Chapter 3

“Things have gotten a little out of control,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re sixteen. I’m twenty-eight. The things that happened between us already are the same things that got Carson sent to prison. I’m supposed to be taking care of you, not molesting you.”

“I don’t think you molested me,” she said. “I broke the rules and you punished me.”

“If I had just spanked you, that would have been punishment. Somehow, your punishment turned into me giving you an orgasm and then putting my dick in your very underage pussy. That’s what I mean when I say things have gotten out of control.”

“It was punishment,” she insisted. “I was horribly embarrassed when you were spanking me. We just talked after you spanked me. That’s when ... stuff ... happened.”

“I still don’t understand why you let ... stuff ... happen,” I said.

“I don’t, either,” she said, as if it meant nothing. “All I know is that I can finally talk to a real adult about how I feel about stuff. I like that. I really like that. I like hearing honesty and being able to respond honestly. That’s why I was honest about how I feel right now. You gave me an orgasm. I think I should give you one, too.”

“What do you have in mind?” I asked.

“Guys always want me to go down on them,” she said. “I think that’s icky. Or I think it’s icky with all of them. But I might like doing it to you. But I might not, too. Always before, when something like that happened, I just let a guy make me do stuff. For once I want to be in charge and decide for myself what to do and what not to do.”

“Now you’re thinking straight,” I said. “I mean you’re thinking about how things affect you. That’s good. I’ll be honest, too. I’d love for you to suck me,” I said.

“Should we go back to the bedroom?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“Why not?”

“That would be too dangerous,” I said. “You’re naked under that robe and once you got me going I’d want to put it in you again. And if I ever put it in you again, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop like I did last time.”

“Can we do it here?”

“That might be better,” I said.

I let her undo my pants and pull them down. She stared at my erection and I stood there, giving her time to look and think. Finally, I sat back down, but my pants were still around my ankles, so I leaned forward to pull one leg off before I leaned back. She didn’t seem to mind that my trousers were hanging off one foot. She got on her knees and reached for my boner, but all she did was move it sideways.

“I’ve never really looked at one very closely,” she said. “It really looks big.”

“My lady friends tell me I’m a little larger than other men,” I said.

She looked up at me.

“So, you have a lot of lady friends?”

“Enough,” I said.

“And they let you put this in them?”

“Yes.”

“Do they like it?”

“I’ve never had any complaints and most of them come back for seconds.”

Her hand finally closed around the shaft. As her grip firmed, the skin under it moved and the foreskin pulled halfway off, revealing the little eye.

“This looks so weird,” she breathed. “That skin is moving!”

“That’s my foreskin,” I said. “Push down harder with your hand.”

She did and the loose skin thinned until it popped under the crown.

“It just disappeared!” she said.

“No, it only moved. Move your hand back up.”

She did and the foreskin bunched into a little round collar.

“That is freaky,” she observed.

“That is part of what makes a guy feel so good during sex,” I said. “It goes back and forth, kind of stroking the head. The head is very sensitive and it feels good.”

“So does it feel good if I do this?”

She pushed down and back up.

“It feels really good. If you do it long enough I’ll cum.”

“You mean shoot, right?”

“What you felt a little while ago was an orgasm. When men have an orgasm it shoots, yes.”

“Do your lady friends suck on this?”

“Some of them,” I said. “I think that’s something a woman either likes or doesn’t.”

“My stomach feels funny when I think about doing that.” Her hand was still slowly masturbating me. Her grip was too loose for it to get me close, though, and she was going much too slowly. Rather than give her instructions about that, I held out to see if she’d put it in her mouth.

“Instead of thinking about that, just kiss it,” I suggested. “Maybe lick the head a little.”

She pushed her hand down and held it there. She stared at the purplish knob. Very slowly, she leaned and gave it a dry peck. She sat back and licked her lips.

“I don’t taste anything,” she said.

“If you put it all the way in your mouth it won’t taste like much at first, but then you’ll get some flavor.”

“How does that work? This isn’t a lollypop.”

“No, but as you suck it, my juices start seeping out. That has a flavor.”

“That sounds so gross,” she said.

“When I licked you, you had flavor, too,” I said. “You tasted delicious. I could happily taste you every day.”

“I’d let you taste me every day,” she said. “I never felt anything that good.”

“There’s a lesson in that,” I said. “It would be easy for me ... or some other guy ... to do that and get you so excited you’d let him ... or me ... do too much.”

“Like you did too much when you put it in me?”

“Exactly. What I did to you, and what you’re doing to me right now, is foreplay. Its purpose is to get both the man and woman ready for... eager for ... intercourse.”

“You’re already ready for intercourse,” she said. “You’re hard.” She squeezed my penis.

“I’m biologically ready,” I said. “Good sex has much more in it than just the biology. Good sex happens when the mind is just as ready to go as the body is.” I paused. “I’ll give you an example. Think of some man you know.”

