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From: Krieg Lite <critic@anon.nymserver.com>
Subject: Jenny (Mf+ teen play) Chap 5


As found in the noodle box...

Chapter Five
Dinner at Six - The Picnic

    It wasn't the alarm that woke me: something was tickling my nose. I
brushed it aside, but it came back. I swatted it away, but it came back.
I turned my head violently away, waking myself in the process, and heard
giggling. Jenny was crouched beside me, twirling a strand of her hair
around her finger. "Don't you believe in locking your door?", she asked.
"And you're a little overdressed, aren't you?"

    "Hi, Jenny," I yawned. "You woke me."

    "I noticed. That's why I'm here, you know. Ashleigh's parents
are going out, so she's going to be coming over a little early, and mom
thought you might want to come over now if I could get you out of bed.
Turned out I didn't even have to. Do you always sleep on the couch? With
your clothes on? Or did mom just wear you out? How was she? We're not
going to eat now of course, but you can come on over anyway."

    As groggy as I was, that registered. "Nosy little girl, aren't
you, Jenny? Your mother is very nice. I thought we hit it off very well,
and anything else is not now, nor ever shall be, any of your business."
I glanced up at the clock. Ten till five. "Now is fine; I've got to
clean up a bit first."

    "Can I help?"

    "No, I don't mean straighten up the house, I mean I have to
shower."

    "Yeah, that's what I mean. Can I help?"

    Wonderful. Just great. A very attractive young girl asking if
she can help me take a shower, and I have to stop and think about it.
Things were getting a little more complicated a little faster than I was
able to manage. I had the feeling that my life would never again be
simple enough for me to manage. "What exactly do you want to do, Jenny?"

    "Oh, anything. Help you undress, soap your back, rub you down,
any little thing I can do to be useful. You know." The grin on her face
told me she had all kinds of useful little things in mind.

    "I'd love to have you help, Jenny, but we should hurry and get
over to your place."

    "Then you definitely need my help to speed things up, right?"

    I thought about the days when I could actually win arguments,
sighed, and said, "Ok, Jenny. You can help."

    She bent down and pulled my shoes and socks off, and said, "See,
all very innocent. You get your shirt", and she began unbuckling my
belt.

    What could I do? I began unbuttoning my shirt. "Stand up," she
ordered. I complied. She opened my pants, unzipped them, and slipped
them down and off. "We can get the rest in the bathroom. Come on." She
took me by the hand and led the way.

    I pulled off my undershirt, grabbed a toothbrush and started
scrubbing. Jenny looked around for minute, spotted a washcloth, grabbed
a bar of soap, went to the bathtub, wetted both, then came back and
pulled down my briefs. "Just go ahead with whatever you're doing," she
said, "I'll take care of this." By that time I had already hit the
mouthwash, and was lathering to shave.

    "Uh, Jenny... I don't think that's a real good idea while I'm
shaving."

    "Why not? You concentrate on shaving, and I'll concentrate on
this. We can take care of both at the same time." Just then the
thrice-blessed alarm went off. Jenny jumped a foot, and squealed,
"What's that?!"

    I have a rather unique, and quite frankly, loud and irritating,
alarm clock. "That's just the alarm, Jenny. Could you be a doll and turn
it off for me? Just follow the noise and hit the button on top."

    She scooted out of the bathroom with her hands over her ears,
and I took advantage of her exit to quickly scrape the growth from my
face. She came back in with a shocked look on her face. "How can you
stand that thing? I'm surprised it doesn't wake me up next door!"

    "It does the job, Jenny. Can't ask more than that." I stepped
into the tub.

    "Hey! Wait!" She peeled out of her clothes in about fifteen seconds
flat, and climbed in behind me. "Don't want to get those wet. Now, where
were we?" She brandished the soapy washcloth.

    "You can get my back if you like, Jenny," I turned away and started
rubbing shampoo into my hair.

    "Sure, just as soon as I finish this," she said, and slid around
me and began soaping my balls. That had the expected effect. I resigned
myself to my fate, rinsed out the shampoo, and began washing my arms.
She gazed thoughtfully at my cock, and commented, "Kinda neat, just
thinking that a few hours ago that was in my mom."

