Chapter 18

Mother Nature hovered over the bed, upon which lay the girl and the man she expected to perform the dance of life soon. Momentarily, she split her attention between these two, and the girl’s mother, who lay in her own bed, trying to decide her future. Mother Nature smiled. Part of that future, at least, was already decided. That woman was already a success. The fertilized egg in her womb had just finished implantation. Cells were dividing at the proper rate, and in nine short months a new dancer would be born. She turned her attention back to the couple in the bed. The girl had the woman’s genes. The woman’s genes had made her remarkably fertile. Maybe the girl was remarkably fertile too.

It was the first time they had been completely free to experience each other without fear of being caught, and with the sanction of the other member of their unusual triangle. They had both been thrilled with this concept ... the concept that they could now explore this wonderful relationship without guilt. Each had preconceived notions about what would happen ... how things would work ... what the end result would be. Humans had created a term for this relationship: m&eacutenage á trois. These people, however, would have looked askance if someone would have told them that’s what they were doing. To them it was simply an attraction they could not resist, and so had decided to try to make work.

But freedom from guilt and fear changes everything.

Nothing was hurried. Every nuance of each other’s body was explored. They even talked to each other softly about what felt good, and what drove them almost crazy. Bobby spent ten minutes on each breast, touching, stroking, kissing, pulling the nipple into his mouth and lovingly suckling it until she squirmed. She wanted to touch his scars and kiss them, but she ended up making him roll over so she could take his erect organ into her mouth. He told her what would make him spurt, and she lovingly swallowed the result.

They lay and she asked him questions about his childhood, comparing notes, sharing little tidbits about herself, until her questing hand found that he was hard again.

Nature smiled as Jennifer lifted one leg, grasping his erection and bringing the tip to her sexual portal.

“Some day this is going to go inside me,” she breathed, swabbing the tip between oily lips, and teasing her clit.

“Someday,” he agreed.

They kissed.

She abandoned his phallus to roll on top of him where she could rub her body against his while they extended the kiss, swapping tongues and saliva and passion as she used her body like sandpaper on a piece of wood.

Except that she didn’t scrape him smooth. Instead, their sweat mingled to make a lubrication of sorts, that let her slide effortlessly across his body. It felt delicious, and she finally lifted her lips from his just so she could slide farther. She loved the feel of her breasts slipping across his chest. Her hands provided the only propulsion, since her entire body was lying on top of his. She tried to feel every square inch of contact, from her toes, searching to find purchase to help her, to her muscled thighs, sliding across his equally hard ones. The only thing that felt out of place was his rigid penis, which made a lump that her body pushed this way and that. It was in the way, somehow, and she was suddenly aware that, if it was inside her, it wouldn’t be in the way any more.

That concept held no fear for her any more, and that was amazing. But at the same time, she knew that if she did that ... if she had him put it where it belonged ... it would anchor her to one place, instead of letting her have the freedom she was currently enjoying.

So instead of taking that step, she put her hands on his shoulders and pushed, sitting up, flexing her thighs until she rose enough to look down and see the long tube of hot flesh that was, to her mind, causing all these problems. Her teenaged mind decided to tame this thing by sitting on it, and by accident, as she settled on it to trap it, her slippery vulva split, sliding on either side of it, bringing her clitty into direct contact with his hot flesh.

The possibilities were immediately evident to her.

She gave a tentative, experimental slide forward, and exulted in the electric, scraping sensation of her clit sliding along his bone. It felt so good she shuddered with the joy of it.

As for Bobby, he was in a whole different world of amazement. He couldn’t understand how there could be so much difference between being naked with one woman, and exchanging touches, and the texture of the experience when he was with a different woman. There were similarities, to be sure. Jennifer’s skin was just as soft and hot as her mother’s. But Mindy communicated more with her lips, the passion that surged through her, while Jennifer somehow used her entire body to say the same thing. Mindy took him inside her, which meant she surrounded him with hot, clasping flesh, and directing all his concentration to that small area of his body. Jennifer touched him everywhere else, and the experience was overwhelming in a completely different way. It was like the difference between tumbled by the surf at the beach, and being able to take clean, strong strokes in a swimming pool filled with clear, blue water.

Of course he didn’t think it out in terms like that. Imagine being instantaneously transported into space, where you were suddenly surrounded by bright pinpoints of light all around you. You are warm and safe, but the experience is so awe inspiring that you have no thought at all as to how this happened. All you can give attention to is the experience itself.

Both young people were on the razor’s edge within minutes. It was exactly the same situation that, hundreds of millions of times in the past, had led to fulfilling nature’s demand that breeding take place.

And it very well might have this time too, absent the vagaries of youth, and movement, and excitement at levels that robbed Bobby of the capacity to wait until his penis was buried deep inside her before he expelled his seed.

Instead, as she slid her pussy along his rampant manhood, and leaned down to rub her lips across his, she felt the orgasm that had snuck stealthily upon her raise its head and squeak “Surprise!” The joy of that loosened the words that had simmered in her brain for weeks, and those words boiled over.

