Chapter 7

We waited until Monday, when both parents were at work, to read further. I insisted that we read everything in between Saturdays, so he would see her entry I’d read when I cheated. I looked up ‘au fait’ again, since I was sure if I didn’t know what it meant, he wouldn’t, either. He did not jump to the same conclusion I did, when I asked him what he thought she meant. He just said he thought she meant they only did this when they could ride their bikes out into the country. I reminded him of the rainy day when they stayed home and in bed all day. I suggested she was worried about getting pregnant.

“They didn’t have birth control pills back then,” I said.

“Oh. I never thought of that,” he said.

Her entry for Saturday, the 15th of August, was longer than that one-liner on the 8th. It was clear she was helpless to resist him, her denial of him during the week notwithstanding.

It rained again on the 15th. She said they kissed for hours and he “mounted me numerous times”. She said she never felt as safe and loved as when his weight held her down on the bed. “Between times”, as she put it, they talked about how they would write each other faithfully, once he left home, and that he’d be careful. He wanted her to promise him she wouldn’t lie with any other man while he was gone, but she reminded him that she needed to get married some day. She described how, as he gave her his gift one time, he groaned that he couldn’t abide thinking about her doing this with any other man.

It was heartbreaking, because we knew how they felt. I knew I’d have to get married to some man one day (because I couldn’t marry Bobby), and Bobby felt the same things Herb had. He hated the idea of any other man sucking my clitty, or my mouth on any other man’s penis. He hated the idea of another man having intercourse with me too, even though he hadn’t done that yet, and didn’t plan to.

Our discussion of things devolved into kisses and, slowly, our clothes came off. I still believe neither of us intended that to happen, but it did. For the most part it wasn’t to titillate each other. He got my bra up so he could feel my breasts, and it was uncomfortable, stretched across my upper chest, so I wanted it off. To get it off, I needed my shirt off, and there I was, topless. He stared at my breasts for a long time.

“They’re so beautiful,” he sighed.

Then he finally did one of the two things that Herb had done, but Bobby hadn’t, yet. He leaned forward to suck my left nipple. I felt shocks shoot through me, like long jolts of electricity that went from that nipple straight to my loins and back. I got hot between my legs and felt the overpowering urge to let cool air in there. That meant I had to take off my jeans, which felt unimaginably confining, and I needed to spread my legs wide to let that cool air reach where I wanted it. The side effect was that it also let Bobby slide his fingers under the waistband of my panties and penetrate me with a long, stiff finger.

I wanted to suck him, but not badly enough to stop him from what he was doing. Instead I lay there, breasts heaving, as he sawed that finger in and out of me. My panties were too tight. He removed them. Now he could use two fingers, spreading me apart most deliciously. He took his shirt off so he could feel my hot breasts against his chest, but that required him to lie half on top of me, because I was spread-eagle on the bed.

He was dry-humping my leg and his zipper scraped my tender flesh. I complained. He took his jeans off. His briefs were full to overflowing with his stiff penis. He didn’t say so, but I suspect he wanted skin-to-skin contact between his sex organ and my leg, so he took his shorts off.

Now we were both naked, writhing against each other.

He returned to his former position, half on top of me, alternately kissing me and sucking my nipples as his fingers drove me crazy.

He wasn’t doing it quite right. I was close, but somehow I knew he wouldn’t be able to get me there. I knew he wanted to, but he just didn’t know me well enough, yet.

I pushed at his hand, and when he took his fingers out of me with a wet, squelching sound, I rolled on top of him. His penis was so hard that it lay on his stomach, with the tip just below his belly button. I pushed my hungry clitty against it and jerked my hips forward.

Ahhhhhh, there it was. My whole body weight crushed my clit against his beautiful, stiff penis. I pushed back with my arms and then jerked forward again.

“Jenn!” he groaned.

I didn’t want to talk. I wanted to cum.

