Chapter 13

“One of us should get up and check on the kids,” sighed Megan.

“They are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves,” said Bob, who was holding her against him.

“I’m not worried about them taking care of each other. They’re teenagers, and both of them are chock full of hormones.”

“I thought you were glad she was finally taking an interest in boys.”

“I am. I’m delighted, in fact, and Josh seems like a very nice boy. But they’re still full of dangerous hormones.”

“I don’t know. Erica is passionate enough, but that poor boy is afraid of his own shadow. I don’t see him making a move on Erica.”

“All I’m going to do is make an appearance, so they know they’re under surveillance. Then I’ll come back. I promise.”

“I’ll be so lonely without you,” he whined. “It will be dark and scary.”

“You’re dark and scary,” she said, as she kissed him. “What is it I see in you?”

“Once you go black, you never go back,” he said with a grin.

“Do not waste any of your man cream while I’m gone,” she said.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure my man thing doesn’t have an accident.”

“That poor boy. I hope she hasn’t made fun of him.”

“The odds of that happening are on par with the odds of winning the lottery – twice.”

“And you know this how?”

“Because she’s a lioness. She won’t play with him. She’ll just eat him.”

“Bob, she’s used to getting her bell rung whenever she wants to. I don’t want her to eat him and end up pregnant.”

“That’s not how it works,” said Bob. “If she eats him, everything will be in her cute, flat, tummy, and her eggs will be safe.”

“You have more faith in them than I do. You’re inaccessible as an actual mate. The whole reason she lets go with you so passionately is because she knows it’s safe. If she’s with this boy she obviously likes, she’s going to think nothing serious will happen, because he’s not Bob. We told them to kiss and make up. Both of them were wound up when we left them alone. I just want to make sure he’s not kissing her while lying on top of her with his no doubt sweet adolescent penis in her hungry adolescent vagina.”

“Go, then, and after you hose them down with cold water and pull them apart, hurry back here. I’m chock full of hormones and I hope you’re hungry.”

She finished wrapping a robe around her and tied the belt. She leaned over and kissed him, warmly.

“I’m famished. You always make me hungry.”

“Uh oh,” he said. “Now I got a boner.”

“Remember what I said about wasting your cream.”

“I promise,” he said.

Megan opened her bedroom door and went in search of two teenagers. It just so happened that Josh, having gone to the guest room to get into his sports bag for his pajamas, had returned to Erica’s bedroom to find her missing and heard the shower running. So he went to the living room to wait for her. This was all new to him and he was still operating on his former understanding of the mores he’d been taught. Those mores had already been warped, like two cars get warped when they run into each other. But if the cars don’t hit too hard, they’re still drivable. As hard as the two had run into each other, he was still the boy his mamma had raised, and you don’t go into a girl’s bedroom unless you are invited there. In a month hence, after Josh had been to her house two more times, he would know she welcomed him into her boudoir anytime.

So Megan found one of the hormone-filled teenagers sitting on the couch, wearing a full set of pajamas with images of galaxies and planets and rocket ships on them. He was calmly leafing through a National Geographic coffee table book that had gorgeous photographs in it of interesting geological formations around the world.

“Where’s Erica?” asked Megan.

Josh looked up and didn’t speak for a few seconds. That’s because the robe Megan was wearing was made of silk. It was short, and showed a lot of leg. And when she had bent over to kiss Bob, it had strained the belt she had just tied, and pulled it loose, a little. Her generous cleavage was exposed, way past where a bra would have been, which might have been okay, by itself, but Bob’s word play had made her horny and her fat nipples were clearly imprinted through the material of the robe. Her hair was mussed a bit.

Basically, she looked like a Playboy model, relaxing between nude shoots.

Josh quickly laid the book down on his lap and swallowed.

“She’s taking a shower.”

“Are you two speaking to each other again?”

He blushed bright red as he nodded.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good. All I’ll say is that happens to hundreds of thousands of men, and you should not be ashamed. That’s all I’ll say. I’ll never refer to that again, alright?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said again.

She noticed that his eyes were not on her face and looked down. She pulled the robe more tightly around her lush body.

“Bob and I are going to retire for the night. You know where things are and Erica will fix you snacks and all that. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Josh, who now had visions in his mind of Bob and Mrs. Blaylock, naked, on the bed, “makin’ bacon” as they say. He was so hard he was afraid the heavy book might rise up.

She turned to leave and then stopped. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Josh. I’m really glad you’re here. Please be a gentleman with my daughter.”

“Of course!” he gasped.

“Good boy,” she said.

He watched her Playboy ass rise and fall through the material of the robe as she walked away ... on her way to take the robe off and have sex with Bob.

Erica, when she came out of her room, looking for Josh, assumed his straining boner was because of her.

“Wanna see my boobs?” she whispered.

“Yes, Ma’am,” gasped the boy.

The pajamas Erica had stuffed herself into would have been appropriately modest, had she still been twelve, when they were bought. They were Barbie themed and had four big buttons that closed the top in the front. The top button was already gone and the second was literally hanging by a thread or two. They were sized for a girl with modest, twelve-year-old breasts. Basically, ten pounds of gorgeous, soft tits had been crammed into a five pound sack.

Josh looked at her and groaned.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He didn’t tell her about her mother. He just moved the book off of his lap. The rocket ship on the front of his pajama pants looked like it was standing on the launch pad, ready to go.