    "Damn it, Jenny! Knock it off! I'm going to tell you this time,
and for the absolute last time, that we didn't do anything last night.
I'm not going to go through this every time your mother and I are out of
your sight. Understand?" I looked down at her when I began my tirade,
and there she was: crouched down, soapy water flowing down over her
breasts to her crotch where it concentrated around sparce hair and
flowed down into the tub in a solid stream. She never lifted her eyes,
but began soaping my shaft. I swallowed hard, and continued, but the
fury was gone from my voice. "Look. I know you're interested, but this
is private between your mom and me. I'm telling you now that we didn't
do anything, but from now on I will never confirm or deny anything, and
it will do you no good to ask. And it will really make me angry if you
do. OK?"

    "Mom sure was in a good mood today... Haven't seen her like that
in a long time. Any reason you can think of why this thing seems to be
empty?" She never looked up.

    "Yes! You have probably fixed me so that it'll be dry for months.
It's all your fault."

    "OK. I believe you. Sure I do. Sorry." She gave it a final fillip,
laughed happily, and said, "Now I'll get your back." And she did. By
this time I was desperately hoping and somewhat expecting that she would
ask me to soap her down, but she didn't. Instead she climbed out of the
tub, offered me a hand as I got out, then began briskly towelling me
off. When she was satisfied, she pushed me toward the door, said "Now
hurry! Go get dressed!", grabbed a dry towel and started drying herself.
Just as I got out the door, she called out "Hey!" I turned back, and she
struck a pose, holding the towel around her neck. "Did the closeup
disappoint you too much?" I rolled my eyes, glanced down at my still
very erect cock, turned and walked away with her musical laughter
ringing in my ears.

    By the time I was dressed, so was she, and a more decorous young
lady you could never imagine. We walked around the corner to her front
door as casually as though we were returning from a walk in the park.
Just as we reached the door, it opened and Ashleigh greeted us with a
"Hi! Mr. Palmer! Come on in!"

    Helen appeared behind her and added, "Yes, Larry. Glad you could
make it. Are you ready for this?"

    As I walked in with Jenny in trail, I assured her that I was
more ready than I had ever been for anything. She grinned, and said,
"We'll see. Come on." She led the way to the kitchen where we all sat
around a square table. "Hope you like spaghetti, 'cause that's what
you're getting today. I am pleased to inform you, however, that you will
have your choice of meatless sauce or the real thing since this pair
thinks that animal protein will cause hair to grow on their chests. Such
as they are."

    "That's not exactly true, Mr. Palmer," Jenny corrected, "we eat
meat sometimes. It's just that we're not into it."

    "Hah!" retorted her mother. "When was the last time either of
you voluntarily ate anything with meat in it? In a group where you're
embarrassed not to doesn't count. Anyway, we're not ready to eat yet, so
you're spared having to make those tough decisions. Larry, have you ever
played Monopoly?" The girls were watching me closely, with scarcely
concealed glee.

    "Not in years. I didn't think anybody played Monopoly any more."

    "It's probably more true to say that most people who think they
have played Monopoly haven't," Helen set her hook. "Would you like to
test that theory?"

    "My better judgment tells me at this point that discretion is in
order, but my life attests to my total lack of adherence to my better
judgment. Do your worst!"

    The words were no sooner out of my mouth than Jenny had a board
on the table and was dealing out money. The board had seen some hard
use. Well, I had been warned. Helen was on my left and Jenny on my
right, which I naively thought might put me in a good position. Before I
passed "Go" for the first time, I knew that I had not played this game
before. Helen was splitting her time between the sauce pots and the
game, but she didn't miss a thing. There were complicated deals going on
constantly, and I thought I was coming out pretty well in most of them.
And in fact I probably was, but it wasn't out of generosity. The girls
(I had mentally included Helen as one of the girls) had me pegged as the
weak sister, so they maneuvered to keep me in the game as long as I
proved a useful obstacle to their real opponents - each other. Then
before I was even aware what was happening, Ashleigh had blown Jenny out
of the water, and Helen picked me apart to gain assets for the final
battle. The whole thing was fascinating to watch; I even thought that I
had started to understand what was going on. Even though she was out of
the game, Jenny was concentrating fiercely on all the action. Or at
least I thought she was until I felt her toes rubbing the back of my
leg. I was fully aware of the precariousness of my position, and had my
mind working overtime trying to find a graceful path of retreat. Then
the game was over. Helen had been losing ground steadily for some time,
but had been conducting a tenacious holding action waiting for a lucky
lightning bolt. The bolt came, but she was the one who caught it. She
and Jenny congratulated Ashleigh on a nice game, and I chimed in as well
but I got the feeling that my congratulations weren't particularly
esteemed, even though all of the girls made the correct noises.

