Chapter 3: Saturday Afternoon

Turns out, what we wanted was that perennial lunchtime favorite, grilled cheese sandwiches. I didn’t have the obligatory Velveeta, but I did have a cheddar which wasn’t too sharp, and some whole wheat bread that wasn’t too wheaty, and Jen acquiesced and said that, despite the substandard ingredients, the sandwiches weren’t too bad after all. We sat at the dining table, bare asses on the chairs, and looked out the window as we ate our sandwiches and drank our milk. As predicted, the snow had resumed, and it looked like it was going to continue for a long time.

“Looks like it’s going to keep snowing, maybe a lot.”

And here, I found myself experiencing a profound ambivalence. I mean, no one wants to find themselves trapped in their house by a snowstorm that shows absolutely no signs of abating, right? On the other hand, every inch of the wet, heavy snow that falls will probably increase the amount of time that Jen and I will be together in our own little world. You can probably guess which way I was leaning.

Jen speculated, too, but she was much less ambivalent and much more transparent about her preferences. “Good. I like being here with you.”

We sat for a while, just looking at the snow. And, although we didn’t talk about it, I think we were both trying to digest the morning’s events.

Then, “What should we have for dinner?”

“I have some fresh ground beef and some good rolls – what would you say to ‘burgers?”

Jen replied, “I was thinking of maybe something special for us. I could make my world-famous spaghetti sauce. Do you have tomatoes and tomato sauce and tomato paste? And garlic and an onion. And oregano and olive oil. And we could use the ground beef. Unless you have any Italian sausage?”

“Nope – no Italian sausage. Otherwise – sounds great. I’d love to taste your world-famous spaghetti sauce, and I’ve got several kinds of spaghetti and linguini and rigatoni we can choose from.”

“But maybe we should call Mom before we ... before we do other things.”

Jen got her phone from her school backpack and pressed the icons to “Dial Mom.” Maybe Karen was expecting the call, or maybe we just caught her at a good time. Anyhow, she answered almost immediately.

I heard exchanged greetings, and the excitement in a young girl’s voice as she told her mom how she was enjoying the ‘adventure’ of being genuinely snowbound.

“I have almost half my homework done – Dave’s been letting me use his computer. And Dave says that the way the streets look, they might cancel school Monday, so I’ll even have another day to do it – isn’t that great!”

More conversation. Then,

“Yes, I slept really good. The bed’s soft, and he has these really great pillows – he says they’re down or something.

“But Dave snores.”

Oh, crap! Did she really say that? And just how in the world would she know that ‘Dave snores’? I couldn’t even imagine what was going through Karen’s mind. Or worse, I could imagine, and it wasn’t pretty.

“Okay. Yeah, he’s here. I love you too, Mom.”

... and not a word about “I can’t wait for you to get home.”

“Hi, Karen, yes, we’re both doing fine. Yes, she’s actually a great help. She made her bed before I could even mention it, and she’s promising to make her ‘world-famous’ spaghetti sauce for dinner this evening.” I hoped that if I seized control of the conversation, I could steer it away from ... well, from my sleeping habits. Nope.

“So, Dave – I hear that you snore... , “ letting her words hang there.

I tried to brush it off. “Yeah, I guess I’d better close my bedroom door better at night.”

“Um-hmm,” her voice dripping with skepticism.

Let me get this straight: She thinks her young daughter is sharing a bed with me – and she’s OK with it? One thing for certain – I decided to let that part of the conversation die right there.

“No, we still have plenty of groceries, and she’s enjoying wearing my big shirts and sweaters.” “No, really, no problem at all. I think I’d have gone nuts if I were stuck here by myself.”

Karen then said, “It’s still coming down pretty hard here, and there’s no sign of let-up, so I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get home.”

To try to brighten things, I added, “I hope that at least you’re having a good visit with your brothers and sister-in-law.”

To my surprise, she replied, “Oh, yeah, I’m having a really good time with them.” And the way she said it, it sounded like a whole lot more than just a “nice visit.”

“OK, Karen, I’ll tell Jen, and we’ll call again tomorrow. ‘Bye.”

I relayed to Jen, “Your mom says goodbye and she loves you, and that you should enjoy your weekend.”

Then I had to ask − demand, “Why did you tell her that − that I snored?? Do I even snore??”

She laughed and punched my arm. “No, you don’t snore. I just said it to mess with you.”

I didn’t know what to make of that. Was she purposely letting her mom know that she had first-hand knowledge of my sleeping habits? And was she confident that her mother would be OK with that? There’re things going on that I didn’t fully understand.

