Chapter 3

She was gone and I was lying on my bed, where she had lain. There was just a hint of residual heat, left there by her body. I felt my cum smeared on my stomach, but didn’t have the energy to get up and wipe it off. I reached for my cock and it felt completely normal. That amazed me, because it had been inside one woman and shot spunk on another woman. It should feel different, but it didn’t.

I fell asleep, but Tasha came in and woke me up. She was dressed.

“You can’t lie there naked with your stuff all over you. Go take a shower before Mom gets home. And air your room out. It smells ... funky ... in here.”

It was a little comforting for the same old bossy Tasha to be back. It made things feel more normal.

“Roger that, Ma’am!” I said, imitating a soldier.

She turned around and left. I took a shower and used the can of Febreze from the bathroom to spray around in my room.

Mom worked part time at the library and wouldn’t be home for another hour, so I made myself a PB&J sandwich. Tasha was nowhere to be found. I didn’t know how to feel about that. Was she sorry it had happened? Did she blame me for corrupting our relationship? Would she hate me from now on?

I didn’t know and I wouldn’t find out until she got back from wherever she went. I looked out the window and realized that our lawn was taller than Mrs. Pastrianni’s lawn. I should have cut both at the same time but I didn’t want to, at that time. I had just showered, but I went outside anyway and mowed our lawn.

The next time I saw Tasha was at supper. Mom insisted we all sit down together for supper every day, if possible. After supper Mom told Tasha to wash the dishes, which was one of her chores, like mowing the lawn was one of my chores. Mom and Dad both went to the living room and I heard the TV turn on. Tasha was putting things in the dishwasher and I handed stuff to her. We worked in silence until she stood up. We were close to each other. She licked her lips and looked toward the living room.

“What are we going to do?” she whispered.

“I thought nothing,” I whispered back.

She leaned forward and kissed me. It was a longish peck, with soft lips. She didn’t put her arms around me.

“I’m not sure I can do nothing,” she said.

“We have to do nothing,” I reminded her.

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

“Okay,” I responded.

“Lock your door, tonight,” she said.

“Give me a break.” I smiled.

She didn’t smile.

“Bobby, I never once thought seriously about losing my virginity ... until now. That’s crazy, but I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m going to go take a bath and rub for an hour. I hope that calms me down. Going for a run, earlier didn’t help, so I hope the bath does. Just lock your door tonight. Please?”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

She took off to go get naked and lie in the tub finger-fucking herself and I went to my room. The images in my mind of Tasha in the tub were vivid. Then my imagination had me climbing in the tub with her and us kissing, and somehow my dick got in her and ... I came. That’s all it took to get my balls to empty out on a sock. I lay there, panting.

I thought I understood where she was coming from.

I played video games for a couple of hours and then went to read in bed.

I locked the door.

Nobody had knocked on my door, which was good. I had to jerk off again before I could go to sleep. When I woke up I was still horny.

I thought about Mrs. Pastrianni. Would she be willing to help me? I didn’t have to fuck her. I just needed her to get me off and take the edge off.

Normally, when I went next door to do something for Mrs. Pastrianni nobody paid any attention. Mom and Dad were usually at work and Tasha never paid any attention to me.

That had changed.

When I was heading for the door, Tasha saw me and asked where I was going.

“Next door,” I said. “Mrs. Pastrianni needs to change a light bulb that’s high up and she’s afraid she’ll fall off the ladder.”

“Well, don’t you fall off the ladder,” she said.

“I won’t.”

When I tapped on Mrs. Pastrianni’s door my purpose for being there changed. The need to unburden myself was more important than getting off. When she answered the door she said, “Hi!” and then stuck her head out and looked both ways.

“Nobody knows I’m here,” I said. “Except Tasha. That’s what I need to talk to you about. I know what you said yesterday, and I’m still interested, except something weird happened with Tasha and I need to talk to you about it, if I can.”

“Well!” she said. “I’m glad you’re showing some restraint. It helps me develop some restraint. Come on in.”

Today she was wearing a sun dress that had a flower print on it. It was sleeveless and loose, which meant as she turned to go back in I saw she wasn’t wearing a bra.

I reached to shift things so the boner I was getting would be more comfortable.

She took me to the kitchen and poured me a glass of lemonade. Her coffee was already there, beside a book I assumed she’d been reading.

“What about Tasha?” she asked.

Now this was the woman who had popped my cherry. She was special. And I knew she wasn’t my girlfriend or anything like that, and I knew that I had no “rights” to do things with her, but I also knew she liked me a lot. Surely all this meant we were friends, right?

“We’re friends ... right?” I opened.

She smiled, but then made her face calm.

“Yes. We’re definitely friends,” she said.

“And friends can talk about anything, right?”

“Yes,” she said.

So I told her everything that had happened, and how strange it was for both of us, and how what she and I had done at her house had played into things and helped me cope. I ended up with Tasha thinking about getting my spunk inside her, instead of on her, and her telling me to lock my door.

“And I don’t know what to do,” I finished.

“I’m glad you shared this with me,” she said. “I want to help, if I can.”

“That’s great, but what can you do?”

“Aside from emptying your balls so you don’t ask Tasha to, I have an idea.”

“I’m all ears,” I said.

“No you’re not. You have a broad, handsome chest and a tight butt and a gorgeous phallus.”

“Ha, ha,” I said.

“My idea is to get her a vibrator.”

I thought about that.

“She already has a dildo.”

“It’s interesting that you know that, but it’s not the same thing. Stay right here.”

She got up and went toward her bedroom. When she came back she had something in her hand. When she sat down she held it up. It was a bizarre looking thing, with a long column, but also a little pointed arm sprouting off of it, like a limb on a tree.

“This is my rabbit,” she said. She put her finger on the tip of the column. “This goes up inside me, where I would much rather have your penis, and this,” she touched the limb, “goes against my clit.” She reached at the bottom of the column and turned something. The rabbit came to life. The column bent and went in a small circle. The limb buzzed and shook. Suddenly I got it. I understood the design and intent.

“That might work,” I said.

“I used it two times after you left, yesterday,” she said.

“Wow,” I said.

“You need to grow up and go to college so you’re not right next door to me,” she said. “Otherwise I’m going to go broke buying batteries and new rabbits to replace the ones I wear out.”

I leaned back. No girl or woman had ever talked to me like this. Tasha had gotten awfully close, but I knew Mrs. Pastrianni’s memory allowed her to imagine a repeat. Tasha was imagining something less defined. For Tasha this was the unknown. She felt the urge to do this unknown thing and find out what Mrs. Pastrianni knew deep down in her bones.

“If you keep saying things like that I’m going to get a boner,” I said.

She smiled.

“Why do you think I say things like that?”

“I’m all for it, but I’m here to figure out how to help Tasha.”

“Right,” she said. “Well, getting one of these is no problem. I can go to Christie’s Toy Box over in Spring Hill and buy one today I can get the condoms at the same time. The problem is, how are you going to explain how you got it and why you even know they exist?”

“Good point,” I said.

“And, even if we get her one, it will only help a little.” She leaned forward and, in a loud whisper, said, “She needs the real thing, just like I do.”

“I can’t believe you said that,” I said. “That would be incest!”

“Yes, it would,” she said. “Danny and Jerome told me about the cultural differences they saw in the various places the Army sent them. Every culture has rules, and consequences for breaking them. But when you compare those different rules from different places, you end up thinking we’d all be better off if we didn’t judge people so much. At least I do. I broke social mores when I let two men make love to me at the same time. I broke a rule that says a wife can’t have sex with a man who isn’t her husband. I broke a rule that in some places said I can’t let a black man make love to me. That’s a rule I’m still breaking, but now it’s with you. There would be a huge scandal if anybody found out you bedded me, just like there would be a huge scandal if anyone found out you were bedding Tasha. But in the privacy of my home, what I do with you is nobody else’s business. And what you and Tasha decide to do behind closed doors is nobody else’s business. It isn’t my business, so I will not judge it.”

“Wow,” I sighed.

“Look. You guys have to do something, and starting with getting her some relief is a good first step. She will want to know where you got it and a dozen other things, but you don’t have to answer those questions. Just kiss her and tell her to go use it.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Do you feel better?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“I do not want you to thank me verbally,” she said.

She unbuttoned the front of her sundress and showed me her breasts.

There is a rather huge difference in being ambushed, more or less, and having sex, and planning to have sex, or knowing that the reason you are following her is to have sex in her bedroom.

This is where I learned about foreplay.

She shrugged her shoulders and the sundress floated to the floor. She had nothing on under it. She struck a pose and said, “I was hoping you would drop by, today.”

When I got out of my shorts and tank top I was rarin’ to go.

“I love it when that happens because of me,” she said. Then she frowned. “Assuming it is because of me. Or are you thinking about Tasha?”

“I wasn’t, until you brought her up. I don’t think I’m going to think about her until later.”

“Good boy,” she said.

We got on the bed and hugged and kissed. She played with my dong but didn’t suck it. She taught me how to suck her nipples and finger her pussy. In a short ten minutes her body was ready to receive me and be stretched. She gave a little half groan as I slid into her and bottomed out. Then she taught me about her buttons and how to play her like a violin. It is very difficult to describe how I felt as her face moved while she was having an orgasm, and how her voice had this sobbing catch in it when I made her cum. She clutched me and wrapped her legs around me. Her kisses were urgent, but somehow all this gave me the patience to wait.

Then she started pushing my buttons; buttons I didn’t even know I had.

“Okay,” she panted. “Your turn. Do you want to cum in me, Bobby? Do you want that beautiful black prick to spit me full of delicious African seed?”

It was like somebody put wires on me that were plugged into the wall.

I whimpered as I let loose. I know I sounded like a little girl, but she kept going. She wanted to drain me completely.

“I shouldn’t let you cum in me like this,” she said as her hands pulled on my butt. “It’s dangerous for me to let you cum in me.”

I kept pushing harder, trying to get more of me in her, whining the whole time.

“Now you can think about Tasha,” she breathed.

“Now you can talk to Tasha,” came a loud voice from the open doorway. We both looked, and there was my big sister. Her eyes were as big around as silver dollars. She was crouched, like she was about to flee.

“Don’t leave!” barked Mrs. Pastrianni. “Bobby, get off of me. We need to talk to Tasha.”

I rolled over. I knew what Tasha was seeing. She was seeing my half hard prick, coated with my semen, and that same semen oozing out of Mrs. Pastrianni’s pussy. She didn’t get to look long, because Mrs. Pastrianni grabbed a robe that was hanging on a hook on the wall and put it on. Then she turned to face my sister, who was still frozen.

“We can talk, can’t we, Tasha?” said Mrs. Pastrianni in a voice that sounded soothing and friendly. “Please don’t go,” she went on. “I need to explain things to you. I want you to understand. I would be heartbroken if you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you,” said Tasha, her voice raspy. “I just don’t believe it. I can’t believe it!”

“I know,” cooed Mrs. Pastrianni. “Come with me. You can calm down and I’ll answer your questions and explain how this happened.”

“Yes,” Tasha grunted. “I don’t feel too good.”

“Let’s get you something for your stomach. Bobby? You stay here, for now, okay?”

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The Breeding of Jill Pastrianni

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