Chapter 9

In her bedroom, Bobby took her in his arms and kissed her.

“Tonight, you do only what I say,” he said.

Her natural urge to control things rebelled, and he saw that in her eyes.

“I’m in charge, tonight,” he said. “Next time you can be in charge.”

“You were in charge last night,” she said, her voice sulky.

“Did I give you what you needed?” he asked.

She stared at him and stuck her lip out. “Yes.” She tried to pout obviously.

“I’m going to do that again tonight,” he said. In his mind he added “I hope.”

“Why do you have to be in charge?” she insisted.

“Because you like being in charge too much,” he said. “You think you know everything, but you don’t, and that limits your options. I’m going to teach you that there are always other options, and that you need to release control, sometimes, so those options will make themselves known to you.”

“Oh, all right!” she said, impatiently.

“And that’s another thing,” he said. “You’re impatient. You want to do something all the time. You need to learn how to stop, and wait for things to happen.”

“I don’t like you,” she said, petulantly.

“Yes you do,” he said.

“No I don’t“ she insisted, knowing she was being both argumentative and lying to be that way. She wondered why she insisted on doing that.

She found her jaw grasped in his fingers, and his eyes boring into hers.

“Tell me how you feel about me,” he said.

She felt a tiny thrill of fear, that was somehow not dangerous, because she trusted him. And yet, he was strong enough to do whatever he wanted. He had proven that last night and, even though she knew she could pull away, the strength in his fingers on her jaw made her feel weak, somehow. This was all too new to her. She’d never met a man like him, and she’d always been in charge of whatever happened. At the same time, what he had brought her was fabulously precious ... she knew that deep in her heart. She wanted him. She wanted him tonight. But the only way she would get him, was by his rules. That caused another thrill of fear.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said. “Are you going to make me spank you?”

“You can’t spank me!” she said, jerking away from his hand.

“I don’t have to stay, either,” he warned.

“That’s not fair!” she whined. “Why are you doing this?”

“I already told you why I’m doing this. I want you to surrender ... to me ... just tonight. Then you can be in charge again.”

“But I’m paying you!” she moaned, using the last defense she could think of.

“I haven’t charged you a dime yet,” he said. “You hired me to give you what you need. I’m trying to do that, but you’re so stubborn I may not be able to.”

She curled her hands into fists, and felt the frustration building in her. Then, quite suddenly, she recognized that frustration for what it was. It controlled her. It did limit her options. She’d been frustrated ever since her father’s stroke, believing the doctors, who said he’d never communicate again. To them, communication meant talking, and her frustration with that had blinded her to other communications options. Yet Bobby, in ten minutes, had come up with a way that, while cumbersome, released her father from his silence. The things she had learned, just tonight, had blown her away. Once she had learned the intricacies of asking questions that could be answered yes and no, her mind had bubbled over with them. She had learned, for instance, that he had tuned that radio to that station on purpose, trying to tell her that he liked that music. Having all the time in the world, he had painstakingly listened to all the stations within reach of Hutchinson. His business mind had taken in the programming, commercials, and listener responses, and he had learned that, while he loved big band music, his station couldn’t compete. He had used the only thing he could think of to communicate with his daughter, and that was by leaving the radio on the station with the format he knew KDEF should move to, before it failed completely. Tonight, finally, thanks to Bobby, she had learned how he felt. For forty-five minutes she had fired questions at him about what changes to make, and his elation at being able to tell her what he thought she should do was clear.

Bobby was still standing there, waiting for her response. He was patient. Despite his ability to burst into action ... to overwhelm her with his passion ... he could stand and wait for her to react to something. Before, she would have demanded that he do what she wanted. Now ... she envied his patience.

“I’ll do what you want,” she said.

He put his fingers under her chin, this time, instead of grasping her jaw.

“Tell me how you feel about me,” he said.

“You’ve changed my life. You make me feel alive. You let Daddy talk to me. I’m going to let you ... I mean I want you to make love to me ... tonight ... even though you won’t wear a rubber. I hardly know you but ... I love you,” she said.