Jen got up and cleared our two dishes and two milk glasses, then took my hand in hers and said, “Back to the bedroom?” I didn’t argue.

I slipped off my t-shirt and Jen took off hers, and we both got into bed, when Jen said, “Dave, can we look at the rest of that video, the one we were watching before?”

Yes, Jen, I know which one you’re talking about. The one with the sexpot slut getting pissed on and drinking it, the one who was taking two big dicks into her sexy body when I stopped the video.

I “woke” the laptop and clicked on the “Play” icon, and it resumed right where we – and she – had left off. Right in mid-stroke – or mid-strokes, I guess I should say.

And my darling Jen watched, entranced, as the two men just used the girl’s holes. The guy in her ass would occasionally pull his cock all the way out and stretch her already stretched-out asshole for the camera, then ram her again. After a while, they disengaged, and she got up off the guy on the carpet and turned over and positioned his cock at her asshole and sat on him.

“What’s she doing?”

“You’ll see in just a second.”

And so she did, as the girl lay back on the guy beneath her and the other guy began pounding her pussy. And here’s where it started to get rough. The guy on top said something to her, and she spit in his face. He spat back at her and then slapped on of her tits. You could hear the sound, and a red mark started to appear on her flesh. The girl spit at him again, and this time he slapped both her tits, harder than the first time, then put both his hands at her throat and appeared to be squeezing.

The girl tossed her head back and forth, and then she did something that I wasn’t expecting: she grabbed his head and pulled him down to her mouth and kissed and licked his face and bit and pulled at his bottom lip with her teeth, and he began pounding her pussy again with renewed force.

Jen’s voice: “Dave, what’s happening?”

This was going to be tough to explain. “When people get really sexually excited, things that would normally be painful so you wouldn’t want them – well, when you’re really excited, things that are a little painful don’t really hurt. I know that might not make any sense, but it’s true. People who would never want to be slapped or pinched or scratched – when they’re really turned-on, they want the other person to do it to them, and it adds to their excitement.”

I hoped that that would make enough sense that she could at least understand the spitting and slapping and, apparently, choking were things that the girl actually wanted, and they increased how good she was feeling.

“Would we have to do that, Dave?”

“Darling, we don’t have to do a single thing that you don’t want,” I paused for a moment to let that fact sink in, and then I decided to go further,

“ ... and we can do anything that you think you want to do.”

While we were talking, the guy on top had pulled out again and the guy on the bottom had lifted the girl up and off his cock and was working to get his cock into her pussy, and I knew where this was going, too.

After the girl got the bottom guy well-positioned in her pussy, she motioned for the other guy to – well, to stick his cock in her pussy, right alongside the bottom guy. And that’s when the sound got better, and you could hear and understand what they were saying. And what they were saying was pretty – raw.

I – and Jen – could clearly hear, “That’s it – put both cocks in my cunt. Yeah, fuck that cunt! Goddamn – fuck that dirty cunt, you fuckers!”

I carefully sneaked a look at Jen, to see how she was handling this ... escalation. She was totally engrossed in the action on the screen in front of her. In fact, she almost seemed to be holding her breath, she was so entranced by what she was seeing, and now, by the girl’s outrageous words.

After a few minutes of this, during which Jen never took her eyes off the screen, someone – maybe the camera man – said something. The guys pulled out of the girl and she got onto her knees between the two men, and you knew how this was going to end, namely, like all the others end. With four fingers of one hand jammed into her cunt and the other hand cupped in front of her open mouth, she offered her mouth, first to one guy, then to the other, for them to cum into. After both had finished jacking-off, she opened her mouth to the camera so that everyone – we – could see all the cum in her mouth, and know that she was going to swallow it all.

Jen and I sat quietly for maybe half a minute. I waited for Jen to say something.

“Do you think she swallowed all of that?”

“It looked like her throat was working, so, yeah, I think she swallowed – at least most of it.”

We sat for a while longer.

“Dave, how come she was like that?”

“Well, some people – men and women – have sex drives that are really strong.” Then I realized that I hadn’t really explained anything – I’d just used another word for what Jen had asked about. “People are different in how much they like sex, and how often they want it, and what kinds of things they like to do. The girl in the video – she might have a really strong sexual desire and like it a lot, and that’s probably one of the reasons she got into the business of making porn... − of being in videos like this.”

“So she liked the way those men were treating her and what they were doing to her?”

“It certainly looked like that, didn’t it?”

“Dave, how will I know if I have a strong ... sex drive?”

This one was tough, and what I said could have a big influence on how satisfied she would be with her future sex life.

