Chapter 2

It was almost ten when we reconvened. She was still wearing the robe, which was fastened only loosely. That disturbing cleavage was peeking at me a lot. I wondered, briefly, if this was a product of how she’d teased me so much she was used to me seeing her body like this.

I had done some thinking. The main thing that needed to happen was for her to learn how to control her own libido. I knew I couldn’t get her to stop having sex, but I hoped I could teach her how to pick and choose her partners more carefully.

“Tell me more about this teacher,” I said.

She groaned.

“Why?”

“Because you need to learn some things you obviously haven’t thought about,” I said.

“And you’re going to teach me?” she said, obstinately.

“I guess we could tell everything to your mother and she could do the teaching,” I said.

That got her settled down.

“What do you want to know?” she asked, finally.

“I want you to tell me what he did,” I said.

“He popped my cherry,” she said, sullenly.

“I want details,” I said.

“You really are a pervert,” she said, snarkily.

“Okay, the first thing we need to do is adjust your attitude,” I said. “I think you do need to be spanked.” Somehow my vow not to be like my father had been negated.

“By you and what army?” she challenged.

“You have two choices,” I said. “You either submit to my discipline or we call your mother and tell her what happened,” I said.

“That’s blackmail!” she yipped.

“Call it whatever you want,” I said. “You want to be all grown up. There are consequences to your actions and now you have to make a decision because of those actions. Make your choice.”

She stared at me for a long time but slowly, she crumpled.

“You’re really going to spank me?”

“On your bare bottom,” I said.

“You are a pervert!” she blurted.

“Did he spank you first?” I asked. It was obvious who I was referring to.

“Of course not,” she said.

“Come over here and take your punishment,” I ordered. I patted my thighs. “Or call your mother. Take your pick.”

She stood and came towards me, slowly.

“I don’t believe this,” she whined, as I pulled her down across my lap.

I lifted the robe until her beautiful ass was exposed. The way she was lying gave me a view of her split peach pussy lips and I felt blood rush into my cock.

Maybe she was right. Maybe I really was a pervert.

“Now,” I said, resting my hand lightly on one cheek. She flinched. “Tell me what this guy did to you.”

“Just beat my ass and get it over with,” she grunted.

I slapped one ass cheek - hard. She yelped and squirmed.

“Tell me!” I ordered.

“He said I needed a massage to help me with sore muscles!” she yipped.

I slapped her other cheek, a little less hard.

“Go on,” I said.

“I’d heard of his massages and I was curious. He was hot. All the mothers fawned over him,” said Beth.

I slapped the original cheek gently.

“Keep going,” I said.

“He said I had to be naked for the massage. He touched me all over.”

I slapped the other cheek, but not hard.

“I got excited,” she moaned. “He put a finger in me and told me I was beautiful.”

“Okay,” I said. I was rubbing her ass, now, where I could see my handprint.

“Then he put it in me and he fucked me until I thought my head would explode,” she cried.

“How many times did he do this to you?” I asked.

“Just once more. Then he got caught.”

“Did you have an orgasm each time?” I asked.

“Yesss,” she sobbed.

“And the boys you’ve done it with since then. Did they give you orgasms, too?”

“Noooo,” she sniffed. “They’re all assholes.”

“So why do you want to have sex with assholes?” I asked. My hand slipped between her legs.

“Why do you have a hardon?” she asked, straining to look over her shoulder at me.

“Because I’m a normal man,” I answered. “You do the same thing to me that you did to him and all those boys.”

“There were only two boys,” she whined. “And Chuck,” she added.

“And none of them treated you right,” I said. “That should have taught you something. Boys your age have no idea how to treat a woman.”

“I knoooow,” she moaned as the side of my fingers grazed her pussy. She spread her legs. Then she looked over her shoulder at me again. “You do have a hardon, Uncle Bob!”

“I know I do. You’re a little hottie,” I said. “I fully understand why boys and men want to fuck your pretty little pussy. What you need to learn is how to choose who to let fuck you and who to tell to fuck off.”

“Do you want to fuck me?” she whimpered.

“Of course I do,” I said, pushing my fingers into her split. “You’ve been teasing me ever since I got here. I bet you teased Chuck last night, too. Didn’t you?”

“Let me up,” she said, starting to struggle.

“We’re not finished, here,” I said.

“I know that. Just let me up. I won’t go anywhere. I promise.”

I let her roll off my lap and she thumped onto the floor. She got up and, to my surprise, sat on my lap and leaned against me.

“I get so horny,” she moaned.

“That’s normal, but there are better ways to deal with it than having sex with strangers,” I said.

My hand was on her thigh, on top of the robe. She lifted it, pushed the robe aside and then put my hand down on her bare thigh. I wondered what that meant, but didn’t have time to think about it.