“You know I won’t ask you to marry me,” he said.

“Yes,” she said. “That would be ridiculous.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I don’t love you in that way. I might be able to some day ... I don’t know. A month ago I didn’t even have a sex life. This is all so new to me I don’t know what to think ... but I know I don’t think of you as a potential husband. I don’t know why.”

“All right,” he said. “I wanted to make sure we were straight on that. Go get me a chair.”

She started to ask why, but clamped down on her impatience and went to get a dining room chair. She bought it back and he set it against one wall and sat down.

“Okay, I want you to take off your clothes now. Are you wearing a bra?”

“Yes ... I knew Daddy would be here tonight.”

“Go ahead. I want to watch you get naked for me.”

She felt silly, at first, unbuttoning her blouse, while he just sat there and watched. When her blouse was off, she reached for the clasp to her bra.

“Not yet,” he said. “I want to see you in just your bra and panties.”

She slid her slacks down and stepped out of them, feeling embarrassed, somehow. She knew that was silly, because he’d seen her naked ... had made glorious love to her.

“You’re beautiful,” he said softly.

Her embarrassment fled, and she felt the blush that resulted from his compliment.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“I can’t wait to see your gorgeous breasts,” he said. “Come here. Let me undo you.”

She stepped out of her shoes, and went to stand in front of him, her back turned. His fingers traced down her sides, to her hips, and then went to the catch of the bra. She felt it tighten, and then go loose. For some reason she crossed her arms, holding her bra to her breasts. He turned her around and gently made her move her arms. He pulled the bra off her shoulders, slowly, letting more and more of her breasts be exposed, until it was hanging on her wrists, stretched across her abdomen.

“So beautiful,” he sighed. He leaned forward and pulled her down a bit, to suckle at one nipple. She watched the top of his head, felt the crinkle and saw the nipple he wasn’t sucking stiffen. When he let go, she automatically offered him the other one.

“Later,” he said. “Now the panties.”

She felt a stab of irritation that he hadn’t made the other nipple feel good, but pushed that away, suddenly anxious to be naked for him. Her shyness was gone, replaced by ... something else ... as she watched his eyes watching her. She felt the sudden urge to tease, and pushed her panties down just enough to expose her pubic hair.

“These?” she asked. “Take these off?”

“Yes,” he said.

“But I’ll be naked,” she said, making her voice complain.

“Don’t make me spank you,” he warned.

The thrill of fear shot through her again, and she pushed her panties down, stepping out of them, and kicking them to one side. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, and ended up putting them on her hips. One foot was away from her, and she stood, hipshot.

“You are a very beautiful woman, Amanda Griggs,” he said, the appreciation clear in his voice. “Any man would want you.”

She felt her pussy clench, and her nipples tingle. Never had she just stood in front of a man who appreciated her like that ... with just his eyes and words. He stood.

“Now ... undress me,” he said.

She approached him eagerly, reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

“Slowly,” he cautioned. “Take your time and enjoy it.”

She slowed, and found that, as each button was exposed, and she saw a little more of his chest and abdomen, it was exciting. It changed from a utilitarian exercise to remove clothing to an opportunity to slowy unveil what she wanted to see. She’d always been the kind of person who tears into a present, ripping the paper off, impatient to see what was inside. She’d never understood people who carefully removed the wrapping, teasing themselves before unveiling what was inside ... extending the anticipation.

Now she understood that. When she got to his belt, he sat down, suddenly, and offered her his boot-covered feet. She tried just pulling on them, but that didn’t work. He told her to turn around, and straddle his leg. She did so, knowing that she was sticking her butt in his face, as she bent over to grasp the back of the boot heel, like he told her to. His hands came to her butt, steadying her as she pulled, and the boot came off. She jumped as his fingers darted between her legs to stroke her pussy lips, and then pulled back. She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes smoky.

“Now the other one,” he said.

