Chapter Fourteen

   Don was slow to accept the idea that it was OK for his best friend to
fall in love with his daughter.  He discounted completely Jennifer's
comment that she was in love with Bob.  She was just a kid.  What did she
know about love?

   His wife seemed to take the opposite approach, though she didn't push
it. She sent Bob to get sodas, with which to toast, but that was it.  Then
she tried to get her husband to find something he liked on TV.

   "Why?" Don asked suspiciously.  "Earlier today you were complaining that
I watch too much TV."

   "I want to have a girl talk with Jennifer," said his wife dryly.  "And,
as you might notice, there's no privacy around here."

   "You're the one who insisted on moving in," said Don.

   "Don't be an idiot," said Bob, sotto voce to Don, making sure Susan
overheard him.

   "Listen to the man," said Susan.  "Now, turn on the TV and turn it up
loud and talk to Bob about man stuff, because my daughter and I are going
to have a private chat."

   Don groused while Jennifer grinned and closed the curtain around Susan's
bed, but he turned on the TV anyway.  He flipped through a few channels and
stopped on Deal or No Deal, mentioning loudly what foxy models they had on
it.  He got no response, other than murmurings and whispers that were not
addressed to the men.

   A few minutes later he looked at Bob.

   "What the hell really happened?" he asked softly.

   "Don't ask questions you might not like the answer to," suggested Bob.
If his friend pressed, he wasn't going to lie.  This was too important,
even though he'd rather never...ever...admit to Don what had happened in
that motel room.

   "Don't tell me a little hanky panky caused her to stop stuttering!"
whispered Don tensely.  "There had to be more to it than that."

   "It was very...emotional..." Bob let it hang there and then decided to
emphasize it.  "Very, very emotional."

   Don frowned.  He opened his mouth, and then closed it.

   "Remember back to the first time you and Susan fooled around," said Bob
softly.

   A guarded look came onto Don's face.

   "Wasn't she different than all the others?"

   "What others!?" came Susan's voice through the curtain.

   "We're not eavesdropping on you," Bob called back.  "So quit listening
to us."

   "Men!" she snorted.

   Don grinned.  Then he frowned again.  "You're right.  She was
different."

   "It was more intense, right?"

   "I guess so."

   "Well it was very intense when we...um...talked about things."

   "And you really think that caused her to stop?" Don still sounded
skeptical.

   "All I know is that, when we were done...she wasn't stuttering anymore."

   "Done?  What do you mean done?" Don's eyes opened wide and an anguished
look came onto his face.  "No!" he said.  "Never mind.  I don't want to
know."

   Bob leaned back in his chair.  They watched TV for a while.  There was
continuous murmuring on the other side of the room.  Once in a while they
could hear an individual word, or part of a phrase, but not enough to know
what was really being said.

   Deal or No Deal was over, and Don was surfing through the channels
again, when the curtain was whisked back.  Jennifer was standing there. 
Susan's eyes were closed.

   "Mom's tired," said Jennifer.  "We should go now, and let them rest."

   "You just got here," said Don, turning off the TV.

   Jennifer went over to her father's bed and leaned over to put her face
in front of his.

   "There are only two men in my life, Daddy.  You're one of them, and I
love you.  You'll always be my daddy, and when you're well again, I might
let you try to tell me what to do.  But right now, you're not well.  I want
to go home, and I want you to be home, too.  That's not going to happen
until you heal up enough to be moved.  So you go to sleep, like Mommy, and
I'll see you tomorrow." She kissed Don on both cheeks and his forehead,
before standing back up.

   Don looked at Bob.  "Kids think they know every damn thing.  They think
that once their parents get over forty they're senile or something."

   "Oh Daddy, don't be so dramatic," sighed Jennifer.

   "You know, Bob...you're over forty, too," he said pointedly.

   "Oh shut up, Don," said Susan.  "Nobody's paying any attention to you."

