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 turned 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. Could I 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 cup. 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, rounded 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 nestled my hip against her right bum cheek. I had been here minutes, and she had moistened enough for me to slide right into her without friction.

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

Her tits changed shade 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. She also has reddish 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 a lot.”

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 even more dependent and needy.

I felt that tingle in my back, and my balls signaled for release. My nuts drew up that little twinge right before the climax overcomes me. 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 ground into 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 a lot. Harlow was inherently sexy.

Harlow wore a lot of loose tops that displayed a bunch of cleavage down her top. Sometimes she showed some side boob. Her blouses seemed to be very loose and moved on their own as her big titties slid around in her clothes.

If not that, Harlow made sure her nipples were prominently displayed. Anytime she moved, you knew her tits were unencumbered. She did it often enough to keep your eyes glued to her on 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 she was.

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 nonchalance was likely an act to make me come back. She knew the need for more cheroots would also make me 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 from each other. 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, too. 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 may be less about sincerity and more about a woman’s normal desire for her to have a man. She wants a man; in essence, she wants and needs a good provider. It’s a natural thing in women.

My mothers took me to church most Sundays when we were home. I think not so much from any religious beliefs they had, but to get us acclimatized to Christianity. To allow us to understand Christianity on our own.

Also, this exercise was so that my brothers and I could meet Christian kids to understand them. Our little school was rather small and insular. The church experience was done so that 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 also gave the man a worthy inhibitor for his own impetuous thought processes. Women help temper a man’s judgment.

Women need men more than we need them. That is more apparent here on 19’. Women here 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 so for them to have babies. Many of the men here are low-quality and backward.

Many men share several women here. ‘Wow, that’s a thought!’ One fundamental fact that some women back at home do not see is that women fundamentally need us. We are the sperm donors. We are essential for that fact 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 air-conditioned comfort, sipping a latte on break.

Here, A man can leap from one female to the next. Most 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 gather 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 here. In other words, the Drozul-Heillizdt entertainment we were putting on for the Galaxy. I am starring in my own show, which realistically is 25% porno.

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

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 a truism, but it can be brutally true if you’re broke.

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 actually red potatoes, which are smaller 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 flavor to me.

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 Yankee style chowder. I would find out later that this had goat’s milk and cream, which probably had made a difference.

The other change was that they had added a touch of Mornay Sauce to it. Evidently, Mornay Sauce was a house specialty and added to some shellfish dishes. Ox had a running text commentary 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 necessarily 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 completely 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 as in life partners. I only turned fifteen years old less than a few weeks ago.”

I said, “I am not younger; I’m a lot younger. I know I act more educated and mature; that’s what my parents did. 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 of you. I hope you’re not uncomfortable or angry with me; I know I’m much older. Why would you settle for an old maid? I knew that.

She said, “I would be deeply happy with a good business partner, one I could rely on. Between the robberies, paying rent for the storefront, and also a place to live. I scrimp and save every penny. That man’s robberies really 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 for me. 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 half lied to her, “Rebecca, half the time, a woman does not conceive; the man has the problem, not the woman. 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 catching 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 I don’t want. You are safe with me unless you tell me you want a baby. I would have to stop taking the potion for a few days, THEN I could knock you up the duff very well.”

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 teats.”

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

Chuckle, “I could tell, Bill.”

She smiled and just sat and thought for a minute. Then she shook her head.

The waiter showed up to clear 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 already empty, and a second bottle would make it hardto walk back in the afternoon heat.