Chapter 4

On Thursday he had to work from ten in the morning to six in the evening. He only had a part time job because his parents wanted him to have plenty of time to study. At the same time, his father felt it was important for him to make at least a token effort to help pay his way. He got to keep half of his wages. The rest went into his mother’s food shopping kitty and toward his rent. He worked at a local hardware store. They got a truck in on Wednesdays, and he helped open the boxes and stock shelves on Thursday. He also worked on Saturdays, from the time the store opened to roughly noon. On Thursdays he had a class at three-thirty and that meant by the time he was out, it was too late to go see Tawny.

In two days he had lost his virginity, had his dick sucked, sucked his dream woman’s clitoris, and fucked her in several positions. There was no birth control of any kind involved, and he had cum in her - at her demand! - more than five times in those two days. You’d think that after all that, it would be easy to go a day without it. Not so much, at least not for him. All he could think about was Tawny, laying out or swimming naked, or lying in bed using this mysterious “rabbit” she had mentioned, which he hadn’t seen yet, but he was pretty sure it went up inside her. That was wrong. What should be up in her was him!

As happens frequently, when a young man gets involved with a woman on an intimate basis, he was in a bad way. It was evidence of how juvenile he still was, even at nineteen. Sex with Tawny Stevens, for him, was like crack cocaine. One hit and he was addicted. All he could think about was when he’d get to slide his aching boner back in her velvety pussy and squirt in there. It affected his work and his boss, Glenn Travers, noticed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” demanded Glenn, as Bobby was stocking bolts. “You’re hanging metric threads with SAE threads.”

“Oh,” he said. They had looked the same size so he hung them on the same peg. He normally checked each package. “I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind.”

“Well your personal problems are for you to deal with off the clock. Get it right. I don’t want frustrated customers because they can’t find what they’re looking for.”

“Yes, sir,” he said. “I’ll make sure they’re all right.”

His boss was right. He had put things in the wrong place. In Bobby’s defense, Glenn had decided to put a column of SAE bolts on the board and then, right next to that column, a corresponding column of metric bolts. So the columns alternated, from small to large, with SAE, then metric, then SAE and metric and so on. He thought that made it easier for customers to find what they wanted without having to go to two different places in the store, if they were comparing a bolt they brought in with the new ones.

Bobby didn’t know if it was easier for the customer or not. It took a lot of concentration for the stocker, though. And it didn’t help that customers took something off of one column and then replaced it on a different one, mixing things up.

Still, Glenn was the boss and he was right. An employee should pay attention to detail while he was being paid.

He had two classes on Friday, one at nine in the morning and the other at one P.M. He called “Jenny” at ten, when he got out of Political Science.

“Hey there,” came her sultry voice. “I missed you, yesterday.”

“I missed you, too,” he said. “It affected my work. I got yelled at because I was thinking about you.”

“Don’t do that,” she said. “I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.”

“Well don’t be so sexy, then,” he said. “Think about what has happened to me in the last seventy-two hours. It’s a lot to take in!”

“Poor baby,” she said. “Can you come see me? I’ll let you lay your poor, confused head in my lap and stroke your hair while you take it all in.”

“You’re so helpful,” he said.

“Come in the back gate,” she said.

“What if somebody sees me coming down the alley and gets interested in who I am and where I’m going?” he asked.

“You have a point,” she said. “There are several old ladies on our block and they like to watch the goings and comings of people.”

“I could come to the front door if I had an excuse,” he said.

“What kind of excuse?”

“I could use some help with my English class. The details are making me crazy.”

“What kind of details?”

“I have to know where to use commas and where not to. Semi-colons and colons confuse me. Each one, by itself, is no big deal, but when I have to remember them all, I can’t.”

“When do you have to remember them all? You mean on a test?”

“Well, then, too, but our teacher loves to give us pages of text and we have to grade them, like she grades us. We have to red pen all the mistakes, and there are usually dozens. The percentage of errors we catch is the percentage of our grade for that project. I’m getting a C right now.”

“You obviously need some tutoring. Might I offer my services as an accredited teacher? I won’t charge you much. Remuneration in kind would be fine with me.”

