Prick Van Winkle

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1-2 | 3-4 | 5-6 | 7-8 | 9-10 | 11-12 | 13-14 | 15-16 | 17-18
19-20 | 21-22 | 23-24 | 25-26 | 27-28 | 29-30 | 31-32 | 33-Epilogue

Chapter 23

They did eventually eat, still naked, sitting in the cool mountain breeze. And, before they left the glen they made love a third time, finally able to take the time to pay attention to each other's special likes and turn-ons. It was actually Becca who called out that it was time to be heading back. They'd been gone hours and she was afraid that Fran or Val would come looking for them and find them at the wrong time. She and Denny hadn't talked of long term relationships on their side of the tree. She had been insatiable, wanting him in her all the time and taking him in her mouth when he wasn't hard for her. It was too perfect for them both, sharing a closeness that neither of them felt could be any more real. Denny, in his own mind, was already thinking of how soon he could suggest that they "wander by a jewelry store ... you know ... just for fun."

Both women walked a little gingerly on the way back, sore from too much of a good thing, but the kinks were pretty well worked out and they could force themselves to try to walk more normally after a quarter mile. Polly lengthened her steps to come up even with Becca, who was following Denny.

"Your mother is going to skin me alive if your belly swells." she said, not trying to keep the men from hearing her.

"How old was Aunt Betty when she had you?" asked Becca slyly. She already knew the answer. Fran had pointed it out several times.

Polly looked sideways at her niece. "Fifteen, but apparently you already know that."

"Yes, I do," said Becca.

"But you're going to college in a month or so. You have your whole life ahead of you." objected Polly.

"And how old were you when you had Fran?" asked Becca, ignoring the argument.

"Twenty-two ... and ready to graduate from college, I might add," said Polly smugly.

"And when did you meet Roger and fall in love with him?" asked Becca, undeterred.

"I was a sophomore ... nineteen," said Polly. "What does that have to do with anything? Are you telling me you think you're in love with this man?" She pointed at Denny, who kept walking and did not turn around, even though it was obvious he had heard her.

"And why did it take you three years to have Frannie?" asked Becca. "Was it because you were on the pill?"

"No," said Polly doubtfully. "Roger and I didn't ... I didn't know then that he was ... we just didn't do that while we were going out. In fact the night I let him for the first time was the night I proposed to him. I wasn't planning on that. It just ... happened. In fact it happened a lot like today." she said, looking over her shoulder at Brian. He had fallen back a ways, as if he were giving them some privacy.

"But you didn't get pregnant right away," said Becca.

"No, Roger said we shouldn't ... he didn't want to..." She went quiet as, for the first time she processed his behavior during their engagement with new eyes. He had expressed his desire that they not do anything stupid. He had not encouraged her to go on the pill, and had not suggested that he use rubbers. He had suggested that they not make love until they were actually married. He couched it in terms of something so special that he wanted to save it for special occasions. She had thought he was romantic, and only rarely did she get so horny for him that she demanded he make love to her. It was one of those times that she got pregnant. She wondered now if he had ever felt any sexual passion for her at all. It was just as likely that he was passing as a straight man by being engaged. They liked each other and liked spending time together. Lovemaking just wasn't the center of their relationship.

She looked over her shoulder again at Brian. Even though she was sore she wanted to be with him again, already. And she knew that if she stopped and put the blanket down, he'd take her again, right there on the trail. She knew she liked him as a person, even though she didn't know that much about him, and she was sure they would have fun doing things other than making love together, even if she didn't know what those things were. In a sense, it didn't matter what they were. She just knew it would be fun doing almost anything with him. His humor made any situation fun. His seriousness made him seem dependable. Her relationship with him, after two dates, was disturbingly richer than anything she had ever had with Roger.

She looked back at Becca, who was walking along silently.

"So doesn't he have anything to say about this?" she asked, nodding at Denny.

"Hey, Corporal!" said Becca loudly. "What are you gonna do if you knock me up?"

He stopped and turned. His face was quite serious.

"Will you marry me?" he asked.

"What?" Becca stopped so quickly she stumbled.

"I asked you if you would marry me. Right now. Today." he said.

"I can't do that," said Becca, horrified. "Denny I hardly know you. You can't ask a girl a question like that without at least talking about it first! That's silly!" She looked confused.

"You asked me a pretty silly question." he said, his voice level.

"I was joking." she said, her voice going higher. "You haven't knocked me up."

"How do you know that?" he asked, still serious.

"Because it's the wrong time of the month for anybody to knock me up," said Becca.

"Famous last words," said Polly.

"You're serious!" said Becca to Denny, not sounding too happy.

"If you're serious enough to let me do what we just did, unprotected - I should have asked you first and didn't ... that's my fault - but if you're serious enough to let me do that with you, then I have to be serious about what will happen to you, and my role in that."

"I was just having fun." objected Becca.

"I take that very seriously," said Denny. "I could be a father right now because you didn't think seriously about the consequences of what we just did. I can't believe you would do that Becca."

Becca stopped. He was angry and she was hurt. Her eyes filled with tears.

"But..." She was at a loss for words. "Please don't be mad at me." she finally finished.

Denny walked up to her. He seemed to tower over her. "If I've made you pregnant I'm going to want to marry you. That will be our child, and I'll not want to be left out of it. If you don't think you could be happy that way, then we shouldn't see each other again."

"Hey, Denny, cool down buddy," said Brian, stepping forward.

"How can I cool down?" he asked. "You know how I feel about children. I want to make children with the woman I love and who loves me ... who will stand beside me and stay with me as those children grow up. I want to choose the woman who bears my sons and I want her to choose me."

"Did you tell her that Denny?" asked Brian patiently.

"No," said Denny. His face screwed up and then it looked like he might cry. "I think things got out of control, somehow."

Becca's mind was whirling. She knew she liked Denny. She knew she liked being around him, and the way his mind worked. He was exciting and interesting ... a man. She thought about him leaving and never calling her again and something twisted up inside her. Like Brian, she had never really been in love with anyone ... didn't know what it felt like. But now, the idea that he might go away mad made her want to die. The only thing she could think of to do was what she did when her cousins were mad at her.

"Can we talk about this?" she asked.

Denny looked down at her. She couldn't decipher what was in his eyes.

"Please?" she asked. "I don't want you to be mad at me. I understand what you said, and I'm not pregnant, but that's not the point. I don't want to be without you. Please don't just go off and leave me and never come back. I'm sorry."

"Was it just ... fun ... for you today Becca?" he asked.

"I've never done this with anyone before." she said, meaning a romantic walk in the woods that turned into a sex fest of astonishing dimensions.

"You were a virgin?" asked Denny incredulously. She was too accomplished a lover to have never had a man before.

"No, that's not what I meant." she said. She was frustrated now. "Only one other man has ever touched me. He was more of my teacher than anything else. And I love him, but not in the way you're talking about. All I know is that I never wanted to do what we did today with any other man ... not like it was today. Does that make any sense?"

"I don't understand," said Denny mournfully.

"Have you ever been in love with a girl?" asked Becca.

He nodded.

"And why aren't you with her now?"

"It didn't work out." he said. "But what does that..."

"Does that mean your love wasn't real?" she asked.

"No." he said shortly.

"I don't know if I love you." she said. "I'm not sure what love is, except that I felt it for that one man. He's not available to me and never will be, but I love him just the same. I feel something different for you, just as strong ... but different. The point is that I don't just go out and do this with anybody. You're special somehow. I don't know if that means I love you or not, but I do know this. If you leave here and don't ever see me again I'll just curl up and die Denny. I can't imagine dating other men, or letting them do to me what you did today."

"You're in love sweetness," said Polly reaching out to touch her. "You have all the signs." Part of her mind was whirling, trying to figure out who Becca's "teacher" was. Her niece's situation was more important though, and she shoved those thoughts aside.

"But how can I be?" moaned Becca. "I hardly know him!"

Polly turned to Brian. "Does this conversation sound familiar?"

He grinned. "Yup, you're in love Becca. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I mean Denny's surely no catch, but I think you have it bad for him."

His attempt at humor didn't go over very well. Becca shot him a murderous look and then she looked surprised and then she looked shocked. She turned to Denny.

"What if they're right?" she asked, panic in her voice. "What if I really do love you?"

