Message-ID: <1581eli$9706231535@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: Path: qz!not-for-mail Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: From: Krieg Lite Subject: Jenny (Mf+ teen play) Chap 5 As found in the noodle box... Chapter Five Dinner at Six - The Picnic It wasn't the alarm that woke me: something was tickling my nose. I brushed it aside, but it came back. I swatted it away, but it came back. I turned my head violently away, waking myself in the process, and heard giggling. Jenny was crouched beside me, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. "Don't you believe in locking your door?", she asked. "And you're a little overdressed, aren't you?" "Hi, Jenny," I yawned. "You woke me." "I noticed. That's why I'm here, you know. Ashleigh's parents are going out, so she's going to be coming over a little early, and mom thought you might want to come over now if I could get you out of bed. Turned out I didn't even have to. Do you always sleep on the couch? With your clothes on? Or did mom just wear you out? How was she? We're not going to eat now of course, but you can come on over anyway." As groggy as I was, that registered. "Nosy little girl, aren't you, Jenny? Your mother is very nice. I thought we hit it off very well, and anything else is not now, nor ever shall be, any of your business." I glanced up at the clock. Ten till five. "Now is fine; I've got to clean up a bit first." "Can I help?" "No, I don't mean straighten up the house, I mean I have to shower." "Yeah, that's what I mean. Can I help?" Wonderful. Just great. A very attractive young girl asking if she can help me take a shower, and I have to stop and think about it. Things were getting a little more complicated a little faster than I was able to manage. I had the feeling that my life would never again be simple enough for me to manage. "What exactly do you want to do, Jenny?" "Oh, anything. Help you undress, soap your back, rub you down, any little thing I can do to be useful. You know." The grin on her face told me she had all kinds of useful little things in mind. "I'd love to have you help, Jenny, but we should hurry and get over to your place." "Then you definitely need my help to speed things up, right?" I thought about the days when I could actually win arguments, sighed, and said, "Ok, Jenny. You can help." She bent down and pulled my shoes and socks off, and said, "See, all very innocent. You get your shirt", and she began unbuckling my belt. What could I do? I began unbuttoning my shirt. "Stand up," she ordered. I complied. She opened my pants, unzipped them, and slipped them down and off. "We can get the rest in the bathroom. Come on." She took me by the hand and led the way. I pulled off my undershirt, grabbed a toothbrush and started scrubbing. Jenny looked around for minute, spotted a washcloth, grabbed a bar of soap, went to the bathtub, wetted both, then came back and pulled down my briefs. "Just go ahead with whatever you're doing," she said, "I'll take care of this." By that time I had already hit the mouthwash, and was lathering to shave. "Uh, Jenny... I don't think that's a real good idea while I'm shaving." "Why not? You concentrate on shaving, and I'll concentrate on this. We can take care of both at the same time." Just then the thrice-blessed alarm went off. Jenny jumped a foot, and squealed, "What's that?!" I have a rather unique, and quite frankly, loud and irritating, alarm clock. "That's just the alarm, Jenny. Could you be a doll and turn it off for me? Just follow the noise and hit the button on top." She scooted out of the bathroom with her hands over her ears, and I took advantage of her exit to quickly scrape the growth from my face. She came back in with a shocked look on her face. "How can you stand that thing? I'm surprised it doesn't wake me up next door!" "It does the job, Jenny. Can't ask more than that." I stepped into the tub. "Hey! Wait!" She peeled out of her clothes in about fifteen seconds flat, and climbed in behind me. "Don't want to get those wet. Now, where were we?" She brandished the soapy washcloth. "You can get my back if you like, Jenny," I turned away and started rubbing shampoo into my hair. "Sure, just as soon as I finish this," she said, and slid around me and began soaping my balls. That had the expected effect. I resigned myself to my fate, rinsed out the shampoo, and began washing my arms. She gazed thoughtfully at my cock, and commented, "Kinda neat, just thinking that a few hours ago that was in my mom." "Damn it, Jenny! Knock it off! I'm going to tell you this time, and for the absolute last time, that we didn't do anything last night. I'm not going to go through this every time your mother and I are out of your sight. Understand?" I looked down at her when I began my tirade, and there she was: crouched down, soapy water flowing down over her breasts to her crotch where it concentrated around sparce hair and flowed down into the tub in a solid stream. She never lifted her eyes, but began soaping my shaft. I swallowed hard, and continued, but the fury was gone from my voice. "Look. I know you're interested, but this is private between your mom and me. I'm telling you now that we didn't do anything, but from now on I will never confirm or deny anything, and it will do you no good to ask. And it will really make me angry if you do. OK?" "Mom sure was in a good mood today... Haven't seen her like that in a long time. Any reason you can think of why this thing seems to be empty?" She never looked up. "Yes! You have probably fixed me so that it'll be dry for months. It's all your fault." "OK. I believe you. Sure I do. Sorry." She gave it a final fillip, laughed happily, and said, "Now I'll get your back." And