The Chaperone Blues

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Chapter Three

Somehow Claire got back to sleep, but again she dreamed.

This time it was a dream about her daughter, who walked into the kitchen, her belly enormous, as if it held more than one baby.

"Morning, Mom," she said brightly.

In her dream, Claire turned to her daughter and said, "It looks like there's another one in there this morning."

"Yeah," sighed Lori. "Bobby fucked another one in me last night. I think that makes four. I may have to have a  c-section."

They were interrupted by Bobby, who came strutting into the kitchen stark naked, his lusty huge erection straining out into the air in front of him. It was the size of a fire hydrant and was red and angry looking.

"Morning, Mother," he said grinning widely. "Are you ready to make your morning baby?"

Claire looked down at her dream belly, which was just as gravid as Lori's was. She screamed...

And jerked awake. The bed shivered. Everyone else was still sleeping. She hadn't screamed out loud.

What's WRONG with me? she cried in her mind. She staggered out of bed and went to the bathroom. Closing the door she turned on the light and leaned on the sink, staring into the mirror. Her face looked haggard and drawn. She splashed some water on her face. The cool of it felt good.

She turned to her travel case, which she had put in the bathroom earlier and opened it. She got out a sleeping pill and swallowed it.

Claire didn't dream again that night. But when she awoke it was to multiple sensations. She didn't know why she had awakened just then. She was still horny. And, she was cuddled up to Chuck, her head on his shoulder, her hair covering her face. She had twin feelings of her hand, lying on something soft...cloth...with something firm under it. As she thought about where her hand had to be, she realized it was on his morning erection. At the same time she felt his fingers on her wrist. She felt him lifting her hand...moving it...letting it fall on his flat, hard stomach.

She lifted her head. "I'm so sorry," she half whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "I took a pill...I had dreams...I'm so sorry," she began to sob quietly.

"Hey," he said into her hair. "Take it easy. It's OK. I just didn't think you'd want to wake up and find your hand...there." He kissed her hair. "Don't cry."

She felt better for knowing that he hadn't removed her hand because he didn't want it there. She felt worse because she knew she wasn't going to be able to control her urges.

"Thank you," she said. "But I don't know WHAT I want anymore."

His fingers went back to her wrist and lifted her hand again. Amazed, she felt him return it to the lump of stiffness under his shorts and drape it over his erection.

"There," he said. "All better?"

Claire felt her fingers curl around the stiff column of flesh before she could stop them. She squeezed gently before sliding her hand upward, off his hard-on. In the process her hand slid under his shirt, onto his hot skin.

"We don't even know each other," she whispered, feeling much better for having been able to take her hand away from what she wanted to feel.

"We can get to know each other," he suggested.

"I'm almost afraid to get to know you," she responded. "I'm already about to let you do something I swore I'd never let a man do again."

"That's a good thing," he whispered back. "That means you're making progress...working through your issues."

She couldn't help but smile and tried to pinch his skin. It was surprisingly difficult to get anything between her fingers. She ended up tickling him instead.

Chuck jerked and batted at her hand, clamping his on it and stopping her. He rolled slightly as he let go and her hand slid to his side. There were no love handles there. The hand he'd used came to her hair and whisked it away from her face.

"I'm going to kiss you now, Claire," he whispered.

"OK," she surrendered. It was an instant, unthinking surrender that made her feel better somehow before he even touched her.

It was a kiss to write home about. Neither of them cared about the morning breath, or the teenagers in the bed on the floor next to them. They just felt each other through their lips and experienced it.

Claire reluctantly pulled away from his lips. "What about your girlfriend?" she asked.

"What girlfriend?" he replied. "I'm too busy with teaching and football to have a girlfriend."

He kissed her again and she pressed her body against his, her arms going around him, pulling him tightly against her. Despite her raging emotions her passion surprised and even scared her a little.

When it was over Claire buried her face in his chest. "I'm in so much trouble," she said. Her hand slid to his buttocks and inside his shorts to grip a glute.

"I'm the teacher," he whispered back. "Why don't you let me decide whether you're in trouble or not."

She removed her hand from his shorts and put it on his chest. "Not now. Not yet. Not with the kids here. I can't."

