Chapter 6

Bob wasn't used to things being muddy or vague. Most of his adult life had been spent in an environment where things were pretty much black or white. Someone was the enemy ... or he wasn't. If he was the enemy, you killed him. If he wasn't, you watched him to make sure he wasn't. A task either needed doing or it didn't. Women were either candidates for bed games or they weren't.

Jennifer was suddenly very vague indeed. She was blossoming, sexually. That much was clear. Even if it was unintended, it was happening, and the purely male part of his mind put her in the bed game category. But she was his best friend's daughter, his "niece" for all intents and purposes, which meant she wasn't fair game and should never have had that pretty pussy of hers pressed against the clitty whizzer.

She was innocent ... pure as the driven snow. He was sure of that. And yet her innocence was undeniably beginning to fray a bit around the edges. She'd watched that porn, even though he'd told her not to. She'd intentionally masturbated - on the bed, again in front of the TV and on the Babe Bike. He suddenly wondered now if her hand on his morning wood had been accidental. She did know he'd seen her naked loins two mornings ago, and she just about had to know that she'd exposed herself to him just a few minutes past. He'd seen emotions ripple across her face as she realized he was in the room and had obviously seen her sex.

The trouble was he couldn't tell what those emotions were.

She'd been obviously embarrassed the first time. Now, this second and much more intimate view had resulted only in a casual kiss on the cheek and what sounded to his ears like a sultry greeting. How many women had gotten out of his bed in the morning and said exactly the same thing, in exactly the same tone of voice?

He heard the toilet flush and was startled to find that he hadn't moved. He was still standing in the middle of the bedroom in his jockeys. He almost jumped toward the backpack and hastily pulled out clothing. He had his jeans on and was pulling a shirt over his head when she came back into the room. He suddenly had no idea what to say to her.

"Hungry?" was what came out of his mouth.

"Mm-hmm," she responded. "D-d-don't l-l-look while I g-g-get d-d-dressed."

"Sure," he said.

He went to the door and flipped a switch, which turned on the two lamps above the beds. Then, moving sideways and facing away from her, he went to the end of his bed to sit and put socks on. His eyes lifted to the big flat screen of the TV on the credenza and he felt almost guilty as he looked for her reflection in the dark glass. She was standing behind him, hopping up and down as she wiggled into her jeans. He watched the reflection of her naked breasts bounce up and down and cursed himself for being a dirty old man. Then he cursed himself for not closing his eyes. Then he gave up and watched shamelessly, admiring her youthful curves and the pristine, innocent sexuality of a young woman who was not trying to be sexual at all, but just couldn't help it. He almost sighed as she dropped a T shirt down over her body and wondered idly why she hadn't put on a bra.

Jennifer's thought processes weren't quite so complicated. As she tugged jeans that were getting too small over her hips, the only thought she gave to the fact that she'd slept, almost naked, with a man, all night, was the fact that she had liked doing it. She'd liked it a lot and she hoped she got to do it again very soon. She then reflected on the fact that Bob had seen her in a very intimate way, and that it had made her feel good. That seemed crazy, somehow, because she'd never even thought about exposing her nakedness to a man. And yet she couldn't deny that she'd not only felt no embarrassment ... she'd liked that, too.

That made her think of what it might be like if some other man saw her that way and that thought left her cold. She wasn't interested in just any man seeing her - only Bob. And that reminded her of the words she'd whispered in the night. She pulled her shirt over her head and began raking fingers through her hair to get the big tangles out. She knew something had changed about the way she thought about Bob, but she couldn't quite understand what that was. She'd always loved him, but it felt so completely different now. Her fingers stopped combing her hair and she looked at Bob, who was sitting rigidly at the end of the bed. He had one ankle sitting on top of the other knee, but the sock that was supposed to go on his bare foot was just hanging from his hand. He was frozen again ... not looking at her, as she'd asked him to do. And that was odd too, because she'd only told him not to look because that's what she was supposed to do ... not because she'd be embarrassed if he saw her naked. She suddenly felt hot at the thought of him seeing her naked.

He was still rigid and she was reminded of a game they'd played when she was a little girl, where he'd chase her, threatening to tickle her. She could freeze him by yelling, "red light," though of course it came out "R-r-red l-l-light!" and then thaw him, when she was far enough away by calling the light green. She had loved the terror of almost being caught by the big man, but having the magical ability to avoid it just by telling him to stop. Of course he had the same magic when she was chasing him, which was a little frustrating, but she'd still loved the game. She spoke impulsively.

"Ok-k-kay, g-g-green l-l-light."

His head tilted first, and his shoulders fell from their rigid position. He began putting the sock on. She watched him do that and then pull his boots on. That warm ball in her belly flared as he stood and stretched and she saw muscles moving under his shirt. She went to him and slid her arms around to feel those muscles as she hugged him tightly.

"Th-th-thank you," she said softly.

"What for?" came his deep voice.

"Ev-v-verything," she said.

"I thought you were hungry," he said, his voice sounding strained as he felt her soft breasts pressing against his chest.