“What is Renum-whatever-you-said?”

“Re-mun-er-ation in kind,” she repeated, slowly. “Look it up. That’s your first assignment as my pupil.”

“When do I need to know it?” he asked.

“If you don’t know what it means by the time you get here, you’ll be sorry,” she said.

Then she hung up.

He Googled re-num-er-ation on his phone. It changed it to remuneration and he found out he was probably going to have to give her sex instead of money for her services as his tutor.

He drove to the house and decided to park right out front on the street. He also took his book bag with him to the front door, where he knocked and waited. Tawny came to the door attired in her usual dress, and let him in.

“I’m here to remunerate you for my tutoring session,” he said, proudly.

“And what do you have to offer, in exchange for my services?”

“Sperm,” he said, boldly. “I manufactured a load of it yesterday and my tank is full.”

“I see,” she said. “That’s somewhat presumptuous of you.”

He pulled out his phone.

“Spell that, please,” he said, after tapping to Google.

She spelled it and he read the definition.

“How was I being inappropriate?” he asked.

“Because you simply assumed I would accept that payment, that I was interested in what you have to offer.”

“So, does that mean you’re not?” He was getting angry.

“Of course I am, but you need to present at least some token of romanticism. You can’t say, ‘I’m here to sperm you, Tawny. Lie down and spread ‘em.’” She used an old west accent in her delivery.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Why are you acting like this after...” he didn’t finish.

“Because I’m your tutor,” she said, sweetly. “I have been contracted to improve your English skills. Context is as important as the words chosen, when communicating. English only exists to communicate. Ergo, how you communicate informs the world of the level of your education and scholarship.”

“So you’re really going to tutor me?”

“Among other things,” she said, her voice sultry again. She reached to slide one fingertip from his chin to his lips.

Her meaning was clear. And it was delivered in a context that communicated well with his penis. He had never thought about choosing words, or context. He just talked. He just said whatever came into his mind. She had obviously chosen her words and delivery carefully, and his anger vanished as he got it.

“I look forward to our tutoring sessions, and am eager to pay whatever you ask,” he said, formally.

“Better,” she said. “I would have used remit instead of pay, but that will do for starters. Okay, first lesson is over. I now demand payment.”

With that she took off her dress.

She wasn’t wearing anything under it.

Today she wanted to do something they hadn’t done before. Once they were both naked, they went to her bedroom and she lay down on the bed with her legs together. They necked for a while and she talked about the importance of foreplay. Then she had him straddle her and she directed his prick to her tightly closed slit. Her outer labia parted for him with no trouble, but he found that the further in he went, the more resistance there was. With her legs closed she was very, very tight.

“I did this with Murdock a few times after I found out he was cheating on me, in an attempt to feel like a young girl might feel to him,” she said. “He liked it, but it didn’t stop him from cheating.”

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out the way you wanted them to,” he said, pushing the last inch.

“Mmmmm,” she said as he rotated instinctively. “Sometimes things work out in ways you don’t anticipate.”

He didn’t understand what she meant, but by then he had the urge to move in that tight sheath. He pulled out and pushed back in. It was exquisite, and he felt the urge to cum within a minute. He wanted to go longer and she hadn’t cum, so he went in and stayed there, even though he wanted to move. He got on his toes and elbows, with his chest on her breasts, and went in little circles as the sounds she made got better and better.

“Just like that,” she gasped. “You fill me so deliciously, Bobby,” she moaned.

Her pussy gripped him even harder and he gave up, hoping she was having an orgasm. He pulled out and slammed back in three more times and then erupted inside her.

“Just ... like ... that,” she panted.

She wanted him to stay on top of her, and with his knees outside her thighs it felt like he might not be as heavy, so he put his face in her neck, amid all that silky hair, and just breathed.

“I find your remuneration acceptable,” she breathed. “You have much to learn. Tutoring you could take months.”

He kissed her neck.

“As much as I love this, though,” she went on, “my fertile time in my menstrual cycle is on the wane. Having sex with you for the next couple of weeks would only be for fun, and not procreation. I want revenge, but I don’t want to turn into a slut to get it.”

