Chapter 4

It turned out there really was a “Mamma”. She introduced herself that way and led us to one of ten tables in the place. The menus were already on the table. It was only 4:00, so only two other tables were occupied. Beth sat down and pored over the menu. It was comfort food, which surprised me. I thought comfort food had been outlawed in California. California seemed to want to outlaw anything that was fun or delicious, or involved freedom of choice.

Beth ordered meatloaf and I opted for chicken fried chicken, which has always seemed like an odd title for any kind of food. “Mamma” went toward her kitchen, which was visible through an open area behind what looked like a full service bar. There were other people in there, doing the cooking. It might be Mamma’s kitchen, but she wasn’t doing the cooking.

“So what are we going to do?” asked Beth, once Mamma had brought us our drinks and left to tend the door.

“We seem to be in a pickle of sorts,” I said.

“What are your options?” she asked. She emphasized “options.”

“Nice,” I said, grinning at her. Then I wiped the grin off my face. “Part of my thinking on that is that your mother left instructions that limit my options.” I emphasized the word, too.

“So you’re going to babysit me,” she muttered.

“We both know you’re not a baby,” I said, “so don’t get snarky. But I also have to make sure you don’t get into trouble. It would help a great deal if you chose to behave.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I’m not sure I know how to behave.”

“Well, for one thing, no more sneaking out and getting drunk,” I said.

“Okay. You’re more fun than any of the parties I ever went to, so that shouldn’t be hard.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to have fun with me, either,” I said. “Not that kind of fun, anyway.”

“Well, that ship has sailed, don’t you think?” She didn’t sound snarky this time.

Mamma brought us our food. My stomach grumbled and I realized all I’d had that day was a grilled cheese sandwich.

The food was good, which meant suspending the conversation was easy. Half an hour later I paid, leaving a ten dollar tip.

Back in the car she said, “Let’s go home.”

“And then?” Don’t ask me why I posed that question.

“And then we’re going to examine our options,” she said, smugly.

“You want to watch something on TV?” I asked, once we got into the house. “A movie, maybe?”

“No. I want to keep talking,” she said.

It turned out she wanted to sit on my lap on the couch while we talked.

“Why?” I asked her.

“I like sitting on your lap,” she said. “It’s lumpy in a fun kind of way.”

“You’re choosing to do that?” I emphasized “choosing.”

“I am,” she said. “If you’re my babysitter, then I get to act like a little girl and sit on your lap.”

“Your choice has nothing to do with being a little girl,” I pointed out.

“I know,” she said, grinning.

Once positioned, she leaned against me and sighed.

“I never thought having you here would be like this,” she said.

“Trust me, I never thought being here would be like this,” I replied.

“Why do I get so horny?” she asked, in a little girl voice.

“I think it’s called puberty,” I said.

“Do you think I got it from my mother?”

“I still think it’s called puberty,” I said, not willing to admit that I’d had the same thoughts.

“Well, whatever it’s called, I need to figure out what to do about it,” she said.

“You opened Pandora’s box,” I said. “You can’t close it again. You just need to make better decisions on how to deal with the feelings.”

“I did pretty well before Mom found my dildo and threw it away,” she said.

“Then maybe we should get you another dildo, and this time you’ll know to hide it better.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

“I’m not going to go buy you a dildo, Beth,” I said.

“I can’t go in the store by myself,” she said. “They’d card me and make me leave.”

“I’m imagining your mother, asking me why I thought it was a great idea to take you to an adult emporium,” I said. “She’s not real happy in my imagination.”

“We could order one online,” suggested Beth. “We have Amazon Prime and can get two day delivery.”

“Have you ever shopped on Amazon?” I asked.

“Of course. All the time.”

“And what appears at the bottom of the screen when you surf there?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Get up. Let’s go find out.”

She got off my lap and she got her laptop. She signed in and was about to type in “dildo” when I stopped her.

“Hold on a second, before you do that,” I said. “Put in something else for now. Try blue tooth speakers.”

“I already have blue tooth speakers,” she said.

“Humor me,” I said.

She did and a range of options came up.

“Now scroll down to the bottom of the page,” I said.

There, for all the world to see, were all the things the whole family using this Amazon account had searched for. I pointed out the “Buy it again” section which did, indeed, have the blue tooth speaker she’d purchased in the past. It also had some interesting stuff her parents had searched for or bought. Like fuzzy dice. There hadn’t been a pair hanging on the rear view mirror of the Mustang, and Paul didn’t seem like a fuzzy dice kind of guy, so it made me wonder.

“Do you want your parents to see a big, fat dildo listed there in the future?” I asked.

She paled, visibly.

“Uh ... no,” she said.

“Now you will always think about what might appear there, should your parents ever glance at what you’ve been viewing,” I said.

“Crap,” she said, as she went lower and extremely racy bikinis and see-through panties were displayed.