Denny rolled his eyes. If this was what dating a younger woman was like he wasn't sure it was a good idea any more.

"You're asking me?" he grumped. "I don't even know how to feel about it if you're pregnant."

"I'm not pregnant!" shouted Becca. "Won't anybody listen to me?"

"You sure better not be," said Polly under her breath.

"And what about you?" Becca turned on her aunt. "You were doing the same thing. Are you on the pill Aunt Polly? Is Val? Is anybody?"

Before Polly could even answer she turned on Brian. "Are you going to marry her if you knocked her up?!"

It was a rhetorical question, but Brian thought things had gone way too far already.

"Yes." he said firmly.

Becca had taken another breath to say ... she didn't know what she was going to say ... but she was going to say ... something ... and his answer took her breath away. He looked dead serious.

"Really?" she squeaked.

"Yup," said Brian. Polly was looking at him as if she didn't believe what she was hearing either. "We're gonna have a whole baseball team." he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say.

"That's not what I said," said Polly. "As I recall, I told you I didn't think I had a whole ball team left in me."

Brian waved. "I have faith in you." he said airily.

Polly put her hands on her hips. "If you think I'm going to be barefoot and pregnant for the next nine years you got another think coming, buster!" she said hotly.

"Okay, okay, just two or three then," said Brian, giving up way too easily. "Can we start now?" He reached for his zipper.

Polly blushed at being teased so blatantly. "I thought you were being serious with me back there."

"I was." he said, pulling her to him. He gave her a serious kiss.

When he pulled his lips from hers, Polly pushed him away. "I thought you said you didn't know." she accused him. "Where did all this come from?"

"Watching her," said Brian, nodding toward Becca. "She's like a young colt, frisky and not caring about anything, just loving life and everything in it. You're more like a thoroughbred race horse, full of passion, with a love to run the race. It just occurred to me that you make me feel like a stallion. I like that feeling. So, if I have to knock you up to get to see more of you, I'm game."

"You do not have to knock me up to see more of me," said Polly, disgusted.

"Well, it was getting too serious around here. We're a fun bunch, us four. And if it stops being fun then ... well, it won't be any fun. So everybody lighten up. Becca's not pregnant, and Polly's not pregnant, and we'll be more careful in the future and everybody will be all happy."

He was the only one who was completely upbeat about it, but he did lighten the mood. As they walked the rest of the way Becca took Denny's hand, and he squeezed hers.

"I'm really sorry." she said.

"Never mind." he said. "We'll have a nice long talk about it next time we go out. For now, just try to act normal. Your mother is like a polygraph. She'll be asking all kinds of questions and I don't want either of us cracking under the stress."

"So you don't hate me?" asked Becca in a little girl voice.

"I don't do that with women I hate." he growled. Then he leaned over, put his shoulder in her stomach and lifted her like she was weightless. As she squealed and giggled and fought he carried her back to the cabin.

Behind them Polly gave Brian a searching look.

"You better watch what you say there, little boy." she smiled a grim smile. "What would you do if I accepted your erstwhile proposal?"

"Hmmmm." he said, gripping his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Knowing women, and knowing your situation, I'd have to say I'd do my best to get you showing nice and public like before you could get loose from Roger and get a wedding planned. I've always had a yen to watch my pregnant fiancé walk down the aisle toward me." He grinned.

"That could be why you haven't had any fiancés," said Polly. But she smiled.

Other than remarking on the fact that they'd been gone for a long time, no one seemed to notice anything odd about the two couples. Even if they would have, it probably wouldn't have been discussed. Fran was bubbling over with the news when Becca was carried into the cabin.

"Guess what!?" She waited a split second and went on. "Aunt Gidget is going on a date with Grandpa!"

Of course Polly and Becca hadn't been there, or heard what had happened. All Becca could think about was how grandpa had told her about how only the girls' mothers hadn't done anything with him ... yet. Her recent induction into the joys ... and perils ... of being a fully sexual woman hadn't yet settled into something she could fully wrap her mind around. And now ... her mother was going to go on a date with the man who had taken her own virginity!? Her joy at Denny's apparent willingness to forgive her selfishness ... her casual attitude about something that meant so much to him ... was suddenly assailed by a mental image of her mother's kicking legs, and Bob's bouncing buttocks between them. At the same time, she was aware on a completely different level that her Aunt Polly had, just that afternoon, found something joyous and exciting, something she deserved ... that every woman deserved to have in her life.

In short, she had no idea how to feel about that statement. She sat down suddenly, unable to keep her knees stiff enough to stand on them.

If Polly would have had a chance to reflect on her own life and actions this past couple of weeks, she would probably have raised an eyebrow and said "Good move sis. You need to get out and do things." But her recent exploits hadn't had time to sink in, either, and her reaction was typical for the woman she had been these past few years instead.

"That's insane!" she barked. "Why on earth would she do that? Why on earth would Grandpa do that?"

It was about then that Becca more or less collapsed into her seat and everything got kind of crazy.

It got sorted out eventually, and when it was explained that neither Bob nor Gidget had any recent experience with dating, and that both deserved to update their social lives, and that both could do a sort of trial run to see where the perils and problems lay in pursuing that path, it didn't seem quite so outlandish any more.

"What about Sunny?" asked Polly when everything had calmed down.

Sunny put her hands up in the air, palms out. "Leave me out of this. I'm perfectly happy with no men in my life."

"So is Gidget," said Polly. "So was I until I met Brian. Now I know what I've been missing, and I'm telling you, I'm not going to keep missing it."

There were ooos and ahhhs and all kinds of innuendo as cousins needled her, asking just what had happened on that little hike they took.

"What could happen?" she said, her face straight. "Becca was right there with me."

"Yeah." sighed Denny. "This double dating business can sure cramp a guy's style." He grinned.

"I'm just saying we need to find somebody for Sunny to be friends with too," said Polly.

Sunny snorted. "Tell you what. When Gidget gets done with Grandpa, then I'll take lessons with him too. Okay? Now will everybody leave me alone?" She had no intention of going on a date with her own grandfather, no matter how young and handsome he was. She liked him, but he was still a stranger to her in many ways.

She was a little like Becca in the sense that she sometimes thought of something she wanted and just went after it, not worrying about side effects. She also wasn't above making promises she didn't intend to keep.

But she had no idea where that blithe promise would take her as the future unfolded.

Val was bored. She didn't mind going up to the cabin to work, but listening to the wrangling of the women was tiring. She wanted to tell them all to just go find a man like Zack. She couldn't help but look at her grandmother and great aunts differently now that she knew they'd had sex with Bob. That she had practically had sex with him too didn't change her outlook. They were older women, and she just couldn't imagine them in the throes of passion. Her mother now, that was different. Her mother was full of passion and emotion. She used it in her job and thrived on it. If there had been a man in her life he would have walked around slumped over all the time from being bedded half to death. Val was sure of that because she was a lot like her mother and she thought about seeing Zack again ... and fucking Zack again ... ten or twelve times a day.

She noted her mother's blatant attempt to get attention away from her by making that silly promise that she'd go on dates with grandpa too. Like that would ever happen. Then again, she'd seen Bob in action, and he might just be able to give her mother what would calm her down a whole lot.

But now she was tired of listening to chatter. She wandered over to the knapsack Denny had dumped on the floor. It had blankets in it borrowed from that nice Sally woman. They should be washed before they were returned. Bob had had a washer and dryer delivered, and they had hooked them up while the hikers were off gallivanting around. The blankets would be a good trial run to see if everything was working well. No one paid any attention as she picked up the pack and carried it to the little utility room off of the kitchen. She opened the lid of the washer and shook out the first blanket so she could pack it in around the agitator. Her nose caught a musky odor that was tantalizingly familiar. She was stuffing the blanket into the washer when she realized what that smell was.

She pulled the blanket out and spread it out again. There, almost in the middle! It was darker there, like it was damp. She felt the spot. It was damp. It had been folded up wet and hadn't dried. She pulled it up and sniffed at the spot.

Semen.

It was unmistakable. It was an odor she had known from her play with grandpa for years, and she had found that Zack's smelled very similar.

Who had been on this blanket? Becca? That was likely. Val knew how hot to trot Becca was. But where had Aunt Polly been while Becca was getting her pussy stuffed? On impulse she shook out the other blanket. There was a wet spot in the middle of that one too!

