Chapter 7

Vera:

This seems to have been a week for craziness. First Beth doesn't even come home Monday night, and then she comes home hysterical and has to dress in thirty minutes for a trip to Antoine's! The more I saw of this Jack person, the more he had to answer for! I was watching Beth stagger down the walk in front of him, vowing that I would get my licks in on the bastard -- who was UNDOUBTEDLY a predator of SOME type -- when little Frieda threw cold water in my face! I'd turned on her to pry more information on the situation from her -- she was as poor a liar as Beth, or worse -- I got: "Jeez, Mrs. H! Beth FINALLY meets a guy who is into her and you have to treat it as ugly!"

And when I expressed my serious concerns about having this guy rob my little girl of her innocence, Frieda hit me with: "Mrs. H! Why on Earth would a hot guy hunt down BETH just to take her cherry!" I flinched at that -- which is maybe why Frieda went on the offensive, informing me that my over-protectiveness was likely to rob Beth of what could be a golden opportunity while reminding me that such opportunities were few and far between...

Then, however, she upped the ante: "You want her to be picked up, don't you?" I admitted it, so she pressed harder, with: "Okay, Mrs. H -- what is Beth gonna have to do to get picked up?" My imagination threw out some pretty sordid pictures -- and Frieda went on to validate them for me: "I'll tell you! She's gonna have to get naked and offer to blow a guy -- at least! More likely, she's gonna have to do more than that! Now, which would you prefer -- Jack, or some four hundred pound black guy with a couple of gold teeth and a bad attitude who's ONLY interested in taking her innocence -- and maybe won't take her afterward because she has NO IDEA what she's doing?"

It was pretty harsh -- so much so that Oliver inserted himself into the conversation to tone it down -- but Frieda was not to be denied... "We need to deal with reality, Mr. H! If Beth gets picked up, you have to hope that whoever does it is a nice guy -- and it's the luck of the draw! When it happens, there isn't gonna be any tender romance -- she's gonna have to put her stuff out there and HOPE someone is vaguely interested, and she'll be going in BLIND! Jack, on the other hand, is into her -- I KNOW, I was THERE when they met! Even if you're right and he's a total scumbag, he's doing her a favor if he teaches her a few things!"

That was going a bit far, so I erupted, "Frieda! That's DISGUSTING!"

It didn't stop her. "Maybe," she retorted, "but if you screw this up for Beth, she'll NEVER forgive you! Besides, you missed the IMPORTANT things when you started crawling all over Jack!"

"Oh? Like what?" Given the way the conversation was going, it could be the size of his member!

"Did you ASK about his CAP score?"

Funny, that floored me! It made me realize that young girls had vastly different priorities than those I'd had at their age. When I was their age, being a 'bad girl' was a bad idea if you wanted to collect something premium in the way of a mate. You were picky about who you offered a glimpse of your charms (something I had in limited quantities -- and I'd passed that dearth to Beth... ), because girls with a reputation as a slut didn't get the good stuff. Well, that was the official tale, anyway, passed down from MY mother -- and if real life didn't seem to reflect that, I assumed that I was missing something.

Young girls nowadays were looking for lightning to strike. The brass ring was a trip to a colony and to a motherhood role that hearkened back to Grandma's when it came to responsibilities, but in an environment where you always had food on the table and your basic needs -- including the all-important 'survival' -- were taken care of. Girls who hid their light under a basket weren't going to get that light seen. Young girls needed to have their charms in quick-draw holsters -- because when the surroundings suddenly got grey, the first one in front of a buyer had the advantage.

Ugly as it was, I couldn't argue with this. I'd had nearly forty years to get to know how men's minds worked -- and Oliver, for all his intelligence, was an open book -- so I KNEW that a young guy, in particular, would settle for the first pair of boobs presented to him, all things being equal. So while I could view the current fashion trend of displaying everything you could get away with and making access easy to the rest with alarm and disgust, it WAS a survival adaptation.

