Chapter Eight

It's kind of hard on a guy when he thinks one thing is going to happen and something completely different takes place instead. When Jennifer suddenly got naked, Bob's defenses took a hit. When, in the sudden darkness, he was covered with squirming naked girl, his defenses sagged significantly.  As her lips mashed to his face, searching hungrily for HIS lips, his arm, upon which she was now lying, just naturally tightened, pulling her against him.

Then all that danger he'd been feeling washed back over him and the defenses he had left rallied.

"What are you doing?" he asked into the mouth of the girl who was trying to eat his lips.

"I l-l-love you," said the girl.

"We can't do this, Jennifer."

"Y-y-yes we can," she panted. 

Panic began to send red hot sparks into Bob's system.

"I'm not going to fuck you, Jennifer!"

"Ok-k-kay," she said, kissing his upper lip and then his lower lip.

"I mean it, Jen!" he said, not yet pushing her away.

"I s-s-said OK! K-k-kiss me, B-b-bob."

"No." he said. He began to think about how he was going to get her off him without touching certain parts of her anatomy.

Jennifer's hand slid down his chest and across his abdomen like some kind of racing snake. She found his rampant prick as if she'd done so hundreds of times and her fingers gripped it tightly. He winced, but not from pain. It was from the complete surprise at what she was doing.

"K-k-kiss me, Bob!" she said again. 

She didn't wait, but started raining kisses on any part of his lips she could find with her own.

"Oh baby," he groaned. "Don't do this."

She pulled her face away a few inches. The fires that raged in her demanded some kind of satisfaction. She didn't know what that was, but she knew she needed something important from this man, and he wasn't cooperating.

"Either k-k-kiss me or f-f-fuck me," she said intensely. "J-j-just D-D-DO s-s-something!" She ground her pussy on his thigh and he felt the slipperiness of her arousal making his skin wet.
==
Men are, by nature, problem solvers. A man sees a problem and he just naturally tries to think of some way to make the problem go away, or at least get better.  In the odd case, a man might retreat, if he knows he just isn't equipped to take action. But quite often a man will try to resolve an issue, even if he isn't really up to the task.  

In this case, Bob had lots of experience and no small amount of expertise in dealing with a horny woman. In his male mind, it occurred to him that if Jennifer had an orgasm, she'd calm down and he might be able to defuse the situation a bit. The alternative was to shove her away and get out of bed.  Even his male mind knew that she would view that as rejection and things would most likely then get very ugly.

What would you do in that situation?

He knew he couldn't fuck her, as compelling and delightful an idea as that was. You can't "undo" a fuck. But there are dozens of other ways to bring a woman to her own completion that aren't as final as fucking her.

And, to be honest, something in him craved hearing what she'd sound like in the throes of ecstasy that HE was creating in her.

So he kissed her.

When he began cooperating with his lips, her enthusiasm became more centered. Her lips felt alive under his, moving, nipping, searching for something.  He gave her his tongue and, instead of drawing back, she sucked at it and employed her own. She was a natural at kissing, and his dick felt like it might break off in her hand.

He realized that he needed to get this over with as soon as possible, because the urge to sink his prick into her buttery depths was getting harder and harder to resist.

To that end he slid a hand down her side to the hip that was slowly humping against his thigh. Breaking that weld wasn't easy. A lot of her energy was going into rubbing her pussy against his thigh.  But when she felt his hand trying to get between them she relaxed a little and he was able to slide his fingers into the swamp that was her sex.

Her leg lifted automatically as she rolled her lower body away from him.  He didn't work up to it. He knew she'd had her own fingers in her, and suspected her hymen was long gone. As he slid a thick middle finger between slick pussy lips he found he was right, and kept going until the base of his finger pressed her young clitty.

She gasped into his mouth and moaned as she was penetrated, most likely deeper than she'd ever been penetrated before. He curled his finger, in case she had a G-spot, and then simulated the motion of the clitty whizzer, shaking his hand in short, rapid, side to side strokes.

She went off like a firecracker, and her groan was music to his ears as her lips went slack and her mouth fell open. Her gasps were timed with the thrust of her breasts against his chest as she went mostly rigid in his arms, her groan escalating into a high pitched whine.

She'd cum so quickly that it surprised Bob, and he was afraid that just the one orgasm might not be enough. He pushed with the hand that was cupping her pussy, and she flopped onto her back as he rolled with her. Her left leg went wide, her knee bent.

