Orchard Flower (Version Alpha)
Chapter 5

Copyright© 2009 by Lubrican

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 5 - When Bob went to South Dakota, running from his pain, he didn't intend to ever feel good again. He didn't intend to fall in love again. And he SURE didn't think he'd be interesting to a sixteen year old girl.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   Reluctant   Heterosexual   First   Oral Sex   Pregnancy   Slow  

"Mom!" squeaked Jill again.

"Oh fuck," I sighed for a second time. I was in deep trouble and I knew it.

"You didn't have to tell me you were fucking, Bob. I could see that plainly," said Lynne, again in a dry matter-of-fact voice.

"I'm sorry," I whined.

"It didn't look like you were all that sorry a minute ago," said the woman.

"Mom!" moaned Jill a third time. For some reason she covered her breasts with her hands.

"Get off of him, Jill," her mother ordered.

Jill, acting from habit, did what her mother told her to do. She stood up. Oddly, I wasn't going soft. I was still as hard as I'd ever been. The combination of the bench and my body was high enough off the ground that she couldn't just lift a leg and swing it over. As a result, she was stuck as my rigid dick tried to stay in her. By going up on her toes and leaning forward she got it out of her. There followed a gush of thick white sperm that dripped onto my prick, making a mess. She started crying as she put her hands on my chest to help her get off and stand beside me. She frantically groped for her clothes.

"Get dressed and go on home," said Lynne. "I need to talk to Bob."

"It wasn't his fault, Momma," sobbed Jill. "He told me not to."

"Uh huh," said Lynne. It was obvious she was a little doubtful about that. "You just get on home. And sit on the toilet for a while, so as much of that ... stuff ... will drain out of you as possible.

Jill was blubbering but managed to get dressed as her mother seemed to ignore her. She forgot all about the motorcycle, though, and just took off running as soon as she was dressed. I struggled to sit up while Lynne just stood there, watching me.

"Aren't you a sight," she said calmly. Her eyes went to my messy crotch. "I never thought I'd see you like this, Bob."

At that point there wasn't much I could do and I knew it. I was pretty much at her mercy, though I didn't expect much of that. I was a little embarrassed too. I'd had a fantasy or two about Lynne, in the past, but none of them approximated anything like this. I had thought about being naked with her ... but not like this.

"Come on," she said, nodding her head toward my house. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

Now that was something I wasn't prepared for.

"Huh?"

"I can't talk to you when you look like that, and you can't get dressed with all that ... um ... stuff ... in your lap," she said. "We're out in the country. Nobody can see you from the road. Just get up and come with me to the house. You need a shower."

"Look, Lynne," I started, but she held up a hand.

"Clean up now ... talk later," she said firmly.

"Yes Ma'am," I said. I stood up.

Try to imagine taking a little stroll with a woman, in which she is fully dressed, and you're naked, carrying your clothes, with your own cum dripping off your peter and balls. This stroll is in broad daylight, across your yard, and the woman is walking beside you as if nothing was out of the ordinary at all.

Yeah, I can't imagine it either, and I DID it!

She steered me into the house. Of course she'd been there before on a number of occasions, and knew where things were, so she more or less shepherded me to the master bathroom that was attached to my bedroom, where she opened the shower door and got the water going. She turned around to see me standing there, staring at her. I was still holding my clothes.

"You can wash the clothes separately, Bob," she said. "Right now all that needs to go in the shower is you."

I was still out there, watching all this like my mind had left my body. It was really quite interesting. I watched myself be steered gently into the shower. She had to take the clothes out of my hands too. The water woke me up, because it was hot ... too hot. I yelped and reached for the tap to mediate the temperature. That took my mind off of the recent circumstances for a few seconds, and I began to think again. Since Jill had taught me to shoot, I'd gotten more guns. I now owned three rifles and two handguns. Since I was the only one living there, I didn't keep them in a safe or anything. I remembered that the nine millimeter pistol was lying on the kitchen table where I'd left it after cleaning it.

I had sudden visions of Lynne getting that gun and getting her own justice by shooting me in the shower, where my body would be found days later, dead of an apparent suicide out of remorse for what I'd done. I was thinking again, but not too clearly.

The door to the shower opened and I actually flinched, pressing against the wall to take what was coming to me.

But what was coming to me wasn't a bullet.

Lynne stepped into the shower stall with me ... stark naked. Her short page boy hair went dark instantly as it got wet. I stared. Lynne was the same height as Jill, and in the right circumstances they might even have been mistaken for sisters, rather than mother and daughter, but her body was more lush, somehow. She worked hard running the orchard and spent a lot of time outdoors. There wasn't a spare ounce of fat on her body, and she had well defined, though not unfeminine muscles under all that skin. Her breasts were full and round on the bottoms, but sloped on top. I used to call them ski jump breasts when I was younger, because the flesh came swooping down her upper chest and then rose to nipples that were where the imaginary skier would leave the ground. Lynne's nipples were that dark color that is almost black, perched on areolas that were the same color. Some part of my brain observed that those nipples were jutting out from those areolas, erect as all getout. My eyes slithered down to her groin, where fluffy hair that matched her head was beginning to lie down against her body as it got wet too. My eyes took in rounded hips that, while relatively unpadded, still looked distinctly feminine.

"Lynne?" I blurted.

"Who'd you think it would be?" she asked calmly. "Are you going to stand there all day, or get clean?"

"What the heck is going on, Lynne?" I moaned.

"We're getting you cleaned up, Bob," she said patiently.

"But ... but ... but..." The old vinyl record that was my voice at that moment got stuck in a scratch.

She ignored me and looked around for the soap. She grabbed it and then grabbed me, pulling me back under the spray. She got behind me and then started washing me.

If the walk across the yard hadn't unhinged me, this almost did. Her hands, which I knew were rough and callused, felt baby soft as they slid over my shoulders and down my arms. Her hands went between my arms and sides and she washed upwards into my arm pits. I moved my hands out, raising my arms automatically and her hands went on to my chest.

That pulled her naked body up against mine and I felt those ski jump breasts with their pebbly hard nipples press into my back. I imagined feeling that fluffy brown hair pushing against my naked butt too, even thought I knew that hair wasn't fluffy any more.

Her hands, one of which held the bar of soap, slid all over my chest and stomach, sliding low enough that it grazed my pubic hair. I had no idea what was going on, but I still had visions of her wrath making me pay. She might not have long sharp fingernails, but her hands were as strong as a man's and could crush my balls quite easily. My butt pressed into her instinctively as I tried to get my jewels away from the perceived danger.

"Oh stop it!" she barked. "I'm not going to hurt your precious manhood."

 
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