Similarly, the independent woman who measured her worth by the income she brought home in competition with males was a stereotype that was taking a serious beating -- because it only REALLY worked for women who had high CAP scores. Everybody else was fooling themselves if they thought doing the 'I'm as good as any guy' thing was going to get them anywhere. Frieda had laid it out baldly; in the post-Sa'arm world, the vast majority of women needed to have a different set of skills on their resumes to be successful -- skills that would have gotten a girl in MY generation censure, at the very least! My eldest daughter, bless her simple heart, lacked those skills -- and given the fact that she had no natural advantages that might make up for them, that lack was damning. As awful as it might sound, if this Jack person did no more for Beth than to teach her to give a creditable blowjob, it would be a positive result of their relationship -- and if he hurt her in the process, what was more important to her long-term survival?

Last, but pivotal -- while I was trying to force my outdated, twentieth-century morals down their throats, I had not even BOTHERED to discover whether this Jack was a potential savior or just the guy who was going to get Beth, belatedly, through her first relationship with a man! One, simple, five word question would have provided an answer as to whether this 'relationship' should be treated as a fling or something serious -- and I HADN'T ASKED IT! Frieda was right; even though she didn't actually come out and say so, I had my head up my ass! Granted, I was out of practice; the other two girls had moved through the hazards of dating and were long gone -- but they'd done it pre-Diaspora, too, so we'd all been able to pretend that the outdated rules I'd learned from my mother still applied. But I was acting stupid in the FIRST place; at twenty-three, Beth was already late learning the facts of life! The argument that 'You don't have sex with the first guy to come along!' rings hollow when it takes THAT long for him to show up! When would the SECOND guy show up? Add the whole (unlikely) proposition that he might be Prince Charming with a high CAP score into the equation and giving this Jack a lot of heat was ... unwise. Frieda was right -- Beth would never forgive me if I ran the guy off, even if I got to say 'I told you so!' in the long run.

But I'm STILL a mother; I waited up. It gave me some time for some uninterrupted thought, and I took it...

They came in after one, together. He stood there looking at me while Beth took off the shawl Frieda had sent her out with and pulled off her heels. Since he was inside and seemed to be waiting for me to open up, I did so, "Jack, is it?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

'Ma'am, huh? Walking on eggs, is he?' I wondered why, since worst case, he could just leave. Why had he come in, anyway? To business... "What's your CAP score, Jack?"

"Six point seven."

Could it all be that simple? Nah... "Is that a fact? I don't suppose..."

He grimaced; I'd called his bluff, and he was a liar, apparently ... I raised an eyebrow. Well, Beth needed to learn that some men were liars...

But he reached in his wallet and came forward with a card after all. It wasn't a CAP card -- not like mine, anyway. No, it said 'Armed Forces of the Confederacy' and it identified Jack as Jack LeRoy Harper, with a rank of LT, whatever that is. There was a CAP score there, and it was six point seven as advertized -- but it stole over me that this changed things. CAP cards more or less told you what you were eligible for if you staggered into a pickup -- but this guy was in the Confederacy military already... "This says you're already in the Confederacy military," I noted.

Jack limited himself to, "Yes."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Did Beth know? She DID! I could tell by looking at her!

"It means Beth is leaving with me," Jack said.

That answer hit me where I lived, but I held onto a poker face. "That isn't 'Maybe, someday, ' either, is it?"

Jack shook his head. "No, 'Soon, ' is more like it."

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry! Lightning had struck! My little girl had gone from the dumpster to the stars in one jump! I wondered if she had any idea just how lucky she was; this wasn't a 'Maybe' deal -- she was in! Of course, I was going to lose her... "You didn't even have to bring her back."

"No, I didn't," he agreed -- and I learned right then and there that Jack was a nice guy.

"We're going upstairs," Beth announced, daring me to say something. No, my little girl is no fool. She might not be gifted, but she's not an idiot -- she inherited my common sense. She knew EXACTLY what she had and what she needed to do to protect it!

I couldn't improve the situation, so it was time to back off; I nodded to Jack and said, "Good night, then," and left the room, leaving Beth looking surprised. Well, she could thank Frieda; without our little conversation, things would have gone VERY different -- and I would have had SERIOUS regrets, one way or the other...

Sleep was another matter. Ollie, bless his heart, could sleep through an earthquake -- and besides, he'd gone on to bed early, leaving me to sit up and stew. So I went to bed and lay there, tense and excited...

