Chapter Four

   Jennifer was so distracted by what had happened in the truck stop that
she forgot all about the pillow.  She just climbed back on the bike without
putting it back in place.  Bob didn't notice either.  He was more concerned
with not appearing to speed off.  He wasn't worried if the cops stopped
them, but it would cost time, and he didn't want that.  As he pulled out
across the parking lot, heading for the exit, Jennifer leaned forward and
spoke in his ear.

   "I'm n-n-not a little g-g-girl!"

   Bob laughed and turned his head as images from last night flashed
through his mind.

   "You got that right, Princess.  You're for sure not a little girl any
more."

   Jennifer felt the warmth of satisfaction in her chest as she squeezed
Bob.  Then he turned onto the highway and accelerated, and she remembered
the pillow as those disturbing/delicious feelings began to pummel her.

   She took it for five miles before she knew she had to do something.  She
reached behind her and tugged at the pillow.  Then she had to stand up on
the foot pegs to try to get it into place.  The bike wobbled a little and
Bob turned his head.

   "Sit still!" he barked.

   "The p-p-pillow!" she shouted.

   He slowed while she stood and stuffed the pillow into place.  She got it
almost all the way under her, but when she sat down her butt was still
being vibrated, just at the bottom of her slit.  It wasn't so bad, though,
so she squeezed him to let him know she was settled.

   For the next hundred miles she leaned her head against his back and just
enjoyed the buzz.  When they stopped for gas she was turned on and had to
admit it to herself, even though her butt hurt a little.  She got off the
bike and walked around, feeling bowlegged.  To her disgust, she felt like
rubbing.  When she got back on the bike she fiddled with the pillow and
found that, with it in just the right place, she could lean back against
the sissy bar, which prevented the exquisite feelings.  But if she leaned
forward, the crotch of her jeans came into contact with the seat of the
bike and, though she didn't know it, the clitty whizzer.

   For another hundred miles, she alternated between leaning forward long
enough to have a glorious orgasm and then leaning back to recuperate from
it.

   It took Bob fifty miles to figure out what she was doing.  He didn't
quite know what to think.  The bike was doing its job.  And she'd
masturbated herself in bed the night before.  She WAS an adult,
technically. But he also thought of her as his niece and, therefore,
untouchable.

   Still, when they stopped for gas the next time, he had to adjust the
boner in his jeans.  = Three hundred miles was all they could take that
second day.  With the hard tail suspension, even Bob was ready to stop,
even though it was only three-thirty in the afternoon.  They had spent an
hour having lunch and, going on two lane roads with towns slowing them down
regularly, had only averaged about fifty miles per hour.  They agreed to
stop for the day when Bob filled up the third time.

   Jennifer's thighs ached and her butt hurt.  Her abdominal muscles,
unused to both the stress of leaning back on the pillow and the five
orgasms per hour she'd been having since breakfast, felt like she'd done
too many sit-ups.  She couldn't help but walk bowlegged when she got off
the bike at the Comfort Inn he pulled into.

   "We're going to have someplace nice tonight," he said, leaning back to
stretch his back.  "Maybe there's a laundromat around here, too."

   The clerk at the desk was completely polite and assumed nothing about
them except for one thing.

   "We've got a hot tub in the pool area," he said helpfully, looking at
the helmet cradled under Jennifer's arm.  "I hear it soaks the aches and
pains away really well."

   "Th-th-that sounds d-d-divine!" sighed Jennifer, completely unconcerned
that she was stuttering.

   "Laundry facilities?" asked Bob.

   "A block and a half that way," said the clerk pointing.  "And a Super
Wal-Mart down the street another mile or so.  There's a card in each room
with places that will deliver takeout, and there are tons of places to eat
on the strip."

   "Got a double?" asked Bob.

   The clerk checked his computer.

   "I have a room in the back with two queens," he said.  "It's
non-smoking, though."

   "Perfect," said Bob.  = In the room Jennifer flopped onto one of the
beds.

   "Everyth-th-thing h-h-hurts," she moaned.

   "The hot tub will fix you right up," said Bob.

   "I d-d-don't have a b-b-bathing s-s-suit," she sighed.

   "Wal-Mart will," said Bob.  "You want to take a nap before we go get
one?"

   "N-n-no," she said.  "I w-w-want to b-b-be ab-b-ble to j-j-just crash
wh-wh-when I g-g-get out of th-th-the t-t-tub."

   "That means getting back on the bike," he said gently.

   "Ohhhhhhh," she moaned.

   "You want me to go pick you something out?"

   She sat up and looked at him like he was crazy.