He took her hand and kissed her fingertips. "Take all the time you need. I'm a very patient man."

He rolled away from her and bounded out of bed, heading for the bathroom.

Claire rolled over too, to face the other bed.

What she saw was Bobby's open eyes staring at her. He was up on one elbow, obviously looking up and over the edge of the higher bed she was in. Lori's lifted head was above his and she was staring at her mother too.

Lori spoke. "Mommy? What are you DOING?!"

Claire was quite familiar with how children viewed—or rather attempted NOT to view—the sexuality of their parents. She remembered the first time her father had, at the breakfast table, come up behind her mother, reaching around her to cup her breasts and kiss her on the neck. Claire had been dumbfounded, expecting her mother to slap at his hands and tell him what a terrible man he was. Instead she had let her head fall to one side to give his lips more access. Claire had been fourteen at the time, and had actually shivered with revulsion at the blatant sexual play of her parents. Parents didn't have SEX! Ewwwwww!

Of course she hadn't said anything. And, as she began to watch her parents more closely, she saw many other times when they touched each other in ways that made it quite clear they were sexual beings...and happy in those roles. She had made the adjustment to being able to...let...her parents be normal. It had awakened her own lusts.

So Claire had some idea of what was going through her daughter's mind.

And her reaction to that was a mixed bag of sympathy for her daughter and anger that, at a time when she might just have accidentally found something that could make her very happy, her daughter might try to stop that. If she'd had more time to process events, she might have spoken with a little less heat in her voice, or perhaps, might not have spoken at all.

But speak she did.

"Whatever I'm doing, it isn't as bad as what you and Bobby were doing last night."

She hadn't meant to approach this little problem at either this time or in quite this way, but it was too late. She saw Lori's face go pale in the morning light and Bobby swallowed.

Bobby started to say something—probably a denial—and Claire cut him off.

"We'll discuss this later. This is neither the time nor the place."

As happens in a lot of confrontations between parent and child, Claire felt the need to do something, or go somewhere—to break the initial contact while she had the upper hand. Had she been at home she could have begun dinner, or gone to her room, or snatched up a hamper to start laundry; anything to make it obvious that she had other things to do and would take up the subject at hand when SHE was ready.

But here, in this motel room, there WAS no dinner to make or laundry to do. She got out of bed, but there was no place for her to go. Without thinking—or perhaps because she was thinking too MUCH—she grabbed her clothes out of her suitcase and stormed...more or less...into the bathroom to change.

She had completely forgotten the bathroom was already occupied.

Chuck was standing at the sink running his fingers through a patch of hair that he suspected was beginning to be contaminated with gray hairs. He was much too young for that to happen, but suspected it anyway. After taking care of his overfull bladder, he had stripped down to take a shower and was waiting for the water to get warm. When the door opened he automatically turned toward it.

Claire's first impression was that the light was on. Who had gone off and left the light on? That wasted energy! That was immediately followed by her mind trying to process the fact that there was a naked man, with a decidedly thick and manly penis, standing in the bathroom.

The realization that it was Chuck was part and parcel of the smile that bloomed on his face as he assumed she had rethought her resistance and had decided to join him in the bathroom intentionally. His smile wasn't a leer. It was, in fact, genuine happiness that this beautiful woman had decided to grace him with her company.

Claire's unconscious brain recorded this information, tweaked an organ that produced a particular hormone, so as to increase that hormonal level in her bloodstream, and then made several Claire's psyche and physiology.

Claire's conscious brain was horrified. She was three quarters of the way through the door when she stopped.

"OH!" she said.

Chuck looked confused. His mind was beginning to register the shock on her face and recognize that his initial belief that she had decided to come and join him might be less than well founded.

"Close the door, you're letting out all the heat," he said, for lack of anything else to say.

Claire, being an adult, and a mother, who was quite used to thinking in just those terms closed the door...behind her. She stared at the naked man facing her.

"Well," said Chuck, relaxing when she didn't scream or anything. "This is a little awkward."

