Serendipity - Version Charlie

by Lubrican

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

Chapter Five

Caitlin did not, in fact, bring up the change in our sexual lives again for four hours.  We had parked to hike a trail, and then stopped at two tourist traps to browse the trinkets they sold and stare into a big box full of rattle snakes.  It was covered with a wire grid on top, and was a good four feet tall.  Some of the snakes rattled when I looked down into it.  Kat said she wasn't interested in disturbing "the poor captive snakes, who probably miss their wives and little snaky children."

We had decided to take side roads other than interstates, to be able to see more. We stayed on historic route 66 initially. We ate lunch at a roadside stand and then got back on the road, heading for whatever caught our interest next.  I had a CD playing and even though the songs were from my youth, Kat sang along with me just fine.  We passed forty-five minutes doing that, and then she punched the eject button and turned sideways in her seat, to face me.

"You need to find someplace to stop," she said. 

"Places to pee are going to be few and far between in these parts," I said.

"I don't have to pee," she said.  "I want to suck your dick."

I had a sudden and complete fantasy in which she had said this before any of our sexual play had ever taken place, back when all I did was wish I could see her naked, and touch her and all that.  In this fantasy I managed not to crash, but ended up in the ditch. Where she then sucked my dick.

What?  It's just how my mind works.  That wasn't a fantasy I actually hoped would happen.  Well, except the dick sucking part.  My point is that this new relationship was still new enough that it was unsettling.  To me, anyway.

Kat?  Not so much.

"Say something," she said.

"I was just thinking," I replied.

"About what?"

"Never mind," I said.  "But I'm glad you brought this up, because we need to talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about sucking your dick," she said, calmly.  "I want to suck it."

"Look," I said.  "Don't get me wrong.  I love everything that's happened between us.  And I admit I'd love it if you did what you want to do right now.  But we both know that what happened last night took things too far.  And it will happen again if we don't take some relatively drastic steps to prevent it.  You said you wanted to wait until next year for that level of relationship, remember?"

"I changed my mind," she said.

"You can't just change your mind about something that important," I said.

"Sure I can," she said.  "I did.  It was easy."

"And what if you're pregnant?" I asked.

"I'm not," she said.

"But what if you are?" I insisted.

"But I'm not!" she insisted back.

"Tell that to the thousands of unwed pregnant teenagers in this country," I shot back.

"What's the big deal?" she asked.  "If you're that worried about it, I can always get an abortion."

I almost did end up in the ditch then. Luckily there was a cross road and I used it to come to a stop out of the way of traffic.

I turned to her, but she had one hand up, palm facing me.

"Before you go all ballistic on me, let me say something.  Please?" she asked.

"You can talk 'til you're blue in the face, but I'll never agree that abortion is the answer to that situation," I said, ignoring her request.

"So you're anti-abortion?" she asked.

"No, I'm not," I said.  "I think there are situations in which an abortion is the wisest thing to do.  But this isn't one of them."

"Can you explain that?" she asked.

I pulled back onto the road and got up to speed.

"It's a complicated issue," I said.  "Beyond the concept that I believe women should have control over their own health and bodies, there are medical conditions that I feel justify ending a pregnancy.  I also think there are women who would make miserable mothers," I added.

"That's terrible!" said my niece.  "What do you mean?"

"I mean that there are children all over the world who are neglected and abused by mothers who had no business bringing those children into existence.  Some of those children die horribly. They'd have been better off never being born than having to suffer like they do.  Women who aren't ready to be mothers, or aren't capable of being good mothers, shouldn't have children."

"But those babies could be adopted!" argued Caitlin.

"That sounds great on paper, but it doesn't happen.  People think of children as property.  A lot of those mothers, worthless as they are in terms of being mothers, still think of that baby as 'mine' and don't want to let someone else raise it.  And even if they were willing to give the child up, there aren't enough others willing to adopt them all."

"So you think I'd be a worthless mother?"