I THOUGHT it was just the whole Beth finally getting a break thing -- excitement that she had managed to find a man AND get picked up in the process -- but that wasn't it. No, I realized what the REAL problem was only when it announced itself -- I was waiting to hear them having sex! The banging of Beth's headboard on the wall brought it all home ... Even Ollie couldn't sleep through THAT, so I lurched up to go put a stop to it.

They moved before I got there; I walked in to find Beth up on her hands and knees, facing away from me while Jack pounded away at her pussy, his hands on her hips. I had a front row seat -- and I couldn't bring myself to leave!

Jack was practiced. It's hard to explain, but it was clear. He wasn't going like a jackrabbit, and he seemed to know where Beth was in her cycle and tune himself to it. He slowed down at one point early on and I knew he had cum inside her -- but he took off again after a few seconds, and I watched white goo appear around their juncture, thinking that I REALLY needed to say something to Beth about trimming back all that fur...

It was hot -- animal sounds, urgent motion, Jack's big dick driving into my daughter's pussy -- I succumbed, sliding my hand into my panties under my cotton nightgown and rubbing my love bump and my nether lips. I tuned my manipulations to his strokes and the animal grunts of my daughter's reaction to them; I don't know how I stayed quiet, since I exploded once and had to lean back against the open doorframe while my knees shook and sparks cascaded before my eyes. I didn't make it to twice, though; Jack buried himself in Beth's pussy and emitted a strained grunt and I stood there, watching his balls jump in his scrotum and the underside of his cock pulse.

He backed out of her and settled on his haunches, and Beth's head came up off the pillow -- and I was discovered as her eyes picked me up in the dresser mirror. I snatched my hand out of my panties, but my nightgown remained bunched, only slowly dropping back into place. To cover myself, I made the excuse of the headboard noise -- but of course, that had stopped ten minutes before. Jack flopped over and sat up, exposed; he was teasing me deliberately, I believed -- and it worked, since I could not draw my eyes away from his erection. Feigning calm, I said, "That was some exhibition you two put on."

Jack acted nonchalant, claiming that the plan had been sleep, but Beth had insisted -- which raised a question. "That wasn't your first time," I accused Beth. "How long... ?" I was VERY surprised that she should be able to hide such a thing from me -- it wasn't generally within her capabilities to keep ANY kind of a secret.

Sure enough, Beth blushed nearly purple. "Last night. With Jack. I ... lied. I wasn't drunk -- we were asleep, after." Well, I'd suspected that she was lying on the phone; now I knew why.

It was time to try to back out gracefully. "I'm going to bed now," I announced, "and will try to sleep. You should, too." I backed out and headed back to my bedroom, hoping I could actually manage a wink or two. I did, too -- after I made an absolute spectacle of myself in bed beside my husband with both hands in my crotch, pumping and diddling ... Thank GOD Ollie sleeps soundly!

I said nothing to Oliver when it was time to get up and fix his breakfast; I left it to Beth or Jack to deliver the surprise -- and it was every bit as entertaining as I thought it would be! Oliver didn't catch on to the fact that Beth must be up early for a reason; he just took her to task for staying out late and worrying us. Beth was tongue-tied -- nothing was coming out under her father's questioning -- so Jack stepped into the room and announced himself, "Hi, I'm Jack."

Ollie isn't stupid; he took in Jack, then Beth, and turned to me -- which I guess I should have expected, since I hadn't said anything to him and I wasn't schooling my expression very well. "All right -- what's going on?"

I was enjoying the whole thing a little too much maybe, so I came out with, "Oliver, meet your son-in-law -- or as close as we're going to get, anyway."

Oliver looked back at Jack, who tried to keep things from getting out of hand by offering low-key apology for the surprise -- but then Oliver knew who had rigged it. Instead, he turned on Beth, "When did this all start? And when were you going to tell someone?" Before she could stammer out an answer, however, he resumed questioning Jack, "I assume the uproar last night wasn't your first date."

Jack started to waffle -- and Oliver was wasting his time on side issues, anyway. Impatient for the other shoe to drop, I erupted, "Oliver is no fool, Young Man. Show him what you showed me."

Jack gave the same little wince and grimace that he'd given me, but said "Fine," and presented that ID card.

Ollie was all over it. "Forgive me if I'm wrong, but a CAP card qualifies you for citizenship, but doesn't make you a citizen. THIS, on the other hand..."