Chapter 2

I awoke to a strange but repetitious “ticking” noise. Blinking at the shadows coming through the Venetian blinds I realized that something was hitting the window. At first, I thought it might have been a Mockingbird in heat that was pecking at its shadow as they often do, thinking the reflection in the glass is another bird. Looking out the window I saw the shadowy figure of a woman stooping over. She was dressed in just a white t-shirt that allowed me to see the bottom of her bare ass in the moonlight. She was picking something off the ground. When she stood again and threw what she’d picked up I realized that it was Rebeccah. The pebble ticked against the window. Opening the window, I loudly whispered, “Is something wrong Rebeccah?”

“I need to talk with you,” she hissed back.

“Why didn’t you just knock on my door?” Putting her finger to her lips she shushed me and pointed to her chest and silently mouthed, “Open the door” then shrugged her shoulders and mouthed, “Please?”

Pulling on the Levi’s I’d hung over the chair—I sleep naked—I walked quickly to the door. Rebeccah was there in slippers and her t-shirt which barely covered her ass. Barging past me she closed the door behind her. Turning to me, she looked as if she was frustrated or angry. “I didn’t want to wake up Mom.”

“So, what’s up?” I asked, trying to mask my concern that something might be wrong.

Acting as if she were frightened, she threw her body into mine, wrapped her arms around me, and pushed her tummy against mine, making sure her pubic bone was pushing against mine. “I can’t sleep Morgan,” she said, wiggling her tummy harder into mine. “Mom and I were talking about you. I’ve been thinking about what she and I talked about ever since.”

Still groggy I was trying to make sense of why she was there and what the trouble was. “I don’t understand Rebeccah. What were you and your mom talking about that is upsetting you so much?”

“She ... um wants to get to um ... know you better.”

“We’re neighbors Rebeccah. It was genuinely nice of your mom and you to have me over to dinner. I would like to be friends with your mom ... as well as yourself.”

The fog was clearing. I eased her arms off of me. “It seems strange that you’re telling me that your mom wants to get to know me better yet you’re the one who’s been throwing pebbles at my window, waking me up in the middle of the night, and hugging me like you were scared of something.” But the way she was massaging my belly with hers I knew scared wasn’t what was motivating her.

I could make out her pouting face by the reflection of the parking lot lights coming through the window. It irritated me. Other than returning her flirting stares I didn’t do anything to suggest something like this. I was also uncomfortable standing so close to this young girl with a raging hard-on pushing against my Levi’s. In self-defense, I suggested, “Why don’t we go into the kitchen and sit down?” I made sure she was sitting across the table from me. When I sat down, I said, “Okay Rebeccah let’s see if we can get to the bottom of this.”

Mom needs to be with a man Morgan. But she is SO damned SHY. After being with you tonight I was hoping that she could be with you, you’re so nice.”

It felt odd that she was there talking about such a thing, odder still that I should answer the way I did. “I realize that your mom is shy Rebeccah, that’s why I didn’t press that issue with her tonight,” I spoke to her like a man who was confident with women, not one who had rarely asked a girl or a woman even for a date. Actually, with Krissy being so shy I was a fish out of water. It was usually the women who did the asking ... like my wife, the woman on the China cruise, and the woman on the European cruise. Though had Rebeccah not been there, Krissy would have made some move to show that she wanted to be with me. Even I would have. I was certainly horny enough.

“I didn’t suggest anything to her for two reasons. First, I’m not a man to kiss on the first date. Second, you were there, and I wouldn’t have known what to say or do in a circumstance like that.” It seemed odd that I was talking with this young girl in confidence as if I were in college plotting with a sorority girl who’s a friend, I wanted to date but was afraid to ask, asking her help to fix the two of us up.

“I’m glad I was there Morgan. I’m protective of my mom. She’s been through a lot. I can see how nice you are, and Mom likes you. I...” She was letting her thoughts get the best of her and caught herself before she said too much.

