91: Fast Forward

"I love you, my little Girl Scout," I whispered as Jen cuddled to me. Alone in the master suite. It was so unusual, but it was what Jen wanted for her birthday.

"Am I a bad Girl Scout?" she asked, a slight quiver in her butt as I stroked her cheeks.

"No, my love. You are a very good Girl Scout. You deserve a merit badge."

"I was so ... I can't believe today what I did that night when you rescued me."

"We were fourteen. What did we know?"

"Nine years ago. Can it really be that long?" I kissed her. Nine years? I was in eighth grade. Jen and Courtney were freshmen. So much had changed. And so little.

When I withdrew my lips from hers, I lowered them to her lush ripe breast and circled her left nipple with my tongue. I squeezed her butt cheek with my right hand.

"I still can't decide if I prefer your incredible breast or your perfect butt," I laughed. "I couldn't do without either."

"Brian," she sighed as she stroked my cock. It was the soft sigh of contentment, not of despair. Jennifer suddenly became very intense as she pushed far enough back to look into my eyes and then look down to where she rubbed my cock against her pussy lips. "Brian, I love you. Yours is the only man's cock that has ever been in my pussy. Or my butt. You know that I've played with the other guys. We're all so close. I sucked Josh. More than once while Cassie and Mary took turns eating me. I've played with Carl and Doug. I even jacked Lionel off once before he and Sugar got serious. But only your cock will ever slide in and out of my vagina. You are all I crave." I smiled at her and chuckled.

"Unless it's made of plastic," I said. She blushed.

"I said 'man's cock.' I can't help that I like to play with women. I like it a lot."

"Are there any in the clan you haven't tasted?"

"None who were willing. I don't force myself on others."

I sucked on her nipple and she held my head against her breast, her breath deepening. We were taking a lot of time for her birthday loving. We both knew that I would eventually be in her pussy, stroking as we neared mutual bliss. But not yet. My hand slid around to the front and I stroked through the soft curls of her pussy. She barbered enough to tuck into her bikini if we went swimming, but she'd never felt the need to shave things. I really didn't mind that at all. Her soft, light brown hair simply got softer as she lubricated.

"I think I'm a lesbian," she whispered. "Playing games with guys is fine. Making love with you is wonderful. But mostly, I'd prefer to be burying my face in a girl's snatch while she licked me to orgasm. I love you and I love making love to you, but you are my only man."

"What is it you like so much, little Girl Scout?"

"Mmm." My finger ran through her slick juices from her perineum to her clit and lightly traced the contours. "I like the smell. I like the taste. I like just opening a woman's folds and looking at the mysteries revealed there. Oh!" I slipped a finger into her as she pressed the head of my cock against her clit and moved it back and forth.

"I like all that, too," I whispered.

"But you know what I like most?" she panted. "I like exploring a woman's sex with my tongue. I think I never got out of infancy when I wanted to put everything in my mouth. It's the texture. The way my tongue just slides along a fold. It's exploring the different parts and seeing her lubricate when I touch certain areas. I like the way she clamps down on my tongue when I thrust into her vagina. I like feeling the little ridge of her pee hole and feeling her thighs vibrate against my ears. I like playing with her clitoral hood and pretending that I can stick my tongue between it and her clit and feeling the changes that come over her clitoris as I squeeze it softly with my lips and suck on it while I tongue her. And then, if I'm in the right position at just the right time, I love to pull my head back a little and touch the side of her clit so I can watch her come. That little extra pressure just where she needs it. And then her juices just flow from her pussy and it flutters open and closed as if it were seeking, searching, inviting me to come into her. And I hold my tongue at her opening just to feel her opening and closing on me while she comes. That's when I wish I had a cock. I wish my clit would grow just long enough that it could enter her channel and feel that pulsing warmth pulling at me. Sometimes, I come, just from watching her."

