Chapter 10

Principle gives way to hormones. It's the way of nature. Once she got him to kiss her, his resistence faded fast. She worked his pants loose and, once they were around his knees, he either had to pull them back up or take them off. Her face was serious as she pushed him down on the bed. She grunted as she pulled at his boots and then giggled as she tugged his pants legs off each leg. Her newfound comfort with all this allowed her to move forward, between his legs, and reach for the waistband of his jockeys. She could see the long lump that she knew was his stiff penis under them and her heart thudded in her chest as she uncovered it.

It was probably her obvious comfort level that was the straw that finally broke the proverbial camel's back. Bob's thighs and legs were hanging off the bed, so he couldn't raise his hips, but he rolled from one side to the other so that she could pull his briefs down over each butt cheek. Almost reverently she exposed his stiff prick, forgetting to completely remove his underwear as her curiosity claimed all her conscious thought. She just stared, at first.

"It's b-beautiful," she sighed, finally.

"Not as beautiful as you," said Bob. Her eyes flicked up to his, and he got a small smile, but then all her attention went back to his manhood.

"Y-y-you'll have t-to t-teach m-me," she said, examining the thing in front of her. It looked vaguely different than the ones in the pay per view movie. She couldn't decide why, but it was different, somehow.

"Let me get on the bed," he suggested.

She stepped back and he moved up next to where she'd been lying earlier.

"All you have to do is this," he said, reaching for his cock and stroking it slowly.

Jennifer understood then why his looked different than the one on the pay-per-view show. His had some kind of skin that covered the knob and moved out of the way when he made his hand go down. The men in the movie didn't have that. She knew there was a name for it. It had been mentioned in her sex ed class in school, but she couldn't remember what it was called.

She crawled on the bed and reached for him, remembering the feel of it that morning in her hand. All she'd done was squeeze it then. Now her hand replaced his and she was amazed when the skin under her hand moved easily, like it wasn't even attached to the hardness beneath. The big purple head was exposed, looking smoother and harder, somehow, than the rest of it. She licked her lips and, almost eagerly, leaned down to take that hard, shiny knob in her mouth.

"Ohhhh shiiit," groaned Bob. He sounded like someone was killing him and she pulled right back off.

"Am I h-h-hurting you?" she asked anxiously.

Bob wanted to laugh insanely, but held it in. "No," he gasped. "It just feels so good ... and I wasn't expecting it."

"Oh," she said.

Within five minutes, Jennifer decided this was quite possibly the most fun thing she'd ever done in her life. She loved the feel of the tight skin against her tongue, and the sounds Bob was making made her feel both powerful and successful. The shaft, gripped firmly in her hand, felt bumpy and interesting as the loose skin let her hand move back and forth a little while she sucked and licked and kissed her new plaything.

She knew, though, that it was supposed to spurt, but it wasn't doing that. She asked Bob why not and he explained that, while it felt perfectly wonderful, with her mouth alone, it was unlikely that would happen. He instructed her in the art of masturbating him. That, she decided, was a lot of work, because she had to hold him just so tightly, and move in just this manner, and at just that speed, before he pronounced she was doing it perfectly. Her arm was getting tired and she was about to give up when he groaned and the thing in her hand began spurting wildly.

She was delighted, and the ache in her arm was forgotten as she jerked furiously, watching with delight as thick white drops flew all over the place. She felt them hitting her skin and noted the heat in them. It never occurred to her to be put off by his fluid hitting her body. It was part of him, and she loved him, so she loved his semen on her, too.

Then he had to make her stop, because she just kept going. Her delight made her go to his face for kisses and she writhed on top of him, letting his fluids make a slick surface for her to wiggle around on.

Within a minute she was splayed on her back, like she'd been the previous night, and was delightedly humping her hips up as his thick finger pressed deeply into to her and his lips sent delicious thrills from her nipples to where that finger was sliding in and out of her.

"Wait!" he said, and she complained loudly when his finger vanished from her pussy.

She raised her head to see him getting ready to do what one of the men had done to Bambi, and then she felt like she'd been transported to someplace she couldn't even have imagined could feel so good as his tongue replaced his finger.

He gave her three orgasms with his tongue and she welcomed each one like it was her long lost sister. Because of the bike, she was fully aware that she could have orgasm after orgasm. Because of the bike, she was used to having orgasm after orgasm. Half an hour later, Bob was wondering if he'd bitten off more than he could chew ... metaphorically speaking ... because she wasn't ready to quit after half a dozen orgasms.

He moved back up to lick and suck at her nipples and dug his finger deep, feeling for her cervix with the callused tip. She squirmed and moaned, jerking her pelvis frantically as another orgasm ripped through her.

"I l-love this!" she gasped. "I l-love you!"

It ended up taking two more to bring her to limp submission, and then, as before, she wanted to be held.

Bob turned out the light, got back in bed, and held her as they both drifted off to sleep.

Once again, the older man and the young woman slept dreamlessly, though they stayed in contact this time. And this time, Bob woke first, to the inevitable mixture of sensations that were both pleasant and not so pleasant. Having her in his arms was pleasant. The feel of the dried residue of his spend gluing them together ... not so much. He also knew that, not having brushed his teeth the previous night, his morning breath would be atrocious. So he slipped out of bed and went straight to the bathroom to take a shower. He stopped at the commode long enough to relieve the pain in his bladder, which also wilted his morning wood.

