Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.

The children were excited when they found out Rachel was going to be there
for dinner that night.  The air of excitement transferred to the women. 
Meg and Sally, of course, were glad their new friend would be coming.  For
the others, there was the anticipation of having someone new in the house,
and they were interested to make their own judgment of this woman who had
been the topic of so much talk in town.<br><br>
   Now, two weeks after school had started again, Rachel's face had healed
to the point where she merely looked jaundiced.  The dark black and purple
bruises had faded to a sickly yellow, and her lips had healed to the point
where she could speak plainly and they caused her no pain.  She wasn't
quite as self conscious about her appearance, and was happy that she was
going to break up the tedium of her normal existence by eating supper at
Milleson House.<br><br>
   Plus, she'd get to see Bobby again.  She hadn't started tutoring him in
the afternoons again, yet.  She was still very tired after half a day of
dealing with children.  While she got to see him in school every day, she
missed getting to concentrate on just looking at him.<br><br>
   As she hurried through the crusty snow she reflected on that thought. 
At school she acted completely normal toward him, and had been since school
had started back up.  He did the same things in the classroom he had always
done, helping the children, or reading.  Her attitude toward her hero, as
she had called him, was no different on the outside than it had ever been.
<br><br>
   But on the inside Rachel's attitude toward Bobby had undergone a vast
change.  Thankfully, a lot of what had happened to her during the attempted
rape was not available to her conscious memory.  She remembered the
incident, but there were large gaps in that memory.  Much of it had been
suppressed.  She remembered knowing that she was going to be raped.  That
had made her angry, because she had always treated her virginity as a
precious gift that she would one day offer to a man of her own choosing. 
She hadn't met a man who deserved it, in her opinion.<br><br>
   It wasn't fair to say that she hadn't had sexual urges.  She had felt
them many times as she danced with some young man, or flirted at a party.
She had experimented between her legs, and knew what that thrill felt like.
And, at school, she was busy enough that she didn't let her mind dwell on
those infrequent sexual urges even more infrequent since she had moved to
Nebraska.<br><br>
   But at night, when she lay in the bed where her cherished virginity had
almost been ripped from her by that savage man, and she thought about how
Bobby had looked that day in school, or remembered his eyes looking into
hers, she felt things that she wasn't prepared to feel.  Her mind
remembered how she had been naked in front of him, and that he hadn't tried
to hurt her, like the other man ...  how he had held her ...  how the
horror had been held at bay, as if it had some special power to keep her
safe.<br><br>
   He HAD kept her safe.  He had saved her.  She had never been in love
before.  She didn't know what 'being in love' felt like.  But she had never
felt for a male like she felt for Bobby ...  in the night.  She tried not
to think about it, because it was frightening.  No, that wasn't the right
word.<br><br>
   It was exciting.<br><br>
   It made her want to be naked in front of him again.<br><br>
   She didn't understand that urge ...  thought it was insane for her to
feel sexual toward someone who was so closely involved in the horror of
that incident.  She had examined that for hours, lying there, trying not to
slide her hand between her legs to press against that place that felt so
good to press.<br><br>
   Over the long nights, though, she had come to realize that what her
attacker had been doing wasn't really about sex.  It was about dominating
her ...  taking from her ...  terrorizing her.  And Bobby wasn't like that.
He didn't take.  He gave.  As miserable as his life had been, he somehow
came down on the giving side of things and offered himself whenever he saw
a need.<br><br>
   And, she had decided, she had a need.  She wanted Bobby to meet that
need.  She had no idea, however, how to go about that.<br><br>
   That was why she was ambivalent about going to supper too.  Excited ...
and ambivalent at the same time.  She shook her head and laughed out loud.
How could a young man affect her like this?<br><br>
   Then the door was in front of her, and her hand was knocking.  June Bug
opened it, smiling widely, pulling at her sleeve, welcoming her into the
warmth of the house.  A feeling of ecstasy welled up in her.  She was loved
and wanted here.  At least by this precious girl.<br><br>
   That feeling was confirmed as she took off her coat, exposing the best
dress she owned, and had worn because being invited to supper seemed like
such an honor.  The children gathered around her, their voices mingling
into a cacophony of sound that, rather than grating on her ears, caressed
them.  She wiped at her eyes, ashamed that a mere greeting could make her
feel so powerfully wanted.<br><br>
   Mrs.  Milleson pushed through the throng.<br><br>
   "Here now!  Children!  Give the poor woman a chance to breathe," she
said, clearing a place around Rachel.  Rachel felt the woman's eyes on her
like she was under a magnifying glass, being scrutinized.  But the woman
had a smile on her face.<br><br>
   "Welcome" she said.  "Come in.  Stand by the stove and warm yourself."
