Chapter 16: Brockton

“It’s been too long since we’ve done this,” commented Peter.

“Hmmm?”

“I said it’s been too long since we’ve gotten away like this.” Peter and Lauren were driving west into the lake district, to Brockton, taking a weekend for themselves, with the children in the care of Lauren’s parents. They had only left town a few minutes ago, and Peter had just wheeled the Jeep onto the Interstate for the trip west.

Lauren looked over at him. “Hey, there’s the job and Jimmy and Holly, and now Heather. It’s not easy getting away, you know!” It was late Friday afternoon, and she had left work a few hours early, to be home when her children got off the bus. After quickly packing for them and sending them off with her mother, she had showered and changed, then packed her own bags. Peter had arrived just short of five and loaded her and her luggage into his little Jeep, then they had set off west.

“That wasn’t a complaint, honey,” protested Peter, nodding in understanding. “Just an observation. I like being able to spend time alone with you. Not that I don’t like hanging out with the rest of your family, but I like spending time with just you.” He reached out his hand and took Lauren’s, pulling it to his lips, though his eyes never left the road.

“I’m sorry. I know that, and I want to spend time alone, too. It’s just been so hectic lately...”

“Okay!” remarked Peter. “What did the Daring Duo do now?”

Lauren laughed brightly. “Holly? Nothing! She thinks first grade is just the greatest thing since sliced bread! No, it was her big brother! He decided to take a shoe box full of garter snakes to school for show-and-tell and never told me.”

“Oh, no, don’t tell me...”

“You got it! He opens the lid and the snakes got loose. The girls are screaming, Mrs. Detweiler was standing on her desk, everyone is running around like mad men. He’s lucky he only got detention and not a suspension,” she said in an exasperated voice.

Peter laughed loudly. “Detention in second grade? Man, oh man, it took me until junior high to get my first detention. That boy is going places!”

“Straight to jail, at this rate.”

“How about Heather? How’d her big date go? Everything work out?” he asked delicately. He glanced at Lauren and noticed a ghostly smile creep across her face and would almost have sworn he saw her breasts heaving pleasantly under her dress.

“One could say that. I suspect that a considerable portion of this weekend she is going to be ‘studying’ down in her room with her boyfriend,” she replied.

“Studying, huh? Anatomy, perhaps.”

“Let’s just say there’s going to be an awful lot of lab work involved in this one.” She went on to describe the explicit details that Heather had divulged the next day, her voice a mixture of humor and awe.

“My God! Five times! In what, five hours? Or thereabouts, anyway? The kid’s inhuman!”

Lauren smiled and looked across at her lover. “So, what was your best record? What’d you do when you were sixteen?”

Peter grinned. “Hey, when I was their age, I yanked my crank. I told you I didn’t have any girlfriends until I went off to college.”

Lauren gave him a confused look. “No, you didn’t.”

“Remember when I was showing the kids my high school yearbook? How fat I was? I wasn’t making that up, honey, I was a disaster. I couldn’t have paid a girl to go out with me, let alone go that far. Hell, you were way more experienced in high school than I was.”

“No, really? I mean, you? You’re such a ... well ... a stud?” Lauren blushed as the words stumbled forth.

“Not then I wasn’t. Listen, when did you lose your virginity? High school, right? How old were you?” he asked.

Lauren shrugged. “Heather’s age, sixteen. My boyfriend and I went out to a drive-in, and we climbed into the back seat, and we got the windows all steamy, and then he was on top, and our pants were around our ankles, and BOOM, it was over. It wasn’t all that great, either, but we got a lot better with practice.” She said the last with a smile.

“Yeah, well I was a sophomore in college! I was way behind you.”

“No way! You? How?”

“Well, it was really all the fault of this girl I dated as a freshman. I was still a blimp at the time, in the first part of the semester, and this really hot chick in my English Lit class asks me over to this sorority house she was pledging, for a party they were having. Anyway, I had almost no experience with dating, or girls, or parties, and I showed up with her. She got me drunk, then we went upstairs to this one bedroom, at which point she took off her top, and pulled down my pants, and gave me a hummer. The next thing I know, she’s getting dressed and telling me to pull up my pants and get lost. She had to give me a blowjob to get into the sorority. Somebody had been watching through a peephole in the next bedroom. It was some sort of initiation; all the freshmen girls had to suck off the ugliest guy on campus they could find.”

