Chapter 12

Dressed in his boxers and a tee-shirt, Jack was sitting beside Erin at the kitchen table. He watched her take a bite of her sweet and sour chicken that he had ordered in after helping her with a shower. Along with her panties, she was wearing one of his old flannel shirts that had faded so much the blue color looked gray. The shirt came to the top of her knees. He had insisted that she stay the night with him and she hadn't argued with him. She had simply nodded and let him take care of her. Other than to thank him for helping her with the shower, and for serving her food, she had not spoken since she had stopped crying.

After they finished eating the homemade brownies he had baked for dessert, he put in the DVD of the first season of I Love Lucy and she curled up next to him on the couch and placed her head on his shoulder; her hand rested on his thigh. His arm protectively around her, he kissed the top of her head from time to time as they watched the innocent wackiness.

Lucy was jumping rope in an attempt to lose weight, when Erin moved her hand from his thigh and began to tenderly stroke his cock. Jack took her hand in his to stop her; he didn't want her to do something for which she wasn't ready.

Without moving she said, "Please let me love you."

"Baby, I'm not sure this --"

"Jack, please? I want memories of you not them."

He held her hand for several minutes before going against his instincts and allowing her to do what she wanted. Her hand back on his cock, she began to stroke him again.

When he was rigid and pounding beneath her touch; his shorts wet with precum, she rose up and pressed her mouth over his; flicking her tongue across his lips. Moaning, he allowed her access to his tongue, which she brushed in unhurried exploration, as though she had never kissed him before.

Mouth still locked with his, she stood and he went with her; her arms snaked around his neck. Pulling her against his growing need, he rubbed the silk of her panties; teasing her buttocks, bumping and grinding their hips together as he walked her into the bedroom.

The journey seemed like forever and yet, wasn't long enough. She pulled his shirt over his head and, then, he slid his hand into his boxers, to hold his cock against his body while she lowered his shorts. He sat down on the edge of the bed before letting her slide them over his feet.

Kneeling between his legs she nuzzled his neck, while stroking his chest. Her lips soon followed the trail of her fingers

"That feels good, Sweetie." He gasped "Don't stop." He wanted to play with her hair, but his instincts told him to keep his hands on the bed; and give her freedom.

She spoke softly, her warm breath voltaic against his skin.