she did. By this time I was desperately hoping and somewhat expecting that she would ask me to soap her down, but she didn't. Instead she climbed out of the tub, offered me a hand as I got out, then began briskly towelling me off. When she was satisfied, she pushed me toward the door, said "Now hurry! Go get dressed!", grabbed a dry towel and started drying herself. Just as I got out the door, she called out "Hey!" I turned back, and she struck a pose, holding the towel around her neck. "Did the closeup disappoint you too much?" I rolled my eyes, glanced down at my still very erect cock, turned and walked away with her musical laughter ringing in my ears. By the time I was dressed, so was she, and a more decorous young lady you could never imagine. We walked around the corner to her front door as casually as though we were returning from a walk in the park. Just as we reached the door, it opened and Ashleigh greeted us with a "Hi! Mr. Palmer! Come on in!" Helen appeared behind her and added, "Yes, Larry. Glad you could make it. Are you ready for this?" As I walked in with Jenny in trail, I assured her that I was more ready than I had ever been for anything. She grinned, and said, "We'll see. Come on." She led the way to the kitchen where we all sat around a square table. "Hope you like spaghetti, 'cause that's what you're getting today. I am pleased to inform you, however, that you will have your choice of meatless sauce or the real thing since this pair thinks that animal protein will cause hair to grow on their chests. Such as they are." "That's not exactly true, Mr. Palmer," Jenny corrected, "we eat meat sometimes. It's just that we're not into it." "Hah!" retorted her mother. "When was the last time either of you voluntarily ate anything with meat in it? In a group where you're embarrassed not to doesn't count. Anyway, we're not ready to eat yet, so you're spared having to make those tough decisions. Larry, have you ever played Monopoly?" The girls were watching me closely, with scarcely concealed glee. "Not in years. I didn't think anybody played Monopoly any more." "It's probably more true to say that most people who think they have played Monopoly haven't," Helen set her hook. "Would you like to test that theory?" "My better judgment tells me at this point that discretion is in order, but my life attests to my total lack of adherence to my better judgment. Do your worst!" The words were no sooner out of my mouth than Jenny had a board on the table and was dealing out money. The board had seen some hard use. Well, I had been warned. Helen was on my left and Jenny on my right, which I naively thought might put me in a good position. Before I passed "Go" for the first time, I knew that I had not played this game before. Helen was splitting her time between the sauce pots and the game, but she didn't miss a thing. There were complicated deals going on constantly, and I thought I was coming out pretty well in most of them. And in fact I probably was, but it wasn't out of generosity. The girls (I had mentally included Helen as one of the girls) had me pegged as the weak sister, so they maneuvered to keep me in the game as long as I proved a useful obstacle to their real opponents - each other. Then before I was even aware what was happening, Ashleigh had blown Jenny out of the water, and Helen picked me apart to gain assets for the final battle. The whole thing was fascinating to watch; I even thought that I had started to understand what was going on. Even though she was out of the game, Jenny was concentrating fiercely on all the action. Or at least I thought she was until I felt her toes rubbing the back of my leg. I was fully aware of the precariousness of my position, and had my mind working overtime trying to find a graceful path of retreat. Then the game was over. Helen had been losing ground steadily for some time, but had been conducting a tenacious holding action waiting for a lucky lightning bolt. The bolt came, but she was the one who caught it. She and Jenny congratulated Ashleigh on a nice game, and I chimed in as well but I got the feeling that my congratulations weren't particularly esteemed, even though all of the girls made the correct noises. The game had lasted well over an hour, and when it was finished Helen decreed dinner ready. Jenny and Ashleigh put away the tools of combat and quickly set the dining room table, then Jenny helped her mother bring in the food. The game was forgotten, and dinner conversation was fast, fun, and varied. I was thoroughly enjoying myself. Jenny mentioned something about what they were going to be doing on Sunday, and purely conversationally, I asked about it. "We're going to the mountains to picnic. Why don't you come with us?" Ashleigh and Helen joined in the invitation. What could I do? I accepted, and the details were left for later. After dinner, the girls attacked the dishes and even let me dry, and then we sat back down at the kitchen table. Ashleigh asked with a grin whether I enjoyed the Monopoly game. I assured her that I had, but told her honestly that I wasn't exactly in their league. "All it takes is practice, Mr. Palmer, just a little practice. How about a little card game?" Now I might be a little slow at times, but I'm not stupid. "What kind of card game?" I hoped I didn't sound too suspicious. I remembered the bridge magazines in the living room. "What do you like to play? Oh, hell? Hearts? Spades? Have any favorites that you want to try?" Unfortunately, all of the games she had mentioned placed heavy emphasis on the ability to count to thirteen, and I was pretty sure that all three of them were going to be better at it than I was. I said that oh, hell sounded good. (At least all the cards wouldn't be