Chapter 15

I woke with a bladder so full and painful that it demanded instant attention. There was no choice but to extricate myself from her arms and get to the john quickly. She mumbled, but then just rolled onto her face when I left the bed. Her naked backside seemed to rise a bit, as if she was trying to wiggle to her knees for some reason.

When I returned, she hadn't moved. I stared at her soft butt and thought about what to do. I was sure, at this point, that if I played with her, she'd be more than happy to make love. I would too, for that matter. I looked at the clock. It was eight thirty, almost criminally late in the day to be getting up.

I slapped her ass, trying to make it sting, but not leave a mark and she yelped.

"Get up!" I said loudly. "Your mother's probably at the back door getting ready to come in after you!"

She yelped again and flailed in the bed, bouncing out of it to stand, wild eyed, looking around. Then her eyes cleared and went to my face. I realized I'd made a mistake by not getting dressed first, but then found out I was wrong when she slapped my shoulder.

"That hurt!" she complained. "I thought you loved me!"

"I do love you," I said. "It's eight-thirty in the morning and you never went home last night."

"So?" She was unrepentant. "I'm on vacation."

"Well your mother isn't, and neither am I," I said.

"So go do your chores," she said indifferently. "I'm a mess, and it will give me a chance to get cleaned up before we go over for breakfast."

"Breakfast is probably long over," I said.

"I know how to cook," she said, sticking her tongue out at me.

She looked good, and my pecker reacted. I looked down at the half hard thing.

"Ohhhhh," she cooed. "You DO love me." Then she amazed me by stepping back. "Is sex all you think about? Go do your chores so I can clean up."

"Sex isn't all I think about," I complained.

"Then why are you wagging that thing at me?" she asked. She pushed a hand between her legs. I watched as she slid a finger inside herself and pulled it out. "I'm still slippery from last night," she said. "Didn't you get enough last night?"

"Um..." I stopped when she looked up at me.

"If you say you did you're in big trouble, mister!" she barked.

"What am I supposed to say then?" I croaked.

"Say you love me," she said firmly.

"I love you," I responded.

"Good," she said. "Do your chores, and then we'll eat breakfast, and maybe then I'll let you chase me around and wag that naughty thing at me some more."

Lynne woke in a state of almost, but not quite shock. Imagine the shock of being told you won the lottery, and are a millionaire. You know it's true, but you can't quite believe it. Then you wake up the next day and that shock is still there.

She felt his arm against her nose, where she'd pushed her face against him. They were lying side by side, but pressed together. She lifted her head carefully, only to find his head turned sideways. He was wide awake, and staring right at her.

"Hi," he said. He wasn't smiling ... exactly ... but his mouth looked satisfied.

"Good morning," she returned.

"I confess I've never been in this situation before, and have no idea what to do right now," he said.

His honesty about it made her feel a little bit better, because she wasn't sure what to say or do either.

"Well ... it's morning," she said. "What do you normally do in the morning?"

"Oh there is no way in the world I can think of this as a normal morning," he sighed. He did smile gently then.

The sudden awareness that she was stark naked sent blood rushing to her face. What made it so odd was that she wasn't used to being naked with a man, particularly a man she didn't know all that well, and that if felt completely normal to be naked in this situation, with this man.

"I know what I'd like to do," he said. His eyes changed and she saw in them what she'd heard in his voice in the dark, hours before. She almost shivered.

"Again?" she whispered, unbelieving.

"Do you remember what I said after supper last night?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"I said I could get used to that."

"Yes, I remember now." She smiled.

He rolled onto his side. His hand came to slide up her side, onto her back, and behind her head as his fingers tangled in her hair. He kissed her lips gently and then pulled back.

"I could get used to last night too."

Her heart thudded in her chest and she felt hot all over. The memories of last night were all tangled up in her mind. She remembered it all, but not in order. Instead it was more like a jigsaw puzzle. She knew what it would look like assembled, and she recognized where each piece went, but right now they were just bright bits of memory.

He kissed her again and his hand slid up to cup a breast. He wiggled down to suck at the nipple gently. She felt the lust explode in her again, and realized she'd felt that way almost all night long. But it had been dark then, and it was light now. With shock she realized it was daytime.

"Jill!" she gasped, looking around.

He let the nipple go and smiled. "I don't think she came home last night."

Lynne looked past her stiffened nipple at his eyes. "She didn't?"

"I'm pretty sure she didn't," he said. "I never heard her, and the police never showed up."

"The police?" Lynne frowned and blinked her eyes.

He grinned. "Anybody who came within fifty yards of this house last night would have called the cops and reported a murder in progress."