She pointed the way.  "You must be a wonderful teacher for these terrible
children to be so excited."<br><br>
   "They're NOT terrible" said Rachel before she could stop herself.  She
blushed.  "I mean they're really wonderful Mrs.  Milleson.  You're doing a
wonderful job raising them."<br><br>
   "Lands sakes, girl, call me Mavis," said Mavis.  "No need to be formal
around here." She continued looking at the young woman.  "I suppose they
are good children at that."<br><br>
   The smells were wonderful, and the atmosphere was wonderful, and by the
time Rachel was seated at the table she wished it would go on forever.  She
recognized meager fare when she saw it, but the happiness on the faces of
the children was so real that the plain meal seemed right somehow.  She
watched as the women did what mothers everywhere do with children at meal
time and felt a sudden urge to have a roomful of children of her own.  Her
eyes darted to where Bobby sat, down the table.  He was helping Emily spoon
corn onto her plate.  She blushed at the thought that went through her
mind, and took a bite of roast quickly.  She wasn't used to thinking such
things, particularly not in public.<br><br>
   Mavis had seated her at the head of the table, and had placed children
on both sides of her, in an unspoken invitation to join in the matronly
duties around the table.  She did so, feeling that she was lucky to be able
to do something so simple as helping a child eat.<br><br>
   When all had been served, and the chatter had muted due to full mouths,
Mavis established some adult conversation.<br><br>
   "Well, your color seems to be much improved," she said.<br><br>
   Rachel was usually uncomfortable when someone talked about her face. 
Somehow, in this setting, it didn't bother her.<br><br>
   "Yes, the doctor says I was very lucky, and that when everything heals
completely there will be almost no sign of what happened," she said.  She
still had to chew gently though.  Her jaw hadn't been broken, but whatever
held one's jaws together had been strained.<br><br>
   "That's good," said Mavis.  "Beauty such as yours should not be
spoiled."<br><br>
   Rachel blushed again, unaccountably pleased that this woman thought she
was beautiful.  She had always taken her beauty for granted.  Not any
more.<br><br>
   "Thank you," she mumbled.  Her eyes went again to Bobby as she wondered
if he thought she was beautiful too.  Always before she'd have assumed all
men found her beautiful.  Not any more.  "He said there will be some small
scars."<br><br>
   Mavis looked closely at the woman's face.  Again she felt like she was
under a magnifying glass.  She nodded.  "Yes, I can see them now.  I don't
think they'll detract too much.  Lines on a face give it
character."<br><br>
   Mavis looked surprised that she'd said that and then laughed to cover
her own blush.  "Of course I'd say that.  Old women want to believe lines
make for character." <br><br>
   Rachel was surprised.  Mavis Milleson might be in her mid thirties, but
she was certainly no old woman.  "How would you know?" she asked, meaning
it to be a compliment.  "Have old women told you so?"<br><br>
   There were titters from several of the other women, Meg among them, but
smiles went with them.<br><br>
   Mavis sat back in her chair.  She felt old sometimes.  That feeling had
come from a lot of things.  She had married well when she was nineteen, to
a merchant who provided her with a big house and announced that he wanted
her to fill it with his offspring.  What he did to advance that plan had
thrilled her to her very core.  But before he could put a baby in her womb
he had developed a cough that became worse and worse and then, tearing her
new and wonderful life apart, had taken him from her.  She was left with a
big, empty house, and the thought of trying to fill it with another man had
been unthinkable.  Turning that empty place into a boarding house had been
a thing of necessity, and running it had taken all her time and energy to
the point that she had settled into that role - the role of a widow woman
who ran a boarding house - and didn't think about that wonderful thing her
dead husband had done with her in their bedroom.  Slowly, her boarders
became her 'children', and she cared for them instead of for her own
offspring.  Then the depression came, and the war, and suddenly real
children filled her house.  That was both good and bad.  Good because her
old yearning to have a houseful of children was realized.  Bad because she
fell in love with them all, and some of them got taken away from her. 
