Chapter 10: Rebecca

Rebecca took hold of the dress’s shoulders and tugged it up some. Then she grabbed the hem at the bottom and drew the dress up and off her inside out. This left her only in her stockings and pumps. The lace ties on the stockings made her look like a present. I like presents like this.

She turns slowly all the way around with her arms out in an ultra-feminine way. Modern women at home may be intelligent, but they are quite dumb about men. This woman knew she was not just seducing me into her bed, but as her forever man.

I could do worse than Rebecca, looks-wise. I wonder if I could do better. She is strikingly lovely and enticing. It’s almost like she’s my perfect woman. Come to think of it, she was quite pretty before Ox, and I had dabbled with her looks and health. I had unconsciously designed my own perfect woman from a very close model. She looked a lot like an actress I liked back home.

I took the time to look at her and appreciate her femininity. She has a medium waist but wide childbearing hips. I had noticed when she walked that her hips went to and fro as she moved. It was very sexy and very natural for her. She is a sexual creature.

With her breasts bared, I saw they were now a quite perky B size. I considered having her areolas and nipples change in color. No, she’s almost perfect; she’s just made younger and tightened up now.

I liked the tawny hair. It’s like the color of a lioness. Blondish with a few yellow and tan highlights. It’s not streaky; it has multiple light colors throughout. When the sun catches it, my dick gets hard.

She had a tiny pooch on her tummy. Not fat, a feminine tummy. It tells you the baby factory is right there. I loved her warm skin. Her body smell is quite nice. Some women can reek or have a sharp odor, but not Rebecca.

I said, “I’ll be back.” I went out and closed and latched the inner doors.

When I returned, she was lying on the desktop almost sideways with her right leg bent. She looked like a perfect pinup girl. Her pose is absolutely perfect. Her pussy is demurely hidden, yet her proud tits are presented for me to see. Her hips are cocked such that it inspired me to try a new position.

I lifted Rebecca’s right leg. My cock was exactly even with her pussy. I began to nudge myself in. It was too tight, so I lifted the right leg more, and my goodness. It felt good when I slid in and nested my hip against her right bum cheek. I had been here minutes, and she had moistened enough for me to slide right in her without friction.

My next discovery was when I started stroking into her firmly. It jostled her titties. Every strong stroke made her tits wobble most delightfully. They are full and round, even sideways, and I love the upturned reddened tips.

Her tits altered themselves as she got more excited!

“Uhh, Ox? I thought her areola and nipples were light tan. They appear to be a hot pink color now, with a light purple ring around the areolas and a set of coordinating red nipples. How did this happen?”

He sent, “You rarely ask for anything so when I get a chance, I did something I thought you would like.”

“Nice touch on her already masterpiece titties. I like my surprise very much.”

I had thought of it but had discounted the idea. It is a great improvement.

At this point, I was beginning to flag and think I needed food. I considered that after we finished up, we should get a meal and talk. Frankly, I was beginning to have serious second thoughts on what the word ‘partner’ meant. As a foreigner here, I thought it strictly meant a business partner, not a sex partner. I don’t want a common-law wife, or a shack-up for that matter.

Shit, I was just fifteen. I did not need or want a semi-wife at this age.

Rebecca had a string of three orgasms by now. I may have fucked up. This could make her more dependent on me.

I felt that tingle in my back and my balls ached for release. My nuts drew up that little twinge right before the release. My eyes had been on her wobbling tits all this time. If they were anything, they were a proud set of perfect tits. I gently cupped one to feel their slight wobble as I pounded her.

Rebecca’s tits are quite large for this here and now. Tits, as a rule, are on the small side here. I think it may be because they don’t drink cow’s milk. Rebecca had no children, so their generous size was awesome.

Who’s tits do they look like? They were familiar to me somehow. That’s it. Mother Connie loves old-time movies. Rebecca’s tits are shaped just like an actress called Jean Harlow. I liked her movies the best. That Harlow woman was so sexy.

Harlow wore a lot of loose tops that displayed a bunch of cleavage down her top. Sometimes she showed a lot of side boob. Her blouses seemed to be very loose and moved on their own.

If not that, Harlow made sure her nipples were prominently poking out. Anytime she moved, you knew her tits were unencumbered. She did it often enough to keep your eyes glued to the movie screen.

