Chapter 6

I realized I was staring down at her while she stared back up at me. The phone was in my hand, but not aimed at her.

“I feel so naked,” she whispered.

“That could be because you are so naked,” I said.

“Nobody’s ever seen me like this,” she said. “Not even my girlfriends.”

“Locker room?” I suggested.

“We wear towels. Nobody walks around flaunting it.”

“Sleepovers?” I suggested.

“The girls I know don’t have naked pillow fights,” she said.

“That’s too bad. You should start doing that. Naturally, I, as your official photographer, will have to document them.”

“Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

“I love it when you look at me that way.”

“I’m kind of fond of getting to,” I said.

“Take a picture,” she whispered.

“With you like that? I can see everything.”

“I know.”

“You have no idea how that makes me feel,” I said.

“I’m feeling a little strange, too,” she responded. “Take a picture.”

I took a picture of her lying there, naked, her head resting on a pile of golden hair. Her breasts were flattened a little under their own weight and that dot of hair on her mons made it look like someone’s crazy idea of an upside down exclamation point, the line being her pussy lips.

“Do you want to take more?” she asked.

“If you let me, I’ll still be taking them when it’s breakfast time,” I said.

She sat up and hung her lower legs off the edge of the bed. She put her hands beside her hips. Her knees were pressed firmly together. She tossed her head and her hair flipped to fall over one shoulder.

“How’s this?”

“Beautiful,” I said. “I’m beginning to think it would be impossible to take a bad picture of you.”

She smiled.

Then she spread her knees apart.

“How’s this?“ she whispered.

“What are you doing?” I groaned.

“Having fun,” she said.

“You do realize this is having an effect on me,” I said.

“I sure hope it is,” she replied.

“What, exactly do you want?”

“I want to be able to do whatever I feel like doing and not have to worry about it.”

“It sounds like you’ve wanted to do something like this before,” I said.

“I’m a normal girl, Bobby. I’ve wanted to do lots of things on dates. I just refused to give in.”

“I’m glad about that,” I said.

“You want me all to yourself?”

“I guess I do. Is that weird?”

“Not to me. It feels ... free ... like I know everything will be fine. This is exciting, Bobby.”

“It affects me, too,” I whispered.

She leaned back, supporting herself on stiff arms. It thrust her chest out.

“Do you have a boner, Bobby?”

I slept in a pair of running shorts and they did very little to confine my erection. I looked down and realized I’d been hard for a while, now. The front of my shorts protruded obscenely.

“You know I do.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling. “I do.”

“And that makes you ... happy?”

She sat back up.

“I don’t know if you can understand this, but your boner is the only one I can look at and know it’s okay, that nothing bad is going to happen, that you think I’m pretty but won’t do anything to make me feel threatened.”

“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t understand that. You know what a hardon means, Hannah.”

“Yes I do. But this is different somehow.”

“That’s the part I don’t get,” I said.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“I’ve been out with lots of guys and I know some of them got that way, usually while we were making out. Steve got that way all the time. So what do guys do when a girl won’t let them ... you know.”

“You’re asking how a guy gets rid of a boner,” I said.

“Yes.”

“I think you know, Hannah.”

She looked at me and spread her legs a little further. It didn’t look intentional, more like she was trying to get more comfortable.

“I want to know what you’re going to do about it,” she said. Her voice was low, kind of husky.

“I’m going to do the same thing all those other guys did when they got home,” I said.

“Tell me.”

“What’s going on here, Hannah?” I asked. The phone was forgotten. Taking pictures was forgotten.

“I’m so horny, Bobby,” she whispered. “I was horny a lot after going out with Steve.” She frowned. Even a frowning Hannah was gorgeous, at least when she was naked. “Unless he pushed me too hard,” she amended. “I couldn’t do anything about it while I was out with him ... but I could take care of it when I got home.”

“He did the same thing,” I said. “Unless he’s got a girl on the side who will let him do things.”

“He doesn’t have a sister,” said Hannah.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I wish we’d been able to be like this a long time ago. It means I could have...” She stopped. I could see her chest get pink and watched it move upwards into her jaw and cheeks.

I sensed she’d stopped because she was embarrassed about what she’d almost said. I wish she’d finished, because her last sentence could have been finished in a dozen ways. It didn’t really matter, though, because any one of them would be great. In a fantasy way, I mean.

“What did you do when you got home?” I asked.

“To not be horny?”

“Yes.”

“I think you know, Bobby,” she said, using my own line on me.

“Wow,” I sighed.

“Does that make you excited?”

“Of course,” I said. “I mean I’m used to thinking about me doing that, but before this I don’t think I’d have been able to envision you doing that.”

“I’m normal. Most girls do it.”

“Most guys do it, too,” I said.

“And that’s the point,” she said. “I’d love to have been able to do that on a date ... but that’s a big no no.”

“That’s not what most guys have in mind,” I said.

“No, it’s not. And that’s not fair. If it’s good enough when they get home, why isn’t it enough while you’re on a date?”

“You want to masturbate while you’re on a date?” My voice went into a higher octave.

“Why not? It’s fun. It relieves the pressure. If you get horny you could take care of that in a safe way and then go on having fun.”

“That’s crazy, Hannah,” I said. “Nobody would want to do that.”

“I wanted to. Lots of times. But I couldn’t, because, like you said, the guy would think it was crazy.”

“Oh, most guys would love it if you said you wanted to Jill off on a date,” I said. “But that’s too dangerous.”

“My point exactly,” she said. “It’s fine for when you get home, but not on the date. That’s not fair.”

“Maybe not,” I said, “but don’t expect it to change anytime soon.”

“Maybe it’s already changed,” she said.

I blinked, confused.

“This isn’t a date, exactly,” she said. “But if we get horny there’s no reason to wait until we get home.”

“We are home,” I pointed out.

“I meant to our rooms.”

I finally got it.

“You want to do it now ... here,” I said.

“I’m sooo horny, Bobby. When you look at me it makes me feel powerful, pretty, confident. It makes me horny! And I know it would be amazing if I could just do what I feel like doing right now.”

“Wow,” I said. This was hard to believe. I knew she’d gotten excited in the past while I was taking pictures of her. We’d talked about that. But this was light years beyond teasing each other and getting turned on.

“Do you think I’m a slut, now?“ she asked.

“No.” It was automatic. “I could never think of you as a slut.”

“Not even if I did this?”

She leaned back again, but only on her left arm this time. Her right hand came off the bed and went between her legs. I watched in awe as her index finger started going in a circle right where my internet education said her clitoris was. Then she blew me away completely by sliding that finger between her wrinkled pussy lips ... and into her pussy.

Her groan made something soothing leak through my prick.

“Ohhh, Bobby,” she moaned. “I am such a slut.”

“A slut would do this with anybody. Have you done this with any other person until tonight?”