Serendipity - Version Charlie

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | Epilogue

Chapter Ten

Caitlin wasn't up when breakfast was served the next morning.  "Served" is the wrong word, really.  I slept late too, but when my body woke up "late" I was in California instead of back home, and I woke up just in time for breakfast in California.  When I wandered into the kitchen, Hannah and Phil were just sitting down, and invited me to join them.  I got a cup of coffee and a banana from the counter and sat down.  Phil was reading the paper and commenting to no one in particular about something political.

"Caitlin's not up yet," said Hannah. 

I wasn't surprised.  Yesterday had been a long day for us both, and she'd had that glass of wine at the restaurant, and another when we got home, before going to bed.  Then her mother had talked to her for who knows how long. We'd gotten home from The Hag's Cauldron around nine, and she hadn't come to talk to me until midnight.

"Let her sleep," I said.  "I remember how precious mornings were during summer vacation."

"Me too," said Phil, laying his paper down.  "I'd love to stay and chat, but I need to get dressed and get to the old salt mine."

Ten minutes later he came back into the kitchen and leaned down to kiss Hannah goodbye.  I realized she was still in those pajamas, and couldn't help looking at the tips of her breasts.  They were smoothly rounded, this morning.

Hannah was still eating cereal from a bowl.  She had a piece of toast on a little plate next to her, and had nibbled at that.  Finally, she looked up at me.

"I had sex with my husband last night," she said.

"Thank you for sharing," I replied, after I got my surprise under control.

"The whole time, all I could think of was you and Caitlin ... doing what we were doing."

"I'm sorry," I said.  What else do you say in that situation?

"It was the best sex we've had in years," she moaned.  "Does that make me a terrible mother?"

And what do you say to something like that?

"You want to know a secret?" I asked.

"What?"

"Do you know why men love going to weddings?"

"Men don't love going to weddings," she said.

"Yes they do," I insisted.  "They fight it just to make sure that their woman makes them go."

"Why?"

"So that when the bride comes down the aisle, all dressed in white, looking pure and virginal, they can fantasize about what she's going to be doing that night, in her honeymoon bed."

"That's terrible!"

"It's normal.  Men are biologically programmed to want to have sex with lots of women, and spread their seed far and wide.  Now that we're all civilized, we can't do that in real life.  So we do it in our fantasy lives."

"I still think it's terrible."

"Did you imagine she was you?" I asked.  "Did you imagine Phil was me?"

She didn't answer, but the shade of red her face turned, told me what the answer would have been.

"You didn't do anything wrong," I said. 

"It felt wrong."

"If I asked to take you to bed right now, would you do it?"

"Of course not.  Especially not if you asked me like you just did."

"Your body says otherwise," I said.  I pointed at the front of her PJs, which again showed spiked nipples underneath. 

"Shit," she said, softly.

"They did that last night too," I said.

"Shit," she said again.  "I thought I was over you."

"You are," I said.  "That's just Mother Nature, fucking with your mind.  And that's what fantasy is good for.  It lets all that kind of emotion play out in ways that aren't harmful to real relationships. Don't worry about it."

"But what do I do the next time we make love?" she moaned.

"Make love," I said.  "Go with the flow."

"How is it that you, who are not married, and have no girlfriend, know so much about all this?"

"Because all I have is fantasy," I said.  Something deep inside me, some impish urge, made me say what I said next.  "At least until recently."

I dropped my eyes to the front of her PJs again. She saw me do it.  Her nipples must have been straining under that top.

"I had forgotten how you could do that," she said.

"Do what?"

"Make me crazy," she said.  "And you probably made Caitlin crazy too.  Now I don't know whether to believe she seduced you, or you seduced her."

"Trust me, I had no intention of moving our relationship in that direction," I said. 

"Well you did.  Or it did."

"I know and I think your plan for dealing with it makes sense.  In fact, it would probably be better if I went on home, instead of hanging around her any longer.  All that's going to do is put stress on everyone."

She looked sad, but nodded her head.

"You're probably right.  I've got some errands to run.  I'll go get dressed and do that, while you wake her up and say goodbye."