Harlow had a real pistol personality and her short, busty body was used by her as a weapon to get men. It worked. The odd thing was men AND women loved to watch her. What a fine actress.

Rebecca’s attitude wasn’t exactly like that, but she had that same ‘take what she needs attitude.’ Life is rough. I knew that Rebecca had purposely seduced me the first time. Her initial indifference was likely an act to make me come back. She knew the need for more cheroots would also cause me to return.

“Rebecca, I am hungry and I think we have some things to discuss, don’t you?”

She said, “Yes, we likely need to have a long conversation. I don’t know what you want or expect from me.”

I said, “Do you know how old I am?”

She said, “No. You look young but act old, more mature or learned than most men.”

I said, “So, we need to find out who each other is and what we want or expect. Let’s close up and go to the Blue Oyster.”

“Ox, What time is it, please?”

“2:36 pm.”

I said to Rebecca, “It’s mid-afternoon; we should have a fairly private meal this early.”

“You’re taking me there?”

“Of course. I want seafood.”

She said, “That’s the most expensive place in town.”

I pulled out my wrapped package of cheroots, “My father invented these. I own the factory and two other tobacco factories. I think I can afford to eat at the Blue Oyster.”

Suddenly, Rebecca was attached to my side in a clingy way. She felt nice physically, but it made me slightly uneasy. It seemed less about sincerity and more about a normal desire for the women to have here. She wants a man, a good provider. It’s a natural phenomenon in women.

My mothers took me to church most Sundays when we are home. I think not so much from any religious beliefs but to get me acclimatized to Christianity. To understand Christian-style conversation.

Also, this exercise was so my brothers and I met Christian kids - to understand them. Our little school was rather small and insular. The church experience was done so we understood the things Christians say and do. Christians have their own inside language.

I knew this new closeness Rebecca was showing was a natural reaction in women. Father explained that a single man was a male who walked around with a part missing from his brain. He made decisions on his own and quite fast, almost instantly.

A woman completed his brain in a way. That little missing piece she added tempered him. The attraction between the sexes was as much about creating the next generation. It was giving them a worthy inhibitor for his own poor thought processes. Women tend to temper a man’s judgment.

Women need men more than we need them. That is more apparent here on 19’. Women hook up because they very much need a provider - protector. They are obviously the weaker sex here. With few men around, it makes women desperate to have a man even more for them to have babies. Many of the men here are low-quality and backward.

One fundamental fact that some women back at home do not see is women fundamentally need us. We are necessary sperm donors. We are essential for that alone.

Without us, there will be NO future generations!

That is an indisputable and inimitable truth. We also do the things women won’t. We change the oil in cars and build houses, roads, and bridges. Not everyone gets to sit in A/C sipping coffee on a desk.

A man can leap from one female to the next. Many men assume they will get more reliable sex if they marry.

Dad had laughed at that when I said it. He said it was usually OK for some time. Later on, you get less sex as time goes by because life happens. In many cases, you get little or no sex after a few years.

He’d said if I wanted lots and lots of sex, I needed to go from flower to flower like a bee. If a flower is particularly sweet, I should linger with that flower to get more pollen, then move on to the next. If a flower is low in pollen, it’s time to move to the next flower.

I knew this went hand in hand with what we were doing. In other words, the Drozul - Heillizdt entertainment we were putting on for the Galaxy. I am starring in my own show, which realistically is 10% porno.

Rebecca and I soon walked into the Blue Oyster, and as I thought, it was pretty empty mid-afternoon. I asked for a table in a corner away from other people; we were having a business meeting.

The wine list was just a list of names. No descriptions, no prices. I assumed the wines would complement the seafood well, so I was not too worried.

I remembered something Mother Connie had said. “If you have to ask the price, you can’t afford it.”

This was different; I could afford any of them. Having little knowledge about the wine selection, I didn’t want a wine that clashed with our meal.

Mother Connie said she overheard that ‘If you have to ask the price’ thing on vacation. She heard it whispered between two sales ladies at a bazaar in downtown Honolulu. Coming from wealth, my mother knew it to be true, but brutally true.