I pulled over again.  If I'd looked shocked and angry before, I probably looked even more so now.  I know she didn't say another word until I had turned the car completely off and turned to face her.

"I think this is the wrong time in your life to take on the problems of pregnancy while you finish high school," I said.  "I think having a baby now would significantly curtail your options, in terms of what you want to do with your life other than be a mother."  I looked at her.

"Just answer this question," she said, with the brashness of callow youth.  "If I'm pregnant, do you want me to get an abortion or not?"

"No, I do not," I said.  "But wouldn't it be much easier if you didn't have to make that decision? ”

"Well of course," she said, relaxing visibly. 

"Which is why blow jobs and cuddling and all that ... which lead to having intercourse ... is probably not a good idea right now."

"I thought giving a man a blow job was a good way to keep him soft, so he couldn't have sex," she argued.

"That might work with a lot of men," I said.  "But it won't work with me, because you have a tendency to keep me hard long enough I should probably see a doctor about it."

"What?"  She looked confused.

I sighed.

"If you maintain an erection longer than four hours, you're supposed to see a doctor to get it cured," I said.

"I cured your erection last night," she pointed out.

"Which brings us full circle back to having unprotected sex," I groaned.

"Then stop somewhere and buy some fricking condoms!" she moaned.  "I just found the best thing that ever happened to me, and now you want to jerk it away from me.  I've wanted this for years, Uncle Bob.  I've dreamed about it, and when I finally get it, you want to stop me from getting it again!"

Talk about feeling stupid.

I'd been intent on trying to keep her safe through abstinence.  I hadn't thought once about procuring a supply of condoms.

Long story short, Caitlin got her way. There was one of those old fashioned rest stops, which was just a gravel semicircle on the side of the road, with a picnic table under a small roof on four poles.  It was pretty obvious it wasn't used much.  Still, if I was going to let her do this thing, I didn't want to do it in the car. 

There was a trail of sorts that led into the woods behind the rest stop.  I think it was used mostly for that world-is-our-urinal thing, but since it wasn't used that often, I couldn't be sure.  In any case, I led her farther than I'd want to walk to do that sort of thing, and then ducked into the pines until I couldn't see the trail any more.

"Is this where you bring all the girls?" asked Caitlin, peering around.

"You're the only girl in my life at the moment," I said.

"Good answer," she replied, grinning.  "Bare it, Bubba."

"You're being awfully casual about this," I said, reaching for my belt.

"That's because I'm very comfortable with this relationship," she said.  "I like where things have gone."

"I would too if you were a couple of years older," I muttered.

"So you'd rather put me on a bus at the next town and not see me for two years?" she suggested.  I could hear something in her voice that suggested sex might not be an option for the rest of the trip.  That was like killing the patient to cure the cancer.

"Don't get your panties in a wad," I said.  "We both know all this is ahead of schedule."

"Not true," she said, folding her arms under her breasts.  "I make the schedule, and I am quite certain that everything is right on schedule."

"You are so full of it," I said.

"No, I'm not full of it," she said, dropping to her knees and reaching for my pants, which I had stopped undoing.  "I'd love to be full of it, but, ohhh no, good old Uncle Bob, because he cares about me so much, won't put it in me so I could be full of it.  So this will just have to do."

She then commenced to release my penis and suck it to full rigidity.  If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought she'd gone to college and gotten a degree in fellatio.  She had me ready to pop within five minutes.

Then she stopped.

Just like that.

She stood up and brushed off her knees.

"Thanks," she said, turning back towards the trail.

"What are you doing?" I gasped.

She looked over her shoulder.

"Teaching you what it's like to want your lover, and to have your lover come up with a bunch of reasons why you can't have what you want."

Then she ducked under a pine bough and walked back to the car.

There comes a time in a man's life when his best option is to just shut up and drive.  She punched in another CD and started singing along with it, like nothing had happened.  She looked out the windshield, and her window, but not at me.  At least I couldn't catch her looking at me.  Sometimes, in my peripheral vision, it looked like she was doing that, but every time I glanced at her, she was looking elsewhere.