"I am," she said, pushing him away. "W-w-we n-n-need to hur-r-ry. I w-w-wan't to s-s-see my p-p-parents!"

Bob shook his head. She was such a puzzle to him, suddenly. So grown up one minute, and so much a girl the next.

Breakfast was completely uneventful, almost a polar opposite from the last time they'd faced each other in a booth. No one looked at them oddly. When she pointed to the menu item she wanted, and said "T-t-toast," the waitress simply wrote it down on her pad. People went to and fro without seeming to notice them at all. Thirty minutes later they were putting on helmets and fastening backpacks to the bike.

Jennifer climbed onto the bike first, feeling the lean of the bike as it rested on the jiffy stand. She stood awkwardly on the foot pegs and tried to adjust the pillow the way she wanted it. She was looking forward to the ride now, and not just because she'd get to see her parents. It was difficult to do what she wanted, though, because the bike leaned too much.

"Hang on a sec," said Bob. He swung his leg across his saddle and stood the bike up. She overbalanced and he compensated automatically, pushing with his right leg to stabilize the machine. She sat on the pillow and then leaned forward to test it. It wasn't quite right and she stood again, one hand on his shoulder, to move the pillow a little. He turned the key and the big motor rumbled to life as she sat back down. She leaned forward and felt the luscious zings she now wanted to feel. She leaned back, just to make sure she could get away from the stimulation if she wanted to, and then leaned forward again to snake her hands around his waist. Her hands landed on his belt buckle and she squeezed him.

He turned his head. "Ready?" he called over the noise of the motor.

She squeezed again. She was very ready.

It never occurred to Jennifer to count her orgasms. She just had one when she wanted to, and then leaned back to rest until she was ready to have another one.

Bob, however, was paying much more attention. She had fiddled with that pillow much more than would be necessary to just sit on it. And, as she leaned forwards and back, his suspicions about what she'd been doing the day before were confirmed. He almost laughed as he realized she was working the bike, instead of the bike working her. Her response wasn't quite as transparent today as it had been in the past. He could tell when she got off, because there was a tightening of her arms and her fingers pressed through his shirt, but it wasn't quite so obvious.

By the sixth time she squeezed him, he was painfully erect in his pants, and couldn't do a thing about it. In the next fifty miles she squeezed him that way sixteen times. When he stopped for gas, she just leaned back, shifting to the right a little to adjust for the tilt of the bike, laid the back of her helmet on top of the sissy bar and just closed her eyes and smiled.

Bob would never understand why he said it, but it just came out of his mouth.

"You know ... it's probably possible to overdo that."

Her eyelids flicked up and her head fell forward. Blue eyes framed by the helmet gave him a smoky look he'd definitely seen in other women's eyes, but which shocked him to the core, coming from this pair. She didn't blush or avert her eyes.

"Nope," she said simply. Then her eyes cleared and her cheeks went pink. She leaned forward to put her hands on the king seat and got off the bike. Now her eyes were averted, as she turned ninety degrees away from him. "I'll b-b-be r-r-right b-b-back," she gasped and then practically ran to the front doors of the convenience store.

Sitting in the stall, Jennifer didn't know whether to feel excited or embarrassed ... guilty or worried. Conflicting thoughts tried to claim her consciousness. The closer they got to her parents, the more she worried, not knowing what she'd find when they got there. But there wasn't anything she could do about that and it had been easy to let the delicious feelings push all that away as they sped down the road. She could actually feel each orgasm building now, and could adjust the pressure of her pussy against the seat of the bike to bring it quickly, or revel in the anticipation. It was exciting to be able to control the feelings, but she felt like she should be thinking more about her parents, instead of ... what she was thinking about. Uncle Bob knew what she was doing! That had been clear in that cryptic comment he'd made. She flushed again at the instantaneous understanding that had come to her when his words had sunk in, and the comment that had popped out of her mouth.

She almost groaned. He was waiting for her. The bike was waiting for her. Her parents were waiting for her. She had to go, even if she had to face Bob, knowing that he knew what she'd been doing.

On the way out, she was determined to put the pillow where it would prevent her from using the bike like she had been.

The next hundred miles were torture for the girl. The pillow worked flawlessly. But then all she could think about was her parents, lying in hospital beds, horribly injured. A dark thought kept trying to push its way into her brain. What if they had died? She cried silently, letting the wind of their passage deal with the tears as she clung to Bob for strength. By the time they stopped for gas again she felt almost sick at her stomach.

"Only another forty-five minutes or so," said Bob, getting off the bike to lean back and stretch his back muscles. He'd noticed the difference in his rider on this leg. Her hands had lain limply across his stomach, her head against his back most of the time. He stood up and got a good look at her face. Her eyes were red and she'd been crying.

"What's wrong, baby," he asked, concerned.

"Wh-wh-what if th-th-they're d-d-dead?" She sobbed suddenly and he moved to embrace her. It was awkward with her still sitting on the bike and him standing beside it.

"They're not," he said into the side of her helmet, hoping he was right.

"B-b-but what i-i-if th-th-they are?" she whined.

He pulled back. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes and he worked the catch to release the helmet strap. She helped him pull it off and he cupped her chin.