Serendipity - Version Bravo
Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | Epilogue
When you're removed from a situation like that, you have time to think. What you think about is the key to things. You can think about why everything happened, and what led to things happening. You can try to figure out what to do next. Or, like me, you can close your eyes for ten minutes and think about that pretty, pink pussy that's just begging to be skewered by a spurting prick.
So, when I returned with the ace bandage and interrupted an excited conversation that was cut off like the end of a carrot with a meat cleaver, I was still reacting to things, rather than pursuing some actual plan. What kind of plan I should have been pursuing will forever remain a mystery, because I didn't think about that, as I mentioned. I say this because, considering how things eventually turned out, I do not want anyone to think I became a predator, who stalked those poor girls like the pervert I was.
I was still a little rattled, but I couldn't miss the fact that the skirt had been rearranged. It was now tucked demurely between her thighs. Only an idiot would have thought about reaching for the skirt and putting it back the way it had been. So I ignored that urge and all I did was pay attention to the ankle as I wrapped it. That wasn't as easy as it sounds, by the way. That's because she put both feet in my lap when I sat down to wrap her ankle, which meant while I was holding her left one, her right foot was lying smack dab on top of my penis, which was still somewhat firm. Lest you get the wrong idea about her, she didn't move that foot around, trying to feel my cock. It just lay there, all pink and bare. When I was finished I looked directly at her still pink face (meaning I didn't let my eyes stop anywhere else on the way from her foot to her face) and said, "Gently, now ... try to put a little weight on it."
She lifted her legs and rolled to sit on the side of the bed. Emma went to lend her a shoulder as she scooted forward and touched the floor.
"It's not so bad now," she said.
Pervert that I am, my mind flashed to that fantasy every guy has had at one time or another, where a girl, who is naked and underneath him, says those words in a very different context. Such is the power of pussy. And even when all you do is glimpse it! I tried to push that thought away.
"You want to try standing up?" I asked.
She nodded, looking down at her ankle. I think the pain had all her attention at that point. Ashley came around and her two friends became her crutches as she stood, first on one foot, and then letting her weight settle on both.
"It hurts," she said. "But I don't think it's broken or anything."
"I don't either," I said. "But we need to keep an eye on it. First, though, let's get an ice pack on it for a while. You can try walking on it later."
I went to put ice cubes in a quart sized zip lock bag and returned. My cock was under control now, and hanging harmlessly again.
"Twenty minutes lying down," I said, "before you try to stand up again. I'll go look for the crutches."
"Yes, sir," she said, looking at me. I saw her blush again. I wondered if something bad had just transpired, and I wasn't thinking about the ankle.
I hoped not. I really did think the world of her, and the last thing I wanted was for her to decide that her summers with Uncle Bob had come to a screeching halt.
"We'll stay with her," said Ashley, needlessly.
I hadn't really expected either of them to come help me search for a pair of crutches.
I found the aluminum crutches in the garage, right where I thought they'd be. When I got back to her bedroom, the girls had recovered their composure. I say that because I didn't interrupt an excited confab this time. They were confident again, and there were no traces of giggling or tomfoolery, though all those nipples were still erect. Now that I think back on it, that should have told me something ... warned me that there might be further consequences from this little serendipitous incident. It would have been better if they'd been a little giddy and "girlish" about things, if you know what I mean.
But young women who are stretching their sexual wings, in an environment they feel safe in, are often less wary than would be wise.
Again, I want the kind reader out there to understand that I wasn't trying to help these girls explore their sexuality. Not at all.
But girls do that, just like boys do, and they do it whenever and wherever they feel is the "right time" to open up to new experiences. Every girl decides, usually quite suddenly and without warning, to try something sexual for the first time. It just happens.
But I didn't recognize any signs that something like that might be going on, so all I did was deliver the crutches, remind her to keep the ice on her ankle for at least ten more minutes, and call me if she felt like she needed to be seen at the hospital.
Then I left them in her room to return to my sandwich.