“Honey, there’s no ‘right’ level of sex drive. Some people have stronger drives, some people have less. Some people don’t seem to have any sex drive at all, and that’s kind of sad, except some people learn to live with it and adjust to it okay. And sex drives can change over time. For lots of people, their sex drives go down as they get older. On the other hand, for some people, often women, they discover that their sex drives – their desire for sex and the kinds of sex they want − actually get stronger after a certain age.”

I thought for a moment. “The most important thing is that you learn to enjoy whatever your level of sex drive is, and that you don’t try to deny whatever sex feelings you have, and also don’t try to force yourself into doing something you don’t want to do – to be ‘sexier’ than you really feel.”

“Do you think my sexual drive will be as strong as hers?”

I was tempted to ask, “Would you like it to be?” but I didn’t want to insinuate anything. Instead, I answered, “Our sex drives are whatever they are. The most important thing, I guess, is that you enjoy whatever you’re feeling, and if you want to try something or want more of something, that you ... well, that you let yourself enjoy whatever it is you feel you want.”

Then I added, “I don’t think you have to worry about your sex drive. From what I’ve seen – from what we’ve already done – your sex drive is quite healthy.”

She thought for a while. “Thanks, Dave. That was maybe the best thing that you could tell me.” She turned and kissed me gently and snuggled into my shoulder. Then,

“Dave? Do you think we could find some videos where the girl is more like me?”

And by “like me,” she clearly meant “younger.” There was no doubt what she was asking me to do. She knew there’s such a thing as child pornography. Maybe she and her friends had talked about it. Maybe they had even discovered some in a dad’s porn stash or on his computer. Anyhow, I certainly understand her desire to see “girls like her,” especially since she and I had already engaged in “child porn” in the flesh.

“Are you sure? We might come across some things that... , “ and I didn’t know where to go from there.

“Sure – let’s see what we find, and we can decide whether we want to watch it or not.”

The first thing I did was start up a VPN – a virtual private network – that I had gotten to be sure that my online financial transactions were secure. Then I accessed one of those “anonymous” search engines – ones that don’t track or save a record of your searches – and searched for “teen XXX videos.”

We got back a few “hits” that looked promising. I clicked on one, and we got a page of photos of girls, mostly mid- to late teens, in what I guess you would call “cheesecake”-type pictures. But two more clicks on photos and we began to get pictures where the girls were partly undressed – no tops, or bikini bottoms pushed way down, or some with their asses bare. And then the nature of the pictures changed. On the next click, we got a picture of a young girl, maybe fourteen or so, with her lips around the tip of a man’s penis.

I looked at Jen. She hadn’t reacted, so I asked, “Are these the kinds of pictures you wanted to see?”

Without even looking away from the screen, she said, “Yes – are there any others?”

I clicked on the girl and got another picture. This one had two girls, both licking or kissing a man’s cock. On the next click, we got something new. This “picture” turned out to be a two- or three-second clip of a girl sliding her lips and her hand back and forth on a man’s cock.

We watched this as the scene was repeated over and over, in a loop.

“What happens now?”

I clicked on the picture and got another loop of what looked like it could be the same girl. Only in this one, she was holding her mouth open, and you could see a puddle of creamy, white sperm lying on her tongue.” I waited for Jen to react.

“Do you think she’s going to swallow it?”

“Yes – she’s probably learned how to swallow it.”

“Can we see any more of it?”

“I think that most of these are ‘membership’ Websites, where you have to pay money to see more of the pictures, and I don’t want to make any kind of payment that can be traced back to us.”

“Oh.”

So we continued to click on what was available. I was amazed by the variety – and the intensity – of what we saw. There were two girls laughing, as what was obviously a stream of piss was splattering their faces. And going the other way, there was one of a similar girl, again, probably 14 or so, squatting over a man’s face and peeing into his mouth.

“That’s kind of like us, huh?”

“Yeah, kinda.” Then, “Would you like to do something like that? To me?”

“Would you want me to?”

“Jen, I love everything and anything you and I do.”

And then, there it was – a man’s cock sliding in and out of a girl’s pussy. And it was obvious that it was not a very big girl, but there could be no doubt that the cock was penetrating her pussy − only two or three inches, but he was definitely inside her.

“How old do you think she is?”

“I can’t see enough of her to guess how old, but she’s definitely a lot smaller than the man.”

“Do you think it hurts?”

“Well, she doesn’t seem to be squirming or trying to get away, but we don’t know how often they’ve done this before. I’d think it was certainly painful the first times, but maybe now she’s stretched so she’s used to it.”

“Can we try to find another one that shows more?”

