Chapter 8: Discourses

Wow. I closed my email program and looked down at my swollen, throbbing cock. I very much wanted to masturbate, but I felt even more committed to my imaginary solidarity with Denise and Lissa, as I put them through these tasks, even though they appeared so wrapped up in their own excitement and experiences it had been quite some time since either of them had shown any interest in my own erotic situation -- as Finn, not as Jason, obviously. I really suspected both they preferred it that way, as it kept things just impersonal enough that it made the whole idea of sexual tasks over the internet more, well, "do-able," to use a word Denise was fond of.

Finally, I set my insistent cock aside (metaphorically, anyway) and logged onto yahoo. I knew Denise had a laptop and a docking station in her bedroom, and I suspected she might be online. Sure enough, there she was.

"Lissa told me you might show up," she sent almost immediately.

"Waiting for me?"

"Yep. I was hoping I'd see you. How are you?"

"Very good. I hope you're doing well, too. I got Lissa's emails."

A bit of a pause, then, "I'm almost worried she's having too much fun."

"How do you mean?" I asked.

"She's giddy. I just worry it's not right the way she's teasing Jason. Both of us, teasing him, really."

"Your brother, you mean?"

"Yes."

"You think he minds?"

"Haha probably not. He's probably whacking off in his room right now, poor man."

"Well then everybody wins," I sent back, trying to reassure her, and loving the idea that she imagined I was here in my room masturbating, for some reason. "I hope you put some tissues in there for him," I joked.

"Oh dear ... I didn't think of that. Maybe I should go offer him some?"

"If you want," I said, my heart leaping in my throat for some reason.

"Nah ... he's a grown boy. He'll find something if needs it."

"Good plan," I commented, just to keep the conversation going. Thinking back to the clearly sincere concern she'd expressed, earlier, I added, "I wouldn't worry too much about Lissa. She seems like a very confident girl who knows her limits and desires. She'll draw the line where and when she needs to." I actually believed this, though I also realized it stank of a bit of rationalization even as I typed it and hit send.

"You're probably right. Maybe my real problem is that it disturbs me a bit that I find it so exciting."

I was puzzled by this comment -- wasn't sure what she was referencing. "What do you mean?"

"I mean ... I almost find Lissa's tasks and what she's doing more exciting than my own. Like ... like I wish I'd been half as daring and brave and naughty when I was that age."

"Ah, I see." I decided to make a guess, hoping it was true, and, even if not, to suggest it just for its sheer perversity. "You're re-living your own adolescence, with your brother Jason, vicariously, through the way your daughter's teasing him, now."

"Oh my god, exactly!" she replied after only a short delay. "I'm really so glad you understand, Finn."

"Well, just remember she's a separate person, and don't push her. But as long as she's having fun, I see nothing wrong with the fact that it turns you on to see her do it."

Long pause.

"Are you still there?" I finally asked.

"Yes..."

"Whatcha doing?"

"Wishing I could cum."

"LOL not yet, dear. Patience."

"Lissa told me about her bonus task, earlier," she said.

"Yes?"

"Could you give me a bonus task, right now?"

"What sort of task?"

Pause. "Don't make me say it."

"I'm not going to let you cum, Denise," I finally typed. "Not tonight."

"I know I know. But I want to do something kinky."

"I see." I thought for a while. Finally, "Find an excuse to bother your brother where he's sleeping. Is he in a guest room?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Tell him you can't sleep, or something, and you're doing some work and there's something in there you need."

"That'll work," she agreed. "The room he's in is my home office ... I can say there's some papers in the desk I need, or something."

"Good. Here's the catch ... you do it naked."

"No way..."

I let her worry for a minute. "Well, but you can wear a robe."

"That's not bad, then," she replied, relieved, I suspect.

"So, nothing but a robe."

"That's all? Easy..." I sensed she was almost disappointed.

"There's another catch."

"Oh ok," expectantly.

"You have to have that new dildo of yours clamped inside of you. The whole time."

"Oh ... wow." A bit of a silence.

"And you have to chat with him. Sit down on his bed ... at least 10 minutes."

Finally, she sent back, "Crap. Ok. I'll do it. I asked for it LOL"

"Good girl," I sent. "Have fun." But she'd already signed out. Eager, indeed.

I quickly hibernated my laptop and slipped it under my bed. Then I debated whether I should pretend she was waking me up, but decided I didn't fake being woken up very well, and then, with some inspiration, thinking about the earlier exchange, I realized the perfect thing -- she was going to be interrupting me as I masturbated. How obvious. I wasn't going to let her catch me ... but I was going to have the right flush to my cheeks, so to speak. Easily enough done.

With that, still naked under my covers, I began to vigorously stroke myself. I was so far gone, that long before her knock came on my door, I'd had to stop and take a break for danger of filling her guest bed with my cum. When the knock finally came, I was genuinely startled, despite my anticipation of it. I counted to five and rumpled the covers over me, raising one knee to conceal the turgid, throbbing lump I was wearing, and said, "yes?"

Denise poked her head in the door, and said, of all things, "are you decent?"

I couldn't resist, and, in my best innuendo, said, "never decent, but at least I'm under the covers."

She actually giggled, and crept in. "Sorry to bother you, Jase ... I couldn't sleep, and was doing some work. I left some account folders in here, and I saw your light was on under the door."

"Go ahead, Denise," I said, grinning up at her.

She walked over to the desk, and leaning, pulled down one of the binders on the shelves that made up the upper part of the unit. She opened it up and studied it intently for a few seconds, flipping through some pages. She was convincing, if she was pretending. Of course, she probably did have account folders in here, and she probably had one in mind, so she was genuinely looking for it, as she put the one binder down and pulled down the next and flipped through it. "Here it is," she finally sighed.

Meanwhile, she was in profile at the foot of my bed. I studied it ... looking for the telltale lump at her groin that would reveal she was complying with the task I'd given her. Though at this point, I harbored zero doubts that both she and Lissa were playing "for real." Again, I felt a twinge of guilt as I acknowledged to myself that I was the only one being deceptive, here. What to do?

Denise snapped shut the binder she'd found, scooped it and the other she'd looked at into her arms, and moved to leave the room. I realized that the best evidence that she was complying with task lay in her gait, as she walked. A bit of a waddle -- I laughed inwardly -- almost like a pregnant woman's walk. Cute.

As she reached to door of the room, she turned back to me, allowing her facial expression to evolve to a reflective seriousness. "Hey, Jase ... can I ask you a question?"

"Uh sure, Denise. Shoot."

She moved back to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, near the foot, and turned so she was looking toward me, now looking much more serious. I almost thought, given how serious she was looking, that she was going to bust me and this whole amazing game. My heart leaped with nervousness.

"I'm worried about Lissa," she finally said. Whew. But this did seem kind of serious.

"What is it?" I asked, all seriousness myself, now. Enough seriousness that my throbbing tool had calmed and wilted somewhat, under the covers.

She was quiet a moment, biting her lower lip. "Well, she's doing really great. And ... especially the last couple months, she and I have gotten really close. Much closer than me and mom were. And ... I'm grateful for that."

I let her sit silently for a moment, knowing she wasn't done.

"But I know she misses David. Her dad. A lot. She's a trooper, and doesn't talk about it. But I know she does. Well, and I've noticed just in the short time you've been here, she really seems to look up to you a lot. You're obviously a bit of a father figure for her."