in play all the time, so counting would be incomplete on most hands.) As Helen shuffled the cards, I finally asked a question that had been nagging at me all night. "How did you guys get so much into games?" "We tried watching TV once," Helen responded dryly. She dealt the first, one-card, hand. We were under way. I gave a little better account of my self than I had at Monopoly. I might still have been the weakest player in the game, but I wasn't terrible, and I was in the game. I only finished last a little more than my share, and actually won a couple of games. I was feeling pretty good, and heard myself ask what the schedule was going to be for in the morning. "We're pretty loose," Helen answered. "We just let things happen, and when we're ready to go, we go." "What time do you want me here?" Jenny popped up with a suggestion. "Why don't you just stay over here tonight? Then you can let things happen along with the rest of us in the morning?" Helen perked up. "That's not a bad idea, Larry. Besides, if Jenny can have her friend sleep over, I can have my friend sleep over." "Right, mom! That's right! By the way, my friend is sleeping in my room tonight." Her mother didn't bat an eyelash. "You know, you have a point. But I haven't had a chance to clean my room, and besides tomorrow's a busy day and I don't want to keep Mr. Palmer up all night." The tiniest of pauses. "With my snoring. I'm sure he'll be quite comfortable in the guest room." "The guest room? Great!" Jenny was grinning broadly. "We can sneak in as soon as you go to bed!" "Larry, I'm afraid you had better lock your door tonight. These two lusty wenches will have no respect for your reputation. Just don't forget our secret knock." I was still back at the "have my friend sleep over", but trying frantically to catch up. "It's engraved on my heart, Helen." My timing might have been a little off, but it wasn't too bad an effort, and I noticed appreciative smiles around the table. "Good. That's settled then. Why don't you run over and pick up whatever you're going to need and we'll get ready for bed." I glanced at the clock. My jaw dropped. It was within ten minutes of midnight. I might have guessed ten-thirty if I had felt adventuresome. I made agreeable noises, and stood up from the table, weak-kneed. Helen showed me to the door, and I stepped out into the cool night air. It didn't help. As soon as I was outside, I broke into a cold sweat. I walked home, stuffed shaving gear and some outdoor clothes, and as an afterthought a heavy Turkish robe, not my day-to-day, hanging-by-the-door job, into a bag, and went back to Helen's. My legs didn't stop trembling during the entire trip. Helen opened the door before I could knock and waved me in. She was in an old chenille bathrobe with no makeup, and was ready for bed. She was incredibly desireable. "Come on, I'll show you the layout," she said, as she led the way upstairs. She turned left at the top and walked me down the hall. "That's the bathroom, there," she pointed at a door on the right with the sound of splashing water behind it. "I'll remind you that you are outnumbered, and if you leave the seat up, I can't guarantee your safety." She pointed to the left as we walked further down, "That's Jenny's room". I felt strange seeing the room from this side of the door and wondered if I'd get a chance to see it legitimately. I could see a shadow moving across the light under the door and wondered whose it was. "And this is your room." She opened a door on the right, across and down from Jenny's room. "Check it over and see if there's anything you need, because once I'm out of earshot, you're on your own." She left me standing there while she went to Jenny's door, knocked, and entered. I looked around the room and found nothing wanting. Helen returned and informed me that she had instructed the girls to tell me when the bathroom was clear. The day was coming to an end. One way or another. She turned and walked down the hall without saying good night, so I said nothing, as well. I sat down in a chair beside the bed, leaving the door open, and waited for the word. It came sooner than I expected. Both girls came to the door to tell me that I could now use the bathroom; they were both in shorty pajamas that sent a lump to my throat. While I was trying to stammer my thanks, they said "Good night, Mr. Palmer," in unison, turned and went back to Jenny's room. I walked, trembling, to the bathroom, leaving my door ajar to spread some light in the hallway. When I returned to the room, there was a shadow in the door. Helen took my head in her hands, pulled me down, and kissed me chastely on the lips. The most sensuous, heart-pounding, fireworks launching, chaste kiss in my life. "Good night, Larry," she said softly, then turned and walked down the hall. As she passed Jenny's door, she bent toward it and said in a loud stage-whisper, "I got last!" There was a burst of giggles from behind the door, which continued long after Helen had disappeared down the hall. I did not sleep well. I'm not sure whether I was scared of what might happen, or what might not happen, but I didn't sleep well. I somehow neglected to lock my door, but my privacy was not invaded by mother, daughter, or friend. Damn it. At last morning came. I didn't want to be the first one up, but neither did I want to be long after the first one up. I lay in bed straining to hear voices or the sounds of movement. I heard neither, but I smelled coffee. It was possible it was on a timer, so I waited, and finally heard soft sounds from downstairs. I got up, threw on my Turkish robe, and went to the bathroom. I quickly showered and shaved, and before I exited, reached back and raised the seat. I walked half a dozen paces down