“Oh, no! I am so sorry.” Lauren thought this was monumentally cruel.

Peter was no longer laughing, just staring down the road. He shrugged and continued. “Yeah, pretty pathetic, huh? I just started crying, bawled my eyes out the rest of the night. I had to walk two miles back home in the cold, just crying my eyes out. That’s what made me get in shape, that I would never go through that again. No woman would ever find me less than perfectly fit, yadda, yadda, yadda. I started dieting and working out and lifting weights and running. I lost over a hundred pounds and started looking human. By the beginning of sophomore year, it was a different story. I managed to get my cherry popped and the rest is history, I guess.”

“It’s too bad that bitch couldn’t see you now!” remarked Lauren. “So buff and studly.”

“Hey, she got hers,” he answered. Lauren pushed him, and he explained, “Later that year, sophomore year I mean, when I had really gotten into shape, I ran across her at a sorority party, and she didn’t have a clue who I was. I mean, I didn’t look at all like the old me. I had lost all the weight and had some new clothes and a new haircut and all. So, I hooked up with her and talked her into heading back up to her room. She was really getting into it on the way. So, I got her to take off her top, then I pulled out my johnson and had her give me a hummer. She took care of me, then stripped naked, so I could work on her, but I said, no, I needed some more, and she sucked me some more, and then, when she pulled away to get on top, I took matters into my own hands and jerked off on her face. This really pissed her off since she wanted me to do her instead. It was at that point that I pulled my pants back up and got out, and I told her that I was the guy who got her into her sorority in the first place. Jesus, you could hear her cussing me out all the way across campus! Boy, was she pissed!”

“Served her right,” agreed Lauren. “Still, you weren’t the only chubby guy in school. I’m sure lots of them had girlfriends.”

Peter shrugged. “Maybe so, but I wasn’t one of them. I was very shy and naïve, and very, very unsure of myself. It was only when I started losing the weight and working out that I got up the nerve to try to ask a girl out again. To my surprise, she said yes, which kept me losing the weight. Hell, I probably added twenty years to my life anyway!”

“Well, I think you’re just scrumptious, Studly, and wouldn’t change you for the world!” she replied with a laugh and a smile, kissing his hand, then holding it in her lap. The concept of Peter Tallman being anything other than the supremely self-confident and handsomely buff love machine that she knew simply could not register with her. It was too far at odds with the man she knew and loved.

For his part, Peter could barely believe what he had just told Lauren. He had never told anybody what he had just confessed to Lauren, and he was mortally ashamed of what he had done in those days. He had treated that girl just the way she had treated him, something he had sworn not to do. He’d had a lot of women since then, brief flings mostly, but he’d never hurt anyone the way he’d been hurt. He hadn’t opened himself up to any of them like he just had either, and now he watched Lauren closely out of the corner of his eyes to see how she was reacting.

“Peter, why did you tell me, you know, about those days?” Lauren asked quietly. Peter turned his head and looked over at her, and she continued. “You could have kept it a secret from me. It hurt you to tell me; I can tell.”

Peter’s voice was on the verge of cracking. He shrugged and averted his eyes, staring straight ahead through the windshield. “I don’t know. Maybe I wanted you to know I can be a pretty rotten person at times.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re a rotten person at all. Thank you.” She wiped away a tear, then leaned towards him and kissed him on the cheek, getting a gear shift lever in the side for her troubles. “You want to know my biggest complaint about you, mister? It’s this kiddy car! You’re a grownup now. You don’t need to be impressing the boys at the frat house anymore. And it’s drafty! I am freezing my ass off over here!” She rummaged around behind her seat and pulled out a blanket, then spread it over her legs.

Peter snorted and laughed, then turned up the heat. “Yeah, probably. I’m due for a new car in January. Maybe I’ll get something a little more ‘grownup.’ A full-size Jeep, maybe. I like the four-wheel drive in lousy weather.”

“You buy cars on a schedule?” she asked curiously.

Peter turned and looked at her oddly. “I don’t buy cars at all! I thought you knew; this is a company car.”