    The game had lasted well over an hour, and when it was finished
Helen decreed dinner ready. Jenny and Ashleigh put away the tools of
combat and quickly set the dining room table, then Jenny helped her
mother bring in the food. The game was forgotten, and dinner
conversation was fast, fun, and varied. I was thoroughly enjoying
myself. Jenny mentioned something about what they were going to be doing
on Sunday, and purely conversationally, I asked about it. "We're going
to the mountains to picnic. Why don't you come with us?" Ashleigh and
Helen joined in the invitation. What could I do? I accepted, and the
details were left for later. After dinner, the girls attacked the dishes
and even let me dry, and then we sat back down at the kitchen table.

    Ashleigh asked with a grin whether I enjoyed the Monopoly game.
I assured her that I had, but told her honestly that I wasn't exactly in
their league. "All it takes is practice, Mr. Palmer, just a little
practice. How about a little card game?"

    Now I might be a little slow at times, but I'm not stupid. "What
kind of card game?" I hoped I didn't sound too suspicious. I remembered
the bridge magazines in the living room.

    "What do you like to play? Oh, hell? Hearts? Spades? Have any
favorites that you want to try?" Unfortunately, all of the games she had
mentioned placed heavy emphasis on the ability to count to thirteen, and
I was pretty sure that all three of them were going to be better at it
than I was. I said that oh, hell sounded good. (At least all the cards
wouldn't be in play all the time, so counting would be incomplete on
most hands.)

    As Helen shuffled the cards, I finally asked a question that had
been nagging at me all night. "How did you guys get so much into games?"

    "We tried watching TV once," Helen responded dryly. She dealt
the first, one-card, hand. We were under way. I gave a little better
account of my self than I had at Monopoly. I might still have been the
weakest player in the game, but I wasn't terrible, and I was in the
game. I only finished last a little more than my share, and actually won
a couple of games. I was feeling pretty good, and heard myself ask what
the schedule was going to be for in the morning.

    "We're pretty loose," Helen answered. "We just let things happen,
and when we're ready to go, we go."

    "What time do you want me here?"

    Jenny popped up with a suggestion. "Why don't you just stay over
here tonight? Then you can let things happen along with the rest of us
in the morning?"

    Helen perked up. "That's not a bad idea, Larry. Besides, if
Jenny can have her friend sleep over, I can have my friend sleep over."

    "Right, mom! That's right! By the way, my friend is sleeping in
my room tonight."

    Her mother didn't bat an eyelash. "You know, you have a point.
But I haven't had a chance to clean my room, and besides tomorrow's a
busy day and I don't want to keep Mr. Palmer up all night." The tiniest
of pauses. "With my snoring. I'm sure he'll be quite comfortable in the
guest room."

    "The guest room? Great!" Jenny was grinning broadly. "We can
sneak in as soon as you go to bed!"

    "Larry, I'm afraid you had better lock your door tonight. These
two lusty wenches will have no respect for your reputation. Just don't
forget our secret knock."

    I was still back at the "have my friend sleep over", but trying
frantically to catch up. "It's engraved on my heart, Helen." My timing
might have been a little off, but it wasn't too bad an effort, and I
noticed appreciative smiles around the table.

    "Good. That's settled then. Why don't you run over and pick up
whatever you're going to need and we'll get ready for bed." I glanced at
the clock. My jaw dropped. It was within ten minutes of midnight. I
might have guessed ten-thirty if I had felt adventuresome. I made
agreeable noises, and stood up from the table, weak-kneed. Helen showed
me to the door, and I stepped out into the cool night air. It didn't
help. As soon as I was outside, I broke into a cold sweat.