He gasped, grunted and then groaned. I felt his hot offering on my belly, which was sagging down to get the perfect angle on my clit. He’d spurted. I didn’t care, as long as he stayed hard just long enough for me to grab the gold ring. I felt his heat on my clit, and then all over my opening as my hips went into overdrive. I was rubbing my pussy all around in his cum.

His fingers suddenly found my nipples and squeezed them.

WHAM! There it was. It rose up like a ghoul on Halloween, out of the darkness, trying to frighten me. But I was ready for this ghoul. I grabbed it and felt my throat burn as I screamed. Bobby’s hand came to my mouth and clamped down. Suddenly I could only breathe through my nose, and that wasn’t nearly enough to get me the oxygen I needed. I didn’t care. All I could feel were the zings of pleasure bouncing around inside my body. I remember seeing a tunnel of darkness, with Bobby’s face at the end of it.

Then I remember being on my back again, waking up as Bobby’s anxious face hovered over me.

“Jenn!” he was saying, over and over again. It was annoying. I still felt wonderful, and he was too loud.

“Stop!” I said. My throat was raw and I wondered why.

“Ooooo, you’re not dead,” he moaned. “Thank goodness you’re not dead.”

“Of course I’m not dead,” I rasped. I remembered his hand over my mouth. “No thanks to you. You almost suffocated me!”

“I had to,” he said. “You were screaming so loud I was sure the neighbors could hear you. I was afraid they’d call the cops and claim someone was being murdered in our house.”

“Not murdered,” I mumbled. I wanted to go to sleep.

“You have to get up,” he said.

“No. Go away. I’m tired,” I said.

“You have to clean up. I’m serious, Jenn. Somebody might have called the police. You have to get dressed, in case they come.”

“I came,” I said. I know there was a goofy smile on my face.

“Is that what happened?” he asked. “I thought you were in some kind of awful pain.”

“Why did you pinch my nipples?” I asked, waking up more. He wasn’t going to let me sleep.

“I was trying to snap you out of it,” he said. “I didn’t know what to do. You started screaming at the top of your lungs and you wouldn’t stop!”

“It was a luscious, beautiful cum,” I sighed. “I want a hundred more just like that one.”

“You have to get up,” he insisted. “My cum is all over you. It got everywhere. It looks like I came inside you!”

“Go get a washcloth,” I said.

He jumped up and left. I rolled over, trying to go to sleep, but I was cold. I was on top of the covers, and would have to wake up way too much if I got up and pulled them back. He was back soon, anyway, and he made me roll onto my back. The washcloth felt good, but rough, as it scraped all over my belly and between my legs. My clit jumped for joy as the cloth rubbed over it. My clit didn’t want to go to sleep.

“Suck me,” I sighed.

“What?”

“Suck my clitty,” I said.

“You’re crazy!” he groaned.

“Suck my clitty and I’ll suck your cock,” I offered.

“My cock is fine,” he said.

“Oh yeah. You came, too,” I remembered.

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” he said. “You were like a tiger, all over me. If your pussy was a mouth, there wouldn’t be anything left of me from the waist down.”

“Oh, come on,” I scoffed. “I didn’t rub all over your legs.”

“You were wild.”

I opened my eyes. He was using the wash cloth to rub all around his cock and balls. I could see shiny places on his abs, clear up to his diaphragm. He rubbed the cloth up there, too.

“That was so delicious,” I sighed.

“That was kind of dangerous,” he said.

“Oh give me a break,” I said. “All I did was rub.”

He started gathering his clothes and got back into them. When I didn’t move, he tried putting my panties back on me, but I didn’t help and he got nowhere.

Then he rolled me over and slapped both of my naked ass cheeks. That woke me up, let me tell you.

I cursed at him, but I got up. Still griping, I got dressed. When I was decent again, he pulled me into his arms. I tried to resist, but he’s way too strong. I was able to turn my head from side to side, avoiding the kiss he was trying to give me.