We were about two hours from our next scheduled camping site, and let me tell you, that was a long two hours.  It didn't help that, at least four times during that span, I observed her lightly touching herself between her legs.  She was wearing jeans shorts, and all she did was stroke the outside of them, but it was obvious they were sexual touches.

We met up with US 95 just north of the border between California and Nevada and followed it up, taking the bypass to skirt Las Vegas. Neither of us had any desire to spend time there, though Kat did press her face to her window all the way through, pointing out this or that thing that caught her interest.

We had decided ahead of time to try and find someplace to camp around Indian Springs, in Nevada.  That turned out to be a tiny little town next to an air force base.  It just so happened that the first place we saw was a mom and pop kind of operation, with a gas station/convenience store/campground office in a single building.  It was called "The Starlight Campground" and at some time in the past, business had been good enough to pay for a big neon sign in the shape of a star. 

Mable, as she introduced herself from behind the counter, was happy to see us.  She signed us in and I paid in advance.  I said "Thank you," and she said "Thank you," and I turned to go, when Caitlin dropped a box of condoms on the counter.

"Don't forget these, honey," she said.

Mable didn't bat an eye.  Nor was she reluctant to discuss the matter.

"He looks a bit long in the tooth for a girl as young as you," she suggested to Caitlin.

Caitlin grinned, showing white teeth.  "A girl needs a sugar daddy, and you just can't find them as young as you wish they were."

Mable grinned herself, showing teeth that were several shades off of white.

"Guess you got a point.  If I'd have found myself a sugar daddy, I wouldn't be stuck here running this place."

"True," said Caitlin.  "But then where would we spend the night?  I hate to say it, under these circumstances, but we're awfully glad you're here."

Mable looked at me.  "I can see why she snared you.  Do her parents know where she is?"

"Actually, they do," I said, automatically.

"Well don't that beat all," sighed the woman, who had to be in her seventies.  "The world sure is changin'."

She picked up the box and examined it.  Then she looked at Caitlin.

"You don't want these.  You want the ones in the yellow box.  The ribbed ones."

"Oh?"  Caitlin's cool exterior cracked, and I could tell she was a little rattled.  I'm sure it was her first discussion about condoms with another woman.

"Least wise that's what my customers say," said Mable, calmly.  "My more ... uh ... experienced customers," she added, dryly.

"Thank you," said Caitlin, stiffly. 

But she took the pink box back and I ended up paying for a yellow one.

I don't have a lot of experience with condoms.  That's because I don't use them often.  In fact, I've never bought a condom.  At least not until Caitlin put a box on the counter and I had to pay for them.  The only condoms I've ever used were the ones a woman produced and required that I put on before we had sex.

I don't want you to get the idea that I'm anti condom.  I'm not.  Rather, you need to understand that, before I take a woman to bed, I have to feel something for her.  In fact, I have to feel what I think is love for her.  I emphasize the word "think" in that last sentence because we humans don't have a very good track record when it comes to identifying who we do and do not love.  Then again, maybe it's more that we fall in love easily ... and then fall out of love easily too. 

Of course it's more complicated than that.  The falling in love easily part isn't complicated.  But the falling out of love part is.  I think we fall in love within hours, but it takes months and years for the love to die.

Except not always.  I've dated probably a dozen women since I got out of college and started taking life seriously.  Of them, I liked four or five well enough to think I was in love with them.  Those were the women I wanted to have unprotected sex with.  By that, what I mean is that, if those women had gotten pregnant, I'd have been willing to marry them. 

Yes, I know that sounds stupid, but I was young. 