<br><br>
   They weren't taken like her husband had been taken, but the pain felt
almost the same.  And she was still too busy to think about that other
thing that was still missing from her life.  Because of that, and the
unending work she so willingly submerged herself in, she didn't feel young
any more.<br><br>
   Rachel's blatant compliment made Mavis feel better than if a man had
whistled at her.<br><br>
   "You're welcome at supper any time you want to come back." Mavis
grinned.<br><br>
   Rachel was invited to stay after supper, to listen to the radio.  She
watched as Bobby sat nearby, working on a carving.  She saw others on a
shelf on the wall and went to examine them.  One was of a dog standing, one
front leg lifted, his back straight, his tail stiff and nose straining
forward.  It was gorgeous.  Another was of a bitch, lying on her side, with
puppies gorging at her teats.  That carving made it appear as if the dog
and her puppies were rising from the depths of the wood, appearing as they
drifted upwards.  It had an unfinished look, and at the same time made the
viewer realize the relationship between the unfinished original tree
underneath, and the living, breathing creatures the tree had yielded up.  A
third piece was a medallion of intricately carved interwoven lines that
formed a Gordian Knot.  It was small enough to be placed on a jewelry box
or some such thing and would make a plain box precious because of its
intricacy.<br><br>
   She realized Mavis was standing beside her and looked over.  <br><br>
   "They're so beautiful," she said, her voice almost a whisper.  "They
grip my heart," she said.  Without realizing she was saying it she added
"Just like Bobby."<br><br>
   Mavis arched an eyebrow.  "Not you too."<br><br>
   Rachel realized what she'd said and blushed.  "Not me too ... 
what?"<br><br>
   "That boy's got three of us wrapped around his finger like a teenaged
girl at her first dance." She didn't realize that her use of the word "us"
made it impossible to tell if she was one of the three she mentioned or
not. Rachel, hearing that, felt comradeship with the older woman.<br><br>
   She turned to Mavis.  "Yes, me too.  It's terrible!  All I can think
about is what he did for me.  What I wish ..." She stopped.  "He's just a
boy," she said helplessly.<br><br>
   "I'm not so sure of that," said Mavis, thinking her own thoughts.  "I've
got a feeling he's much more of a man than he looks."<br><br>
   "Why would you say that?" asked Rachel, curious about anything that
involved Bobby.<br><br>
   "When he first came here we thought he was simple minded.  We gave him
baths ...  like we do the other children."<br><br>
   Rachel stared at Mavis.  The idea of Bobby, being bathed ...  his skin
bare and slick with soap ...  Her nipples tightened and tingled.  "You've
seen him ...  naked?" she asked.<br><br>
   Mavis looked at Rachel's wide eyes and chuckled.  "We all have.  By the
time we figured out he wasn't anywhere near stupid, it had sort of become a
habit, I guess.  I should do something about it.  Something's going to
happen.  I can feel it in my bones.  If it hasn't already," she said,
staring at Bobby.<br><br>
   "You can't mean that any of these women have ..." Rachel couldn't
finish. Somehow the thought of any woman lying with Bobby made her want to
scream.  Well, any OTHER woman.  "You haven't ...  have you?" she said
automatically.  Then Rachel flushed bright red.  "Oh Mavis, I'm sorry.  I
shouldn't have said that.  I have no business prying into your
affairs."<br><br>
   Mavis turned her shrewd glance on the young teacher.  "No, only three of
them have bathed him.  And I don't think any of them have done anything
completely insane.  That's not to say I haven't thought about it myself. 
He just has this ...  something.  I can't put my finger on it.  I should
put my foot down, but I can't." She turned to her guest.  "And now you're
smitten with him too.  Lands sakes.  I need to get that boy out of here and
into a proper place for a boy his age before something happens for
sure."<br><br>
   Rachel felt panic at the idea of Bobby going away.  "Mavis, I'd just die
if he went away," she said.  Then she promptly slapped her hand over her
mouth, horrified that she'd said it aloud.<br><br>
   Mavis laughed though.  "Don't feel that way.  I know how you feel.  I
can't believe some of the things I've thought about here lately
myself!"<br><br>
   Rachel felt better, and her jealousy fled as if it had never been.  She
had someone to confide in who understood, at least a little, of what she
was feeling.<br><br>
   "Do you think we're terrible?" she asked.<br><br>
   Mavis actually thought about that a little bit before answering. 
"Rachel, I don't rightly know if we're terrible or not, but I do know this.
He's a good boy, and he deserves whatever happiness he can find.  And I
think that goes for the rest of us too.  Life's been pretty hard for the
last few years.  One part of me thinks it's like robbing the cradle.  But
another part of me thinks that's one big baby over there." She grinned to
ease the seriousness of her voice.<br><br>
   "Well" said Rachel, keeping her face as calm as she could.  "If you ever
need any help at bath time, you let me know."<br><br>
   Both women burst into gales of laughter, and Bobby looked over at them
from his carving.  Their laughter caused a natural smile on his face and
that just made the women laugh harder.<br><br>
   Then Meg cornered Rachel and took her off to read to the children who
weren't listening to the radio program.  Mavis walked over to where Bobby
was carving and admired the horse he was working on.  The large, ungainly
chunk of wood he'd started with was becoming a rearing stallion before her
very eyes, as, sliver by sliver, he removed the wood that wasn't part of
the horse.  She remembered the large medallion he had carved for the
cabinet maker.  It was still sitting in her room, where she'd put it for
safe keeping until she could take it back to the man.  She should have
taken it days ago, but somehow kept forgetting.  She liked staring at it
when she was getting ready for bed.  She decided to take it to the cabinet
maker the next day.<br><br>
   "You're collecting quite a harem young man," she said casually to Bobby.
