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Subject: {ASS} RP "Jenny" by Krieg Lite / Ch. 1-8 (Mf+ teen play)
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Subject: Jenny (Mf+ teen play) Chap 1
From: Krieg Lite <critic@anon.nymserver.com>
Date: 23 May 1997 01:18:55 GMT
--------


Some time ago I developed a taste for Japanese instant noodles. Somewhat
more than a taste, I should say: obsession might be a more accurate
term. No longer were the English-labelled varieties from the local
supermarket adequate; I had to have the real thing. I found a source
which not only would airship these delicacies directly from Tokyo, but
understood my desire perfectly, shipping a different variety each week.
One day after several weeks of this had made the arrival of the boxes
routine, I opened a fresh delivery and found something very non-routine
indeed. The following story had been inked by hand on rice paper, packed
tightly in a cylinder and stuffed into the box in place of a container
of noodles.

It is only fair to warn you that this story might well be considered
inappropriate, indeed illegal in some circles, for younger members of
our society to read. That being the case, I can only say that it is with
the deepest reluctance that I must absolutely prohibit non-adults from
proceeding further. If you fall in this category, please cover your eyes
with one hand, and with the other kill this article.

------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter One The First Night

It was still early, not quite five thirty and just turning to twilight,
when I got home, so I had plenty of time. I had barely closed the door
behind me when the knock on it came. Visitors to my apartment were rare,
and unexpected visitors were rarer still, so I was mildly surprised by
the knock, but I was completely astonished when I opened it and saw her
standing there still in her school clothes. "Hi, Larry!", she said, "Can
I come in?" Without waiting for an answer she had stepped inside and was
looking around. "If you don't already know my name, it's Jenny. I've
wanted to see the inside of your apartment for a long time, but I
couldn't think of an excuse. Anyway, since you watch me undress nearly
every night, it's like we're already sort of intimate in a way, so it's
nice to finally really meet you after waiting so long. But really what I
came for, I've got an idea I want to talk to you about that I'd really
like to try. I think it will be a lot of fun. Can I see your back room,
the bedroom I guess it is, where you watch me from?" Again without
waiting for an answer she started toward the back.

It was a good thing she wasn't waiting for answers from me, since I was
still speechless with confusion. As I followed her, I tried to regain my
composure along with at least some control of the situation. "Of course
you're welcome to look around if you like, uh... Jenny, but I'm afraid I
really don't know what you're talking about." Somehow I didn't sound
convincing even to myself, but I felt obligated to make the effort.

"Don't be silly, Larry", she threw back, "I love having you watch me.
I've been putting on my little show for you for weeks now, and I know
you must enjoy it too or you wouldn't keep watching." She walked into
the bedroom and made a beeline for the corner where the desk sat by the
glass doors to the balcony. "If you weren't watching I wouldn't bother
to set everything up the way I do." She peeked around the edge of the
drapes. "You can't see as far down into my room as I thought. I'll have
to rearrange things a little I guess." She came away from the window and
threw herself across my bed. "Ever since I first noticed that you could
see into my room and I started undressing for you I've been trying to
think of ways to make it more fun for both of us. You know Ashleigh,
don't you? Maybe you don't know her name, but she's the tall blond girl
with the fantastic body who comes to see me all the time. She's nearly a
year older than I am, almost fifteen, but we've been friends for ages.
Anyway, I've been talking to her and we think we've got a great idea if
you'll just let us try it. What we want to do is this: she'll stay in my
room over there and put on a show for you just like I've been doing, and
I'll stay here in this room where I can watch you watching her, and then
the next night we'll switch places. What do you think, Larry? Can we try
it?"

It was apparent that I had not regained control of the situation.
Everything seemed remarkably dreamlike. One of those strange dreams
where you are aware of everything going on around you but are utterly
powerless to take any voluntary action, and you keep doing those things
you know are going to end in disaster. My hands were trembling, but I
hoped not noticeably. My knees refused to provide any further support,
and I sat down on the end of the bed...the opposite end from Jenny. "I
really don't know what to say, Jenny. What you're talking about sounds a
little...I don't know, bizarre, maybe. We would all have to be careful.
It would be a lot different from anything that might have happened
before, not that I mean to say that anything has ever happened before,
anyway." Despite everything, there was another physical consequence of
the conversation. I was getting stiff. I hoped she wouldn't notice,
since my case could be weakened considerably if she did. Casually, I
crossed my legs.

She gave no sign that she had seen anything. "Oh, Larry, don't be such a
drag! You've seen me naked, or at least almost naked, lots of times. The
only thing different is that this way there would be somebody else
watching, but she would be part of the deal too, so you wouldn't have to
worry about anybody else finding out. Besides, we're really not doing
anything. And just think about getting to watch Ashleigh, too. You know
what a fox she is. And anyway, it's only fair. After as many times as
you've watched me you ought to at least let us watch you." Since she had
raised the fairness issue, I was going to be in a ticklish position
(perhaps a poor choice of words).

In an attempt to gain some time I labored over an argument and brought
forth an inanity, "Jenny, I just don't think that this is quite as
simple as you are making it out to be. There are some other things to
consider." I was pretty sure there must be, if I could only think of
some of them. My thinking apparatus appeared to be short-circuited,
however.

She rolled over and sat up, obviously unimpressed. "Look, let's give it
a try", she said. "Ashleigh is all ready to go as soon as I signal her.
Why don't you just go ahead and pretend I'm not here. Do what you always
do. That's really what we want, anyway. Come on, just this once, and if
it doesn't work out we don't have to do it any more. Do you have
anything you need to do to get ready?"

The honest answer was indeed yes, but I wasn't sure just how much
honesty I could muster. I stood up, pulled myself together, and decided
that the truth might with luck sound enough like a put-on to get me
through with some measure of dignity intact. "As a matter of fact, I do
usually make myself a bit more comfortable when I'm at home. To be
honest, most of the time I don't wear anything at all. That's why I keep
that robe hanging by the front door, so I can throw it on in case I need
it. Usually by the time I've been home this long I would be completely
undressed and have myself a drink mixed." I thought that had about the
right tone, and that it should have about the right effect whether she
believed it or not. I was about ready to congratulate myself for a neat
turn of phrase when I realized that standing up had blown my cover.

Her eyes were locked onto me just below belt level. "That's great!", she
exclaimed. "I've never seen a guy naked before, and I really want to!
This is super! After all the times you've seen me naked I finally get to
see you, too. And your thing is standing up, too, isn't it? This is
going to be better than I ever even imagined!" She had bounced up off
the bed and was literally jumping up and down and clapping her hands.
"I'll tell you what. Let's go back in the living room and pretend you
just walked in the door, then you can take your clothes off and mix your
drink just like you would do if you were by yourself. I'll just kind of
stay out of the way."

Deep down, I knew I was done for, but I made one last faint hearted
attempt to slow things down. "Wait a minute, Jenny. I never said I would
do it. We really should think about it a little more before we go
jumping into it like this. Maybe Ashleigh won't want to go along if she
hears about all this."

"Are you kidding?", she scoffed. "She will be just like me. I know for
sure; we've talked about stuff like this forever. And anyway, you know
you really want to do it too. If you didn't, your thing wouldn't be
standing up that way. Right?"

I paused and considered. There was no point in prolonging the struggle.
I resigned. "Okay, Jenny, you win. Let's go."

She gave a squeal of triumph and bounced up round my neck. "Wow! This is
great! Thanks a whole lot, Larry. When you're ready for Ashleigh to
start just go over to the window and I'll give her the signal." She
dropped down, grabbed me by the hand and started for the front of the
apartment.

I decided that anything worth doing was worth doing well. In for a
penny, in for a pound. Et cetera, et cetera. I backed up to the front
door and actually opened it a crack and then shut it. I had already
taken my shoes off when I first came in, but I went through the motions
of slipping them off by the door. I dropped my pants, slipped them off
my feet, and folded them over the arm of the sofa. I unbuttoned my shirt
and dropped it on top of my pants. Then I slipped off my socks, my
undershirt, and finally my shorts and pitched them into a pile beside
the sofa. Jenny was as good as her word. I could feel her eyes on me
from six feet away, but she never made a sound. I carried my shirt and
pants to the closet and hung them up, then dumped my underwear in the
laundry basket. I walked over to the bar and began mixing a vermouth
cocktail, which had become my traditional
watchÐtheÐlittleÐgirlÐacrossÐtheÐwayÐundress drink. I still felt
lightheaded. It was as though I were watching myself on a stage. As I
prepared for my evening ritual there was a strange elation flowing
through me that was at least an order of magnitude more powerful than
usual. Jenny's presence had somehow magnified all my senses. My
trembling was gone, and I felt magnificent.

Soon Jenny's exuberance overcame her resolve to "just stay out of the
way", and she spoke out, "Oh, this is really great, Larry. I really
appreciate it, really I do. And now I'll be quiet, I promise." With a
sense of noblesse oblige, I gave her a slight nod of the head as
acknowledgement, took a sip of my drink, and strolled past her toward
the bedroom, the spring in my step magnified by my erection. She
followed right behind me, and as I leaned against the desk with my eye
on the darkened window across the way she took a small flashlight from
her pocket and flashed it twice through the window. By this time it was
nearly dark, and the only light in our room came from the sky and the
glow of street lights nearly a block away. Jenny sat a few feet away on
the side of the bed, staring intently at me and waiting for whatever was
going to happen.

Within fifteen or twenty seconds of Jenny's signal, a light came on in
the room across the way. Ashleigh was standing by the door as though she
had just come in and turned on the light. Her stance was almost exactly
the one I had seen so many times from Jenny. She walked slowly into the
room and across to the closet without so much as a glance toward the
window. Again, it was almost like Jenny, but not quite. Her longer legs
gave her a bit more sensual gait, whether deliberate or not. She went
through a lengthy process of selecting a blouse from those in the closet
(I guessed she had brought some of her own clothes with her to stock the
pond, so to speak), took it out and laid it on the bed. With her back to
the window, she began to unbutton her blouse. My hand dropped to my lap.
I could imagine that I heard Jenny's breathing become quicker and more
audible. Ashleigh took off the blouse and dropped it on the bed with a
motion that for a brief moment brought her torso into profile and
revealed a well packed white bra. Then again with her back to me, she
slipped on the fresh blouse, a flimsy tan see-through that fell almost
to her thighs while showing the band of her bra. I had made a couple of
light strokes during the change and left my hand in position.

Ashleigh began to slide out of her blue jeans. Her longer legs again
played a role, as more of her white panties were visible above the
balcony rail than I could usually see of Jenny's without standing on the
desk. As soon as the jeans dropped to the floor, the long blouse again
covered her panties without concealing them. Ashleigh walked over to a
mirror invisible from my viewpoint, but which brought her into profile
to me again. With a shake of her head she again began to unbutton her
blouse. I began to slowly stroke again. The blouse came off and was
dropped on the bed. Ashleigh turned and walked directly toward the
window. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, then as she turned
away toward the bed, dropped it off. I increased my tempo. She turned
quickly to pick up the bra and I caught the briefest glimpse of nipple
before she straightened up. She bent down out of sight and when she came
up had a flesh colored bra in her hand. She put it on and walked back to
the mirror. Turning, she surveyed the results of the new bra. I
maintained pace, then again increased slightly as she cupped her hands
under her breasts to press them up a bit more. My breathing was becoming
sharper and quicker, and I could feel the warmth begin to creep up on
me. Suddenly, without warning, Ashleigh dropped off the bra and stood in
front of the mirror in her full glory. Her breasts were perfectly formed
with flawless nipples. I stood up straight and moved toward the window.
I had almost forgotten that I was not alone, then I heard a little gasp
followed by clearly audible breathing.

Ashleigh stood in front of the mirror, her right hand massaging her
breasts and her left hand dropped to her panties. My hand had taken on a
life of its own. I felt as if I were about to explode. Then, with both
hands she began to slide her panties down. Without taking my eyes off
her and without missing a stroke, I climbed up on to the desk to get a
less obstructed view. Now I could see nearly down to her knees as she
began again to slowly massage her dark triangle. I was going crazy. I
could feel Jenny's presence. She had moved from the bed and was standing
next to the desk, inches from me. Ashleigh's body began to writhe.
Finally I could no longer hold off and jism shot out across the room,
gaining range from my increased altitude. There was a muffled shout from
Jenny which blended with my own. Despite the relief, the vision in front
of me continued to excite me, and my erection was unabated. I continued
to stroke, though with a slightly reduced tempo. Finally Ashleigh walked
away from the mirror and, facing directly toward me, pulled on her
panties, put her white bra back on, then donned a plaid skirt and a
white blouse which she took from the closet. I was grateful for the
controlled descent, but my excitement continued and to my surprise, just
as Ashleigh walked over and turned out the light, I came again.

It sounds corny, but I began to applaud as I jumped down from the desk.
Next to me Jenny was jumping up and down with her hands clasped in front
of her and saying, "Super!, Great! Wow!" in a tight little voice. She
grabbed me around the waist and gave me a huge hug, then all of a sudden
she ran to the light switch and turned it on, then came back and hugged
me again. "Oh, Larry", she sighed, "that was really wonderful. I thought
I would die when that stuff came out. I never in a million years
expected to see anything like that. I've never felt so tingly in my
whole life, just like I was about to float up and fly away. Ashleigh
will never believe it. I couldn't even have dreamed what it would be
like. Are you okay? Are you ready to talk to Ashleigh?  She should be
coming over pretty soon to see how it went and make plans for tomorrow.
Why don't you put your gown on when she comes in, so she can look
forward to everything for tomorrow. We can tell her all about it as soon
as she gets here. She must have given you a good show, right? She said
she was going to. I'll see if I can give you a real good one tomorrow,
too. It's only fair. You've already seen me a lot, so I can't do much to
surprise you. You know I don't have the body that Ashleigh has, but I'll
think of something good for you. Just wait."

I was exhausted, but exhilarated too. Whether it was the excitement of
having Jenny watch me, or seeing Ashleigh for the first time, or
Ashleigh's erotic act, or a combination of all of it, I had to admit
that no coital occasion had ever matched the fireworks from the
evening's experience. The prospect of a continuation was bitter-sweet,
since it seemed unlikely that any future variation could match this
first time, and a letdown seemed inevitable. All I could muster as a
reply to Jenny was, "I feel fine. I'm ready to talk to Ashleigh whenever
she gets here." Jenny put her arm around my waist, and with my arm
around her shoulder we walked back to the living room. I flipped the
light switch and put my robe on, but left it open so Jenny could see
that I was still somewhat erect. We sat down side by side on the sofa to
wait for Ashleigh.

Jenny was clearly still agitated also. "Do you always do that when
you're watching me?", she asked. "Rub yourself and make that stuff shoot
out, I mean."

I thought briefly before answering, "Well, I nearly always rub myself
and usually I'll get something, but I'll tell you the truth: having you
there really did make a difference. I haven't shot out as far as I did
that first time since I was a teenager, a long time ago, and maybe not
even then. And I haven't ever come twice like that. Even with sex, I
have never come so much so soon after the first time. This was really
something unique."  I figured that since I couldn't decide myself where
the credit for my performance belonged, it would be diplomatic to give
it to her. "You can see I'm still a little hard."

She had been keeping her eye on me, not really staring or anything, but
she wasn't about to miss anything. "Yeah, I know. Would it be okay if I
looked at it a little closer, and maybe just touched it just a little? I
wouldn't tell Ashleigh or anything."

I decided to be magnanimous. "Sure, go ahead. Whatever you like. You've
certainly earned it." As she reached out, it rose to meet her hand, and
then there was a bold knocking at the door. She jerked her hand back as
though she had been burned. As I stood up and closed my robe I bent and
whispered to her, "There will be a next time." I stepped across and
opened the door.

Ashleigh stepped inside and demanded, "Okay, you guys, what have you two
been up to?" She pushed the door shut with her heel and laughed. "How
did it go, Jen? I'd have been here sooner except I got myself all
excited and had to change pants. Hi, I guess you're Larry. I'm Ashleigh.
Nice to meet you. What are you looking so guilty about, Jen? I was just
teasing you before, but you're about to make me curious. Okay, tell me
all about it. What did you think, Larry? Was I as good as Jenny? Did you
see me or were you just watching Larry, Jen?" She sat down beside Jenny
and patted the cushion on her other side. "Sit down here, Larry. Jenny
has had you all to herself this evening. Now it's my turn."

Jenny immediately began to chatter, "Oh, Ashleigh, you won't even
believe it! It was really great! Just wait and you'll see. Listen, Larry
was already naked before you even started. He usually goes around that
way so that's the way he did it tonight. I couldn't see you from where I
was, but Larry said you were really good. Tell me what you did and maybe
I can get some ideas for tomorrow. Is it okay if I tell her what
happened?" She was looking across at me, so I nodded. "Listen, while he
was watching you he was rubbing himself and his stuff shot out all the
way across the room. Twice!"

Ashleigh looked at me incredulously. "You came twice just while you were
watching me? You must have really been turned on." She glanced down at
the bulge in my robe. "Could you do it again now? Just for me?"

I really felt as though I could, but rules are rules. "Your turn is
tomorrow night, Ashleigh. You'll get your chance then."

With one quick nod, she came back "You bet I will!", then turned to
Jenny. "How about you, Jen? What were you doing all this time?"

Jenny blushed. "Just watching really. You wait and see what it's like.
I've already got some ideas about things for next time."

Ashleigh again gave a quick laugh. "Okay, let's leave Larry alone and go
talk about them. Larry, I'll be here tomorrow around five-thirtyish.
Okay?"