“Stop,” he finally said. “We need to talk.”

“Talking does not involve kissing,” I grumped.

“Jennifer. If I hadn’t cum when I did, I was going to roll you over and stick it in you. I’m pretty sure, in fact, that the idea of rolling you over and sticking it in you is what made me cum!”

“Really? You’d rape me?” I was astonished.

“Believe me, it wouldn’t have been rape. You’d have wanted it just as much as I did. I thought you were trying to get it in you, the way you kept jerking back and forth over the tip.”

“I still can’t believe how good that felt,” I said. “But I wasn’t trying to get you in me.”

“I’m glad. It’s bad enough that one of us wants to go all the way. If we both did, we’d be toast.”

I started to tell him that, when his fingers were inside me, but not quite doing the job, I was convinced that if it was his penis in there, things would be fine. Now I wondered if, when I got on top of him, all I wanted to do was rub. It was hard to remember my actual thoughts. That orgasm had washed my brain clean of just about everything, there for a few seconds.

I decided he didn’t need to hear that.

And, I completely forgot that my period had finished almost two weeks ago.

That was the problem with teenage hormones. They made you just do things. When you worried about them, it was always after the fact.

The next day, Tuesday, we were so anxious to read that we were stupid about it. Dad left for work first, and Mom left half an hour later. We didn’t even wait five minutes after Mom left before we had the diary open and were reading. Again, we lay on my bed, on our stomachs, looking down at the open book. Bobby had his hand on my butt and was rubbing it. I heard the kitchen door slam and almost had a heart attack.

“Jennifer! Bobby!” she yelled. “Where are you?”

Well, I’ll just be honest. I was sure she knew exactly where we were. Parents do that. They ask questions they already know the answer to, just to test you and see if you’ll be honest.

Bobby bounced once and I swear he levitated until he landed on his toes beside the bed. He made it to the hallway before Mom came into view. To her, it probably looked like he was responding to her call and had just come from his room.

I shoved the diary under my pillow and sat up as Mom appeared in my open doorway.

“Where are my keys?” she demanded, looking at me, and then Bobby.

“I don’t have them,” said Bobby.

My mother actually looked back at me.

“Mom, I don’t even have my license yet,” I said.

“Well, where are they?” she moaned. “I’ve been sitting in the car ever since I left. I turned my purse upside down on the seat but they’re not there. I need to get to work!”

“We’ll help you look,” said Bobby, ever helpful.

We found them on the counter by the door, in plain sight. She’d apparently had them in her hand as she was leaving and put them down for some reason. Then, she walked right past them when she came back in and yelled for us.

“I’ll start looking for a good home to put you in,” said Bobby, as he picked up the keys and handed them to our mother.

He thinks he’s so funny.

Mom scowled, but then kissed him on the cheek and kissed me on the forehead.

“I’m so lucky I had you two,” she said.

“I’ll tell Nathan he’s the unlucky one,” said my ever-so-funny brother.

She left and Bobby went, “Phew, that could have turned out bad.”

“Badly,” I said. “You have to put the ly on it in that situation.”

“We almost got caught and you’re worried about my grammar?”

“Not really, but you always think you’re so smart, but sometimes you’re dumb.”

“Shouldn’t that be dumbly?” he teased.

“Just for that, you don’t get to see my titties today,” I said, gravely.

I never saw a boy grovel and whine like he did for the next ten minutes.

He only groveled and whined for ten minutes because I was so horny I couldn’t stand it. Almost getting caught hadn’t scared me. It got me going. I would never have suspected I’d be like that.

I thought about Aunt Jennifer. They did stuff right out in the open, on a blanket, where anybody passing by might see them. Or at least Old man Simpson might see them. They were on his land and, presumably, he went out and looked around his property from time to time. Had she liked the thrill of the danger, too?

When I relented and took off my shirt, Bobby stared at my boobs for a long time.

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