He looked up and smiled that beautiful loins-wrenching smile.  "You just be
careful," she said.  "You're biting off more than you could ever chew.  If
any of those women fall in love with you it could cause an uproar."<br><br>
   Bobby was astonished at her words.  He knew that what he was doing with
some of the women was fun - for all of them - but the concept of a woman
falling in love with him, especially older women like that, was like
thinking he could suddenly fly.  He snorted and raised an eyebrow at his
guardian.<br><br>
   "You laugh now," said Mavis, reaching out to stroke his hair.  "I think
next time you take a bath it had better be me who tends you."<br><br>
   His smile disarmed her completely.  He looked almost eager and it made
her feel like a school girl who's been asked to a dance for the first time.
She had a fleeting sensation of caution that shot through her.  "Then
again, maybe that's not such a good idea," she said.<br><br>
   His look of obvious unhappiness made butterflies dance in her stomach
and suddenly she didn't feel nearly so old and wrinkled.
   </p> <p style="padding : 0 0 10px 0; margin : 10px 0 10px 0;
border-bottom : 1px dotted #2b7bff;">
   The next day Rachel asked Bobby to walk her home after school.  Her
visit to Milleson House had been an eye opener for her in several ways. 
First she was astounded by the love that the five women poured out onto
their helpless charges.  She had known them all as students, but seeing
them at home made her realize they were children who, though they had no
parents or kin, were loved none the less.  Her own upbringing had been
short of that kind of love, though there was some.  Her amazingly frank
talk with Mavis had somehow set her free to think about things without
feeling like she was perverted, or strange.  And, seeing Bobby carve ... 
seeing him do things that men did for a living ...  made her look at him
more as a man.  Her conscious mind knew he was a boy, but when the radio
had given the war news, and talk had turned to Prudence's husband, away at
war, Donna had offhandedly said "At least we don't have to worry about
Bobby.  He can't talk, so they won't take him and send him off to die." She
had turned to look at the boy, and realized that in a very short time
indeed he would be the same age as men who were fighting for freedom.  He
would be a man.  The thought of him dying pierced her so painfully that
she'd had to sit down for a few minutes.<br><br>
   That night she thought about how close she had come to death.  She
thought about all those children, in that big house, and how wonderful it
would be if they were all her own.  She dreamed impossible dreams of Bobby
as her husband ...  of Bobby helping her to fill a house like that.<br><br>
   She didn't actually plan anything.  It was all just cotton in her head.
But at school she asked him to walk her home.  And when they got there she
offered to feed him, little as she had, and poor cook that she was.  She
watched him eat the cold ham she cut for him ...  watched him lick his
fingers and wolf down half a loaf of bread with butter.  She gave him one
of her hoarded apples, and watched as the juice ran down from the corners
of his mouth as he crushed the sweet pulp between his teeth.<br><br>
   And words began coming out of her mouth, unbidden, horrifying to the
"good girl" in her, but unstoppable.<br><br>
   "You saved me," she said.  <br><br>
   He waved his hand, as if he had only split some wood for her, and
smiled.<br><br>
   "You saw me naked."<br><br>
   The smile disappeared from his face, and he became serious.<br><br>
   "No man has seen me like that.  Not before that day," she said.  Her
hands gripped her skirt and twisted it, an unconscious nervous
outlet.<br><br>
   <br><br>
   "You saw me naked and all you did was hold me, and comfort me," she
said.<br><br>
   He shrugged.  He didn't know what else to do.<br><br>
   "I never thanked you," she said.<br><br>
   Bobby pulled paper from his pocket.  He always carried that now, along
with a stub of pencil.  "Yes you have.  Many times," he wrote.<br><br>
   "I didn't thank you like I should have," she said.  "You are my hero
Bobby.  And the heros in all the books get the fair maiden's love in
return. They get other things too, Bobby."<br><br>
   Bobby wrote "Those are just fairy tales."<br><br>
   "I want you to kiss me Bobby," she said, her face serious.  "Like in the
fairy tales.  I know I'm still ugly, but would you kiss me? 
Please?"<br><br>
   Bobby wrote "Not ugly.  Beautiful." in the corner of the paper.  The
pencil slipped in his greasy fingers, and smudged the paper.<br><br>
   "Let me wash your hands," she said.  He stood up and she realized he was
taller than she was.  She'd never noticed that before.  She took him to the
sink.  She had the gray rough soap he had always seen before he came to
Milleson House and he reached for it.  But she snatched the soap first. 