Somehow the idea of Ashleigh being here "around five-thirtyish" was
exciting by itself. I nodded, "Sounds good", and stood up to let them
out. The girls stood and started out the door, then Ashleigh turned and
planted a long, warm one squarely on my lips. With some difficulty, I
restrained my response to a token, then turned to Jenny. After all, we
had been "sort of intimate" for a long time, so she deserved to upstage
her sexy friend. I pulled her to me and kissed her tenderly but
enthusiastically, then said "See you later, Love" and let them out the
door.

I knew that I was going to need a good night's sleep. I also knew that I
wasn't likely to get it. I was wrong. Instead of keeping me awake, the
excitement knocked me out completely.



Subject: Jenny (Mf+ teen play) Chap 2
From: Krieg Lite <critic@anon.nymserver.com>
Date: 30 May 1997 03:30:11 GMT
--------

More from in the noodle box...

------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter Two

Ashleigh's Turn

The next day I got home even earlier, before five, but instead of
immediately stripping I sat down and began to read a new novel I had
bought a week or so before. I had hardly read the first page more than
five or six times before the big hand made it to the six, so I thought I
might as well read it again and maybe I would remember some of it. In
another hour or so it was already five forty-two when there was a repeat
of the previous night's bold knock. I casually put down my book and
opened the door. She was dressed in a pink warm-up suit that almost
totally concealed her body. It was incredibly provocative. "Hi, sailor,"
she said, "looking for a little action?"  and strolled into the room.
"I'm Ashleigh, remember me? I expected you to be dressed a little more
casually, or am I in the wrong house?" She stretched up and kissed me on
the cheek.

I gave her a little hug around the shoulders and steered her in. "Nope.
You found it. I'm just running a little late today. I started reading
and lost track of the time. Are you supposed to signal Jenny tonight or
will she just start as she usually does?"

"Jen says she knows when to start. I guess you do, too, but why don't
you go ahead and get comfortable, hint, hint, and we'll find something
to do until she's ready." She dropped onto the sofa.

I was ready to be casual. If it hadn't been for that pink suit I
wouldn't even have had a hard on, so I said, "Comfortable it is", and
started undressing. As luck would have it, my shorts got hung up and she
started to giggle. I was ready. Her giggle even helped. I left my
clothes on the sofa beside her, walked over to fix my drink, then went
back and sat down a few inches from her. She had not said a word while
all this was going on. When I sat down I raised my glass and said,
"Cheers." My voice broke the spell. Almost.

She turned toward me and put her right hand on my thigh. Her eyes looked
a little glassy. She poised her left hand above it and started to say
something. Her voice broke, but she recovered nicely. "Eez eet permitted
to touch?"

With one motion I put my arm around her, put my feet on the coffee
table, and replied. "Sorry, hon', but 'eet eez not yet permitted' ". She
froze. She blushed. Then her left hand came up and scratched her chin. I
could almost smell the rubber burning as her wiring overheated. She was
trying desperately to find a graceful recovery. Just as she appeared
about ready to speak, I leaned over and kissed her gently on the
forehead. She blushed again and snuggled up against me.

To be perfectly honest, I was not being perfectly honest. Although it
appeared I was trying (successfully) to establish my superiority, that
was almost purely coincidental. The embarrassing truth was that I had
developed a feeling of loyalty to Jenny, felt morally compelled to
establish her right of primacy, and had decided early on what my
reaction would be if Ashleigh came on the way I thought she would. I
have to admit, however, that the side effect on my relationship with
Ashleigh was not unsatisfying. Perhaps the ease with which Jenny had
established her dominance over me had given rise to my need to prove my
power over her friend. Or perhaps it was Ashleigh's deliberately
condescending attitude towards Jenny that made me enjoy my loyalty so
much. Or maybe it was a psychological defect. No matter. It was fun.

After a few moments of well-deserved self satisfaction I glanced at the
clock and saw that it was just after six, turned to the unprecedentedly
silent Ashleigh and suggested that the time had come to adjourn to the
bedroom. She brightened a bit and said that that suited her just fine. I
escorted her over to the desk and asked her if she would like to watch
Jenny with me or if she would rather just watch me. She replied rather
quietly that she wanted to watch me, but if she could she would like to
be where she could see Jenny sometimes, too. I said that would be fine
and maneuvered her back up against the desk next to me. I no sooner had
her in position than the light came on in Jenny's room.

She was wearing a loose knee-length blue skirt and a middie blouse, and
with her coal-black hair looked for all the world like a Japanese school
girl. My heart was in my throat, but my right arm was still around
Ashleigh, which left my good right hand out of position. I considered my
options, then realized I had an opportunity to attempt something I
hadn't tried since college:  the death-defying hands-off ejaculation. Of
all the times I had tried by pure power of concentration to rouse myself
to a state of sexual excitement which would result in orgasm, I had
succeeded only once, and that one time was suspect. Although I had
attempted to maintain pelvic immobility, I knew that at the time I had
been at least minimally stimulated by the almost imperceptible pressure
of the sheet on my naked body while I concentrated on a fantasy
involving a certain customer at a local watering hole, who felt
compelled after a few drinks to take her dress off while dancing with
her boy friend. Now, twenty years later, I had the chance to erase the
asterisk in the record book. Thankful that I had only taken a sip or two
of my drink, I set it aside. Alcohol was now my enemy.

I decided that I was grateful for Ashleigh standing next to me. I would
be able to fondle her as necessary to augment the visual stimulation
Jenny was about to provide. With her help, I would be able, I hoped, to
finally put an end to the nagging voices which for twenty years had been
calling me a cheat. I patted her on the hip and pulled her closer to me.
She was nice and firm beneath the pink. Jenny had by now crossed to the
near side of the bed. She sat down on it, picked up a magazine and
propped her feet up on a conveniently placed chair, letting her skirt
rise nearly to her waist and providing me with a view of white panties
with some kind of a small pattern. It seemed to be either clowns or
puppy dogs. She had remembered the limited view. I let my hand move up
around Ashleigh's waist. It was also nice and firm, and I remembered the
image of her breasts from the night before. I decided to savor the image
while I watched Jenny, and wait until a more timely moment to test them.

Jenny sat fidgeting while she turned pages. She crossed and uncrossed
her legs, then reached down and pressed once briefly on her crotch. She
went back to intense concentration on her magazine, becoming more and
more agitated. Finally, she abruptly pitched it aside and stood up. She
walked quickly over to the mirror and struck a pose. I knew immediately
what was coming, and I loved her for it. Her show was going to be a
portrayal of a young girl envious of the glamorous heroine of a women's
soft porn story. I decided that she and not Ashleigh deserved to be
present at the historic event of my spontaneous outburst. I allowed my
left hand to assume the position, and gently tapped Ashleigh to draw her
attention. She saw my hand, and quickly peeked around to see what was
going on in the other room. She looked up at me curiously and said in
what was almost a stage whisper, "She's not doing anything at all." She
wanted to say, but didn't, "so why are you getting so excited?"

I turned slightly to the side to make room for her and pulled her over
so she could watch with me. In answer to her unasked question I said,
"Just watch." Then, deciding that I had been a little abrupt and that
Ashleigh deserved a little consideration as well, I continued, "I think
her show is going to start picking up a little speed now, and I thought
you would want to see it." Feeling a little disloyal, but not very, I
added, "I doubt if I'll come twice tonight the way I did when I was
watching you, but I'm pretty sure you're going to be able to see at
least one fairly good shot. I'll make sure you know when it's coming."
She quickly glanced down to her left to make sure it was still where she
thought it was, then nodded silently.

Jenny had changed poses a couple of times, awkwardly thrusting out her
chest, then her hips, but was still fully dressed. Now she pulled her
middie blouse off over her head and pitched it to the floor. She
strutted back and forth a couple of times, straining against her bra,
and looking at herself from several angles, then stopped and dropped her
skirt to the floor. Ashleigh had been watching with increasing interest.
She looked up at me, and again in a stage whisper said, "She really is
pretty good, isn't she?" I just nodded and gave her a little squeeze. I
gave her a second squeeze and nodded down to where I had begun to stroke
slowly. She glanced down, put her arm around my waist, squeezed back,
dropped her hand to my thigh, and nodded acknowledgement.

Across the way, Jenny turned away from the mirror, walked over to her
closet, pulled out a flimsy negligee, and put it on. She walked back to
the mirror, made a couple of pirouettes, then stood thinking, hipshot,
with arms akimbo. I tightened my hold on Ashleigh's waist in
anticipation. Unconsciously, my left hand stopped and clamped down.
Jenny turned her back to us so she could see her profile in the mirror,
and we could see her cup her hands under her breasts and press upwards.
Then she abruptly pulled the negligee over her head and sat down on the
bed all in one motion. She reached behind her, unhooked her bra, and let
it fall to the floor. She put the negligee back on, pulled a straight
chair in front of the mirror, and stood on it, again with her back to
us. She studied herself for another moment, then pulled down her panties
and kicked them off. I had begun to approach operational speed. Ashleigh
was having difficulty trying to watch my hand without losing sight of
what was going on in the other room. I could feel her begin to tremble.
Jenny was striking pose after pose, pausing only a few seconds after
each.

Suddenly she stopped dead, positioned about three-quarters away from us,
but with her upper torso twisted slightly to her left, toward the
mirror. She stood motionless for what seemed an eternity, and was
probably fifteen or twenty seconds, then very slowly began to pull her
negligee over her head. As first the back of her knees, then her thighs
and buttocks came into view, I could feel the leaden heat in my groin. I
half-gasped, "Ashleigh..", and squeezed her tighter still. She returned
the pressure, then began to slide down lower until her eyes were nearly
level with her object of interest. She pushed me slightly around until
she had placed Jenny's image in what appeared to be the line of fire. My
hand now rested on her shoulder. Jenny was pulling her negligee over her
head. Ashleigh began to softly chant, "go..go..go..go..", as though she
were cheering her team on. Her cheek was touching my thigh. Jenny's arms
were extended above her head, and she began a slow turn to her left.
Finally she was fully frontal to us, and I could hold out no longer.

Ashleigh's body jerked, then her right hand shot out, a splitÐsecond too
late to intercept the shot in mid-air. She moaned, then started to slump
almost as though she had fainted. It was not callousness, but simple
incapacitation, that prevented me from trying to catch her before she
fell. The initial spasm that had hit me was followed by several
aftershocks, and I was effectively paralyzed. Across the way, Jenny
dropped forward onto her bed, turning as she fell so that she landed on
her back. She arched her back off the bed, and both hands pressed at her
upper thighs. Her room suddenly went dark. My state of paralysis began
to slowly subside, and I crouched down beside Ashleigh.

She was sitting on her feet, with her hands braced against the floor.
"Are you okay?", I asked. She nodded wordlessly, and I helped her to her
feet. She pressed herself against my chest, and I was aware of her erect
nipples beneath a single layer of fabric. She was sobbing softly. I
pressed her head against my chest and gently rubbed her back. Her
sobbing continued, then turned almost imperceptibly to giggling.

"Larry, are you trying to punch an extra hole in me?", she said softly,
and gently pulled back. She had a point, or perhaps more to the point, I
had a point, and she had it. "Listen, guy. If you're still that hard you
can come again for me. You came twice last night for Jenny, remember? So
get on it. Hubba, hubba. Chop, chop. Before Jen gets here."

I had to laugh. "Okay, Ashleigh, I'll see what I can do. Come on over
here." I pulled her over toward the bed.

She jerked away, "For Christ's sake, turn the lights on", she said. "I
want a chance at this one." And she flipped the light switch.

"Okay, let's try this", I said, and partially closed the bedroom door so
that we could stand in front of the mirror. As I positioned her next to
me, I let my hand brush her nipples, then drop around her waist.

She glanced up at me quizzically, then said, "Even if I can't touch it,
I can still catch your stuff. Once it's out, it's as much mine as yours.
So there." She extended her right hand an inch in front of the source of
her objective.

"You got it", I said. "At least if I can give it to you and you can
catch it. What exactly do you propose to do with it?" I was stroking to
beat the band.

"You give it to me and you'll see," she retorted.

As excited as I still was, I didn't feel that satisfaction of her
request was imminent. I figured I might as well pull her chain a little.
"I don't think this is going to do any good," I said. "After all the
earlier excitement this evening, I'm going to need some additional
stimulation if I'm going to do any good."

"How about this?", she said, and she pulled my hand up to cup her
breast.

It could have been coincidence, but the instant my hand touched her
breast, I shot my load. She caught it. Then she looked up at me with a
pixyish look, and said, "I've heard it makes a great skin lotion." She
began to rub it over her hands, then on her neck and face. "I'd like to
give myself a complete body massage if you could provide the essentials.
You could even help rub me down if you like."

I almost came again on the spot, but was interrupted by a quiet
rapid-fire tapping at the door. As I started to go to the door, Ashleigh
grabbed me by the arm and pointed to the wet spot on her shirt where I
had been "trying to punch an extra hole". I quickly stepped back to the
desk where my drink had been languishing, picked it up and spilled part
of it on her. As I went on to answer the door, she stuck her tongue out
at me.

As soon as I opened the door, Jenny quickly slipped inside. She had
changed clothes and was wearing a simple print dress. "Was that okay,
Larry? I didn't know what I could do for you that you hadn't already
seen. Did it work out okay?"

Ashleigh laughed as she came walking up. "It sure must have. Larry was
going crazy in there. I saw part of it myself and you sure looked good
to me. I'm going to have a very tough act to follow tomorrow night."

Jenny looked at me inquisitively. I walked up, put my arms around her,
and said, "Jenny, you were magnificent! Your timing was perfect, and the
scenario was exactly right." Again I had put my robe on before I opened
the door, but nothing short of a suit of armor would have concealed my
ardor. I half expected Jenny to repeat Ashleigh's remark about punching
another hole, but she didn't even mention the phenomenon. She stood for
a moment with her head against my chest, then turned her face up and
kissed me, returning my kiss of the night before. Her breasts were
smaller than Ashleigh's, but just as hard, and her nipples were just as
erect. And she was wearing a bra. To lower the general emotional level I
asked, "How did you get the lights to go off when you dropped on the bed
like that?"

She looked up at me and grinned, "Easy, I rewired the house. Actually, I
just had a thread tied to the light switch and looped around a chair
leg." Following the long historical tradition established the night
before, we all sat down on the couch, this time with me in the middle,
but no one was in a talkative mood. Both girls sat next to me, then
Ashleigh put her outside hand on my thigh and Jenny followed suit. Jenny
glanced over at Ashleigh's drink soaked top and her shiny cheeks, but
said nothing.

Finally, almost reluctantly I broke the silence. "Jenny, could you come
a few minutes earlier tomorrow night, say five- twenty or so?" She
nodded in response, and I turned to Ashleigh. "Tomorrow, instead of
waiting for a signal, why don't you just start at a specific time,
say...five after six or so?"

I could see the wheels turning as she paused briefly, then said, "Sure.
Whatever time you like. Is that okay with you, Jen?" Jenny nodded again.
While I still held both girls next to me, I casually cupped one breast
on each to show my impartiality, simply weighing them, not touching the
nipples or exerting any real pressure, then dropped my hands to their
thighs. For a long time no one said anything, then finally Ashleigh
said, "Jen, we'd better go." There was a brief pause, then both girls
slowly disengaged and stood up.

We all walked slowly to the door. Then, in a mood diametrically opposed
to that of the night before, Ashleigh gave me a brief, almost sisterly
kiss, and walked silently out the door. Jenny turned to me and kissed me
hungrily on the lips three times, then pulled me down and whispered in
my ear, "This is a next time", and reached down and squeezed me briefly.
"See you tomorrow", she said, and walked out the door.


Subject: Jenny (Mf+ teen play) Chap 3
From: Krieg Lite <critic@anon.nymserver.com>
Date: 7 Jun 1997 03:01:14 GMT
--------


As found in the noodle box...

------------------------------------------------------------
    Chapter Three
    Jenny's Return

    Since I had not synced my watch with the Naval Observatory, I can not
swear that Jenny knocked on my door at exactly five twenty, but I can
testify that within normal error, she was within ten seconds of it. I
opened the door and nearly came on the spot. She was wearing the middie
outfit from the previous night. "Am I on time?", she asked.

    "Close enough. Come in.", I responded. She stepped tentatively
inside. These girls were starting to change personalities faster than I
could adapt. "Have a seat while I get undressed."  She did and I did.
While I was, I continued, "The reason I asked you to come a few minutes
early was that I wanted to tell you about something I want to try, and
to ask your help." I could tell that I had her interest. I had finished
undressing and was walking over to mix my drink when I explained, "Your
idea has been really great. These have been the most exciting evenings I
can remember. Now I think I might be able to do something I have never
been able to do before, and maybe nobody has ever been able to do. I
think there is a chance I can come -- make that stuff shoot out --
without even touching it. When you were here before I thought I was very
close, and I think now that I can do it. But I may need your help." I
took a sip of my drink, and saw that she was hooked. "First of all, I
want to say that I promised you that there would be another time, and
that this was going to be your night, and it is. You can do anything at
all that you want." I walked over and sat down beside her. "Tonight, I
am yours. But the reason I am telling you all this is that there is a
connection of sorts. If I get so excited while you're doing what you
want that I come, then we will have to wait until next time. Which is
okay, believe me. But If I don't come, and we get a chance to go watch
Ashleigh without it, then I want you to come stand next to me." I
paused, and took another sip. "That is when I may need your help." I
paused again. "It may be that I am almost able to do what I want to do,
but I might need just a little more stimulation." I paused again and
took another drink. "If that happens, would it be all right if I touched
you? I mean wherever I wanted, which would probably be something you
wouldn't normally let me do."

