Chapter 14

Cam had continued her slow but inexorable push to make me comfortable with intimacy. About a week ago, she had taken off her top after I had gone to sleep and I woke up with her breasts pressed against my side. The next night, she completely ignored my protests from that morning and did the same thing!

Three nights later she came out of the bathroom, not even bothering to wear the top to bed and then take it off. No, she came out topless and when I protested, she ignored my sputtering, red-faced complaints with an eye roll and climbed into bed, silencing me with a kiss. And tongue. Tongue.

Tonight, she came out of the bathroom with nothing at all on. Not a stitch. I was ready though and had psyched myself up for this. I was not going to freak out. I watched as she sashayed into the bedroom from the bath and struck a pose.

If I ignored the flutters in my stomach and my mental seizure at the thought of what she wanted to happen, and tried to look at things objectively, she was gorgeous. She was short, just a couple of inches over five feet, and had a very athletic shape. She had been working out with me, swimming religiously and you could tell.

Her hair was an odd cut, being almost to the skin on one side but longer on the other, touching her shoulder in front and, as you passed further back, it got shorter until it merged again with the short hair. As far as I can tell, there wasn’t another hair on her body below her eyebrows.

Her arms and shoulders were smoothly muscled and her breasts, barely a handful, stood proudly on her chest with the nipples standing at attention. Her abs were visible, rippling as she moved to another pose, this one showing off her firm buttocks and the muscles in her strong thighs.

Silently she came to bed, sliding under the sheet and melding her body to mine. She was warm and smooth and smelled of soap and something indefinable. I was still watching her, fascinated by the calculation I saw in her eyes, the concentration on her face and the tension in her body. She was up to something other than just displaying her beautiful body to me.

“Jacques, you must take off your clothes as well. Tonight, we sleep together as god intended. I want to feel your heart beat, your skin against mine. Come now, you know where this was going, my love. All these weeks, I have been very patient. Please, for me?”

Okay, so Dean would say I was whipped, but that is not strictly true. Not yet anyway.

I could do this. Keeping my mind on what I would need to sail the E² down through the Panama Canal and up to San Diego, I stripped off my shirt and let my shorts drop. I sat back down on the bed with my back to Cam. She moved and embraced me from behind, her firm breasts and hard nipples hot against my back, her breath tickling my ear.

“You are beautiful, my love. So very handsome and, after finally seeing what I have been feeling in the mornings, I feel very lucky indeed. Come, mon loup, lay back and let me feel you against me. Let me feel your weight against me, I have waited so long and I don’t know that I can wait longer.”

I don’t know what happened. No, really. I don’t remember laying down, I just remember trying to disconnect a bit, not to think about it. It was my bits. My parts down there, not anyone else’s. Mine. For so long I had denied its existence except when I had to pee. I know that makes no sense. I know it.

I know that if I described to you what I was thinking, what went through my head, you’d think I was absolutely insane. You ... you don’t have to understand but I am going to try. I am going to try to explain it because Cam deserves to understand. She deserves to know that I am not rejecting her.

Before puberty, it didn’t matter because what was between my legs was so small and innocuous that it was inoffensive to everyone. If I were to streak down the street, people would roll their eyes. When puberty hit, it began to change. Hair grew and the thing down there started to get bigger. It would act differently too, doing strange things at the worst times.

And when I looked, really looked, I was terrified. What I saw was what had caused me such pain. I saw what was used to hurt me, torment me. I saw what was displayed to my horrified nine-year old eyes, covered in my own blood and feces, after it had been used to cause the most horrific pain I had ever felt. It was the thing with which I was to be tortured again and again, until I was that mindless meatbag waiting for the final cut.

Cam, tears on her face, kissed me over and over, not apologizing or telling me that I was wrong, but accepting my fear, telling me she loved me and that she would be there, she would help.

We slept like that, naked together, Cam as much on top of me as she was on the mattress. Every time I moved, she would wake and kiss me, tell me how much she loved me.

