Orchard Flower (Version Bravo)

by Lubrican

Chapter : Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Chapter Five

I had no idea what would happen, of course. It had been too long since I'd been involved in romantic intricacies with a woman. I was assailed by doubts again and thought Vicky might be laughing as she pointed an ethereal finger at the unfaithful schmuck and how he had fucked things up because he strayed from the vows he'd made to her a decade before, when she was still alive. Later, when I stubbornly insisted my dead wife would have supported a proper courtship, I envisioned her shaking her head sadly at my ineptitude.

I was thinking about that when Lynne showed up. She actually knocked on the back door, something she hadn't done in years. We generally just walked into each other's houses and announced our presence by voice.

I could see who it was through the thin lace curtain that had been there when I bought the place, and which I had never removed or replaced. If it wasn't broken, I didn't fix it. I knew she could see me too, which was why I actually opened the door. I don't know what I expected. Maybe an angry mother? But then perhaps, by some miracle, she didn't know what had happened to her little girl.

It was pretty obvious she knew, but the look on her face wasn't what I would have expected from her. It was almost quizzical, like she wasn't sure what to think. Of course that was impossible. Parents always know what to think about something like that.

"Can I come in?" she asked, not quite formally.

I realized I had opened the door and then just stood there like a bump on a log.

"Of course," I said. If you practice being polite, it becomes a habit.

I stepped back while she went past me and apparently decided to just sit down at the table, instead of wait for me to offer her a chair or whatever.

"Are you hungry?" I asked. I had no idea where that came from, and felt incredibly stupid. Then my stomach growled and I realized there was no limit to how stupid I could feel.

"Not right now," she said, still looking puzzled. "Are you all right?"

She could have asked me any question in the book and it would have been less bizarre than that one. The result was that I actually answered her question truthfully.

"I don't actually know."

She stared at me and then snorted. It came from nowhere. One second she was just sitting and staring, and the next she was blowing snot from her nose. Still in automatic polite mode, but feeling like I had suddenly entered somebody's dream, I pushed the napkin holder towards her with one hand.

She blushed bright red and grabbed a napkin. she blew her nose and then wiped up the spots, either real or imaginary, on her other hand. I could see her tensing to get up and flee and this dream I was in allowed me to react in a way that, had nothing happened between Jill and me, I might have done in the first place.

"Don't worry about it. Happens to me all the time," I said, with entirely too much disinterest in my voice.

She snorted again, but this time she got the napkin to her nose in time. It was already blown clean anyway. She took another napkin and continued cleaning things up.

"What's so weird," she said, obviously trying to act normally, "is that I feel exactly the same way."

"You do that all the time too?" I asked automatically.

She didn't snort this time, because somehow she knew I was serious, instead of trying to be funny.

"No, I don't know if I'm all right either."

There was a silence that lengthened until I couldn't stand it.

"It just happened!" I blurted. "I didn't plan it!"

"Oh, I know that," she said almost calmly. "That's part of what makes this so hard to understand."

"What?" My mind twisted around, trying to understand how she couldn't understand what anybody who knew anything about dirty old men and horny young women could easily understand.

When women are upset about something they like to talk about it. Lynne was no different.

"She came bouncing in the door, mad as a wet hen and it was obvious something had happened, so I asked her. I said "What in the world happened to you? And she said 'I just seduced Bob and he was a turd about it!' Just like that! And then she started going on about how wonderful it was, and how easy it had been and how excited you got and how good that made her feel, until you said you didn't love her and that she was never going to speak to you again in her whole life."

"Oh shit," I moaned. The fool girl had told her mother everything!

"That's what I don't understand. I know you," she said patiently. "I know you'd never take advantage of her." Her head tilted then as she continued thinking. "Not intentionally anyway."

"I wouldn't!" I said hastily. "I don't understand what happened either." That was a lie, but if I could somehow salvage things with my neighbor, I was willing to lie to do it.

She sat back, and tight muscles relaxed somewhat. "I just didn't know she had it in her."

Now you have to understand here that a man, particularly a dirty old one like me who had just blown ten years of pent up sperm into a sweet young thing, just can't possibly hear "had it in her" without thinking ... well ... like a dirty old man.

I snorted, just like she had, and lurched for the napkin holder, but my deposit joined Lynne's on the table before I could get a napkin. So I went through the same cleanup routine she had. I hoped she felt better, because I felt horrible.