    She had been sitting very rigidly, waiting for she knew not what,
and now she laughed, dug her elbow into my ribs, and said, "Oh, Larry!
Don't be silly. You can touch whatever you want to!" Then she dropped
back down and asked, "Can I touch whatever I want?"

    I answered, "If you can see it you can touch it. And if you can't
see it, let me know and I'll fix it so you can." I stood up and turned
to face her. "I want you to know that everything you see is pretty
rugged. You can squeeze, bend, twist, or do whatever you want. If it
gets to be a problem, I'll tell you. Otherwise, you are free to do what
you want."

    She brightened noticeably. "Really? You mean it? You know I really
will if you say I can." She extended her hand in anticipation.

    "I'm all yours", I responded. "Enjoy yourself, and if you have any
questions, just ask."

    "Okay, I will." She dropped her hand lightly onto it and began to
explore it and its environs. She brought her left hand up under my balls
and gently weighed them. "It really is hard, isn't it, Larry? Except
right down here on the bottom there's kind of a soft tube or something,
isn't there? Is that where the stuff comes from? There's some kind of
clear stuff coming out all the time...what is that?"

    "Well, Jenny, it's kind of a lubricant. It doesn't really come out
all the time; only when it's stimulated. And it is certainly stimulated
now." It was with some difficulty that I was maintaining any semblance
of composure.

    She giggled. "Well, I should certainly hope so! Anyway, that's what
I meant. I guess it does make it kind of slick, doesn't it. The end is
kind of soft, too. But you know, even if it is soft and slick, it's hard
to imagine how it could go inside...you know. I mean I've put my finger
in mine before, and it's just not that big. I don't see how it would
ever fit."

    "Mother Nature is pretty clever, Jenny. Anything that needs to fit
will fit. Actually, mine is a little on the small side; most are larger,
and some are a lot larger, but any of them would fit with no problem." I
wasn't sure whether she was working up to something or not, but I
started to think about contingency statements to cool her off if
necessary.

    "Yeah, I guess so", she sighed, "but it sure is hard to imagine.
Hey, if this bothers you or anything let me know, okay?" She was taking
me at my word about bending and twisting, and certainly seemed to be
enjoying herself.

    "No problem, Jenny. I would love for you to do that for hours. Maybe
sometime we'll have a chance to see how long you can go before I come.
With practice, I think I could hold off a long time, and I sure would
like to try." I paused for a few seconds, sighed resignedly, and
continued, "..but we had better move on to the bedroom. Ashleigh will be
getting started anytime now."

    Jenny languidly came back with an "Oh, yeah. OK. Sure."  She
stretched and stood up, then absent-mindedly reached down and wiped her
thumb across the tip, then stuck it in her mouth and licked it clean.
She stood up, reached back and took my hand, and said, "Yeah, let's
go...", and started off toward the back. When we moved to the window, I
slipped my arm around Jenny's waist and positioned her next to me as we
both leaned back against the desk.

    "Well, Jenny, here we are", I said. "With any luck we're going to
make history tonight." She looked up at me and grinned broadly, then
pinched me. "Yeah", she replied, "maybe we ought to bring in some TV
crews to cover it." Just then the light came on in the room across the
way. Ashleigh walked in carrying a couple of shopping bags. She put one
of them, apparently the heaviest, down on the desk and dumped the other
on the bed. Ashleigh had obviously been hitting the clothing stores
again, her favorite pastime; it looked as though she had picked up a
couple of blouses and some other articles, but it was hard to tell
exactly what from the pile on the bed. She reached back into the bag on
the bed and pulled out a magazine, then walked over to the desk and
begin digging through the other bag. Her second favorite pastime,
eating, appeared to have received some attention as well, for she began
pulling groceries out of the bag. First came a bag of potato chips, then
a can of something - probably dip, then a bunch of bananas, some grapes,
and finally a couple of apples. The hair on the back of my neck began to
stand up, and I started to feel tingly.

    Ashleigh broke a banana away from the bunch, peeled it, and started
eating it as she walked back toward the bed. Still holding the banana in
one hand, she started rummaging through the pile of clothing on the bed.
She pulled out a blouse and held it up to her front as she glanced in
the mirror, then dropped it back on the bed, stuck the banana in her
mouth and started to unbutton the blouse she was wearing. She was
shrugging it off her shoulders when suddenly her head snapped around
toward the door. She bit through the banana, but caught it with one hand
as it dropped from her mouth. The door swung open and someone entered
the room as Ashleigh stood there with her blouse hanging from one arm.

    "Oh, wow!! That's Mom!", Jenny gasped as she leaned forward,
straining for a better look. Yep, it sure was. I felt a lump in my
throat. Wildly differing emotions came over me simultaneously. My glands
were definitely in turbo mode as they poured an explosive hormonal
cocktail into my blood stream. Metaphors couldn't possible be any more
mixed than my feelings were at the moment.

    As the visual signals from my eyes finally began to fight their way
through to my brain, I realized that the scene in Jenny's room seemed to
be relaxed and cheerful. Ashleigh had let her blouse drop the rest of
the way off, and was showing her new purchases to Jenny's mother, who
had picked up one of the apples from the desk and was munching on it. I
started to relax, and as I did the feeling of resentment at the
interruption of the show began to surface. Ashleigh was there in her
bra, to be sure, but the atmosphere was gone. Jenny's mother put the
apple down on a bedside table, licked her fingers, and picked up one of
the blouses from the bed. She was casually chatting with Ashleigh as she
examined the blouse, then held it up in front of her, sizing it with her
eye. Suddenly she dropped it, reached down and pulled the top of her
sweatsuit over her head. She was braless.

    Jenny poked me in the ribs, then reached around and hugged me as her
mother tried on Ashleigh's blouse. "Mom's in pretty good shape for her
age, isn't she?", she said. Adding, "She works out a lot, you know."
Yes, mom was in pretty good shape. For any age. Ashleigh's blouse didn't
fit her the way it would have fit Ashleigh, but it looked good on her
anyway. And she obviously thought so as well. She motioned to Ashleigh
to grab the rest of her things, and they left the room, she still
wearing Ashleigh's blouse.

    "They'll be gone for hours!", Jenny complained. "When Mom starts
trying on clothes like that, she'll go through her whole closet checking
out all the combinations, and Ashleigh's even worse." Still thinking
about the grapes and bananas, I wondered if Jenny was right, and
contemplated my loss. While I was standing there trying to decide
exactly how I felt about the whole thing, Jenny continued her chatter,
then popped up with "Hey!  I've got an idea! The show is gonna be shot
for tonight, anyway, so how about letting me see if I can make you shoot
your stuff out? I can do it, I know. I watched you the other night and I
know just what to do. How about it? We can do that thing you talked
about next time when Ashleigh is over there. We'll have plenty of time,
like I said. Okay?"

    My erection, which had been starting to fade, reversed course and
began to pulse mightily. "I don't know, Jenny", I said, "It's not as
easy as it looks. I've had a lot of practice at it and I know what I'm
doing. If you want to have a try at it, you can of course, just don't
expect too much of yourself the first time."

    "Oh, baloney!", she said. "I know better than that. Any way, you can
coach me along if you want to. How's this?" And with that she put her
left arm around my waist, and got a grip on me with her right hand.

    "Not bad, Jenny. You're a quick learner, all right. I expected you
to just kind of grab it like you would a tennis racket or something, but
you've got the right idea at least. You've got your fingertips down
along the bottom just right. Okay, have at it. See what you can do." I
glanced down at her face and she was a picture of concentration as she
began to stroke slowly and lightly.

    "You start out kind of slow like this, right? But how do I know when
to start speeding up and all?" She never took her eyes off it.

    "You want me to tell you, or you want to try and figure it out on
your own? Timing is really the hardest part, you know. Especially if
you're going for maximum effect." Maintaining my nonchalance was going
to be a real challenge with this young lady, but I was certainly gonna
give it my all. No point in letting her getting all swell-headed over
this.

    "You just tell me if I'm doing anything wrong, okay?" Her intensity
was a marvel. "I can feel it starting to twitch now", she observed,
"Should I start to speed up a little?" At this point I was barely able
to talk, but I managed to get out a few carefully controlled words.
"Yes, Jenny. I think you can start to speed up a little now. Be careful
to squeeze down on it a little harder as you do, though; press your
fingers into the soft part at the bottom. You're going to lose it
otherwise."

    I had only been teasing her earlier, of course, but the truth was
that even for a pretty girl like Jenny, there really was still some
skill involved. She was driving me crazy, yes, to be sure. But I knew
that there was even more to be had. Even so, my back began to arch and I
started to moan softly. "You okay, Larry?", she asked. "Am I doing
something wrong?"

    "No, Jenny... You`re doing fine," I managed to get out. And just
about then, I proved it. Not with a mighty stream, to be sure, but
certainly with enough to tell Jenny she had succeeded. She squealed and
continued to pump, fascinated, as a rapid succession of bursts pulsed
from me.

    "See! I told you I could do it!", she exclaimed. "It wasn't so
hard." Then she continued wistfully, "But I didn't make it shoot out
nearly as far as you did. I guess I'm really not very good at it yet."
She paused for a second and then perked up again, "But I will be! You
just wait and see! I just need a little more practice." She was still
stroking me, gently again, now more a caress than anything else. Without
stopping she looked up at me and asked, "Can I try it again now?"

    I was still in moderate difficulty, but I answered, somewhat
shakily, "You could if you want, Jenny. But it's probably going to be a
few minutes before I recover from this time, so you're probably not
going to get any results very quickly."

    "That's okay, Larry, I just want to practice a little bit more
before Ashleigh shows up. I don't really care if it does anything or
not; you can just tell me how I'm doing. I want to learn to do it just
right. You know, just the right speed and all." Her fingers were still
working as she talked. "How is this?"

    "Pretty good, Jenny. You have a nice touch. Just...", I placed my
hand lightly over hers and made a tiny adjustment to her rhythm.

    She continued at her task, a picture of concentration once more.
Then she spoke up and said thoughtfully, "You know what?  You ought to
ask Mom out. I'll bet the two of you would get along real well. She's
real nice, and you know she's pretty good looking, too. She hasn't been
out in ages. It would be a lot of fun for both of you and I'll bet you
could score real easy."

    "Jenny, I don't even know you're mother's name, and she doesn't know
me from Adam. What makes you think she would go out with me even if I
asked her?" Jenny's practice was starting to perk me up again already.

    "Her name's Helen. Jenkins, of course. And anyway, you're not a
total stranger, you know. Mom knows you when she sees you; after all,
we're neighbors. Why don't you call her and ask her to go with you to
that concert tomorrow night. Mom loves Brahms, and I know she would like
to go; she just doesn't like to go out by herself. I could go over to
Ashleigh's since we wouldn't have time to do this stuff anyway and spend
the night over there. Ashleigh and I could spend the night thinking up
new stuff to do and you and Mom would have the house to ... " Just then
she was interrupted by a tiny little spurt, most of which just trickled
down over her fingers. "Hey!", she grinned, "I thought you said this
thing wasn't loaded."

    "Life is just full of little surprises, Jenny", I responded. "I
don't know, Jenny. I guess it couldn't hurt to call her. What's your
phone number?"

    "Great!", she said and gave me her number. She squeezed out the last
couple of drops and licked her fingers clean. "Be sure and call her.
I'll bet you guys will really have a lot of fun. Mmm..this stuff is kind
of neat. You know what?  I got another idea for something to try."

    Just then there was a familiar pounding on the door. We started
walking back to the living room, and Jenny never finished telling me her
idea. I think I was relieved at that. As we reached the door, I took my
robe and started putting it on. Jenny suddenly asked, "Hey, is it okay
if I tell Ashleigh about tonight? You know, if I do, she'll probably
want to do it, too. You don't have to let her if you don't want to, but
I know she'll keep bugging you till you do if I tell her. But is it
okay, anyway?"

    My mind was apparently not yet completely functional, because I
heard myself say as I was opening the door, "Tell her anything you want,
Jenny. I can handle it."

    Ashleigh strode into the room, saying indignantly, "Did you see what
happened? Jenny's mom walked in on me just as I was getting ready to
start. Boy, I thought I was had, but.."

    Jenny interrupted, "Yeah, we saw, Ashleigh. What happened?  Hey,
guess what? I learned how to use Larry's thing tonight! I made it shoot
out two times! Didn't I, Larry?"

    Ashleigh gave me a look that would have withered an oak tree. Gee
thanks, Jenny. I managed with some difficulty to keep a straight face
and shrugged nearly imperceptibly. "That's right, Ashleigh. She sure
did.", I said.

    "And guess what else! Larry is gonna start taking Mom out!" Jenny
was nothing if not consistent.

    "Great", sighed Ashleigh. "Just what I need. More competition. How
are we going to work her into our schedule?"  Ashleigh was nothing if
not consistent.

    Consistently taking everything for granted. That was my Jenny.
"Don't be too sure about all that, Jenny", I said. "She probably won't
even go out with me, Ashleigh. I don't even know her. I only agreed to
ask her out tomorrow night. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."

    "You don't know Jenny, Larry," she retorted. "She probably had the
whole thing already planned out and set up a week ago. I wouldn't even
be surprised if she set her mom up to walk in on me tonight."

    "Don't be silly, Ashleigh! I was just as surprised as you were.
Besides, why would I do something like that?" Ashleigh's remark had
started me thinking. I was pretty sure that Jenny's mother's entrance
tonight was completely unplanned: I didn't think Jenny was a good enough
actress to have faked her reaction. But I started to wonder about
whether my call to (what was her name again?) Helen was going to be as
big a surprise as I had thought.

    "I can think of a couple of reasons right off hand", Ashleigh
answered. She looked over at me. "Never mind. Drop it. I'll have my
chance sooner or later." Consistently pragmatic. That was my Ashleigh.

    "Let's go now so Larry can call Mom. By the way, Larry, don't call
her Mizz. She hates that. Anyway, Ashleigh, I want to tell you all about
tonight. It was really neat! Larry says you can do it too if you want
to. Right, Larry?" Yep. That was my Jenny, all right. Mentally, I
slapped my forehead, but I was outwardly casual. "Sure", I said.

    "Oh, really?" Ashleigh looked over at me with an evil grin and
almost invisibly licked her lips. "I'll remember that." She walked
toward me, put her arms around my neck and said, "Good night, Larry. See
you next time." Then her mouth covered mine, and she slipped her tongue
between my teeth. I returned the kiss, and started getting hard again!

    Jenny stood patiently waiting her turn, then kissed me and said,
"Don't forget now! You call Mom as soon as we go out the door. Okay?" I
gave her a big hug to finish off the kiss and replied, "Don't worry
Jenny. I will."

    And as soon as the door had closed I did. I didn't want to give
myself time to think rationally about what I was doing, so I went
straight to the phone and dialed the number Jenny had given me. She
answered on the third ring.

    "Hello", I said, "Mrs. Jenkins?"

    "Yes"

    "This is Larry Palmer from around the corner. I know this is awfully
sudden, but I wonder if you would go to the concert with me tomorrow
night. I won two tickets to it in a little pool at the office and I
thought it would give me an excuse to introduce myself and, I would
hope, an opportunity for us to get better acquainted.

    "Tomorrow night? I don't know... let me think a second. I really
would like to go, but I.. Well yes, I would like that. Thank you very
much for asking me. I've seen you around, of course, and my daughter has
mentioned that she knows you and has spoken to you a few times. You do
know Jenny, don't you? Anyway. Yes, I would love to."

    "Fine! Dinner first?"

    "If you like. What time?"

    "Seven o'clock too early?"

    "No, that would be fine."

    "Great! I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow evening then."

    "I'll be looking forward to it, Larry. See you then."

    "Fine. Goodbye until then."

    "Goodbye."

    Click.

    Well. Now all I had to do was get concert tickets and dinner
reservations. And I didn't even get a chance to call her Helen. I
supposed that "Mrs. Jenkins" would do until tomorrow, anyway. She had a
very satisfactory voice. And seemed to be pretty level-headed.. at least
she didn't rattle easily. But then... Maybe she had no reason to be
rattled. Maybe she wasn't surprised at all. Confound it! I had no way of
knowing. But if Ashleigh was right.. Why? Why would Jenny try to get me
hooked up with her mother anyway? Somehow, I didn't think that "I am the
master of my fate" would be an appropriate line to use at this point in
any case. Since there was nothing I could do about it anyway, I went to
bed.



Subject: Jenny (Mf+ teen play) Chap 4 - Repost
From: Krieg Lite <critic@anon.nymserver.com>
Date: 14 Jun 1997 16:36:53 GMT
--------

As found in the noodle box...

[WARNING: This is a non-erotic interlude. Skip this chapter and wait for
chapter 5 if you're looking for the good stuff.  Maybe even chapter 6
for the serious good stuff.]

[WARNING Two:  Might be an appreciable wait before the posting of the
next chapter.]

------------------------------------------------------------ 
Chapter Four
The Date

    Despite a relatively good sleep, all day the next day I was as
nervous as some pimply faced adolescent awaiting his first date. I had
spent most of my free moments during the day regretting letting Jenny
talk me into this thing. I couldn't think of any way it could turn out
well for me. I could think of a dozen ways it could turn into a minor or
major disaster. I could even wind up in jail. Not necessarily likely,
but possible. But at the same time, there was a certain excitement
associated with it. As the day progressed, my excitement mounted. It was
very much like the time I had agreed to go skydiving: class was fun, but
that first time I knew I was going to step out of an airplane was a
totally different kind of feeling. I wondered if this would end up the
same way. After I had done it once, the second time just wasn't the
same, and I gave it up. Of course, just as with skydiving, a second time
wasn't guaranteed anyway.

