Chapter 5

Their laundry was done, and they were well fed. Now, in the motel room, at only eight-thirty, neither was really sleepy. Jennifer turned on the TV and started channel surfing.

As happens more often than many would like to admit, Jennifer stopped on a channel only long enough to determine what kind of show was airing. Bob saw three or four programs he would have liked to investigate further, but had no chance to as the screen changed.

There were sixty-nine channels.

When she started through them again, and she landed on the Discovery Channel, Bob said, "Hold it there." She did, leaving it there for maybe thirty seconds.

"It's D-d-discovery," she said, and then pushed the button.

"Why do women do that?" complained Bob. "That looked interesting."

"'C-c-cause there m-m-might be s-s-something b-b-better on," she said.

"How will you know?" asked Bob. "You never stop long enough to actually find out what a show is about."

She ignored him. He lay back on the bed and covered his eyes with one arm. The static of the changing sounds was a cadence in his ears, until suddenly there was silence.

"Not going to watch anything?" he asked, his eyes still covered.

"Wh-wh-what d-d-do you th-th-think this m-m-might b-b-be about?" she stuttered.

He uncovered his eyes and lifted his head. The screen was a blue pay per view screen with the words "Bambi Bangs Baltimore" on it.

"You don't want to see that," he said.

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

"It's porn, that's why."

"S-s-so?"

Bob snorted. "Look, Princess, I'm in enough trouble already if your father finds out I brought you on the Babe Bike and talked to you about sexual feelings. If I let you watch porn he'll kill me for sure. And that's only if your mother doesn't get to me first."

"B-b-babe b-b-bike?"

He groaned. That part wasn't supposed to come out. Not ever, if possible.

"It's just what I call that bike," he tried.

"S-s-so why w-w-would Daddy b-b-be m-m-mad about th-th-that?" she asked.

"Never mind," said Bob. "No porn. Got it?"

"N-n-not fair!" she wailed. "Y-y-you're t-t-treating m-m-me like a b-b-baby!"

"No I'm not," said Bob. "We already had this conversation. You're all grown up. You're feeling grown up stuff, but it's all new and confusing. The last thing you need is to see something inflammatory like porn. It would probably scare you to death!"

"W-w-would n-n-not!" she pouted. It was ruined by the stammer, but Bob didn't laugh. He also didn't point out that she sounded like a ten year old.

"Do you love me?" he asked. She didn't seem to want to answer, so he asked her another question that she might. "Do you trust me?"

She nodded twice.

"Then take my word for it, sweetie. That movie is not something you'd enjoy. Maybe in a couple of years you might, but not now. Not as you're finding out the first little bits of what sex feels like. Okay?"

She sniffed, but then clicked away from the pay per view channel. She finally settled on an old movie in black and white which Bob wasn't really interested in. He put a pillow under his head and then used his old SEAL training to clear his mind and find sleep.

Bob woke to the soft sound of rhythmic whining. He recognized it instantly as the sound of a woman having a theatrical orgasm. It had that fake sound to it that was too regular and too repetitive, used the world over by actresses in the porn industry.

He opened his eyes to a blue-white flickering light that told him the sound was coming from the TV. The volume had been reduced to almost nothing. Jennifer was sitting on the floor, Indian style, leaning forward, her face only a foot from the screen. He could only see about half of the screen because her body blocked the rest of it.

He saw her head turning toward him and he closed his eyes to slits. The rest of the screen was revealed as she turned, showing a woman on all fours, with a man pounding into her from behind. Her moans weren't even in time with his thrusts.

"Damn, Bambi, you're the best I've ever had," said a male voice listlessly.

"Don't stop, Mr. Blakely," was the female reply. "I've never done this before, but I like it!"

Jennifer, after making sure Bob hadn't moved, turned back around and leaned forward again, just in time to see a close-up from behind and below, showing a mostly rigid penis sawing in and out of a possibly damp pussy. The balls swung with each thrust, but looked kind of wimpy in their sack, to Bob.

He thought about sitting up and scaring the crap out of Jennifer. She'd obviously decided not to obey him. He saw her elbow move and had to lift his head to see over the end of the bed. Her right hand was busy inside those gym shorts he'd bought her.

Just then the screen started flipping back and forth between Bambi's face, which looked like she might be on a steep first drop of a rollercoaster ride, and Mr. Blakely's face, which looked a little like someone might be dribbling boiling oil all over his back. Then the camera went to the traditional scene of the penis being pulled from the vagina and masturbated to completion on her back. Jennifer leaned back, possibly in shock, as white splatters landed all over the woman's back. The former "virgin" promptly reached back to smear it all over herself, as if she instinctively knew that would feel wonderful or some such thing.