I blinked.  "You know what will happen if she finds out we're alone in the house, and that you're out doing errands." 

Her cheeks tinted pink again.

"Of course I do.  But I also know what would happen if you don't.  If you left without ..." she swallowed, "um ... saying goodbye, she'd never forgive you."

"Thank you," I said, meaning it with all my heart.

"Give me half an hour," she said.

"It takes you half an hour to get dressed?" I teased.

She astonished me by bringing her hands up to cup her breasts, while the thumb and first finger of each hand squeezed a protruding nipple.

"I can get dressed in five minutes.  But there's something else I need to do before I leave."

The imp was back.

"Anything I can do to help?"

Her hands were still mauling her breasts.

"You've done quite enough already, thank you.  I have a vibrator, and it has fresh batteries in it.  I'll be fine.  And while we're on the subject, let me just say this.  While I'm going to make my daughter expose herself to as many boys as possible, there will be no women in your life until this all gets worked out.  You said fantasy is all you had.  Well, it's all you have again.  So make your goodbye to her memorable, because that memory is going to have to serve you for a long time."

I knew how to respond this time.

"Yes, Ma'am."

I was standing in the hallway that led to the bedrooms.  Hannah was gone.  When she had "taken care of matters," she had come out of her bedroom looking radiant and crisply asked, "How long do you need?"

I thought about it.

"Can you give us two or three hours?"

She paled, and her facade of confidence sagged.

"You can go for two or three hours?"

I grinned, but then let her off the hook. "Not the whole three hours.  But I also don't do wham, bam, thank you ma'am, either.  I think we'll start with a shower together, and then move on to -"

She held up a hand, palm facing me, and interrupted.

"Too much information, Bob!  I don't need to know the details.  Three hours it is.  I'll go to the library or something."

"Thanks," I said.

Her color and confidence were back.  She was a handsome woman.  Caitlin only had her nose and lips, but they were both beautiful.

"No, thank you," she said. "I meant what I said last night.  I think this whole thing is crazy, and that hearts will be broken, but I will always be glad her first time was with you, as strange a thing as that is for a mother to say."

"You're welcome," I said, unable to think of any other response.

"I'm leaving now," she said.

"Okay," I responded.

"Is that all I get from my big brother, the last time he's going to see me for probably years?"

"Oh," I said, standing up.  "Sorry."

My intent was just to hug her, but that little imp popped out of me again and, within the space of only one or two seconds, my intent changed radically. 

I hugged her, yes, but I also kissed her.  On the lips.  And I grabbed her ass with both hands and squeezed her buns while I kissed her.  She was so startled that her lips opened and my tongue darted between her teeth as my hands slid up her back to pull her hard against me.

And then she was kissing me back, with just as much passion.  I couldn't help it.  The animal in me came out and my hands slid around her sides toward her breasts.

Then she was pushing me away, panting, her eyes wild.

"No, that's enough," she said.  "You save that for Caitlin."

"Fair enough," I said, grinning.  "See you in my dreams."

"You save them for Caitlin too, you bastard."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said, still grinning.

Then that brash confidence sagged again.

"Be good, Bobby. She loves you."

"I will.  Now go on, before I'm tempted to molest you again."

She surprised me by leaning in for another kiss.  This one was very tender, almost reluctant.  When she pulled back there were tears in her eyes.

"I should have fucked your balls off when I was fourteen," she whispered.

Then she turned, wiping her eyes, and walked out of the door.

Which brings us back to me, standing in the hallway, trying to decide how to proceed.  I had three hours, which seemed like a long time.  Until you considered it was the last three hours I'd have with her for the foreseeable future.

I lifted my right arm and sniffed my armpit.

Yeah, a shower was a good idea.

I left my clothes in the guest bedroom, and went to the bathroom.  The house was probably forty or fifty years old.  When they built them back then, one bathroom for three bedrooms was the norm.  Maybe "primp" time, back in those days, was a little less lengthy.  Then again, the bathroom in this house was huge, compared to the cubicles they put into houses these days.  There was both a bathtub and a shower enclosure, and a long shelf on one wall that held three sinks.  It had obviously been renovated, since the lower walls were all marble and the faucets were modern, but it appeared as though, in this family, everybody used the bathroom at the same time.  Or could, anyway.  Maybe when the house was built, families did that then, too.  Used the bathroom at the same time, I mean.  Privacy issues have changed radically since I was a kid.  I know that.