"What?" she asked, looking confused. She could tell I was trying not to laugh, which was true. I was trying desperately not to laugh. I knew this wasn't funny, but something like that has the same effect as the third grade joke: "What do you do if you get swallowed by an elephant?" [dramatic pause, while adult thinks and confesses he doesn't know] "You run around and around and around until you're all pooped out!" There is then a chorus of giggles from the third grader and, if you're in just the right mood, a fit of almost uncontrollable chuckles from you too.

"Sorry," I said, forcing my face to get what I hoped was a serious look on it. "As odd as it sounds, I think I'm in shock, a little bit." That sounded good. Didn't it? At least it hinted at me having thoughts about things that might be considered responsible.

"Me too!" she said, her voice high. "I'm shocked she could do that to you!"

Do that to me? What the heck was she talking about? She was waiting for a response. It was obvious she wanted me to help her understand how her daughter could do whatever it was she was talking about to me. The dream feeling strengthened.

"Like I said, it just happened."

"But she planned it!" Lynne burst out.

"She did?" I knew she had planned to tease me, but that's all.

"She bragged about it! Like some high school jock, putting another notch in his belt!" She blinked. "I mean in his pistol." She looked impatient. "On his pistol!"

Now I blinked a few times. "Bragged?"

"She was proud she seduced you!" Lynne almost exploded. "She was laughing and crying at the same time. I'm telling you, Bob, she was a completely different daughter than I've ever had in the past. I couldn't believe it!"

"Oh," I said helplessly. Then the automatic male response kicked in ... the one we use to try to mollify a woman, or keep her mollified. "I'm sorry," I added.

She darted a sharp look at me. "I should be mad at you, but according to Jill, you didn't have a chance. The way she told it, you were just a brainless penis, waiting to be used!"

"Now hang on there a second," I said, wounded.

She relaxed again. "I'm sorry, Bob. I know you're not brainless."

That kind of left me with the impression that, while I wasn't brainless, I apparently was, in her opinion, a penis waiting to be used.

"And I've known for a long time that she was infatuated with you," she went on. "We've even talked about you before when she wanted to know why it felt so good when you looked at her."

"Um ... sorry about that too," I said.

She snorted again, but not so hard. "You're a man, Bob. Men look. It made me feel good too, and I used that to help her understand that she needed to learn the difference between what a man tells her with his mouth, and what his eyes tell her. I probably should have said something to you about it, but I thought it was so obvious that you already knew. This is all my fault." She sounded completely serious and completely miserable.

That's when I decided this really was all just a dream, and that none of this had happened at all. Nowhere but in a dream could a mother arrive at the conclusion that the defloration of her daughter could be her mother's fault.

"But she just never showed any real sexual interest in boys!" moaned Lynne. "She's never asked to go on a date. Not one time! She has friends who are boys, but has never had a boyfriend. I was beginning to think she was gay, Bob!"

That was my first clue as to why Lynne might have mixed feelings about her little girl getting well and truly fucked ... by a man, at least. Assuming she didn't want her little girl to be turned on by other girls, then confirmation that said little girl liked boys enough to seduce one might be cause for celebration, or at least relief. At the same time, I was no boy, and guys like me are supposed to do the seducing, not BE seduced.

"She's not gay," I said needlessly. Then I followed that up with a very appropriate "I'm sorry."

She looked at me sharply again. "Are you?" I could tell she really meant that.

"Yes!" I said urgently. "I wish it had never happened. Please believe me."

If I expected to see some kind of relief, or forgiveness, or at least something positive, I was disappointed. Instead she looked like she'd lost her last friend.

"What are we going to do, Bob?" She moaned.

"Maybe we don't have to do anything," I suggested carefully. "Didn't you say she was mad at me and wasn't going to talk to me again?"

Lynne looked at me like I had grown a third eye. "Don't be an idiot, Bob. I'll admit that I didn't see it coming that she would try to seduce you. But I still know her, Bob. She may have left here mad because you said you didn't love her, but she won't believe that in the morning. She thinks she's in love with you!"

I contemplated that little bombshell for a few seconds. Part of me wasn't all that disappointed that a fresh young thing like Jill could think she was in love with me.

"And if you don't reciprocate," said a very anguished Lynne, "which obviously you can't pull off successfully because you don't love her, then she's going to get hurt, Bob!"

This very odd concept - reciprocation in the sense that Lynne was talking about - bounced around in my head like a ball of Flubber on steroids.