The bread had dried out and was all crusty.
I sighed and ate it anyway.
I'm an architect, and I have my own business, so I get to work when I want to. I was working on a project in my CAD program when Ashley tapped on the open doorway of my office.
"She's going to take a nap," she said, leaning into the room just a little. "We didn't know if we should leave the ice pack on her ankle while she falls asleep or not."
"Won't hurt a thing," I said. "No more jumping on the beds. Got it?"
"It was just this once," she said, immediately. "It was just to ..."
The silence made me look from the screen to the nervous looking girl at my office door.
"Just to what?" I asked.
"Nothing," she said, obviously lying. "We're going to go now."
"Okay," I said. "See you tomorrow?"
I don't know why I asked that question. Maybe it was just me on autopilot. The musketeers got together every day that Caitlin was in town, unless she and I were doing something that excluded her friends. That didn't happen all that often. We'd done all the museums and sights-to-see things when she was younger.
"Really?" She sounded worried, somehow. "You're not mad?"
"Why would I be mad?" I asked. "She jumped on the bed, and now she's living with the consequences of it. It's just a life lesson in making better
decisions," I said.
"Decisions," she said, softly.
"Yes," I said, looking at her. I suddenly realized she was wearing a bra under the tank top. She hadn't been wearing a bra earlier. "You make decisions as you grow up, and then you have to live with the results of those decisions."
"Of course," she said. "Okay. Good."
I wondered what that meant, but she turned and was gone like smoke from a good cigar in a cool breeze.
I gave it another twenty minutes at the computer and then went upstairs to check on Caitlin. She wasn't in bed.
I found her outside again, on a chaise lounge by the pool. The crutches were lying on the concrete beside her and the ice pack, or what was
left of it, was draped across her ankle. She was in her bikini again, laying out in the sun, eyes closed.
"Well, you made it down here," I observed.
She opened her eyes. "Yeah. It's not as bad as I originally thought."
"Good," I said. "You need to take it easy for a while, though."
"I know," she said. Then, "Uncle Bob?"
There was a long pause, until she eventually said, "Never mind."
Now she wasn't so confident. Gone was the brash young woman who put herself out there to see what would happen and didn't worry about it before hand. It made me a little sad to see that. I was used to the fearless tomboy, who was willing to take on just about any challenge. We'd always been able to talk about things, just about anything, in fact, and I did not view her reticence now as a good thing. I think that's what made me say
what I said.
"You want to talk about it?"
"About what?" she responded, still firmly reticent.
"I think you know," I suggested.
She blushed beet red, and I knew she knew that I knew she knew.
"Maybe," she said, softly.
"Whenever you're ready," I said. "I'm going for a swim."
"Is it okay for me to get in the water with my leg like this?" she asked, obviously glad that the subject had been changed.
"Sure. In fact that's probably the best thing you could do for it," I said. "The water will support your weight, and you can work the ankle, loosening it up."
"Will you help me get to the water?" she asked, sitting up.
"You don't mind if your pervert uncle touches you?" I couldn't resist it. Don't ask me why.
Her eyes widened. I knew she was shocked that I was that open about things. Then that stubborn tomboy appeared suddenly on her face.
"I don't think of you as a pervert," she said, firmly.
"Maybe you should," I shot back.
That got her, but not for long.
"I'm not worried about being around you," she said. "In fact ..." She closed down, and then hastily said, "Never mind. Help me into the pool, Uncle Pervert."
I helped her to the edge of the pool with her arm over my shoulders and my hand on her side, my fingertips just below her breast, lying on her ribs. It was so tempting to cup that breast ... but I didn't. She hopped along to the edge of the pool and then let go of me to fall in, body extended. She landed on her back, arms spread, bad foot up in the air. I saw the cups of her top float briefly to the surface before being dragged down by her descending body. Through the wavering water, I had a tantalizingly unclear view of her naked, young breasts as she grabbed for the errant top and tried to put things back into place while holding her breath and staying off her bad foot.