“You never told me!” she protested. A company car was a serious perk; her estimate of his position at his firm went up several notches.

He made a wry look. “I would have sworn I had. Oh well, it’s no big deal. The lease or whatever is up at the end of the year. I’ll see about getting something a little more practical, so you’ll be happy, hmmm?”

Lauren laughed. “Good idea!”

“So, other than Heather setting new world records for horniness, what’s she up to? She going to be living at your house for a while?” Peter asked.

Lauren gave a sad smile and shrugged agreement. “Yeah, I think so. It’s not going so well for her back on the old homestead, honey.”

“How’s her mom doing? What about her old man?” he asked.

“Well, you know her Mom’s got a brain tumor of some sort?” Peter nodded, and Lauren continued. “Well, they operated and cut out a lot of it, but some of it couldn’t be removed, so they’ve been using chemo and radiation. It’s really just slowing things down, not stopping or curing it. I took Heather over to the hospital last week and she looks just awful! She’s lost so much weight and she doesn’t seem to recognize anybody, and she can barely talk. I mean, I’m no doctor, but I don’t think she’s going to make it at all!”

“Shit,” Peter said quietly. “How’s her father taking it?”

“Not so great. Heather goes over to the hospital twice a week and sees them both, but she always comes back crying. I guess her father has started drinking again, though not enough to get him in trouble. I think that even after her mother dies, Heather’s going to be staying with us.”

“That’s too bad. At least she’s got a boyfriend to help her out.”

Lauren nodded and was silent the rest of the trip. It wasn’t long before Peter pulled off the highway and began traveling the winding state routes through the lake district to the inn where he had a reservation. When he finally drove through the small town and pulled into a parking lot, Lauren got out, stretched her legs, and looked curiously at the rambling structure they were in front of. It was a large building, somewhere in size and style between an oversized farmhouse and a small manor house, two or three stories in height, with a lot of different roof lines. More than anything else, it looked as if it had been added to several times over its lifetime. A sign out front labeled it the ‘Loch Inverness Tavern and Inn - A Scottish Homestead.’

“I heard about this in the newspaper a few months ago,” explained Peter as he unloaded luggage from the back of the small Jeep. “It’s an old summer home for a wealthy guy who then died, and everyone who’s ever had it since has built on to it.” He pointed out what appeared to be several additions. He led the way inside. “It’s supposed to be very cozy and have a very nice restaurant.”

For all its charm, the inn was singularly lacking in elevators, so after receiving their keys - real keys and not the electronic credit cards so common in newer hotels - Lauren took a small bag and left her lover to struggle upstairs with three suitcases. Their room was on the third floor, in a room with a somewhat low ceiling that was obviously converted from a gabled attic overlooking the lake. It was of a decent enough size, with a very large bathroom containing a small whirlpool tub and a separate shower, and a very small balcony with a French door opening inward from it.

“Ooh! Very nice!” cooed Lauren. She tossed her bag onto a chair and scurried into the bathroom. “Out in a second.” She relieved herself and flushed, then came back out.

“My turn,” responded Peter. His back teeth had been floating for the last half hour. It was almost seven when they had arrived. When he came back out, he asked, “Ready for dinner ... whoa!”

Lauren smiled at him from where she was leaning against the dresser. She was comfortably dressed for the ride in a calf-length denim shirtdress, almost a jumper, with a low-cut front and back and relatively open sides. It was normally worn with a tee shirt or a sweater under it, and she had worn it with a turtleneck at the office that morning, but she had left that at home. She had also left her underwear at home. Peter had noticed her lack of a bra as she had jiggled in the seat of his Jeep, but it was obvious now. She had unbuttoned the dress, all except for a single button at her waist, and had spread the lapels and hem wide, displaying her tits and pussy for his viewing pleasure. She had also stripped off her panties at home and was wearing stockings and high-heeled sandals.

“I thought we might hold off on dinner a few minutes,” she commented with a sly smile.

“Whatever you want!” agreed Peter. He stepped in front of Lauren and smiled, reaching up to caress and fondle her breasts. He began pinching and tweaking her very aroused nipples as Lauren reached out to him.

She quickly undid the buttons on his shirt, then continued lower, to undo his belt and unzip his pants. As soon as she had pushed them and his shorts low enough, Peter stepped forward. He lifted Lauren onto the dresser and stuffed his cock into her greasy hot snatch. Slipping his hands under her thighs, he lifted them and spread them further, then began bucking his hips forward, driving deep into her. Lauren moaned as he fucked her, their bodies slapping together, his balls swinging up to smack her on the ass. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me...” she cried quietly. She was well into her second orgasm when her lover groaned and shoved forward harshly, his spasming cock spewing cum into her hungry cunt.

“I have to clean up before we can go downstairs,” commented Lauren as Peter stepped away, breathing heavily.

Peter pulled his pants and shorts up over his soft and wet dick. Grabbing his handkerchief, he crudely wiped her pussy and then tossed it aside. “Like hell! I’m hungry!” He started buttoning his shirt.

“You pig!” she replied with a laugh, buttoning her dress up. “Just for that, I’m going to time you. You’ve got to fuck me four more times tonight, just so I can keep up with Heather.” She glanced at her watch. “I figure five hours should do it!”

“Five times in five hours?” he asked incredulously. “Sorry, babe, but I believe in quality, not quantity.”

Lauren stuck her tongue out at him. “I think quantity is a quality all its own!”

“Yeah, well maybe she’s a little more ... inspirational?”

Lauren snorted in derision as she walked to the door with Peter behind her. “You want inspiration, bucko? Just remember, I might have taught her everything she knows, but I haven’t taught her everything I know!”

The restaurant in the basement of the inn was good, though the cuisine was only semi-Scottish. Lauren looked over the menu and asked, “Exactly what is a haggis anyway?”

“You take a sheep’s stomach, load it up with oatmeal and anything else that seems really awful, and boil the living hell out of it,” Peter replied.

“Ye Gods! Are you serious?” Peter nodded seriously. “That’s disgusting!”

“And that’s why the Scots kept invading England; they were really pissed from eating haggis!” he responded. “I’m having the venison myself. You?”

After an enjoyable, if non-Scottish meal, Peter escorted Lauren into the tavern end of the restaurant, which was filling up as the late-night crowd came in. Lauren, however, had a different plan in mind. As they stepped up to the bar and the bartender came over, she asked, “Do you have any champagne? Chilled, in bottles?”

“Yeah, sure,” answered the bartender, a younger fellow in his early twenties.

Lauren smiled. “Well, we are staying upstairs, so I’m going to need a bottle and an ice bucket.” Peter’s eyes widened at this, and the bartender grinned, then went out from behind the bar and stepped into the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with an ice bucket already loaded with ice and a bottle of champagne, then reached over his head and pulled two flutes from an overhead rack. He set them on the counter and began sorting out the bill. Peter stood to pick up the champagne, but Lauren stopped him. “I need to get ready a bit, so why don’t you come up in an hour or so.” She gave him a dazzling smile and picked up the bucket and flutes. “Give him the bill,” she told the bartender, nodding her head towards Peter.

The bartender grinned and said, “You bet!” then watched with Peter and another couple as Lauren sashayed away, her hips swinging. “Buddy, can I interest you in some vitamins, or maybe some Viagra?” he asked Peter.

The other couple laughed as well. “You’d better take him up on the offer!” the woman said.

Peter snorted and laughed, then settled down on a barstool and ordered a coffee. “I think I’d better stay sober, don’t you?”

An hour later, coffeed out and with the clock approaching ten, Peter ordered another chilled bottle of champagne, then left with a smile. Letting himself into the room, he failed to notice anything out of the ordinary, though he also failed to see Lauren. The lights in the room were on and the television was off. Curious, he called out, “Lauren? You here?” and walked towards the bathroom.

“Right here,” she answered.

Peter looked in the door to the bath and leaned against the frame. Lauren was neck deep in bubbles in the whirlpool tub, with a champagne flute sitting on the edge of the tub. The bottle itself was upended in the ice bucket. “It’s a good thing I brought another bottle,” he commented.

Lauren giggled. “I guess I drank it all. I’m sorry! Would you like me to give you a blowjob to say I’m sorry?”