While Jen spun her tale of lesbian love, I inched my way down her body until my tongue could be deployed in all the things she described. Jen had always had a very light scent, hardly noticeable until I was right down with my nose against her clit. When I thrust my tongue into her, I could feel the fluttering of her muscles and the inevitable draw. I looped around her clit with the tip of my tongue and she gasped. Then I dipped lower and rimmed her asshole, which brought her butt up off the bed and let me grip both cheeks in my hands. Jen went rigid and I lapped up the juices that flowed from her vagina and begged for me to enter her. She tugged gently at my head to bring me back up her body, stopping to kiss her navel and suck each of her nipples again. At last, we were face to face and she licked her own fluids from my face.

"From all you've said, I think I'm a lesbian, too," I whispered. She reached for my cock and lined it up with her opening. She slowly pulled it into herself.

"Yes," she whispered. "But you have a nice long clitoris that can sink into my begging depths and fill me. Fill me. You fill me, Brian. I love you." We rocked back and forth as I slipped in and out of her depths. Her legs came up and locked around my waist, pulling me even deeper into her. "Fill me," she whispered. We were so keyed up by our foreplay that it only took moments in this position for my semen to rush to fill that void deep inside her and she peaked.

"I love you, my precious Girl Scout. I'm so glad to be your male lesbian lover."

"Yes."

We lay in each other's arms, knowing this was only the first round for the night.

"I'm glad my mother has joined your parents as a family. She deserved a grandchild or a dozen."

"And?"

"I won't be giving them to her," Jen sighed. "You know that with you reproducing and now trying to knock up Liz, all the girls in the casa are thinking about what it would be like to have a baby. I thought about it. Maybe it will change for me later in life, but I don't think I'm cut out to be a breeder. I'll love all the little kids in the clan, but I'm not going to add to them."

"Jen, it's never been a requirement on anyone to be a breeder. I hope that doesn't mean we can't keep practicing."

"Silly boy. Of course not. What's great is we can just keep fucking like bunnies and not worry about it," she laughed. She started stroking my cock to see if she could get it back to readiness again. It wouldn't take long. "Courtney, on the other hand..."

"What?"

"Courtney is not a lesbian. She'll play with other girls. She loves me like I love you. But what she really wants is you. If all the rest of the clan, the television shows, and the tribe disappeared, she'd still be with you. Till death do us part," Jen said.

"And you?" I asked.

"I love you, Brian. I love Courtney. I'm not going anywhere. I'm yours at least until my next orgasm!" she laughed. She kept stroking me to full hardness and then rolled over on top of me. "If you ever spank me again, though, make sure I really deserve it."

Okay.

Monday morning an alert went out around the ranch that Sugar was in labor. Her mother, Regina, had been hanging out for two weeks with Casa del Sol. It was hot as blazes and I was glad that Lamar and Lionel had thought far enough ahead to have their home air conditioned.

Lionel had yet to report to a training camp for the NBA. He'd been a second round draft pick for the Miami Heat, but as soon as his contract had been signed, it was traded to the Timberwolves for a first round pick next year and an undisclosed amount of money. The Wolves had managed to get two guards from the Portland Trailblazers in exchange for Lionel's contract. The Blazers had told him not to report because they were working on another deal. Lionel sat at home waiting to find out where he'd eventually report to and drawing against his $450,000 salary.

It was about two o'clock in the afternoon that I heard the bell ringing out in the middle of the yard. Judy and Dawn were out there and when we'd all poked our heads out of our houses or over the fence, as the case might be, Dawn made the announcement.

"Leann Dorie Trane, was born to Sugar and Lionel Trane at 1:37 this afternoon. Mother and daughter are both healthy and happy. Leann weighed six pounds, ten ounces and is twenty-one inches tall already!" We all cheered. Dawn and Judy went to the village square to repeat their announcement. I just loved the fact that we used the town crier system!

Classes started again on Monday the twenty-second. I was right back into the grind. There were a few differences this year. Rhonda was in none of my classes. That sort of sucked. I was going to have to study this stuff alone. And it didn't look easy. My books cost close to $300. I had three classes that met Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The first was Cognitive and Emotional Psychology. While it was technically a psych class, it was taught in the Media Center. The professor was just about as weird as you could imagine a psychology professor to be. It's frightening to think that the mental health of America is in the hands of psych majors! The second class was one I was looking forward to: Communication and Politics. I was anticipating that there would be a lot of political commentary in my show, as well as social commentary. This promised to examine both the theory and the practice. My third class was The Economics of Information. This was a class I was sure I could get something useful out of since it focused on the production, distribution, and pricing of intellectual property. We'd been winging it in that area so far.