the hall, then went back and put the seat down. Totally gutless. When I got to the kitchen, Helen looked up at me conspiratorially and said, "Bacon and eggs before the meatless wonders appear?" I said, "Sounds very good to me," walked up and kissed the back of her neck. "That's good for an extra slice of bacon. Want to try for two?" She turned, put her arms around my neck, and gave me a very unchaste kiss. Which went on for a very long time. I was about ready to tell her that I was ready to try for a whole pound of bacon when Jenny's voice said, "Morning, Mom. Morning, Mr. Palmer." Ashleigh chimed in with "Good morning, Mrs. Jenkins. Good morning, Mr. Palmer." Helen looked over, said "Good morning, Jenny" and kissed me again. She looked up and said, "Good morning, Ashleigh" and kissed me again. I knew how to pick up a cue. I said, "Good morning, Jenny", and kissed Helen again. I said, "Good morning, Ashleigh", and kissed her again. Girls or no girls, I was breathing heavily and so was Helen. We turned toward the girls with our arms around each others' waist. Jenny turned to her friend and said, "Maybe we ought to take notes, Ash. Sometimes these old-fashioned techniques come back into style." Helen grinned over toward the girls and suggested that perhaps they should bring a large pad, since the day was just getting started. That seemed to end the topic for the time being. The girls were not yet dressed, but they were (thank God!) wearing robes over those shorty pajamas. Even so, I was grateful for the weight and thickness of my robe. Helen had been scrambling eggs the hard way, in a sauce pan, stirring them slowly with a wooden spoon over very low heat. She had just started them when we went into our clinch, but now they needed more of her attention. That was all well and good, but if it hadn't been for the robe the eggs would not have provided enough distraction. I thought Jenny and Ash would stick to toast and jelly for breakfast, but each of them perversely reached over and took a slice of bacon, Jenny from my plate, Ashleigh from Helen's. They looked into each other's eyes, making "Mmmmm" sounds as they slowly nibbled the bacon strips. Every few seconds, they would both turn and look me in the eye while nibbling and making "Mmmmmm" sounds. It was obviously carefully orchestrated, but that if anything made it worse. Despite her work on the eggs, Helen was watching the whole thing with an amused detachment. Finally the eggs were ready and Helen turned to the table. "Girls," she said with a sly glance at me, "I know that's great fun, but who's going to have to take care of him when you're finished?" "We could help, Mom," piped Jenny. "Sure, Mrs. Jenkins", Ashleigh agreed, "we're more than willing to do our share." "I'm sure you are," Helen said calmly, "but I got dibs. Go upstairs and get ready to go." They bounced up and went up the stairs, giggling madly. Helen looked over at me and rolled her eyes. With the girls' departure, Helen and I sat and enjoyed breakfast, and each other's company. The conversation was slow, languid, and pointless. And wonderful fun. I would have been happy to spend the rest of my life sitting at that breakfast table. Then a dual tornado ripped down the stairs and out the front door. "Loading the car with the essentials," Helen explained. When the girls came back in, I asked what the agenda was for the day once we reached the park. Jenny replied, "I don't know what you old people have planned, but Ash and I are going boy hunting." I looked at the girls. Both in thong sandals; both in very short shorts, with the curve of their cute little butts sneaking out now and then, both with open midriffs and shirts that exaggerated their breasts while concealing them. "Boy hunting, huh? Well, you've certainly got the right bait." The reaction was totally unexpected. Both girls blushed bright red and ran up the stairs without saying a word. I looked around at Helen in utter confusion. Considering the racy conversation that had been going on all along, I thought my remark was quite innocent. Helen was doubling over with surpressed laughter. Finally she collected herself and said in her best Southern Belle voice, "Why Mistah Palmah, I do believe you have some admirahs!" I was lost. And I looked it. I finally stammered out, "I'm sorry, I don't understand." Helen looked at me in pity, "Larry, both of those girls have terrible crushes on you." "But I meant that as a compliment. I didn't mean anything mean, and didn't mean to tease them." "And they took it as a compliment. That's why they reacted that way. If anyone else had said the same thing, they would have been right back with some more-or-less witty remark. But when you get a sincere compliment from someone you have a crush on, there is nothing more to be said." "Well, I'm sorry I upset them, anyway." "Don't be. You made their day. Forget it. Really. Anything you could say now would just spoil it." She stood up, kissed me on the forehead, and said, "Come on, us old people have to get ready, too." It was a wonderful, lazy, terribly relaxing, and sort of romantic day. It was a two-hour drive to the park, and it was a pleasure to sit beside Helen and watch her pilot her Legend. She sat all the way back, with her arms almost fully extended at the ten-and-two position. Her eyes constantly scanned, focused well down the road for perhaps ten seconds at a time, then flicking to each mirror in turn and back to the road for a second in between. She navigated smoothly, with no abrupt changes in speed or direction, maintaining between seventy-five and eighty on the interstate. Her occasional comments showed that she was following the conversation in the back seat without letting it distract her from the business at