<br><br>
   "Let me," she said.  <br><br>
   The water was cold, and she got the pot she had put on the stove for
tea, adding some to a small pot and mixing in cold.  Then she washed his
hands, rubbing each finger.<br><br>
   "Mavis told me they give you baths," she said.<br><br>
   Bobby's eyes widened.  What came through her voice astounded him.  He
looked at her like an authority figure ...  a teacher ...  someone to
please ...  and who could make life either good or bad for him.  No
authority figure had ever said anything to him in that tone of voice.  He
felt his penis stir at that tone, but couldn't believe she meant what it
sounded like.  He couldn't help but look around the room for a tub.<br><br>
   She smiled.  "No, I don't have a tub like they do over there.  I have to
take my baths in this pot," she said.  His look of confusion made her
smile.<br><br>
   "Like this," she said.  Her fingers went to the buttons of her dress and
undid them.  She wore the only brassiere she'd been able to afford.  It was
old now, and thin ...  stretched by the weight of her breasts, but she
didn't care that he saw it.  The look in his eyes as her near-nude body
appeared actually settled her.  He looked at her like a man looks at a
woman.  That just solidified in her mind that he was, in fact, a
man.<br><br>
   She took a rag and dipped it in the water.  Then she rubbed it on the
bar of lye soap and rubbed it up an down one arm, changing to do the other.
Then she rubbed the rag over her chest, above her bra.<br><br>
   "Like this," she said again.  "Is this how they bathe you?" she asked,
her voice husky now.<br><br>
   Bobby shook his head.<br><br>
   "Show me," she said, breathing faster.  "Show me how they bathe
you."<br><br>
   Bobby took the rag from her and dropped it in the sink.  He got the soap
and dipped it in the water and managed to make thin lather on his hands. 
He slid his hands down her arm, one on each side.<br><br>
   "I washed there already," she said, her eyes staring into his.  Her
hands went to where the bra came together in the front.  There were laces
there and she pulled at a loose end, undoing them.  The bra sagged and
pulled apart.  Breathing faster still she pulled it apart.  Bobby started
to look away and she spoke.<br><br>
   "No, you've seen me before.  It's all right.  Wash me here," she said,
cupping her breasts.<br><br>
   She moaned as Bobby's hands cupped her heavy mams and slid around the
sides, and then down, his hands scraping across her nipples.<br><br>
   "Oh yesss," she hissed, her eyes closing.<br><br>
   Bobby stopped.  He thought he knew what she wanted now, but still had a
hard time believing it.  He dipped his hands in the water and then rinsed
her breasts, watching as the water dribbled down across her abdomen and
turned her panties dark where they became wet.  Her hands came to his
wrists and he thought it was to stop him, but they pushed his hands back to
her breasts.<br><br>
   Now he knew for sure.  It was something he'd never have believed, but
her actions made it clear.  He leaned over and sucked at her nipple,
pulling it in, like he had the others.<br><br>
   "AAAAHHHHHH" she groaned, her hands moving to his head.  She suddenly
pushed him away, her hands going to his shirt buttons, pulling at them,
trying to get them open.  Her eyes were wild and her teeth were bared as in
her frustration she pulled and a button went sailing across the room to
bounce on the floor and hit the wall.  <br><br>
   Now it was Bobby's hands that stopped hers, he kissed her once, quickly
on the lips, and shrugged out of his suspenders, his fingers finishing what
she'd started.  She stood, frozen, watching his skin appear and beginning
to pant.  She stared at the bulge in his drawers when it was uncovered and
held her breath.<br><br>
   When he pushed his drawers down, and his bouncing penis appeared, her
voice took on a high pitched keening noise as she let that breath out
between tightly closed teeth.  She sounded terrified.<br><br>
   Bobby took one of her hands, suspended in front of her like some statue,
and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it, like he had read about
in books.  Her eyes came back up to his and she smiled a tremulous tiny
smile at his offer of chivalry.  That little act penetrated her terrified
brain.  He didn't move ...  didn't attack her ...  didn't threaten her ...