She came up, spluttering, arms behind her and kicked, like she normally would. That hurt the ankle, though, and she went under with a gurgle.
I jumped in, dove under her and pushed her up with one hand on her firm bubble butt. Her arms had left off trying to get modest again, in support of not drowning, and the bikini top was again floating in the water. My underwater vantage point was much clearer, and I could see her breasts were just as delightful as her lower parts had been. I pushed off the bottom to come up beside her and gripped one of her upper arms, pulling her toward the shallow end.
She struggled at first, and then realized what I was doing, and went limp, knowing it would be easier for me to tow her like that. She spent plenty of time in the ocean and was well trained about water safety and lifeguard type things as a result.
I got her to where we could stand and put her on her feet. Her hands covered her breasts as she stood up, but the instinct to wipe the water out of her eyes was too strong and her breasts were left briefly bare as she cleared her vision. Then the hands went back to cover her nipples.
"I've seen them before," I said, calmly.
"When?" she gasped.
"Not yours," I laughed. "But I've seen other breasts on other women. Coochies too, for that matter." I said that intentionally, emphasizing the word I was deriding.
"That's just the word we've used since we were kids," she groaned, obviously embarrassed about it.
"And now you're old enough to use the proper word," I suggested.
"Vagina sounds so stupid," she shot back.
"I was thinking pussy," I said.
"Uncle Bob!" she gasped.
"Well, when you flash yours at someone, don't expect them to call it by any other name," I said, grinning. This didn't seem so terribly serious now. It was more like before, when we were able to talk about other things most people don't talk about. Like the time she'd been watching a DVD and I
told her I was going to the grocery store and asked if she wanted anything.
"Tampons," she'd said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. In truth I think she was distracted by the movie, and that lowered her inhibitions.
"I've never bought tampons before," I said. "Are there more than one kind?"
She had blushed then, and said "I'll just go with you."
But on the way I'd insisted she teach me all about tampons. By the time she was finished, it didn't seem so strange any more. That kind of atmosphere asserted itself now, as odd as that might sound.
"I didn't flash it at you," she said. "I mean I didn't mean for you to see me like that."
"Why didn't you cover up, then?" I asked. It was a legitimate question.
"I did," she said.
"Not until I left the room. Why didn't you cover up as soon as you realized what I was staring at?"
I don't know," she pouted. "Now turn around so I can fix my suit."
"No," I said, calmly.
"What do you mean, no?" she asked, staring at me.
"You turn around and I'll tie it for you," I said.
She blinked several times, looking confused. I could just see her mind turning over what I'd offered, looking for some joke or catch. She didn't find one.
"Okay," she said.
She turned and arranged the suit to cover her breasts. I reached around, inserted my fingers under the edge of the bottom of the cups, and then
slid them back to find the strings. My fingertips brushed the bottoms of her breasts in the process and she sucked in air and moved backwards. All that did was make her run into me, and that bubble butt pressed right on my cock. Thankfully it wasn't hard at the time.
"I thought you weren't afraid of me," I said, pulling on the strings.
"I'm not!" she barked, looking over her shoulders at me. "You just startled me."
I tied the strings in a bow and pushed her away from me. She turned, looking disgruntled.
"You're a beautiful young woman," I said, calmly. "Don't be surprised that, like any other man, I'd be more than happy to view that beauty any time I get the chance."
She was startled. That was plain. I would find out later that the bouncing on the bed business was for the purpose of exploring what bouncing breasts looked like without a bra on. The idea was for them to watch each other and decide whether it looked sexy or gross. The going commando part (they were all that way too) was just for the excitement of doing that. They didn't intend anybody (me) to see them like that, and when it had happened, it had all seemed out of control to them. They weren't ready for that much exposure, but when it happened, it was something none of them could ignore. They were still processing the results, and she didn't expect me to approach the subject so boldly.
"Thank you," she said, somewhat dazed. I think it was just her mother's training on what to do when one complimented you.