He couldn't resist tasting the nipples that had so recently felt like hot coals burning into his side. While his lips searched for and found them, he stopped moving his hand. He left his finger imbedded in her, but just pressed gently on her clit as she gasped for air.

Then, when he thought she'd had enough time to recuperate from the first orgasm, he started stroking his finger in and out of her, raking the callused skin across her inflamed clit. She didn't have to learn the dance her hips began to do, thrusting up and then relaxing as she felt what it was like to have something thick and long sliding in and out of her sex. She was a natural at that, too. She just cooed and moaned and yipped with little catches of breath as she let the delicious feelings sweep through her.

She learned, almost instantly, how to regulate this feeling, too. She couldn't press her pussy against the vibrating seat right now, but she could tell him what to do.

"A l-little more!" she gasped, completely happy with what she was getting from this man she loved so much.

He let the nipple he was sucking on slip from between his lips.

"OK, baby," he breathed.  

It was surreal, for Bob, as he rested on one elbow beside her. He was as hard as he'd ever been in his life, but the urge to climb on top of her was more of a distant call than a driving force. SHE was what mattered right now. Her hand was STILL gripped tightly around his prick. Her body motions had had almost the same effect as if she was jacking him off, even though she was just holding on tightly. He already knew that when she was done, he'd get up, go to the bathroom, and spank the shit out of the monkey. That was perfectly all right. It wouldn't take long.  When he was done in the bathroom, the situation would have been defused and the danger avoided.

"Yes," she panted. "Oh yes!"

He increased the motion, going faster and then, when she arched, he pulled his finger out and used three fingertips to whip back and forth across her clit as she gave an agonized groan of completion. Her heels came up and went hard into the mattress as she lifted her butt eight inches off the surface, her right knee slamming into the front of Bob's thigh.  The high pitched keening wail came again and she fell limply back to the bed. Her hand finally released his prick and he leaned forward to kiss the upper swell of her right breast.

He rolled away from her, and she gasped, "Don't go!"

"I have to go to the bathroom," he said softly.

"C-come back!" she panted.

"I will," he assured her.

He started jacking his meat while he stumbled across the darkened room. Instead of turning a light on and ruining his night vision, he simply stroked until it was time and then sat down hard on the john, bending his prick downward to spurt into the bowl as he milked it. It seemed to keep drooling spunk forever, and he heard his own rasping pant in his ears.  There was a strong urge to lean back and just stay there, but he knew that would be uncomfortable.

When he went back into the main room he could see her, still lying there, knees bent and thrown wide. Her eyes were closed and her hands were lying by her sides.  He could still hear the whisper of air between her lips as she dragged in deep breaths. As he approached the bed her legs straightened slowly. He got carefully onto the bed, aware that, as he walked, another drip had started through his now soft cock and might be about to fall from the tip.

"Better?" he whispered.

"Ohhhh yes," she sighed.

"You really should go back to your room now," he said.

Her head rolled toward him.

"H-hold m-me," she commanded. 

"For a little bit," he negotiated.

He couldn't believe how good she felt in his arms, pressed against him, her breath hot on his shoulder. She snuggled against him, but when she laid a leg on top of his, she didn't press her pussy against him.

"I love you," she sighed.

"I love you, too, baby." His words came out in a sigh as well.

"Th-thank you."

He didn't say anything.  He knew, somehow, that she wasn't going to get up and go back to her room.  He knew that she'd want to stay. He worried a little about that.  He worried a little about what might happen later.

But what worried him more than anything was that he wanted her to stay, too.
==
He didn't wake up in the night, or have a dream and roll over and ravish Jennifer. And she slept dreamlessly as well. He hadn't set the alarm, so it was left to them to wake whenever their bodies told them to. As it happened, she woke first.

When consciousness came to her, Jennifer knew exactly where she was, and her memory of the previous night was both immediate and vivid.  Only the back of her hand was touching Bob. She was on her stomach, lying more or less straight, as she usually slept. She didn't spread out in a bed and, while Bob did, the king sized bed in the motel was large enough that he'd been able to do that without trespassing on "her" side of the bed.

Jennifer's first thoughts about what had happened were to do a silent physical evaluation of her body. She expected to feel different, and was mildly surprised when she didn't. Then she reflected on the intangibles. How did she feel about what had happened? Had this changed the way she thought about Bob? Should she feel guilty?