hand. Once after we had left the interstate and headed up into the mountains on an excellent but rather curvy two-lane, she let old habits betray her. I don't know how long she had been driving the Legend, but I know that once as we were diving into a fairly tight right-hander on a rare down-slope I saw her stab for the non-existent clutch and move her hand as though to slap a down-shift. She caught herself in time and casually let her hand continue forward to adjust the volume on the CD. She never even glanced around to catch my smile. Once we reached the park, the girls made good on their claim. They took off to see how much male attention they could attract while staying with a crowd, and left Helen and me to our own devices. The first devices we engaged were a pair of rental bicycles. Helen had a couple of spots she wanted to show me that were a bit more accessible by bike, so off we went. It wasn't exactly true that Helen's spots were more accessible by bike. It was true that they were far enough away that biking, first along the trails, then cross-country, was the only way to get close, but the final couple of hundred yards to each was the hardest, and no bike was going to make it. Her first spot we reached around noon, and we stopped there for lunch in a tiny, magnificent glade the size of a tennis court that somehow had grass like a golf course. We had warm champagne, bread, and cheese and listened to invisible water flowing swiftly to somewhere else. We spent nearly two hours there, doing very little. We sat thigh to thigh, we lay thigh to thigh, we embraced, we held each other close; we didn't kiss. When we were ready to leave, we gathered up what we had brought to take out with us. Helen spent ten minutes searching for a missing toothpick that had been in our cheese basket. When she found it, we were both as happy as if she had found a diamond bracelet. Helen's other spot was anything but peaceful. And the water was anything but invisible. It was nearly four o'clock when we got there, and the afternoon shadows made the light mysterious and magical. There was a waterfall, perhaps eighty feet high, dumping a ten-foot wide torrent of white water into a boiling pool, and behind the waterfall was a stone shelf, completely protected by an immense overhang. That was where we kissed. We had agreed with the girls to start back at six, so we headed back for the parking lot, and got there about quarter till. The girls were waiting with a mixed group of teenagers in a picnic area when we got back. As they saw us pedal up they began making their good byes and started gathering up their paraphernalia. By the time we had turned in the bikes, they were already back at the car waiting. Helen walked up to the car, looked around and began counting. "One...two...three...four. I think that's it. I'm pretty sure we had four people when we arrived, and it looks like we have four now, so I guess we're ready to go." "How did you like the bike trail, Mr. Palmer?" Ashleigh asked nonchalantly. Jenny grinned. "Nice scenery. Not bad at all," I answered. "We thought you might like it," Jenny commented brightly. "Think you can find your way back, Larry?" Helen pitched me her keys. "I might need a little navigational assistance now and then, but I think I can handle it." I grabbed the keys from the air, walked to the driver's side, opened the door and unlocked the others, and popped the trunk lid. Jenny and Ashleigh loaded up the trunk and all three of them dived into the car. The first five minutes or so were filled with active chatter as the girls recounted their day's activities, but by the time we had cleared the park area and started back down the grade all three of them were asleep. I didn't make the kind of time that Helen had made coming in, but I didn't dawdle, either. With the girls asleep, it was a quiet thought-filled trip home. The thoughts led nowhere, however, and as I left the interstate the girls began waking up. Even awake, though, they were nearly silent during the last fifteen or twenty minutes until I pulled up in Helen's driveway. When I stopped the car, they stretched, yawned, and began unloading the car. I was setting down the stuff I had helped carry into the house when Helen asked, "Larry, would you do me a big favor?" "Sure," I said. "Just ask." "This favor might take a couple of hours." "Just ask." "Could you take Ashleigh home?" We had the full attention of both girls. "Sure. No problem. Where does she live?" "Do you know The Oaks?" I knew The Oaks. Very expensive suburb on the north side of town; probably a good forty-five minute drive. "Of course. Not a problem." Jenny piped in with "Great! I'll go along to keep you company." "Sorry, Jenny. You've got things to do here", Helen vetoed the suggestion. "There's nothing I can't do after we get back, mom." "It will be too late, then, Jenny. I'm afraid you're going to have to give up on this one." "OK, mom. I'll stay here this time." She didn't sound at all pleased. "See you tomorrow then, Ash." "Tomorrow, Jen," Ashleigh headed for the door at a brisk pace. I started to follow her, but Helen put her hand on my arm. I stopped and looked around, and she kissed me lightly on the lips. "Good night, Larry. Thanks for coming with us today." "Thanks for inviting me. Most fun I've had in years." Which was absolutely true. I walked out the door to join up with Ashleigh who was waiting on the walk. "I really appreciate this, Mr. Palmer," she said as she walked toward my car parked at the curb. I opened the door for her and gave her my arm as she slipped inside, then walked around the front of the car and got in. She was completely silent for the first couple of minutes after we were under way, then she made a quiet announcement. "I'm