Chapter 9

Hannah had endured during the unusualness of the experience, but needed a break to process her own feelings. Or get away from an insatiably curious teenager. She got up and announced that the laundry wouldn’t do itself. She kissed me and left the room. That left her daughter and me there alone and Harper suddenly wasn’t so full of questions. I thought it was interesting that she got shy without her mother there. She’d never been shy around me at all.

“So,” I said, casually, “what did it feel like to masturbate right next to us?”

“It was crazy,” she sighed. “I felt like I was going to explode into a zillion pieces.”

“So you had an orgasm?”

“I don’t think so,” she said.

“You don’t think so?” I lifted my eyebrows in surprise.

“I wanted to, but I think I was too freaked out.”

“Freaked out by doing it right in front of us,” I deduced.

“I guess so. Being naked in front of you doesn’t bother me. I love how you look at me when I’m naked and Mom’s seen me that way thousands of times. But nobody ever saw me rubbing like that, and I couldn’t get over the idea that your monster thing was going to be where my fingers were. That’s scary, because there’s no way it will ever fit.”

“First off, it’s not a monster. I’m probably quite average in the penis department. If you got frisky with a boy, his would be about the same size.”

“No way. If a boy had one like that it would be pushing out in his pants all over the place, and I don’t see that happening at school.”

“Boys learn how to make things look smaller to avoid embarrassment,” I said. “When the time comes, it will fit. It was made to fit. Mother nature doesn’t make mistakes like that,” I said, sagely.

“When you first put it in her I thought she’d scream for sure,” said Harper. “It looked like you were splitting her open.”

“As you could see, she didn’t scream and it didn’t split her open.”

“Yes, but the sound she made almost made me pee,” said Harper. “It made me feel funny. That’s when I had to start rubbing.”

“I saw your hand in your pants before that,” I said.

“Yes, but all I was doing was pressing. It felt good to push. I can’t explain it.”

“I understand.”

“I wish I didn’t have to wait until I’m seventeen, but at the same time I’m scared to death I’ll chicken out when I finally get to do it.”

I decided not to tell her she might not have to wait as long as she thought she would. Letting her push things back herself seemed like the best way to go.

“You’ll do fine,” I said. “I promise we’ll take things at your pace and only do what you’re comfortable doing.”

“I know. That’s why I’m so glad it’s going to be you.”

With that, she got up and came to make me scoot back from the table so she could sit on my lap and put her arms around my neck. Don’t ask me why I did it, but I gave in to the urge to push my face into her left breast. It confirmed that she wasn’t wearing a bra under her shirt. I’d thought that was the case, but never saw a nipple imprint, so wasn’t sure before that.

“Mmmmm,” I said, moving my face around.

“Uncle Bob!” she sighed. “You’re so naughty.”

“You want me to be,” I said.

Then I bit through her shirt where my lips had felt her nipple. I had to guess a little bit, so I covered a two or three inch area before I closed my teeth, gently.

“Crap you’re naughty!” she gasped.

I leaned back.

“Pull your shirt up and I’ll suck your nipples like I sucked your mother’s,” I offered.

“I thought you didn’t want to fool around,” she said, proving she was sharp, even when things were happening fast.

“You’re right,” I said, coming to my senses. I could feel my cock already getting hard in my pants. “We’ll stop.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to stop.”

“Yes, but you reminded me I should.”

“Are you teasing me?” She looked surprised. “Mom said you were teasing her.”

“I was engaging in foreplay,” I said.

She looked very serious, suddenly and sat there mute for a long time.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I think it’s sinking in that, someday, you’re actually going to do that to me.”

“Only if you want me to,” I said.

She relaxed, then and leaned her face up next to mine.

“I want you to,” she said. “It scares the pee out of me, but I want you to. Now, do you think it would be okay if you kissed me?”

Hannah was a good kisser. Apparently there’s a kissing gene or something and Harper got it. I was dead sure Harper hadn’t spent hours kissing boys, and yet, she was a pro at kissing me. Of course it wasn’t just a friendly peck. We locked lips and hugged each other and just kept it going.

By the time we ended that first kiss, I was hard as stone.

Attraction, passion, and desire always march forward towards the logical (bio-logical?) conclusion in human society, unless there is some artificial barrier to its progress. That’s just now nature works. And since there were very few artificial barriers to slow things down between Harper and me, things just marched right on down the trail. It’s counter intuitive, but on that particular trail the rest “stops” are actually when life is being lived in normal everyday fashion. You’re doing all sorts of things, but the amorous scenic view is up ahead somewhere. You’re moving towards a destination but when you stop there, it will be anything but restful.