    At two minutes before seven, I knocked on the door. Jenny opened
it. She was dressed in blue jeans and a loose shirt and was carrying a
dust cloth, which she had apparently been using. She said in her best
voice, "Oh, good evening, Mr. Palmer. Won't you come in? Mother will be
with you in just a moment." She then turned and screamed up the stairs.
"Mom! He's here!" And then back again to the young sophisticate. "Please
sit down. Could I get you some coffee or something?"

    "Yes, Larry? Would you like something?", Jenny's mother came walking
down the stairs, all ready to go. Remarkable. "Or do we have time? By
the way, I'm Helen. I don't think we quite got to that last night."

    "Helen, you look lovely!" She actually looked better than that,
but I thought I'd better keep something in reserve. "Thank you very
much, I think I will have a cup of coffee."

    "Coming right up!", Jenny said, and left the room. Helen smiled
at me and shook her head, her eyes twinkling, as a sign of resignation
with the behavior of her offspring. I started to relax, though I wasn't
sure why. Nothing had happened to change my original misgivings about
the probable end result of the evening, so it might have been simply
contagious resignation. By the time Helen and I had seated ourselves
opposite each other across the coffee table, Jenny was back: as good as
her word.

    My relaxation was interrupted by Helen's next words. "So you got
lucky, huh?" After a moment's no doubt delightful observation of my
discomfort, she continued. "I wish my office were creative enough to
think of raffling concert tickets. I'm afraid football pools for filthy
lucre are more the style there; perhaps it's because with most of them
music is more often associated with work." I breathed again, and without
pausing more than was necessary to get her timing right, she followed up
with, "Not that I object to taking their money, of course."

    I chuckled appreciatively (and honestly), and disavowed any
incipient civilization on the part of my office mates, pointing out that
someone had probably got stuck somehow with a couple of tickets which he
had used the pool to get rid of. And then commented (again honestly),
"This coffee is delicious!"

    "I'm afraid I'll have to give Jenny credit for the coffee. Though I
feel compelled to add that I taught her how to make it."  Helen paused,
then said "You know, I did win something worthwhile once. I was in the
third grade." She went on to tell a cute, and probably totally invented,
or at least energetically edited, story about winning a typical third
grade contest which gave her a book on the great composers. She told it
well, and her timing was impeccable. She reached the punch line just as
it was time to leave. I was no longer just relaxed, but impressed. And
pliable, I'm afraid.

    Although I didn't realize it at the time, Helen had been taking
command, in a way, or at least limited command, or at a minimum control.
Never questioning, much less insistent, she used stories and anecdotes
to tell me about herself, and also to get me to tell her about myself.
And I loved every minute of it. And I told her. One mildly jarring
moment came when we left. Jenny saw us to the door, and said cheerfully
and innocently, "Good night Mom. Have a good time. I'll see you
tomorrow."

    Although she had said nothing other than "OK, Jenny" at the
time, once we were out of earshot Helen told me, "Much as I hate to, I
suppose I'm obligated to explain that Jenny is going to spend the night
at her friend's. Hence her remark about seeing me in the morning." I
could feel her eyes twinkling in the darkness.

    While we were in the car on the way to the restaurant, I learned
that the third grade book on composers had led to an interest in music
which lasted until college, where she majored in music. At the
restaurant (Chinese, always an effective litmus) she showed that she was
a good, and skilled, eater. She knew how to select her food, and it was
obvious that while not exactly a vegetarian, meat was not a primary part
of her diet. She also knew the difference between good food and
mediocre, and was not afraid to make the distinction once she had tasted
it. Always a perfect lady, she could still make intelligent conversation
about the food while she continued with her account of her personal
history and her exploration of mine. She had grown up next door to
Jenny's father -- a classic romance celebrated in teen songs immemorial,
at least those of our era. They had dated throughout high school, and
had gone to the same college, where they got married while she was a
sophomore and he a senior, and when she had been three months pregnant
with Jenny. His family had had money, so continuing school was not a
problem, or even an issue. Jenny had been born in July, so Helen hadn't
missed a class. Her husband by this time was already gainfully employed
(as a junior executive in his father's company), so neither Helen nor
Jenny were deprived of physical or emotional nourishment. Things started
to fall apart shortly after Helen graduated. Not necessarily because of
her graduation, but just because they had been married for a couple of
years and marriage wasn't what they thought they had been waiting for
all those years. By the time Jenny was three and a few months they had
parted, more or less amicably.

    After the divorce, Helen had gone to work, first as a secretary,
and then later by virtue of some school contacts, as a music instructor
at the school where she had graduated. Work had not been a real
necessity for her at the time, because her ex had been more than
generous. Once they were apart they could stand each other again, and
they remained friends. Until he died in a car accident a year or so
later. He had left her name on his insurance policy. His family had
never really accepted the divorce, still considered her part of the
family, and offered to continue her support. She would not accept it;
but she did decide that she needed to be more than a teaching assistant,
so she went for and got her masters, and then her doctorate, and now had
tenure. And together with my reciting my history to her, that took care
of dinner. But unless you understand that I had never until then even
confided to my mother or my ex-wife most of what I told her it would be
very difficult to explain that I had been --in the most literal sense-- 
enchanted.

    As I drove from the restaurant to the concert hall, I tried to
explain to myself what was happening. I thought back to that first time
I had seen her coming down the stairs. I retraced every path that had
been taken since then. Yes, she had been extraordinarily successful at
milking me for my history, but it was more than that. Why had she been
so successful? I had read before about two people sharing thoughts so
closely that they seemed to anticipate each other, and I had not
disbelieved it exactly, but I had not understood it. Now I understood.
It was as though every time I thought of something, the same thought
would occur to her simultaneously. Hard to describe, even harder to
accept. Twilight Zone stuff. But it was truth. And by the way, as we
left the restaurant, we were holding hands like a pair of teenagers.
Which I don't suppose really has anything to do with any of this, but it
somehow seemed important.

    The concert was highly satisfactory, although of necessity our
conversation was interrupted. The first half included Prokofiev's
Classical Symphony, and was heavy on the moderns with short pieces by
Berg and Shoenberg, but the second half was the reason Helen was here,
and we both knew it. Whoever the eclectic soul who had planned the
program, he couldn't have done better for us. The Brahms second piano
concerto would make up the second half, and it was special to both of
us, though of course neither of us had known about the other's interest
when the evening began. During the intermission we both learned of the
other's feelings for the Brahms' Second, and I could sense the hair
rising on Helen's arm just from talking about it. As we reentered the
hall, she took my hand once more, and held it while we took our seats.
Neither of us said a word from the time we left the lobby, and I don't
know exactly why, but I do know that I could feel the electricity. Helen
had never released my hand, and she gave a quick squeeze as the
conductor came back on stage. I could sense her holding her breath as he
raised his baton, and when the horn cadence broke the silence I could
hear her softly gasp. On the entrance of the piano, she twisted her
fingers through mine and I could feel the emotional electricity surge
through both of us. From then until the final chord we were one.
Indisputably, indistinguishably one.

    As we left the hall, neither of us spoke. She still held my
hand, and I don't think that, other than while applauding, we had been
away from each other's touch for a second. I heard myself say, "Helen,
let's not go ..." at the same time she said, "Larry, let's not go..." We
both laughed, and broke one spell only to fall into another. We stopped
in a traditional post-concert bistro and sipped coffee and brandy and
nibbled cheese while we tried to come down from the evening's high. The
conversation was all in a much lighter vein than earlier in the evening,
and we tried to outrage each other with totally outrageous puns, or
perhaps outrace each other with slightly out-racy stories, or perhaps
both at once. In short, we had a totally, outrageously, almost
incomprehensibly glorious time! Although I am in the running for the
world's worst dancer, I found courage enough to ask Helen to the
postage-stamp dance floor during a slow number. Whether it was the
brandy or just the mood, she agreed. I soon found that she was probably
in the finals for the world's best dancer. And it didn't make any
difference! She laughed with me, and her laughter made me happy. And we
danced some more. And we laughed some more. And finally, just as I said,
"Helen...", she said, "Larry...", and we both laughed. And laughing we
left.

    We were both quiet again during the ride home, and I don't know
why exactly, but it seemed right. And comfortable. I stopped in front of
her house and parked the car. As I got out and walked around to open her
door I noticed what a magnificent night it really was. The sky was
clear, the moon was bright, and there seemed to be more stars visible
than I had remembered seeing in a long time. She got out of the car and
looked up at the sky. Without saying a word, I swear, we walked up to
her stoop and turned and sat down looking up at the sky together. If it
wasn't telepathy, it was a reasonable facsimile thereof. I put my arm
around her, and she put her head on my shoulder. After a long time, I
don't know how long, we both stood up at once, and Helen said, "Larry,
won't you come in for a few minutes?"

    I could not have refused with a gun at my back. We walked up,
she opened the door, and I stepped once more into her house. But this
time we were alone. Helen shuttled me to the sofa, but without sitting
herself, said, "Larry, could I get you something to drink while I get
comfortable? Coffee? Or perhaps a glass of wine?" She paused for the
tiniest, most perfect fraction of a second and continued, the wondrous
twinkle in her eyes also reflected in her voice, "I promise not to put a
move on you."  Somehow that sounded comforting, though ...

    At any rate, I heard myself saying, "Yes, I think I would like a
glass of wine." I dropped to the sofa, and before I had even settled
myself, Helen had two glasses of wine on the table. She disappeared up
the stairs, saying, "I won't be long..."

    The first time I had sat on Helen's sofa, I hadn't really been
in any condition to examine my surroundings. Now I was. Jenny had
obviously continued to work after we had left, but very little was
really changed from that time. I now had a chance to scan through the
piles of magazines on the table and in the rack, however. Eclectic,
indeed, was my Helen. Not much in the way of pulp, however, nor,
interestingly, was there anything from the world of music. "American
Heritage", "American Scholar", "The New Yorker", "Wilson Quarterly",
"American Spectator" and "National Review" (Aha! She was a Republican!),
"New Republic", "Harpers", and "Atlantic" (No, perhaps not.) Then there
was a copy of "Seventeen" (Jenny's, no doubt), and one of "Cosmo"
(Helen's? or Jenny's?). Finally, not with the others, but on a bookshelf
nearby there were current copies of the ACBL "Bulletin" and "Bridge
World". Out of curiosity I examined the mailing label on the Bridge
World: Yep. Helen Jenkins. Amazing. Just then, not more than six minutes
at the most since we had entered, Helen came back down the stairs.

    She had changed into a pair of Chinese red lounge pajamas, very
demure, but at the same time exotically enticing. "I hope I didn't keep
you waiting too long", she said as she appeared. I stood to greet her,
and she said, "Come help me pick out some music." She walked to a
sideboard and opened the doors to reveal a large, though not imposing,
collection of records, CD's, cassettes, and open reel tapes. The same
eclectic taste shown in her magazines was here as well. But again, with
the exception of a couple of records which looked out of place, there
was nothing in the way of serious classical music. The open reel tapes
were all collections of recordings from her other sources, and it was
one of those which she (I?, we?) picked: hours of ballads in the
Sinatra-Streisand vein.

    We had been sitting on the floor while we were looking through
the music collection, and we stayed there as the music began to play. We
listened together, passing a few words now and then, but silent much of
the time. There was a magic present which I had never felt before. There
was a calmness, a comfort, a peace, a perfection that I had not known
even existed. I stretched out on my back and Helen snuggled up under my
arm with her head tucked in against my chest, lying on her side with her
knee resting lightly on mine. We held each other gently and now and then
spoke quietly, almost breathlessly. The music played on, and our
silences grew longer. I could feel Helen's steady breathing, and could
sense her heartbeat. We lay together in a semi-trance state until we
slipped gradually into sleep.

    I don't have any idea what time I actually went to sleep, nor do
I know whether she went to sleep before me, after me, or together with
me. And we awoke almost the same way we went to sleep. All I know is
that the instant I knew I was awake, I was aware of Helen awake with me.
Whether I woke her, she woke me, or we both awoke together I do not
know. She purred contentedly, hugged me gently, and we both yawned and
stretched. "Can I get you breakfast, Larry?", she asked brightly. "I
always like to do breakfast for my men." The twinkle was still there. I
glanced up at the clock. It was a few minutes after ten. "Jenny will be
home soon", she said, reading my mind. "I don't mind if she finds you
here, but if it would make you uncomfortable I can understand."

    "Ah, Helen!", I sighed, "I would love to stay for breakfast with
you, but I really think I should go. Can I see you again soon? I mean
very soon."

    "Is tonight too soon?", she answered. "Jenny's friend is coming
over for dinner tonight, and we could certainly use a male presence at
the table. All girl dinners on Saturday night are no fun."

    "I'll be here. What time should I come?"

    "Probably around six. I can send Jenny for you if we need you
sooner. Okay?"

    "Okay. Helen, I don't know how to say this..."

    "Then don't. You don't need to anyway, you know."

    I did know. Somehow I did know. And so did she. Remarkable. I nodded
thoughtfully.

    She stood up. "Then scoot! I've got work to do before tonight."
She showed me to the door and ushered me out. "See you around six."

    "Okay."

    I was outside. The door was closed. I had just spent the night
with the most remarkable woman I had ever met, and hadn't even kissed
her. I stood for a few seconds on the sidewalk, looking at my car and
debating with myself whether to bother driving it around the corner.
Finally, I decided to leave it where it was and walked the few steps to
my front door. I opened it, entered, and stood silently and motionlessly
for a moment, trying to understand what was happening to me. I suddenly
realized that I had left my tie at Helen's. No problem, I could pick it
up tonight. I hung up my coat, then took off my shirt and pitched it
into the hamper. Then I had a thought. I retrieved it, looked at it, and
sniffed it. There were slight traces of her makeup on the left side, and
it smelled very vaguely of Helen's scent. I put it on a hangar and put
it back in the closet. Okay, it was adolescent. I admit it. So sue me.

    I decided to take a short nap, but to be on the safe side I set
the alarm for four o'clock just in case. It was a good thing I did.


Subject: Jenny (Mf+ teen play) Chap 5
From: Krieg Lite <critic@anon.nymserver.com>
Date: 23 Jun 1997 19:37:43 GMT
--------

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 suppressed 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 license 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 license 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 license
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.


Subject: Jenny (Mf+ teen play) Chap 6
From: Krieg Lite <critic@anon.nymserver.com>
Date: 29 Jun 1997 17:55:37 GMT
--------

As found in the noodle box...

Chapter Six
Transition

    It was nearly eleven when I got home. I don't remember anything
of the trip back; I have no idea how I found my way out of The Oaks. I
got out of the car still in a daze, unlocked my door and went inside. I
undressed, letting my clothes lie where they fell, and staggered back to
my bedroom. On an impulse, I glanced out the window. The light was on in
Jenny's room, but the curtains were drawn. It suddenly struck me that
that was perfectly normal. Every evening Jenny would put on her show,
then she would leave her room, and the next time the light came on the
curtains would be closed. I should have realized long ago that she knew
what she was doing. I turned on the desk lamp to arrange my junk for
morning, and as soon as I did, Jenny's curtains parted a couple of
inches, then a few more and she appeared at the window, holding the
curtains apart. She waved brightly, blew me a kiss, and the curtains
fell closed. Before I could absorb what had just happened, her light
went off.

    I said the hell with it, collapsed on the bed, and fell instantly
asleep.

    On Monday I was at the office by my normal seven fifteen, and moving
at full speed. I was in a groove, and flying. The work I had taken home
to do over the weekend and hadn't touched since was finished by nine.
Just before ten I called Artie and told him that unless he had some
damned good reason for me to attend, I was going to skip the ten o'clock
and keep working. He didn't, and I did. I worked straight through lunch,
and by two o'clock I had finished everything I had targeted for the day
and began attacking a couple of special projects. I can honestly say
that when I looked at the clock and saw that it was already after five I
hadn't given a thought all day to what was going to happen when I got
home. I quickly wrapped up what I was doing and was in my car and on the
way home by five fifteen.

    Traffic was unusually heavy for the short drive, and it was
after five thirty when I got home. For whatever reason, I wasn't
particularly concerned about anything. Nobody had mentioned a time for
the girls to come over, and I wasn't on call to anybody. I ran my own
life, and kept to my own schedule.  When I had shut the door behind me,
I undressed and walked over to mix my drink. There was a firm knock on
the door. No surprise this time. I threw on my robe and opened the door
to Jenny and Ashleigh, who brightly chirped "Hi, Larry!" in unison, and
immediately darted in.

    Jenny had my shaving kit in her hand and she thrust it to me,
saying, "Here! Mom says you won't be needing this over there anymore."

    My heart stopped. The room closed in on me. There was a loud rushing
sound in my ears. I stood paralyzed as I heard Jenny's voice coming from
a great distance, "There's a note in it." With numb fingers I unzipped
the case and pulled out a sheet of beige notepaper folded in half. I
fumbled it open and began to read. "Thought you might need this. I took
the liberty of checking brands so I could stock up here. Hope you don't
mind. You can pick up your clothes (including your tie!) next time, or I
can have Jenny bring them over if you want them sooner. H." I read it
again. It still said the same thing. I began to breathe again, but my
hands began to shake. After a few deep breaths I thought I would be able
to speak. There was a question to which I desperately needed an answer.

    "Jenny, your mother knew you were coming over here?"

    The girls grinned. "No. Not exactly. We told her we were going
to the library and she asked if we would mind dropping this off. We put
up a little fight, but we lost." There was a branch library about three
blocks away which was honored more as a place for the gang to mingle
than a seat of learning.

    "Thanks for bringing it by." I placed it on the table and picked
up my drink. I had thought my hands had steadied, but the ice was making
rapid tinkling noises in the glass. The girls giggled.

    Ashleigh got down to business. "Jenny said she would teach me how to
use your thing today if that's okay with you."