He shouldn't have been surprised when she pulled the shower curtain back and stepped in with him. He still wasn't used to her newfound lack of modesty, though, and he jumped when the curtain moved. Her taste of making him do what she wanted had already developed into a much more assertive attitude, as was made clear when she pushed him to the back of the tub and got under the warm spray.

He smiled as she grabbed the soap and slid it all over her front and arms. It hadn't felt good to him, but her first experience waking up with dried cum on her skin apparently hadn't bothered her all that much, because as soon as she was clean, she turned around, slid her arms around him, and rubbed her naked front against his.

"Morning," she sighed.

He slid his hands down to cup and squeeze tight, round buttocks and felt his cock wake up. She lifted her face, obviously wanting a kiss, and he gave her a quick peck on the lips. She stepped back and looked down at what she'd felt moving against her.

"Is it a-a-always h-h-hard?" she looked back up at him and the look in her eyes told him she was teasing.

"Around you it is," he said.

The teasing look left her eyes and was replaced by something he didn't recognize until she spoke again.

"Are y-y-you ever g-g-going to p-p-put it i-i-in m-me?"

His hands were still on her waist and they pushed her back reflexively.

"No!" he said. Her expression changed subtly and presaged a shift in attitude toward unhappiness. "That's off limits, Jennifer. Don't even think about that!"

She didn't move, other than to cock her head sideways just a little.

"Wh-wh-why n-n-not?" she asked.

"What happened to you?" he asked sternly. "Where is the sweet, innocent girl I've known all these years?"

"You happened t-t-to m-m-me," she said firmly. "I n-n-never th-th-thought ab-b-bout this s-stuff, unt-t-til y-y-you b-b-brought me h-here!"

Bob was pretty sure it was the bike that had done it, and not him. On the other hand, he was responsible for the bike, so maybe it was his fault. In any case, he had to quash this idea. They'd already done way more than was acceptable. It had been wonderful. There was no doubt about that, but he'd already had a hard enough time facing Don. He wouldn't be able to face the man at all if he did what she was apparently suggesting she wouldn't fight against all that much.

"Well, regardless of that, you're moving way too fast, little girl," he said firmly. "You're not having sex with me or anybody else. Not for a few more years."

It must be explained here that when Jennifer asked her original question, she asked it out of a queer combination of lust and curiosity. It's not fair to say she wanted Bob to "put it in her." Not then, anyway. It was more of a hormone driven logical progression to her thinking. Everything he'd done to her had felt so wonderful and her bursting heart loved him more and more each day. It wasn't strange that she'd be curious as to when things would move along ... even if she wasn't actually trying to move them along.

And, because Jennifer's social maturity was lagging a bit, along with her lack of real experience with men, it wasn't odd for his flat denial that anything of the sort would happen to flip the switch that is in all young women. That switch seems to be associated with whatever it is in a girl that brings out stubbornness and the desire to pout and get what she wants ... even if she isn't quite sure exactly what that is.

In other words, when he said she couldn't have it ... she suddenly wanted it.

It was most likely a product of the fact that Jennifer was, in fact, younger emotionally than she was physically, that caused her to think that she could manipulate him. She'd often gotten what she wanted just by pouting. But now she'd had just a taste of the power most women learn they have over men. So it was probably normal, considering her limited experience that she thought sinking to her knees and sucking his penis into her mouth might get her what she thought she wanted.

He disabused her of that notion immediately, when he pushed her head back and pulled his penis out of her mouth.

"Nice try, Princess," he said sternly. "You're clean, and I'm clean. It's time to go eat so we can go see your parents again."

He pulled her up, turned her around, pulled the shower curtain back, and the room resounded with the wet crack of his hand on her right butt cheek. With a startled and angry "Eeeek!" she jumped out of the tub. The only thing that saved her from going down in a heap was the bath mat that Bob had put down. Bob turned off the water and stepped out. He grabbed two towels and threw one in her face while he used the other one to quickly wipe down his body.

"I don't l-l-l-ike y-y-you!" she shouted.

"Good," he said. "Maybe that will keep you a virgin, like you should be!"

She got so mad she just spluttered. Bob simply left the bathroom and got dressed.

She was still pouting when she stalked out of the bathroom. She was still naked, of course, and while she was mad-perhaps because she was mad-she made no effort to get dressed quickly. Maybe she thought she was tempting him. He simply put his jacket on and said he had to check the bike's oil and would wait for her there.

She stayed mad. He could tell because she didn't put her arms around him when they left the parking lot. Instead she put the palms of her hands on the back of the king seat, which rose just high enough to provide some lumbar support for the driver. He could feel her pushing on the seat, perhaps in an attempt to lessen the effect of the clitty whizzer. He grinned at the concept that she was avoiding things sexual this morning. If he could keep her in that frame of mind, the situation might become more manageable. She'd calm down eventually, and then maybe she'd listen to him when he tried to reason with her.