and spiked, like they always were, but she
wasn't ashamed of them now.�� Her hand drifted to the fluff
of brown hair above her slit, unable, now that her passion had been let
loose, to keep from feeling something there.
She expected him to disrobe, and was eager to see him do that.�
She was astonished when, instead of doing so, he moved, getting on his
hands and knees between her legs.
"I've always wanted to do this," he panted.
Then, he leaned down and his lips fastened to her pussy lips and sucked.
Jane saw stars as Roger did to her, what she'd seen her father doing to
her mother, so long ago.�� When his teeth found her clit, she
jerked her hips upward so hard that he lost contact, and his face
burrowed between her legs to get it into his mouth again.
Her wail of appreciation told him she was having an orgasm, and he
pressed his face to her pussy harder, fighting her natural tendency to
squirm and buck and thrust.�� She felt his hands grip her
buttocks and she wailed again as the feelings coursed through her body.
She sobbed, a combination of laugh, cry and the inability to get enough
breath to do either, and he stopped, to kiss his way up her belly to
those stiff nipples.� Paul had sucked at those, so she knew what
to expect when his mouth closed over one.� She mewled and arched
her back, gasping in relief as his groin ground into hers, even though
his pants were in the way.
"Fuck me," she whined, electrified by her use of the words she'd never spoken before in her life.
"No," he said, switching to the other nipple.
"Please," she begged.
Instead, he went back to her pussy, and gave her two more orgasms
before he pulled his mouth away from her sloppy, slippery pussy
lips.� She lay, gasping for breath, weak now.� His eyes were
round, and looked wild.
"Take your clothes off," she said, her voice husky.
"Tomorrow," he gasped.� "We have to wait until tomorrow."� He wiped his mouth with the back of her hand.
"I'll suck it for you," she panted, astonished again.� She never
talked like this ... never said things like she'd said in the last half
hour.
"I'd love that," he panted.� "But I can barely control myself right now."
"Then don't," she said, thrusting her hips up off the bed.
"I promised."
"I release you from your promise," she panted.
"Tomorrow," he said doggedly.� "Tomorrow, you can release me from my promise."
Jane, perhaps because three orgasms had taken the edge off,�
realized that, while she wanted to go on ... to spend all night with
him ... he was trying so hard that he had to have some need ... a need
she didn't understand ... but that she needed to honor.� She knew
this was important to him, because she knew it was important to her
too.� She wasn't a slut, yet she had begged a man she barely knew
to fuck her.�� That was her want, she realized ... not her
need.� He had fulfilled her need, though not the way she'd
anticipated.�� His want was strong.� She could see that,
but his need was stronger.� �
She could wait until tomorrow.�� How she felt now was crystal
clear in her mind.� She WOULD have him tomorrow.� She felt a
pang of loss as she realized there was no Jed any more ... that she
would lose her family over this ... but seeing Roger standing there,
his pants bulging with his own want, and knowing that he cared enough
about her to honor a promise she didn't even want him to keep
...�� That reached deeper into her than just her desire for
another orgasm.
"If I didn't fall in love with you at first sight," she said, lying her hand on her stomach.� "I think this did it for me."
"We'll talk about that tomorrow too," he said, stepping back.
"You're going to go masturbate, aren't you?" she asked, feeling more bold than she'd ever felt in her life.
"Yes," he said simply.
"Do it here ... for me," she said.
"That's not a good idea," he said.
"I promise I'll only watch.�� You kept your promise.� I'll keep mine," she said, closing her legs.
"Can you keep that promise?" he asked.� He'd been amazed at her passion.
"Do you promise to make love to me tomorrow?" she countered.
"I promise to talk to you about that," he said.� "Of course I want to, but this is going too fast."
"I know how I'm going to feel tomorrow," she said.
"I'll believe it in the morning ... at breakfast," he insisted.
"Just do it for me.� Are you really hard for me?" she asked,
playing the vamp, and loving the feeling of being able to say that.
"I'm dying for you," he panted.
"I won't touch you," she urged.� "I won't even get off the bed."