"You're welcome. I've abused you more than enough for one day. I'll go get something ready for supper."
I had the sliding door open when she called out to me and I turned. She was standing there, looking at me.
"You didn't abuse me," she said.
"I'm glad you feel that way," I responded.
It took two more days for things to smooth out. Ashley and Emma came over each day, but they were reserved around me. It was obvious the first day when they arrived and rang the bell instead of just coming in, as they had made a habit of for the last year or so. I hadn't paid any attention to that, but was surprised when I found them waiting to be invited in.
"Yes?" I asked, not understanding.
"Can we come in?" asked Emma, who got a little pink in the cheeks.
"Of course," I said. "Why? What changed?"
Ashley, who apparently felt a little more secure in this new atmosphere, rolled her eyes. "You're very strange," she said, as if that made any sense at all.
They disappeared upstairs and the girls spent all day up there. Caitlin took care of feeding them and herself that day, and asked if she could spend the night at Emma's. She'd always just told me when she was going to do that, but I waved a hand at her and told her to have fun.
The next day, though, things appeared to have returned to normal. I was working, and heard the front door open as the girls came in. A little later Caitlin popped her head into the doorway.
"We're going to swim," she said.
"Please don't drown," I replied. "I've got a little more to do here before I can do lifeguard duty."
"Be sure to come out when you're finished," she said.
That seemed a little odd, but maybe things were still a bit unsettled.
When I closed things down and went outside, though, it didn't take long before I realized something was going on. They were in the water, but when I had settled into my chair with my book, they all got out and came toward me. I figured they were going to ask if they could order pizza or something, but part of my mind went on alert. I didn't know why at first until they reached me.
Modern bikinis, at least the expensive ones my niece and her friends favored, have a feature I'm not sure most parents are aware of. They have modesty panels in them. That's not the strange part. Almost all bikinis have modesty panels in them. But with the expensive bikinis, they aren't permanently sewn in. You can remove them. That's the part parents may not be aware of. And as the girls arrived to stand, displayed before me, I was treated to the view of three girls in bikinis from which the modesty panels had been removed.
They were excited. That much was plain, if only by the jutting nipples beneath the thin cloth of their tops. It was a warm day, and it had been warm for more than a month, so it wasn't the temperature of either the water or air that was responsible for the erection of those nipples.
I felt a stirring in my loins as I realized this display was intentional.
So ... I dropped my eyes and examined the bottoms.
Emma was not shaved. That much was plain from the puffy form her pubic hair made. Caitlin, as I have already described, had bulging, thick pussy lips, and they looked almost as well defined under the wet cloth of her suit as they had when I looked up the leg of her skirt and saw them naked. Only Ashley had the quintessential camel toe, comprised of firm and firmly closed outer labia that were unhindered by hair, like Caitlin's sex was.
"What's this all about," I asked, trying to look up into their faces. The sun was behind their heads, though, so I couldn't see their expressions.
"What do you think?" asked Caitlin. "Do you think we'd get in trouble if we went to the public pool like this?"
It was obvious that they knew what I'd been looking at, which I realized was their whole aim. They'd found a "boy" they could show off in front of, and they were dying to know what that "boy" thought.
"I think you'd be arrested," I said, calmly. "And then I think you'd be strip searched and, to make sure you didn't hang yourselves with what you are laughingly calling bikinis, they'd put you in the cell naked. You would be extremely well guarded, probably by the entire force."
Nothing. My joke had apparently fallen flat.
"Really?" That was Ashley. Maybe they hadn't realized it was a joke. Then again, if they did appear that way in public, it was likely the law would become involved, one way or another. If they weren't busted for looking obscene, they'd be rescued from being assaulted by boys or men driven mad with lust.
"Emma might be able to pull it off," I said, taking another shot. "Unless she decides to shave like the other two of you. Then all bets are off. You want to tell me what this is all about?"
