Chapter 8

The next morning Bob announced that Becca was going to give him a driving lesson.

"Do you really think that's wise?" asked June, still happy and sated from their early morning repeat of the night before. She almost wished that she were younger and not on the pill. Her father was an ardent and enthusiastic partner in bed. "You know Martha talked to me after she drove with you."

"I did just fine." said Bob waving a hand. "The car just has a lot more power than I'm used to." he said dismissively. "It was Martha that was the problem. She just got way too excited, that's all. And besides, Becca just had that, what do you call it? - drivers training? - not long ago. Sometimes I think you girls have forgotten most of the rules." He grinned as he said it. He loved being a backseat driver in a strange twist of tradition.

"Well for pity's sake don't try driving anywhere there is a lot of traffic. The last thing we need is for you to get arrested for driving without a license. Can you imagine what trying to explain to the Police about you would be like?"

"I promise to be careful." he said blithely.

Two hours later Becca showed up, excited enough that her grandmother thought it was odd. Why would the girl be so tickled at getting to give a driving lesson? She dismissed it though. All the women liked to spend time with Bob.

Bob never got to drive. Instead he gave instructions to Becca to go places he remembered that might be remote and private. All of them now had housing developments or strip malls on the property. So they decided to go up into the mountains to the east. A State forest provided the perfect place to get off the road and go for a little hike. Becca, thinking ahead, got a blanket out of the trunk and they set off into the woods.

They found a spot that had not only a little meadow of thick grass, but a truly amazing view of the valley below and spread the blanket out.

Both were a little nervous as they sat, side by side, initially just looking out at the lovely vista below.

"Are you all right?" asked Bob finally.

"Uh huh." said Becca, dipping her head and not looking at him.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to." he offered.

She looked at him. "I do want to." she said firmly. "I kind of miss..." her voice trailed off and she blushed. She tried to explain. "With boys I go out with it always seems tense, like something could go wrong any second. But with you I know it will be just fun."

"Hey, I kind of miss it too." he said, more to make her feel less nervous than anything else.

He decided to adopt what he perceived as a fatherly approach. He had, after all, had all the fears that any man has when a daughter is born to him. Even when they were babies Bob had dreaded the day they would come home and announce that they liked a boy, or wanted to go on a date. That's probably harder on a father before it happens than after it happens ... depending on the boy.

So he began telling her what boys wanted. Well ... what boys wanted when he was growing up.

It turned out things hadn't changed all that much.

She agreed that boys wanted to kiss, and to touch her breasts and to see her breasts. She knew well that their hands would wander downward to her buttocks and hip and try to get between her legs. She had always resisted that, if for no other reason than she knew she was supposed to. But everything else felt so good she just knew that that would feel good too, which was why she was now having second thoughts about keeping those hands away. She told him as much as they talked.

"Yes, sweetheart," he said patiently, "but what I'm trying to tell you is that the feelings get very intense." She looked doubtful still, so he asked her. "Haven't you ever felt like if a boy stopped doing something you'd just die?"

She thought about that for a few seconds and shook her head. "No." she said simply.

He looked at her, astonished. "You mean it's always been easy to stop?" he asked to confirm.

She looked at him and nodded. "Sure. I mean it feels nice and all that, and I like doing that, but I always tell them when it's time to stop and take me home." She frowned. "They don't want to stop, but I don't have any problem at all."

Maybe boys hadn't changed much, but it sure sounded to Bob like girls had changed. In his day when it was time to stop and take the girl home she loudly proclaimed that she didn't want to stop at all ... and that was why it was time to stop and go home. Then again, this beautiful young thing was only eighteen. Bob clearly remembered what he had been like only five years ago ... sort of ... and he knew full well that what he had learned between being eighteen and being married for a couple of years had taught him an astonishing amount about how to really please a woman. And what he lacked then, Martha and now June were making up for by coaching him on how to make them virtually sing in bed. The only thing he had brought into the bedroom that they had never experienced was what he did with his mouth and tongue between their legs. That, oddly enough, they had never experienced. Well, maybe not so oddly, considering that their sole lover had been unconscious for the entire time they'd been making love with him, not counting the last month.

At any rate, Bob decided that he'd have to try a few things with this delightful young thing to see for himself if girls had changed so much as her comments indicated.

"Let's ... reenact some of the things you've done," he suggested, "and I'll do what Phillip wants to do with you, and then you can see how you feel about it. How's that?"

Becca nodded, almost violently. She wanted to know what it was like.

"How should we start?" he asked. His new moral attitude still wasn't settled in, and he felt strange making advances toward this young girl.