In rapid succession, her mind provided answers to the questions. 

She felt great. The only difference in the way she felt about Bob was that she wanted more of the same from him. She did not feel guilty, and it really didn't matter if someone thought she should, because she knew she'd never feel guilty about it.

That led to her trying to remember how everything had felt. She had less success there, because all she could remember was a huge glowing ball of happiness that she'd been suspended in, floating, while she let the delicious feelings sweep her to a place she'd never been before. She couldn't remember much about that place, except that she wanted to go there again. It was much easier to remember the orgasms she'd had on the bike, or with her own fingers. Even though she couldn't remember the details of the orgasm Bob had given her, she was sure that it was like comparing beef jerky to prime rib. Both were good, in their own ways, but if given the choice, she'd go for the prime rib every time.

She opened her eyes. The room was dim, but the sun was obviously up. She was facing away from Bob, and she lifted and turned so she could look at him. She saw that he was lying on his back, his arms outstretched. Her hand was touching his forearm. 

She looked at his shoulder, round and full looking, with thick muscle under the skin. She felt that ball of heat fill her belly again. She DID remember some of the kissing and the zings of pleasure as his lips tugged and sucked at her nipples. That had been simply amazing. She'd never thought that having her nipples sucked could feel that wonderful. She felt the urge to wake him up so he could do it again.

But she remembered quite clearly how hard he had tried NOT to do those things to her. She understood, on an academic level, why he was resisting. She had no idea what her parents would actually say if they knew what had happened, but she knew he thought they'd be angry. That puzzled her, because they had always tried hard to help her be as happy as she could be. She could not know that most parents told their daughters over and over not to engage in sexual behavior during their teen years. The results of her half dozen dates were clear to her parents.  She never told them about slapping the two boys who tried to grope her, and nobody ever asked her out twice, so they had no reason to worry about her innocence.

And all the girls her age had boyfriends, and did things like she and Bob had done last night. In her opinion, all that had happened was what she had wanted to happen, even if she hadn't known what was GOING to happen, initially.

Still, she knew he might be feeling some guilt, and waking him up the way she felt like waking him up might not work out the way she wanted it to.  She thought about what to do. She could just get out of bed, go take care of morning chores and get dressed. Then it occurred to her that he might just sleep through all that, which would have HER dressed, while HE was still naked.  That might not work either. 

In the end, she decided to do a mix of what she wanted to do and what she thought might make the situation a little less stressful. At least she hoped it would be less stressful for him.

She needed some information first, though. She got it by lifting the sheet that was draped across the lower half of both their bodies. She looked at his penis for the second time and was delighted to see that it was hard, just like last time.  That was what she'd been hoping for. She knew it didn't stay hard all the time, but it had been hard before, in the morning, and she'd been hoping it would be hard now, too.

She looked at it for a few seconds, drinking in what she'd had such a short view of the night before. It really did look impossibly large, considering what it was made for. But she knew penises like this had been doing what they were made for for millions of years, so she just accepted that it was normal. 

He moved in his sleep, turning his head. She didn't want him to wake up and find her staring at his penis, so she let the sheet drop slowly back down to cover him.  Then, moving quickly, she got up on her elbow so she could slide over his arm. Pressing her breasts into his side, she leaned forward to kiss his cheek and, at the same time, reached with her left hand for that stiff prick. She squeezed it as her lips touched the fuzzy fur that covered his cheek.

"W-w-wake up, sleep-p-pyhead!" she said in her normal voice. "I'm s-s-starving!"

Then, as she saw his eyes open, she let go of his penis and rolled backwards to stand, naked, beside the bed.

"W-w-we have to g-g-go ch-ch-check on M-m-mommy and D-d-daddy, t-t-too! C-c-come on!"

She whipped the sheet off of him and then ignored him completely, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for them to wake up naked in the same room. She was trying as hard as she could to convince him that very little had changed between them. And if she could convince him that being naked together was no big deal, maybe he wouldn't resist so much the next time she felt like being naked with him.

She moved toward the connecting door, since her clothes were in the other room. She stopped in the still open doorway and looked back at him.

"Are y-y-you up?" she asked, trying to sound impatient. "D-d-don't you d-d-dare go b-b-back t-t-to sleep!"

"I'm up!" he said. His voice didn't sound like he'd just been awakened. 