I woke in the morning to the most amazing sensation, my entire body felt like it was overwhelmed and my strength was pouring out through my middle. It was unlike anything I had ever felt before, unlike anything I had even imagined.

When my eyes opened and I localized the pleasure, I started to hyperventilate, my hands reaching down and feeling the soft hair, the softer skin of my bedmate. When I realized what she must have been doing, it was all I could do to make it into the bathroom before becoming violently ill.

Cam was understanding, thankfully, because that might have been very insulting to her. Instead she simply brushed her teeth while handing me my own toothbrush. When she was done, she kissed my cheek and skipped out of the bathroom.

At breakfast, she whispered in my ear, “You must separate the now from the past. So, today, think about how good you felt as you woke up and concentrate on that. Concentrate on how my lips felt. Tonight, I want to show you how to touch me.”

Something about that thought, about her soft, warm breath in my ear and her scent in my nostrils, gave me an erection that didn’t horrify me. Of course, it was hidden away in my trousers, but still.

After school, the hours of day I can’t really remember, I was a little reluctant to go home but I knew it was just my insecurities doing the thinking for me. What happened that morning was ... amazing and disturbing but, the more time passed between then and now, the more amazing it seemed.

We didn’t even make it to dinner, Cam seeming to float around the house dressed in almost nothing at all, all giggles and see-through nighties. She waited until I had done my homework and then practically dragged me upstairs to my ... okay, let’s be honest here, our, room.

“Sit, Jacques, for just a moment. This morning, I was selfish. I dreamed about doing that to you and I am afraid I rushed things. I should have stuck to my plans, but I have decided I want you to think about how that felt. I want you to remember how that felt as we move back on track.”

Not having a clue what her plan was and why we were not on, or back on, track, I did what men have done through the ages when not knowing what to say. I nodded.

She smiled brilliantly, held out her hands and pulled, which was comedic since she weighed about a third of what I weighed. Still, I knew what she wanted so I stood. When she turned us around so she was backed up to the bed, then dropped my hands, I remembered what she had said at breakfast.

“Jacques, look at me, cherie. Listen to my voice and just do as I ask, and all will be wonderful. Now, I want you to undress me, Jacques, but you cannot simply peel my clothes off as if it were the skin on an orange. You caress the skin, you pet and touch, you kiss and tickle with your tongue, Jacques. It is the journey that is important.”

I nodded, keeping my mind on her instructions, not letting myself get ahead or to be distracted. I reached up and ran the back of my fingers across her soft cheek and was rewarded when she turned her head to kiss them. Down her neck I moved, slowly, just letting the tips of my fingers brush her skin.

Dipping under one of the thin straps that held up the diaphanous top, I urged it off her shoulder and let it collapse, sliding down to her bicep. My hand followed, my palm exploring the roundness of her shoulder before pulling back so it was just the tips of my fingers again and they were dipping into the hollow formed by her collar bone and finally, to the base of her throat.

She was enjoying this, I could tell by the way she was breathing and how her breath would catch at each new area I touched. Her pupils were dilated and her nostrils flaring, even before I changed hands at the hollow of her throat and let my other hand continue the journey.

My right hand traveled to the side of her neck, up along the warm, pulsing vein to the underside of her jaw, then swept around the back to circle her ear and dip, just for a fraction of a second, into the delicate shell. Then it was back out and plunging down only to be caught by her collarbone, which directed my fingers back up to the second strap and her alabaster shoulder.

When the second strap fell, gravity took over and the soft material, so thin it might as well have been transparent, began the inexorable slide towards the floor, catching only momentarily on the hard nubs of her nipples.

Cam gave a little whimper, almost a catch in her breath that made the hair on my arms stand on end. I could smell something now, earthy, sweet, warm and inviting and, for the first time, my mind actually identified what I had scented many times before with Cam. She was aroused and that scent, that was her. That was her most intimate places, preparing her, readying her, for this, for me!

This time it was my breath that caught, my heart that beat faster. So many little things she had done. So many things she had said or hinted, they all flooded back to me in that moment and I had an inkling of how obtuse I had been! Sweet, loving, caring Cam had been a woman who wanted a man all this time. She had wanted me!

