Chapter 12: Couldn't Think of Anything Clever

I woke the next morning alone. It didn’t surprise me until later when I noticed that the bathroom was not a mess. It was damp, but clean. Only then did it dawn on me like Archrimedes discovering specific gravity that I had a houseguest, who was at that point absent.

I glanced in the mirror and decided that the stubble could survive an extra few minutes without causing much harm to the greater universe. This left me free to search for Jenny. I didn’t travel far in my quest; she was in the kitchen, stooped over the twin system of Charlie and kitty bowl. She soft stroked the cat who merrily munched his morning meal.

“He’ll be okay,” I overheard her say to him, “Just wait and see. It’ll be alright.”

“What’ll be alright,” I asked as I made my way to the coffee maker.

Jenny looked up at me and said, “Everything. Charlie is a little worried about you, you know.”

“No,” I replied, pouring myself a cup as I did so, “I didn’t.”

“Humph!”

“Wha?”

“Well!”

“Wha?”

“Kenny,” she stood up, “how could you not notice that he worries about you? I could see it all day yesterday.”

“Uh!”

“You are so clueless!” Shaking her head, she walked over and gave me a kiss on my cheek. “I can’t decide whether it’s annoying or cute.”

“Uh!”

“Watch it buster, you’re inching into annoying. Now, I fed your cat, so you need to make my breakfast.” Jenny swatted my bare butt in punctuation.

“Yes’em.”

I made her oatmeal.

Don’t look at the screen like that! It was only fair.

Besides, I did cook it with some raisins for a little added iron and vitamins and etc. And Gosh Darn it, it were my Gol’ Darn kitchen and a man can cook whatever he wants; it’s in the Magna Carta.

And if Jenny tells you otherwise ... well you shouldn’t believe anyone who thinks that “Thppt!” is a point winning argument. Nor should you believe anyone who thinks that finger flicks to bruises settle anything either. I mean, her arm-twisting couldn’t convince me of anything (mostly because I couldn’t think through the pain) so why should the rest of it.

She let my arm go eventually and ate her oatmeal. I had to zap it in the microwave first to bring it back to an edible temperature because of the delay. I ate mine cold, seeing as how I couldn’t afford the time it would take and still get cleaned up for work.

Jenny joined me as I shaved my whiskers. I watched her in the mirror as she watched me in the mirror. I resisted the temptation to set aside my razor and kiss her. I merely imagined the foamy aftermath on her face as I continued to perform for her enjoyment. Her eyes gleamed as I pulled my razor through the white foam of the shaving cream.

Out of the corner of my eye, I looked as she sat on the toilet. She watched each of my movements just as the other day she had watched Charlie at the food bowl. Her eyes traveled with my hand down to the sink and water to rinse off the discarded hair and shaving cream. Without the slightest head movement, she followed it back to my face to make another pass through my beard.

By the time I had washed the last bit of the shaving cream from my face and dried myself, I was grinning as broadly as she was, which was very broadly indeed. I walked over to her and she stood up. In a flash, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a quick kiss.

“Let’s shower.”

“Jenny, I really need to get ready for work.”

“No you don’t. I called in for you.”

“Uh...”

“I had no problem with either work or school. Your boss, Bruce, seemed nice. But that Humpty...”

“Stumpy.”

“ ... Stumpy ... thanks ... Stumpy is such a dork.”

“Dork?”

“I hang out with junior high school kids, sue me...”

“They still call each other dorks?”

“Last I check.”

“Oh.”

“Now, let me finish my story, silly man.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, any way ... ah?”

“Stumpy. Dork,” I suggested.

“Oh, yes. Anyway,” she began again. “That Stumpy is such a dork. He got all up in arms when I told him that you weren’t coming in again today.”

“Sounds like the little stump.”

“So he wants to know who I am and why I’m calling in for you.” She developed an e-vile grin. “So I told him that I was the girl who’s lesbian girlfriend beat you up.”

“Erp!”

“That’s what he said, but not as cute. Anyway, he gave the phone to Bruce.”

“What,” I asked cautiously, “did you tell him.”