    "Sure. Don't see why not. Just tell me what you need me to do,
Jenny."

    "Great! Let's go back to your bedroom, OK?" and she started toward
the back. Ashleigh curtsied nicely and waved me ahead of her. We walked
to the lab.

    When we were all assembled, Jenny had a thought, "Hold on a sec..."
She trotted in to the bathroom and brought back a clean towel which she
spread on the floor. "We'll use this to catch it. Stand right there,
Larry." She pointed at one end of the towel. I complied. "Give me your
robe." I dropped it off and handed it to her. She looked down
doubtfully. "What's the matter? It's not as hard as it usually is. Are
you tired of us already?"

    "You don't need to worry about that, Jenny. It's just been a
rough day. It'll perk right up. You'll see." It had been rock hard until
that shaving kit had appeared; I still hadn't recovered completely.

    Jenny reached down and shook it gently up and down a couple of
times. "Yeah, it'll be okay. It's coming up right now." And it was. "OK,
Ash, stand right there on his right. That's good. You can put your left
arm around him to kind of balance." Ashleigh did as she was told.
"Comfy, you guys?" Ashleigh and I confirmed that we were comfy. "Now
then, take him in your right hand." Ash reached out and held me just as
she had the night before. Jenny took a step back and cocked her head to
one side. "No, not quite like that. Here. Let me show you." She adjusted
Ashleigh's fingers so that her thumb rested along the top and her
fingertips were lined up along my urethra. "There! I think that's a
little better. And you're getting nice and hard now, Larry." It was, and
I was. I thought Ashleigh looked just a bit irritated, but she didn't
say anything. "OK, Ash. Let's do it! Start moving your hand in and out,
not too fast. Hold nice and firm, but not too tight. That looks pretty
good. What do you think, Larry? Is that about right?"

    "Feels pretty good, Jenny. Very nice, Ashleigh." Ashleigh glanced up
and gave me a big smile, then went back to concentrating on her lesson.

    "It feels like it's starting to twitch a little. Does that mean
anything?"

    "Oh, yes! That's good! You can speed up a little now, not too
much, though. And be sure to keep your fingers kind of pressed in on the
bottom." Ashleigh complied, and I began to experience considerable
difficulty.

    I started swallowing hard, and choked out, "That's very nice,
Ash, very nice..."

    "You're doing great, Ash! Keep it up just like that!" Jenny was
becoming a cheering squad.

    "I can feel it starting to throb pretty strong now, it's really
jumping."

    Jenny was bending over, watching intently. "He's getting ready
to shoot his stuff, Ash! Hold him tight and keep up a good steady pace."

    I had my arm around Ashleigh's shoulders, and I began to squeeze
her tightly. I could hear my own moans softly creeping out. My hips
began to move back and forth involuntarily. "That's it, Ash!" Jenny was
really getting into it. "Pump him now! He's gonna do it! He's gonna do
it!!" And I did. Impressively. Ashleigh had been holding me at close to
an optimum angle for range, though whether she had calculated the
ballistics I couldn't say. In any case, my first shot landed at the
extreme edge of the towel. Ash pointed me more horizontal for the second
one, which cut down the distance considerably and it landed just past
the center of the towel. That was the last major spurt, and although
Ashleigh continued to pump, she was pumping a rapidly softening device,
and all that came from it was a slow trickle which ran down over her
fingers.

    Jenny watched somewhat disconsolately, and said mournfully, "I
think that was a lot more than I got. I know it shot out further. That
was a really good job, Ash. She did really well, didn't she, Larry?"

    "Yes, she did, Jenny. You're a damned good teacher." I hugged
Ashleigh tightly and kissed her on top of the head. "And you, Ashleigh,
are an excellent student." Jenny brightened noticeably, and Ashleigh had
been floating on air already.

    Jenny never stopped thinking. "Hey! You know what? We could have
a contest! It couldn't be just a one time thing, but over a lot of times
we could see who could get the most distance! What do you think? Would
it be better to keep track of total distance, or make each time like a
separate contest? Or both? We could do it on alternate days, and maybe
like this week Ash went first, and next week I could go first, so that
way it would kind of balance out whether we get him fresh or not." I
noticed that I was now in the third person. "Let's measure this one and
start with this. That's fair, because you got a really good distance
this time. I think we should only count the longest one each time,
because sometimes the first one is longest and sometimes it's not. What
do you think? Should we count how many times we can make him spurt, too?
That might be hard to do, because once it starts to finish up it doesn't
really spurt, it just kind of drips. Maybe we could count it as a spurt
if it goes more than some distance. How far would be good? What do you
think? A foot, maybe?" Eventually she stopped to breathe.

    Ashleigh enthusiastically responded, "That's a good idea! We
could work out the details as we go." She had been idly playing with my
cock ever since her successful shot, and gave it a playful little tug
for emphasis. "Can we do it, Larry? Is it ok with you?"

    By this time I had pretty well recovered. "It's okay with me in
principle at least. It sounds like it could be a lot of fun." Especially
for me, I thought. "But as competitive as you guys are, there may be
some practical problems." Both girls looked at me expectantly. "There is
likely going to be a lot of luck involved, for one thing. All kinds of
things can affect it, really. I could be tired, or distracted. Some days
I'm just going to be more in the mood than others. We might have to work
out some kind of handicapping system if it looks like the luck is too
one-sided. But I'm willing to give it a try if you are." Never let it be
said that I wasn't willing to sacrifice myself for the common good.

    The girls began clapping and cheering. "Great!" Jenny exclaimed
happily. "We'll work out all the details. Don't worry about a thing;
we'll handle it."

    Ashleigh came in without missing a beat, "Of course we'll handle
it. That's what we're talking about, isn't it?"

    There might have been the faintest tint of pink on Jenny's face,
but she was still quick on the pickup, "Yes, but it's all in how
skillfully and productively we handle it that matters, you know."

    "Absolutely. We'll have to learn to project, and to extend our
range."

    "We'll have to keep our options fluid."

    "We'll have to work our fingers to the bone." Nice one, Ash.

    Jenny had no immediate answer. Ashleigh continued: "Extend our
horizons. Stretch our assets. Go with the flow." Not great lines, but
not bad under pressure; looked to me like game, set, and match.

    Jenny said flatly, "Yeah. I think that about covers it."

    Ash pressed her advantage. "Oh, let's not cover it! It's kinda
cute!"

    I couldn't resist. "All depends on what you cover it with." I
said dryly.

    Jenny screamed with laughter. And hugged Ashleigh.

    I complained, "What about me? Don't I get a hug? I realize I'm
just a bystander here, but a rather important one." Jenny laughed, threw
her arms around me, and squeezed me tightly. Then we all joined in one
big hug.

    "Ash, I think we have an important decision to make," Jenny offered
in a serious voice as we broke our clinch.  "If we're going to do this
right, I think we're going to have to stop coming over here every day.
We'll need time to think about our techniques and plan our approaches,
and psyche ourselves up to do our best. Personally, I'll feel deprived
if I don't get my daily Larry fix, but I think we're going to have to
make some sacrifices."

    Ashleigh looked thoughtful. "I'm not so sure, Jenny. I don't
know whether I can cut down just like that.  Maybe we could just kind of
taper off a little bit. Maybe skip one day every couple of weeks to
start." They were off again.

    "No, Ashleigh. We'll have to do it. We have no choice. We must
strengthen our resolve, and prepare to sacrifice ourselves for the
greater goal!"

    Ash buried her face in her hands and began to moan loudly if not
convincingly. "Why! Why! Oh, why must we endure so much!?"

    Jenny straightened her back and deepened her voice. "Ashleigh,
we have to cut back to twice a week!"

    "Oh, my god!! No! No! I can't do it!", Ashleigh cried pitifully.

    "We must. When the going gets tough the tough get going." Jenny
was about to persuade even me.

    She certainly stiffened Ashleigh's resolve. Ash seemed to rise
to a greater height as she declaimed, "Yes! We must! For God and
Country! And the American Flag!"

    "Apple Pie! We the People! The Mall!" Jenny was trying, but it
looked like she was running out of steam.

    Ashleigh thrust her right foot forward, bent her knee slightly,
extended her right arm high above her head and declaimed in her most
dramatic voice, "Lay on, Macduff, And damn'd be him that first cries,
'Hold, enough!'"

    Jenny froze. We formed a silent tableau for a few seconds, then
Jenny said. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? I mean Lady Macbeth
I could understand, 'Out damned spot!' and all that, but 'Lay on,
Macduff'?"

    Ashleigh tried unsuccessfully to look abashed. "I don't know. I
just got carried away. The high drama just got to me, and that was all I
could think of." She couldn't suppress her grin.

    Jenny gave up. "Sheesh. Anyway, Larry, we'll be back on Wednesday
and I'll take my shot. Think sexy thoughts until then, okay? And save it
up for me. I need a big buildup from you." In all the drama, I had
softened considerably, and Jenny reached down and bounced my balls
lightly as though trying to weigh them. Both girls kissed me on the
cheek, and they were out the door. But not before I gave them my
considered opinion that were both eating way too much sugar.

    So I had almost forty-eight hours before they were going to show
up again. I know I must have done something to occupy my time before
Jenny showed up at my door that first time, but I couldn't remember now
what it was. I stood as if in a trance for a moment, and then I laughed
out loud. Without thinking about it, I had been complying with Jenny's
request to think sexy thoughts, but what I had been thinking about was
her mother's gorgeous, tanned, powerful legs pedaling that bike on
Sunday, and the way her hips stretched her shorts tight as she pedaled,
and the whole luscious view.

    I grabbed that book that I hadn't exactly made a good start on
before, and decided to try it again. I wound up turning a lot of pages,
but visions of Helen kept drawing my thoughts elsewhere. Finally I just
gave up and went to bed.

    Tuesday and Wednesday at the office were much like Monday. I was
still in my groove, and piles of work were evaporating. By Wednesday
afternoon though, I could feel the edge starting to dull just a bit, and
I was ready to call it a day by five.

    I was frankly a little curious as to exactly what the girls
would have planned for this evening, and while I can't say that I was
unusually anxious to get home, I wasted no time. It was almost six
before the knock came. I threw on my robe, opened the door, and the two
of them dashed in. Ashleigh was carrying a long cardboard tube like the
one posters are shipped in, and said on her way through the door, "Hi,
Larry! We're all ready. We've got some new equipment we brought."

    "What about uniforms? Aren't you going to have uniforms? And a
band and a cheering section?" I thought that I might have sounded just a
little more bitterly sarcastic than I had intended, but if they noticed
they didn't show it. If it was possible to take the fun out of getting
jacked off by a couple of beautiful young girls, they were well on their
way to doing it.

    "Come on, Larry. Lose the robe and let's get started. I'm champing
at the bit," Jenny was walking toward the back as she spoke. I followed
with Ashleigh at my side. When we walked in, Jenny turned to Ash and
said, "Ashleigh, do the honors!"

    With a flourish and a hearty "Ta da!", Ashleigh pulled a roll
from  the tube and spread it on the floor. It was a soft white vinyl
sheet about three by five feet. In the center of the nearest short edge
was a solid dark green semicircle with about a twelve-inch radius.
Surrounding it were arcs in a regular pattern of colors with black arcs
spaced about one inch apart, red arcs replacing the black at the twelve
inch marks, and blue arcs at the three, six,  and nine inch marks. I had
a pretty good guess that we weren't going to have to estimate range
anymore.

    "Neat, huh?" Jenny asked. "Ashleigh designed it and did all the
work herself. What do you think?" I didn't trust myself to answer, so I
didn't; I just stood staring in awe.

    "Stand right there," Ashleigh directed me, placing me with my
toes on the vinyl and the green ground zero centered right below my
balls.

    "Wait a minute, guys," Jenny said and ran to the bathroom, returning
with a towel which she spread over the vinyl target. "Let's place
Ashleigh's shot from Monday before we start." The girls started
eyeballing the towel, with Jenny on her hands and knees moving her  
finger around until they agreed on the spot they remembered.
Interestingly, Jenny seemed to offer more distance, while Ashleigh
seemed to be willing to take less. Once they had the spot, Jenny shoved
a blue pushpin through the towel and into the vinyl to mark it. They
picked up the towel, located the pin hole and identified it with
Monday's date, the initial "A", and the number "2", written in     
indelible marker.

    I asked before I thought, "What's the 'two' for?" I knew the answer
as soon as I asked.

    "That's because Ashleigh had two spurts outside the starting
circle," Jenny explained.  "You ready to go? All loaded up and primed
for me to set new records?" She suddenly looked doubtful, and asked with
concern (though for whom I wasn't sure) in her voice, "You OK, Larry?"

    If I was, it was pretty well hidden. For the second time this week  
                             I was only semi-hard in circumstances which
made it remarkable, and this time I was bordering on limp. I wasn't sure
what to say, and while I was considering it, Ashleigh nailed it down.
"Jenny, I think we might be pushing just a little bit. Everybody take a
deep breath...okay, now!"

    That did it. I couldn't resist; I grinned and, while leering at
first one of them and then the other,  suggested that a couple more deep
breaths from them might fix things very nicely, and as if on cue, began
to stiffen nicely. The girls giggled and Jenny reached out and patted my
cock,  gently cooing to it, "That's a nice boy, come on now, wake up,
you can do it." I took my position at the firing line. She moved around
to the traditional position on my right and began to stroke slowly and
very lightly.

    "That's a nice touch, Jenny..." I felt obligated to give credit
where it was due, and besides I had an interest in honing their
techniques. She gave me a little hug and smiled up at me, continuing
without missing a stroke.

    "I think I'm getting something," Jenny announced quietly. Which
coincided with what I was thinking. She tightened up a bit, and began to
accelerate her strokes. She really did have a nice feel for this; a good
natural talent. Unfortunately, she wasn't going to get the results she
deserved.  I delivered a feeble shot that barely cleared the inner
green. She tightened down hard, and began to pump  furiously, but to no
avail.  There were a few more pitiful trickles, but all but one landed
in the no-score area. She looked up at me in anguish, pleading with her
eyes, "Larry, what am I doing wrong? That isn't even as good as I did
last time."

    I sighed, "Jenny, I'm afraid you're just running into some bad
luck. That felt really good, really. The best either of you have done so
far. If I could control it I would have given you the record, but
there's really not much I could do about it.  I told you there would be
a lot of luck involved." Not surprisingly, that didn't improve her mood
by much.

    Ashleigh provided more practical advice. "Listen, Jenny. I really
think we might have come on just a little bit strong today. Next Monday
we'll take it easy, relax, and try and get everybody in the mood. You'll
get him to shoot right off the end, you'll see." I was diplomatically
quiet, but I gave silent thanks for Ashleigh's astuteness.

    "Maybe you're right, Ash. Anyway, I'm not giving up yet." She paused
for a second. "But next week let's go Tuesday and Thursday."

    Ashleigh looked around at me, "That okay with you, Larry? Will
you be free Tuesday and Thursday?"

    "Well... Maybe not free, but very reasonable."

    Jenny gave me a "Boo! Hiss!", and Ashleigh poked me in the ribs.
Hard.

    "Okay, then. Next round begins promptly after you get home from
work next Tuesday. Agreed?" Jenny waited for our responses, and Ashleigh
and I answered "Agreed" in unison.

    We all wandered back toward the door, and I pulled my robe on to
open it and said, "I guess I'll see you guys on Tuesday, then."

    First Ashleigh and then Jenny gave me a quick little kiss, and
Jenny said that she wouldn't be at all surprised if we didn't see each
other before then. They gave a quick look around, and darted out the
door without looking back.

    Somehow this wasn't as much fun as it had been.

    I picked up my book again, but without noticeably better results
than before.

    Thursday was just another day. My work earlier in the week had
put me well ahead of where I (or anyone else) expected me to be, but I
took work home with me anyway just to give me something to keep me busy
without thinking of other things. It worked. I was by no means flying
through the work, but it was just enough to keep my attention. It was
almost nine when the phone rang.

    I answered on the third ring with a rather listless "Hello".

    "Mr. Palmer," It was Helen. "This is Helen Jenkins from around
the corner. I seem to have unexpectedly come into a pair of tickets for
a ball game tomorrow night, and I wonder if you would care to go with
me. I thought it might give us a chance to get a little better
acquainted."

    What the hell? She had caught me by surprise, and I stood there
for a few seconds for some reason trying frantically to remember the
words from that first call I had made to her.  "Why, yes," I said
finally, "I would like that." Another pause. "Thanks."

    "Shall I pick you up at six, or is that too early?" I was finally
starting to put the pieces together. The only "ball game" I could think
of was a double-A baseball team that played about forty miles away from
us. The game probably started at seven or seven-thirty,   so it made
sense to start around six.

    "Six is fine." I didn't know whether I should say "Helen", or
"Mrs. Jenkins", so I didn't say either.

    "Wonderful!" she said, "I'll pick you up at six tomorrow evening,
then."

    "I'll be looking forward to it, Helen. See you then." I was pretty
sure of that line, at least. We hung up.

    What the hell? Now just what the hell? If I was ever in doubt before
about being out of my depth, the doubt was gone now, but I didn't care.
I would wing it, and take the consequences.



Subject: Jenny (Mf+ teen play) Chap 7
From: Krieg Lite <critic@anon.nymserver.com>
Date: 4 Jul 1997 19:15:17 GMT
--------

As found in the noodle box...