going to test your powers of observation, Larry. Tell me what you saw just before we left the house." I thought back. "You mean the thing between Jenny and her mom about her coming with us?" "Yes. Tell me what you saw." I thought back to the scene and tried to replay it in my mind. There was something there. "You mean the way Jenny stood when she was trying to convince her mom to let her come?" "Not bad. Yes. What did you see?" "Jenny was standing in a very strange position. She had one hand behind her back, and was bent forward slightly at the waist. She reminded me of a pitcher looking in for the sign." "Pretty good. Did you notice anything else?" I concentrated on trying to see everything that had happened. I thought that I had it pretty well down, but I didn't remember anything else out of the ordinary. "No. I don't think so." "Are you a baseball fan?" "Not a real fan. I watch a game on TV once in awhile. Why?" "You mentioned that Jenny looked like a pitcher looking in for the sign. You know how the manager and coaches go through all those motions to pass signals to the players on the field?" "Sure." I was wondering where this was all leading. "That's what you just saw. Jenny's sign was very obvious and easy to notice, and she even called attention to it by the way she was standing. Whenever she and her mother are talking in front of other people, they use a set of signs to keep things civilized. When Jenny puts her right hand behind her back in any way, it means that what she is asking for is very important to her. Her mom's sign was a lot more casual. When she raised her right hand and brushed her hair back behind her ear, she was telling Jenny that the discussion was over, that there would be no more argument." "But Helen does that all the time. It's just a habit." "Most of the time it is, but not when she and Jenny are arguing. I've always thought that was a great idea, and I've even talked my mom into doing it. Anyway. The point is that Jenny really didn't want you alone with me in the car." The picture was starting to get clearer. "Maybe she just wanted to talk for another hour or so." "That wouldn't have been a right-hand-behind-the-back situation. She was really serious about this one." "Ashleigh, I don't mean to change the subject, but how did you get so close to the Jenkins'? You're more like one of the family than most families I know." "Jenny and I have known each other since kindergarten. We've always spent a lot of time together, and all three of us are a lot alike. She and her mom have a great relationship, I think. My mom and I do, too, but to be honest I think part of that is because of what we've learned from Jenny and her mom. Of course, with dad it's different. We get along really well, too, but it's not like mother-daughter, you know. It's funny. Jenny and I are really close, but our families aren't. It's not like there's any bad feeling or anything, because there isn't. It's just that Mom and Dad are kind of in a different world from Jenny's mom." She was quiet for a moment, and because I had nothing to say, I was, too. Then she went on, "Larry, I want to be very careful what I say because I don't want you to misunderstand. Jenny is my best friend, but she's really more than that. I really like her a lot and I have a lot of admiration for her. And I really like and admire her mom, too. I don't know exactly how to put this. OK. I'm pretty smart. Really. But Jenny and her mom are both out of my league. I don't know which of them is smarter, but it doesn't make much difference. I like you, Larry. I like you a lot. And Jenny and her mom both like you, too. A lot. Neither of them would ever do anything to hurt you, believe me. But you have to remember all the time that things aren't always what they seem with those two. I don't really know what I'm trying to say except that I want you to be careful, ok?" "Sure, Ashleigh. I'm always careful. That's how I met you, remember?" Even though I couldn't see her in the dark interior, I was pretty sure she was blushing. "Well, ok. You know what I mean. Or maybe you don't. Maybe I don't, either, for that matter. But when Jenny wanted to come with us tonight, it wasn't because she hadn't had enough conversation with me today." "You think she thought we might try something on our own?" I felt the color rising in my own face, and was glad it was dark. "Or maybe she just didn't want me to have a chance to talk to you alone. Or maybe both, really." She stopped talking again, and we were both silent for several minutes. Then she resumed. "Jenny was talking to me today about the last time we were at your house, and about how you let her do what she did." A short pause. "She promised that tomorrow afternoon she'll teach me how to jack you off. Well. Actually what she said was that she would teach me how to use your thing." A very short pause. "Larry, I don't want her to teach me. It's not a competitive thing, I just don't want her to teach me. I don't care whether she thinks she's teaching me or not, but I don't really want to sit there and have her show me how to do it like she was some kind of master of the art. Is that so terrible?" I didn't give the answer as much consideration as it perhaps deserved, and responded immediately with "No. Of course not. Not at all." "I don't think so either. Do you know how to get in to The Oaks?" We had turned off on the street which led to the main (perhaps the only) entrance to The Oaks. As far as I knew there was no guard or anything. Just an imposing looking gate which was always open. "I've never been in there. Is there a problem?" "No, no problem, but after you go through that big outside gate you'll come up on a real gate a little further down, and you'll have to punch