I told the waitress we would take a bottle of chardonnay. I still pondered what the wines were like. I always liked a light wine like chardonnay.

She was right back. She peeled the wax coating off the top and used a corkscrew to pull the cork. Then she poured a quarter glass and handed it to me. I sniffed the wine for about fifteen seconds before taking it into my mouth and swishing it.

I said, “Very good, thank you.”

She filled my glass three-quarters full and Rebecca’s half full.

I ordered clam chowder and grilled marlin. Rebecca ordered crab bisque and crab stuffed flounder. Crab is popular in this area. The main dishes came with boiled new potatoes and fresh young corn off the cob.

They called them new potatoes, but they are red potatoes that are small by nature.

Corn off the cob was corn that had been freshly sliced from the cob. Corn on the cob was the more manual way to eat corn. Corn off the cob has a different taste.

My chowder was supposedly New England, i.e., Boston style. But its ingredients made it very different than what I had expected.

We had sailed from home to Boston and Rhode Island many times. I preferred their chowder. I would find out later that this had goat’s milk and cream, which probably had made a difference.

The other change was they had added a touch of Mornay Sauce to it. Evidently, Mornay Sauce was a house specialty and sent with some shellfish. Ox had a running text cometary running low in my left eye. He had been spying in the kitchen.

Rebecca and I finally got to the business part of the meeting. I said, “When I said I was your partner, I did not mean that as a marriage proposal. That idea that we become partners, so to speak, in life is a new idea to me. We don’t have that in Florida. It’s a different country, with very different ideas and laws.”

She looked and me and sighed.

Now, I was worried; I thought I had said that well.

I continued, “I meant partners as in business partners, not life partners. I only turned fifteen years old less than two weeks ago.”

I said, “I am not younger; I’m a LOT younger. I know I act more educated and mature; that’s was my parents doing. They saw to my getting a proper education, and I am a world traveler. I speak Spanish and French as well as English.”

She smiled sincerely, “When you said partner, I assumed because of our obvious age differences that you meant as a business partner.”

She smiled broader, “I was making fun ‘with’ you. I hope you’re not uncomfortable or angry with me; I know I’m much older. Why would you settle yourself for an old maid? I knew that.

She said, “I would be deeply happy with a good business partner, one I could rely on. Frankly, between the robberies and paying rent for the storefront and also a place to live. I scrimp and save every penny. That man’s robberies screwed things up for me.”

I said, “Wheeewww, you had me worried there. I travel a lot, and being a stay-at-home husband or partner, if you will, would be difficult. It would be detrimental to my businesses.”

Rebecca smiled and then giggled. She patted my hand and said, “I did not mind the lovemaking one bit. You were very, very good. The best. I should tell you though, you don’t need to worry about my having a child. I tried with my husband and was unable to become pregnant.”

Ox sent, “Uh-oh. We fixed that issue.”

I lied to her, “Rebecca, half the time, a woman does not conceive; the man is the problem. It is a 50-50 thing. Half the time, the man has the problem; half the time, the woman has it. What I am saying is, you have a very good chance of having a baby.”

“Do you mean you could get me knocked up the duff?”

I said, “No-no, I take a special potion from Siam, a country on the other side of the world. It prevents me from fathering a child. You are safe with me unless you want a baby. I would have to stop taking the potion for a few days, THEN I could knock you up the duff, as you said.”

She sat back and pondered. “I have to think about that. Having a baby and pushing cigars and pipe tobacco would be an issue with a baby sucking at my teets.”

I said, “That sounds sexy to me. I appreciate your lovely teets very much.”

Chuckle, “I could tell, Bill.”

She smiled and just sat and thought for a minute before shaking her head; the waiter showed up and cleared the table.

The waiter asked, “Would you like an after-dinner treat? Today, we have German chocolate cake, lemon meringue pie, custard cups, or croissants with a sweet cream.”

I ordered the lemon meringue, and Rebecca ordered the custard cup, a very English thing. I ordered coffee, and she ordered tea. The wine bottle was empty, and a second bottle would just make it difficult to walk back in the afternoon heat.

I slowly walked her back to Morgan House. As we came in the door, Caitir greeted me.

“Caitir, would you bring up a small pitcher of cool tea, glasses, and a sugar bowl?”