   "L-l-like you'd g-g-get the right s-s-size!" she said, as if it was
obvious that was impossible.  = They spent an hour in Wal-Mart while she
picked out a bikini and he found a pair of baggy trunks.  He also picked up
another back pack that he was pretty sure he could fasten to the handle
bars.  It would look goofy, but would double the storage room they had. 
They each got two more T shirts and he got them each a pair of gym shorts
to sleep in, so they wouldn't have to wear jeans.  He also bought a small
bottle of laundry detergent, and they returned to the motel.

   When Bob stepped out of the bathroom, wearing the trunks he'd gotten at
Wal-Mart, Jennifer was ready to go.  She had changed into her new bikini
and put a T shirt on over it.  He handed her a towel and they headed to the
pool area.

   Jennifer walked straight to the hot tub and dipped her hand in the
water.

   "Mmmmmmm," she said.  Then she whipped the T shirt up and over her head.

   Bob hadn't paid any attention to the two piles of cloth that she'd put
on the conveyer belt at Wal-Mart.  He'd been getting the credit card he
intended to use out of his wallet as the cashier had scanned the items and
bagged them.  He was therefore unprepared when he saw the bikini on
Jennifer's body.

   It was black and stood out starkly from her untanned skin.  It showed a
LOT of that skin, even though it was relatively modest by most standards.
The bottoms consisted of two triangles that covered front and back, while
rising high on each hip, connected only by two bows.  The bra covered the
front of her breasts, but exposed the sides and all of her cleavage.  The
bra cups were connected by another bow.  Spaghetti straps went around her
back and neck to hold the cups in place.  As she shook her blond hair,
straightening it from being mussed by the T shirt, he gazed at what was
most assuredly a very grown up looking Jennifer.

   He felt his groin tighten and, afraid that his stiffening prick would
show in the baggy suit, scrambled into the hot tub rather too quickly.

   "Ahhhhhh," he groaned as the steaming hot water felt like it burned his
skin.

   Jennifer got in more slowly, bending over to smooth water over her arms
and shoulders as she slowly lowered her buttocks into the water.  Bob
stared helplessly as her hanging breasts wobbled in time with her hand and
arm movements.  Even the heat of the water didn't keep him from getting
fully erect.

   Jennifer had paid him no attention at all as she eased herself into the
water.  Once she was in up to her neck, a dreamy smile suffused her face
and her eyes closed.  She wobbled in the water, and opened her eyes to see
Bob leaning back against the wall of the tub, gazing at her.

   "Feels good," she sighed, without stuttering.  She moved toward him and
sat next to him, leaning her head back on his arm, which lay on the edge of
the tub.  Her hip pressed against his and she leaned into his side. 
"Mmmmmmmm...soooo good."

   Bob was fine, as long as he didn't have to stand up.  He didn't want to
anyway.  She was right.  This felt really good.  The clerk had been right,
too.  He could already feel the aches and pains oozing out of his muscles.
As long as her hand didn't land in his lap, everything was good.  = Bob
jerked awake from a cat nap and realized they'd been in the tub for far too
long.  He felt weak as he roused Jennifer from her own nap with her head
leaning on his chest.  He got out of the water and the cool air immediately
invigorated him.  Jennifer resisted, though, as muscles that suddenly felt
like spaghetti made her sag and wobble.

   "C-c-carry me," she whined.

   "I don't think so," he said grinning.

   "C-c-come on," she moaned.

   He scooped her up and then walked to the edge of the pool.

   "D-d-don't you d-d-dare!" she moaned.

   He dared, though, and the splash from her impact hit him, feeling like
ice after the heat of the hot tub.  Her yell sounded both tortured and
outraged.  She rose to the surface spluttering.

   "Y-y-you p-p-prick!" she shouted.

   "Tsk, tsk," he grinned.  "Such language from a genteel young lady such
as yourself!" He put a look of shock on his face.

   Energized by the cold water, Jennifer swam to the side and vaulted up
onto the deck.  She stood glaring at Bob until she noticed his wide eyes.
Then she looked down at her bikini top, where he was staring.  The water
had dislodged one of the cups, and her left breast was bare.  The chilled
stark pink nipple stood out strong.

   "P-p-pervert!" she laughed.  "I'm g-g-gonna t-t-tell my d-d-daddy!" She
giggled as his mouth dropped open and felt an uncharacteristic heat in her
belly as she saw stark appreciation in his eyes, before he covered them
with his hand.

   "Damn, Jen," he groaned.  "Don't do that to an old man!"