    I walked home, stuffed shaving gear and some outdoor clothes, and as
an afterthought a heavy Turkish robe, not my day-to-day,
hanging-by-the-door job, into a bag, and went back to Helen's. My legs
didn't stop trembling during the entire trip. Helen opened the door
before I could knock and waved me in. She was in an old chenille
bathrobe with no makeup, and was ready for bed. She was incredibly
desireable. "Come on, I'll show you the layout," she said, as she led
the way upstairs. She turned left at the top and walked me down the
hall. "That's the bathroom, there," she pointed at a door on the right
with the sound of splashing water behind it. "I'll remind you that you
are outnumbered, and if you leave the seat up, I can't guarantee your
safety." She pointed to the left as we walked further down, "That's
Jenny's room". I felt strange seeing the room from this side of the door
and wondered if I'd get a chance to see it legitimately. I could see a
shadow moving across the light under the door and wondered whose it was.
"And this is your room." She opened a door on the right, across and down
from Jenny's room. "Check it over and see if there's anything you need,
because once I'm out of earshot, you're on your own."

    She left me standing there while she went to Jenny's door, knocked,
and entered. I looked around the room and found nothing wanting. Helen
returned and informed me that she had instructed the girls to tell me
when the bathroom was clear. The day was coming to an end. One way or
another. She turned and walked down the hall without saying good night,
so I said nothing, as well. I sat down in a chair beside the bed, leaving
the door open, and waited for the word.

    It came sooner than I expected. Both girls came to the door to
tell me that I could now use the bathroom; they were both in shorty
pajamas that sent a lump to my throat. While I was trying to stammer my
thanks, they said "Good night, Mr. Palmer," in unison, turned and went
back to Jenny's room. I walked, trembling, to the bathroom, leaving my
door ajar to spread some light in the hallway.

    When I returned to the room, there was a shadow in the door.
Helen took my head in her hands, pulled me down, and kissed me chastely
on the lips. The most sensuous, heart-pounding, fireworks launching,
chaste kiss in my life.  "Good night, Larry," she said softly, then
turned and walked down the hall.  As she passed Jenny's door, she bent
toward it and said in a loud stage-whisper, "I got last!" There was a
burst of giggles from behind the door, which continued long after Helen
had disappeared down the hall.

    I did not sleep well. I'm not sure whether I was scared of what
might happen, or what might not happen, but I didn't sleep well. I
somehow neglected to lock my door, but my privacy was not invaded by
mother, daughter, or friend. Damn it. At last morning came. I didn't
want to be the first one up, but neither did I want to be long after the
first one up. I lay in bed straining to hear voices or the sounds of
movement. I heard neither, but I smelled coffee. It was possible it was
on a timer, so I waited, and finally heard soft sounds from downstairs.
I got up, threw on my Turkish robe, and went to the bathroom. I quickly
showered and shaved, and before I exited, reached back and raised the
seat. I walked half a dozen paces down the hall, then went back and put
the seat down. Totally gutless.

    When I got to the kitchen, Helen looked up at me conspiratorially
and said, "Bacon and eggs before the meatless wonders appear?"

    I said, "Sounds very good to me," walked up and kissed the back
of her neck.

    "That's good for an extra slice of bacon. Want to try for two?"
She turned, put her arms around my neck, and gave me a very unchaste
kiss. Which went on for a very long time.

    I was about ready to tell her that I was ready to try for a
whole pound of bacon when Jenny's voice said, "Morning, Mom. Morning,
Mr. Palmer."

    Ashleigh chimed in with "Good morning, Mrs. Jenkins. Good morning,
Mr. Palmer."

    Helen looked over, said "Good morning, Jenny" and kissed me again.
She looked up and said, "Good morning, Ashleigh" and kissed me again.

    I knew how to pick up a cue. I said, "Good morning, Jenny", and
kissed Helen again. I said, "Good morning, Ashleigh", and kissed her
again.

    Girls or no girls, I was breathing heavily and so was Helen. We
turned toward the girls with our arms around each others' waist.

    Jenny turned to her friend and said, "Maybe we ought to take notes,
Ash.  Sometimes these old-fashioned techniques come back into style."

    Helen grinned over toward the girls and suggested that perhaps
they should bring a large pad, since the day was just getting started.

    That seemed to end the topic for the time being.