The upside of all this was that I got out a little earlier in the evening since the classes were only an hour long. I could actually be home by six-thirty for a normal family meal. The down-side was that for the first time in a year, I had classes on Friday, so no more long weekends.

On Tuesday and Thursday, I had another class that met for a couple hours and involved a lot of group analysis and discussion. It was called Business Strategies of Communication. It was pretty much all case studies of marketing and competitive strategies. Part of what I'd be doing in the near future would be setting the strategy for my show. It would be nice to get a better grounding in what we should be doing.

I came home Monday night from my first three classes with the usual pile of reading. Dr. Z, who was my advisor, was also the Economics of Information professor and had his own unique syllabus. He simply gave the list of books we needed to read and the order of the topics we would discuss. His comment was that we were grad students and could figure out which sections of the books were relevant for the day's discussions. To say we were all pissed is an understatement. And by 'all', I mean the twelve of us who were in his class. There were nowhere near as many people in class at this level as there were in the lower levels.

I was surprised when Rose curled up in my lap after dinner. Naked Rose on my naked lap.

"I know you have reading to do," she started. With her naked boobs right by my lips. I latched onto a nipple and sucked. "Oh, yes!" She grabbed my head in her arms and locked me to her breast, barely giving me space to breathe. "I just love it when you suck on my nipples. Or Rhonda. Or Sam. Or Josh. Or Pam. Oh! You just don't know what that does to me."

Well, I had a pretty good idea what it does to her because I could actually feel a droplet from her pussy drip onto my thigh. She pulled my head away from her breast with a pop and kissed me ferociously.

"We'll make love tonight," she said with finality. "Right now, I know you have reading to do. Why don't you let me read your economics text while you read the others? I'm not sufficiently advanced in media to take the class, but I had enough in my management classes to understand economics. I'm only pursuing my MBA on a part time basis and have just one class this fall. This way, after you've read the economics text, we can have our own discussion group. I should understand this stuff if I'm going to be CEO of our business."

"Yes," I said. "I will make love to you tonight."

"Oh, Brian! I love you. Now read and give me your other textbook."

The first week was going to be spent with every waking hour buried in a book. And often in Rose.

I cut class on Friday. Janet Anderson had spent Thursday night with us and early Friday we drove into Indy to the airport. I was thankful that she had taken care of all our travel arrangements. We had hotel rooms for two nights and would fly back on Sunday evening. Saturday was Whitney's graduation from boot camp at Parris Island, but Friday was family day.

Just a few more hours and I'd have her in my arms again.

We were met by a bus and transported to the base where we watched several demonstrations by the recruits. They had a five-mile run, in formation. Then they were dismissed to shower and reassemble for the parade while we had lunch served in the mess. We all went to the parade deck to watch our Marines march out and take formation in front of us. They were awesome. A sergeant said a few words and then dismissed the platoon. That was our cue to rush out onto the field and find our Marine. She wasn't hard to spot. She stood nearly a head taller than the rest of the female Marines. I hugged Whitney and turned her loose so she could hug her mom. She looked so incredible in her tan dress blouse and dark green slacks. She wore a little pillbox hat with a bill in front. I could see my reflection in her shoes.

There were very few kisses being bestowed on the parade deck, so I restrained myself with just a light peck. I'm sure the picture we made looked like she was greeting a little brother.

We stood and talked. Mostly her mother just kept exclaiming how proud she was. I had to agree. Then Whitney took us over to the short line to meet her drill sergeant. It was sort of formal at first as she made introductions and then we listened to the drill sergeant praise the way Whitney had performed and how pleased he was that she would be going to officer candidate school.

"Sergeant Klaeffer," Whitney said, "this is my master." I looked at her, startled. That hardly sounded like something you would say to a Marine sergeant! Apparently, however, the sergeant knew what she was talking about.