Anyway, I turned on the water in the shower and got it adjusted to just a little warmer than body temperature.

Then I went to Kat's room and flipped the covers off of her sleeping body.

I was delighted to find she was naked.

There were a couple of bumps along the fantasy path I was trying to walk, at first.  By that, I mean I had this idea of how it would go. I'd wake her up and whisk her off to the shower, where we would play and get excited and the passion would build until we didn't want to play any more, and then we'd get to the main event.

Perhaps I was a little too effusive in my waking of her.  It's possible I should have coaxed more, and dragged less, on the way to the shower.  Maybe my armpits weren't as offensive as I thought, and that lying down and waking her slowly with kisses might have worked better.  I don't know.

What I did was shake the bed with my hands and yell, "Wake up, sleepy head!  Time's a wastin'!"

And then, as she sat up, startled and confused, I pulled on her arm.  I intended to pull her up to a standing position.  What happened instead was that she more or less fell off the bed.

"What are you doing?" she wailed, still groggy.

"It's time for your shower," I said, gleefully.

"I took a shower last night!" she objected.

"It's time for your morning shower," I said.  "With me," I added, sure that would snap her right out of it.

I think that's when she noticed I was naked.  I'm pretty sure she already knew she was naked.

"Are you crazy?" she whispered.

"Not in the slightest," I said.  "What I am is horny."

She perked up and looked at the window in her room.  I knew she was trying to figure out what time it was.

"Breakfast is over. Your dad is gone to work.  Your mother is out doing errands.  We're all alone!"  As I look back on it, I think I must have sounded like a little kid, announcing to his buddies that somebody forgot to lock the door to the candy store, and the proprietor was home in bed.

"So you want her to catch us again when she comes back home?  Don't you dare screw this up for us, Uncle Bob."

I gave a few seconds to mourn the plan that obviously wasn't working out, and went to plan B.

"Your mother and I had a talk.  She left on purpose, to give us time.  She said she'd be gone three hours."

She moved from "perked up" to "fully alert".

"You're telling me my mother said she was leaving for three hours so we could have sex?" Her voice sounded like I had just told her the moon really was made of green cheese.

I had wanted to delay this part, but it had to come to her attention eventually.

"It's actually so we have time to say our goodbyes.  I'm leaving when she gets back."

"Noooooo," she wailed.  "I don't want you to go.  You said you could stay three or four days.  You can't leave."

"It's for the best.  Being around each other is going to make us want to do this."  I stopped.  "Do what I had hoped this would be like, I mean.  You know what I mean.  I want to touch you and kiss you and hold you and make love, and unless your mother is willing to stay out of the house all day, that means we want all those things and can't do them.  It will be better if I just go.  It will be less frustrating."

"If Mom agreed to leave for three hours today, we could ask her to do that every day," said Caitlin.

I stared at her.

"Come on.  It's incredible that she did this once.  You can't ask her to just leave the house any time we want to hop in bed.  I can't ask her to do that.  It's not fair to her. She's already bending over backwards to accommodate us, and that's a miracle all by itself!"

She looked crestfallen, but then said, "I know.  It's just that I don't know what I'm going to do when you leave?"

"Talk to your mother.  She has ... um ... tools that might help you."

"What do you mean?"

I'd gotten myself into this corner, and I wanted out quickly.  Time was slipping by.

"She's got a vibrator.  She can help you get one too.  Now, are we going to talk about how sad all this is, or go take a shower together so I can rub my hands all over your luscious naked body?"

"My mother has a sex toy?" she gasped.

So much for my irresistible charm.

"Lots of women have them," I said.

"How do you know she has one?"

"Because she told me!" I exploded, frustrated that my fantasy was in shambles.  "Now.  Are we taking a shower or not?"

"We are!" she said.  "But I want to hear more about this conversation in which my mother told you she has a vibrator.  Deal?"

"Deal."