    The girls were not yet dressed, but they were (thank God!) wearing
robes over those shorty pajamas. Even so, I was grateful for the weight
and thickness of my robe. Helen had been scrambling eggs the hard way,
in a sauce pan, stirring them slowly with a wooden spoon over very low
heat. She had just started them when we went into our clinch, but now
they needed more of her attention. That was all well and good, but if it
hadn't been for the robe the eggs would not have provided enough
distraction. I thought Jenny and Ash would stick to toast and jelly for
breakfast, but each of them perversely reached over and took a slice of
bacon, Jenny from my plate, Ashleigh from Helen's. They looked into each
other's eyes, making "Mmmmm" sounds as they slowly nibbled the bacon
strips. Every few seconds, they would both turn and look me in the eye
while nibbling and making "Mmmmmm" sounds. It was obviously carefully
orchestrated, but that if anything made it worse. Despite her work on
the eggs, Helen was watching the whole thing with an amused detachment.
Finally the eggs were ready and Helen turned to the table. "Girls," she
said with a sly glance at me, "I know that's great fun, but who's going
to have to take care of him when you're finished?"

    "We could help, Mom," piped Jenny.

    "Sure, Mrs. Jenkins", Ashleigh agreed, "we're more than willing
to do our share."

    "I'm sure you are," Helen said calmly, "but I got dibs. Go upstairs
and get ready to go." They bounced up and went up the stairs, giggling
madly. Helen looked over at me and rolled her eyes.

    With the girls' departure, Helen and I sat and enjoyed breakfast,
and each other's company. The conversation was slow, languid, and
pointless. And wonderful fun. I would have been happy to spend the rest
of my life sitting at that breakfast table. Then a dual tornado ripped
down the stairs and out the front door. "Loading the car with the
essentials," Helen explained.

    When the girls came back in, I asked what the agenda was for the
day once we reached the park. Jenny replied, "I don't know what you old
people have planned, but Ash and I are going boy hunting."

    I looked at the girls. Both in thong sandals; both in very short
shorts, with the curve of their cute little butts sneaking out now and
then, both with open midriffs and shirts that exaggerated their breasts
while concealing them. "Boy hunting, huh? Well, you've certainly got the
right bait."

    The reaction was totally unexpected. Both girls blushed bright
red and ran up the stairs without saying a word. I looked around at
Helen in utter confusion. Considering the racy conversation that had
been going on all along, I thought my remark was quite innocent. Helen
was doubling over with surpressed laughter. Finally she collected
herself and said in her best Southern Belle voice, "Why Mistah Palmah, I
do believe you have some admirahs!"

    I was lost. And I looked it. I finally stammered out, "I'm sorry, I
don't understand."

    Helen looked at me in pity, "Larry, both of those girls have    
terrible crushes on you."

    "But I meant that as a compliment. I didn't mean anything mean,
and didn't mean to tease them."

    "And they took it as a compliment. That's why they reacted that
way. If anyone else had said the same thing, they would have been right
back with some more-or-less witty remark. But when you get a            
sincere compliment from someone you have a crush on, there is nothing
more to be said."

    "Well, I'm sorry I upset them, anyway."

    "Don't be. You made their day. Forget it. Really. Anything you
could say now would just spoil it." She stood up, kissed me on the
forehead, and said, "Come on, us old people have to get ready, too."

    It was a wonderful, lazy, terribly relaxing, and sort of romantic
day. It was a two-hour drive to the park, and it was a pleasure to sit
beside Helen and watch her pilot her Legend. She sat all the way back,
with her arms almost fully extended at the ten-and-two position. Her
eyes constantly scanned, focused well down the road for perhaps ten
seconds at a time, then flicking to each mirror in turn and back to the
road for a second in between. She navigated smoothly, with no abrupt
changes in speed or direction, maintaining between seventy-five and
eighty on the interstate. Her occasional comments showed that she was
following the conversation in the back seat without letting it distract
her from the business at hand.

    Once after we had left the interstate and headed up into the
mountains on an excellent but rather curvy two-lane, she let old habits
betray her. I don't know how long she had been driving the Legend, but I
know that once as we were diving into a fairly tight right-hander on a
rare down-slope I saw her stab for the non-existent  clutch and move her
hand as though to slap a down-shift. She caught herself in time and
casually let her hand continue forward to adjust the volume on the CD.
She never even glanced around to catch my smile.