“You’re no slut,” he said, kissing her neck again.

“I didn’t set out to be,” she said. “I didn’t anticipate how you would make me feel.”

“How do I make you feel?” he asked.

“Like a slut. I can’t resist you. I drained the batteries in my rabbit yesterday, just because I couldn’t have you. And they were brand new! And you can’t come here every day under the guise of being tutored. Nobody gets tutored every day. Most tutors see their students once a week. The thought of only being able to do this once a week convinces me I’m a slut of the first magnitude. I’m your slut, Bobby.”

He lifted his head and stared down into her eyes. They looked genuinely troubled.

“Look,” he said. “Your motives for doing this might be questionable.” He thought about the words he had just used. “No, not questionable. I think anybody would understand your motivation. I guess what people might question is the manner in which you are seeking revenge. That doesn’t make you a slut. It just makes you angry and maybe a little rash.”

“A little rash?” She laughed and he bounced on top of her. “I’m going to have another man’s child, and it’s just rash?”

“I’m trying to help, here,” he said.

She leaned her head up to kiss him briefly and let it back down.

“I know. My primary problem is that we’ve been intimate for less than a week and I feel like I’ve known you for years.”

“You have known me for years,” he said. “You saw me at school every time you subbed.”

“Yes, but I didn’t think about you, then,” she said. “Then you were just another testosterone-filled boy who my husband had to deal with, occasionally.”

“So why did you choose me to ... help you get your revenge?”

“I don’t know,” she said. He was surprised. She went on. “At that convenience store it was just impulse. I realized I was attracted to you, which was only mildly astonishing. Then there was the added benefit of who you were, concerning your past relationship with Murdock. Logically, it was perfect for my wishes. But there was much more going on than I realized. I was attracted to you. I’d always been faithful to my husband. Sure, I met interesting men, but I was never tempted to break my vows. And sure, Murdock wasn’t my dream husband, but we made a deal and I kept my side of it. When he didn’t, it changed the way I thought about things. And that changed the way I thought about you. I suppose I could have found another man to serve my needs, but that would have been complicated. Most of the good ones are married, and the destruction of my marriage doesn’t need to be compounded by destroying another. You, on the other hand, present an opportunity that is less complicated. You don’t have a girlfriend. You’re not cheating on anybody. You’re young, virile, and have good genes.”

He took a breath to speak but she leaned up and kissed him again.

“I know that sounded dry and unromantic,” she said. “That’s the problem. I intended it to be a dry and unromantic thing. I would get pregnant and that would be it. Wham, bam, thank you Sir. But that’s not what happened, Bobby. It is anything but dry and it’s incredibly romantic. It’s getting complicated.”

“How have I been romantic?” he asked, finally getting a word in. “I haven’t brought you flowers, or taken you on a date, or anything like that. It’s been pretty simple, really. You asked me to come help you, and I have tried to do that.”

“You listen to me,” she said. “You care about me. Did you think I haven’t noticed how you wait to have your orgasm until I’ve had mine? I haven’t missed that at all, Bobby. Most men would just climb on, do their stud service, and then wander away like a disinterested bull. You are my lover, Bobby. I wasn’t looking for a lover, but now that I have one, I can’t imagine being without him, not to mention I’m trying to have his child! You want to be with me and that’s romantic. If that’s not complicated, I don’t know what is!”

“So, what do you want to do?” he asked.

“See?” She tensed up. “You’re not telling me what to do, like most men would. You’re asking me what I want. That’s what I’m talking about. That’s romantic!”

“The question still has to be answered,” he said. “I love lying here on you naked, but we have to get up at some point. I need to know what to do in the future.”

“I’m going to try to be logical about this,” she said. “I’m as regular as clockwork. Ten days from now I should start my period. The fact that you have inseminated me numerous times while I was ovulating will, hopefully, change that pattern and I won’t have a period. If I do have a period, then roughly sixteen days after I start it, I should be ovulating again, and I’ll have another chance to become pregnant.”

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Revenge is Best Served on a Warm, Naked Body

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