Eventually, as my responsibilities at the first firm I worked for became more and more time consuming, the only women I would go out with (more than once) were women I thought were acceptable as lifelong mates.  But the sexual revolution produced a sea change in the way women view sex.  Nowadays, there are almost as many women who are interested in casual, uncomplicated sex as there are men.  It's not that those women aren't looking for a mate.   Evolution still insists that a woman try to find a mate and protector, even if she doesn't see it quite that way on a conscious level.

My point is that I'm not looking for casual, uncomplicated sex, because that's probably the most complicated kind of sex you can have.  At least the relationship is complicated.  And time consuming.  And when I stopped making other people wealthy and started my own company to make myself wealthy, I had even less time for relationships that weren't going anywhere.

Maybe my point is that, when I fall in love with a woman, I want to marry her and have children with her.  Right away.

And I had fallen in love with Kat.

My resistance at further soiling my niece pretty much vanished after the tent was up.  Kat had a little foil packet between her thumb and forefinger as she approached me.

"If you come in the tent with me, I won't make you stop this time."

I went in the tent with her.

Which is not to say all went flawlessly. 

I had never actually installed a condom on my penis.  The woman had always done this, which makes sense in my mind.  After all, she's the one who has the most to lose if it's put on improperly, so she should take an active interest in ensuring that things are correct.  Therefore, when I was naked, I tore the packet open, extracted the slippery roll of latex, and handed it to her.

"I don't know how to do that," she objected. 

"Well it's high time you learned," I said.

"So I can put them on all those boys who want to take me out on dates?" she suggested.

"No," I said, not rising to the bait.  "So you can ensure that the ribs are where you want them."

"Oh," she said, buying it hook, line and sinker.

At first we tried it with me standing and her on her knees.  I had to hunch over because the roof of the tent was too low.

She got it started and then her fingers slipped off.

"This is harder than it looks," she complained.

"Let me lie down," I said.

I did that and she started again.  I reached to help and, together, we got it rolled on enough to slip into the neck area behind the glans of my penis.  The reservoir was off to one side, and it was only an eighth of an inch long.  It looked awfully small. 

"I found the ribs!" she said, excitedly as she rolled the tube further along my shaft.

"Wait a second," I said.  I pinched the reservoir and tugged at it, trying to pull the condom down a little bit.  It didn't work, and I gave up.

"I can't wait to see what that feels like," sighed Caitlin as she stroked the raised ribs she had uncovered. 

She pushed what was left of the roll on down the shaft.

"It looks funny," she observed.

"Thank you," I said, dryly.

"You know what I mean," she said.

She crawled on top of me and lay down, reaching to pull my condom-sheathed penis up between her belly and mine.  She kissed me on the lips, and it was a surprisingly passionate kiss, considering the lack of passion we had exhibited toward each other over the last few hours. 

When she lifted her lips from mine, she said, "It doesn't feel any different so far."

"It does to me," I said.  "It's tight."

"I'm tight too, right?  She frowned.  "Aren't virgins supposed to be tight?"

"You're very tight," I said, remembering the rippling muscles that had squeezed the semen out of me.

Suddenly, wishing I could be speaking from direct investigation, rather than memory, I pushed her off of me and rolled over, climbing on top of her and pinning her to the sleeping bag that was, as it turned out, only halfway under her.

"Wait!" she gasped, as her right shoulder and butt cheek impacted the cold floor of the tent.  "I'm on the floor!"

There ensued a complicated maneuver in which I tried to lift myself so she could move to her left while, at the same time, I moved to my right without getting off of her.  I've seen videos of insects mating and sometimes it looks very complex.  I suspect we looked like that for twenty or so seconds.

Eventually she was all the way back on the bags, and she collapsed and reached for me.  There was no hesitation in sweet, innocent Caitlin as she pulled her lover into a heated embrace.  She'd been fired up ever since that morning. I'd tried to throw water on the coals all day, but they stayed banked until, at last, they burst into flames.  That one kiss was all the foreplay she needed.  She reached for my cock, and brought the tip unerringly to her portal.

I sank in, in one long, gentle push. 

Her groan of completion was like music to my ears.