Something made Chuck want to treat this like it was just a minor social gaff. He, too, had been unaccountably happy when he woke up to find Claire Richardson cuddled up against him. That her hand had been lying lightly on his manhood had just been the frosting on the cake. Chuck really HAD been too busy with school to have much of a social life. He'd taken a few of the unattached female teachers out on dates, but most of them had been set up by other teachers who wanted to match-make, and hadn't turned out to be anything near long term situations. He didn't have a particularly high sex drive, and the fantasies he masturbated to occasionally were satisfaction enough that he wasn't impatient to find a warm pussy to call his own. In his experience, warm pussies were often attached to clinging women who wanted themselves to be the primary focus of his attention.

But Claire Richardson was a woman who aroused his interest. It had been a given that she was beautiful and successful. He could see that when he met her. Since then, though, he had noticed her buoyant capacity to be girlish, even though her routine demeanor was mature. She took obvious joy in her children, who were good kids, something teachers appreciated. He sensed in her a smoldering passion that he suspected would be spectacular if it were ever unleashed. He saw glimpses of that as she enjoyed the combat between teenage warriors on the field.

Chuck didn't know if anything could develop with this fascinating woman, but he didn't want to just let things get strained, or uncomfortable. And so he opted to treat the events of the last few hours as something slightly off normal, but cute—one of those things you tell stories about later in life and laugh at.

"It's amazing," he said, turning back to the mirror and fiddling with his hair, as if her sudden entrance was nothing more than a minor distraction, "how underdressed someone can feel in a bathroom."

"Oh damn, I'm sorry. I forgot you were in here," said Claire, somehow more upset that he was apparently ignoring her than she was that he was stark naked and she was standing with him in a motel bathroom. "I had to yell at the kids and then I wanted to get away from them and..."

Claire's voice trailed off. She lost her train of thought as her mind caught up to the situation. She WAS standing in a motel bathroom with a naked man! And the man was looking in the mirror instead of at her! And hadn't he just said something about how he was if SHE were OVERDRESSED?

"What's going on with the kids?" he asked, leaning closer to the mirror to stretch at the bags under his eyes.

"You're naked," squeaked Claire.

Chuck smiled and turned to face the woman again. "What was your first clue?" he grinned. Then he suggested, "I suspect you've seen men in my condition before this. Don't worry about it. I was about to take a shower, but I can wait if you want to go first."

What went through Claire's mind was an imaginary scene in a movie in which she and Chuck were the stars. She saw herself dropping her silk pajamas on the floor and Chuck holding the shower curtain open for her to step into the tub. She saw her naked body brush up against his as she entered the shower. She felt his hands sliding over her soapy body as he washed her.

The tingle of her nipples crinkling brought Claire out of her short fantasy and all the feelings she had felt lying next to this man in bed rushed back to overwhelm her. She looked helplessly at the man she'd only known for a few days. She was so turned on she was actually vibrating, her whole body shaking with tension. She shouldn't be here. Not with a naked man. Not with THIS naked man. Her children were right outside. They KNEW she was in here with this man. She should leave immediately…but she didn't WANT to leave.

"I don't know what to do," she said in a little girl voice. She suddenly felt very much like a little girl. She was perilously close to crying again.

Chuck left the sink and came over to her. She looked into his eyes and felt her will to resist draining away.

"Do you want to take a shower?" he asked softly.

The remembered fragments of the shower scene in her fantasy bubbled up in Claire's mind and she nodded. Almost without her own volition her voice said, "Uh huh."

"The water should be warm by now," he suggested.

She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.

"You can't take a shower in your pajamas," he said.

He took the bundle of clothing from her hands and set it on the counter of the sink. His hands went to the big blue buttons of her silk pajamas and he began undoing them. He worked slowly, his hands dropping from each button, when it was loose, to the next one. Claire felt cool air flow against the skin between her breasts. She couldn't lift her hands for some reason and just stood there as his hands came to her shoulders and pushed the silk. It slid off, over her shoulders, and she could feel the caress of the cloth as it glided down her arms. His hands smoothed along the tops of her shoulders and down the outside of her arms.

Suddenly she was standing topless in a motel bathroom with a naked man.