"Wait!" I blurted. "You mean you want me to ... to keep ... I mean to do it again? No! That's not what I meant. You don't want me to do that again, right?"

"Of course not!" she snapped. "What kind of sick, twisted woman do you think I am?"

My brain rebelled at that. I wasn't sick or twisted! True I'd nailed a girl young enough to be my daughter, but she'd been willing - eager if what her mother said was true! And she was almost an adult anyway! I'm sure all this showed on my face, but Lynne didn't notice.

"But I also don't want her to think she's being tossed aside like some little sex toy by the man she thinks she's in love with!" Tears welled up in her eyes. "I don't want her to get hurt, Bob!"

"I'm not going to hurt her," I said. I know it was what I was expected to say, but it caught her attention somehow. Maybe that's because I really meant that. I didn't want to ever hurt Jill, or her mother either. "I'm not," I insisted.

"Really?" There was hope in Lynne's voice.

"Of course not. I couldn't hurt her."

"Well what are you going to do?" asked the hopeful mother.

"Well that's what she's so mad about. I didn't exactly tell her I didn't love her. What I said was that she should have given her virginity to someone who loved her. I mean I meant someone she could have a real future with, but I guess I didn't say it too well. And I said it was wrong ... what we did, I mean, because it violated your trust. I guess I didn't actually mention you, but that's what I meant. That's when I said we can't do it again."

"Is that what all that crying was about?" Lynne sounded completely surprised.

"Yes. I was very insistent that we couldn't do it again."

"Well no wonder!" sighed Lynne. "She gave you her heart and you threw it back at her!"

"That's not what I was trying to do!" I moaned. "I just wanted her to understand that it was all wrong, and shouldn't have happened."

"OK, I get it," Said Lynne. "In your inept way, you tried to do the right thing, after you'd done the wrong thing. And like a man, you didn't verbalize things well. And she took it the wrong way. But that's not going to make any difference once she has some time to think about it. She might torture you a little, but she's going to be back for more. Trust me, Bob."

"I know. She tried to argue with me. But I'm serious about it. It won't happen again. I promise! You don't have to worry about that."

If I'd have stopped there, who knows? Things might have worked out just like I planned. But I didn't stop there. I "verbalized" badly some more, and "reassured" Lynne some more.

"I'll just explain to her that it was hormones and that she got a late start, which caused a lot of pressure, but now she'll have to take care of that like other girls do."

She looked at me strangely. "And how is that, Bob?"

"How is what?" I asked.

"How do other girls take care of their urges, Bob? Are you telling me you're going to tell my little girl to go out and let Tom, Dick and or Harry have their way with her?"

"No!" I blurted. "Of course not. I meant ... well ... " I was at a loss. "I don't know." Being at a loss made my brain cramp. "Like you do?"

Lynne colored up very nicely. Her cheeks got all pink and she looked shy and embarrassed, but in a very attractive way. I told you I was a dirty old man ... even if I didn't mean to bring things around to her own intimate practices. Then steel came into her eyes and she leaned forward.

"She's been doing that for years, Bob! That isn't going to work for shit!"

The sense of surreal ness came flooding back. I'd never heard Lynne use an off color word since I'd known her, much less one from the gutter. I remembered Jill cursing like a sailor while she had frantically rubbed her clit on me while I lost control and fountained jets of semen deep in her belly. I guess that old saying about the nut not falling far from the tree is true.

"Mark my words, she's going to come back for more, Bob!" snapped Lynne, who was finally showing some anger toward the man who had soiled her little girl. "What are you going to do then?"

"I told her we couldn't do it again!" I insisted. "I told her it was wrong, and that you'd be mad. Why did she tell you about it, for crying out loud? I told her you could never find out!"

"What are you going to do, Bob?" she asked insistently.

"I'll just say no!" I yelped.

She sat back in her chair.

"This isn't the D.A.R.E. program, Bob," she said. The corners of her mouth seemed to be trying to rise, and that didn't make any sense to me at all. "But it might as well be, for as much good as just saying no is going to do you."

"I won't do it!" I insisted.

She looked at me for a long time, just staring at me.

"I understand why she was attracted to you. Really, I do. I think I had a little crush on you there for a few months, after you bought into the orchard." Emotion flickered across her face. "But it was too soon after ... I couldn't deal with it. And I got over it. I found ... um ... other ways to cope." Her cheeks pinked up again, but she didn't seem to be uncomfortable about it. "What would you do if I took my shirt off right now, Bob?"