   She reached for the cloth between her breasts and tugged it back over
the exposed flesh.

   He turned around, to face away from her.  She didn't know it was to hide
his suddenly burgeoning prick from her, and just thought he was being
gentlemanly or shy.  That made her feel wonderful, too.  It was her first
experience with a man looking at her like a woman, and she was surprised to
find how good it felt.  She remembered, suddenly, that morning, when he had
seen her whole lower half bare.

   "It's n-n-no big d-d-deal," she said.  "Y-y-you saw m-m-my b-b-bottom
bare, t-t-too."

   "It IS a big deal," he said.  "You have no idea what that does to a
man."

   "W-w-well it's y-y-your fault anyw-w-way!" she giggled.  "Y-y-you're
th-th-the one who th-th-threw m-m-me in!"

   "Oh, come on," he said, sounding disgusted.

   He returned to the hot tub and picked up two towels that they'd brought
with them from the room.  He held one over his groin and tossed her the
other one.

   She stared at the towel he was pressing against the front of his suit
and understanding hit her like a ton of bricks.  He not only saw her as a
woman...he REACTED to her like she was a woman.  The flush of triumph in
her belly swelled and flowed upwards into her chest.

   "Well," she said thoughtfully.  "Y-y-you're n-n-not just an old m-m-man.
Y-y-you're a d-d-DIRTY old m-m-man!" She giggled again.  "I k-k-kind of
l-l-like it."

   Bob's eyes suddenly lifted and she felt something like heat from his
stern gaze.

   "Don't tease me," he said, his voice low.  "You're a very beautiful
woman, Jen.  I can't help reacting to that, but let's not do anything to
screw up a good relationship, OK?"

   The intensity of his voice was her first clue that there was some kind
of strong emotion going on inside him.  This was too new to her.  Only
recently had she thought of Uncle Bob as a man...in the sense that men
interacted with women on a sexual level.  That occurred to her now, as her
eyes dropped to the towel.  It was obvious why he was covering it and it
almost scared her to think of him...being a man...with a woman.  It seemed
foreign to her somehow, like thinking about your parents having sex.  It
was just disturbing.  And he sounded mad!

   "D-d-don't be m-m-mad," she pleaded.

   The stern look fell off his face at the anguish in her voice.

   "I'm not mad, Princess," he said.  "It's just that..." He didn't finish.
He didn't want to say what was really on his mind.  If he did, he'd be
telling her he wanted to see ALL of her naked, preferably in bed, ready to
be mounted...by him.  No...that wouldn't be a good thing to tell her at
all. "Never mind.  Milk under the bridge." He frowned.  "I mean spilled
water." He threw up his hands as she giggled again.  "You know what I
mean."

   She was happy then, and it seemed perfectly normal to skip up to him and
slide her arm through his as they walked back to the room.

   It never occurred to her that the naked side of her breast was pressed
warmly against his biceps.  She did, however, notice that he kept that
towel firmly against the front of his suit.  = Back in the room Bob went,
to the bathroom to change.  He took off his suit and then stood, staring
into the mirror at his rampant erection.  With a sigh, he gave up, gripped
his meat and whacked off, again thinking about Jennifer.  He aimed his jets
of semen into the toilet and milked every possible drop out of his
softening cock.  He sighed again.  At least he wasn't horny right now.

   Out in the room, as Jennifer took off her bikini and dried off, she
wondered what he had been hiding looked like right about now.  Had she seen
what he was doing she would have died of embarrassment, at least initially.
Unknown to her, curiosity would have pushed its way to the forefront and,
if she could have watched him secretly, she would have.

   She went to the backpack and pulled out panties and a bra, still
reflecting on the newness of the look on his face when he saw her naked
breast.  She wondered what he'd do if she was still naked when he came out
and shook her head.  Why was she thinking about that kind of thing?  She'd
never done that before.  This entire trip had seemed like it was taking
place in a whole new world.

   She slipped on her underthings and then put her jeans back on.  She
pulled her other new T shirt on and was combing her hair in front of the
mirror when Bob opened the door and came out.  He stopped suddenly.

   "Sorry," he said.  "I forgot to check to see if you were decent."

   She turned around to face him.

   "Uncle B-b-bob?"

   "Yeah?" He was distracted by looking for a place to hang up his wet
suit, which he'd brought out of the bathroom with him.

   "Y-y-you've always s-s-said I c-c-could talk to y-y-you about
an-n-nything."

   "Sure," he said, deciding to just lay the suit on the counter of the
kitchenette in the room.

   "I've b-b-been f-f-feeling strange th-th-things on th-th-this trip," she
got out impatiently.

   "What kind of things?" he asked, deciding he should have left the suit
in the bathroom.

   Jennifer felt her face heat up and realized she was blushing.  How could
she explain to him what had been happening?  When she didn't say anything,
he turned and went back into the bathroom.  He returned without the suit
and saw her combing her hair almost angrily.

   "I'm sorry," he said, realizing he had just walked out on her.  "What
were you saying?"

   "N-n-nothing," she said tersely.

   He went to stand behind her and put his hands on her waist.

   "Come on, Princess.  I said I was sorry.  I'm listening now."

   The feel of his fingertips on her waist confused her even more, because
it was something so normal and yet it felt so different than it ever had
before.

   "I c-c-can't t-t-tell you," she gasped.  She moved forward, away from
those disturbing fingers.

   Bob had never dealt with a difficult teenager.  Not really.  Some of the
men in the SEALs were teenagers, but they weren't difficult.  They were the
cream of the crop.  And throughout her adolescence Jennifer hadn't had the
mood swings and tumultuous behavior of most girls.  She'd bottled it up
inside her, just like she'd bottled up her frustration with her speech
impediment, for the most part.

   Now, though, she was acting like a prickly little bitch, and it took him
by surprise.  He backed up and sat down on the end of the bed nearest him.

   Bob was intelligent, though, and he HAD spent a lot of time with this
young woman.  When she'd said she loved him, it hadn't seemed odd at all.
She was a very loving girl and always had been.  It was his intelligence
that put the pieces together, though.  When a woman was acting like she was
acting, it usually had something to do with the way a man was treating her.
Or at least the way she THOUGHT a man was treating her.

   Since she was still combing out her hair, he thought about their trip
thus far.  He had forgotten about the clitty whizzer, and she'd gotten a
full dose of it.  She'd been a wreck until he got her the pillow to sit on.
That suggested she wasn't used to those kinds of feelings.  He reminded
himself that of COURSE she wasn't used to it.  He was sure both that she
was a virgin and that she had very little, if any experience with boys.

   He remembered her telling him forcefully that she wasn't a little girl,
after their ordeal at the truck stop.  Then he remembered her behavior on
the bike for the last hundred and fifty miles.  She'd been working that
queen seat.  He was sure of it.  He had assumed she was just doing what
came naturally to a woman on the Babe Bike.  After all, she'd masturbated
intentionally on the bed last night.

   But there were conflicting signs, too.  He thought about her obvious
discomfiture when he saw her naked pussy that morning, after she'd been
rubbing on his leg in her sleep.  That reaction was completely different
than when he'd seen her bare breast in the pool.  She'd actually flirted
with him then...or at least it had seemed like it.  And he'd yelled at her
for it.

   With a flash of insight he realized that she was, for the first time,
coming to grips with her sexuality.  It HAD to be that.

   "Jen?" he said softly.  He saw her look at him in the mirror.  "Did you
want to talk about those strange feelings you've been having on the bike?
Was that what you wanted to talk about?"

   He saw her eyes widen and she flushed bright pink.  She covered her face
with both hands, still holding the comb.

   "Hey," he said soothingly.  "All that's completely normal.  You don't
have to feel bad about it.  I just forgot about the..." He stopped
abruptly. He still couldn't confess about the clitty whizzer.  She'd never
understand that.  If she thought he was a dirty old man for staring at her
breast, she'd have fits if she found out about the clitty whizzer.

   "What?" came her voice.  She was peeking between her fingers.

   "Nothing," he said, not noticing that she hadn't stuttered.  "You've had
a different kind of life as a young woman, that's all.  You might be
feeling things you've never felt before."

   She turned around, her eyes even wider.

   "H-h-how do you KNOW th-th-that?"

   "Well..." He faltered.  He couldn't tell her about the clitty whizzer,
and he couldn't tell her he'd seen her rubbing off on the bed last night
either.  "I've been around." He tried a weak grin.  "You know."

   She slumped.  "N-n-no," she said softly.  "I d-d-don't know. 
Th-th-that's the p-p-problem.  Th-th-this never ha-ha-ha...hap-p-pened
b-b-before!" Her last words were explosive as she was almost unable to
speak at all.  Frustration was painted all over her face.

   "Calm down," he said.  "Remember how I told you, you were all grown up?"

   She nodded and he saw her eyes were wet.

   "This...these feelings you have...they're just part of being grown up.
You never got to figure it all out when you were younger, but it's
completely normal.  I promise."

   "B-b-but why n-n-now?" she whined.

   This he thought he might be able to get away with.