“That I was your new girlfriend and you fell down the steps changing a light bulb for me.” I let loose a sigh and she continued, “That should explain the bruises when you go back to work tomorrow.”

She gave me another kiss, “Let’s shower.”

She beamed a guileless smile in my general direction that flatly told me that she expected her request to me granted not as if it were a casual suggestion, but as if it were part of the natural order of events. Inside, I shrugged. It was, I realized, now part of the natural order. I took a few steps forward and past Jenny and reached into the shower stall.

With a twist, I started the water with the preciseness of long habit: first the hot, followed by the cold. I stuck my hand into the water flow. The hot water slowly cleared the pipe between the shower and water heater downstairs. The water hitting my hand began to warm.

Eventually, it began to burn; I adjusted the cold water.

The shower had reached my favourite temperature by the time my hand had returned from the knob. I reached back to the knob twice until I felt the flow had reached the temperature that I remembered from my earlier shower at Jenny’s.

I reached my hand out to Jenny, and she took it. I pulled her to me. We embraced each other tightly. I covered her mouth with mine, starting a kiss that out lasted my sense of time.

Jenny pushed me away. “Kenny, let’s shower.”

“Uh.”

“Now, Kenny. Before the water turns cold.”

She pushed me into the shower and followed me inside.

The water against my face woke me from the trance. I picked my shampoo up from the floor. With a generous handful of the soap, I began to wash Jenny’s hair. She began to wash my chest.

I looked down at her. She looked up at me. I think that I may have kissed her again, but I may be sinking into cliché writing again. Let’s just all pretend that this paragraph didn’t happen, okay?

The shower was short. It ended as Jenny began to stroke my penis and when the water turned from tepid to ice cold.

In no hurry, we each began to dry the other. We got tangled in our efforts to run towels over each other.

Still, by the time we were dry and covered the distance to bedroom and bed, I had lost most of my erection.

Jenny grabbed it again and reached up to kiss me in one motion. With both hands, she stroked me as her tongue explored my mouth. I reached around and held her against me. My renewed erection became trapped against her stomach. She wiggled just a tad, which caused me to moan into her mouth.

Dragging my feet, I began to inch our locked bodies forward. She resisted when the back of her legs touched the side of the bed. She pushed back against me.

Wordlessly, I stepped away, one of her arm-lengths from her. She went to her knees and took hold of my penis again.

She swallowed it slowly but finally completely. She left only a couple of finger lengths exposed between the puff of my pubic bush and her lips. I lowered my arms, pausing to stroke her hair as they dropped. At her shoulders, I rested my hands lightly without placing any weight on her.

She placed her hands on my thighs and used them as leverage as she pushed her upper body away from my lower body. My penis slid along her lips. With just the glans in her mouth, she stopped moving back. Her grip on my body tightened. With a sudden jerk, she threw body forward.

She began to hump me with her mouth, using her whole body to do it.

I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of my penis and her mouth and throat, a series of slurps and gags.

Each time my penis entered her throat, I shuddered. Her tongue dragged against the bottom of my penis as she pulled away and pushed back against me. I reopened my eyes and looked down to her. Her eyes were closed and a long string of drool ran from her lower lip to her leg.

I lifted a hand to her long, brown hair. She paused for a moment and swatted it away with a light push of her hand.

She shoved her head forward with the muscles of her lower abdomen again and again. I thought for a moment to pull her away and throw her on the bed. Something stopped me from doing it; like Jenny’s voice in my head asking me to let her do this for me. Her body language seemed so relaxed but eager and willing to let me finish this way.

I let my eyelids drop, again. The pleasure mounted in the head of my penis. It started as a warm, insistent tingle that preceded a pulse that traveled back to my testicles. Each pulse would lessen the feeling slightly, but not completely and less so each time. With another touch, in just the right way, I’d let go. I ached for it, but she did not touch me that way.

The pressure built up. I needed to have that orgasm, but it would not come. It stayed away like a teasing girl at a church dance. First here and then not just an arm length away, giggling and waiting for just the right words.