“I don’t know any,” she said.

“Sure you do. There are lots of men in your life. How about your dad?”

“Okay,” she said.

“Now think about what I did to you a little while ago and replace me with your dad. Would you have wanted that to happen?”

“Of course not. He’s my dad!” she squeaked.

“Okay, think about those guys you let fuck you. Would you want them to do that?”

“No. They’re creeps,” she said.

“You wouldn’t want them to do that because, in your mind, they’re not acceptable sexual partners,” I said. “Your mind wouldn’t be on board. If they did to it to you, it would probably feel good. You couldn’t stop your body’s reaction to that kind of thing. But you wouldn’t enjoy it. You’d be thinking, ‘I don’t want to do this!’ and it wouldn’t be good sex.”

“So why did I like it when you did it?”

“You like me and you’re not afraid of me. Even when I spanked you, you weren’t afraid of me. You feel comfortable with me and your mind has decided I’m a suitable sexual partner.”

“I get it,” she said. She let go of me and leaned back. “I never wanted any of the others to do that. I let Mr. Carson because I was curious, but after the first time I didn’t want to do it with him again. I couldn’t keep away from him, though, and when he told me to do stuff I just did it. But I didn’t want to.”

“You said you had orgasms with Carson but not with the rest, right?”

“Yes.”

“Carson knew how to manipulate your body so the biological part was accomplished. Were the orgasms he gave you as good as the ones I did?”

She shook her head.

“Yours were better.”

“Again, that’s because you wanted me to do that. Your mind said it was okay, good, something to enjoy. The reason you didn’t have orgasms with the boys is easy. They don’t know how to treat a woman. But the difference between what Carson did and what you felt with me is all brain. That’s the most important lesson I can teach you. Unless your brain tells you to have sex, then it’s probably the wrong guy and you won’t enjoy it. In that case, why do it?”

“I wanted Chuck to like me,” she said.

“So you let him have sex with you in the hopes he’d like you?”

“Yes. And I was drunk. And horny.”

“How’d that work out for you? Does he like you?”

“No. As soon as he finished he got up and left me there. He’s such an asshole!”

“Sex isn’t a tool to get a guy to like you. Sex shouldn’t even be on the table until you know he likes you. Sex shouldn’t be on the table until you know you like him.”

“I thought I liked him,” she said.

“Do you go on dates?”

“No. My mom says I’m too young. After she found that dildo she got all weird.”

“Well, dating is for the purpose of finding out if the two of you like each other. You get to know him on dates and you talk about important things. You find out what the other person is like. If there’s chemistry, then, eventually, you can think about sex. The problem with kids is that when they go on dates, their blood is eighty percent hormones. They skip the important stuff and get right to the mating part. That’s why your mother doesn’t want you to date. She remembers what she used to do. And that’s what you did with those two guys who got in your panties. Carson is different, because he was an authority figure and that caused you to give in. He raped you, in the eyes of the law.”

I stared at her.

“Actually, in the eyes of the law, I raped you, too.”

“I don’t care about the law,” she said. “I’m having fun and I’ve learned way more from talking to you than I learned everywhere else combined!”

“What I care about is that you don’t get knocked up before you’re out of college,” I said. “That’s why I’m talking about all this stuff.”

“You said you want to get me pregnant,” she said.

“That was biology talking,” I said. “I know that getting you pregnant would be a terrible thing right now. It would probably be a terrible thing any time. I can’t just stop thinking about that, though. It’s elemental, part of my makeup as a man. So I have to use my brain to choose the best course of action, what’s best for both of us. That’s what I’m trying to teach you to do.”

“So I still want to have sex with you, but I shouldn’t, right?”

“I guess so.”

“Unless we can do it without making a baby,” she said. “I mean that wouldn’t be a terrible thing.”

“In theory, yes,” I said. “As long as you remember we shouldn’t be doing anything at all, and that all this is, is experimentation for you.”

“Well, we’re going to do things,” she said, firmly. “I don’t know what we’ll do, and I promise to think about everything first. Is that good enough for you?”

I thought about it. After all, that’s what I was asking her to do. I knew it was wrong. But I also knew she had opened Pandora’s box and wasn’t going to put the lid on it. Why let Chuck and his friends have this luscious little woman? If she was going to play ... then I was going go play with her. And she was thinking about things, instead of just reacting to her hormones. Right?

“Okay,” I said.

She reached for my dick.

‘‘Hey! What happened?” she exclaimed. “It’s soft!”

I looked at my cock. Sure enough, while we’d been talking I hadn’t been thinking about sex. Not with me involved in it, anyway.

“We talked and I calmed down,” I said.

“Well calm back up!” she complained.

“If you play with it, it will calm way up,” I said.