just stood there looking at her with his serious brown eyes.<br><br>
   "I've never done this," she said, her voice tiny and shrill.  "I don't
know what to do," she whined.<br><br>
   Bobby had learned a lot in the last few months.  Some of it had been
taught to him, but he was a shrewd judge of character and of people in
general.  He could hear the fear in her voice, and he didn't like that
sound.  He wanted nothing to do with hurting this woman.  He knew she had
been hurt by the last man ...  knew she had not been herself for days
afterward.  When he'd next seen her she seemed her old self, though
horribly bruised.  He knew what that was like - being beaten - and knew
what that did to a person.  Very gently, almost painfully slowly, he pulled
at her, getting her close enough to him that he could hug her.<br><br>
   Rachel hadn't realized how cold it was in her house until she felt her
breasts touch Bobby's chest.  She hadn't been able to think about much of
anything once she'd felt his hands on her breasts.  She couldn't believe
this was happening to her ...  couldn't believe how she was acting.  But
the dream she was having, while astonishingly frightening, also felt
somehow right and proper in a way she couldn't begin to understand.  And
right now she didn't want to think.  She just wanted to be warm and held in
this man's arms.  <br><br>
   A sob lurched from her lungs, shaking her shoulders, and her arms went
around Bobby like a vice.  She was unbelievably strong in that moment,
crushing her chest and loins to his.  She felt that stiff prong against her
belly, and it cause a heat there that was deep inside her.  All her late
night cottony yearnings rushed into her head and burst into parts of her
body.  Her nipples, despite being against his warm chest spiked painfully,
and she felt a gurgle in her belly as she became wet between her legs with
a rush of fluid.<br><br>
   "I'm cooold" she murmured into his chest.<br><br>
   She felt his head turn ...  toward the bed.  Something burst inside her
and she pushed him away.<br><br>
   "Yes!" she barked.  "The bed!"<br><br>
   She all but ran the few short steps, pulling him behind her by his hand.
She threw back the covers and then pushed at her panties, ripping them in
her haste to get them off her body.  She fell, tripping and he caught her
by her hips, pushing her toward the bed.  She rolled and with his
assistance, ended up on the bed, scooting to get under the covers.  She
looked up to see him standing beside the bed, staring down at her.  His
penis looked immense to her untrained eyes, like a club.  But she wanted to
be beaten with that particular club.<br><br>
   "Get in bed with me," she moaned.  "You have to get in bed with
me."<br><br>
   Her invitation galvanized him and he slid in beside her - not on top of
her as she expected - but beside her, moving up against her.  She writhed
against him, trying to get every square inch of her skin to touch his.  His
lips found hers and she thought she'd drown on dry land as his tongue swept
into her mouth and she suddenly couldn't breathe.  Now she wanted to push
him back out, suddenly afraid again ...  afraid of her own reactions to
him.<br><br>
   But that kiss went on and he didn't force her to do anything.  Her mind
calmed just enough to pull back from panic, and began to recognize other
sensations.  Again she felt his heat, and squirmed at the pleasure of that.
One of his hands was on her back, sliding up and down.  It slid onto her
buttock and she clenched it, shoving her mons toward his, loving the rough
feel of his hand scraping her skin.  Her kiss became demanding and now it
was her tongue that forced its way into his mouth, searching for whatever
it was she needed so desperately.<br><br>
   Her whole body felt like a balloon, filling with something that was
going to make it burst into a thousand floppy pieces.  Her hand went to his
shaft and she was astounded at the velvety feel over the hardness that she
knew was made to thrust inside her body.  <br><br>
   She hadn't planned anything.  She had wanted something, but she hadn't
known exactly what that was.  Now she wanted this velvety hard thing to go
where she suddenly felt so empty.  She pulled at him, knowing that the man
was supposed to be on top, but not knowing what else to do.<br><br>
   He rolled on top of her, remembering the feeling of Prudence's flesh,
wrapped tightly around him and knowing that was what this woman wanted too.
He felt the tip of his cock nudge into that unbelievable heat.<br><br>
   "Slowly" she groaned, ending in an "eeeeee" sound.  Prudence had wanted
him to push hard, and go deep, and that was the only way he knew to do this
thing he'd done only once.  But her cry that held fear in it made him
hesitate and he pushed only a little.  He felt the resistance immediately
and she groaned again, in pain.  He didn't want to hurt her, and pulled
away from her.<br><br>
   "Nooooo" she cried.  "It's supposed to hurt the first time," she moaned.
"I need you Bobby.  Pleeease."<br><br>
   This was something he didn't understand.  If it hurt her, why would she
want to do it?  He wanted to be inside her.  That was a feeling he wanted
badly.  But not if she cried out.  She was pulling him toward her again,
pulling him into that heat again.<br><br>
   "Push" she demanded.<br><br>
   He pushed and the resistance bent his prick ...  and then vanished as if
it had never been there.  He had increased the weight of his push, and when
her hymen tore he sank into her as deeply as he had with Prudence.<br><br>
   Her agonized cry of pain made him freeze and her fingers dug into his
sides.  When he tried to pull out of her those fingers gripped his flesh
painfully.<br><br>
   "Don't move," she groaned.  He felt her sobbing and didn't know what to
do.  He ducked his head and kissed her eyes, and then below them.  Her
cheeks were as far as he could get without going lower and she arched her
neck so her lips came to his.<br><br>
   Her eyes opened and she saw the concern in his deep brown ones.<br><br>
   "I want this," she groaned.  "Don't take it out." She kissed him, and
then again, and he felt her hips wiggle under him.  Then her tongue flicked
out and she licked his lips.<br><br>
   "It's not so bad now," she moaned.  "Just let me get used to
it."<br><br>
   Bobby was beginning to think there was something wrong with her.  She
felt wonderful, wrapped firmly around him down there.  Her heat was just as
hot as Prudence's had been, though she was tighter.  He remembered that
Prudence liked it when he pressed his hair against hers.  He dug in his
toes and rocked forward a little.<br><br>
   "OHHHHHHH" Rachel groaned.  The pain had been unbelievable as she felt
...  actually felt her flesh tear.  Her first thoughts had been that women
must be insane to want this.  But she DID want this ...  right now ... 