"No," said Caitlin, sounding either confused or frustrated. "Can we go skinny dipping? The fence is high enough that nobody would see."
"I would see," I reminded her.
"That's okay," said my niece. "We trust you."
The situation had changed. What "situation" means, in that context, is 'Caitlin-comes-to-visit-Uncle-Bob-for-purely-a-vacation-and-nothing-more.'
It was clear to me. These girls were obviously exploring their sexuality, something they'd never done in my presence before. Things had moved from accidental to intentional. All that flashed through my mind in an instant. If I'd had more time to think about it, I might have said, "That's nice. Go on and play." But just like they were winging it, delving into new territory, I was too. So I guess I reacted in a way that I thought might help educate them about the dangers of doing ... what they were doing.
"Foolish, foolish girls," I sighed.
Then I adjusted my cock in my shorts. I did it very obviously, so their attention would be drawn to what I was doing. I was pretty sure the stiff column telegraphed through the cloth of my suit, and that they'd be able to see the length of my erection. I wanted them to understand this was no game.
I sat up, putting my feet on opposite sides of the lounge. They almost scattered like scared chickens who saw a fox, but stopped after a couple
"I thought you weren't afraid of me," I said, showing them as much of my teeth as I could manage.
"We didn't say that at all," said Ashley. "We said we trust you."
"Tell you what," I said, coming up with an idea I thought was gold. "You can go skinny dipping ... as long as I get to go skinny dipping too."
I grinned again, showing them the wolf's teeth.
It was silent for long enough that, with horror, I realized they were actually thinking about it! They weren't supposed to think about it. They were supposed to react negatively to the idea, and come to their senses.
"Okay!" Caitlin suddenly blurted.
"I don't know," moaned Emma, just as suddenly.
"Huddle!" snapped Ashley.
They went far enough away that they thought I couldn't hear them. They were wrong. It was Ashley who said, "We talked about this!" and it was probably Emma who responded "Yeah, but we didn't say it would be this soon !" Apparently Caitlin saw me listening, because she shushed them, and moved them farther away. They whispered after that. That was fine, though, because I was thinking furiously. Obviously my gambit to scare some sense into them was the wrong approach. It was obvious now that these girls assumed they were old enough to make decisions that most of the rest of society didn't want them making. It's always that way with teenagers. They want to be grown up, so they try to act grown up.To that end, they make decisions that put them in grown up situations.
My thought proccesses were interrupted by them coming back. It was Caitlin who spoke for them.
"Okay, but you have to stay at least three feet away from us."
I laughed. Here were these gorgeous girls, playing with fire, wringing as much out of life as they dared, and they were trying to build safety into sexual exploration. It brought back memories from when I was their age. I should have educated them. I should have sat them down and given them the facts of life that nobody ever has the balls to give to girls at that stage of life. I should have told them that the boys will agree to anything to get them naked, and keep agreeing to anything to be able to climb between their sweet, soft thighs. I should have told them that sooner or later, they aren't going to want to be safe anymore. I should have told them that, as much as they don't think it will happen, once they start playing that game, they'll end up going into heat and spreading their legs to let a man fertilize them. It's just how Mother Nature has arranged things.
I should have told them that me staying three feet away is no way to combat a hundred thousand years of the instinct to get much closer.
But I didn't. I didn't think of that then. Instead, I figured that, of all the men on the planet they could be with at this vulnerable time in their lives, I was both the logical and best choice to let them explore and yet be completely safe in the process. I wasn't going to fuck them. I knew that. True, they were above the age of consent in Oklahoma, but I still thought of them as jail bait, and even if they ended up wanting it, they might not feel that way after it was over and done. I wasn't taking a chance on that. I was single because I chose to be single,
and I had my own libido completely under control. So they were safe with me.
Did I mention that nature has arranged it so men will tell themselves all kinds of lies too?