The shower rained down tiny drops of duct tape, apparently, because the shambles of my original fantasy about how things would go, quickly got drawn back together and mended.  I did rub my hands all over her naked body, and she reciprocated while we kissed.  I got a little impatient.  I wanted to do everything at once.  I wanted to kiss her, but I also wanted my lips on her nipples.  Then, as I sucked a nipple, and her hands came to the back of my head to urge me to keep doing that, I wondered if my knees would take kneeling so I could lick her pussy.  At the same time, I wanted my prick buried in her belly in the worst way.

To cut to the chase, I was a bit of a basket case.

Oddly, she was not.  Rather, she was quite purposeful in her actions, almost to the point of being ritualistic.  It was she who pulled us from the shower stall and, while I tried to continue doing everything at once, got us dried off.  It was she who led me to her bedroom, to her bed, and laid me on my back.

"You need to calm down," she said, putting one hand on my chest. 

I stared at her breasts.  I wanted to become the skin that covered them.  I had this short, insane fantasy in which I was suddenly inside her breast, and that when I spurted, it shot out of her nipples.

"You're too excited," she cooed.  "Let me help you."

The hand on my chest slid lower as she bent over, until it came to rest just above my pubic hair, as her mouth descended to envelope my cock. 

I groaned.  I knew it was going to be over way too soon, and I already grieved for the loss.

She crawled up onto the bed, her sucking mouth never leaving my prick, until she was on all fours between my spread legs.

"Oh ... Baby ... Honey ... Caitlin ... I'm gonna blow," I whined.

She dragged her lips up my shaft and over the sensitive crown and I lifted my hips.

"Let's not waste it," she said.  As if she'd practiced doing this hundreds of times, she crawled up and, with her breasts hanging just above my face, notched the tip of my penis in her sex and sat down on it.

She only got to wiggle for maybe five or six seconds before I blew her pussy full of sticky jism.

And, rather than being cured of my mental malady, I wanted to keep coming, as if I could turn on a faucet, while I kissed her and sucked her nipples, all at the same time.

All I got was the kisses, though.  Our faces were fastened together as if we'd smeared our lips with rubber cement.  All I could do to her nipples was find them with my fingers and massage them, as she finally let her own passion out.  Her milkmaid muscles milked frantically and she whined into my mouth as my penis coughed and spat and then said, "Stick a fork in me, I'm done." 

That kiss went on and on, until those internal muscles, still flexing in the aftermath of her orgasm, pushed me out of her.  She finally pulled her lips from mine and sat up, crushing my useless sexual organ.

"That was okay," she panted softly.  "For starters."

"I am helpless in your presence," I admitted.

"Good," she said.  "That's as it should be."

"I shouldn't have cum in you," I said.

"I believe I should be the judge of that," she said.

"Your mother is going to put you on the pill," I said.

"Why?  If you're leaving, I won't need it."

"You're going to have to go on dates," I said.

"No I'm not."

"Yes ... you are," I said, firmly.  "Hannah and I have an agreement.  You will proceed with your senior year of high school as if you have no boyfriend."

"Bullshit," she said.  "It should be obvious that I do have a boyfriend."  She lifted her hands and pointed both index fingers at our naked bodies.

"The point is that the social interaction that occurs during dating is an important and normal part of growing up to be a well-rounded human being," I said.  "And just because we've been doing adult things does not mean you're an adult.  I love you.  I'll always love you, but you are seventeen.  You need to be seventeen and do the things normal seventeen year old girls do."

"So my mother is going to put me on the pill so I can have sex with boys at school."  She sounded disgusted.

"Both of us sincerely hope that does not happen," I said.

"What if it does?" she asked.

"Then you will learn something from it," I said.

"Such as?"

"For one thing, you'll find out whether you feel guilty about cheating on me or not," I said.  "For another, you'll find out if you can fall in love with another man.  These things happen in real life, Caitlin.  They happen to people all the time, and those people have to deal with the ramifications of their actions.  You can't just lock yourself in a room until you're eighteen and then come out and resume your relationship with me.  It won't work that way.  You need to live your life.  And when the time is right, we can be together again.  If that's still what you want."

"That is so much bullshit," she snorted.  "I love you.  I've loved you for almost as long as I can remember.  I wanted you to touch me before I really understood what sex even meant.  Why do you think I did what I just did?  I can't wait to have your baby."

"It would be crazy to have a baby right now!" I yelled.

"Of course it would!" she yelled back.  "I don't mean I want to get pregnant right now.  I mean I can't wait until this year is over and I'm in college, where nobody thinks a thing about it if you go to classes pregnant."

"It's not that easy," I groaned.

"I know that too," she shot back.  "All I'm saying is that I know we have a future together.  I don't know what it will be like, exactly, or when it will start, exactly, or how it will work.  I just know it's out there, and I'm impatient to get it going. Okay?"

I let the silence calm us both for a while.

"Okay," I finally said.  "But you shouldn't have let me cum in you."

She leaned over and put her face above mine.

"You think I'm not aware of how getting pregnant would screw things up for us? We've been having sex for three days.  I won't be ovulating for eight days.  I love you.  I love feeling you cum in me.  I love cumming, knowing your sperm is deep inside me.  I crave the feeling of your sperm in me.  I love thinking about the day that I am ovulating, and I let you cum in me.  But right now, the chances of you knocking me up are pre-e-etty slim, bucko."

"And I love you.  I love you enough that I want you to have all the experiences a young woman should have during her rite of passage into the adult world.  The thought of getting you pregnant makes my balls ache, as they try to make more and more sperm for you.  But calendars and cycles and expectations based on the past don't always work.  Look at all those huge Catholic families."

She sat back up. 

"I only have three hours with you. She looked over at the clock on her night stand.  "Two hours and thirty-five minutes," she corrected.  "I don't want to spend that arguing.  I don't want to spend it talking about how I have to go out with boys I don't want to be alone with, to please you and my mother.  I want to spend it making love with the man I adore.  If you're not going to do that, then you need to go ahead and leave.  This is hard enough for me as it is.  Don't make it harder by holding back the only thing I want right now."

Then she got off of me and left the room, turning toward the bathroom.

I was right.  I found her in the bathroom, brushing her hair.  I noticed a couple of wads of toilet paper floating in the commode, and assumed she'd wiped up my spend as it drained out of her.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"You sure are," she responded, darkly.

"All we want is what's best for you."

"What's best for me is you," she snarled.

"Then I'll be there when the time is right," I said.

She turned to me.

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

"And do I really have to go on dates?"

"Tons of them," I said.  "You'll have fun.  Just tell the guys you don't do that kind of thing.  They'll be disappointed, but you'll find out who likes you for you, and who just wants to get into your panties."

"What if I don't wear panties," she said, and I realized she was perking up, trying to tease me.

"I hope you do," I said, seriously.

"And what about you?" she asked. "Are you going to go out with tons of women?"

"Don't be ridiculous," I said. 

"If I'm supposed to go on dates, why aren't you?"

"Because I did that already, and you have not. ”

She stood there, naked and beautiful.  I could see the gears turning inside her head.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay?"

"I'll do it.  I'll play your stupid little games.  I have time to kill until the world will let me have what I want, and I'll kill it the way you think I should.  But don't blame me if things get all screwed up."

"Such as?"

"Such as what happens if I actually do meet some boy I end up liking, and I get carried away because I'm so horny?"

"Then you decide between him and me," I said.

"I can't have you both?  That doesn't seem very fair."

I realized I'd just been had.  I spoke with exaggerated drama in my voice.

"Perhaps you should try mine once more, so you can remember what a real man feels like.  Then, should you have some terrible loss of control, you'll realize in the middle of it that you are unsatisfied ... nay disgusted ... by the inept actions of some little boy, with his little boy penis, and vow never to let that happen again.  Then you'll remain chaste until you can have the real McCoy once more."

She put the brush down.

"I'm already disgusted with the thought of some boy showing me his penis.  But I agree that I should avail myself of the penis at hand, before it is tragically ripped away from me."

I winced.

"Let's not rip anything, okay?"

"Then I'll suck it again," she said, stepping toward me.  "How about that?"

"Oh, I approve," I sighed.

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>