Chapter Seven
Second Date

    Friday was a total loss. By nine-thirty I had completely given
up getting any meaningful work done, and had fallen back to doing the
dull paperwork that I usually avoided until Artie had threatened bodily
harm. It was not an unknown phenomenon, but usually one associated with
a dire hangover. All day long I could see the knowing grins, and had to
put up with a constant barrage of "see ya got the forms out, Larry" from
everyone who passed by.  By noon I was ready to call it a day, but I
didn't want to go home and sit around waiting for six o'clock, either. I
stuck with my drudgery as long as I could, then called it a day at three
o'clock and headed for my car.

    I had no intention of going home, but didn't really have anyplace I
wanted to go either, so I just started driving aimlessly. Somehow I
found myself at The Oaks and even though I couldn't get in, decided I
had time to drive around the perimeter and see if there was more than
the one entrance I knew about, and just to see if there were any houses
visible from outside the complex. I found that the answer was no to both
questions, and made it home just a couple of minutes after five. After a
slow shower, I put together a classical semi-formal late fall minor
league baseball viewing ensemble, got dressed and waited for Helen.

    At a minute before six there was a firm knock on the door.  I
glanced at my robe hanging by the door, grabbed it, pitched it in the
bathroom and opened the door. Helen was in cutoff denims, a brown
longsleeved work shirt, and a substantial windbreaker; her eyes twinkled
as she said, "Good evening, Mr. Palmer. I hope I'm not too early."

    "Not at all, Mrs. Jenkins," I assured her, "Won't you come in?"

    She stepped through the door, stretched up to give me a peck on
the cheek, and said, "So that's it!" I followed her gaze to my bar.
There was a small island separating my living room from the kitchen, and
I had built it into a rather respectable repository of an impressive
variety of booze forms. "Jenny said that you had a way cool bar, and
told me to check it out.  She has a good eye, that daughter of mine."

    "Everyone should have a hobby, I feel," I said modestly.

    "But not every hobby has such wonderful compensations. You're to
be congratulated.  Ready to go?"

    I admitted it, and we walked out to her car which she had moved
from her driveway to a visitor's slot in front of my apartment. She
opened the door for me. I told her thank you and got in, buckling up as
she closed the door. She got behind the wheel, and as she turned the key
asked, "You ever see these guys play?"

    "The Birds, you mean?"

    "Yes. Or any double-A team, for that matter."

    "No. Not really. I watch baseball on television now and then,
and I may get to a game a time or two a year, but that's about it."

    "I think you'll enjoy this. It's a completely different
atmosphere."

    There was light conversation during the drive to the game, but
no more about sports, or about music, or about table games. We hit the
parking lot about fifteen minutes before game time and were in our seats
down the first base line and right behind the visiting dugout a couple
of minutes later. Helen told me to sit tight, and came back with a
couple of beers, hot dogs, and peanuts just before the first pitch.
"Baseball is baseball, and has its own requirements no matter the
venue," she declared as she sat beside me.

    Helen had been right. It was fun, and would have been fun even
if she hadn't been beside me. The players were all young and hopeful,
and determined to play their way into the big leagues. Helen pointed out
a couple of players on each team who were considered sure things for the
majors. They were good, all right, but I couldn't tell a great deal of
difference between the players she mentioned and the others.  The
evening air was cool, and I asked Helen if her legs weren't cold. She
thought for a moment and said, "No. I don't think so. At least not to
me. See what you think." I put my hand on her knee and considered for
perhaps longer than absolutely necessary before conceding that she was
right.

    The game was actually pretty well played, and the score was one
all in the top of the third inning. With one out, a sharp liner to right
put a runner on first, one of the players Helen had mentioned. The
pitcher was paying a lot of attention to the base-runner, throwing over
several times and once making a close play of it. The count was two and
one, and Helen looked over at me and said, "Bet you a beer there's a
pitch out." I certainly wasn't a baseball expert, but I couldn't see
going to three balls on the batter deliberately, so I told her she was
on. The runner took a long lead, and they pitched out. The runner was on
the move as the pitcher went home, and despite the pitchout made second
on a headfirst slide.  I motioned to a vendor and paid up. Despite the
heroics on the base paths, at the end of the inning the runner was
stranded at second.

    Going into the bottom of the sixth inning, the bad guys were leading
three to two with the top of the order coming up. The leadoff man
surprised everybody and laid down a drag bunt for a single. Now it was
the other guy's turn to spend a lot of time throwing to first. The first
pitch home was high and tight to the right-handed batter. Without
turning her head, Helen said, "A beer says there's a hit-and-run." I
looked at her curiously, and took her bet. Actually, a hit-and-run
wouldn't be a great surprise this time, but I waited to see what would
happen. Hit-and-run. Runners at the corners. I called to a vendor, then
turned to Helen. "Helen, dearest."

    "Yes, Larry darling?" she said without turning her head.

    "I do believe you're stealing signs."

    She gave me an evil grin, and said "Sure is good beer."

    The good guys wound up losing, but none of the spectators seemed
to feel that detracted from the game. As we walked back to the car I
thought to myself that next season I might find myself up here again. It
had been fun. The atmosphere had been closer to a county fair than big
business.  On the drive home, most of the conversation was about the
game, and the game in general. Neither of us mentioned signs, or the
theft thereof. When we got back, Helen pulled into her driveway and
asked if I would like to come in and keep her company until Jenny got
home. I said that seemed to me to be an excellent idea.

    She unlocked the door, turned on the lights, and invited me to
have a seat on the sofa, then turned and asked, "Larry, could I get you
something to drink while I get comfortable? Coffee? Or perhaps a glass
of wine?" Bells went off. I waited a couple of seconds to see if there
would be a continuation, but there wasn't.

    I hesitated a second longer before asking, "Did I notice something
there? An ellipsis, perhaps?"

    "The sound of one hand clapping? The dog that didn't bark?" She
gave me an innocent look, and then continued off-handedly, "Who knows
what evil lurks . . . " and let it trail off as she walked out of the
room. It occurred to me that I had never placed my order, but I figured
I could trust her to make a suitable selection.

    She was back within a couple of minutes with two glasses of
white wine. "Now then, make yourself at home while I get comfortable."
With that, she peeled off her windbreaker and pitched it in the corner,
then curled up next to me and continued, "Now I'm comfortable."

    I tilted her chin up and kissed her. I glanced at the clock. Ten
till twelve. A sudden mild worry hit me. "What time was Jenny supposed
to be home?" I asked.

    "I believe she said she would be home around one or two tomorrow
afternoon. She's spending the night at one of her friends." She put her
hand behind my head, ran her fingers through my hair, and let her lips
languidly brush mine.

    "Oh," I mumbled. "At Ashleigh's?" I put my arms around her, pulled
her close and kissed her with intent.

    "No. But Ashleigh's there, too." She put her hand inside my
shirt and pulled my tee shirt out of my pants, then put her hand on my
chest and began lightly running her nails along my skin.

    I figured that sauce for the goose, et cetera, and slid my hand
inside her shirt. Funny I hadn't noticed it before. She was as braless
as the first time I saw her through Jenny's window. She nibbled my ear
lobe and slid her hand around to my back, pulling me to her. I let my
hand move up across a remarkably firm breast to rest on a small but very
erect nipple.

    "Would you like to see my etchings?" She asked.

    "I've always been fascinated by the art of printing," I replied.
She took me by the hand and led me to the stairs. I put my arm around
her waist as we climbed to the top and she turned down away from Jenny's
room and the room where I had stayed. At the end of the hall she opened
a door and gestured me into her bedroom. I'm not sure what I was
expecting, but this wasn't it. The room was totally without character;
it looked more like a guest room than the one I had slept in. The only
decoration was an expensive looking framed print on the far wall.

    "Voila!" she exclaimed, sweeping her arm toward the print. "I'm
afraid I've brought you here under false pretenses. I only have the one
etching." There was something about it that drew me closer. A small
brass plaque was attached to the frame.

    The blood rushed to my head more than it already had. I turned
to Helen and asked, "Is that really . . .  Is that a real Chagall?"

    She gave me an impish grin and replied, "I hope so. The insurance
company thinks so. Have I ever mentioned that I'm the acquisitive type?"
She watched my face with amusement, then said, "Come on, I'll show you
where I live." She opened what I had thought was a closet door and
started up another flight of stairs. I followed.

    As we climbed to the next level, the lights above grew gradually
brighter until a dim glow surrounded us. I hadn't seen her touch a
switch, so they must have been on some kind of sensor. She waited for me
at the top. It looked like the entire floor had been opened up into a
single large room. Directly in front of me, along one of the narrow ends
of the room were a baby grand, a NordicTrack, and a Stairmaster. Off to
the left was a large trestle table with a high end PowerMac and some
expensive looking boxes alongside it. There was a VCR and a large
television on a stand next to the table and turned toward it, and
another stand on the other side with what looked like an audio keyboard.
The floor was hardwood in places, tile in others, and carpets in a
seeming random pattern covering more than half of it. The walls had
heavy curtains hung at irregular intervals, and the far end of the room
away from the piano had panels that appeared to be movable set at odd
angles away from the walls. The whole place was an acoustic lab. There
was a quiet sound of running water that reminded me of our trip to the
mountains, and there was the nearly inaudible sound of a light breeze
through leaves, and just above all of that the sound of a string quartet
coming from a distance. As my eyes grew accustomed to the light I saw a
very low bed at the far end of the room and on the other side what could
have been called a bathroom, except that it wasn't a room. I couldn't
see the speakers.  Helen just stood there, letting me take it all in. A
rich tenor suddenly broke the spell saying, "You have mail, M'Lady."

    Helen laughed and said, "Alphonse, shut up." Then turned to me
and said, "Sorry about that. Forgot to turn him off before I left." She
paused a moment, then went on. "I always wanted to live in a loft when I
was young and romantic.  This isn't really high enough or big enough to
be a loft, but it suits me pretty well. Excuse me while I show off.
Alphonse, Beethoven late and surf." The sound faded away, and then I
could hear surf pounding quite nearby, and a string quartet completely
different in character grew louder. "Alphonse, lights forty-seven." A
vaguely kaleidoscopic pattern of lights flashed across the ceiling.
Helen took my hand and led me to her bed, dropping her shorts as we
walked. When we reached the bed, she shrugged off her shirt, then took
mine off and began unbuckling my pants. I pulled my tee shirt over my
head and stepped out of my pants. We stood there for a moment, she in
pale blue bikini panties, and I in my briefs. I took her in my arms and
felt her nipples burn holes in my skin as I held her close to me and
kissed her. We sank together to the bed.

    For at least two hours we made love very slowly. There was no
penetration, we just explored each other with great deliberation. We
each tried all our tricks to bring the other to irresistible arousal,
and we both succeeded. I think, to be honest, Helen more than I. That
woman made every inch of my body an erogenous zone. She had my nerve
endings pounding louder than the sounds of surf washing over us. I used
my tongue to good effect, but she used hers even better. Finally I could
wait no longer, and slid slowly into her. She clamped down hard on me,
and we began to thrust against each other. I had thought I had driven
into her as far as I could go, but with each stroke she drew me in
further. We drove in perfect sync until I shot stream after stream into
her. She held me close, not letting me withdraw. When I was finally
drained she rolled us over, wrapped her arms tight around me, and fell
sound asleep holding me inside her. I fell asleep soon after.

    During the next few hours, one or the other of us would wake up,
and we would go again, but still the slow, deliberate lovemaking that we
had begun the night before. Then the light grew brighter. It wasn't the
real dawn, but the artificial dawn in Helen's loft. The string quartet
was gone, but the sound of the surf remained, now accompanied by the
sound of sea birds. Helen and I came awake together, and began our
lovemaking again. This time it was anything but slow and deliberate.
Helen was a wild animal, and she made me the same. We shouted, screamed,
scratched and clawed, and made glorious, magnificent, mind-bending love.
The bed could not hold us, and we ranged across the floor, pursuing each
other on hands and knees, until finally we collapsed, spent, in a sweaty
pile. We slept again, holding each other tightly.

    Time had not existed for us since we had climbed the stairs to
Helen's loft, but it had been passing in the other world. Helen nudged
me awake a little after one, and pointed to the clock with a grin. "Good
morning, Mr. Palmer."

    I came awake with a start, "I'm sorry, Helen! I'll be out of here in
a second!"

    She put her hand on my chest and shoved me back down. "Oh, no.
You have to wait for Jenny. And then you can go home for a little while,
but you have to come back tonight and stay with me while Jenny is home.
We don't want to have any secrets, do we?"

    My mind wasn't functioning at its peak, I admit, but Helen would
probably have convinced me even if it was. I wasn't thinking of Jenny. I
was thinking of that beautifully firm body that Helen had given me, and
all of its delicious juices. So I said, "OK, sure."

    "Your stuff is all over here," Helen told me, and led me to the
roomless bathroom. She had in fact stocked up all my brands, but when I
looked in the mirror I was ready to chicken out and head for home. I had
a row of hickeys all up the side of my neck and vicious looking
scratches covering my chest. Helen saw my reaction and chortled, "The
facts of life, Larry, the facts of life. You can't hide 'em."

    Helen wanted to help me lather for my shave, so I let her. When
I finished shaving, we showered together. I had now showered with all of
the principals in this little adventure, all in a different fashion.
While we were in the shower, that baritone voice announced "Someone has
entered." Helen rubbed down my chest as she spoke to no one visible,
"We'll be down in just a minute, Jenny."

    When we climbed out of the shower, Helen handed me my Turkish
robe and said with a grin, "OK, hero, it's time to go greet our admiring
public." I looked around for my clothes, but decided that wasn't part of
the program, and besides, the robe was more than enough. We walked down
the stairs, out of the "bedroom", and down to the first floor where
Jenny was waiting.

    "Hi, Mr. Palmer!" she said brightly. "How was the game?"

    Trying vainly to maintain my composure, I responded "It was a lot of
fun. First time I've been to a minor league game, but it won't be the
last."

    Jenny grinned and asked, "How much did she take you for?"

    I must have looked confused, because she went on, "I think I
lost about three weeks allowance before I learned not to bet with her."

    "Oh!" I said, "it only cost me a couple of beers."

    Jenny grinned. "That's all it cost you at the ballpark.  Looks
like it cost you some blood back here."

    I know that my blush must have been visible from orbit, but I
couldn't help it. I stammered around trying to think of a response, and
hoping that Helen would come to my rescue, but she just laughed, and
laughed, and laughed.

    Finally Jenny went on, "That's okay, Mr. Palmer, some things are
worth what they cost, right?"

    Before I realized what she had said, I agreed with her, and she
and her mother both roared with laughter. Finally Helen told her
daughter, "Jenny, please don't tease Mr. Palmer." And I breathed a sigh
of relief. Then Helen went on, "I need him." I choked. Helen amended her
statement. "We need him." I died.

    Helen had promised me that I could go home as long as I came
back, so I did. I really don't know why, other than to pick up some
clean clothes. After sitting staring at the walls for an hour I went
back to the house around the corner. It felt very strange walking in the
door that Jenny opened, knowing that she knew that I would be sleeping
with her mother that night. Or more than likely, not sleeping a whole
lot. But it was okay. Everything was okay.

    I don't know whether it was all Helen or not, but my sleeping
with her became routine as far as Jenny was concerned. The strange thing
to me was that she and Ashleigh kept up their Tuesday-Thursday routine.
Again I don't know, but I'm pretty sure that Jenny didn't tell Ashleigh
what was going on with her mother. One of the things that was most
amazing to me was after that first weekend with Helen, Jenny came in on
Tuesday and despite her previous poor showings had a magnificent shot.
The way they measured it, it was longer than Ashleigh's best, and she
also had four shots outside the inner circle. (Okay.  Two of them
weren't more than a couple of inches outside the circle, but that
counts.)

    After that, we sank into a routine.  On Tuesdays and Thursdays
the girls would come over to my place and conduct their competition, or
occasionally just experiment and play. On weekends, I would wind up over
at Helen's doing marvelously nasty things with her. Now and then I would
get a chance to watch her at work when the muse would strike. She could 
play the entire room like an instrument and put together mind-blowing
multimedia packages seemingly from thin air. The routine was
indisputably a lot of fun. Jenny and Ashleigh really took their
competition seriously, even if they did show good sportsmanship, and
Helen was always magnificent no matter what. Life was good.

    All went well for several weeks. When Thanksgiving rolled around, we
had to adjust schedules a bit, which meant I got a bit more of Helen,
and a bit less of Jenny (it was her week for Thursday), but life was
still good. Then on Friday the second week after Thanksgiving, when I
went over to Helen's she greeted me with a very serious look. "Larry, I
need to talk to you," she said. "Sit down." So I did. "Trust my
judgment?" I assured her that I did.

    "Christmas is coming up soon." I admitted it. "I've been talking
to Jenny about what she wants for Christmas." I nodded understandingly.
"There's really only one big thing she wants." I nodded understandingly.
"You." I froze.

    I sat there for a few seconds, tried unsuccessfully to say
something, then finally croaked, "I don't understand."

    "Well," she said, "I don't mean that she wants you body and soul. 
Just body." And she grinned.  After a very painful pause, she went on.
"Actually, she isn't even asking for carnal knowledge. She just asked
for a chance to explore a little. Originally, at least, though her
position changed somewhat during the course of negotiations. I told her
I would do what I could." She waited expectantly. I, stunned, said
nothing.

    "Now, what I think is that after you give her that chance to explore
a little that she's asking for, you might exercise that talented tongue
of yours to give her a real, male-induced orgasm." She looked at me as
my jaw dropped, then went on. "I will guarantee that she will be able to
produce both manually and orally a completely satisfactory orgasm for
you." She paused.  "I will teach her, and make sure that she gets it
right. If things work out well, and they should, I plan to let her
borrow you perhaps once every two or three weeks and maybe on special
occasions." She paused again, watching me closely, waiting for a
reaction. Finally she prompted, "Can you deal with that?"