With this one she spread her own feet wider, bending over and almost wagging her butt in his face. He put one hand on her butt, and reached through her legs to stroke her pussy lips as she worked ... not too hard ... on his other boot. She pulled, and wagged her butt, and pulled, until he brought one slippery finger back and suddenly inserted it in her rectum.

Her jerk caused the boot to pop off and she fell backwards, to land on his lap. His hands went around her and cupped her breasts.

“That was nasty,” she complained.

“You were playing,” he responded. “Get up. Now you can do my pants.”

She stood, still feeling the peculiar tingle in her rectum, where his finger had entered her briefly. She was astonished to feel an erotic urge to have him play there some more, and pushed that away. She concentrated on his jeans, getting them undone and pulling them down over his hips. She pulled his underwear down with them, and sighed when his erect penis lunged into the air in front of her face.

She tore her eyes away from it, long enough to get the jeans over his feet, and then took his socks off too. She looked up to see him standing with his hands on his hips, staring down at her.

“Stay down there,” he ordered. “Touch me.”

She was only too glad to do that. Her hand came up and she played with his penis, sliding the skin back off the head, and watching, fascinated as she made it slide back forward. She moved it to one side, and saw that his balls looked the same ... full and round.

“Kiss it,” he said.

She blinked. She’d never done that before, and her natural inclination was to believe that he had much more in mind than just a kiss.

“Just a kiss ... right?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“For now,” he said.

She leaned forward, pursing her lips, and used her hand to make the foreskin bunch up, covering the tip completely. She kissed that, and marveled at how soft the bunched up skin was. It wasn’t like his lips - it was softer than that - but it was almost like kissing lips. She rubbed her lips against the skin, and felt it move around. She liked that feel.

“Use just the tip of your tongue and play with it a little,” he said.

Kissing it had been fun, so she let herself do what he said, using the tip of her tongue to spear into the collar of soft skin. She felt her tongue run into the tip, under the skin. It was hard and smooth, a completely different feel, and it was fascinating. She stopped to taste, but the only sensation was of skin. He smelled ... fresh!

He let her play, and it was only natural for her to push with her lips, until they moved the collar of skin back enough that her lips could try feeling the smooth hard skin of his glans too. The new sensations were curiously satisfying to her, and she realized that she liked doing this. She was surprised, because she’d always thought of what she was doing as something nasty ... something women were forced to do ... and not something women liked. But she liked it. She ‘nipped’ at the tip with her lips, and liked that, too.

“Put the tip in your mouth,” he said softly.

Just ten minutes ago she would have rebelled at that, but now, she let her lips slide back, moving wider as the thickness of what she was putting in her mouth increased. That loose skin got in the way, and she pulled it back with her hand, until the whole head was uncovered. Her mouth was suddenly full of hard, slick skin. It fit perfectly, like a huge pacifier, and her cheeks caved in by instinct as she sucked.

“Ohhh yeahaaa,” he moaned. “That feels so good. You’re being a very good girl, Mandy.”

She felt another surge of emotion. Only her father had ever called her Mandy. No one else had ever tried, but she would have corrected them, if they had. Only the man she loved more than life itself could call her that.

And now Bobby, she realized. Bobby could call her that too. She sucked harder, and took more of his penis into her mouth. There was a point at which it was unmanageable, and she didn’t try going farther. Instead, she just enjoyed the feel of that part sliding along her lips. She pulled back and off, to swallow the saliva that had built up, and then slid her lips back on.

“You’re very good at that,” he sighed.

She pulled off long enough to say: “I’ve never done this before.”

“I don’t want to cum in your mouth,” he said. “Stop now.”

She didn’t mind doing that either. Sucking it was fun, but she wasn’t at all sure that tasting his semen would be a good thing.

She stood, to be pulled in for a long kiss, with his penis rubbing between her legs. She thought it was odd he’d want to kiss her, after where her lips had just been, and then remembered kissing him after his lips were wet with her own juices. She had tasted that tangy flavor on his lips, but had been so horny that she just didn’t care.