“I had a dildo, but Mom found it and threw it away,” she said.

“Did she talk to you about it?”

“No. She just said it was nasty and threw it in the trash.”

“She’s worried about you,” I said.

“Yeah, right.”

“She was a little round-heels like you when she was your age. She knows what can happen to a girl.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“Your mother had sex with lots of boys when she was your age,” I said. “It almost got her in trouble. She got pregnant, but had a miscarriage.”

“No way,” said Beth. “My mother?”

“She learned her lesson the hard way,” I said.

“Why wouldn’t she talk to me about that, then?”

“Because she’s embarrassed about it,” I said. “She doesn’t like to admit she was a slut.”

“I’m not a slut!” she objected.

I slid my hand up her thigh and pressed the side of my fingers between her dewy folds.

“You let me do this when you were over my lap,” I said.

“That was different,” she said, making no move to get away from my fingers. “I couldn’t stop you.”

“You’re not stopping me now,” I pointed out. I pushed one fingertip into her hot channel.

“I know that,” she said. I heard just the hint of obstinacy in her voice, tinged with passion.

“Why not?” I asked, moving my finger deeper and searching for her G spot. She spread her legs a little.

“I don’t know,” she moaned. “Because I like you?”

“You like a pervert?” I said. I felt the rough patch I was searching for and stroked it.

She groaned, and spread her legs further.

“You like that,” I said, tickling her passion spot.

“Why are you doing this?” she said, beginning to pant.

“Because you make me want to be a man,” I said. “Just like you wanted Chuck to be a man last night.”

“He left me high and dry,” she breathed.

“I wouldn’t do that,” I said. “That’s my point. If you’re going to be sexual, you need to be more choosey about the boys ... or men ... you let touch you.”

“I’m not letting you touch me,” she argued.

“Of course you are. You could push my hand away. You just don’t want to.”

“I don’t like you very much right now,” she panted.

“How about we give you a little orgasm to take the edge off so you can think more clearly?” I suggested.

She sat ... and wiggled, as I continued to stimulate her pussy.

“You just want to fuck me,” she gasped. “You’re just like Mr. Carson.”

“Is he the man who robbed you of your virginity?”

“He didn’t rob me. I wanted what he did.”

“He was just using you,” I said.

“I knew that. I knew he didn’t love me. But I wanted to know what it felt like. I let him do that.”

“Did he ask you?”

“No. He just got me excited and then put it in me.”

“Like I’m getting you excited right now?” I said.

“Just like you’re doing,” she gasped.

“The difference is I won’t use you,” I said.

Her head jerked around and she stared into my eyes.

“You won’t?” I heard frustration in her voice. She wanted it bad, now and she expected me to react like Carson and her boyfriends had.

“I’ll give you an orgasm,” I said, softly. “I won’t do any more than that unless I’m sure it’s the right thing to do.”

“Well, do something, because you’re killing me,” she whined.

“Oh, Sweetheart, I’m nowhere near killing you,” I said. “Not yet.”

She was lying on my bed, now. The robe was gone and her nakedness caused her confusion. I could see her looking at my face, searching for what she’d seen before on other men’s faces. At the same time she was vulnerable, defenseless as I stared down at her. I think what made it almost comfortable for her was that I was still dressed.

“Maybe two orgasms,” I mused, as I got on the bed beside her. “Did Carson kiss you?”

“No. He just fucked me.”

“He was a rat bastard and deserves what he got,” I said.

“You’re doing the same thing,” her argumentative side tossed out.

“I’m not,” I said. “I’m not going to fuck you. I’m going to make love to you.”

“I don’t understand,” she whined. Her hand moved to her pussy and a finger split her folds.

“Don’t do that!” I snapped. Her hand jerked away and she looked alarmed.

I rolled her towards me, onto her side.

“That’s my job,” I said.

Then I kissed her. I didn’t hold back. I let my own passion flow through my lips to hers. She tensed, and then relaxed as she returned the kiss. I held it for maybe fifteen seconds and then pulled back.

“That was weird,” she said. “I’ve never kissed a grown man.”

“Was it unpleasant?”

“No.”

“Then let’s do some more of that,” I said.

This time she kissed me back. In the middle of that I slid my hand between her legs and she cocked a knee, spreading her legs to give me room. I slid my middle finger in her, over her G spot to her cervix, and rimmed it with my fingertip. She arched and groaned. I crushed her clit with the base of my finger and moved it an inch, back and forth, fingerfucking her, but with short strokes. She was primed and went off within a minute. I pulled my lips back to watch as her face scrunched up and her eyes glazed over. She groaned and held her breath, only to let it out explosively, draw in deeply, and hold it again.

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