She was elated to see him unzip his pants.� He left them on, but
pulled his penis and balls out of the fly.�� His hand covered
his stalk, so she couldn't really see what it looked like, but she felt
the need to touch herself too, and did so.
"It is hard for me," she cooed, stroking her clitty.�� Her
eyes glittered as he began stroking himself.� "It will be hard for
me tomorrow too, won't it?" she asked, sliding a finger into her pussy.
"Yes," he gasped.
"And then you'll put it here," she said, jabbing her finger deep into
herself.� "And I'll get to feel it all hard inside me."
"Yes," he panted, stroking faster.
"Will you cum in me, Roger?" she asked, spreading her legs again,
opening herself wide.� She felt the urge to be tawdry, and pulled
her finger out.� She used two fingers of each hand to spread
herself apart, exposing her inner pinkness to his eyes.� "Will you
cum in my pussy tomorrow, when you make love to me, Roger?"
"Yessss," he groaned, and a burst of semen shot from the tip of his
penis.� She had nothing to compare it to, never having seen a man
cum before.�� He was past his prime, and the three shots he
produced only went a foot of so in the air, to land wetly on the bed
spread beside her thigh.� �
As far as she was concerned, it was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen.
It was more awkward for Roger than it was for Jane, after he had
finished.�� He felt foolish, somehow, while he stuffed his
limp penis back into his pants and zipped up.� She lay there,
unashamed, glorious in her nakedness, just looking at him.
"I could just stay here," she said.�� "It will be tomorrow in a few hours."
He almost groaned.� She was much more like his fantasy, than he
was hers.� She looked young, and her wanton posture and speech had
been that of a fresh young girl, not of a grown woman.�� He'd
had fun.� There was no doubt about that, but he really wanted
there to be something beyond the sex, which surprised him more than he
would have imagined.� In his fantasies, about the young girls, all
there was, was sex.�� Just as her fantasy was now frayed
around the edges, so too, was his.
"I'll see you at breakfast," he said.� "I'd tell you that I think
I love you too, but it's still to early for that."� He smiled
crookedly. "Right now, I'm going to take a little walk, while you get yourself together and go to your own room. If I stayed here ... well ... that wouldn't be a good idea right now."
"OK," she said.
When he left, she lay there, feeling more relaxed than she had in a
long time.�� When she moved her hand, it ran into his semen,
on the bedspread, beside her.� She didn't recoil, but lifted
sperm-coated fingertips, to peer at the unfamiliar fluid.� She
sniffed it and, astonishing herself even further, tasted it
too.�� The musky scent translated to the taste.� It was
a little bitter, but it wasn't bad.� She was reminded of the
difference in the taste of coffee, freshly brewed, and coffee that had
been sitting in the teacher's lounge all morning.� If she wanted
coffee badly enough, the bitter taste didn't bother her a bit.
She scooped up more, rubbing it into the bed spread in the process, but getting two fingers well covered.
Then, with those two fingers, she masturbated herself to another orgasm. Then she got up, dressed, and walked around the pool to her room. When she got inside, and into bed, she rubbed some more, but not to orgasm.
As she drifted off to sleep, her stomach growled.� She didn't care.� She felt too good to get up.
Roger walked around for a while, stopping by the bar to get a
sandwich.� He felt like everyone was looking at him.� He
wanted to go back to her room.� He wanted to make love with
her.� It had taken every shred of self control not to do it with
her, but he knew, somehow, that it was the right choice.��
She had acted so completely different, a Jekyl and Hyde kind of
difference, almost.� She needed time to think.� If, as she
insisted, she'd still want him in the morning, he'd give in to speeding
things up.�� This was the closest thing he'd come, since
Elizabeth had died, to a relationship that felt right somehow.� He
couldn�t explain it.� Maybe there WAS such a thing as love
at first sight.� �
He'd always thought you had to fall in love BEFORE there was
sex.�� He knew he liked this woman.� He knew she was
unhappy.� He felt the urge to make her happy.� Was that
love?�� It wasn't like what he'd felt for Elizabeth.�
But they'd been together a long time.� He tried to remember how he
felt about Elizabeth back in the beginning.
All he could remember was the first few times they'd had sex.