"Well," she said gazing into his eyes. "Most of the time the guys just start grabbing at my boobs. But I like to kiss for a while first."

Bob made an internal grimace. Boys were always pushing the envelope. That hadn't changed either.

They started sitting up, and just leaning into each other for light, soft kisses. He gave her several and pulled back to see what she thought. Her eyes were round.

"That's really different now that you're awake." she said.

She came back for more and soon they were lying on the blanket, their bodies pressed together as the kisses got longer and wetter and hotter. He put one hand on her hip and slid it upwards, stroking her side gently. When he thought the time was about right, he let his fingers drift to her breast and she kissed him harder. They broke again.

"Is that about right?" he asked.

She nodded.

"They want to feel them under your shirt, don't they?" he asked.

"Yes." she was breathing deeper now.

"Will you take your shirt off?" he asked.

She smiled. "Not for them, but for you I will."

She sat up and unashamedly unbuttoned her shirt and shrugged out of it. Her utilitarian white bra bulged with soft skin. She reached behind her and undid the clip, shrugging her shoulders to let the cups fall and the straps slide down her arms. The bra ended up in her hand and she froze as he stared. These were young, vibrant breasts. It wasn't that Martha and June and Betty were old and baggy or anything. Quite the opposite, actually. All three women had taken pretty good care of themselves, but their breasts were heavy and gravity wins in the end. Their nipples were more well formed than Becca's, primarily because their nipples had been sucked into shape by numerous infant mouths during innumerable sessions of breast feeding. In his memory, his wife's breasts were more like these, except that they weren't as large, or heavy. Three babies had made Valerie's nipples almost constantly prominent. She bought hard, cone shaped bras that made hard perfect points in her blouses just because of those nipples. A bra looked like what it was - a bra. Anything else would have telegraphed those nipples to the world, and she didn't want to do that.

Becca's, though, had never been sucked. Her breasts were firm and round, with no hint of sag to them. They looked hard as rocks, with pink upturned nipples on them that were flat looking, like small coral-colored buttons. Bob stared at them so intently that she actually leaned back a little, anxiously.

"Are they okay?" she asked.

"They're beautiful, Becca." he said. He said it in that voice that all the women had learned was an honest compliment. It made her tingle to hear that voice.

"Are you going to touch them?" she asked. The men in her experience had to be fought off, rather than encouraged, and this was a strange situation for her.

"Oh, yes, I'm going to touch them." he said. "I'm going to touch them like the boys will want to touch them."

He lay her back down and leaned over her to take one nipple in his mouth. She wasn't prepared for the action, or the feeling, and gasped. There was a kind of almost pain, so exquisite that she couldn't breathe for a few seconds. Then as he suckled and played with the nipple she dragged in a ragged breath and let it out in a long, long sigh. He moved to the other one and began pinching the first, rolling it between his fingers, never letting up, pulling at it and then pressing it into her flesh. That flesh looked hard as a rock, but was as soft as a baby's butt. Bob realized he was the one that was rock hard.

He pulled back to find that Becca's mouth was open wide and her eyes closed tight.

"You ready for me to stop yet?" he asked.

She opened her eyes. "No! It feels better than I thought, but I'm fine. Aren't you going to do it some more?"

"I'll do some more later. Right now I want to kiss you some more."

"Okay" she agreed readily.

This time, as they kissed, he pressed for and got entry with his tongue. He slid his hand to her bare midriff and stroked her skin just above where her ovaries were, almost like he was trying to coax them into dropping an egg for him. Becca wiggled and her leg went over his. She pressed her pussy against his leg and ground it against him. Bob pushed her away and his fingers went to the button of her shorts. He fumbled, not able to get it because it buttoned backwards from how men's pants buttoned. Her hand brushed his out of the way, her lips still locked on his, and suddenly her shorts were open and unzipped.

Bob didn't wait. He slid his hand into the front of her panties. Instead of easing things along, his fingers pressed for entry and her legs parted as she lifted one knee. Bob felt sparse hair and then the beginning of her slippery slit. He pushed, forcing his hand between the cloth and her skin and slid a finger right into her pussy.

Becca was enjoying herself immensely. She was making out with a man she felt very close to, even though she'd only been able to actually have a conversation with him for just a few weeks. His kisses were much better, somehow, than those she'd gotten from her dates, and what he'd done to her breasts was just flat fabulous. She was beginning to think she should have let her dates do more with her breasts after all when he sought entry into her pants. This was what she came here for, and she impatiently helped him get access to her pussy.

Then things happened that she hadn't planned on. She'd had her own finger in her pussy on numerous occasions.