It actually went pretty well at first. That is to say I kept my distance, as agreed upon. Of course I went in with them. Everybody needed that, initially. Just walking around naked wasn't quite in the cards at that point. Still, as you can see, things were already out of control. We just kept lying to ourselves that things were governable. I know I did, and of course the girls believed that things could be managed without any problem at all. To them it was just an exciting little experiment that gave them a chance to experience things they couldn't, otherwise.
I want to be very clear here. The things I've just told you are things I realized in retrospect. At the time, my intentions were as honorable as intentions can be in a situation like that. I'm being honest when I say that, while I did enter into the contract for the purpose of flaunting my rigid penis at them, I didn't have any overpowering urges to chase any of them down and have my way with them. It was actually kind of fun, at first. They were as giddy as school girls. Of course they were school girls, but it was still loads of just plain fun to see them adapt to a completely new situation.
They clustered together at first, no doubt because they felt there was safety in numbers. And they didn't look at me for the longest time. They didn't speak much, which I thought was funny. I mean the whole point of skinny dipping is to feel the water flowing over your naked body, and all they did was stand there uncomfortably, not moving around, not looking at me and not saying anything to each other.
It was Emma, of all people, who finally said, "You know, this does feel pretty cool."
That got them moving, and then conversation (between them) began to pick up. They still acted as if I wasn't there, but I could tell, from the quick glances, that they knew exactly where I was at all times.
Eventually, though, when nothing horrible happened, the confidence of youth began to bloom in them again. I don't know how long it took, but I'd guess it wasn't more than fifteen minutes before, quite suddenly, I found myself in the midst of three circling naked girls, who now were looking
at nothing other than me.
I wasn't stupid. Even if they didn't know what was going on, I did.
"So ..." I said, finally. "You want to look at it?"
"Look at what?" asked Caitlin, who sounded quite confident.
"I think you know," I said. I had been squatting in the water, letting the little waves in the pool tickle my neck. I stood up. The water still came just above my hips, but all three of them created a froth backing away from me.
"What if we do?" asked Ashley, apparently deciding that coy wasn't the name of the game, despite her uncontrollable urge to back away from "danger".
"You're all seventeen," I said. "Don't tell me you've never seen one. Statistics say that at least one of you has already had sex."
"That's stupid!" barked my niece. "Statistics don't mean diddly when it comes to three particular girls."
"True," I said, feeling a little lame. "But they're all I have to work with."
"Well your statistics are wrong, mister!" she shot back.
"Good," I said. "I'm glad."
"You're glad you're wrong?" asked Emma.
"I'm glad if the three of you have had enough sense to stay clear of getting in over your heads with boys."
"This isn't like I thought it would be," said Emma. She was clearly complaining.
"In what way?" I asked.
"I thought it would be more fun," she said.
"That's just because he's being all smarmy," said Caitlin.
"I think you need to check the dictionary," I said. "If anybody is being smarmy, it's you three. You're the ones who managed to get naked and
then get me naked too. I think the word you're looking for is pedantic. I'm being pedantic, not smarmy."
"What you're being is no fun," groused Caitlin.
"What do you want me to be?" I asked. I was still leaning toward pedantic.
"How are we supposed to know?" complained Ashley. "We've never done anything like this before."
"Do you want me to chase you?" I asked.
They backed up again, and all three said "No!" as if they'd practiced saying it together for hours.
"Do you want me to go inside and leave you alone?" I suggested.
There was a pause, but then there were three more "No"s. They were softer, and not said in unison, this time.
I decided we weren't getting anywhere and, like the girls, I was feeling like this wasn't very much fun. So I took the bull by the horns and went to the edge, walking between Caitlin and Ashley. I bounced up to sit on the side of the pool, in full view. It wasn't until then that I realized I wasn't hard any more. The "not fun" part of things had apparently taken its toll.
"How's this?" I asked, just sitting there.
All three were down in the water up to their necks, like I had been. They wandered toward me, each one taking her time, trying to make it look like it was unintentional. They converged, though, arriving in front of me at more or less the same time. I let my legs drift much farther apart than they would have if I was simply sitting on the side of the pool.