I couldn’t resist. For the first time, for the only time, I pulled her to me and pressed my lips to hers, tasted her with my tongue because I wanted to, not because I thought I should, or because I thought I had to, but because I couldn’t think of a thing I wanted more.

She moaned into my mouth and it was an electric shock down my spine. I had been so stupid!

When she pushed against my shoulder, pushing me away and putting space between us, I thought I had screwed up, done something wrong. The smile on her face was so bright that I was confused! When she grabbed the back of my head and pulled it down to her breast, I smiled as I opened my lips and suckled. That I could do. I had seen that, read about it.

“Lick, nibble, suck, tease me, Jacques. My nipples are so sensitive my love!” And I did. I sucked on them, pulling them out away from her breasts with my lips. I licked around and over them, marveling at the texture and the firmness, the shape and even the taste of her skin. I nibbled, letting my teeth barely graze them at first.

Then at her urging, I bit down just the tiniest bit, experimenting with more pressure, more and less flesh until she was squirming under me and her breath was coming in gasps. Back and forth, anything not being tasted was being caressed, touched, squeezed. When she stiffened under me, thrusting up against me, I realized that we had fallen to the bed and I lay atop her, only my elbows keeping me from crushing her.

She gave out a muffled scream as she pressed up against me, biting her lip to keep the scream inside, her whole body shaking.

When I slowed, unsure of what to do next, of where to go with this, her hands released my head and landed on my shoulders, pushing me downwards. Somehow, as we had played, her form-fitting boy shorts had disappeared and I found the source of that intoxicating scent.

Her lower lips were red and swollen. Where before she had a smooth, but pronounced mound with a visible, but not prominent crease, now she had a flower. It had swollen and opened itself, spreading wider until I could see the pinkness. Another set of lips was visible and, as I explored, fascinated, I found the opening that could only be ... all the words I knew were so clinical or were too crude!

I kissed and licked, sucking first one set of lips and then the other. I even let my tongue dip inside, but she wasn’t having that. I could tell I hadn’t hurt her, but her hands in my hair were tugging, steering, pulling until ... ah, there it was.

I had read about the female anatomy, just as I had read about the male anatomy, and knew approximately where everything should be. Knowing and experiencing are two different things!

Her clitoris was not at all hard to find, not hiding behind a hood or having to be gently teased out where it could be touched. Oh no, her clitoris was standing proud, begging to be noticed, demanding to be loved! When I let the tip of my tongue trace around it, flicking and feeling it, Cam went wild.

Both hands dug deep into my hair, her nails in my scalp and her legs came up, her ankles crossed behind my neck and her thighs locking my head in place as she shuddered and crushed her clit and her ... pussy, to my already soaked face. I was little more, at that point, than a place for her gyrating hips to rub against, but I did my best anyway, managing to capture her clit and give it a little suck while flicking it with the tip of my tongue.

I thought I was going to die. I was actually worried for a couple of moments. She lifted her hips so high, pushed so hard against my shoulders with her thighs and pulled so hard on my hair that I was actually wondering if she was strong enough to break my neck.

When she collapsed, boneless on the bed, I was able to gasp in some air and slowly, concerned, stretch my neck to get rid of the strain. My face was dripping wet and, when I ran my hand over my chin, it came away covered in ... in Cam. My nostrils were so full of her scent that it was all I could smell.

Her face was relaxed and the smile was quite unlike anything I had ever seen on her before. She crooked a finger, beckoning me to come higher and, when my face was beside hers, her tongue flicked out and she tasted herself on my face, giggling.

“I taste good on you, Jacques. Thank you for a most wonderful orgasm, cherie, I have been so ... wound up for weeks. I hope it was not too horrible for you.”

“It was ... it was unbelievable, Cam. It was exciting and appalling and wonderful and animal and electrifying. I have never been so excited in my life, beautiful lady.”