with THIS man.  The pain dulled almost instantly, to a feeling a little
like being bloated from eating too much.  Then he rocked forward, and she
thought the top of her head was going to pop right off..<br><br>
   "OHHHH YES," she croaked, her voice cracking with emotion.  Her interior
muscles rebelled against the invading monster, squeezing.  But she couldn't
resist, and those muscles relaxed again.  He felt that and rocked forward
again.<br><br>
   "Ohhhh Mama" moaned Rachel, and this time there was only a trace of pain
in her voice.<br><br>
   Bobby felt her muscles loosen around him, then they fluttered, like they
couldn't make up their mind whether to grip or loosen.  He heard something
other than pain in her voice and rocked into her again, mashing his hairs
against hers hard.<br><br>
   He pulled his penis halfway out, and then slid it gently into
her.<br><br>
   "Ohhh I love you," groaned Rachel.  At that moment the pain fled,
overcome by something else.  Her hips began to try to get that movement
inside her again, jerking.  Her hands pushed on his hips.  He backed, just
as she did too, and slid completely out of her.<br><br>
   "NOOOOOOO" she cried, hunching her hips up at him wildly.  "Put it back
Innnnnnnnn." He raised up and her hand darted between them.  When she
gripped him this time he was wet and sticky.  She nosed the tip back into
her emptiness and let out another long groan as he slid all the way back
in, pressing hard.  She felt something deep inside her that was pushed by
the tip of his hardness.  That hurt, but in a different way that she
instantly loved.<br><br>
   Slowly, as if blind and feeling their way, they established the age old
rhythm as he began to move in and out of her, pausing every third stroke or
so to push deep and press hard.  Rachel couldn't speak now.  She made
little sounds, mewls of pleasure.  The rational part of her mind whispered
"THIS is why women want to do this." The animal part of her mind just
demanded more.  The full feeling was back, and she felt like her skin would
burst as he sped up.  That place that felt so good when he pressed in was
scraped by his shaft as he moved it, and again she felt like the top of her
head must surely explode as the tension in her built to an unbearable
level.<br><br>
   Then it did burst.  It burst as he pressed deep and stayed there, the
tip of his prick nudging what she didn't know were her inner lips.  Those
lips kissed the tip of his prick as she saw stars and her world collapsed
on her like an avalanche.  She felt unbearable pleasure in her loins that
streaked outwards to all parts of her body like fireworks.  And through it
all, somehow, she felt, issuing from the tip of that hard thing inside her,
that was nosing into her virgin womb, the rush of his seed as it erupted
and filled her innermost secret place.<br><br>
   She wasn't sure when she became aware of anything outside her body.  The
first thing she felt was his weight, bearing down on her, and then his
chest moving against hers as he gasped for breath.  Immediately after that
she felt her own breath being dragged into her lungs in cool, clean rushes
that cleared her head.  Next she felt the heat generated by their union as
sweat trickled down her shoulder and into her arm pit.  She wanted to laugh
at all those times she had been disgusted by a runnel of sweat as it
betrayed her sensibilities.  She felt more of it between her breasts and
pushed on him to get air between them.  Her finger went to the little pool
of sweat as they both looked down between her breasts.<br><br>
   He had stopped filling her somehow, even though his groin was planted
firmly against hers, little trickles of joy still sparking in her as his
hair rubbed against her there.  Then she felt the real emptiness as he
lifted his hips and his softened member pulled free.<br><br>
   "Ohhhhh" she complained, as she felt that emptiness.  Then he shocked
her by dipping his head and licking at the tiny puddle of sweat between her
breasts.  She gasped, and kept gasping as his lips and tongue tickled their
way up one mound and he suckled the nipple he found there.<br><br>
   "Ahhhhhhhh" she sighed.  Ecstasy.  This was the definition of ecstasy.
THIS was why women wanted to do this thing.<br><br>
   He continued to lap and suck at her nipples gently, changing from one to
the other at precisely the right intervals, before his suction caused pain.