   Don got a sour look on his face.  "Rodney Dangerfield had it right.  I
don't get NO respect."

   "Night, Daddy," said Jennifer sweetly.  "Night, Mommy."

   "Good night, sweetheart," said Susan.  "Remember what I told you."

   "I will," said the girl.  She led Bob out of the room.

   They'd been gone for three or four minutes when Don finally spoke.

   "Well, how bad is it?"

   "She's not stuttering anymore, darling.  I can't say that's a bad thing
at all."

   "You know what I mean," he said.

   "Don't ask questions you might not like the answers to," was her
response.  = In the parking lot Jennifer leaned into Bob and he put his arm
around her.

   "Can I drive again?" she asked.

   "I guess so," he said.

   "I want to feel your hands on me again."

   "I think you're turning into a nymphomaniac," said Bob, smiling.

   "Would you rather I stutter...or be a nymphomaniac?"

   Bob thought about it for a few seconds.  "Guess you got me there," he
admitted.

   He knew she was enjoying herself when she passed by the motel and kept
going while he fondled her breasts and rolled her stiff nipples between his
fingers.  All she did was go around a couple of blocks, though, before
parking in front of their room.  She turned the bike off, waited for him to
dismount, and then put the kickstand down.  She got off and rubbed her own
breasts with both hands.

   "I can't believe how horny you make me," she said, her voice throaty.

   Inside, he used the bathroom and, in anticipation of what might happen,
rubbed his genitals down with a washcloth.  When he left the bathroom she
was waiting for him on the bed, naked, on her hands and knees.  She had
been watching over her shoulder and, when he saw her, she waved her ass at
him.  She was a little awkward about it, but he laughed out of joy, not to
make fun of her.

   "Where is my little Jennifer...my princess?" he asked.  The effect was
ruined by the fact that he was as naked as she was.

   "She's around here somewhere," said the girl on the bed.  "Can we do it
this way?"

   "You've been watching movies again," he said, wagging his finger at her.

   "Just don't spank me again.  That hurt."

   "Why don't we work up to things," he suggested.  "Do some cuddling
first."

   "Because I can't wait to see if it feels as good this time as it did
last time," she said.

   "Part of the reason it felt so good last time was because we worked up
to it," he suggested.

   "You talk too much," she said, rolling over.  Her hand went between her
legs and she began moving it around industriously.

   "OK," he said amiably.  "I'll shut up.  Can I watch?"

   "You're supposed to help!" she panted.

   He walked to the bed and crawled up on it, putting his hands on the
bedspread between her knees, which she had spread as he approached.  He
stared at her fingers, dancing between her legs.

   "Are you really only going to watch?" she complained.

   "I'm checking out your technique," he said.  "Remember, you're a novice
at all this.  I might be able to teach you a thing or two."

   "Bob!" she complained.

   "Like this," he said.  He reached and lifted her hand.  She moaned in
frustration and then jumped as he fell to his elbows and forced his hands
under her butt.  He kissed her mons, where ash white hair fluffed.  Then he
slid his lips down and she gasped as he began eating her pussy with all the
skill he'd developed over twenty years.

   Only his strength kept her from twisting and rolling away from his lips
during the four orgasms she had before he let her rest.  Her cries were
music to his ears, though they were sometimes hard to hear because her
thighs were trying to crush his head.  He knew his beard was wet and
glistening with her juices and, not sure how she might react to that, took
the time to burrow his face into the bedspread before pulling his hands out
from under her and rising.

   "I think you're ready now," he said, grinning.  "Roll over, Lassie,
Rover has something for you."

   She was lying limply, totally relaxed after her wild ride.

   "I changed my mind," she said.  "I'm too tired to get up." She lifted
her head and stared at him with glittering eyes.  "On the other hand, I'm
quite sure I need another treatment...doctor," she said.

   He crawled up, aware that she was staring at his prick, which was fully
erect and dripping.  He stopped as he saw a drip fall off.

   "Shit," he grunted.  "I have condoms in the backpack."

   Her hands reached to grip his shoulders.

   "Next time," she said.  "Your stuff is already in me anyway."

   She kept watching as he fisted his prick and nosed the tip between her
slippery pussy lips.  He went slowly, pressing forward only enough to be
able to feel progress.  When the head popped in her she made a sound in her
throat.

   "You OK?" he asked, beginning to pant.

   Her legs came up until her heels were beside his knees.  She let her
knees fall outward, wiggling her butt, and then slapped his hips when her
knees came back up forcefully.  He was watching her face, and saw the tip
of her tongue protrude from gleaming white teeth.  Then he felt her move
and her heels dug into the bed as her abdominal muscles bunched, driving
her pussy up.  His prick was suddenly surrounded by hot pussy.

   "That's better," she groaned.  "Oh shit that feels good."

   "I can't believe you're cursing," he said, lowering his hips with hers
so he stayed fully inside her.  "My princess never cursed."

   "Shit, fuck, damn, hell," she panted.  "I don't want to be the princess
right now.  I want to be the queen.  Fuck me, Bob.  I love this!"

   Bob went to work on her then, sometimes holding himself up off of her so
he could take long, slow strokes, and sometimes collapsing on top of her,
pinning her to the bed so she was helpless as he made short, sharp humping
motions that only moved his prick in her a couple of inches, but which
crushed her clit in the process.

   She was loud, in both her appreciation and her release.  During her
first orgasm Bob thought she sounded like a singer, holding a high note. 
He almost laughed when, during her second he classified her reaction as
sounding like a cat fight.  He quit wasting brain power on that kind of
thing, though, and used it all to evaluate just how to make this a night
she would never forget.  Still, there was one time after that when she
sounded like a professional porn actress, gasping out that she was cumming
and moaning in time with his thrusts.

   She was chanting that she loved him, over and over again, when he pushed
in deep and flexed every muscle he could feel, associated with ejaculation,
reveling in the sweet pain of his own completion.

   She would later tell him she thought a bear had snuck into the room, as
she felt the hot spurts in her belly.  = In the aftermath, lying entangled
in each other's arms, Bob was almost dozing when he remembered something.

   "What was it that your mother wanted you to remember?" he asked.

   She jerked.  "I forgot!" She struggled up onto one elbow and leaned
against him.  She kissed him gently on the lips.

   "That's from her.  She told me to give you a kiss."

   "Why in the world would she do that?" he asked.

   "Because you made me happy, and you cured me, and because she's always
kind of wished she could kiss you just once."

   Bob gaped.  "Your mother wanted to kiss me?!"

   "She's always wondered what it would be like, kissing your hairy face,"
said Jennifer.

   "That's insane!" said Bob.

   "It's OK," said his lover.  "I told her all about it."

   "You told your mother what it was like to kiss me?"

   "Among other things," said Jennifer.

   "What other things?"

   "Everything, actually."

   Bob choked.  "Everything?!"

   "My mother and I have no secrets," said Jennifer.  "She wanted to know
what happened, and I told her."

   "I don't believe this," moaned Bob.  "I'll never be able to look her in
the eye again!"

   "That's silly," said the woman in his arms.  "She likes you."

   "Yeah, but...to think she knows EVERYTHING we did...I just don't know
what to think about that."

   "Don't think anything," Jennifer said, kissing him again.  "She
approves. Why do you think I was like that on the bed when you came out of
the bathroom?  It was her idea.  She says that's a really good way to make
love."

   Bob was quite sure he'd been transported, by some magical means, into an
alternate universe.  "You're teasing me!" he accused.

   "If you say so," she said, lying back down and snuggling into his
armpit. "Maybe tomorrow morning I can find out if she was right."

   "Ohhhh," moaned Bob.

   "I sure like the way you did it this time, though," she sighed.  "I'm
going to want to do it that way lots of times."

   Bob decided he was just going to be quiet for a while.  Eventually they
both drifted off to sleep.  = Most days of your life, when you wake up in
the morning, not much has really changed.  You have the same life you had
when you went to bed and, while you might have plans for the day, you
pretty much knew about what to expect when you went to sleep the night
before.

   There are exceptions, of course.  Say, for instance, you find out on
Monday that you won the lottery, but you can't go pick up the money until
Wednesday.  Of course waking up Monday was no big deal.  You didn't know
you were a millionaire.  Waking up Tuesday is going to be interesting. 
When you wake up Tuesday, there is the very real potential that you're
going to be rich.  Assuming you don't get hit by a bus that day or
something.  Tuesday will be a day full of very carefully made decisions. 
But waking up Wednesday is going to be completely different than any other
day of your life.  The whole world will seem different, Wednesday morning,
because of all the OTHER potentialities that go along with what changed in
your life on Monday.  Even after that money is in the bank, waking up each
day after that is going to be pretty much the same, in terms of what you
think of as a "normal" day.

   But that Wednesday morning, when you wake up not only knowing you're
rich, but knowing you're going to go GET that money...well...that's what
they call a red letter day.

   When Bob woke up the next morning, with one of Jennifer's arms and legs
thrown negligently across him, it was like that Wednesday morning.  It
wasn't that this had never happened before.  It had...both with Jennifer
and no few other women.  But prior to this day, his sexual relationship
with Jennifer had always been...potential.  And, prior to this day, he'd
resisted that potential.

   In short, Bob Jefferson had never awakened with a naked woman in his
arms and entertained the thought "This is my woman."

   He wasn't shocked by this train of thought.  Not then.  He would puzzle
on it later, wondering how it had happened, but on this morning the concept
had already soaked into his brain and the thing he marveled at was that he
was so lucky as to have HIS woman in bed with him.  She was still Jennifer.
She was still Don and Susan's daughter.  But there had been a paradigm
shift in the way Bob thought about her, and her relationship to him.

   And so, when he got out of bed to take care of his normal morning
ablutions, and returned to find her, again, on her hands and knees,
wiggling her naked butt at him, he simply accepted the change in his life
and made love to her.

   Her sighs as her lightly bruised buttocks jiggled each time he slammed
forward, and her whimpers of appreciation as he reached under her to pull
and twiddle her stiff nipples, became what he would think of as "normal"
from that day on.

   Only two errant thoughts disturbed the celebration of the change in his
life during that particular session of lovemaking with his woman.  The
first was a conviction he formed in his mind never to spank her hard enough
to bruise her bottom again.  The second, as his sperm laced semen jetted
into her receptive young womb, was that he was going to have to do
something about the fertility he was currently thumbing his nose at...so to
speak.

   Of course, to be fair, the changes in Jennifer's life need to be
acknowledged too.

   Imagine, if you will, all those candidates for Miss America, or Miss
Universe, waking up one morning and finding out that, suddenly, there
really IS world peace.  From their perspective the world...at long
last...is as it should be.

   Waking up that morning was a little like that for Jennifer Brazelton.

   At the risk of wearing out the analogy, let's just say that Jennifer
didn't even play the lottery.  The paradigm shift in HER life was more like
finding out a rich relative has suddenly gifted you with a lifestyle that
will let you exceed your wildest dreams.

   In this case, it was an "uncle" who changed her life in ways that, when
she woke up that day, resulted in a world she almost didn't recognize.  The
man she loved...loved her in the same way.  Her lifelong stutter had been
banished.  Her mother -- and she knew her dad would come around sooner or
later -- supported her newfound desires and celebrated the happiness that
was no longer potential, but very real.  When Jennifer woke up that
morning, the world was as it should be.

   And, for Jennifer Brazelton...that included the feel of her lover's hot
jets of sperm-laced semen spurting into her young, receptive womb.
   