   "Well, it probably has something to do with the bike," he said.  "The
vibrations...well when they hit your...um...girly parts...I mean I've seen
it happen before.  I mean women who have ridden with me kind of told me
that it was happening to them."

   Jennifer brightened immediately.  If it happened to other women, then
maybe there really WASN'T anything wrong with her.

   "Really?" she asked hopefully.

   "Yes.  Of course," he said.  "That's why I got you the pillow.  I
remembered that some of them had said that, and you seemed to
be...um...uncomfortable so...well, I got you the pillow."

   Jennifer's mind whirled.  He'd KNOWN what was happening to her?  All
this time he'd KNOWN and she'd been afraid to ask him about it?  She
suddenly felt silly and girlish.

   "I th-th-thought there w-w-was s-s-something wrong with m-m-me," she
moaned.

   "No!" he said urgently.  "There's nothing wrong with you.  It's
completely normal to get..." He decided not to use the word he had in mind.

   "Horny?" she asked, using it for him.

   Now it was Bob who felt his face get hot.

   "Yeah," he said.

   "I-i-it's awful!" she gasped.

   "No it's not," he insisted.  "It doesn't mean there's anything wrong
with you.  Everybody gets horny sometimes."

   "B-b-but all I c-c-can th-th-think of is s-s-s..  SEX!" she gasped,
finally getting the word out.

   Bob wanted to groan, but didn't.  She was obviously troubled by all
this, his protestations of her normality notwithstanding.

   "Look, Princess," he said, patting the foot of the bed beside him.  She
sat down and turned toward him.  "Like I said, you never got a chance to
work this kind of thing out slowly.  Most girls fall in love a dozen or
more times while they're growing up.  They have feelings for their
boyfriend and then they break up and find a new boyfriend.  They get to
take things slowly and explore what's happening to them a little at a time.
But the boys you knew were idiots and you didn't get to do that.  So it's
all just kind of happening really fast and all at once...that's all." She
looked hopeful so he went on.  "So if you're thinking about sex a lot right
now...well, OK, that's fine.  Once we get your parents all squared away,
and I get you back home, and you don't have the bike messing with you,
things will settle down.  I'm sure of it."

   "B-b-but I still w-w-won't have a b-b-boyfriend," she said sadly.

   "You will one of these days," said Bob.  "You're a babe.  And sooner or
later you'll meet a man who ISN'T an idiot and he'll understand just how
special you are and then you'll have to fight him off."

   "Really?"

   "I'm sure of it," said Bob, thinking of how HE had seen her, and how HE
had felt the urge to mate with her until the cows came home.  Any other guy
who got to be in that situation would be just as crazed by her innocent
sexuality as he was.  "Now," said Bob, trying to bring the conversation to
a close.  He felt his penis acting up again, remembering her nudity and her
enthusiasm while she was masturbating in the night.  "We need to find that
laundromat, and get something to eat.  We can make it to where your parents
are tomorrow if we start soon enough.  I'll stop more often, to give you a
break if the pillow isn't working very well."

   "It w-w-works," she said.  "B-b-but I..." She blushed again and covered
her face.

   Bob remembered her leaning back and then leaning forward as they drove.
In for a penny...in for a pound.

   "You kind of like how it feels?" he guessed.

   Her hands whipped down from her eyes and her mouth dropped open.  He
stood up and waved a hand in the air.

   "Like I said.  Don't feel bad.  Most women like that feeling.  It's
perfectly normal.  Now, if you put your gym shorts on, we can wash both
pairs of your jeans.  I'm starving here.  How about a pizza tonight?"

   Jennifer's sense of relief was so strong she almost cried.  Uncle
Bob...the man she admired more than anyone but her father, had said there
was nothing wrong with her, and that if it felt good it was just fine.  She
lurched up off the bed and hugged him fiercely.

   "Th-th-thank you," she moaned into his chest.  His strong arms around
her shoulders didn't feel either strange or erotic to her.  Instead, they
just made her feel warm and safe.

   "My pleasure," he said, patting her back.  "Now grab your pillow and
let's go find that laundromat!" He swatted her on the butt.

   She pushed away.

   "I have t-t-to ch-ch-change," she reminded him.  "Y-y-you do, t-t-too."

   He sighed, found his gym shorts and returned to the bathroom.

   This time he remembered to ask if she was decent before he went back in
the bedroom.

   "Ready?" he asked.  She obviously was, with the backpack slung over one
shoulder.  "Got your pillow?"

   She shook her head.
   "I w-w-won't n-n-need it for th-th-this," she said firmly.