As he kissed her shoulders and then her neck she tilted her head, loving
the feel of his lips as they sent tiny thrills through her tired
body.<br><br>
   Tired.<br><br>
   She was exhausted.  She wanted to sleep for a month.<br><br>
   The feel of something wet dribbling between her buttocks made her think
of what that was.<br><br>
   His seed.<br><br>
   He had flushed her full of his seed.  <br><br>
   She was a woman ...  of childbearing age.  She could be pregnant as she
thought about this feeling.  She examined that possibility with a
remarkably clear inner vision, watching herself thinking about that ... 
watching her hand slid between them to seal off the leak of that precious
fluid.  <br><br>
   She wanted this man's baby.  She wanted ten of this man's babies.  She
wanted to start all over again and do what they had done for a month
straight.  THEN she would think about sleeping.  Her fingers pressed his
seed into her and she hit that special spot that he had made feel so good
...  that spot that had made the horrible pain go away.<br><br>
   Horrible pain?  Part of her mind knew there had been horrible pain, but
it was a dim and dusty memory now, something like a healed cut that only
felt a twinge now and again, but was almost whole.<br><br>
   Whole.<br><br>
   She felt whole.<br><br>
   She marveled at what she had done, and how completely whole she felt
with all that seed inside her body.<br><br>
   Bobby got up to his hands and knees, preparing to get off the bed. 
<br><br>
   Rachel moaned softly.  It was cold!  How could she be sweating and be
cold at the same time?  It was crazy!  As he stood up she pulled the
blankets over her with her free hand and made a humming noise as the warmth
from his back, that had been infused into the blanket, settled down over
her.  She peeked out from the covers, looking at him.  His penis was soft
and shriveled now, hanging forlornly between his legs, like a dog that has
been scolded.  She wanted to make it long and hard again, as it should
be.<br><br>
   He was bending over the table now, naked, and he was beautiful in her
eyes.  He didn't seem to mind the cold at all.  He handed her a
note.<br><br>
   "I should leave now?" it said.<br><br>
   "I don't want you to leave," she whined, like a little girl.<br><br>
   He went back to the table and wrote again.<br><br>
   "They'll wonder where I am," said the note this time.<br><br>
   "Will you walk me home tomorrow?" she asked, her voice still young and
petulant.<br><br>
   He nodded, smiling widely.<br><br>
   "Then you can go," she said.  She watched him as he dressed, watching
the muscles in his arms and back as he bent and stood.  She wanted him to
come back to bed, to stay in her bed the rest of the day ...  all night. 
She didn't know how often a man could do that, but she wanted it to be many
times per day.<br><br>
   He kissed her lips before he left, a soft, gentle kiss that made her
itch between her legs.  She wanted to make him kiss her neck and breasts
again, all over her body, but she knew he was right, that he had to go
home.<br><br>
   She wondered, as the door closed behind him, if she would hate herself
when she fully thought about what had happened.  She was asleep before she
could find out.
   </p> <p style="padding : 0 0 10px 0; margin : 10px 0 10px 0;
border-bottom : 1px dotted #2b7bff;">
   Meg sat and fed the baby at supper that night.  She had placed herself
so she could see Bobby without it being obvious.  There was something ...
different ...  about him tonight.  She watched closely to see what he did
at supper, but she saw nothing odd.  He passed bowls, and helped a child if
that child needed help.  He ate his usual prodigious amount of food, and
smiled and chewed.  She was almost frustrated because she KNEW that
something about him was different.  Was he a little straighter?  Were his
shoulders a little more squared?  Did he somehow look more
confident?<br><br>
   His eyes drifted and caught hers.  He smiled.  He needed a haircut.  But
he was so handsome it made her stomach hurt.
   </p> <p style="padding : 0 0 10px 0; margin : 10px 0 10px 0;
border-bottom : 1px dotted #2b7bff;">
   Mavis sat at the table, queen of all she surveyed.  She saw Meg watching
Bobby.  Sally was looking at him quite often as well.  She watched Donna
for a while, and didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.  Prudence, for
the last day or two, had been on cloud nine.  She laughed at everything. 
Her play with the children was intense and purposeful, as if she were
trying to squeeze every bit of joy out of life that it was possible to get.
Mavis wondered if her husband had seen the light and written her another
letter, begging her to forgive him and take him back.  She acted like that
...  like she had a good man in her life again.  <br><br>
   She was watching Pru when she saw her make eye contact with Bobby.  He
grinned and she blushed.<br><br>
   Mavis felt like she was watching one of those radio dramas play out
before her very eyes.  What was she going to do?  She had to do something
...  but what was it going to be?
  
orphanage_08