We found one clip of a girl on her hands and knees, with a man plunging in and out of her. The girl was looking back at the camera, with an expression that seemed to say, “Yeah, I know what this is about. You like watching me? Because I like doing this.” Jen wanted to watch this one several times.

Another one that she seemed to like was a slight young girl and a man (the video “title” implied that it was her father). He was lying on his back on a bed, and she was lying on top of him, and the camera shot let you see that she was kissing him passionately while constantly squirming on his body. Then an arm reached around to her buttocks and appeared to be fingering her asshole. A closer look, and you could see that it was actually the girl’s arm (and finger). But what made this particularly lewd was that the girl was wearing these red and white stars-and-stripes leggings that set off her sweet little round ass perfectly.

Jen seemed to linger on this one, almost like she was considering the possibilities...

I suppose I ought to explain something here. I’m not – never was – into child porn. Had never seen it, any kind, anywhere, and never had wanted to. Okay, early on I admitted – confessed? – that I had noticed Jen’s slim, developing body and her straight legs and nice round ass. But, believe it or not, that’s as close as I’ve ever come to “coveting” children.

Now, I know that most “civilized” people want to believe that all children are sweet and innocent and totally devoid of any sexual impulses or feelings – preferably, until their wedding nights. But most people also know that young – even very young – children “play doctor,” and a whole lot of toddlers hump their teddy bears and their plush unicorns every night. Even infants play with their genitals, or at least, until their caregivers slap their hands away. And most children are interested in their parents’ or older siblings’ genitals; and some children even crawl into bed with one or both parents, hoping to learn more about boys and girls and men and women. So I wasn’t distressed by scenes of “older children” – about Jen’s age or older – engaging in most forms of sex, with each other or with older people.

Yet here I am, watching all of these, something I’ve never have done. Except this time, it’s with Jen, at Jen’s request. And looking at these things with her somehow made it OK, like I was the “guest” of someone who was already a member of the club. Jen wanted to see these very things, and it was my role to help her see things in a way that might be realistic and not too threatening. So, here I was, watching girls like Jen doing stuff with guys − like me.

Strangely, the most “obscene” thing we saw involved no nudity – even partial – and no actual sexual contact. It appeared to be taken by two girls, using their smartphone camera. The girl in front, who might have been Jen’s age or a year older, was wearing shorts and a conventional top − and she was absolutely beautiful. She held her phone-camera in one hand, and with the other hand she held her thumb against her curled fingers and moved them back and forth in front of her open mouth, in the classic “jerk-off” motion. Then she uncurled her fingers, stuck her tongue out slightly, and extended her index finger and dramatically placed it onto her tongue. The loop kept repeating this, over and over.

“Why’s she doing that with her hand, Dave?”

How to explain? “Hon, that – gesture – that she’s making with her hand – that’s a way of – it’s kind of a sign that means a man jacking-off – masturbating. So what she’s doing is, she’s telling men who are watching the video to jack-off and cum in her mouth.”

“Wow. That’s pretty dirty.”

“Yes – it is.”

I waited a few moments. “What do you think about that?”

“I’m not sure.” She thought, “Would you like it if I did that, and you came on my tongue?”

I thought for a moment about what she was asking – what she was offering. And I realized that this question took us farther down the road toward ... toward I’m-not-sure-what. Until this point, we’ve simply spoken about “Would you like that?”, or “Would you like to do this?” But this question – this was an offer: “Would you like me to do something that you want?” To put it bluntly, what she was saying was, “I’d be willing to do things you want in order to please you.”

And this took whatever was evolving between Jen and me to a new level.

“Oh, Jen. I would love anything that would make you happy.” And I realized – I meant it.

But there was one more picture, of a girl who, in fact, looked more than a little like Jen. She appeared to be about Jen’s age and about the same height, with long legs and long curly brown hair. And while she didn’t exactly look like Jen, she had the same kind of appealing, sorta-pretty features.

And she appeared to be six or seven months pregnant.

She was leaning back against a wall, her face turned toward the camera, with one hand resting on her belly and the other hand creeping down into her bikini bottoms.

“She’s pregnant, isn’t she, Dave?”

“Yes, she is.” I thought that I shouldn’t say anything more and let Jen...

“She looks like she’s my age, doesn’t she?”

“She looks like it.”

Jen stared at the girl’s picture for what seemed like a long time. Then she said,

“Do you think that’s what I’ll look like when w... ?”

... and caught herself − right on the verge of saying “we.”

Instead, she asked, “Do you think that that’s how I’d look?”

I deflected the question a little, in a way that I thought would make her happy.

I answered, “She’s very pretty, isn’t she?”

I saw a tear roll down Jen’s cheek. She took my hand in both of hers and squeezed gently.