I blinked. I had been feeling all warm and fuzzy at her compliment, but this was like lightning had struck out of a clear blue sky.

"I beg your pardon?" My voice sounded like that of a twelve-year-old boy, going from alto to baritone or something.

Her fingers went to the buttons of the blue checkered blouse she was wearing. My unbelieving eyes watched as she undid buttons. I looked up at her eyes, which were staring at my face, and then back down to her fingers, which had six buttons undone now. The fabric was pulling apart to reveal a plain white bra underneath. Don't ask me why, but I remembered her daughter telling me she didn't wear a bra because her mother didn't wear a bra, and how that was obviously untrue. My brain was cramping again.

"What would you do if I took my shirt off?" she asked. Her voice suggested this was a completely normal question about a very ordinary set of circumstances.

"Lynne?" I was back to being an alto.

It was a front catch bra, and her fingers worked it effortlessly. She pulled the ends apart about three inches and the swells of two very pale and very lovely breasts came into view. There is no valley in the world that looks as delightful as that between such breasts.

"What would you do if I showed you my breasts, Bob?"

Her fingers stopped. I heard that 'if' loudly. Even though she was showing me something ... it was clear it was conditional, in terms of if I was going to see something else. Being a man, I jumped to exactly the wrong conclusion.

"You don't have to do that," I said, my voice normal again. "I told you, I'm going to tell her no. I won't break her heart. I'll just be firm that it isn't a good idea. You don't have to bribe me, Lynne. I love her, and I love you too, and I intend to do my double damndest not to hurt either of you."

Her fingers toyed with the ends of the bra and edges of the shirt, moving ever so gently, as if she were lightly scratching her skin with her fingernails.

"So now you love us both," she said, her voice low.

"Come on," I pleaded. "You know what I mean. I care about you. I care about Jill. I want the best for both of you."

"You're sweet," she breathed. "It's one of the things that makes you so attractive." My eyes were glued to the exposed skin of her chest. "But you don't have a prayer," she said firmly." Her fingers pulled apart and I saw the dusky edge of one areola. I leaned forward and, unconsciously, I'm sure, licked my lips.

"See what I mean, Bob?" she asked lightly.

Suddenly her fingers were doing things back up. I sighed, also unconsciously, as I realized I wasn't going to see more. I finally looked back up at her eyes, which were smiling, oddly enough.

"You're sweet, and you mean well," she said, re-buttoning the top button. "But you're a man, and if she plays to that part of you, you won't be able to tell yourself no, much less her. You were ready to rock and roll just a minute ago, Bob, and this is a completely inappropriate time for you to be interested in me, of all people!"

I realized I had been tested ... and been found wanting. I hadn't felt this helpless in a long time, not even when I first tried farming.

"OK," I admitted defeat. "You're right. What should I do?"

If Lynne's response to the initial situation had been crazy, the 'plan' we (she) came up with in the following half hour was just plain bizarre. Especially for a woman who had said she didn't want me fucking her daughter.

Basically, since Jill was going off to college in another month, Lynne was of the opinion that when she got there things would take care of themselves. While she talked I felt like I was being tortured, but with something pleasant, like a feather.

"When she gets around all those strong young men, with all their bulging muscles," said Lynne, "she'll forget all about you."

I felt old and feeble all of a sudden.

"But until then, she sees you as the smart, interesting, caring, rakishly handsome man you are."

I perked up considerably. I might have even thought about preening.

"I need to get her on the pill pronto," said Lynne, frowning. "Those boys at college will be trying to get into her pants nonstop, and they'll have a lot more stamina than you."

I almost groaned, hearing Jill asking how soon I could make it get hard again. I was old, at least by comparison to some nineteen-year-old stud.

"Even if they probably can't hold a candle to your experience, and the fact that you made her first time something she'll joyously remember all her life."

I did preen at that.

"Thank you for that, at least," said Lynne, looking at me with eyes that were definitely not hostile.

"But college will dispel her silly illusion that she and a man your age could have a life together."

I was instantly deflated again. I felt like a basketball with a nail hole in it. I was only good for one or two bounces before I got all flabby and useless.

"So, until she actually gets to college, you're going to have to pretend to care about her."

"I do care about her!" I yelped.

"I know that," said Lynne distractedly. "I mean you'll have to pretend that there's more to it than just the sex."