    My mind raced, but in steadily tighter circles, going nowhere.
After all I had experienced over the past few months I should have been
able to cope better than I did. At last I forced out, "If that's what
you want, I can do it, but are you sure?"

    "Certainly. I don't think you'll have any problem. You might need to
come over a little more often through the week, but we can work out our
schedules around yours. I don't plan on giving up any of your time
myself, you know."

    I was still stammering. "But Helen, do you think Jenny is ready
for something like that?"

    "She made a solid case. She had to before I would agree to it.
She knows what she's doing. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at
what she'll be able to do. Especially with some good coaching from me."

    "It's just that . . .  Well, it's kind of unexpected. I don't
mind, of course. I mean really it's . . .  She's . . . very attractive.
But what about . . . I . . . this will sound wrong, I know, but what
about you? And her? Don't you think this might cause trouble?"

    She laughed, "Larry, if I can't handle competition from a fourteen
year old girl I need more practice. And Jenny knows the rules. Believe
me, we won't have any problems."

    "Well.  If you're sure. It sounds like you've already got everything
worked out. OK. I'll go along with it."

    "Thanks, Larry. I knew I could count on you." She gave me a little
peck on the cheek. "Come on, let's get you in training." She led me up
the stairs to begin whipping me into shape.



Subject: Jenny (Mf+ teen play) Chap 8
From: Krieg Lite <critic@anon.nymserver.com>
Date: 5 Jul 1997 15:20:25 GMT
--------

As found in the noodle box...

Chapter Eight
Christmas Present

    As Christmas Eve approached, I began to suffer pangs of grave doubt.
I had again slipped into a very precarious situation, and as usual I
could think of all sorts of bad things happening. Why had Jenny done
this? Why was Helen taking it so well? What Jenny was going to see when
she opened her present wasn't exactly going to be a surprise; would she
be a good enough actress to make it one? Would it make any difference?
Another thing was that I didn't know whether Helen had told Jenny she
was going to get her wish, so I kept watching Jenny for signs when she
came over with Ashleigh. If she knew, I couldn't tell. I badly wanted to
talk to her about it, but of course I couldn't. The stress would have
affected my performance, but since the girls were getting more skillful
each week, any degradation was masked. I had almost reached the point of
calling Helen and telling her I was going to back out, but I just didn't
have it in me.

    When the day arrived, I was at Helen's before six for a family
Christmas Eve dinner. By nine o'clock, Jenny announced that she was
going to her room to get ready for bed, so Helen and I went upstairs as
well. Helen spent the night arousing me to the point of pain, but never
brought me to release.  She made no secret of her intent to get me
thoroughly primed for Jenny, but she was also enjoying the hell out of
my discomfort. As the night went on, she parceled out bits and pieces of
the plan for Christmas morning, and my instructions. By morning, I was a
nervous wreck. Helen had made me shower at three in the morning, in fact
had scrubbed me down herself, because she didn't want me freshly
showered for Jenny. At seven, Helen handed me a package--not a Christmas
package, just a shopping bag from a men's store. "Here," she explained,
"Jenny bought these. They're not a Christmas present, because they're
really for her, not you. It's just what she wants you to wear."

    In the bag was a pair of beige silk pajamas, and a dark forest
green dressing gown. I pulled them out of the bag, and looked at Helen
questioningly. She disavowed any role in their selection, and refused
any comment on them. But when I had wrapped myself in them, she backed
away and looked me over from head to toe, then gave her assessment.
"Actually, that's not bad at all. I may have to start dressing you up
myself." Then she giggled like a school girl, pulled me down and gave me
a quick kiss, then slapped me on the butt and announced, "Show time." We
started the trek to Jenny's room. Through some weird temporal-spatial
effect, the walk seemed to be of infinite distance, yet seemed to be
completed in an infinitesimal time.

    Helen stood me in the middle of the hallway in front of Jenny's
door, made last minute adjustments to my gown, then turned and knocked
on the door. Jenny's voice came from inside, "It's open, come in."

    Helen opened the door wide, putting me on display, and said, "Merry
Christmas, Honey!"

    Jenny gave a squeal of delight, then ran to her mother, gave her
a huge hug, and screamed, "Oh, Mom!  It's just what I wanted!"
Considering that she had bought the wrapping herself, her reaction
seemed a little overdone, but I had other things on my mind. She was
wearing a short very sheer powder blue nightgown that covered her about
like a light morning haze. Her breasts were very plainly visible, but
she was wearing a pair of tiny bikini briefs. While they appeared almost
as transparent as her gown, the combination covered her well.

    A beaming Helen announced that she would leave us alone while
Jenny "unwrapped her present" since she had already seen it. With that,
she put my hand in Jenny's and turned and walked away. Jenny led me into
her room and closed the door. I had seen this room many times from my
window, but it was now both familiar and strange. My heart was pounding
and my knees were weak. I wanted to sit down, but the only place within
reach was Jenny's bed, and I didn't want to be there any earlier than I
had to. Jenny grinned up at me, aware of my situation, and said calmly,
"Relax, Larry. This is a safe zone. Mom can't hear anything that goes on
here, and she wouldn't even if she could. We've got lots of time, so
just relax. I need you relaxed, you know."

    "Jenny, why?" I asked.  "This is nothing new for you, why bring
it into the open?"

    "To bring it into the open, of course. And besides, this way we
can do more things. Mom has given me a few hints and told me what you
like, and I couldn't get that from her without this, could I?"

    "I suppose so, but this still seems awfully damned dangerous to
me."

    "Don't be silly. This isn't dangerous. Sneaking around like Ash
and I do might be dangerous, but this isn't. Now then. Come here and let
me undress you." She paused, then continued, "God I love the sound of
that here in my bedroom!" I walked to her. She slowly pulled open the
belt of the dressing gown, then pulled it from my shoulders, took it to
her closet and hung it carefully on a hangar. "Remind me to move that
later; wouldn't want to give Ashleigh ideas, would we?" She was
certainly enjoying all of this, and I wished that I could, too. She came
back, very slowly unbuttoned my pajama top, then slipped it from my
shoulders. She folded it carefully and placed it in a drawer on top of
some of her own lingerie. The same pattern was followed with my pajama
pants, and I was standing naked before her.

    "Ah, Larry," she sighed, "It may be hard for you to believe, but
it's like I'm seeing you for the first time." She smoothed the sheets on
her bed, took my hand and led me to it, then said in a husky voice, "Lie
with me here." We climbed onto the bed and lay facing each other on the
sheets. She gave me an impish grin and announced, "Now I have you where
I want you." She moved to me and began to cover my face with kisses. Her
hands roamed sensually across my body, never ranging below my waist, but
having a definite effect.

    She pulled back for a second to shed that diaphanous gown, then
crawled back on top of me. Her body was burning, and she was covering me
with it. Her breasts moved across me, the nipples leaving trails of
blazing sensation on my skin. Her legs now covered mine, writhing
against me. Her hands floated feverishly around me, marking places for
her to plant her lips. I was being drawn deeper and deeper into a state
of pure arousal. She began to work her way down along my body, with her
kisses now covering my chest and punctuated with tiny little bites of my
nipples. This was way, way beyond any point I had expected to reach with
this young girl, and she was showing no signs of relenting. I suppose
now, when I can look back on it, that at least some of this was a result
of Helen's coaching, but my mind wasn't functioning well enough at the
time to see that. I felt emotion like fear, or panic, beginning to well
up; I couldn't understand what was happening to me. For some reason, all
my experience had vanished, leaving me as vulnerable as a child.

    Her lips searched ever lower, very slowly moving down across my
belly. Now she had to move my cock aside to kiss and lick across its
base. Now her hair flowed around it as she pressed her cheek against it
and gently lifted my balls to her lips. Her hand pressed my cock tight
to her face as she sucked first one of my balls, then the other, into
her mouth and measured them with her tongue. Now her fingers traced
spiderweb-light paths down the inside of my thigh, followed by her
nibbling lips and searching tongue. She very slowly worked her way down
the length of one leg, then back up the other. As her lips reached
farther up my thigh, her hair again began sweeping across my cock, then
again she fondled my balls as she slid my cock gently back and forth
across her cheek.  But then she entered new territory.

    As she cradled my balls gently in her soft fingers, her tongue
made quick, sharp little flicks across the underside of my cock,
starting at the base and working to the head, then back down again. She
repeated this some number of times, but I lost count at the third. I
know I could hear myself moaning, and I think quite loudly. Then
suddenly I felt her lips cover the head, and her tongue began to work
there, flicking and circling. Muscle spasms began to run the length of
my body like a standing wave.  She drew me deeper into her mouth, and
her tongue curled up and pressed just below the head, squeezing me
between itself and the roof of her mouth. I knew I was going to explode.
My moans had become gasping half-screams. Her fingers had been pressed
tightly around the base of my cock, and as she pulled it from her mouth,
sucking very strongly, they began to move slowly up and down the shaft.
I was on my back, but not flat because my body was arched up away from
the bed. The spasms became stronger and I felt the flow begin from deep,
deep inside me. I screamed, and felt something wet hit my face, trailing
across the top of my head, my forehead and my cheek.  Then there was
another wet mass that hit my chin and trailed across my chest. I
collapsed like a punctured balloon and lay limp, gasping for air.

    At some point, I realized that Jenny was gently stroking my hair. I
looked up at her and she was gazing down at me with a strangely beatific
smile. Her other hand was resting on my chest, and I reached up to take
it in mine. Our fingers intertwined, and we remained like that for what
seemed several minutes. Then Jenny began to move.

    She again covered my body with hers and began kissing my face,
this time licking the residue from it which had not been there before.
She continued with a reprise of her original theme, but with subtle
variations. This time, the sensation was completely different--pure
pleasure. There was no fear, no panic, only luxurious joy, heightened by
anticipation. I was able to simply lie back and enjoy the masterful
performance that Jenny was giving me.

    As she approached the coda, I was nearly in a trance. My body
was being washed with waves of pleasure, and my mind was just
floating--somewhere. When her lips covered my cock all of my senses
alerted, knowing what was coming.  Except they were wrong. Everything
was the same to the point where she pulled me from her mouth. This time
though, as soon as her lips closed over the tip of the head, she opened
her mouth and sucked me back in. I wasn't expecting that, and I wasn't
sure I could handle it. Her fingers started their slow stroking at the
base of the shaft, but the head and the top of the shaft were still in
her mouth getting the full treatment from her lips and tongue. The
pressure was building again, and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold it
long. Through tightly clenched teeth I called out her name, trying to
get her attention, but she continued about her business, ignoring me.
The situation was going critical very quickly, and I wasn't going to be
able to control it. As I felt the flow begin, I tried once more to call
out her name, but I don't know whether I succeeded or not.  All I know
is that she began sucking hungrily as her fingers pumped, and I emptied
myself into her mouth.

    She didn't release me, but kept me in her mouth, gently sucking,
licking, and chewing as I grew gradually somewhat softer.  With all
that, there was no chance of my softening completely, and in fact before
long I began to stiffen again. When Jenny realized what was happening,
she gave one last happy little suck and tongue flick and crawled up to
curl up in my arms with her head on my chest. We lay there like that for
several minutes, then Jenny stretched, kissed me, and said, "Thanks,
Larry. Really. I've been wanting to do that for months and months." She
grinned evilly, "Now I want to do it again. Sheesh.  You're worse than
Chinese food. But we can do this again, you know. That was part of the
deal. But now I've got to report to Mom. I think I still have you for
the rest of the day, though, so if you want to play around a little more
later we can. Stay right there and rest for now, if you want. I'll cover
you up before Mom comes in. Not that you're anything new for her,
anyway. I think I'm mad at myself for not trying to do this before. Just
think of all the time we've lost. Well, not exactly lost, I guess, but
we've missed out on this until now. Anyway, sit tight." She stood up,
walked to her dresser and took a small key from a jewelry case, then
inserted it in a picture frame on the wall, turned it, and spoke into
the picture. "Mom! We're ready!"

    A tinny voice, but recognizably Helen's, spoke from the picture,
"Give me a couple of minutes, and I'll be right there." Jenny turned the
key, removed it from the frame, and put it back in her box. Then she
came back and lay down beside me.

    "It's nice having an intercom that you can turn off when you
want to. You know, Larry, that first shot of yours today was a monster.
I don't know exactly how high it went, but it must have been close to a
couple of feet, and it landed up beyond your head. Well, anyway, the end
of it did." She grinned and licked my forehead. "If I could get one like
that on the range, I'll bet it would go over four feet. Maybe even off
the end. Now if I could just figure out a way to get you loaded up like
that with Ashleigh around . . . " She grinned again and gave me a
ravenous open mouth kiss that took my breath away. Then she reached down
and gave my cock a little twist. "Mom told me that since this was my
first time taking a guy in my mouth, I should let the first time go in
the air so there wouldn't be so much to try and swallow the next time,
so I did. I wasn't going to, I was going to use my mouth to do the first
one anyway because I know I could do it, but I didn't because I thought
I should do what Mom said. But now I'm glad I did. I could have
swallowed all of it the first time, I'm pretty sure, but if I had I
wouldn't have had a chance to see it. And it was awesome!" Just then
there was a knock on the door. Jenny called out, "Just a second!" hopped
out of bed, pulled the comforter over me, donned her nightgown, and
opened the door to Helen. I glanced at the clock by the bed. Nearly four
hours had passed since I had come through that door.

    "Well, how did it go?" Helen asked with a twinkle in her eye. "I
hope you didn't totally alienate him."

    "It was great, Mom! I got in almost all of the stuff we talked
about, and it worked really  well! Thanks for all the help! I love it! I
want to do it every day!"

    "Every day wasn't part of the deal, daughter mine. You'll just
have to ration your passion." She turned to me. "Well, Larry, what do
you think? Was she acceptable? If not, we can have her do it again until
she gets it right."

    "Helen, if Jenny gets much better, she'll kill me. She was really
good. I don't know whether it's nature or nurture, but you have a very
talented offspring. On the other hand, if you think more practice would
benefit her in other ways, I stand ready to do my part."

    "Larry, if she had done her job properly, you wouldn't be standing
ready for anything. Or was that a figure of speech?" She glanced down at
the comforter, where no mound was obvious. She looked back at my face,
and my expression moved her to laughter. "Okay, children, you may go
back to your play. Don't wear him out completely, Jenny; he's mine the
rest of the holiday, remember, and you have to return him in serviceable
condition."

    Jenny laughed, "Okay, Mom. I'll try. It's hard, but I'll try."
She thought a second. "Well, it's not hard right now, but I can fix
that."

    Helen rolled her eyes and started out the door. Then she stopped,
turned to Jenny, and remarked, "By the way, Jenny, I think Larry has a
bonus present for you. You might ask him about it." She walked out,
humming a Christmas carol, and closed the door. Jenny looked at me
inquiringly.

    "Actually, Jenny, your mother thought you might enjoy something
a little different, just as a change."

    "Larry, what are you talking about? What have you and Mom got cooked
up?"

    "Come here next to me, and I'll explain everything." She slid in
beside me and waited expectantly. I didn't say a word, but rolled toward
her and kissed her eyelid. She started at the touch, then snuggled up
closer.

    "Come on, Larry, what is it?"

    I let my thumb trace the curve of her ear as I kissed her on the
lips. She started to say something, then returned the kiss. My lips
moved to her ear, and I kissed her earlobe, then sucked it into my
mouth. "Larry, tell me!!"

    I licked the hollow beneath her ear and kissed her neck.  Suddenly
Jenny jumped up. She sat on her heels next to me, bouncing up and down,
covering her mouth with both hands. A muffled, "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
I know! I know!" came through her hands, then she threw her arms around
my neck and crushed me to her. Her lips moved next to my ear, and she
whispered, "Did Mom say . . .?" She pulled back and said, "Oh! My God!"
again, then just "Ohhhhhhhhhh!" Then she put her lips next to my ear
again, and whispered, "Did Mom say . . .?" She bit my earlobe, hard,
then with her lips in my ear whispered, "Did Mom say you could fuck me?"

    Talk about an anticlimax. In any sense you like. I didn't know
how to break the news to her, so I started out by saying, "Well, not
exactly."

    "But we can, right? You can, I mean. We can. Whatever. Even if
she didn't say it exactly, that's what she meant, right?"

    I had to bite the bullet. "No, Jenny. That's not what she meant,
and we can't." Hurt and disappointment covered her face like a mask.

    "But what then? Why can't we?" she moaned pitifully.

    "Jenny, there are other things we can do. You made me feel very,
very good before just by doing things that we are allowed to do, didn't
you?"

    "Yes, I guess so. But that's different. I think I'm just going
to come right out and ask Mom if we can do it. I think I'll do it right
now." She started to get the intercom key.

    "Jenny, don't. Not yet, at least. Let's try this first. Give me
a chance." She stopped.  "You can always ask later. We've waited a long
time for this, right? Let's not take a chance on losing it. Come on back
here and let's just make the most of today. If I can't satisfy you my
way today, I promise I'll ask your mom myself to give us another day
tomorrow."

    "And if I still want to ask her after tomorrow, then I can?"

    I swallowed hard. Nothing like a little pressure to improve
one's performance. "Deal."

    She came back to the bed and cuddled up next to me, "Okay, maestro,
show me what you got." So I began.