Jennifer's hand had stopped moving when she saw cum being spurted for the first time. Now, as the scene changed to show Bambi sauntering up to a storefront, she slumped. Bob watched Jennifer watch Bambi say she was applying for a modeling job. Then, of course, she was introduced to the agent, who promptly proceeded to audition her by having her suck his cock. Bambi made the requisite complaints that she'd never done this before, and had never heard of this being part of an audition, but then attacked the prick hanging out of the man's pants like a pro.

Jennifer's hand got busy again and she let out a little whimper as Bambi deep throated the agent. When the man started undressing both himself and the applicant, Bob decided she'd seen enough.

Explosively he sat up and bounced, releasing a war cry that they probably heard two rooms over. Jennifer actually vibrated, her whole body shaking as if she was operating a jack hammer. She screamed satisfyingly loud and fell over onto her side, huddling into a fetal position. Bob reached past her and punched the off button on the TV set. The room went dark and silent, except for Jennifer's blubbering.

"Go to bed," he said firmly.

"I c-c-can't!" she sobbed. "You s-s-scared m-m-me! I p-p-peed my p-p-pants!"

Bob wanted to laugh, but he knew it was the wrong thing to do just then. Maybe later, a few years from now, they could laugh about it together, but not now.

"Then go change them and go to bed," he said.

"Ok-k-kay," she sniffled.

She got up, bumped into the bed and then reached the bathroom. She turned on the bathroom light and used it to find the backpack. It got dark again when she closed the door.

She stayed in the bathroom a long time. Bob used the time to strip down to his briefs and actually get into bed. He was about to get up to go knock when the light under the door went out and he heard it open. He heard the backpack thump to the floor and Jennifer pulling down the covers of her bed. It got quiet and he listened for her breathing, to try to gauge her emotional state.

"D-d-do y-y-you hate m-m-me?" she asked softly.

He didn't even pretend to have gone back to sleep.

"Of course not," he said.

"C-c-can I ha-a-ave a h-h-hug?"

He thought about the fact that all he had on was underwear.

"Not now," he said.

She started sniffling then. She sounded like she'd lost her last friend in the whole world.

"I'm not mad at you, Princess. The reason you have to wait for the hug is because all I have on right now is underwear," he explained.

"I d-d-don't c-c-care," she whimpered.

"Jennifer, I'm not mad at you, okay?"

"P-p-please?" she moaned.

Bob groaned. "Okay, one hug, but then you have to go right back to bed and go to sleep."

The covers whooshed as she threw them off and he heard her feet hit the floor between the two beds. He expected her to just lie down on top of the bedspread covering him, but she got under it instead, wiggling over to lie down on his left arm and press her body up against him. He felt her bare legs as they bumped up against his, and the undeniable softness and heat of her breasts pressing into his naked side made it clear that she wasn't wearing a bra under her T shirt. Her right arm wiggled and forced its way under him and she crushed herself to him.

"I'm s-s-sorry," she whined into his chest. Her hair tickled and he felt her lips move against his skin as she spoke.

"It's not that big of a deal, honey," he said, stroking her back.

"I j-j-just w-w-wanted to s-s-see what i-i-it was l-l-like," she said, moving her lips on his flesh again.

"I know," he sighed. "You're as stubborn as your mother."

"M-m-mommy's n-n-not stub-b-born," she said.

"Well you are."

"I m-m-miss her." That turned into more sobs and Bob practically had to hold her and comfort her.

"You'll get to see her tomorrow," he assured her. "You can even tell her I said she was stubborn, Okay?"

He could actually feel her relax in his arms as the tension left her body. He let her enjoy that for a few minutes before trying to make her get up and go back to her own bed.

"Okay," he said softly. "Now back to bed."

She didn't answer. She was like a dead weight on his arm, and the arm she had thrown over him was limp.

"Jen?"

No answer.

"Jennifer?"

He recognized the little wiggle she did, snuggling against him, as being the product of a voice disturbing her sleep.

He sighed. He wondered why shit like this had to happen to him.

He was reflecting on how good she felt in his arms as his own senses dulled and, like the girl in those arms, he nodded off.

Jennifer was having a most delightful dream when it began to be pulled away from her. She knew she was waking up, but tried to resist, calling the dream back. It vanished, though, and she opened her eyes. She was confused immediately. One reason was because it was still dark. Another was that she was in bed with someone. Who that was popped into her mind immediately. She breathed in his scent.

The dream she'd been having was stark in her mind. She had been on all fours, naked, like the woman in the Bambi movie. There had been a man behind her, just like in the movie, too. But what she'd been feeling was the seat of the motorcycle vibrating her clitty. She knew all about clitties now, after watching Mr ... what was his name? ... that man in the movie, brushing his tongue all over Bambi's clitty. In her dream, before being on all fours, she had been spread wide, like Bambi, but it had been Brad Pitt whose eyes were looking up at her as his tongue lashed her excited bud. That had felt like it did when her fingers mashed and pushed the slippery little bump around. Then he had turned her over and she'd felt his skin push against her bottom and the vibrations had begun.