They stared, and I let them.
"That's not a boner," suggested Ashley.
"I thought you said you'd never seen one," I said. Don't ask me why I challenged her like that.
"Duh," she said. "Internet. That doesn't look anything like what I see online."
You are correct," I said, sagely.
"Isn't it supposed to be ... hard?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious.
"It doesn't stay hard all the time," I said. "It responds to stimulus and certain conditions. But lacking those, it goes back to sleep, so to speak."
"So we're boring ?" Emma sounded hurt.
"Not at all," I said. "But you're scared, and that's not sexy, at least not to me. And most people would say it's wrong for me to be sitting here like this, or let the three of you be naughty like you're doing. I'm actually trying not to have an erection, because that's the responsible thing for me to do."
I almost winced. That sounded stupid even to me. If I was being responsible at all, none of us would be naked, and we certainly wouldn't be talking about my penis. But it flew right over their heads.
"I don't think responsible was what we were looking for," said Caitlin. "I mean I know our parents would freak if they knew we were doing this. But
that's not why we decided to ... um ... act sexy?" I realized she wasn't sure if they had met their own goal of "acting sexy."
"Oh, you three are sexy," I assured her. "There's no doubt about that at all. Not one scintilla. The other day, when Emma pointed out that I had an erection, that was a direct result of the ... uh ... sexiness of the situation."
"You mean when you saw my ..."
"Coochie," I said, as dryly as I could.
"Pussy!" Caitlin corrected me more robustly than I think she had intended. It shocked both her and her two cohorts. Deciding to be less pedantic I followed up.
"Yes, when I saw your pussy, and that all three of you had erect nipples, it was very sexy and I responded to that stimulus under those conditions."
"I don't get it," said Emma. "Tuesday we had on clothes, and today we're actually naked!"
"Yes, but you're not naked for the right reasons," I said.
Almost immediately I decided that was the wrong thing to say. I recognized that as a "typical" male thing to say, and this wasn't a typical situation. Further, I was trying not to be a typical male at the moment. I held up a finger to forestall any response.
"That wasn't fair to you three," I said. "You are trying to explore right now, and your intent in doing this wasn't to end up in bed." A thought occurred to me that sent a thrill through me. "That's right ... isn't it? You three aren't trying to get laid ... are you?"
They didn't even have to say anything. It was obvious instantly that the mere thought of "getting laid" terrified them.
"No!" squealed Ashley and Caitlin. Poor Emma just looked stunned. This really wasn't turning out to be like what she'd thought it would.
"Okay," I said. "Then knowing that, the obvious thing for me to do is be a good boy and not get an erection. It isn't that you're not sexy. It's that there isn't going to be any sex. Do you see what I mean?"
"Guys can do that?" asked Ashley, sounding awed. "I mean you can just turn it on and off like that?"
"Not hardly," I laughed. Then I laughed again. "No pun intended."
"Then I don't get it," said Ashley. "I went out with Chad Greer and he was begging me to do stuff because he said he was in actual pain. He said he couldn't control himself and that it was because I was too beautiful. And then you get hard for Kat, but now we're naked and you're just sitting there being a pedophile."
I blinked, startled.
"I think you meant pedantic," said Caitlin, understanding before I did.
"Whatever," said Ashley, unconcerned about the difference. "Emma's right. This isn't at all like we thought it would be."
Ashley's comment turned out to be another of those "little things" that cause big waves. I don't think it was her use of the wrong word to describe me, though that was plenty bad. Rather, I think it was the scorn in her voice that hit a nerve deep in my male psyche. I had been trying to be more or less responsible, in a very irresponsible kind of way. But that faint note of scorn ... that suggestion that I wasn't a real man, or something ... got to me enough that responsibility sort of leapt out the window the girls had opened.
"Tell you what, Ashley," I said, softly. "If you want to see a boner, then you quit acting like a scared little rabbit and come on over here and I'll show you a boner."
<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>