“I love you!” she whispered into his mouth as her lips claimed his.

His thoughts were muddled, but the words “I love you, too!” bounced off the insides of his skull as his balls bunched and his semen flowed. He didn’t say them, though. It was as if his voice was paralyzed by the ecstasy of his orgasm.

It made a mess. But they had already been sweaty and slippery, and the addition of more lubricant, at body temperature, was no barrier to either her continued lurching, or the completion of his orgasm. At one point her pussy slid too far forward, and the tip of his cock notched in her opening, allowing one strong shot of his release to surge into her vaginal canal, but the coefficient of friction between their bodies was low enough that her motion broke that tenuous attempt at a bond, and her lips slid backwards, carrying most of that shot of semen right back toward his balls, where it originated.

His emission was similar to a leak in a boiler, that allowed steam to escape, and slowly brought movement to a powerless halt. Both were winded by the experience, and as her body settled on top of his, her arms and legs loose and her cheek lying on his shoulder, he only had strength enough to run one of his hands up and down the middle of her back. Finally, he could express what had been ringing like a bell in his brain.

“I love you too,” he sighed.

Mother Nature gazed happily at the young couple on the bed. They were coming along nicely. True, he had not actually inserted his penis inside her while it spat it’s luscious gift. But several millions of his sperm cells had, indeed, gotten inside her. And those cells knew what to do. She watched as they swam towards the egg she saw inside the girl. She smiled as several hundred reached their goal. She watched, dispassionately as they attacked the fibrous covering of the egg, seeking a way inside.

Jennifer’s DNA was very much like her mother’s, and her fertility was equally as healthy. One sperm cell wiggled its tail and, with a last metaphorical gasp of success, penetrated the egg.

Mother Nature’s smile was both bright and expectant. Her plan was working perfectly.

In the world of fiction, everything can be warm and happy. But in the real world, semen cools, and becomes sticky. Hair is hot and sweat itches as it dries. Weight on top of one’s body that at one time was welcome, becomes oppressive. These little discomforts can rob a tryst of its glamour if allowed to. But the glass was half full for these two, and rather than be unhappy that they were uncomfortable, they simply got up, cleaned up, dried off, and then went back to bed, where the feel of each other’s warm, naked body was again welcome, and sleep was not at all difficult to find.

In the morning, when Jennifer awoke, it was to a face that was complaining. She wasn’t aware that all that amorous activity of the night before had raised her blood pressure, which hadn’t been exactly soothing to her facial injuries. The remaining effects of a pain pill had masked that then, but the drug was gone now.

It was a bit like a hangover, in one sense, except she could remember how much fun she had had the night before.

She lifted her head to find Bobby’s eyes open, and gazing back into hers.

“Are you okay?” he asked, somehow knowing she was in pain.

“Yes,” she answered, in a voice that was also remarkably similar to one a traditional hangover might have produced. “I need a pain pill, that’s all.”

“I’ll get you one,” he said, fairly leaping out of bed.

She was mildly astonished, as he leapt out of bed and it stopped moving, at how empty that bed suddenly felt to her. She extended her arms and legs, stretching. She enjoyed that freedom, but there was no question in her mind which she would choose if she had to make that choice. Bed full or empty? She wanted it full. Full of Bobby Higginbotham.

She grinned as her mind went a bit further: Full of the Hermit of Scarecrow Valley.

Her head rolled for no apparent reason, and her eyes saw the fuzzy blot of something on her nightstand, something she didn’t recognize. She rolled over and reached for it. Her fingers found the little foil packet her mother had given her, and she picked it up to bring close to her eyes as she rolled back onto her back.

She had been sick on the day of the annual assembly on health and human sexuality. Rather than include that instruction in a particular class, the Board of Education had decided that the kids would pay more attention if they could stroll from booth to booth to get the information everyone hoped would result in no teen pregnancies, and no outbreak of STDs in Keystone. It was actually an innovative idea. The hospital provided a film of a woman giving birth. A gynecologist was on hand nearby to answer questions. The county health service provided someone to talk about services available to teens with or without parental knowledge. Teachers and the school counselor created displays of their own, usually with materials supplied by one government agency or another, and which covered the issue of disease and protection.

So she had missed the demonstration of applying a condom to a banana. It was always popular, because no man had volunteered to do that demonstration since the inception of the program. And that meant a woman had to do it. And that meant that all the boys studiously watched the instructor, while all the girls studiously watched the boys.

Curiously, she tore the packet open and extracted the disk of latex. Having no experience with a condom at all, she was baffled by how that little disk could have anything to do with the thing she had stroked, sucked and rubbed her pussy along.

When Bobby got back with her pill and a glass of water, she had managed to unroll it, and was holding it over her face, examining it.

“What are you doing?” asked Bobby.

“Looking at this thing,” she said. “It’s weird.”

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The Hermit of Scarecrow Valley

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