A part of her brain noticed that he didn't ogle her naked breasts, with their stiffened nipples. Instead he gazed into her eyes as his hands slid, with a feather touch down her arms from her shoulders and moved to her hips, gripping the waistband of her pajama bottoms. Her eyes followed his as his head began to sink, and his eyes stayed locked onto hers as he went to one knee.

His eyes still locked onto hers, he began to pull her bottoms down until they were pooled at her feet. As if in a dream she lifted one foot and stepped sideways with it. She was acutely aware that when she did this, her naked, defenseless pussy was now open in front of this man. She began to tremble harder and felt an unaccountable sense of relief as he stood back up. She wanted him to hug her.

Instead, Chuck took her hand and led her to the tub. Just like in her fantasy he pulled the shower curtain back, making a doorway for her to step into the tub. His eyes had never left hers.

As she stepped into the tub Claire replayed the shower scene in her mind and pleasure shot through her as she anticipated the next part.

Her fantasy came to a jarring stop as, when she stepped into the tub, he stayed outside and let the curtain fall back to break the lock between their eyes.

"If you need any help, feel free to ask," came his deep voice from outside.

Claire blinked and realized she was wet. Then, and only then, did she feel the water beating against her shoulder and one breast. Mixed emotions of joy, anger, frustration and sexual passion raged through her mind and body. What kind of man WAS this? How could he DO this to her?

Claire's hand jerked to the shower curtain and she flung it open.

"Of COURSE I need your help, you...YOU...YOU MAN!" she barked.

It was then Claire noticed that, while she had been in a fog as her body was slowly made naked, Chuck's body had gone through a change. That heavy thick thing she had seen hanging between his legs when she first came into the bathroom was hanging no longer. Now it was pointing at her. It was the first erect penis Claire had seen in ten years and the effect it had on her was electric.

"Get IN here," she growled.

The rest of her shower went much more like her fantasy had. His fantasy was a bit more detailed than hers had been though.

In her fantasy she had felt his skin against hers, her breasts pushing into his chest and hands. She had left out the part where his mouth fastened on her aching nipples and sucked until she thought she'd go mad.

Her fantasy had included his hands sliding all over her slippery soapy body. His supplied the slippery friction of his prick gliding into her pussy as they stood in tight embrace. He was strong enough to, once he got her to spread her legs, squat between them, digging the tip of his cock into her famished pussy and then stand up, lifting her with the penetration of his penis until she had to stand on her tiptoes, her arms tightly around him to keep from falling backward.

Her fantasy hadn't included the overwhelming feeling of fullness...completeness that his thick penis caused in her unused sex, as it pressed against her along every inch of her delicate tissues. She hadn't realized how empty she had felt until she was full to overflowing.

And somehow her fantasy had left out his hot kisses, his tongue taking her breath away as he bounced on the balls of his feet, dangling her on his spike as her clit was punished by the base of his cock where it skewered her. Her mind kept trying to tell her this must be all a dream. Her body argued vociferously that it was very real.

Her orgasm left her so weak she couldn't even hold on to him anymore, but his strong arms around her waist only let her upper torso lean backwards, her arms hanging down slightly behind her, her head thrown back until her neck muscles complained. Warm water kissed her chin and splashed on her breasts.

In that position she felt him tense, and heard his groan of completion as she felt the fountain of his ejaculation deep inside her. Her passion was so sated that, even though she thought about the fact that she had stopped taking her birth control pills years and years and years ago, she couldn't possibly care less at this moment.

Claire's back began to complain and she mustered the effort to lean forward and press her breasts against his muscled chest again. Her face went into his chest and she was surprised to again feel the beat of warm water on her back as his hands slid upward to stroke her there.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," she mumbled into his chest.

"In that case, I'm really glad you don't have more self control," came her lover's response.

She looked up to meet his eyes for the first time since she’d dragged him into the tub and saw only warmth there. It thrilled her to the core.

"Me too," she said and kissed him.

Despite the incredible intimacy of what had just happened, there was an atmosphere of awkwardness between them as they separated and rewashed their bodies separately...hurriedly, with economy of movement.

It was cold outside the tub and she shivered again as he handed her a towel. It wasn't big enough, or fluffy enough, and she had a sudden wish that this had taken place in her own master bathroom...or maybe his.