The other reason I am not a condom man, is because, in my own personal history, I have found that condoms remove a significant part of the stimulation needed (at least by me) to achieve orgasm.  Maybe it's that I've had the wrong brand or something, but I've never found a condom that would allow my foreskin to move back and forth.  When the foreskin slides back and forth over the head of the penis, it creates the kind of stimulation that gets a guy off.  That is, in fact, how masturbation works.  If he doesn't have a foreskin, then it's the friction of his hand sliding over the glans that gets him there.  Or at least that's my theory.  I wasn't mutilated as a baby, so I don't know what it's like to stroke a mutilated penis.  Sorry.  That's just how I think about it.

Anyway, it turns out that if your partner is only having intercourse for the second time in her life, there's a lot more stimulation than the average man is used to in a woman.  Unless he has a horse cock, I suppose.  Anyway, suffice it to say that, while there was some loss of sensation, I was not in any sense of the word unhappy as I acted out my earlier fantasy, pounding Caitlin's tight pussy until she squealed. 

It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't paid any attention to whether we had neighbors or not.  Mable had assigned us a campsite, and when I saw the correct number on the wooden post where you could plug small appliances in, I just stopped, unpacked, and set up camp.

So I had no idea if anybody like the Hendersons were looking our way, getting ready to ask if things were "all right" in our tent.

"Shhh," I warned.

She ignored me and happily continued cumming on my rigid prick.

But that wasn't enough.  Either that, or she remembered what it was like to be on top and, having just had an orgasm in the other orientation, wanted to have another one on top of me to see how they compared.  Whatever the reason, she rolled us over, at which point I was the one who felt the shocking coolness of the floor of the tent.

I didn't really care, though, because my mind was on other things, like helping her stay impaled. 

She did, and then she was off to the races, riding me like a quarter horse in one of those quarter mile races they were named after.

Her sprint consisted of pelvis jerks that, before that day, I would have thought were impossible.  Her upper body stayed completely still, relative to her hips, which flashed forward and back so quickly that I honestly feared she'd shear my cock off at the base if she thrust a little too far forward.

But her upper torso wasn't really static.  Her breasts bobbed and shook like we were experiencing an earthquake.  Her arms were out, away from her body, and waving in that way that makes it clear they're helping with balance.  Then, suddenly, her hands came to slap down on my chest, right above my nipples, and she leaned forward with a tortured groan as, while an orgasm washed over her, she brought extra pressure to bear on her clit.

She cursed.  I had never heard her utter words like that, but they flowed smoothly from her mouth in a way that made it clear she had used them often in the past.  I'm sure it was with her peers, and I know kids are aware of that kind of language, but it still surprised me.

At one point she froze, leaning far forward, and straining the base of my prick.  She gave a little almost dainty shudder, and then relaxed, flopping down with her face in my neck, gasping loudly next to my ear.

"Oh fuck that was good," she sighed.

"Did you know you have a real potty mouth when you have sex?" I asked, stroking her back.

She shook her head slightly. 

"Well you do," I said.

"Sorry," she breathed into my neck.

"You okay?"

"I'm wonderful," she moaned.  "Except that I'm addicted.  I can't do without that for a whole year."

"You'd better," I warned.

"Shut up and fuck me," she replied.

"I just did."

"No, I'm pretty sure I just fucked you," she said, sitting up.  "But I liked it when you were on top too.  Let's do that again."

This time, when I rolled us, we ended up squarely on the sleeping bags.

I did a pushup with my arms, so I could look down at the naked girl under me.

Just that look brought the boil to my balls, and as soon as I started bucking into her, I got even closer.

Turns out she has a potty mouth when she's trying to get me to cum too.

"You like fucking your niece," she whispered.  "You like putting your nasty old boner in my poor virgin pussy."

"Oh yeah," I groaned, feeling release only seconds away.  "But you're not a virgin any more."

"Because of you!" she panted.  "Because you poked your penis in me.  Because you spermed me last night."