Both of them? Aunt Polly too? Now there was something to think about. She thought back to the hospital, when Brian had searched Polly. Polly had been obviously affected by the search. She had even said some raunchy things. But doing it on a blanket, obviously in the open? And right next to each other!?

She went into the kitchen and called out into the living room for Polly to come help her. Polly had been holding Brian's hand and she dropped it to come toward Val, a smile on her face.

"What's up?" she asked.

"I need to know what something is," said Val, leading Polly into the utility room. She picked up one of the blankets and put her hand under it, her fingers pushing the wet spot into prominence. "What do you suppose made that wet spot right there?" she asked, keeping her face straight.

Polly peered at it and jumped. She blanched.

"I don't know dear. That was the blanket Denny and Becca sat on to eat lunch."

Val had a pretty good idea what they ate, but she played it straight. She picked up the other blanket. "You used this one?" she asked innocently.

Polly nodded, worriedly.

"That's funny, because it has a wet spot just like the other one ... in almost the same place." She tented that spot out too. "See there? It's kind of slick and sticky and it smells like..."

She stopped talking as Polly snatched the blanket out of her hands and stuffed it into the washer. Then she picked up the other blanket and did the same thing. Val started giggling and Polly shot her a look.

"Where's the soap?" asked Polly.

"Wasn't that soap that was staining the blankets?" asked Val, snickering. "It looked kind of white and soapy to me."

Polly closed the lid and turned on the water. She looked at Val.

"What do you want Valerie?" she asked.

Val reached out to hold both her aunt's hands. "Nothing. Except to tell you how happy I am for you. You should have done this a long time ago."

Polly relaxed. It felt good that somebody besides Becca knew too.

"I don't think I'd have found the right guy a long time ago. I'd never have gone for a man ten years younger than me."

Val's brow creased a little. "Maybe. Anyway, things turned out pretty well according to the blanket." She grinned. "Now if we can just get Aunt Gidget and my mother hooked up with some men to ease their fussiness, this whole family might be a pretty fun bunch of folks to hang out with."

Becca, not wanting to have a confrontation with her mother, simply started seeing Denny alone secretly. She drove to his little three room bungalow, but they didn't stay there.

Their first date alone was tense in the beginning. There was no necking or petting on this date and, oddly enough, that was fine with both of them. They had something to eat and sat in the car on a bluff overlooking a scenic view and just talked. Becca talked about her life, growing up in a strange family, though she left out the sexual parts. Denny talked about his own upbringing in a family where his single mother had too many children and neglected them. It had been rough. One of his brothers was in prison and one of his sisters had been a hooker until he'd arrested her himself, finding her on the street. She hadn't believed he'd do it, but he did. He got her into a program and she was doing much better these days. Two of his siblings were still living at home, jobless, with no prospects. That was part of why he was so intensive about children and there being a loving set of parents to raise them.

Becca, had never wanted for anything, and her family gave her so much love and encouragement that she had never really missed having a father. She had Bob to talk to and even though he never talked back - at least not until recently - that filled what little need she had for a male in her younger life.

As they talked, and she had a serious conversation with an adult male for the first time in her life, she began to realize how she might have missed more than she thought. And she understood that she had treated sex like a new toy, being obsessed with it in a way, but not respecting all the different aspects of such a relationship.

When they got back and she stood by her car, getting ready to go home, Denny finally gave her a kiss. Becca was shocked to find that that kiss was sweet and caring and, for once, didn't make her pussy ache, or her nipples tingle. It was just a really nice kiss from a really nice man who she began to suspect she was falling in love with.

They had two more dates of a very similar nature, spending time together and growing even closer before disaster struck.

Becca paced in the bathroom. She checked her watch again. She'd looked at it five times already. Usually the second hand hadn't made it around the face since the last time she'd looked. She'd waited a week, hoping that she was just late, even though she'd been as regular as clockwork since she was twelve. This couldn't be happening to her. Not now. Not since she found the man she thought she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Everything he'd said about the rashness of having unprotected sex and her flippant denial that she could be pregnant, battered the defenses in her mind as she waited for the test to be done. They'd even abstained from sex for the last couple of dates! This couldn't be happening.

The next time she checked her watch it was time. Now, though, she couldn't bear to look and see what she had been so impatient to have available. She closed her eyes. Finally she couldn't stand it any longer. She opened them and looked at the little strip of material that would define her happiness for the foreseeable future.

It was positive.

Becca called a meeting of the cousins. She had to because she was going crazy trying to figure out what to do by herself. She couldn't talk to her mother, and none of her aunts would be sympathetic either, with the possible exception of Aunt Polly. Even then she had joked and talked about getting pregnant, and Polly would think she had done it on purpose, which was not the case. Becca had always been pro choice on the few occasions she had thought about such things. It was easy to talk about a woman's choice when you weren't the woman involved.

There had been enough turbulence in the family in the last few months that her frantic summons didn't make either Fran or Val particularly nervous. Becca was an emotional girl in the first place, and often got more excited about something than anyone else did. So the two girls were less than prepared when they arrived and before they could even get in the house Becca came storming out.

"I'm pregnant." she hissed in a whisper that was close to a shout.

Both girls stared at their cousin.

"What do I do?" Becca asked urgently. "I don't know what to do!"

They went for a drive. This was not something they could discuss under circumstances that an adult might show up and want to join whatever discussion they were having.

The first thing Val thought about was how relieved she had been when her own period had come along a few days back. Then she felt guilty that she was thinking of herself instead of Becca.

"It's Denny's ... right?" she said, not thinking how that could be interpreted.

"I don't know!" cried Becca. "It could be grandpa's!"

Fran felt a shock course through her as she remembered the warm wet feeling of Bob's spunk inundating her pussy at the cabin. She wasn't due to bleed for another week. She hadn't thought a thing about it until now. Her mind went a little numb at the implications.

"Oh boy." signed Val. Then, the inevitable question, born of female desperation: "Are you sure?"

A man might think "Sure it could be Bob's?" Such a man should find a woman to talk to. She'll explain all about how that question, at that time, means "Are you sure you're pregnant?"

Becca, being a woman, understood perfectly.

"The test was positive. My period's a week late ... eight days now."

"Oh boy." sighed Val again.

"What should I do?" asked Becca miserably. "Denny will hate me."

Val can't be blamed, if that's the right word, for seeing this from the perspective of what she'd do if she were pregnant. In her case, there would be no doubt as to the paternity of the baby. She had grappled with the possibility not all that far in the past, and her sense of relief when her period started had been palpable. Her mother had even noticed her upbeat mood after she had to slide that first tampon in.

"What are you so bubbly about?" Sunny had asked.

"Oh ... nothing. I just love life I guess." Val had responded.

Now she could think about what it might have been like if she hadn't had to use that tampon. Women are a little strange sometimes, from a man's perspective. While Val had been worried about being pregnant a week or two ago, now that she wasn't, and one of her best friends was ... she had pangs of something that came perilously close to jealousy. As she thought about it now ... it was almost sad that Zack hadn't put life in her womb.

Fran can't be blamed, again, if that's the right word, for being a teenager who had never seriously contemplated the prospect that she might get pregnant. Girls her age think they're immune to a man's seed just like boys that age think nothing can really hurt them. Her inability to grapple with the serious aspects of the situation caused her mind to go off on a tangent.

"Hey!" she said suddenly. "If it's grandpa's, you would be having a great great grandbaby!" She frowned and her eyes went glazed. "Or your own cousin four times removed?"

"It's not funny." moaned Becca.

"No, that wouldn't work," said Fran, trying to unravel the tangle of relationships such a child would have. If it was a boy it would be a son and great great grandson to the same man, and a son for Becca, but a cousin however many times removed from the other girls. She gave up as Becca started crying.

"Hey, I'm sorry," said Fran automatically.

Her cousins then dragged poor Fran further into the world of adult women and the decisions and challenges they have to deal with. They didn't exactly drag her in that direction kicking and screaming either. She couldn't get the feel of her great grandfather's sperm soaking her womb out of her mind.

The interesting thing was that, in the next two and a half hours, during which Fran admitted she might be in the same situation and wouldn't know for another week, while emotions raged and tears fell from all of their eyes at one time or another, the "solution" of seeking an abortion was only brought up once.

"Denny would never forgive me," said Becca shortly. "Neither would grandpa." She put her hand on her flat abdomen. "I don't think I could do it anyway."

That was that, as far as abandoning responsibility for her actions.

A guy along on that trip would have been unbelievably frustrated at the end of it. He would have wanted to take the starting question "What do I do?" seriously and come up with a plan of action. But that's not what happened. They talked and cried and talked and discussed but never made any solid decisions about just what Becca would do next.

I'll be honest. I'm glad I wasn't there. It would have driven me nuts.

Chapter 24

Gidget sat in front of the mirror and stared at her reflection. This was crazy. She was crazy to have agreed to it. Going on a date with your own grandfather! Whoever heard of something like that? The excitement of doing something crazy and shaking up her boring life was gone. She was putting on makeup to go out with her own grandfather. It was insane.

But at the same time it was intriguing.

Her fingers did what they did by rote, having done it thousands of times before. A tiny part of her mind dealt with that while the rest of it wondered what the evening would be like. In a surreal kind of way, she was going out with a stranger. She'd known him all her life, but he'd been more of a fixture in Aunt Martha's house than a real person. Even since he'd awakened, she had never been with him alone, or talked with him at any length. She liked him, based on the little bit of information she actually had about him. He was interesting and exotic and all that. She loved listening to his voice as he read from Rip's journal.

But she knew who he was, and she couldn't get past that.

In a sense, for Gidget, it was like suddenly going out with a famous movie star and nobody knew about it except the two of you. A lot of people dream about somehow becoming a good friend to a movie star ... the person that star wants to be with away from the crush of fame ... the secret best friend who gets told all the juicy details and never ever betrays that trust. But when that happens for real ... how do you act? It was all just too strange.

He picked her up in the convertible and held the door for her. That in itself was strange. Men hadn't done that when she was dating. It was kind of nice to be pampered in that tiny way.

Though neither of them knew it, their conversation started out just like inexperienced teenagers talk on first dates ... sometimes on much later dates.

"Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know ... where do you want to go?"

"I don't care. What do you want to do?"

"I don't know, what do you want to do?"

"It doesn't matter to me. I'm sure whatever we do will be fine."

"Are you hungry?"

"A little, but we don't have to eat now."

"Okay ... so what should we do?"

"I don't know ... what do you think we should do?"

In the worst of circumstances, it can go on like that all night. Both people are so insecure that they're afraid to actually give an opinion, or make a decision for fear that the other one won't like it. In better circumstances, a decision is made just to get them away from the curb.

"Why don't we get something to eat?"

"Okay, that sounds good. I'm starving."

"Okay, so what do you want to eat?"

"Oh anything is fine."

"How about Mexican?"

"No, that gives me gas."

"Okay, how about Chinese?"

"No, they use too much salt."

"Italian?"

"I'd get sauce on my blouse/shirt."

"Burgers?"

"Too greasy. They'll give you a heart attack."

"Steak?"

"I try to stay away from too much red meat."

When all the possibilities have been run through and discarded for one reason or another, someone usually says.

"We can wait a while. I'm not actually all that hungry."

Thus begin many dates when both parties are nervous and hesitant for any of a variety of reasons. And thus began Bob's date with Gidget. Or Gidget's date with Bob. It all depends on how you look at it.

In better circumstances, driving around aimlessly in virtual silence for a while eventually gets conversation going. In the best of circumstances, that conversation blossoms into an actual relationship.

It started with Gidget sighing.

"This is so weird."

"Why's that?" asked Bob.

"Because you're my grandfather."

"Oh." He drove on for a while. "You know, I have lots of memories, but not very many of you. Your voice I mean. You and Sunny and Polly."

She looked at him. He was handsome with the wind blowing in his hair. "I guess because you were sleeping we didn't pay much attention to you."

"That's understandable." he said.

"I always wondered why Becca liked to go over there and read to you and tell you stories and things."

"At the time, I didn't actually think about what I was hearing. It's hard to describe. It was like a dream, but you're not really interested in getting into the dream, and you don't want to wake up, so you just sort of go back to sleep. Then somebody says something or does something and you're aware of it, but..."

"I can't imagine what it must have been like." said Gidget, empathizing with him for the first time in her life.

"It wasn't bad exactly. It wasn't anything. I wasn't lying there aware of everything and screaming inside to wake up. And the funny thing is that, when I did wake up, I remembered almost everything everybody said to me, or did to me. It took a while, but now I feel like I have part of that time back because I have memories of it."

That led to Bob asking her to bring him up to date on her life while he slept. He was a good listener and the family relationship between them actually fostered her telling him things. She started with her secret dislike for her own name. Everyone treated her like she was an empty-headed bimbo as a girl and she blamed it on her name. She found it was easy to talk to him about her teenage years, when she was so frantic to find love. The more she talked, the more she felt a burden lift from her shoulders. She'd never told anyone in the family about the professor who had misused her so badly and become Becca's absent father. As it tumbled out of her mouth she couldn't believe she was vomiting it all up. His hand came and lay on top of hers, which was on her leg. It felt good to feel that human touch.

She actually slumped when that part of her story was done, feeling drained.

"I wish I could have been there to help you." he said.

"I shouldn't have told you all that. I never told anybody else about that."

"I feel honored you would confide in me." he said.

"This isn't like a real date." she said suddenly.

"Why not?" he asked.

"I would never talk about all that stuff with a man on our first date. He'd never ask me out again."

"Well, you don't have to worry about that with me. I'm having a good time. I like you. I'll take you out any time you want."

Gidget smiled. "You have to like me. We're related."

"Not true." he said "About the having to like you part, I mean. I don't have to like anybody. I'm just lucky that all of you I've been around for a while impress me."

"Now this is sounding more like a real date." she chuckled.

"What?"

"You sound like you're buttering me up. Next you'll say how beautiful I am and how I drive you wild and then your hands will be all over me." She giggled. "Or you would if you weren't my grandfather."

"You are beautiful." he said. "You may be my granddaughter biologically, but we don't really know each other that well yet. For all intents and purposes I'm just a twenty-five year old guy out with a babe."

She laughed. "A babe who's ten years older than you, bub. I just renewed my driver's license and the picture makes me look like a used up old biddy."

"I like my women a little on the mature side." said Bob airily. "They have more experience."

"And when, since you woke up remembering your twenty something year old wife, have you gotten all this experience with older women?" she asked archly. "Have you been leading a secret life chasing around girls my age?" She laughed again.

Bob wished he could tell her about the experience of sharing something so wonderful with a woman who knows herself and what she wants. But he couldn't. She was too wrapped up with their relationship. He looked at her and appreciated her firm breasts and round hips. She wore her hair short, almost in what used to be called a Pageboy and the wind flipped it around. She preferred arched brows and highlighted her own with eyeliner, making her look vaguely surprised most of the time. She had chosen a dark red lipstick that went well with her dark hair. She looked healthy and sexy and Bob, having come to terms with the incest he'd been involved in for fifty-years and a few months, felt his prick stir in his pants.

"It doesn't take long," he said carefully, "if a man is in my situation, for him to become aware of women in ways that, a short time ago, I wouldn't have contemplated." He took a risk. "In this case, while I am related to all of you, I am also capable of seeing you as females of the species. What's a man supposed to do when he's surrounded by a whole passel of beautiful women who are, for all intents and purposes, strangers to him?"

Gidget blinked. "Are you flirting with me?" she gasped.

"Maybe a little." he smiled. "You're a beautiful woman, Gidget. Your head is not empty, nor is your blouse. A lot of men have probably noticed that about you."

Gidget was stunned. He was right in a way. They really were strangers. He was acting like other men had acted, or tried to act. She ignored them all. All they wanted was what they wanted. They didn't care about her. At the same time, here was a man who she wasn't afraid of ... who she didn't mistrust automatically ... and who had just paid her a very nice compliment that made her feel things she hadn't felt in years and years. Her usual response to that would have been to ignore him and move on out of dangerous waters.

But she couldn't do that with Bob.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said.

"Sure."

"Why do men do that?" she asked.

"Why do men do what?" he asked back.

Instead of actually asking a question, Gidget made a comment. "You just called me sexy and beautiful and mentioned my breasts. In my experience that means a man wants to drag you into bed."

"Okay." said Bob. Based on her previous comments, both before and on this date, he had some idea of where this was going.

Then she asked her question. "Why is it that men can't think about anything but sex? I mean you're my grandfather, for pity's sakes and you still notice my sexuality."

"I'm a man." said Bob. "For millions of years men have been scoping out women. There is a biological urge to mate and it's strong. In my day, people tried to ignore that and pretend that it could be turned on and off with a switch or something."

Gidget thought immediately of a boy in High School who had used the popular term that decade when he said "You turn me on."

Bob went on. "From what I can see since I woke up, the only thing that's changed is that sex kept going on its natural course, and people just came up with more and more complicated ways to try to deny sexual attraction, even though it's advertised in everything and everywhere. It's one of the most puzzling things I've experienced since I woke up."

He looked over at her and found her staring back at him, so he went on.

"To answer your question, I'm a stranger in a strange land - kind of like that book that guy wrote while I was sleeping. It was lying on the dresser and it's one of the first things I read after I woke up. Except not everything is strange. There are a few things that are familiar and comfortable, but most of it is odd and jarring. I'm stupid in a way, because I'm behind the times fifty years. But sex comes naturally, and that hasn't changed. I see a beautiful woman and something in me wants to do what nature has intended for men to do for a million years. The only difference is that I'm honest about it. I see potential sexual partners and I don't feel bad about calling them potential sexual partners."

Gidget's mouth dropped open. "You mean ... are you saying ... do you see me as a potential sexual partner?"

"Yes," he said calmly. "But you don't have to worry about it. It's just the biology inside me reacting to the biology on the outside of you ... plus a dose of admiration for who you are. I'm not going to hit you on the head with a club and drag you off to a cave somewhere to ravish you." He grinned.

Gidget's mind was whirling. In all her life, every single time she'd had sex, it had been something of a chase and conquest situation. She had been told all her life that her sex was something to barter with, or that it shouldn't be used at all until certain social prerequisites were met. And yet, under certain circumstances she wasn't able to control her urges. She knew now that her professor had never loved her, even though he said it all the time. He had pushed her buttons and she had resisted, like she was supposed to, until all the right buttons had been pushed. Then she "gave in".

As she remembered those times, so long ago, she now realized that she had never actually wanted to have sex with the man, but gave in because that's what the script said she was supposed to do. But he hadn't gone by the script when she got pregnant. And that had soured her on all scripts from that point on.

Now, this man, a man she wasn't automatically suspicious of, and who she liked, not because of her biological relationship required it, but because he was just a nice guy, was acting like other men. Except that he wasn't acting from a script. He was just being honest about how he felt. She thought back to several men who she suddenly realized might have been doing the same thing. And she had pushed them away. No wonder she was alone and lonely.

"Wow" she said. "Practicing" for dates with other men had suddenly taken on some meaning.

"Are you outraged?" he asked.

She thought about it. Bob was more real to her as a stranger than he was as her grandfather. She'd never been able to view him as most children would view a grandfather.

"No." she said, surprised. "I'm actually not. All you did was tell the truth ... right?"

"Yes. But I didn't want you to be uncomfortable."

"Do you always tell the truth?" she asked, interested now. She unconsciously leaned toward him as she turned in the seat to face him.

"No." he smiled. "Sometimes the truth can cause hurt feelings."

"So how do you decide when to tell the truth and not?" she asked.

"I tell the truth if I don't think it will hurt anybody, and will make things better."

"And you lie the rest of the time?" she asked.

"It's not that black and white. I try not to lie at all. Sometimes I just don't say anything. If the truth isn't actually necessary, and might hurt somebody's feelings, why say it?"

Gidget felt a longing in her that she hadn't known was there. To find a man who didn't play games ... who was honest ... who would listen to her. She could get used to being around a man like that. There had been times when she had been a little jealous of Polly for having Roger to be friends with, even though there was obviously nothing sexual going on there. Maybe this dating thing had possibilities after all. Bob couldn't be the only man like himself in the world ... right?

"There's a radio at the cabin ... isn't there?" she asked.

"Yes, Fran insisted she had to have Rock 102 or some such thing up there." He was confused at the turn of conversation.

"Take me up there. I want to dance."

"Aren't there places in town that have dancing?" he asked.

"I'm not about to do that in public." she laughed. "Not until I've had some practice. I haven't been dancing since college."

Bob thought about it. He knew the Charleston and a couple of other dances, but he hadn't heard any music since he woke up to that would work with those dances.

"Good idea." he said.

That also solved the eating problem for them, since they felt comfortable opening a few cans and heating them in the microwave. Bob told her the story about the first time he saw a microwave in Martha's kitchen and thought it was a toaster oven. She laughed and they talked about other new things he'd experienced.

Then she went to the radio and bent over to fiddle with it, looking for music to dance to. Rock and roll worked for her, to a degree, but Bob had no idea how to move to that music. She taught him a few basic movements and told him to concentrate on the beat of the music. They gyrated and Bob watched her breasts bounce inside her blouse. She caught him looking, but wasn't threatened and teased him.

"You're being naughty. You're staring at my boobs."

Bob scratched his head. "I would have sworn I gave you the caveman speech. Besides, this music makes me think of mating dances I heard about in my college sociology class."

"When my mother was growing up they called this Devil music." she panted, gyrating a little more. It was fun being watched by a man you liked. "They used to do a dance called the Shimmy or something like that. I saw her doing it once when I was growing up. It looked like this."

She stood still and then twisted her shoulders and upper torso back and forth violently. Her breasts went wild, jumping back and forth. She felt her nipples stiffen and tingle as she watched, his mouth open.

"Good grief" he sighed. "It's a wonder all the women didn't get raped."

"Girls teased a lot back then." she said, settling back into a more relaxed movement. "They still do."

"You can say that again." he said. "I saw a girl the other day in a swim suit, I guess you'd call it. It didn't cover as much as my wife's bra and panties used to cover."

"Isn't it horrible?" she asked, dropping back into her habitual conservative persona.

"No, actually, I loved it." said Bob grinning. "It reminded me of the one June was wearing the day I woke up."

Her eyes arched. "Your kidding! The orange one? She never lets anybody see her in that."

"I think she was so excited that she forgot she was wearing it. I was glad. I was so frazzled by trying to figure out what was going on that it was kind of nice to be distracted by all that flesh, even though I knew she was my daughter."

Gidget laughed. "You don't know how odd it is to be around a man who's honest."

"You'd look good in something like that." he said, leering.

"Yeah, right, with all my flab hanging out all over the place." she grimaced.

"I don't see all that much flab." he said.

"It's there." she said.

They took a break and Gidget found a station with slow music.

"Now thats more like it." said Bob. "I can waltz with the best of them."

He took her into the formal embrace of ballroom dancers, his left hand holding her right one out and his right hand on the small of her back.

"They don't dance like this any more." she said as he twirled her, firmly in control.

"Oh really?" he asked. "How do they dance nowadays?"

She pulled his left hand to her back and put her arms around him, pulling him close. Her breasts pushed against his chest and her cheek was suddenly close to his. They didn't so much dance as stand and sway to the music, taking tiny steps. It was immensely more intimate than what they had been doing, and Bob felt himself react.

"This may not be such a good way to dance." he murmured in her ear.

His breath in her ear made her shiver. She suddenly felt the pressure of something pushing against her pubis.

"Oh my." she breathed.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" he asked.

Gidget didn't know quite how to answer that question. She was relaxed and comfortable with this man. She didn't feel threatened at all. And dancing like this felt wonderful, after all those years of going without. In fact, she was a little horny. She hadn't felt that way in so long that it was almost like welcoming back a long lost friend.

"You don't have a club lying around here anywhere do you?" she asked, hugging him a little closer.

"No." he said, unable to keep his hands from sliding up and down on her back. "No cave either."

"Then I don't feel uncomfortable." she said.

"Good, because I want to keep doing this for a while. This feels really good."

He pushed his erection against her just a little.

Gidget felt heat suffuse her face. Part of her insisted this was crazy and wrong. But something else in her admitted that this felt good. It was all innocent anyway.

"You know what you are?" she said into his shoulder. "You're a dirty old ... young man."

"No I'm not." he said softly. "A dirty old man would do this." He slid his hands down to cup her buttocks and squeezed them gently, pulling her against him.

"You shouldn't be doing that." she murmured, but her arms stayed around his neck.

"I thought we were practicing." he said back.

"You mean all those other men I go out with will want to do that too?" she asked dreamily.

"That and more." he said, his hands still on her ass.

"More?" she asked. She felt a tingle start somewhere behind her navel. "But we can't do those things."

"Why not?" he asked. "It's just practice, right?"

"I don't think you're being completely truthful with me right now." she chided.

"You're right." he said. He kissed her throat.

"I haven't felt like this since I can remember." she sighed, rubbing her body against him. Her hips betrayed her and she ground her mons against his lump. "I feel so ... naughty."

"What you feel is the same attraction I feel." he countered. "That's all it is. Animal attraction. We can stop any time you want to."

She didn't pull away. "You're an amazing man Bob Winkle. Are you sure you're not Rip himself? I feel you ripping apart my defenses."

"Your defenses are there for good reason." he said. "They're to keep you from getting hurt."

"But you won't hurt me." she argued.

"If this goes much further you might get hurt." he said, pushing his erection against her.

"Are you really ... hard?" she asked.

"That's not a handkerchief down there." he quipped.

She shuddered at the mental image that popped into her brain of a hard penis. The only one she'd really had time to look at in any detail was the one that got her pregnant. She closed her eyes tightly. She didn't want to see that image.

"Grandpa?" she said, her voice high and young.

"Yes sweetie."

"Could I ask you a favor ... a really big favor ... something you might think was terrible?"

"Whatever you need sweetheart." he said.

Had he said it any differently than that, things might have gone differently. But to her ears that was exactly the right way to put it. She needed ... really needed to replace that distasteful image in her mind. She tried to explain it to him.

"Right now I feel good ... safe ... happy. Except that when you press against me all I can think of is ... him ... his ... his penis." He didn't say anything and she felt better. "I don't want to think of that ... see that in my mind. I need to see another one ... a different one."

"You want me to show you mine?" he asked calmly.

"Would you?" she asked tentatively. "Could you?"

"If that's what you want, then yes."

She felt the nervousness of near panic, and acted before she could chicken out. She dropped to her knees. That had been the script with the professor and she did it unconsciously. Her hands went to his belt and the button of his Dockers as he stood passively. That was in the script too, as was her pulling at his clothing to bare his prod.

She felt a familiarity that was horrible ... and then, he was exposed, and she almost laughed as the script flew out the window.

Professor Lipscomb had been forty-two years old when he seduced Gidget Winkle. He had not been in the best of shape, but was an important man on campus. He had a little pot belly and a slight overbite that made him unattractive to most women. Gidget, thinking of the status of being a professor's wife, bought his line and he was elated when she fell to what he thought of as his masculinity. He was average in every way, with the possible exception of his ... masculinity. He was circumcised and, when erect, would have measured exactly three point seven eight inches. His stubby little penis didn't care how less than average it was, though, and performed well, at least to his own satisfaction. Since he was her first ... only, in fact ... she didn't know the difference. Things were normal, as far as she knew. That penis also delivered sperm flawlessly, which is what had gotten Gidget into trouble.

Bob, however, was uncut and had none of the smooth blunted appearance that she had seen the last time she looked at a penis. The first thing she thought about as it bobbed into sight was that it wouldn't fit into her mouth, like Professor Lipscomb's had so easily. Her delighted eyes took in it's rough look, with it's softened tip and the little hood that looked like a turtle neck that had been pulled up over a bald man's head. It was longer. Much longer. She didn't make measurements in her head. She just noticed it was much longer. The only similarity was that it was about the same diameter as the other one she had seen.

She liked this one better, though that may have just been raw bias. She was in the peculiar position of preferring her grandfather's naked penis over that of one that had actually made her pregnant.

The script came back long enough to make her lean forward and kiss the tip, without thinking. She was immediately cognizant of the turtle neck around the tip of this amazing thing, kissing her back. She jerked back and looked up at Bob with fear in her eyes.

"I shouldn't have done that." she said.

"I don't mind." he said. "It felt nice."

She relaxed and looked at it again. Now that this image was fresh in her mind, she wondered what it would feel like to wrap her hand around something that would still stick out. Her hand had completely covered the other one.

"Can I touch it?" she asked.

"Well, since you already did and the world didn't end ... please." he said.

The act of gripping him, and leaning forward at the same time resulted in something she wasn't prepared for. Her hand kept moving! The turtle neck thinned and popped backwards, exposing something that looked a lot more like Professor Lipscomb's. It was different though, because it was narrower, more pointed. It looked like it would slide into her with much less stretching and pain.

She shook her head, trying to banish the idea of this sliding into her at all. She concentrated on the feel of the long hard tube in her hand. That was completely different and she liked that too. She slid the sheath back over the head experimentally and smiled. Then she slid it back again, playing with it, watching fascinated as the skin turned from bunched up and wrinkled, to thin and smooth.

"That feels really good." Bob sighed. "But if you keep doing it I may start looking for something to make a club out of."

She looked up an smiled. "There's still no cave."

"No, but there's a bed right over there." He nodded at the newly covered feather bed.

She felt a tremor in her belly. "Would you really do that with me ... if you could?" she asked.

"Yes." was all he said.

She looked back at the shockingly sexual thing in her hand ... and her pussy clenched.

"But you can't ... can you." It wasn't really a question.

"That depends on you darling." he said.

"We couldn't." she shook her head firmly.

"If that's what you feel, then you're right." he agreed.

Her body screamed at her.

"It's been so long." she said. "It would be wrong."

"Then we won't."

"But part of me wants to." she complained.

"Then we might." he smiled.

"You make it sound so simple." she said.

"It is simple. Either you want to, or you don't."

"It's not that simple for me." she sighed. "You're my grandfather."

"Right here ... right now ... I'm just your practice date. Just a man." he suggested.

She stood up, flustered.

"It can't be that simple." she argued. "I wouldn't be doing this with some man I was out on a date with."

Bob leaned over and pulled up his pants. He buttoned the button as she watched, her eyes wide. Then he refastened his belt.

"So we won't do this any more." said Bob. It was hard, but he knew it was the right thing to do.

Gidget threw up her hands. "But I want to!" she said exasperatedly. "With you anyway."

"You know what you remind me of?" Bob asked, taking her to the bed and sitting her down on the edge of it. He sat beside her. It was almost uncomfortable because the mattress crushed beneath them and tended to tip them toward the center of the bed because of the hard side rail of the frame underneath. They perched on the edge.

"You remind me of a girl I used to know named Ruth. We went out a few times when I was in High School. She was what we called back then "hot as a pistol." She loved to kiss and pet, but if you tried to touch her skin ... you know, reach inside her clothes ... she'd push you away. Then she was right back wanting more. She always wanted more, but she wouldn't let you do more. At first I thought she was just using her defenses, to keep things from going too far. But after a while I decided she didn't know what she wanted. She wanted more, but was scared, and couldn't make up her mind about what to do about it."

Gidget nodded. "That's really close to what I'm feeling right now."

"For men it's a little different." He went on. "I look at a woman and I'm either interested in making love to her ... or I'm not. It's an almost unconscious kind of decision. For us, there's no decision to make on how far to go. We either want to go all the way, or not at all."

Gidget nodded. "I get that. But for women it's not that way. Like now, for instance. I want to touch you and kiss you and things like that. But I'm not sure I'd want to do more, even though I'm horny as can be. But the thing is that if I do all those things, I know I'll want to go farther later, even though I don't want to now." She looked startled. "Actually, it's not that I don't want to now ... I just can't get past thinking it would be wrong to do that."

"You want to be seduced." said Bob, understanding.

Gidget started to shake her head. Seduction was part of the script ... wasn't it? But Bob was obviously interested in her, except that he wasn't trying to seduce her. Not in any way that matched any script she'd ever thought of. She'd always let Lipscomb have her because he seduced her.

"I don't want to be seduced." she decided out loud. "That's what he always did to me. I only let things happen because he was in charge ... made things happen in me I couldn't control."

"But you don't know how to go about all this without being seduced." suggested Bob.

"Exactly!" she said excitedly.

"And if you were in control, then it wouldn't feel so dangerous?" he asked.

"Dangerous isn't the word I'd use. Helpless is the word I'd use."

"Then, in that case, I place myself completely under your control." said Bob. "I won't do a thing or make a move unless I have your specific permission."

Gidget grinned. "I want you to be naked ... right now!" she barked.

Bob stood up and in seconds dropped his pants and got out of his shirt. He kicked off his sandals and pulled his pants off. He stood, hands on hips. He was soft.

"What happened?" she asked, staring at his shriveled appendage.

"I thought we were done." he said.

"You can do that?" she asked, amazed. "You can just make it go down?"

"Well, no ... not all the time. But if you're pretty sure nothing's going to happen, it pretty well does it all by itself."

"What if I said something is going to happen?" she said.

Bob looked down and used his abs to make his dick move a little. "You're the boss." he said.

Gidget laughed and clapped her hands.

"I want to be naked too." she announced.

Bob stood there. "I can't do anything about that." he reminded her.

"Okay, then, I want you to make me naked ... slowly ... and I want you to be hard when you get done."

Bob grinned and pulled her up. His fingers went to her blouse buttons and undid them, revealing a pink bra. He slid his fingers over the tips.

"Naughty naughty!" she said. "No touching unless I say you can!"

"Yes ma'am." said Bob. He took his time, pulling one shoulder off, and down her arm. He intended to do that with the other one, but it actually just fell down all by itself. Her eyes looked uncertain as she stood before him in her bra and slacks.

"Am I allowed to say things?" he asked.

"Okay, yes." she said.

"You have luscious breasts." he said, staring at her cleavage. "I can't wait to see them. I bet you have long, stiff nipples."

"Wrong!" she said with glee. "My nipples just lay there, flat and uninteresting. The last time they stuck out was when I was feeding Becca. Nice try buster. And my boobs are fat, not luscious."

"You have to turn around." said Bob.

"Oh!" she said. She turned and he unclipped the bra. He pushed it forward, off her shoulders, sliding his hands down her arms. Then he turned her around to face him. Her arms were under her breasts, holding them up and the bra cups on them. "You touched me." she accused.

"Sorry." he said. "I'm kind of excited." He looked down at his prick which was already stiff again. "See?"

"Already?" she said.

"I told you you were beautiful."

"We'll see about that. Continue." she ordered.

He tugged at her bra, and she lowered her arms, which had been pressing the bottoms of the cups up against her breasts. She tensed as the cups slid free and her breasts were exposed. They were heavy and needed the support she usually gave them. She still ran, though not nearly as often as she needed to, and they hurt if she didn't support them. Her areolas were wide and deep pink, rather than brown and sat high on each breast, almost as if they were on top of the breasts, rather than at the tips. When she bent over though, they formed tips where tips should be. With her dark hair it looked almost odd. Her nipples were just a shade darker and were, indeed, flat, almost invisible, just dots of darker color on her areolas. Her breasts swung apart a little, forced to the sides by the bulk of flesh that made her cleavage, and that made her areolas look like two large eyes peering up and to the sides. They looked soft and warm and just begged for hands to hold them.

"May I touch them?" asked Bob.

"You still want to?" she asked.

"Most definitely. That's not all I want to do with them."

"Masher." she accused. "Not yet. I want to be naked." she said imperiously.

Bob knelt and tried to find the closure of her slacks. Her hips were round and firm. He already knew what her buttocks felt like and they were also firm and tight. She turned, giggling to expose the rear zipper and hook. He undid them both to reveal matching pink panties and pushed the slacks to the front and down. He slid them down her hips, brushing his hands against her panties.

"Careful." she warned. "That's perilously close to touching."

He ignored her, sliding his hands all the way down her outer thighs. She tried to balance on one foot, lifting the other, and waved her arms in the air. Bob wished he was facing her. He'd like to have seen what her breasts were doing as she waved her arms. He pulled one leg off her foot as she hopped and giggled. Then she changed feet. He got up and went around to the front.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I want to be in front of you for the other leg." he said. He leered at her chest as she raised her leg, using his hands to feel for the pants leg and pull at it. It caused her to hop longer and she laughed as he stared.

"You are a dirty old man." she said. "They're so wobbly." she complained, looking down at her bouncing breasts."

"They're gorgeous." he said. "I can't wait to taste them."

"And who said you get to taste them?" she teased.

"Why else are you getting naked?" he asked.

"To torment you!" she giggled.

She stood before him in just her panties. He reached for them. He pulled at them slowly, tugging at different places to make them come down without rolling up or getting too tight. Her pubis was therefore exposed very slowly. He heard her gasp and looked up to see her lower lip caught between her teeth.

Her pubic hair was short and lay flat on her mons. It wasn't trimmed in any way, but it hid little, letting her white skin show through the thin strands. Bob licked his lips as he got the panties lower and lower, anticipating being able to see her labia clearly. He wasn't disappointed. Her scent drifted into his nose and he knew she was aroused. As he pulled the bottom of the panty legs to her thighs he saw her split, comprised of thick outer labia that completely hid her inner pussy lips. It looked like you could press a pencil between them and it would stay there until she spread her legs.

Professor Lipscomb had been a meat and potatoes sort of lover. He got them going, got them spread for him, and dumped his load. If they came, so much the better, since that might keep them coming back longer. They eventually figured out that he was lying to them, and wandered away. But there were always more young innocent things to seduce. He had never, therefore, engaged in cunnilingus. There wasn't anything in it for him, after all.

So much for the "educated" mind.

Bob looked at the split peach in front of his eyes and, without permission, leaned forward to jam his face between her thighs, reaching around to grab those firm buttocks and pull her toward him. He stuck out his tongue to lick up any nectar that might be there. Before she could react, the tip of his tongue had found her clit, hidden between those thick folds of flesh, and flicked it twice.

Gidget's reaction was both explosive and violent. No one had ever done this to her. She knew about it, of course, but that was something foreign that happened to other women ... not her. And he had touched her without permission. She batted at his head, pushing him back and danced away from him as he fell forward on his hands and knees. About then her brain got the message his tongue had been sending via her clit.

"Bad!" she yelped.

"I'm sorry." He put some whine in his voice. He shouldn't have done that. "I couldn't help it. It looked so delicious." He tried to look meek. "I won't do it again ... I promise."

"I should hope not!" she said indignantly. "That's nasty!"

"It's delicious." he countered. "You taste tangy and luscious."

"Really?" she was in territory she'd never been in before and didn't know what to think.

"Really." he confirmed. He pointed to his cock, which was so hard it was bent a little. "See what you do to me?"

Gidget looked at the long hard thing and felt that feeling in her pussy that meant she was losing control. It didn't seem so bad right now, though. All things considered he really was trying to do things her way. She realized her panties were still stretched between her thighs and bent over to remove them, stepping gracefully out of them. She stood in front of this naked man, naked herself. His prick jutted at her. She knew what he wanted to do with that long firm thing. But he was over there ... and she was over here ... and it just didn't seem so dangerous this way. She suddenly didn't know what to do. In the past, by this time, Professor Lipscomb was all over her and she was fighting just to try to find a comfortable position to be ravished in.

"Could we dance some more?" she asked.

"Ooooo I'd love to see you do that Shimmy thing." he sighed.

She laughed and shimmied for him, feeling her breasts wiggle and shake. He grasped his penis, squeezing it as she did so. She felt elated that she had the power to make this man so horny that he'd touch himself.

The slow music was still on and she waited for him.

"You know ... it will be different ... dancing like this." he said.

"I know. You just behave yourself." she said.

As they came together he quickly reached for his prick and bent it to slide it between her thighs. He had her in his embrace before she could object, but then, feeling it there ... not in her ... but just next to her, it felt good. She relaxed and let herself be held.

It was like a body massage, where skin was touched by skin everywhere. It was much more erotic than she'd imagined it even could be, and she knew she was in trouble within a minute. His prick sawed back and forth, pushing up against her, making her wetter than she had been. Her breasts felt so good against his chest that she wanted to crush him against her. She hadn't even felt his hands on her bare buttocks until she forced herself to take inventory, in an attempt to calm down.

"You seduced me after all." she sighed into his ear.

"Who? Me?"

"I want to be ravished, and that means you seduced me."

"So ... it's all my fault?" he said, kissing her throat.

"See? You're kissing my neck and I didn't say you could. That beautiful penis is pressing against me, wanting inside me, making it impossible to resist you. You're seducing me!" she whined.

"I can stop." he said.

"Could you really stop?" she asked, leaning back to look in his face.

"If I knew it would hurt you to go further I would stop." he said firmly.

"What would you do then?" she asked, bumping her mons against him.

"I'd masturbate like a chimpanzee on amphetamines." he admitted.

"Well I can't stop now." she moaned.

"Of course you can. You can masturbate too." he said.

"It's not the same." she whined.

"No, but that's what we can do if that's what you want."

"I want you." she said grumpily. "I want something inside me ... not my finger."

"You want to be seduced." he said gently.

"I don't like you very much right now." she moaned.

"You want me to seduce you right now?" he asked.

"Nooooo ... yes ... I don't know!" She humped him vigorously.

He pushed her back from him and she whined. He went to the bed and flopped in the middle on his back. He started masturbating, looking at her.

"I'm going to do this now unless you come and stop me." he said.

Gidget's own hand had replaced his prick, rubbing her lips, digging at her clit. She shot a look of almost anger at him. Suddenly she stalked to the bed and climbed up on it, her arms waving as the mattress collapsed under her feet and she swayed. She straddled his hips, looking down at him.

"I can't be on top." she said pouting.

"Why not?" he asked.

"That's not how it's done." she said.

"You have too many rules." he muttered. He kept stroking.

"Oh!" she shouted in frustration. Angrily she squatted, putting her hands on his chest. He held his prick up for her as she tried to look between her hanging breasts.

"Go ahead." he said, wanting to lift his hips. "Ravish me."

With a little whine of frustration she lowered her hips and he suddenly felt heat around the tip of his cock. She wasn't thinking about the fact that she hadn't done this in sixteen years. She was so frustrated that she just let her weight down on him all at once. His pointy long prick sliced up into her like a hot knife into warm butter.

What made her wilt wasn't the feel of a prick in her again. She wasn't ultra tight, despite the lack of ... exercise ... she'd had in that region. In fact, they were a perfect fit for each other. What she wasn't prepared for was that his penis went twice as far up inside her as Lipscomb's had. It went all the way to her cervix and, at the angle she was at, the head lodged firmly in those lips. There was at once an aching pain she had never felt, and a feeling of overpowering satisfaction at being full. The combination caused her to fall forward onto Bob's chest and lay limply.

"Ohhhh baby, don't just lie there." he gasped, grabbing her butt and pushing and pulling. "I'm dying here. I have to have you."

Her frustration gone, her next feeling was that she was doing something wrong. The feeling in her pussy was so delicious, though, she decided to worry about that later and pushed her worry back somewhere quiet. Her inhibitions went with her worry. He undoubtedly wanted her ... had to have her ... was crazy for her. And that made her crazy for him.

She pushed up and started moving around, almost like she was trying to find a comfortable position. But it wasn't that at all. This was so new, and everything felt so different, she wanted to experience every possible pressure. She found that she could move just a little bit, but it made a huge difference in how he felt up inside her. She could get almost to that dull pain deep inside and then ease back. It was that that developed into a natural rocking motion, her hands on his chest. His prick poked and prodded her in ways she'd never felt in her life and she was amazed and delighted. The tip of his cock fucked her cervix ever so gently and she found that pain addictive. She let her belly sag forward and arched her back to scrape and mash her clit. She'd had orgasms before, sometimes even with the professor. Not every time, but sometimes. She felt one looming now and welcomed it with open arms, eager for it to wash all over her.

"Ohhhh Grandpa." Her mind reverted to her usual name for him. "I'm gonna cum Grandpa." she moaned.

"Do it baby." he urged her. "Get that good feeling."

She gave him the play by play as she got closer and closer until she couldn't talk any more as the sensations flooded her senses. She was blind, and deaf for a few seconds as her body experienced an earthquake of emotion. All she could feel was that beautiful prick up in her belly and the devastating things it was doing to her.

She regained sight and sound to find her upper torso being held up by virtue of Bob's hands on her full breasts. Her arms had gone limp. She regained her perch, but Bob pulled at her, lifting his head to reach for a nipple. That nipple, both of them in fact, weren't so flat any more. They stood proud of her areolas enough to bump a finger sliding over them. When she realized what he wanted, she leaned down and he suckled. Sweet pain shot from her nipple to her pussy and she started rocking again. It had never lasted this long with Lipscomb. The first time she'd heard the term "Wham, bam, thank you ma'am" was when Becca was two years old. She'd thought of Lipscomb then. If you looked up the term in a dictionary, his picture should be there.

Bob changed nipples and that breast got to take part in the sensation fest too. He went back and forth as she rocked gently. She had found a place where if she moved just a little, the tip of his prick massaged something way up inside her that made little electric pulses go through her belly and meet up with the electric pulses he was causing in her nipples.

"I knew I was right." panted Bob.

Gidget looked down to see that her nipples were almost half an inch long. They looked completely foreign on her breasts, like they'd been glued there when she wasn't looking. As she continued rocking he played with those nipples, squeezing them, rolling them in his fingers, pulling them until she thought her head would explode.

Her next orgasm was completely different than the first one. That little massaging motion deep inside her caused the sensation to creep over her, like sunlight that was warm, and then warmer and then suddenly hot as fire. Her skin felt like it was going to burst into flames for a few seconds as she held her breath, but she never stopped that tiny rocking. Bob was saying something, but she concentrated on the ripples of heat that played across her body like wind in a wheat field.

What Bob was saying was that he was about to cum. Her dreamy gaze and un-responsiveness didn't tell him anything, but it was out of his hands now. Her cervix had been rubbing the tip of his prick for five minutes now and the irritation brought his semen bubbling and rushing out to sooth that irritation.

Gidget's eyes were closed when she felt the little ball of heat at the tip of his prick. It immediately expanded into a larger ball of heat and she felt his prick pulse inside her. Languidly she welcomed the inner heat that complemented the heat that was now fading from her skin until what she was actually feeling penetrated her brain. It screamed at her that the last time she had felt that ... okay, one of the last times ... it was making her pregnant.

Her eyes flew open and her hair flicked as she looked down at Bob with wide eyes.

"You're making me pregnant!" she gasped.

"Uuuugh," grunted Bob as another geyser of sperm lashed into her womb.

The mix of emotions in Gidget was chaotic. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought about the logical conclusion to what they were doing. It had completely slipped her mind in the ecstasy of once again feeling the things she was feeling. Her former pregnancy with Becca had been a mix of anguish and pride, of terror and anticipation, of alone-ness and the incredibly comforting coming together that her mother and aunts had, for some reason done. All of them had welcomed her bulging belly into their ranks with more love than anyone could expect or even hope for. Their support had turned her pregnancy from a terrible mistake into a celebration of new life. She'd never understood it, but it had saved her sanity, so she didn't question it either. She remembered the shame and pain and rejection of the relationship that got her pregnant, but the pregnancy itself was a thing of fairy tale dreams come true.

Her assumption that she was suddenly pregnant again made all those remembered emotions boil in her brain like the bubbles in boiling water for ten long, painful seconds. By the time her common sense told her to calm down, and that there was little likelihood that this single infusion of sperm had done anything other than feel warm and lovely, she was limp and shaking. She looked down at Bob who wore a look of concern on his face.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Do you care?" asked something ugly from down inside her, before she could stop it from coming out of her mouth.

"Of course I do." he said. "What's wrong?"

She sagged, still plugged with his penis, and leaned on his chest.

"I don't know. I have bad thoughts sometimes. I think maybe I should have had counseling or something. It's hard for me to believe that a man could care."

"I love you." he said. "You're my flesh and blood, and you're all those things I told you you were. I have to care about you. I couldn't keep from caring if I tried."

"I want to believe you." she sighed. "It's just hard for me."

He pulled her down to kiss her. It was strange for her because of two things. First, it was the first time they'd done that. It was a warm sweet kiss, not demanding, but giving. She couldn't remember the last one of those she'd gotten.

But of even more impact was the fact that he kissed her after sex.

Lipscomb had never done that.

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