“How about we use my Amazon account,” I suggested.

“I’m glad they asked you to stay with me,” she said. “I’m learning more and more.”

I logged into Amazon on my account and entered the world of adult toys. I knew they existed, but I had no idea there were literally hundreds of brands, models, and designs. It was bewildering.

Beth, though, had an idea of what she wanted. As usual, she was all in, once she’d made a decision.

“That one!” she said, pointing at a purple monstrosity that was rechargeable and blue tooth remote controlled, of all things.

“Have you examined all your options?” I teased.

“My parents would be old and gray before I examined all my options,” she said. “That one.” She pointed again.

I thought it was outrageously expensive, but my burgeoning parenting skills said it would help, so I put it in my cart. I’m set up for one click buying, but that would send it to my house and we wanted another destination. When we got there she asked if I’d pop for next day delivery.

“Anxious, are we?” I said, looking at her sideways.

“Horny,” she said. “Until it gets here, I only have you to play with. It’s up to you. Do I play with you for one day or two? It could be delayed and I might need something for three days.”

I clicked on next day delivery.

That’s because I knew how close to the ragged edge I was with this woman/child.

I only had to make it through twenty-four hours, right? Maybe even less, if things worked out. I mean it was about 8 PM when I ordered the “Purple People Eater”, as I named it in my mind. So, this being California, where people didn’t tolerate tardy deliveries of their important shit, there would be a happy, perky UPS or FedEx driver at our doorstep the next day, probably by noon, or two PM at the latest.

So I only had to get her through one night and then she could surrender to puberty and just wear her young pussy out with an electric penis that couldn’t get her pregnant. And, in the meantime, I could jerk off a couple of times. Easy peasy. No sweat. Nada problemo, or whatever our Hispanic friends say.

We’d had supper, so when we got finished ordering the purple people eater I yawned theatrically and said I was going to bed.

“I’m going to take a shower,” she said.

That was good, because that would give me time to deal with my own real, live purple people eater and be able to sleep.

I detoured to lock the doors and make sure the windows were closed. I don’t know about the natives, but where I come from you don’t invite burglars in. Once that was done I checked my email quickly, just to make sure there were no fires that needed putting out. Then I went to my room.

I was, in fact, preparing to play tug of war with the Cyclops, standing in front of the full length mirror in my sister’s bedroom, admiring my relatively buff naked form, when Beth opened the door and sauntered in without knocking.

She was equally naked, and she looked a hell of a lot better than I did.

I’d been thinking about her, in preparation for burping the worm, so I was as stiff as stiff can be.

“Oh good,” said Beth, almost conversationally. “You’re hard. I want to suck it again.”

To show how something can change shape drastically after suffering what seem to be small, incremental modifications, Beth stood there without a stitch on and displayed no reticence or embarrassment whatsoever. The girl who had tried to hide her pussy and breasts from me as I sobered her up, now paraded around, happily nude. Plus she was on friendly terms with my penis, happy to see it, even.

“Your toy will get here tomorrow,” I said, feeling my cock leak a little bit at her mention of fellatio.

“And I will use it tomorrow, assuming it arrives fully charged.” She frowned. “In my experience, rechargeable electronic devices have to be put on the charger for a while before they can be used. It might be Wednesday before I can actually play with it.” She walked toward me, like a lioness approaching her prey. “Not to mention that while my toy may help me stop being so horny all the time, it will not produce a yummy Uncle Bob protein shake for me to drink down.”

“Did I mention this is getting out of control?” I said, as my penis jerked.

“You did,” she said. “I don’t care.”

“Did I mention I wanted to spurt in you and make you very pregnant?”

“You did, but we decided not to do that,” she said.

She was now standing close enough to me that I could feel her body heat. I could also smell the shampoo she’d used on her hair.

“I had sex ed in school,” she breathed. “If I swallow your cum then it can’t get anywhere near my eggs.”

Just her use of the word “eggs” made the contents of my scrotum want desperately to find one and I actually felt myself give in. Maybe felt is the wrong word. It was more like I had split into two forms of myself, one that dispassionately watched the other succumb to her wiles. I suddenly had a feeling that Chuck had been stalked, rather than the other way around. That was ridiculous. I knew that. She was only sixteen. She had no real wiles and she’d been drunk.

She wasn’t drunk now, though, and she wasn’t shy about what she wanted. The issue was that what she wanted and what I wanted could fall out of the tree in very different places.

Yes. She needed to make my prick very limp, so that I couldn’t do a very bad thing.

“Okay,” I said. “You may suck my cock.”

“Gee, thanks so much,” she said, with her lips inches from mine. “You’re so romantic.”

“You came in here naked, and I didn’t even get a chance to take your clothes off while we made out,” I said. “That might have been romantic. Right now you’re horny and you want me to help you handle that. Ergo, no romance is needed. Am I right?”

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