"That's the first time something like that has ever happened to me," said Chuck conversationally, as he bent and dried his legs.

Claire felt the need to engage him in something other than sex. "I can't believe that," she said, thinking "You're much too handsome and...manly. I would have thought you do this...a lot."

"Yeah, well don't believe all the hype," he said, rubbing his penis briskly with the towel. "All this stud-muffin crap isn't at all what it's cracked up to be." He looked up and grinned. "We stud-muffins are quite often insecure and underappreciated."

"Well, I appreciate you," said Claire. She was shocked that she'd said that so blatantly and with such emotion.

"Thank you, Madame" he bowed to her. She smiled at the ridiculous formal motion, done by a naked man.

When he stood back up he said "Are you really OK?"

She felt another thrill go through her at the care in his question. She suddenly felt much more comfortable with him, which seemed exceedingly odd, considering what she'd just done with him. She threw the towel over her head to partly dry her hair.

"I have no idea. None of this has turned out ANYTHING like I had expected it to. This whole trip is turning out to be...I don't know...amazing?" She finished her statement as a question.

"I'm with you on that," he said. "I thought I was just going to coach football. If somebody had said I was going to make love to one of the most beautiful women in the world I would have said they were crazy." His voice suggested that his comment about her beauty was one that anyone would understand and automatically agree with. He wasn't trying to get in her panties with that comment. It made Claire's stomach flutter and she suddenly wanted to have him again. In the old days she often had three or four orgasms to Denny's one. She made a conscious effort to redirect her thoughts.

"Thank you, Sir," she said and curtsied to him, using the towel to mimic her non-existent skirts.

He looked at her and that warmth was back in his eyes. "You really are beautiful, you know."

"I bet you say that to all the naked women in your motel bathroom." She smiled.

"I don't know about that. I've never been in a motel bathroom with a naked woman before," said Chuck, pulling on his underwear. "If it's anything like this, though, I'm going to try to have naked women in my motel bathroom all the time from now on." He grinned and continued to get dressed.

Claire did the same, combing through her hair and deciding that it wasn't worth the time it would take to dry and style it. Instead she pulled it back and put it in a damp pony tail. When she was done she faced the door, but didn't open it.

"I don't know how to go out there," she said.

"You open the door and walk through it," said Chuck, buttoning his shirt. "It's easy. I've done it lots of times."

"Thank you so much," said Claire acidly. "You've never done it with two teenagers to face."

"Claire, I was awake the other night," he said.

She turned around, her throat tightening. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I couldn't sleep...with you in the bed with me. It was too different. And I felt you tense up and heard the kids. Then when you jumped out of bed I got ready to mediate...things. When you were in the bathroom I didn't hear the facilities. But you flushed anyway, so I knew you were trying to do something. I didn't know what, but I knew you were upset. And, when you came back to bed you didn't do anything, so I figured you didn't know what to do."

She looked at him in amazement.

"So I put my arm over you so you wouldn't have to decide what to do," he said calmly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. It's really none of my business."

"What must you think of us?" moaned Claire, hiding her face in her hands.

His hands pulled hers away. "Look, I'm not a father. I don't understand all this. But they're just kids and kids do that kind of thing. If I WERE a father I think I'd rather they did it with each other than with strangers...people I didn't know anything about. But like I said, it's not my business. If you want me to talk to them, though, I will."

"But its...wrong," said Claire.

"OK, it's wrong," said Chuck. "Is that the only thing they've ever done wrong?"

"No, of course not," said Claire. "But what if she gets pregnant?"

"So, put her on the pill," said Chuck.

"And just let them go on?" asked Claire, her eyes wide.

"Do you remember the first man to have sex with you?" he asked.

Claire nodded.

"Could anybody have made you stop?" he asked.

Claire's eyes widened more. She shook her head.

"So, put her on the pill and tell them to be careful, and let them learn what life is all about," he said.

Claire nibbled her lip, staring at nothing while she thought. She looked at Chuck's face and felt heat in her loins. She had it bad for this younger man. Abruptly she turned, grabbed her pajamas from where Chuck had folded them neatly on the counter, opened the door and walked out to confront her children.

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