"Ohhh Kat," I groaned.  "I'm sorry, baby."

"I'm not," she said, immediately.  "I loved it when you spermed me last night.  I wish I could feel that again right now.  I love it when my Uncle Bob fucks me so good."

That was it.  I gasped, and grunted and groaned and probably whined a little too, as strong, healthy spurts rocketed through my cock, soothing the orgasmic pain that our joining had created.

I was mostly finished spurting, and contemplating whether or not she could support my entire weight, when she spoke again.

"Actually, it feels just like it did last night."

"What?" I gasped.

"It feels hot, like it did last night," she said.

From somewhere, strength appeared in my arms, allowing me to push myself up onto my knees, which dragged my condom-covered penis from her vagina. 

Or partially condom-covered penis, I should say.  That reservoir was, indeed, too tight, which meant too small.  Because of our combined unfamiliarity in the proper application of a condom, the device had failed, bursting and, instead of collecting my semen, allowing it free rein.

"Shit," I sighed.

"Did you go soft?" she asked, showing where her interests lay.  "Can we go again?"

"Give me a minute," I groaned, flopping to one side and letting the tent floor cool my back again.  "The condom broke."

"Oh," she said, showing no concern whatsoever.  "To be honest, I didn't feel anything I thought was a rib anyway."

"What a pity," I said, dryly.

"Plus you didn't feel as warm and alive in me," she pointed out.  "Until the end, anyway.  I liked that part."

"That's the part where you get pregnant," I said.

"No it isn't," she said, firmly.  "I only finished my period four days ago.  I can't get pregnant right now. I learned about it in school."

"You're less likely to get pregnant right now," I corrected.  "But it's still possible."

"Whatever," she said, carelessly.

Then she rolled over to lie halfway on my chest.  Her hot, young breast felt wonderful against my skin.

"By the way," she said, kissing my chin.


She reached for my cock and caught the rim of the useless condom with one long fingernail.  She pulled and I winced as the latex stretched and then lost its grip, sliding off of me.  Her hand flicked the condom toward the door of the tent.  She gripped my cock, but didn't stroke it.

"If this particular penis ever gets me pregnant ... I wouldn't even think about getting an abortion."

That night was the true turning point in our relationship, I think.  That's because after that night, my objections (sanity) faded like a beautiful sunset.  We did get dressed and have supper, but we went right back to bed afterwards, not even cleaning the dishes.  Her reasoning was that, since the damage had already been done, using a condom was like closing the barn door after the horse escaped.  So the remaining ribbed condoms lay forlornly in the box as, next to it, she cooed that she liked feeling me skin to skin much better.  She had two orgasms as I lay buried in her, rotating my loins.  That was the first time I'd actually had time to do that, meaning the first time I'd been calm enough to think about it.  It was a lot of fun watching her face as she felt things for the first time.  And came, of course. 

I never knew what to expect when Kat had an orgasm. Some of them were noisy, on the level of wake-the-dead noisy.  But they might also be almost entirely quiet.  During those, it was like she had a head of steam built up inside her and it was leaking out in various places. Little squeaks and whistles and whines would break the silence as her pussy rippled and milked.  The second time that happened, I gave up and spurted, bathing her insides and making her whine about how wonderful that felt, and how much she loved it.

Twice more that night we coupled.  The first of those seemed like a dream, because she woke up and sucked me to rigidity before climbing on.  She came, and it felt good to me, but I didn't feel the urge to shoot.  It was just a nice, erotic dream.   The second time I woke up more and, probably because of the first time, I was more interested in achieving my own climax.  That time we spooned, and I entered her from behind.  I reached around to punish her clit.  There was a lot more pressure on my cock, because her legs were closed, and when she came, it was easy for me to cum too.

It was also easy to just fall asleep that way, once we pulled one of the sleeping bags over us as a blanket.  It had been hot when we set up camp, but it got cold that night.

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