"There is more to it than just sex!" I argued vociferously. She was making me out to be some kind of predator, and I was the one who got seduced!

"You know what I mean," she said frankly. "You need to make her feel good, but not too good. Don't romance her. Just ring her bell."

"You're making me sound like I know what the hell I'm doing," I objected.

"Do you have any condoms?" she asked suddenly. "It was a long time ago, but as I remember it, when I got my diaphragm, it took a couple of weeks, and the pill isn't really at full effectiveness for a month."

"I'll get some condoms!" I blurted. It occurred to me that we were in the process of planning on letting me have my way with Jill, and that her mother was actually participating in it! That dream-like feeling was back in spades.

"How often do you think you'll do it?" she asked. I looked at her like she was crazy.

"I have no freaking idea!" I almost shouted. "I wasn't planning on doing it again at all!"

"I know," she said soothingly. "You really are a sweetheart, and I appreciate that about you, but if she's like me ..."

Red suddenly stained her cheeks and I saw a chance to change the balance of power. I'm not ashamed that I jumped at it. I'd been off balance for an hour or more.

"Yes?" I don't think I quite leered, but I definitely showed more than friendly interest. "What if she's like you? What does that mean?"

"I was a healthy young woman when I was her age," she said defensively. "I was normal with a healthy libido. I expect she is too." She was clearly on the defensive, and I loved it. "But Paul was a lot younger than you are. He could take care of my needs. What if you can't ... you know ... keep up with her?"

"Would you listen to yourself? I asked, amazed. "You're actually asking me how often I can get it up because you're worried about your daughter feeling neglected!"

She paled, and then blushed bright red.

"You're right," she moaned. "What are we doing? This is crazy!"

"Look," I said. "I'll take care of it, OK? Now that I know you won't come hunting me with a shotgun, I'll figure something out. I'll get her off to college without breaking her heart.

She stood up, suddenly nervous and shy.

"Good!" she said. "All right. Yes. That's a good plan. Thank you."

She was suddenly in a hurry to leave and, to be honest, I was anxious for her to go too. When she stood up all I could look at were her breasts, and all I could remember was how what I had seen had made me want to se so much more. I had been appreciative of her before, in a hands-off kind of way, but that little show had affected me a lot.

Of course that was shoved aside by the fact that I had tacit permission to do again what I so desperately wanted to do ... with Jill ... with her mother ... with somebody!

The ironic thing was that, even with permission to dip my wick in a real pussy, after Lynne left I had to deal with the after-effects of the Simmons girls with my hand.

I took a perverse pleasure in being able to get it up just fine that night. Old man my ass!

Now I'm not trying to sound all noble and such, but it really was my intent to avoid having sex with Jill again. But Lynne was right. If the girl had a crush on me, it would serve her much better if that was dealt with in a gentle manner so that, when she went off to school and met all those fucking muscular studs, she wouldn't be inhibited from forming healthy relationships - healthy non sexual relationships - with a dozen of them.

So to that end I didn't avoid Jill. The next morning I went over to eat breakfast with them. I was going to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, even though the bull was a cow, and had luscious teats which I'd much rather handle than a bull's horns. You know what I mean. I was going to be responsible.

Lynne was alone in the kitchen when I got there. She looked at me wide eyed.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I was hoping to get breakfast," I said.

"But she'll see you!"

"She's going to see me sooner or later," I said. "I have a plan," I said, trying to sound secretive.

"What plan?"

Lynne and I both jerked around to see Jill standing in the doorway, with her arms folded under breasts that called forth tantalizing images in my brain. I shook my head to drive them away. It didn't work, but it gave me a little headache, so I wasn't quite so horny.

"A plan to repair the damage I did yesterday," I said bravely.

"Wouldn't that just be called an apology?" asked Jill.

"It might involve an apology," I said. I wasn't going to pick a fight.

The problem was that I didn't really have a plan. My mind went a hundred miles an hour during breakfast, trying to come up with one, but I had nothing. It probably would have been better just to have breakfast and talk with them both like we had a hundred times before. Lynne was as much at a loss as I was. It was a quiet breakfast.

"I'm going for a ride," Jill announced. She looked at me. "Since this plan is too secret for Mom to hear, why don't you go for a ride with me and you can tell me all about it."

Which is how I ended up riding off across the pasture with Jill ... alone ... just the two of us ...

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