in your licence number and your destination to get in. Except that you won't have to put your destination in since I'm with you and all you'll have to do is swipe my card." This was beginning to sound a little less private than I had thought. "Will your parents wonder about my bringing you home instead of Jenny's mom?" "Well, actually, I may have forgotten to mention that they won't be back until tomorrow night. There won't be anyone at home when we get there. Here. Take my card and run it through the reader there." We had stopped at a rather hefty looking automatic gate. "And don't forget to punch in your licence number. The gate will open without it, but if one of the patrol cars sees an unregistered number, they'll stop you." That certainly gave me a secure feeling. I entered my licence number and swiped her card. The gate lifted, and I drove through. "Hold on to the card," she said, "You'll need it to get through the gate at my house. Turn right at that first street light ahead. The first light might have been a quarter mile away. I turned right when we reached it. There were no houses visible from the streets, at least not clearly visible, though I could see the glow of lights through the trees at several points. I had heard that the places here were generally in the one to two million range, and I supposed that included the right not to be seen. We wound around for what must have been over a mile before Ashleigh indicated a driveway on our left. Sure enough, there was another gate. This time all I had to do was swipe Ashleigh's card and the gate opened. As we had been winding our way through The Oaks, Ashleigh had been occupied in giving me directions, and I was concentrating on memorizing the reverse directions so I could find my way out again, but once we pulled through her gate she reverted to her previous topic. "Anyway, Larry, I would really like the chance to do it before Jenny tries to teach me. And since that's going to happen tomorrow afternoon, do you suppose that you could come in and let me try it now?" I could her the tension in her voice, and I could feel it in my entire body. "Ashleigh, do you think that's a smart thing to do? I mean there's a record of my being here, and with you." "Don't worry about that, Larry. After all, Mrs Jenkins asked you to drive me home, and that's all you did. Park right there in front of the house." The house must have been at the top end of the range. As we pulled up I saw lights go on somewhere inside. "I thought you said that there wouldn't be anyone home." I almost felt a wave of relief sweep over me. Regret, too, though. "There isn't anyone home, silly! You'd make a terrible burglar. That's just the automatic lights. Come on. Let's go in." She hopped out of the car, and to my surprise I found myself following her. She opened the door with what at first glance looked like an ordinary key, but wasn't, and waved me though. I stepped inside as the lights came on in the foyer. "Come on, I'll show you around a little," she said, and disappeared through double doors on the left. I followed. "Let me fix you a drink, Larry. Just sit down and watch." I dropped into a deep leather chair and watched as she went to the bar, picked out an oldfashioned glass, eyed it and polished it with a towel, scooped it full of ice, splashed a dash of Angostura on top of the ice, then skillfully added a shot of Italian vermouth followed by a shot of French vermouth, and stirred briskly. "I believe this is your drink, Mr. Palmer," she said with a self-satisfied grin. I tasted it. She made it as well as I did. Maybe better. "I'm impressed, Ashleigh. I admit it." "Bring that with you while we enter the arena," she said, and led me back through the double doors and up a grand stairway. We had walked only a short way down the hall when she opened a door on the right and waved me through it and into her bedroom. "Here we are," she said. "May I undress you?" My mouth was cotton. I desperately wanted to answer, but I couldn't, so I just spread my arms and offered myself to her. She unbuttoned my shirt, pulled it from my pants and removed it. She knelt down, removed my shoes and socks, then stood back up, unbuckled my belt, opened my pants and slid them down and off, then pulled my tee-shirt over my head. Then she looked up at me and with an evil grin slowly pulled my briefs down and off. "Now," she said emphatically, "isn't that better?" She pressed down on the head of my cock, then removed her finger and watched it bounce back up. "Would you like to watch me change into my pajamas?" I nodded assent. She said, "Okay, coming right up." She opened a drawer, pulled out a very ordinary pair of pajamas, and tossed them on the bed. Then she took my hand and led me to the foot of her bed. "Stand right there," she instructed, then walked a couple of paces away, turned back toward me and pulled her top over her head, at the same time kicking off her sandals. She opened her shorts, dropped them and kicked them off as well. She was now standing there in a bra and bikini briefs. "Not much suspense on this one today, huh?" She thought a minute. "Oh, what the heck. I have to take a shower before I go to bed, anyway. Would you like to wash my back?" I forced out a choked "Yes." She laughed, "Come on, then. I'll even let you finish undressing me if you're nice." She led me through a door into her bathroom where she began fiddling with the water controls on the shower. "Here," she said, "try this." I stuck my hand in the stream of water. "Seem about right?" I indicated that I thought it was fine, and then she turned close to me and directed, "Now then, do your duty." I reached behind her with both hands and released her bra, then pulled it forward and off. With those