The next ‘scenic view’ was arrived at that night, while we all sat on the couch and binge-watched three episodes of Continuum on Netflix. If you’ve never heard of it, the plot line is that a young, beautiful policewoman named Kiera is caught in a time vortex created by a gang of criminals who go back in time to change the past so the future will be like they want it to be. She decides to stop them and bring them to justice so the future doesn’t change. Back in her time, she’d have had all kinds of tech to work with, but now, stuck in the past, she must get involved with old fashioned police types to bring their resources to bear. It’s a fun show and Rachel Nichols, who plays Kiera, is on the same level of hotness as Sandra Bullock. In other words, I’d have been stimulated, even if I didn’t have two luscious women right there with me.

Both of those women were nestled up to me and my arms were around them. It was Harper’s studied opinion that Kiera Cameron and Detective Carlos Fonnegra were obviously attracted to each other and needed to hook up.

“She can’t,” said Hannah. “She’s married.”

“Yes, but that’s all in the future, a future she might never get back to. Right now she’s in the present. She should live in the present.”

“She has values,” said Hannah. “She’s being true to her man. When I was married to your father I appreciated Bob, even loved him in a way, but I would never have slept with him.”

“I get that, but she’s lived in at least three different timelines on the show, right? Wouldn’t it be okay for her to hook up with him in one of those timelines and be all pure and noble in the others?”

“As far as she’s concerned, she’s married in all of them,” said Hannah, doggedly. “I appreciate that about her.”

“Then I’d better have sex with Uncle Bob before you two get married and you change your mind about all this.”

“That’s all you think about these days,” groaned her mother.

“Mom, you had sex with him earlier today. Are you going to have sex with him again tonight?”

“Yes,” I said, grinning.

“It’s not all I think about,” said Hannah.

“And that’s because you get to actually do it. And you know you can do it anytime you want to. I, on the other hand, can only imagine doing it. Plus I’m all full of hormones, as you love to point out, so don’t try to make me feel bad.”

“Fine!” snapped Hannah. “How about I give Bob to you tonight so we can just get this over with and maybe get back to living a normal life!”

“You mean it?” Harper suddenly went rigid under my arm.

I looked at Hannah. I tried to be helpful again by imparting to mother a little information about her daughter.

“She’s actually a little nervous about it,” I said. “Letting her watch turned out to be a lot more educating than we thought it would be. She’s having some second thoughts.”

“No I’m not!” yelled Harper. “Don’t tease me like that, telling me I can do it and then jerking it away from me.”

“I’m not jerking anything away from you,” said Hannah, calmly. “In fact, though I said it in frustration, now that I think about it, maybe it would be a good idea to get this episode in your life resolved. In a way, it’s like what we’ve just been watching. The past, present, and future are causing stress in our lives, so why not deal with it? Like you said, Carlos and Kiera should hook up. Well, now you’re Kiera and Bob is Carlos.”

“I could never be Kiera,” said Harper. “She’s so beautiful and smart and sexy.”

“I think you’re beautiful and smart and sexy,” I said, reaching to squeeze Harper’s right breast.

“Don’t tease me,” she muttered. “I love it when you say things like that, but only if you mean them.”

“I do mean them,” I said. “I’m not teasing you. There’s a whole world full of women out there, but I only want to be with two of them.” I blinked. “Wait. That didn’t come out like I heard it in my brain.”

Hannah laughed and poked me.

“A little Freudian slip, Bob? What amazes me is that I heard you say that and didn’t get jealous.” She leaned forward and peered at her daughter.

“Would it help if you got to experiment a little tonight? Maybe fool around a little, but not too much?”

“Oh, Mom, you have no idea,” gushed Harper.

“I think, perhaps, I do,” said her mother.

Again this was approached in a manner entirely unusual in western society. Usually “making out” happens a little like walking into a pit of quicksand. You know it’s there, but kind of edge into it, a little at a time. If conditions are right, you eventually sink and have a great time. In some situations, it turns out the quicksand is only three feet deep. It’s not the best analogy, but you get the idea. To use another Hollywood offering as an example, think of the character Seven of Nine on Star Trek Voyager. For her, it would be entirely normal to say, “It is now time to move to lesson thirteen of the human sexual relationship curriculum. Lesson thirteen concerns petting and foreplay. Prepare to engage in such activity.”

Of course Harper was not a technologically enhanced, prior-Borg drone with no experience whatsoever in human sexual interactions. Nor was her mother. The irony of that is that things were a little jerky, as they might have been for the normal, human partner Seven of Nine picked to explore lesson thirteen with.

In other words, things proceeded, but not with the relative smoothness of a normal “courtship.”

We adjourned to the bedroom and, for some reason maybe a psychologist might be able to explain, chose Hannah’s bed to play on. That’s all I anticipated, was playing a bit. Then Harper decided she was “all stinky” and had to take a shower first. She didn’t say it, but it seemed obvious to me that if she was “all stinky” then I was as well, so I said, “Good idea, we can take one together.”

That put her over the moon, because it was something she’d never thought about before, and yet it appealed to her instantly.

“I’ll just stay here and wait for you,” said Hannah, sitting on the bed.

“You’re going to ... watch?” Harper’s voice was tiny again.