She blushed and pushed at him. "No they wouldn't!" she said.

"Did you ever see that old move called Porky's?" asked Zack.

She shook her head, looking confused at the change of subject.

"You didn't miss anything, except if you'd seen it, you'd know why my new nickname for you is Lassie." He grinned widely. She frowned, but there was a questioning look on her face too, so he went on. "I KNEW you'd be passionate. I just didn't know you'd be passionate AND loud."

She blushed. "I wasn't loud!"

He howled, like a coyote, and she slapped at him, yelling at him to stop, which made him howl even louder, until she was pushing and pinching. She got her feet into play and pushed hard. He slid off the edge of the bed and hit the floor hard as she gasped.

She was trying to get to the edge of the bed to see if he was all right when he stood up. His hard penis was right there, in front of her eyes. She'd felt it with her hands, and her mouth, in the dark. She'd felt it inside her, making her feel fantastic over and over again in the night. Now she knew what it looked like. She realized she was staring and craned her neck to see him grinning.

"You must be punished for that," he said, an exaggerated growl in his voice.

She squealed and tried to roll away, but he was on her in a flash and she knew she wouldn't have a chance. He'd been that young lion last night, once he'd figured out why she was there, and she'd been almost weak with the joy of submission, once he took over. Then, when it had ended much too soon, she'd become demanding, taunting him and teasing him, making him give her more of what she'd come for. Their roles had reversed four more times during the night as she found out what made a young man in his physical prime such a perfect match for a woman in her sexual prime.

Now, as she was overpowered and manhandled into position under him, his knees forced themselves between hers. She resisted, but not too hard. She bit, but only to inflame him. Her growl matched his as, uncharacteristically, she forced a hand between them and grasped his hard prong, bringing it expertly to her opening. When he lunged forward, skewering her, she hissed in his ear and her blunt nails dug into his back. Her legs wrapped around him, squeezing hard as his hips jabbed frantically and rapidly in short jerks.

She was sure he was going to pop quickly, when suddenly he pushed hard and stopped. She was delighted when he started the slow circular grind her hands had taught him in the night. Briefly she wondered where she'd learned that herself, but then the joy of what he was doing pushed that out of her mind, and she just welcomed the waves of pleasure he was bringing to her.

She reached with virtual open arms for the orgasm he brought her, straining out to reach it and pull it close to her, to be cherished. She wanted to laugh, because he was still howling, making high pitched keening sounds. But she couldn't laugh, because her throat was already busy somehow.

When the first orgasm was followed by another one she realized it wasn't him who was making coyote sounds now, but if felt too good to shame her.

"Oh yeah," she heard him grunt into her ear, as his penis spat streams of heat into her yet again. "I could definitely get used to this."

Jill and I did, in fact, hear the noise while we were still outside.

"What's that?" she asked, concern in her voice.

I was in the midst of deciding what "that" was when Jill opened the back door, at which time the sound got louder.

"Wait!" I called.

"Something's wrong!" she gasped.

"No!" I said, trying to make it into a loud whisper.

"Somebody's hurt!" she cried.

"Not hurt!" I gasped, reaching for the sleeve of her jacket. I was trying not to laugh.

"Bob!" she yelled, trying to break my grip.

"You sound like that!" I said, unable to keep the laughter out of my voice.

"What?" she looked confused.

"Last night," I laughed. "You sounded just like that. I think maybe your plan with Zack worked after all."

The wailing died away. There were other noises, but they weren't clear at all. The temptation to go closer ... to eavesdrop ... was strong in me. I realized my unused morning erection was back again, and started to feel guilty for envisioning Lynne, on all fours, howling at the ceiling, with a strong young man pounding into her from behind.

Jill whirled to face me. "I DID NOT!" she gasped, scandalized and looking almost upset. Then her face changed and she whirled back around to face where the noises were no longer coming from. "Mommy!" she gasped.

I reached her as she started to take a step forward.

"You can't go in there!" I said firmly. "Think about this, Jill!"

"But she's hurt!" she said, straining against me. She stopped suddenly and turned to face me again. "I sounded like that?" Her eyebrows rose an inch.

"Pretty close," I said. "You made it really clear that you were having a good time."

Her face got red, as if the room was too hot after the cold of December outside. "I sounded like THAT?"

I hugged her, thinking it was really too bad we still had winter coats on, because she could have felt my boner against her otherwise.

"You made me feel like a young man again," I said, kissing her nose.

She blinked.

"Oh my GOSH! They're ... they're ... they're ... OH MY GOSH!" She stiffened and wiggled.