“Oh, Jacques, my love, you make me feel so good. You are excited, no? I can feel you, hot and pulsing against me.” she said quietly, watching my face.

I had been ignoring how I was reacting, not wanting to consider it, not wanting to spoil things. But, and this was more surprising than anything else tonight, I didn’t seem to mind. I mean, I wasn’t feeling like I had to do something to make it go away, and I didn’t even feel nauseous.

I don’t think I wanted to push things, mind you, but even not hating it was a big step!

“Jacques, do not dwell on it. I want to show you something else. What you did with your lips and your tongue, when you pleasured me, it was fantastic. So far, my wonderful lover, you have given me a small orgasm with your lips and tongue on my breasts. You have given me un grande orgasm with your lips and tongue on la chatte ... on my pussy. There are other ways too, and I will teach you, yes?”

“Yes, Cam. Teach me, but be patient with me.” I asked, thrilled but scared.

“Give me your right hand, Jacques. Now, let me have control ... feel that? You have tasted that and it is very good but feel lower. There, do you feel that? When I am excited, and I am very excited by you, I get mouiller, um, how you say ... wet! I get very wet and you can feel how slippery. I hope you do not mind the taste and scent?”

“I like that very much!” I told her, licking my lips and grinning when she giggled.

“Now, make a loose fist, Jacques, and give me just one finger. Feel that? Would you like to see? Good, scoot down, cherie, and look. There, that is where la queue goes, where la foutre will go to make a baby, yes? Make sure your nails are clean and smooth, always, but slide one finger. Ummm ... yes, Jacques. Feel how hot and wet it is?”

It was fascinating to see my finger disappear inside and the obvious pleasure she seemed to be getting from the action. She directed me to turn my hand up and then to crook my finger, searching for a rough spot. When I found it, her hips twitched and she laughed.

“Jacques, were you to lick here, and tap there at the same time? The effect is considerable!” she told me with a laugh that became a short shriek when I did just that. When I captured her clit with my lips and teased it while adding a second finger to tap on that spot, she began vibrating, her hips bouncing off the mattress so that I had to hold her with my other hand. When she came this time, it was not as explosive as the last one, but seemed to last longer.

When she settled again and shoved me away, I knew enough to stop and to move up, cuddling her to my chest. The tears and sobs freaked me out, but she held on to me so I just did what I could to comfort her.

When she had calmed and the tears stopped, I tried to find out what had gone wrong, what I had done, but she just laughed with a little hiccup.

“Sometimes it is not tears of sadness, but simply release. Strong emotion can make a woman cry, even if it is good, my lover. And it was oh, so good. I waited for you for months, loving you, wondering if it was right. It was so right, my love, so very right. I am so glad I waited.”

Okay. Yeah, I pretty much had no idea what she was talking about, but I knew she had to have her own demons and if this helped, then I was a happy man. I had asked but she had never wanted to talk about what she had endured. I offered to pay for counseling, or to take her to see a priest, anything she could want but her answer was the same.

If this helped, in any way, shape or form, then I was okay with some tears.

We took our showers and I changed the sheets before we slept that night. I was perfectly comfortable with her naked body against me and was smiling at that thought as I drifted off.

In the morning, Cam slept in, but she had a smile on her face so I just left her in bed as I got ready for school. Only two weeks left, so we were mostly studying for finals. Summer was around the bend and Cam had said that, “Of course, silly boy,” she was coming along. Dean went where I went so that was pretty much a given.

Speaking of that, he had not had a vacation since he started working for me, not a real one, and he was refusing to take one that summer either. I knew Dave took vacations, so maybe he would talk some sense into Dean while we were with Jake that summer. Maybe the two of them could take turns? Something to think about anyway.

After school, Cam glared at me after my welcome home kiss.

“You did not wake me?”

“You looked very cute, with a smile on your face, so I didn’t have the heart.” I admitted, getting a little blush from her.

“You must wake me for a kiss at least. You need to know that I love you every day.” she proclaimed, stomping her cute little foot. I thought that was a bit ridiculous but, as little as I knew about women, I knew better than to actually say that. So, what did I do?