“Calm down,” she said, softly. “Come to my room, and maybe I can help you.”

She pulled him up and to her room. She couldn’t close the door completely. If she did that her mom would open it and come inside. If it was half open, though, it was possible her mom would see that and then go on with whatever. And if they got caught, she’d plead that they were normal teenagers, full of hormones.

Erica had heard that teenage boys could masturbate five or six times a day. That meant they could have an orgasm and get hard again fairly quickly. Erica wanted to spend some time with a hard penis, and she didn’t want him to make a mess in his pajamas. Because of her too-small pajamas, he was clearly close to popping so she felt like she needed to take emergency measures.

Once she got the door half closed she turned to find him standing there, hands at his side, rocket ship now aimed to go off horizontally. She hurried to him and pushed him onto her bed. She wasn’t familiar with the slit in men’s underwear (and pajamas), designed to make urination easier. But that gap was clearly visible and straining open, so she reached her hand in and pulled out a very hard penis. She wanted to examine it, but that would have to wait.

“I’ll help you, okay?” she asked, looking into his eyes.

Mesmerized, he just nodded frantically.

She pushed his foreskin off the head and clamped her lips behind the crown. She gave two short, firm sucks, and was rewarded with a rush of slightly salty goo. She swallowed quickly and kept sucking until she could feel the firmness in his orgasm abating. She stood up with half a mouthful of semen and used her tongue to swirl it around her mouth. She looked down and he was looking up at her, limp and no longer tense. She swallowed again and licked her lips.

“Better?”

“Uh huh,” he sighed. “Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” she said. She was horny. She knew that kissing him would make it worse. She could excuse herself and go take measures in the bathroom. Or she could see if Josh wanted lessons on some things every man should know how to do. “I enjoyed pleasing you,” she said. “Would you be willing to help me?”

“Yes,” he croaked.

“There are two ways,” she said. “You can use your fingers and rub me in certain ways.” She blinked. “Or, you can use your mouth, like I did, which is even more fun for me.” She blinked again and sweetened the pot, so to speak. “I just took a shower so I’m squeaky clean.”

If Josh hadn’t just had his pipes cleaned he might have shied away from putting his mouth where a girl pees. He was already smitten with this particular girl, though. Granted, a lot of that was because of their sexual play. She was way ahead of him in other aspects of the relationship, but he could catch up. In this situation he wanted her to be happy with him, so he agreed to suck his first pussy.

Erica positioned a pillow so she could watch, and took off her pajama bottoms. She had promised to show him her boobs, so she took the top off, too. She lay back naked with her legs spread and stabbed him with her green eyes. He wasn’t looking at her eyes.

“Oh man, oh man, oh man,” he moaned.

“Come here. I’ll teach you what I want you to do,” she said.

He was calmed, a bit, by the quick biology lesson he got on the structure of a woman’s sexual center, and where his efforts should be aimed. His analytical mind was engaged and his own ardor took a back seat.

He knew the structures of the vulva, but of course had never seen one up close and personal. He marveled at how her outer labia formed a long, loose set of lips, like his foreskin formed a loose cover for the head of his penis. When she pulled those outer lips apart there was more loose flesh beside a dark hole that looked about the diameter of a fat, kindergarten pencil. She pointed out her clit and he moved his own fingers to hold things apart.

“It looks kind of like my penis!” he said. “It looks like the tip of my penis with the foreskin pulled back. It looks like it’s trying to come out of your body.” He reached to touch it with one fingertip. He pressed straight down on the little organ but it didn’t retreat. Instead his finger slipped off of it to one side.

“Yes!” she gasped. “Like that.”

“That feels good?” he asked, pushing at the slippery knob again.

“Oh, yes, Josh. Lick it, too.”

“Like this?”

He leaned in and tried to use his stiffened tongue to push it back in. His tongue tip circled the inflamed organ.

“Yes!” she choked. “Please, please, please suck my pussy, Josh.”

Again, had he been “sober” her phrasing might have sounded objectionable. But he had a new toy to play with and when he played, there would be feedback.

So he commenced to play, and see what kind of feedback he could get.

If it hadn’t been Josh, who was interested in the whole point of doing what he was doing, it might not have worked. The average teenage boy who tries to satisfy a teenage girl by going down on her doesn’t know what to do, and so does not do it very well. His efforts will feel good to the girl, but it’s unlikely he’ll get her off. This works in the majority of such liaisons, because the girl doesn’t know she’s supposed to have an orgasm, or doesn’t expect one. The average teenage girl has to produce her own orgasms because she’s the only one who knows how to play that particular instrument. This is why, when a boy gets his hand in her pants for the first (or second or fourth or tenth) time, she does not get to where she wants to go. She gets hornier, but not off. Frustration abounds, generally.

What makes it worse for the girl, is that after “satisfying her” with his inept fingers, he wants her to do the same, and any girl, with any hand, can be ridiculously successful in getting him off - and usually within a minute. Of course there are situations in which he needs to be rubbed just so (exactly like her) and she doesn’t quite get it. He’s not there to give her lessons, so frustration abounds, generally.

This is one reason inflamed teenagers go on to have intercourse. The foreplay didn’t work, so surely the real deal will. And it almost always does work ... for the boy.