I wanted to know more about Krissy. Even though she wasn’t the kind of woman to whom I was ordinarily attracted. But I’d been ogling her out of my office window long enough to wonder if she was as good in bed as she looked like she might be. “When you came back from your walk this morning,” I said, “I couldn’t miss that you were walking arm and arm. And you were laughing. You have a really good relationship with your mom. I noticed the same thing when I was with you two tonight. It’s like you are friends rather than mother and daughter.”

“Ever since I was fourteen after Daddy and Aunt Martha died in the car accident, she’s been like a best friend to me. There aren’t many secrets that we keep from one another.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear about your dad and your aunt, Rebeccah. Is she ... I mean was she your mother’s sister?”

“She and Mom were twins. We all lived together.”

I had to think hard about that one. “That’s unusual. Did you live in another place ... I mean...”

“You mean because we only have two bedrooms in the apartment?”

“Um ... yes. Where did she...?”

“Sleep?” I nodded. “We were different from any other family that I know Morgan. Aunt Martha slept with Mom and Daddy?” I tried not to stare and let her know that I was shocked. “We kept it a tight secret.”

“Were you close to your Aunt Martha too?”

She giggled. “She’s the one who taught me about boys. She kept telling me that I should try to go out with older boys ... that they were um ... better ... um ... lovers. She said, ‘As soon as you’re old enough Hun you should find yourself an older man.’”

This was more information than I ever thought I would be hearing tonight, particularly from this twenty-year-old girl-woman. It was more than I thought I had a right to know. Once again, my penis turned to iron. “Was your daddy older than your mom and your aunt Martha?”

“He was ten years older. How old are you, Morgan?” I told her I was fifty. “He would have been fifty-one if it hadn’t been for the accident.”

I knew I shouldn’t have asked the question. But the way it was going was a night of True Confessions. “So did you ever take your aunt up on her advice?”

Without any hesitation, she replied, “I remember how much fun they had in their bedroom. I never saw anything but sometimes I would hear them whooping it up in there. I was twelve when my curiosity got the best of me, and I started listening with a glass up against the wall. I felt like a spy hearing words that I was not allowed to say and words I didn’t even understand. The wild emotions they were expressing excited me in a way I didn’t understand either. When I started my periods, I started getting feelings inside me which I began to connect with what I thought was going on in their bedroom. What they were doing in the bedroom before I started menstruating had no physical effect on me. But afterward, what I heard through the wall made my nipples itch and ache and my cunny felt like it wanted something inside it that I didn’t understand. It was then that I started masturbating—A LOT. It was during that time when Manny—a boy at school—started talking with me about going down to the boiler room to um... ‘Explore’.”

“Manny got interested in me because he liked my boobs, they were getting bigger than most of my classmates. Manny was in my class. A lot of the guys and some of my friends made fun of him because he wasn’t really smart. He’d flunked a couple of times, but he was nice to me and was cute. His father was the janitor at the school who had a desk in the boiler room. There was also an old army cot down there that he said his dad sometimes took naps in. One day Manny convinced me to sneak down to the boiler room. I was surprised to see the cot there. There was another cot in the nurse’s room where sometimes a student who got sick would go to lie down. When we got down to the boiler room Manny opened the bottom drawer of his father’s desk and pulled out a deck of cards. We sat down on the cot, and he started turning over the cards and showing them to me. When I saw the pictures of naked women and men having sex, I couldn’t even explain the feelings I had, except that I knew what was going on in the bedroom that my parents and Aunt Martha shared.

I’d never been kissed by a boy before Morgan. But when Manny started kissing me and feeling me up, I went wild. I didn’t even realize that he had taken my panties off. But I knew that his finger was inside me. And I was stunned when he took his erection out of his pants—it was so hard and huge that I couldn’t believe it. But I couldn’t keep from grabbing it with my hand and moving the outer skin up and down. With what I had seen on the cards I understood what was going on in my parent’s bedroom. From the pictures, I knew that penises were designed to go inside a vagina. But from what I saw of Manny’s and how big it felt in my hand I doubted that he could ever fit inside mine. But I wanted it to.

It hurt badly when he first put it in ... tore something inside me and I bled. He cleaned himself off and wiped me clean with a Kleenex from his father’s desk. After that, it stopped hurting and all I wanted him to do was fuck me. He came fast but he told me to suck him, and he would get hard again. At first, I didn’t want to put that slimy, nasty thing in my mouth. But the more I looked the more it appealed to me. And when I put it in my mouth, I liked the musky taste and smell of him. And I loved how the wetness of my vagina tasted and smelled.” Exhausting her short story Rebeccah became quiet.

“Did your mom and Aunt Martha know?” I asked.

“Uh-huh, I told them.”

“Did your dad?”

“No. He wanted me to stay a virgin, at least ‘til I got out of school. But once Manny got his penis inside me, we went down to the boiler room every day. After a couple of weeks, he told his friend Bruce about it. I was using the cot with Manny one day and Bruce walked in, and I started doing it with him too. I expected a lecture from both my mom and Aunt Martha, but they just smirked at each other and told me to be careful ... said that I should always make the guys use a condom. They put me on the pill and told me that I should not do it with too many boys, to be selective ... that if people found out that I wasn’t they would think I was a slut.”

“So, they weren’t pissed off at all?”

“Un uh, the way they would look at each other and get those amused smiles on their lips I got the feeling that they might have done it a lot when they were young too,” I asked Rebeccah how many boys she’d been with. “Five,” she said. “Except Manny, they were all my age, even Bruce.”

“Was your Aunt Martha shy like your mom?”

“Un uh, she was completely different. She knew Daddy before Mom did. Daddy sold women’s clothing. He would set up his line in a showroom in a hotel for a week and have buyers in. Aunt Martha was his assistant, they traveled together. She introduced Mom to him, and they both went on sales trips together until Mom got pregnant with me and they got married. Aunt Martha was just always there.”

“And Krissy didn’t have any trouble with your aunt traveling with your dad?”

“No way. Mom always wished she could travel with them after she had me, but she said that Aunt Martha knew what her role with the buyers was. He didn’t want Mom to get involved with them the way Aunt Martha did.

As I was wondering what she meant by “involved” my suspicions were confirmed when Rebeccah said, “Mom told me that Aunt Martha was often “bait” for some of the buyers.”

“What did you think of that,” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I was doing it with Manny and Bruce at the time. I liked sex with them. Because Mom and Aunt Martha kept telling me that I should find a guy older than them I thought it would be fun to see what the buyers were like. Mom didn’t say the same thing, but I know she was thinking about it too.”

Reaching for my hand Rebeccah squeezed it. When I started to pull it away from hers, she said. “Please?” and squeezed my hand more tightly. “Do you think you’re going to go to bed with my mother Morgan?”

I still couldn’t get over how forward this twenty-year-old female was. She must have taken after her aunt Martha. “That depends upon Krissy, Rebeccah,” I said.

She asked, “Do you think you might ever go to bed with ME?” By this time, I wasn’t shocked by her question, but I was surprised that she asked it. Her eyes were glowing like embers in a late-night campfire and her body language was all squirmy.

“Is that why you threw pebbles against my window?”

“I came to talk with you about Mom.”

“And?”

“Dammit Morgan,” she said in a frustrated outburst, “you were staring at my boobs and crotch all night.” With her nostrils flaring she paused. “I could see that you were turned on. Whenever you stood up you had that big bulge in your Levi’s.” With a chuckle of wonder and curiosity, she added, “From what I could see you seem to be bigger than Manny or Bruce.”

DAMN, I thought she sure has the mind of an older, well-experienced woman. The head of my cock was uncomfortable against the coarse fabric of my Levi’s. Having denied all through dinner and the rest of the evening that Rebeccah was of interest to me I knew that what was going to happen was inevitable. “Your Mom was pretty hot herself Rebeccah. I went there for HER, remember? I had a hard-on because of HER.”

With a sarcastic sneer, she said, “The Beacham women (her mother’s family name) are too confusing for you, you poor old man. And you haven’t once tried to convince me to go back home and go to bed.” Putting her tongue in her cheek she added, “And with all this talk you’ve got my juices dripping down my legs. Just maybe you’re the older man that Mom and Aunt Martha were talking about me running into someday.”

With a hypnotic look in her eyes, she blurted, “I’ll do just about anything to find out.” Dropping to her knees she shuffled over to where I was sitting, pressed her breasts into my knees, and laid her head on my lap. She was more than twenty years younger than me; a reality that I felt carried with it a responsibility to act in an honorable way. But I wasn’t a pervert stalking her. I had done nothing to encourage her, and she was an adult. The sexual pull of this young woman with her head on my lap was so strong that I was almost gritting my teeth to deny her. She wasn’t a reticent woman like her mother ... she was aggressive like her aunt Martha: like the two women on the cruises who were fully aware of what they were doing, intent on having their way with me. She seemed to me like my wife Connie, inwardly on fire and outwardly hungry. And here she was preparing to use her mouth on me in a way I had not even thought about earlier in the evening. I wanted to help her undo my belt and fast-track her into what she wanted to do.

When I thought, the hell with it, we’re both viably sexual human beings I was already in a euphoric state. “Not yet sweetie,” I cajoled. While the women in my life always got me to this point, I always took control. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be teaching you things.” Reaching for her hand I took it into my grasp I could see the emotion glistening in her eyes. Helping her up I tenderly kissed her lips and hugged her as I said, “I guess it’s time to get down to the lesson Rebeccah.”

Leading her back into my bedroom I switched the bedside lamp to dim and turned her to face me. Tugging at the hem of her T-shirt I pulled it up over her body and off her. “Raise your arms Rebeccah.” Pulling it over her head and off her arms I dropped it on the floor. Giving her an appreciative smile, I said, “You’re gorgeous, sweetie.”

“Ooh Morgan,” she cooed, “this is so HOT.” She grasped one hand and created a space between us by flattening her other against my chest, “Are you going to get naked too?”

I worked the metal button of my Levi’s open and zipped them down. Her eyes, now wide saucers, never left the specter of my thick, seven-and-a-half-inch penis which quivered and pranged for conquest. With both hands she reached for it and in child-like wonder grasped it, her lips oohing but not making a sound other than the whisper of air escaping through the tiny oval aperture in her lips. As she lifted her face to mine, she seemed like a little girl who had just opened a new Christmas toy.

Leaning down I kissed her. She’d kissed enough to open her lips wide, giving tongue and accepting mine. Her body seemed to flow in the kind of rhythm that a Cobra would respond to a snake charmer’s flute. Gently prying her fingers from my erection, I clutched each cheek of her bottom, found the vee of her legs with my phallus, and grazed her vulva with the top of my shaft. As we continued our tongue-tussling kiss I pulled her more tightly against me, feeling the seeping wetness of her clam painting the shaft of my cock.

In the throes of my tongue-snaking kiss and clutching her ass the lotion-like slide of my shaft against her nether wetness brought forth, “This is heaven, Morgan.” Our lips blended and we breathed in sharp gouts as air hissed into my nose and out of hers.

Trying to open her labia she spread her legs. It was like she created a bun for the hotdog of my penis then closed her legs and ground her clit on the top of my hard shaft. The clutch and shudder of her body caused air to blast from both of our noses which made us break our now sloppy kiss. In the tiniest possible voice, she warbled, “I can’t BELIEVE what just happened.” It was the first non-penetrated, man-created orgasm she had ever experienced.

Almost choking me with her wild embrace, she lunged and fanatically wrapped her legs around my waist. In our enthusiastic exclamations of urgency and cries of release, I groped for my cock, sliding its glans passionately in her gash to lube it. Urgently I searched for the entrance of her young cunt. With a primal gasp, I speared at the “holy of holies” while she squealed with anticipation.