“Yes dear.”

Gak. I know right? I guess I am whipped. I am kind of okay with it though.

The first time we actually made love was a surprise. I know, I know, it had been coming for months and I was surprised? Well...

She had woken me with oral sex twice more, each slightly less traumatic. I mean, not the act, the waking realization and reaction. Then she changed tactics... ‘soixante neuf’ she called it. She got me involved in my new favorite pastime, making her whole-body quiver, but had me laying on the bed with her kneeling over my face.

I thought that was the coolest because when she came, she would collapse down and I could play with her butt. Sounds childish, but I loved her butt. I would stroke it and squeeze it and kiss it and rub my cheek on the soft skin there. So what, if we were at the mall!

Okay, I kid, but I thought about it.

Anyway, she was riding my face, really grinding down on my chin when I felt her lips around me. I went from fully engaged, chasing her clitoris as she moved and jerked around to frozen and spurting in, I don’t know, five seconds?

And ... Nothing. No reaction. I mean, no bad reaction, because I had lots and lots of good reactions.

Cam was ecstatic and turned to kiss me, my stuff still in her mouth and on her lips and I am afraid that didn’t go quite as well. It was only pure luck that I launched her in the direction of the padded leather headboard the decorator had picked out instead of, say, the television on the far wall.

She bounced right back though, no pun intended, apologizing and saying she would never do that again and it was okay, I wasn’t violently ill or anything, just really, really creeped out. It took some time, just lying beside her, talking and kissing, after she had gone and rinsed with mouthwash, for me to relax.

Cam had been laying on top of me, her chin on her forearms, her forearms on my chest. I kept imagining her looking up my nose and it would make me laugh, bouncing her small form and making her giggle in return.

She had been busy lower too, squirming around and rubbing against me. My reaction was automatic and instinctive and when she began to rub herself along my length, I couldn’t deny it felt amazing. Then, surprising me, she had a little hitch in her movement and instead of the damp heat along the bottom, I was engulfed.

She had this adorable little expression when she was concentrating. Her brows would knit together and she would bite her bottom lip. She was doing that now and her eyes were closed, her hips were gyrating in little circles, even as she raised and lowered a little at a time until I could feel my end pressed up against something inside. I knew that, I studied that, I couldn’t concentrate enough to call up a mental picture of what was there to bump against!

The feeling was ... indescribable, really. It was heat and wetness and pressure and massaging, rubbing, grasping, pulling and all of those things, but more! I could not begin to imagine what could be happening there to make my brain stop working, I just knew that it did.

Cam, her eyes wide open now and her lips in a little ‘O’ of surprise, tried to sit up but groaned before she could get there, leaning forward again with a pout.

“You are too big, you brute. My poor chatte is not used to such a wonderful coq.” she said, smiling now and licking her lips. “I shall have it, but I must go slow and all I want is for you to take me, mon loup, to ravage me and make me yours.” Her words broke off as she groaned and I could feel that vibration in our connection!

When I reached up and ran my hands up her flanks until I reached her breasts, she moaned again. Encouraged, I let my fingertips play with her nipples, pulling and tugging, twisting lightly until she shuddered and started moving her hips faster and faster. Little circles, side to side, up and down until she froze, her eyes shooting open and an expression of surprise on her face.

She repeated the last movement, her eyes half closed and her mouth slightly open. Again ... again ... moving faster, sitting down on me just a little harder, soon she was almost slamming against me, a high-pitched whine coming from her as her frenzied action threatened to dislodge me and then, with a final drop that must have hurt her, she clamped down on me so tightly that I could not have moved if I wanted to, and her entire body began to vibrate.

The movement, the heat, the vibration and the pure eroticism of the moment and I came. I felt like my entire body was trying to escape out the end of my ... of my cock, and flow into Cam.

She collapsed on top of me, limp and panting, the sweat on our chests making an obscene squelching sound but I was too ... out of breath? Too shocked? Too much in awe of the feelings coursing through me to even laugh.