"Isn't that what you intended?" I asked, grinning.

"Yes, but ... I didn't think they'd ... I mean I didn't think anything would REALLY happen!" she gasped.

"Well she's not yelling for help, so let's leave them alone," I said. "I believe you said you could cook?"

There was a short, sharp barking sound and a long whine. Jill's face got so red I thought she might have a stroke. A sudden wail, clearly of joy, reverberated in the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

"Oh damn," moaned Jill and got her hands free to clamp them over her ears. "I don't think I can take this!" She closed her eyes. "That's my MOTHER, Bob!"

I grinned. "Now you know how she felt when she knew what you and I were doing together."

Her eyes popped open, and her mouth went to form an o, but no sound came out. The wailing from down the hall died down slowly, and there was a short sobbing gasp as someone - a female - dragged in air after that long howling wail.

Her hands came away from her ears and her eyes steadied. She pushed herself loose and started taking off her jacket. She hung it over the back of a chair. She wrung her hands, but only a few times. Maybe she was warming them up. She stepped toward the refrigerator, reaching for it and then stopped with her hand on the handle, to turn and look over her shoulder at me.

"I did NOT sound like that last night!" she said sternly.

"Whatever you say, Darling," I said, smiling.

Zack was the first person to appear in the doorway of the kitchen. He was almost fully dressed, in jeans and a long sleeved checkered shirt, but had on only white socks on his feet.

"Something smells good," he said tentatively.

He was referring to the entire pound of bacon Jill had put in a skillet. It was unlikely that there were two molecules of air in the entire house that didn't have bacon odor clinging to them. She'd nuked potatoes in the microwave while the bacon cooked and was letting them cool so they wouldn't fall apart when she sliced them to fry after the bacon was done. Eggs sat on the counter waiting their turn and I was kneading biscuit dough while the oven pre-heated.

"We ... I mean I didn't know anybody was up."

Jill didn't turn around, but her shoulders stiffened as she giggled. Apparently she'd gotten over the shock of realizing her mother could have ... and pursue ... sexual desires, and was trying to adjust her world so that might fit into it.

"Pull up a chair," I said, knowing that Jill was going to be worthless for a while longer until she got control of herself. "We've only been here a few minutes."

Jill burst into a fit of giggles, almost laughing out loud.

"Be right back," said Zack, and he ducked back down the hall.

He was gone for a long time. He came back alone, looking exactly the same, except maybe he was a little embarrassed.

"Um ... I guess Lynne isn't up yet," he said. "I ... um ... tapped on her door ... but she didn't answer."

Jill turned around. I still can't describe the look that was on her face at that moment. There were elements of humor there, but there were some very negative things there as well. I saw a little disgust for sure, but couldn't tell why. She shoved the spatula in her hand at Zack.

"Don't let it burn," she snapped. Then she stalked down the hallway toward her mother's room.

"Jill!" Zack called out, but she ignored him.

"Let it go," I said. "When it comes to those two women, you just have to let them work things out."

"You're telling me," he sighed, and then looked embarrassed again. "How long have you really been here?" he asked.

"Way longer than will make Lynne happy," I said, grinning.

"Oh man," he sighed, looking down.

"She'll get over it," I said. "She's a strong woman."

"You got that right," he said. Then, with the brashness of youth, assuming everything really WILL work out, he approached the stove and started stirring the mess of bacon in the pan.

I don't actually know what went on between Jill and her mother that morning before breakfast. I do know that Jill actually went to her mother's room first and, not finding Lynne there, went to the bathroom and Jill's bedroom before she thought to look in the guest room, and the bathroom that serviced that room.

While Lynne was perfectly comfortable giving me the blow by blow (no pun intended) on what she and Zack did and talked about, the only thing she said about that morning was that Jill wouldn't let her hide in the bathroom.

And Jill wouldn't talk about it either, even in later years. Whatever they said to each other, it normalized things, because maybe half an hour later, just when the eggs were done, both women came into the kitchen like nothing was wrong and it was any other day. Zack, smart young man that he was, accepted that at face value and tried his best to act normal too. As for me? Well, I'd been through much worse. I think I actually FELT normal.

Breakfast was mundane in the extreme. The only thing Lynne actually addressed to Zack was about what remained to be seen around the farm, with a polite inquiry as to whether he was interested in seeing that. His response was also polite, not overstated, and affirmative. As it turned out, Jill wanted to go to town to do some Christmas shopping, so we weren't there that afternoon.

I don't think Lynne showed him anything. I checked. There were no footprints in the snow except for mine and Jill's. But both of them looked inordinately happy when we got home late that afternoon.