Maybe my soft manhood was less threatening. Or maybe she felt like she wasn’t as sexy as she wanted to be. I don’t know, but for whatever reason, when she squeezed my penis in her hand this time, she leaned forward and French kissed the tip. I knew she’d never done this before, but instinct told her to nip at the tip with her lips, like she was taking the pointed peak off of an ice cream cone. I think she was so busy trying new things that she didn’t realize how quickly it would ‘calm back up’ and within two minutes she had the head of my very firm prick in her mouth and was sucking on it like it was a lollypop.

At some point she realized what was happening because she leaned back and jacked on it a couple of times.

“I’m doing it!” she breathed. “I’m sucking a cock.”

“You’re sucking my cock,” I said. “New rule. You can’t suck anybody else’s. Only mine.”

She leaned forward and her cheeks caved in as she sucked hard. Then she leaned back again.

“New rule,” she said. “None of those other women get to suck this cock. Deal?”

“You drive a hard bargain,” I said. “What about after I leave and go back home?”

“Oh,” she said. “We can negotiate that later.”

Then she leaned forward and, for the next ten minutes, learned how to suck a cock like a pro.

She was a natural. I hadn’t run into many women like her, who could bring me off with just her mouth. She held onto my rampant cock, but didn’t stroke it. I was surprised when, suddenly, I realized I was going to cum.

“I’m close!” I gasped, warning her.

I don’t know whether she was ignorant of what was about to happen, or had decided she wanted to experience the whole deal, but she didn’t pull off.

With a groan, I unloaded inside her hot, sucking mouth.

She stiffened as I jetted, and then pulled off, her mouth full of my white spend. Her lips hung open as it hit her that my essence was in her mouth. Her eyes were saucers and she held her breath.

Meanwhile, my prick spat again, a long line of white that leapt into the air and settled across her face like a scar. It went from her black hair down, barely missing her left eye and bisecting her face.

We were both frozen, with the exception of my penis, which belched a third time and then pulsed, oozing until her hand was all that kept it from running down my shaft.

She blinked. Her mouth closed. She squinted as her facial muscles rippled.

Then, loud in the silence, she swallowed. That was followed by her mouth opening again as she exhaled, unable to hold her breath any longer.

“Fuck!” she gasped. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Um ... sorry,” I said, weakly. I hadn’t cum that hard in quite a while. “I tried to warn you.”

She closed her mouth and swallowed again, looking down at my cock, in her hand. She licked her lips.

“You don’t get it,” she groaned.

“What don’t I get?” I asked. I stared at the scar across her pretty face.

“I liked it!” she blurted. “I liked getting your cum in my fucking mouth!”

I still didn’t understand the import of all this. I mean I knew she was surprised. If she was telling the truth she’d never done this before, so she had to be surprised. But the angst in her voice was in direct opposition to the words she’d uttered.

“That’s good ... isn’t it?” I asked.

She let go of my now shrinking manhood and peered at the mess on her hand.

“No it’s not good!” she panted. “I’m not supposed to like sucking a cock!” She looked up at me. “I am a slut!” she wailed.

Her clean hand rose to wipe at the semen on her face.

“I have cum on my face and I’m a slut because I like having cum on my face!”

I sensed things were not going well, and yet her vocal cues belied that.

I was confused.

“It’s fine,” I said. “You’re okay. You’re fine.”

“Oh no I’m not,” she said, firmly. She leaned back. The robe gaped and her luscious titties stared at me. Her nipples were spiked. “I’m not fine at all. I’m a slut.”

“You’re not a slut,” I argued. “All you did was suck my cock.”

“I let Chuck fuck me last night,” she said, her voice heavy. “I loved it when you spanked me and felt me up. Now I find out I love the taste of your cum. I want you to fuck me now even more than I did before. All I can think about is how much I want to cum. I’m just a slut! I’m a fucking, horny slut!”

Then she broke down and sobbed, her body wilting until she fell sideways.

I jerked forward as she fell on top of my right foot. I tried to get her up to give her a hug, but she was dead weight as she wailed. I had to stand and muscle her up. The easiest thing to do was sit back down on the couch, pulling her more or less across my lap. Her face got cleaned on my chest and I felt the now cooling wetness of my semen smear across the back of my neck as her arms went around me. Her body shuddered with the intensity of her distress. All I could do was stroke her hair and say over and over again, “You’re not a slut, Baby.”

She clung to me as my mind tried to catch up with the bizarre nature of all this. I’d had women tell me they didn’t like the taste of semen and didn’t want to go down on me. That was fine, because there were other women who said they didn’t mind it, and saw oral sex as just another way of sharing intimacy. But I’d never had one break down in tears because she liked doing it. Obviously Beth was distressed about it, but at the same time she’d said she liked it. The big picture I eventually was able to see - or thought I saw - was that poor, little Beth had some seriously pre-conceived notions about all this. I felt stupid because I knew she was way too young to dive headlong into what I’d let her dive headlong into.

I had thought I was teaching her something, when in reality I was seriously fucking with her mind.

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