We slept like that, though Cam slid to the side sometime during the night, one leg and one arm over me, our fluids drying on our skin and in my pubic hair, making a huge mess.

It was okay though. It really was.

I am not going to lie and exaggerate about how I became an open and loving boyfriend, a wonderful lover and completely free of hang-ups. That didn’t happen. Even a month afterwards, when we were flying out to meet up with Jake in Dallas, I couldn’t ‘watch’ her touch me, or do anything like that with the lights on. A little ambient light was okay, I would just shut my eyes, but as long as I didn’t have to watch that part of me perform, I was okay.

Weird hang up to have, eh? I was getting better, I knew I was, but even I was a little frustrated at how deeply some of those things were rooted. Like, for example, I had a hard time being on top and what she called doggie was out of the question. We could do that from behind if we were lying on our sides and she did all the work, but neither of us found that very much fun.

One thing we found that we both loved was a late-night shower. With only the light of candles, we had showered together and she had gotten me excited. Somehow, she had ended up in my arms and soon she was impaled, her legs draped over my arms she was folded in half and I was raising and lowering her entire body on to me again and again until we both were sated.

That required a much longer shower, but I was okay with that. On-demand hot water for the win!

Terry called a few days after my trip to Miami, ranting and raving about how I couldn’t do that, and how he couldn’t accept an extravagant gift like that and how his father would throw a fit too and ... when I finally got him calmed down, I told him to man up. That got him laughing and everything turned out okay. He loved the loaner but had ordered his car. It would take about six weeks, since the colors and options he wanted were not available on a car already there in the states.

His mother had agreed to meet with me about my charitable giving and I suggested that we meet in Dallas, since I would be there in just a couple of weeks. She could choose the time and I would either have a helicopter pick her up at the airport or send a car, if she would rather drive. I made sure Terry had Jake’s penthouse number to pass on.

About a week before the end of school, Dean surprised me, saying that a reporter had written a story about me in the Austin paper.

“And you know this how?” I asked, thinking it odd.

“Clipping service. Dave told me about the company when I started and it is on my monthly expense report, so I assumed you had seen it.”

“I haven’t seen a monthly expense report, so it must be something Terry’s accountant is handling for me. I should ask ... Anyway, clipping service? What is that?”

“They search the papers, print and online, for mentions of whatever parameters you set. For you, it is your name, the trial, Everett Reilly, Jake Reilly, the four girls you rescued and I have nationwide amber alerts for missing children.”

“That’s ... that’s awesome! So, I guess something came up if you are just telling me about this now?”

Dean nodded but looked a bit uncomfortable. “Yeah. Look, I can have them copy you on the emails if you want, but like Dave does for Jake, he sorts through it and only forwards important stuff.”

“That’s fine, keep doing what you think is best but, for now, quit stalling. What came up that I need to know?” He was beginning to worry me.

“He’s dead.”

“Who, Dean?”

“Everett. Someone shoved an ice pick in his ear in the prison library. It was the only place where he was ever alone around other prisoners.”

Huh. He was dead. Really, truly dead. No more appeals. No chance of clemency. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Poor Jake though. Sure, the lunatic was a monster, but he was still Jake’s son.

I pulled out my cell but didn’t dial. How do I even ... Before I could chicken out or rationalize my way into not calling, I hit the button.

“Jack, how are you son, need something?” Jake answered, his voice even. Did he know?

“Jake, Dean has a clipping service. Says Dave set him up. They look for stories that involve or might concern us.” I said, beating around the bush.

“I see. So, your Dean probably has the Austin and San Antonio papers covered then and you heard about Everett. Well, I am not surprised. Dave would pick an efficient man much like himself to be in your corner.” There was a pause, then he continued, his voice a little lower this time, a little more hesitant. “Jack, how do you feel about this? Frankly, when I heard, I was a little relieved it was over but I was worried about you, son.”

I almost laughed. I was worried about him and he was worried about me. Neither of us giving two shits about the corpse in the freezer of the Florence Supermax!