    I started with simple caresses, holding her next to me and stroking
her back, her shoulders, her hair. When I began I could feel the tension
in her body, but as I continued she slowly relaxed. When she shifted her
position and fitted her body to mine, I knew she would be receptive to
more, and I kissed her forehead. I had my arm around her shoulders, and
the fingers of my other hand began running idly through her hair,
tracing very slowly around and around her ear. She accepted that, and I
could hear the rhythm of her breathing slow and become more regular. My
lips began exploring her face, nibbling and kissing everywhere in a slow
progression, and paying more and more attention to her lips as I went
on. When my kisses moved to the hollow of her throat, my hand moved from
her hair down to her shoulder and upper arm brought my wrist in contact
with the rise of her breast, now again covered by her gown. As I
caressed her arm, my wrist moved up and down across her breast, and her
nipple began to stiffen. The pace of her breathing increased again,
probably in response to the kisses as much as the stimulation of her
breast since every time my lips moved to hers she would meet them
hungrily. Once these plays became routine, I moved on. My hand moved
from her arm to gently cover that lovely breast, with my palm resting on
a fully erect nipple. The center of gravity of my kisses moved south as
well, and my lips now ranged far enough to touch the rise of her
breasts. Now her breath was markedly heavier, and I could easily measure
it by the heave of her chest.

    I pressed her breast upward to meet the neck of her gown, being
pushed down by my lips, until I was able to kiss the upper edge of her
aureola and let my tongue glide across the protruding nipple. A small
gasp escaped from her. I began to work her flimsy gown up, but she
impatiently pulled it over her head and pitched it away. With her
beautiful young breasts now exposed to the full force of my attack, I
moved into position. Covering her previously neglected breast with my
mouth, I massaged the other with my hand and fingers. Her nipple felt
delightful to my tongue, and I couldn't stop teasing it. The other
nipple I now had between thumb and forefinger and was now rotating it,
twisting it gently as my hand continued to work on her breast. Jenny had
begun to make soft voiceless murmuring sounds, and their pace and volume
increased; she began to writhe almost imperceptibly. I was entranced
with her delicious breast, and was unable to move away from it. I would
suck most of the entire mass into my mouth, press my tongue into it,
feel the exquisite texture of it on my lips, measure its density and
resistance with my jaws, comparing them with that found by my fingers on
the other side. All the time, my tongue would be trying to count the
bumps on that perfect little nipple. I would put the tip of my tongue
end to end with the nipple and press it back into the firmness of the
breast, then feel it burst forth when I let my tongue move aside. My
teeth, carefully covered with my lips, chewed away at the whole of the
breast, delighting in its feel. I knew, really knew, that I should be
concentrating on Jenny, doing everything possible to bring her to the
best orgasm she had ever had, but the longer I stayed with her breast
the less my ability to concentrate on her. Still, she, too, was enjoying
the attention I was paying her breasts. She was running her fingers
through my hair, cooing softly.

    Finally, by pure force of will, I tore my hand away from her breast
and began to caress her side, following the beautiful curve from her
breast to her hip. The softness of her skin and the firm warmth of the
flesh beneath it proved just as irresistible as the territory I had just
left. I was losing control, and losing the discipline to even resist
losing control. Every inch of Jenny's nubile young body was a treasure
to be cherished, a delight to be savored. I surrendered to the
overpowering attraction of that body, and allowed myself to be pulled
along by its force toward the dark center. My fingers hooked the back of
Jenny's bikini briefs and pulled them down over her hips, down over her
knees, until she kicked them free, and off. Now we were both naked. She
tried to direct me back to the breast that I had been devouring, but
unwilling to be led, I contrarily engulfed the other breast instead. Now
I had one breast in each hand, kneading them with my fingers as my mouth
moved back and forth from one to the other trying to make an impossible
decision. Jenny's hands were back on my head now, no longer guiding, but
only tracking. Her coos had become deeper, darker, throatier. She
wrapped her legs around me, drawing me to her. I could feel wetness
against my abdomen. Her legs released me momentarily and I moved my hand
to the source of the wetness, covering it with my palm and pressing
against it. Then, curling my middle finger I drug it through the valley,
wetting it. I moved my hand back to its breast of origin and transferred
the precious fluid from my finger to the nipple, then thirstily lapped
it up from there. Now with my pattern established, my hand returned to
the source to get a supply for the other nipple. I continued mining in
this fashion for an extended period of time, exploring a little deeper
on each successive expedition. My craving for the addictive liquid was
growing greater and greater until it could no longer be satisfied by the
insignificant amounts deposited on the nipples. I knew I would soon be
forced to move directly to the source to obtain the quantities I so
desperately needed.

    Saying farewell with a last long, lingering kiss to each of the
breasts which had sustained me for so long, I dived to the mystical
fountain. Pressing my mouth hard against it, I extended my tongue to
probe its depths. I began a long, slow, lapping motion, curling my
tongue upward to collect as much of the magical liqueur as possible. Now
I had to hold the girl's hips tightly to keep my position, for they were
bucking and twisting madly. My upper lip pressed down, spreading the
girl's labia, and came to rest on the tiny button which was the key to
this vault. With the point secured, my tongue now moved back to the
surface after each dive and flicked along the button. I could hear
strange, unearthly sounds coming from some indeterminate point far away.
Once more the girl's legs wrapped around me and locked me into place.
Once more her fingers twisted through my hair, attempting to push my
head even deeper into her. Now my hands rose again to cover her breasts,
pressing against them, flattening their mass and pressing the nipples
back into them. The girl's legs had a mad strength, and began lifting
both of us from the bed and dropping us forcefully back into place in an
accelerating fury. The sounds grew louder and became more distinct. They
were screams, but whether human or animal was impossible to tell. The
hands were pounding my head now, driving it down forcefully. There was a
new taste now, metallic and salty, drowning out the other. My tongue
dipped deeper yet, trying to wash the metallic taste away with increased
volume of the other. The girl's body shuddered violently, and a sharp
pain shot through my back. I noted with abstract disdain the possibility
that she might have broken it, and thrust my tongue deeper. There was a
series of powerful aftershocks, at least one of them more powerful even
than the first. I had the feeling that I might be about to lose
consciousness. There was a blackness turning to dark red, and sensation
began to leave my body. Then the girl went suddenly limp.

    I don't know how long it was before we came back to the land of
the living, but when I realized where I was I found myself lying between
Jenny's legs, with my cheek resting on her thigh. There was blood
streaked across her groin and down her thigh. Panic hit me. Did we do
the one thing that was forbidden? For a terrible moment I couldn't
remember. There was quite a lot I couldn't remember, but I was pretty
sure we hadn't done that. Jenny groaned and pulled herself up on an
elbow. I rolled over and got up on my hands and knees, then sat back. I
looked at Jenny in shock. Her beautiful white breasts were covered with
angry red welts, there was blood all over the lower half of her body,
her hair was a mess, and she had a strange blank look in her eyes as she
stared at me. Suddenly she dived at me, threw her arms around my neck
and began kissing me hungrily, saying "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou! I love
you!" Then she sat back on her heels and said frankly, "Larry, you're a
mess."

    Without saying a word, I took her hand and led her over to the
mirror that had played such an important part in our play, but which I
had never been able to see from my window. We stood side by side in
front of it, surveying the damage. Then we both started to laugh. My
upper lip was swollen and blue, and after probing with my tongue I knew
the source of the blood: I had managed to tear a deep gash inside my lip
with my teeth. There were also bloody scratches from Jenny's nails all
over my face and extending to my scalp, and others on my shoulders.
Jenny turned me around so that I could see that my back was torn up as
well, and commented, "Mom said I had to return you in serviceable
condition; I sure hope that didn't include superficial damage." Then a
thought struck her, "On the other hand, maybe I can keep you until we
can restore you to your original pristine condition." She giggled. "Oh,
well. Want to split a shower and see how much of this we can clean up?"
I conceded that the idea sounded pretty good. She went to the closet and
handed me my gown, then slipped hers over her shoulders and peeked out
the door. "Come on. Let's go." And we did.

    We were actually pretty businesslike in the shower, helping each
other track down and eradicate as much evidence as it was possible to
wash off. Something had been bothering me since we had finished that 
last episode, though, and I decided that the shower was as good a place
as any to bring it up. "Jenny," I said. She looked up at me. "I'm sorry
for the way I handled that just now."

    She looked shocked. "Why? It was great! That's what you wanted
to do, wasn't it?"

    "I'm afraid I didn't do a very good job, Jenny. I wanted to try
and concentrate on satisfying you, but I just lost it, and I wound up
ignoring you and just going off on my own. There was just something
about you that really got to me. I apologize, but I can't change what's
done. I wanted to make your first time special, but you'll never have
another first time. I promise that I'll try and make it up to you,
though."

    She stopped scrubbing her legs, stood straight up with her hands
planted on her hips, streams of water from the shower pouring off her
head, and looked me square in the eye. "Let me get this straight. Are
you telling me that you can do better than you just did?"

    "Yes, I think so. I know so. And I will, if you'll give me the
chance."

    "I don't believe it." She broke into a broad grin. "But you're
sure gonna get that chance, because if there's anything better than
that, I've gotta see it." She glanced down. "Do you know this is the
first time I've ever seen you soft?" She reached down and squeezed me,
then got a strange look on her face. "Oh, well. At least you were soft
for an instant. Come on, guy, let's get dried off and I'll see if I can
find some ice for that lip." Once we were out of the shower, Jenny
looked me over carefully, running her fingers over my wounds, and
announced that it appeared I wasn't leaking anywhere any more.  "Now let
me take a look at your lip." She very gently pulled my lip away from my
teeth so that she could get a look at the inside of it. It hurt like
hell when she did. "That's pretty nasty. Does it hurt?" Since she was
still holding it when she asked the question, I didn't even try to
answer, so I didn't have to lie. "I don't think it's bleeding any more
either, so it looks like we can put a hold on the call to the blood
bank." She released my lip, and changed the subject. "Considering your
lip, this may be a bad thing to say, but I'm starved. Let's see if we
can find something to eat." She held my hand as we walked back to her
room.

    Since the beige pajamas were the only thing I had in the room, I
put those back on. Jenny tried the effect of putting her nightgown back
on, but the marks on her breasts were very obvious; if anything, they
looked even darker through the translucent fabric. She considered
briefly, and changed into a pair of pajamas. I donned the green dressing
gown, and we went downstairs.

    When we got to the kitchen, Jenny spoke into a normal looking
intercom, "Mom, we're scavenging in the kitchen if you want to join us."

    Helen's voice came back, "Keep a seat open for me, I'll be down
in a few minutes."

    Jenny wrapped a couple of ice cubes in a damp cloth and handed
them to me, "I don't know how much good this will do, but it might help
a little."

    If nothing else, the cold made the pain less noticeable. I sat
at the table, pressing the icepack to my mouth, and watched Jenny flit
about the kitchen putting things together. Her pajamas might have been
opaque, but the fabric had a real cling problem. Watching that exquisite
assembly of young body parts flowing within was fascinating.  Then her
concerned voice brought me back again, "Are you going to be able to eat
solid food with that mouth?"

    "Come over her within reach, and I'll demonstrate," I retorted,
though I fear my words may have been somewhat garbled. Garbled or not,
she understood me.

    "Silly!" She flashed a smile that lit the room, and believe it
or not, blushed.

    We heard Helen coming down the stairs. Since she normally moved
soundlessly, she was obviously announcing her approach. As she entered
the room, she gave me a quick glance, and asked wryly, "Walk into a
door, Larry?"

    Jenny announced that she was preparing breakfast, and Helen pointed
out that it was now after three, and she should probably call whatever
she was fixing lunch, and we could all have a late lunch. Helen added
her efforts to Jenny's, and continued her light conversation, but I felt
that she might be just a bit irritated. I figured that my condition was
the source of her irritation, but I wasn't sure what it was that
irritated her. It could be that she thought Jenny should have been more
careful, and was upset with her, or it could be that she was only upset
with the result without assigning fault. At any rate, as soon as she
found an opportunity she sat down next to me, and said, "Let me have a
look at that." I obediently moved the icepack and turned to her. She
wasn't as obviously careful as Jenny had been, but she managed to get a
look at the damage without hurting me nearly as much as Jenny had. 
Maybe it was just the ice working. Helen shook her head slowly back and
forth for a second, then grinned and announced that I would live. She
moved her chair back from the table a bit, leaned back, and crossed her
legs. For a couple of minutes she just sat there, seemingly in deep
thought. Jenny and I both watched her expectantly. Finally she spoke.
"Well, Jenny. I guess I'll have to work on your nursing skills next."
She paused for a heartbeat or two. "You know, I don't think we ever
specified exactly what 'a day' is. It's an interesting point. If 'a day'
is Christmas day, then it's over in eight hours or so.  On the other
hand, we could say that 'a day' is a continuous twenty-four hour period.
I think that, for this time only, we'll go with that. Future days will
be negotiated as required." Jenny and I looked at each other; we both
understood immediately. "Just this once you can hang on to him until
eight in the morning. As long as you understand that 'sleep' means
'sleep', you can sleep with him tonight."

    Jenny launched herself toward her mother and nearly knocked her
chair over as she threw her arms around her. "Thanks, Mom! I promise
I'll take better care of him. I promise!"

    Helen broke into laughter, "Just don't take too much better care
of him, Jenny."

    "I know, Mom. I know. Larry told me, too. I was going to ask you
if we could, but Larry talked me out of it.  And what he did was better
than I imagined anyway." I looked as modest as I could. "But I'd still
like to someday, if it's all right with you."

    Her mother explained the rules, "First, you're going to have to
see if you can keep his interest for the next four years or so. Because
until you're eighteen it's a non-starter. But I'll tell you something.
If you can keep his interest, I suspect that Larry can keep you amused
for the next four years without it."

    "Three years and seven months, Mom, and I'll wait for him.  You'll
see."

    Well, it was out, and it wasn't the disaster I had seen. Things
might not be so bad after all.  I was actually able to eat. Some things
at least. And when we had finished eating, Helen suggested that under
the circumstances it would probably be a good idea to have a few things
ready to eat at any time and that she would handle that for us. Then she
mentioned to me that she had something that I could use on my lip, but
that I would have to decide whether to use it or not. When I asked what
the downside was, she said that while it might promote healing, it would
also provide pain relief. I suggested that perhaps pain relief wasn't
necessarily a down side.  She said that it would deaden all feeling in
my lip for several hours, and waited expectantly.

    I thought about it for a few seconds, and said that I would pass
on it. She nodded, smiled, and said, "A very responsible decision." She
looked at Jenny, "I wouldn't be surprised if Larry tries to use that lip
between now and tomorrow morning. Try not to tear it up any more if you
can avoid it."

    "Mom," now it was Jenny's turn to be irritated, "I wasn't trying
to tear it up the first time. It just happened. I didn't know it was
happening then, and I don't think Larry did either." She looked at me
for reinforcement.

    "No, I didn't feel it getting cut. I didn't know it until . .
.much later. But that was my fault, too. I should have been more in
control." Helen looked at me curiously.  I did not elaborate.

    "Anyway," Helen wrapped it up, "have fun, but--to the extent
possible, at least--try to minimize the collateral damage." She stood
up, "And unless you need me for something before then, I'll see you in
the morning." She walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs without
looking back.

    As soon as her mother was out of sight, Jenny jumped up and wrapped
me in a bear hug. She started to kiss me on the mouth, then caught
herself and just pressed herself to me instead. We went back upstairs to
spend the night together.

    We had roughly fifteen hours to allocate to the activities of
our choice--barring one, of course.  To tell the truth, a fair amount of
that time was spent just cuddling. Not all of it, of course: Jenny
wanted another shot at getting the initial spurt with her mouth, and I
convinced her that I would have a lot more buildup for her if I did her
again first. Before we did either, we spent a fair amount of time just
talking and experimenting to find out what we liked and what had the
most dramatic effects. During the course of the evening I also learned
more of the details of the agreement Jenny had with her mom.  On the
surface it seemed pretty straightforward: Jenny would get one day with
me every two weeks. She couldn't borrow, but she could bankroll; in
other words, she couldn't possibly get me for another day before two
weeks had passed, but if she wanted to wait four weeks, she could have
me for two days. The problem was that negotiations were allowed, and
having participated in one of their Monopoly games I was pretty sure
that negotiations would be rampant. All I could really count on was that
when they had scheduled me, they would let me know.

    Until the next morning, Jenny treated me as her lover, as though
we were the only two people in the world. Then when eight o'clock came,
she kissed me goodbye and became the innocent daughter of a mother whose
friend I was. That pattern never changed; whenever it was Jenny's turn
she was an avaricious lover, and when her day with me ended I became
nothing more than a friend of her mother. Strangely, (to me, at least)
our other routines were not affected by the new factor. Every week,
nominally on Tuesday and Thursday, Jenny and Ashleigh would come to my
apartment and we would play our games. Sometimes a day would change
(frequently because one of Jenny's days interfered, and I would have to
invent an excuse on my own) and sometimes our activities would change
for a day or two, but the basic nature of our relationship never changed
over the next several weeks.

    It was interesting to me that after "Jenny's days" began, Jenny
had only one really good day on the field of honor with Ashleigh, and
that was the first week after Christmas. After that, Ashleigh won almost
every week, and her cumulative score was devastating. In accordance with
our original agreement I suggested that we modify the scoring to make
the results more even. Ashleigh was amenable, but Jenny adamantly
refused. Sometimes when we were in bed together I would ask Jenny why
she seemed to be having problems at my apartment when she knew all the
little tricks to turn me on and get much better results. She said that
taking advantage of knowledge which Ashleigh didn't have would be
unfair. I was never able to shake that conviction, even after it was
obvious that Ash was losing interest in the competitive aspects of the
game. (But Ash never lost interest in the self-competitive aspects; she
worked very hard to improve her individual performance, and did, far
more than I would have thought possible.)

    This rather strange relationship continued unchanged for the
next few months. Then one day in early May I had a call from Ashleigh.
At my office.



(continued in chapter 9)
-- CJ
I don't write any stories. I'm just a reader, and sometimes a reposter.


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