two glorious breasts staring me in the face, I knelt down, hooked my thumbs in her bikini briefs and pulled them down. As I bent forward to get her briefs low enough to get them off her feet, I clumsily lost my balance for a second, and felt soft hair brush against my nose. She laughed, told me to be careful, then held my hand and pulled me into the shower with her. All I did was wash her back, but I admit I redefined "back" on the fly to mean "anything north of the thighs". She didn't invite me to do more, and I didn't try. When we got out, we dried each others' back, but otherwise dried ourselves. When we went back into the bedroom, Ashleigh began putting on her pajamas. "Well, you're seeing me put on my pajamas, but I guess it's kind of an anti-climax at this point." As she finished up, she continued, "Of course, my main event is still to come." She thought for a second about what she had said, then burst into laughter. "I didn't plan to say that, it just happened," she apologized as her laughs continued to shake her. She pulled the covers from her bed, exposing the bottom sheet all the way to the foot. "OK, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to aim you at my sheets so that I don't lose anything. I'm responsible for everything in my room, including the laundry, so I can take care of any stains without anybody else being concerned. You ready?" I nodded, and managed to get out a feeble, "Yep." She moved to my right side, put her left arm around my waist, and announced, "OK. Here we go." She grasped my shaft lightly in her right hand and wiggled her fingers as though she was trying to find a good natural grip. She settled into a good position and began to stroke slowly. "This has kind of a funny feel," she announced. "I like it." My mind went back to Friday night with Helen... The Saturday afternoon shower with Jenny... The banter with the three girls Saturday night and today... Pressure had been building up for a long time, and I wasn't going to be able to hold out long with Ashleigh's silky fingers working their magic. I began to moan. "Is it working?" she asked, and began to pick up the tempo. It was moving too fast, but I couldn't slow down. I felt the surge begin. Ashleigh must have picked up something from me, because she clamped down harder and began to really work. The first spurt shot perhaps three feet, the second immediately following close to four feet. Ashleigh screamed as though she had just won Final Jeopardy, and continued to pump. When it became obvious that the well was dry, she released me and sat down on the bed, patting it for me to sit down beside her. I shouldn't have, but I wasn't sure how much longer my knees would hold me, so I did. "Thanks, Larry. I know it's tough on you being caught in the middle, but you're always very sweet about it." She turned to face me, and her knees brushed my thigh. Her fingers rubbed the trails of jizm on her sheets. "That was fun, you know. I'm going to be looking forward to tomorrow afternoon when I can do it again. And I'm still thinking about you helping me get that full body massage." She patted my thigh with her dry hand, then leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. "Want me to help you get dressed?" "That would be nice, Ashleigh. I have to tell you something, though." She looked at me curiously. "You got a lot more out of me tonight that you'll usually be able to. You're not going to get that all the time." She had gathered up my clothes and was holding my briefs for me to step into. As I did, she said, "Well, that just means we'll have to do it more often, I guess." She pulled my briefs up to my waist and patted my cock affectionately. She started pulling my tee-shirt down over me and continued, "I don't suppose we need to worry about using it all up." As my head popped through the shirt she went on, "And any time we need to provide a little additional stimulation, we already know how to do that, don't we?" Her eyes sparkled. I remembered that first touch of her breast and nearly came again on the spot. She must have noticed my cock jump in my briefs because she again began laughing happily. She continued chattering obliquely about possible things we might do as she finished dressing me. When we had me all nicely reassembled she escorted me back to the front door and started to open the door, then stopped abruptly. "Just a sec, Larry," she said as she reached into the front of her pajama pants. "Here. Want these so you can remember where you were?" She handed me three very soft, very fine, very blonde pubic hairs. "And I'll get you something to keep them in." With that she opened a drawer on a small desk sitting in the hallway and handed me an envelope. She watched with delight as I placed the hairs carefully into the envelope, then folded it and placed it in my pocket. A thought struck me. Where I found the boldness I don't know, but I heard myself asking, "Do you suppose I could have one more of those, Ashleigh?" "I think I can manage that", she said, reached in and pulled out a couple more, and handed them to me. "Thanks," I told her, and stuck the new deliveries between my teeth. She gave an enormous roar, jumped up and threw her arms around my neck, covered my mouth with hers, and forced her tongue in to do combat with mine. She held the kiss, rocking back and forth as though she was trying to devour me. When she finally turned me loose, she reached down and gave me a couple more hairs, saying "Here. I think you swallowed the others. Be careful with these, or you'll have to get the next ones yourself." With that she shoved me out the door and closed it. I could hear her laughing hysterically as I walked to my car. -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /