The Babe Bike Blues

by Lubrican

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8-21 & Epilogue Available On

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Chapter Seven

Dinner was Italian. They were not dressed like the other customers in the upscale bistro, but neither cared. They were put in a booth right by the kitchen door, but didn't care about that either. There was little talk while they ate. Bob told her what he'd learned about her parents' treatment. She was subdued.

When they got to the rooms, her listlessness evaporated like magic when she realized he'd gotten her her own room.

"I'm n-n-not stay-y-ying in h-h-here al-l-lone!" she said loudly.

"It's for the best, baby," he pleaded.

"W-w-why?" she almost shouted.

Bob groaned. He knew this girl and he knew how stubborn she could be when she got fired up. He didn't need her getting fired up, but he also didn't need anything else to happen between them.

"Look, sweetie, I love you. You know that. So I just want you to trust me when I tell you it's better if we're not staying in the same room. I mean you need your privacy sometimes, and I keep forgetting to tell you when I'm coming out of the bathroom and stuff like that. And I'll be right next door to you if you need me, or want to talk or something. Please give it a try. I'm sure it will be more comfortable for both of us."

Jennifer lay in bed, staring at the TV set. She wasn't interested in anything that was on. She wasn't quite so worried about her parents anymore. They looked horrible, but they were breathing and everybody seemed to think they'd be all right. She knew it would take a long time for them to get better, and that she'd have to help a lot, but she didn't care about that. They were alive and they'd be OK.

Her mind was currently working furiously on something else anyway.

At first she'd been hurt that Bob wouldn't let her stay in his room. It was tempting to think that he didn't want to be around her, but she knew that wasn't true. She knew he loved her. That was the problem. She loved him, too, and she wanted to be around him. So why was he acting this way?

She didn't buy all that privacy crap. Sure there had been a few accidents, where he saw things he wasn't supposed to see. Except that she didn't really care if he saw them. That gave her pause for thought too. She was quite sure that if any OTHER man had seen between her legs like that, that she would have been mortified. But she wasn't...when it was Bob. She was sure that was because she loved him so much. She was also sure he'd liked seeing her like that. She'd seen it in his face. She might not have much experience with men, but the look on his face that morning had spoken volumes.

So why was he making her stay in her own room?

She looked at the door in the wall. Bob was on the other side of it. It didn't have a slot for her card. It took a regular key to open it. He'd said she could still talk to him if she needed to, but he hadn't unlocked that door. She couldn't understand why he'd put that barrier between them.

She lay there, replaying in her mind what had happened during the past twenty-four hours. He'd caught her watching that movie. She knew he'd seen her hand in her panties. That had been embarrassing and scary, but he hadn't punished her — he'd hugged her.

They'd slept together. She knew that wasn't what people meant when they said someone was sleeping with someone else, but those people didn't understand how important this man was to her. She would have gone crazy without him if she'd had to do all this by herself.

She remembered her dream. She remembered waking up and seeing Uncle Bob standing there with his penis big and long and hard in his underwear. She hadn't had time to think about what that meant...until now. What DID that mean?

She reviewed what she knew about penises. Most of it, quite honestly, came from Bambi Bangs Baltimore. A penis was soft, at first, until a man wanted to have sex. Then a woman played with it and it got hard. Then they had sex for a long time, changing positions several times, probably because it was uncomfortable or something, and eventually the penis squirted and got soft again.

She blinked. Who had played with Bob's penis to get it all hard like that? And he hadn’t had sex with anybody, but when he came out of the bathroom, it had been soft again. Except that when he saw her pussy, it started to get hard again.

She closed her eyes and remembered the look of that long, thick line in his underwear. He HAD been hard. She was sure of that. But if he was hard that meant he wanted to have sex, and there was nobody in the room to have sex with...

Her eyes popped open and she stopped breathing. SHE had been the only woman in the room! Uncle Bob had wanted to have sex with HER!

In the room next door, Bob was also lying on the bed with the TV on.

He'd gotten into bed with the idea of letting the TV lull him to sleep. He had flipped through the channels until he hit a public TV station that was showing a documentary on the D-Day invasion of Normandy. He let himself get caught up in the images of thousands of planes, ships and men all rushing hell bent into the kind of danger he understood. Or thought he'd understood. He was appalled at the images of men trying to land under withering fire, and amazed at the bravery of those who kept moving forward while others dropped all around them. His heartbeat increased to twice its normal rate as the pictures and the voice of the narrator mesmerized him.

It was for that reason, and perhaps because the TV was providing the only light in the room, that he didn't see the door connecting his room to Jennifer's swing open. It wasn't until she tossed her pillow onto the bed beside him that he was aware he wasn't alone. That pillow landing beside him also startled him so much he jerked and yelped. He looked up to see Jennifer standing beside the bed. She had on the same long T shirt she'd worn the night before.

"Shit, Jen!" he barked. "You scared the crap out of me!" He blinked. "How did you get in here?"

She turned and pointed at the connecting door, which was standing open now.

"I w-w-went to th-th-the d-d-desk and g-g-got the k-k-key."

She seemed subdued, somehow. She was standing with her arms at her sides, almost stiffly.

"Why didn't you just come knock on my door?" he asked.

"B-b-because I was in-n-n my n-n-night g-g-gown," she said.

Bob was unsettled enough that he missed the fact that if she wasn't willing to go in the hallway in her "nightgown," she surely hadn't gone down to get the key to the connecting door in it, which meant she could have knocked then. All he thought about was that she had appeared so suddenly.

"Is anything wrong?"

"I d-d-don't know," she said. "M-m-maybe."

He started to sit up and then remembered that one of the benefits of having separate rooms was that he could sleep like he usually slept...nude. He thought better of letting the covers drop from his chest to his lap by sitting up.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked, not sure of anything else to say.

She nodded.

"OK," he said. "Turn on a light and I'll turn the TV off and we'll talk."

"C-c-can we l-l-leave the l-l-lights off?" she asked.

That puzzled Bob, initially, until he remembered some of the things they'd "talked" about recently...things that could embarrass her.

"Sure," he said. His natural reaction was to press the red button on the remote and the room suddenly went pitch black. He patted the bed beside him and said, "You can sit here, by me."

He was completely unprepared when, instead of sitting beside him, she lifted the covers, like she had the night before, and slid in next to him. She didn't hug him, as she had before. She lay on her back beside him, in fact, and only her elbow and hip touched him.

"Um, Jen!" he said softly. "I'm not exactly dressed."

"Y-y-you weren't d-d-dressed last n-n-night either," she replied.

"Well, I'm even less dressed tonight," he said. "That's part of that privacy I was talking about. That's how I usually sleep."


She was quiet for long enough that Bob got nervous. Her voice sounded different tonight. He couldn't put his finger on exactly how it was different, but he knew it was. Maybe she was still upset about him making her stay in her own room. Except that she wasn't in her own room. She was in his room. And he wasn't prepared for her to be there.

"I'll get up and put something on," he said.


"I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"I'm n-n-not."

It was quiet again for what seemed like ten minutes, but was really only forty-five seconds. During that time, though, Bob's brain reflected on the fact that she knew he was naked, and didn't care. She hadn't gotten out of the bed. She hadn't rolled away from him. He felt himself get erect in what seemed like record time and that scared him. He needed to get this girl out of his bed. The only way he could think of was getting her to talk out whatever was on her mind, so he could tell her to go back to her room.

" said you wanted to talk about something," Bob prodded.

Another fifteen seconds of silence got him worried, and then she spoke.

"Y-y-you said w-w-we c-c-could t-t-talk about an-n-nything...right?"

Bob felt something like fear begin to nibble at his consciousness. A true warrior knows that fear is not a sign of weakness. It's a natural reaction to a dangerous situation. But fear creates energy. One of the things a true warrior learns is how to channel that energy into something that could, hopefully, be used to lessen the danger. In this case, the danger was something that sounded entirely too open-ended to Bob.

"I did," he admitted, carefully. It was quiet for another fifteen seconds.

"I h-h-have a p-p-prob-b-blem," she finally said.

"OK," he said noncommittally.

"It'," she said.

"This." Bob was confused.

"Uh huh."

"This," Bob said again. His confusion was apparent.

"B-b-being in b-b-bed with y-y-you," she explained.

Bob just said what came into his mind. "I can understand that," he said. "That's why I got you your own room."

"N-n-no," she said, sounding patient. "Wh-wh-when I w-w-was in b-b-bed with y-y-you last n-n-night..." She moved her arms and legs before she went on. "I...I...I l-l-liked it."

Bob's mind viewed that comment from several directions at once. He could understand, on an innocent level, how it's nice to be cozy in a warm bed with another person. He remembered, however, her pussy rubbing on his thigh and her hand resting on his prick, neither of which was on the innocent side of the equation. And that led him to think about how much HE had enjoyed being in bed with her, too, even though he was not proud of what he'd been thinking about while he enjoyed it. He was not proud that his stiff prick was jerking around under the sheet right now either.

His problem was that he wasn't sure how many ways SHE was looking at this. It was more difficult than he thought it should be, but he took the high road and decided to let HER figure things out.

"Do you know why you liked it?"

"I th-th-think so," she said softly.

"Because it makes you feel safe," he suggested hopefully.

She was quiet for a long time and then she finally spoke.

"I d-d-don't think th-th-that's it."

The feeling of danger got stronger. It was like he could almost smell danger, somehow. He didn't know what to do now. He couldn't think of any other innocent reasons she'd want to sleep in the same bed with him, particularly in light of her recent experimentation with things sexual. He felt precum seep through the shaft of his penis and almost said, "Behave yourself!" out loud.

"Then why?" he finally asked, for lack of anything else to say.

She moved and with the beginnings of his night vision he could see that she'd rolled to face him.

"It m-m-makes," she said.

Bob almost groaned, but managed to speak more or less normally.

"That's not a good thing, honey."

"B-b-but I l-l-like being ho-ho-horny," she moaned. "I l-l-love b-b-being on the b-b-bike now. I think I'm ad-d-dicted t-t-to it."

"You're not addicted," he said gently. "Yes, it feels good, and yes, it's fun to feel that way, but it's dangerous, too, especially when you're with me."

"B-b-but why?" she asked, her voice rising. "Y-y-you'd n-n-never h-h-hurt me!"

"No," he said firmly. "Not on purpose. But, baby, you don't understand. I feel things, too."

"Wh-wh-what k-k-kind of things?" He could hear the curiosity in her voice.

"Never mind that," he said, trying to avoid the issue. "The point is that when you're in bed with a man, ESPECIALLY when neither of you is fully dressed...well, things can happen. It's not on purpose or anything, I was having a dream or something, I might do something to you...thinking it was part of the dream."

"L-l-like wh-wh-what?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said miserably. "Like touch you or something."

"I d-d-don't m-m-mind if you t-t-touch me," she said. "Y-y-you t-t-touched me last n-n-night."

"That's not what I mean," he said, feeling completely incapable of having this conversation without scaring her half to death. "What if, say I rolled over and put my hand on your breast or something?"

It was very quiet and he was afraid he'd been too graphic.

"In y-y-your d-d-dream?" she asked.

"Well of course in my dream," he said. He wanted to get out of the bed and pace. Nervous energy was making him jumpy. The image of him stalking around with his unruly prick leading the way kept him firmly under the covers.

"I'd j-j-just w-w-wake you up," she said.

In Bob's defense, it must be noted that he was clearly in over his head. In any other situation like this, he'd be trying to talk the woman INTO sleeping with him, rather than trying to talk her out of it. His lack of experience in trying to do what he thought of as "the right thing" in this case, came into play.

"But you just said that sleeping with me makes you horny!"

"It d-d-does," she agreed.

"Then what if you decided you liked having my hand on your breast?"

"Th-th-then I w-w-wouldn't w-w-ake you up," she said reasonably.

"That's what I'm talking about, Jen!" he moaned, his thoughts fragmented. "You're not the only one who gets horny when we're in bed together. You were practically naked last night! I didn't know it then, but if I HAD, that boner I got would have lasted all night long!" He stopped suddenly. "Shit!" he said explosively. He hadn't meant to say anything about boners.

"Y-y-you g-g-got a b-b-boner?" Her voice was high.

"No," he said instinctively. "I don't know why I said that. I did NOT get a boner for you, Jen."

She moved again, toward the headboard, and he didn't understand what she was doing, until the light above the headboard blazed on as she turned a knob. He covered his eyes. It was silent while he let his eyes adjust by letting more and more light in through his fingers, until he could look at her. She was sitting up, looking down at him. He couldn't control his eyes and they dropped to see her nipples spiked, poking through her T shirt. He jerked his eyes away.

"D-d-don't lie t-t-to m-m-me," she said, her voice firm. "I'm t-t-trying t-t-to und-d-derstand th-th-this, and I c-c-can't if y-y-you l-l-lie to m-m-me."

He left his fingers over his eyes.

"I can't just tell you I got a hardon for you," he moaned. He certainly couldn't tell her he had one at that very moment, and that it had developed as soon as she’d gotten in bed with him.

"Wh-wh-why n-n-not?" she asked.

"Because you're Jennifer!" he yelped. "You're my best friend's daughter. You're just a kid! It's wrong for me to want to do things to you! I feel bad enough already for what happened on the bike and..."

"STOP!" she yelled.

He did, and peeked through his fingers at her. She looked angry.

"I'm n-n-not a child," she said, with as much dignity as she could. "I l-l-like how I f-f-feel wh-wh-when I s-s-sleep with y-y-you. I d-d-don't w-w-want t-t-to s-s-sleep alone! I'm n-n-not asking y-y-you t-t-to have s-s-sex with me!"

"Jeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnn," he moaned. "Don't you get it? I'm afraid I won't be able to CONTROL myself!"

"B-b-bullshit!" she snapped.

He snapped, too. He was whipping the covers off of them both before he could stop himself. Then, when he realized how much he was fucking up, he got mad. It was the anger that made him speak the words he did then.

"It's NOT bullshit!" he growled as his stiff penis came into view. "See what you do to me, Jen? SEE!?"

It was about then that it registered in his mind that she was sitting Indian style. She had done that after turning on the light, and the covers had been around her waist. They weren't now, and the fact that, once again, she wasn't wearing any panties, became painfully clear to both of them.

Jen blinked, staring at his erection, and moved one hand, almost unconsciously, to shield her sex. All that did was bring her hand into contact with her pussy, though, as she suddenly understood something for the first time in her life. What she understood was that the man she got horny for was horny for her too. That sounds simple to most of us. But Jennifer had never been in love at the same time she was in lust and she realized, quite clearly in this instant, that that was what was going on here.

Her hand pushed, putting pressure on her pussy now, instead of protecting it. Quite suddenly, Jennifer Brazelton wasn't at all sure she WANTED to protect her pussy.

Oddly enough, the fact that Jennifer had gotten into bed with him with no panties on—again—had almost the opposite effect on Bob.

Bob had plenty of experience with predatory women. He was, especially without his bushy beard, quite appealing to a lot of women. Some of them had plans for Bob Jefferson that he wasn't interested in. Usually the plans involved marriage, or revenge against a man who had hurt the woman. In such cases Bob's libido raised a defense that left him completely in control of his manhood. His thought processes just naturally interpreted Jennifer's actions as an attempt to TRY to get him to fuck her.

That didn't last long, because his rational mind laughed at that idea almost immediately, but it lasted long enough that he wrested control from his gonads and began to think clearly again. He viewed this situation as a somewhat thorny educational opportunity now, and the warrior in him began to use all that energy surging through his body to that end.

"I'm sorry," he said, pulling the covers back over his hips. "That's a very good example of how a man can sometimes do something he wouldn't do if he was thinking more clearly." He moved more of the bedspread to cover Jennifer's hand. She didn't remove it from between her legs, though. Her lower jaw was sagging open a bit and she looked a little stunned.

"The fact is, honey, that you're a very beautiful and desirable young woman, and I'd bet almost any man would react like I did. That's why you need to be careful about getting into situations that can get out of control. That's why I got you your own room. I knew I was attracted to you, and I suspected that all these new feelings were playing havoc with your own emotions. I got you your own room so that we wouldn't have to worry about anything happening that we'd regret. I love you too much to ruin what we have together."

As so often happens when a man says something to a woman, it was like so much errant wind wafting around in the motel room. It's not really accurate to say she didn't hear a word he said. What's closer to the truth is that all his words did was fuel the flame that had burst into existence inside Jennifer.

Jennifer was finally caught up in that storm of hormones that all teenage women get embroiled in sooner or later. And, as any meteorologist will tell you, storm systems are complicated and unpredictable. In the usual circumstances, the girl is with a boy who she likes, but doesn't know all that well. It's a little easier to put on the brakes in that situation, though sometimes those brakes fail.

In this case, though, Jennifer was with a man she knew quite well and already loved. Her emotions fired, like the starter gun at the beginning of the hundred yard dash, signaling "GO!" And, as happens in a storm, the wind of her passions whipped some of his words away, while leaving others. What Jennifer heard Bob saying was something like this: "Baby, I love you. You're gorgeous and I'm hot for you. See how hot I am for you? I want you so much I'm out of control."

The memory of that thick stalk she'd gotten a glimpse of wasn't at all scary. Her education told her what it was for and that things like she'd just seen had been used for their intended purpose for millions of years. People had sex all the time and were rumored to love it. Bob wanted to have sex with her and, quite suddenly, she wanted to have sex with Bob.

To be fair to Jennifer, it wasn't like she just wanted to have sex. Had any other man been there, it would have been completely different. But it was Bob who was there...the man she had adored for years...the man she'd had her arms wrapped around as she had dozens of orgasms in the last two days...the man she knew she loved, and who she knew loved her.

At the same time, she knew, subconsciously, that she couldn't just "have sex with Bob." She didn't know HOW to have sex, and at least a little of his resistance had registered in her mind. So the goal now was to stay here, in this bed, with this naked man, so that exciting things could be allowed to happen.

She reached for the hem of her T shirt and pulled quickly, dragging it up and over her head. She shook her hair out automatically as the shirt tousled it. Her eyes watched Bob's face. She saw his jaw drop. She saw his eyes widen. She saw him stop breathing. Before he could say anything, she reached for the light switch again, returning the room to darkness.

Then she burrowed under the covers, crawling half on top of him. The heat of his skin was like fire as she rubbed her naked breasts against his chest and shoulder. Her nipples felt like they might explode, like popcorn. She threw one leg over him and ground her pussy into the hard muscle of his thigh. Her lips sought not for his cheek this time, but for his mouth. She felt giddy relief as she found it wasn't hanging open any more, which let her push against soft, yielding flesh, instead of kissing his teeth. She hoped she was doing this right. She'd never kissed a man before. Not on the lips.

What she felt, in a general all over sense, at this moment, was the perfection of being naked with the man she loved...of feeling his skin caressing hers, and of being so horny that she thought she might die from happiness.

Bob, of course, viewed things from a slightly different perspective.


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