"G-g-give me t-t-ten m-m-minutes," she said.
==
While Jennifer was standing under hot water in the shower, wondering if her plan had worked, Bob was, in fact, reflecting on her actions. He'd awakened when her breathing had changed from the slow measured breaths of slumber to the quicker ones of a person awake. He didn't know that's why he'd become awake, but his senses were so finally tuned that it was just normal for him to evaluate things quickly.  He sensed she was awake.

Like Jennifer, the memory of what had taken place last night came next to his mind. When she raised the sheet, he knew what she was doing even though his eyes were still closed. His heartbeat quickened and he moved his head intentionally. He had just had the time to worry about what was going to happen next when she moved toward him. His fear of having to fend her off had just begun forming in his mind when he felt the kiss and the squeeze she gave his morning wood. 

The fact that she'd then immediately rolled away from him, telling him to get up, was unexpected and gave him pause for a few seconds. She sounded normal, and when he rolled his head to look at her, she looked as normal as it was possible for her to look, when stark naked.

He couldn't help but let his eyes slither over her body. She really was a beautiful woman. She looked neither self conscious in her nudity nor contrived in her pose. Her voice was obviously trying to create the atmosphere that everything was fine...no different than any other day. Her nipples were erect, though, and Bob knew that things WERE different this morning. There was no way they could be anything BUT different.

Still, she was trying to act like it wasn't, and that alone spoke volumes to him. She wasn't embarrassed. She wasn't unsure. What had happened between them didn't bother her.  He was still convinced that this intimacy between them was a mistake, but it was impossible for him to believe, in those few seconds, that he'd done anything to hurt her.

When she disappeared into her own room, he got up. There would be time to deal with the ramifications of their new relationship later. Right now the easiest thing to do was act like she was...to act like what had happened was no big deal. He could talk to her again later and try to get her head straight.  What had happened might even help with that. She had to understand now how serious this sexual play could get.

In his own bathroom, he became aware that her nudity had affected him more than he’d thought. When he drained the lizard, it refused to soften.  He took care of that in the shower, milking another load out of his balls.  He dried off, brushed his teeth, put on his socks and jeans, and pulled his boots on. She still hadn’t returned when he was fully dressed. Instead of going to her room to wait, which might involve her being naked again, he turned on the TV to try to find a weather report.  They'd been lucky to have dry weather, but if that luck didn't hold, they'd need rain gear. He frowned, thinking of trying to cram rain gear for two into the "luggage" that was already straining at the seams.

He looked at his watch and saw it was nine in the morning. He was a little amazed he'd slept that long.  He found the weather channel and had just seen the string of happy, smiling suns stretched out over the next seven days, when she came in and sat on the end of the bed beside him.

"R-r-ready," she said simply.

Silently reminding himself to act normal, he punched the button on the remote and stood up.

"What are you hungry for?" he asked.

"F-f-food," she said. 

He hazarded a glance at her face and saw an impish smile. It was SO clear that there was nothing wrong, as far as she was concerned, that it made his groin try to tighten again. 
==
Breakfast, during which there was the slightest of strain between them, went quietly and quickly.  Back on the bike she asked him to stop at a bookstore in a mall they'd passed.

"C-c-can I g-g-get a b-b-book to r-r-read to M-m-mommy?" she asked, when he had parked and turned the engine off.

"Sure," he said, knowing she meant she'd have to use his credit card. "You can have anything you want."

"R-r-really."  It wasn't a question, and the tone of voice it was delivered in, despite the stutter, was pure seductress. It was the first indication she gave that what had happened was not only fine with her, but not over yet. Then, like she'd done after squeezing his erection, she just climbed off the bike and started toward the entrance to the bookstore, leaving him behind, for all intents and purposes.

He caught up with her as she asked the clerk, "D-d-do you have an-n-nything by C-c-christopher M-m-moore?"

The clerk ignored the stutter and keyed things into the computer.

"Aisle twelve," she said, giving Bob the once over.

Bob followed and watched, interestedly as she scanned the books and immediately pulled one down that had a baby buggy on the cover. He saw the title was "A Dirty Job." She turned and almost ran into him, obviously finished.

"Why that one?" he asked out of curiosity.

"She h-h-has the o-o-others," said Jennifer.

"Oh," said Bob, feeling stupid, somehow. "OK."

Their purchase made, they went straight to the hospital.

He felt that little squeeze twice on the way that he now knew meant she was taking full advantage of the clitty whizzer.