“You got to watch us. I think it’s only fair I get to watch you.”

“Mom! That’s so kinky!” squealed Harper.

“Said the girl who rubbed one out while she watched her mother and best adult male friend have sex,” said Hannah, drolly.

“Actually, your mother is going to be the referee,” I said. “She’ll make sure I don’t go all animal on you and push things, or hurt you.”

“You’d never hurt me,” scoffed Harper. “And you already promised that we’ll only do what I want to do.”

“That was a promise made with my big head,” I said. “In a few minutes I’m going to be thinking with my little head, which doesn’t have room for many brains.”

“Little head?” Harper was obviously confused.

“The head of his penis, Darling,” said her mother, helpfully.

“Oh!” She looked at the front of my pants. “Is it hard?”

“Actually, not at this point in time,” I said. “I anticipate that changing very quickly, however, especially if we take a shower together.”

“Okay,” said Harper, cheerfully.

Harper, despite her vocal comments about being nervous and scared of the size of my monster penis and all that, did not appear to be worried in the slightest. It was tempting to play with her in the shower and would have been easy because she was primed to have fun. In fact, she was almost desperate to have fun. And that’s why I decided not to do anything serious in the shower. Or maybe I was teasing her to ratchet up her passion. Or maybe I just wanted to move on to the main event. My little head doesn’t pause to reflect on things like that.

To that end, I avoided touching her sexually. By that I mean that, when I washed her, that’s all I tried to do - wash her. I had to wash me, too, because she couldn’t keep her hands off my stiff penis.

“Why are you rushing?” she complained, when I turned off the water and pushed her out of the cubicle.

“I thought you wanted to have sex,” I said, artlessly.

“I do, but that was fun. I could have done that a lot longer.”

“We can take a shower any time you like,” I said. “Actually, this is your first lesson. You need to understand men are built differently than women, and right now my body wants to move things along.” I neglected ... on purpose, I admit ... to acknowledge that I knew women often needed a lot more foreplay than men did to get to the stage of passion I was already at.

“Ooooo,” she cooed, as she dried off with a fluffy towel. “You want to do it!”

There was some irony happening here. Her juvenile characterization of things actually calmed me down a little. Harper’s definition of “doing it” had changed from simple foreplay to ... well... doing it. What Hannah had authorized, however, was only the former definition ... to “fool around a little”, as I recalled. For any head in the room other than my little one, that meant not shoving my randy prick as deep in Harper’s teenaged pussy as I could, so I needed to calm down anyway. That’s how complicated intergenerational sex can be. In one situation, some quiet fooling around might lead to intercourse, while in another one, when the girl excitedly says, “Oh, let’s do it! the guy’s erection could wilt, because she just reminded him of how young she really is.

Not that I wilted. I didn’t. But the caveman in me backed off a little.

Harper skipped into the bedroom and tackled her mother, who was sitting on the bed. She was reading a book, which suggested she thought the shower would take a lot longer than it did. There was some squawking and giggling as Hannah was bowled over by her exuberant, naked daughter and, quite suddenly, the idea of a threesome didn’t seem so foreign. If anything my prick got harder and the urge to fuck something got stronger again.

I used that phrase intentionally - fuck something - because that’s how I felt at that moment. But it wasn’t as lacking in romance as it sounds. I did want to fuck something, but “something” could only be defined as either Hannah or Harper. I wanted to breed them both in those few seconds, taking my pleasure with them and leaving my legacy in their wombs. It was a very animal kind of feeling, but not with any thought of forcing either one of them. It’s just how I felt.

Of course I didn’t growl and leap upon them. My civilized self was stronger than the part of me that was still more in tune with hunting mastodons. I watched them roll around, hearing them laugh, and stroked my bone firmly and slowly. At some point Harper saw what I was doing and rolled apart from her mother.

“Stop!” she yipped. “That’s my job!”

I gave my rod a few more strokes and then removed my hand.

“Make room for me on the bed,” I ordered.

Hannah actually got off the bed, and I approached her. I took her face in my hands and kissed her.

“I love you,” I said. “Are you sure you want this to happen?”

“Of course not,” she said. “But we’ve already been over it. I actually do feel better that it’s you than some random, horny boy.”

“I have to admit my motor is revving,” I said. “You may have to moderate things.”

“Okay,” was all she said.

With that I turned to Harper, who was standing on her knees on the bed. She looked luscious.

“You’re one lucky girl,” I said.

“Ha!” she laughed, thinking I was bragging. “Until recently you haven’t had sex for years and years. I’m surprised there isn’t rust on your thing.”

“One, it’s not a ‘thing’. It is a very important part of me that, maybe some day, you’ll get to know a lot better. Two, that’s not why I said you were lucky. I’m quite sure you could find a man with a more impressive penis and who is a master lover. I said you were lucky because your mother loves you enough to let you do this.”

“Oh,” said Harper, who stopped smiling. “I know that.”