    Once we reached the park, the girls made good on their claim.
They took off to see how much male attention they could attract while
staying with a crowd, and left Helen and me to our own devices. The
first devices we engaged were a pair of rental bicycles. Helen had a
couple of spots she wanted to show me that were a bit more accessible by
bike, so off we went. It wasn't exactly true that Helen's spots were
more accessible by bike. It was true that they were far enough away that
biking, first along the trails, then cross-country, was the only way to
get close, but the final couple of hundred yards to each was the
hardest, and no bike was going to make it. Her first spot we reached
around noon, and we stopped there for lunch in a tiny, magnificent glade
the size of a tennis court that somehow had grass like a golf course. We
had warm champagne, bread, and cheese and listened to invisible water
flowing swiftly to somewhere else. We spent nearly two hours there,
doing very little. We sat thigh to thigh, we lay thigh to thigh, we
embraced, we held each other close; we didn't kiss. When we were ready
to leave, we gathered up what we had brought to take out with us. Helen
spent ten minutes searching for a missing toothpick that had been in our
cheese basket. When she found it, we were both as happy as if she had
found a diamond bracelet.

    Helen's other spot was anything but peaceful. And the water was
anything but invisible. It was nearly four o'clock when we got there,
and the afternoon shadows made the light mysterious and magical. There
was a waterfall, perhaps eighty feet high, dumping a ten-foot wide
torrent of white water into a boiling pool, and behind the waterfall was
a stone shelf, completely protected by an immense overhang. That was
where we kissed.

    We had agreed with the girls to start back at six, so we headed
back for the parking lot, and got there about quarter till. The girls
were waiting with a mixed group of teenagers in a picnic area when we
got back. As they saw us pedal up they began making their good byes and
started gathering up their paraphernalia. By the time we had turned in
the bikes, they were already back at the car waiting. Helen walked up to
the car, looked around and began counting. "One...two...three...four. I
think that's it. I'm pretty sure we had four people when we arrived, and
it looks like we have four now, so I guess we're ready to go."

    "How did you like the bike trail, Mr. Palmer?" Ashleigh asked
nonchalantly. Jenny grinned.

    "Nice scenery. Not bad at all," I answered.

    "We thought you might like it," Jenny commented brightly.

    "Think you can find your way back, Larry?" Helen pitched me her
keys.

    "I might need a little navigational assistance now and then, but
I think I can handle it." I grabbed the keys from the air, walked to the
driver's side, opened the door and unlocked the others, and popped the
trunk lid. Jenny and Ashleigh loaded up the trunk and all three of them
dived into the car. The first five minutes or so were filled with active
chatter as the girls recounted their day's activities, but by the time
we had cleared the park area and started back down the grade all three
of them were asleep. I didn't make the kind of time that Helen had made
coming in, but I didn't dawdle, either. With the girls asleep, it was a
quiet thought-filled trip home. The thoughts led nowhere, however, and
as I left the interstate the girls began waking up. Even awake, though,
they were nearly silent during the last fifteen or twenty minutes until
I pulled up in Helen's driveway. When I stopped the car, they stretched,
yawned, and began unloading the car.

    I was setting down the stuff I had helped carry into the house
when Helen asked, "Larry, would you do me a big favor?"

    "Sure," I said. "Just ask."

    "This favor might take a couple of hours."

    "Just ask."

    "Could you take Ashleigh home?" We had the full attention of
both girls.

    "Sure. No problem. Where does she live?"

    "Do you know The Oaks?"

    I knew The Oaks. Very expensive suburb on the north side of
town; probably a good forty-five minute drive. "Of course.  Not a
problem."

    Jenny piped in with "Great! I'll go along to keep you company."

    "Sorry, Jenny. You've got things to do here", Helen vetoed the
suggestion.

    "There's nothing I can't do after we get back, mom."

    "It will be too late, then, Jenny. I'm afraid you're going to
have to give up on this one."

    "OK, mom. I'll stay here this time." She didn't sound at all
pleased. "See you tomorrow then, Ash."

    "Tomorrow, Jen," Ashleigh headed for the door at a brisk pace. I
started to follow her, but Helen put her hand on my arm.

    I stopped and looked around, and she kissed me lightly on the
lips. "Good night, Larry. Thanks for coming with us today."

    "Thanks for inviting me. Most fun I've had in years." Which was
absolutely true. I walked out the door to join up with Ashleigh who was
waiting on the walk.

    "I really appreciate this, Mr. Palmer," she said as she walked
toward my car parked at the curb. I opened the door for her and gave her
my arm as she slipped inside, then walked around the front of the car
and got in. She was completely silent for the first couple of minutes
after we were under way, then she made a quiet announcement. "I'm going
to test your powers of observation, Larry. Tell me what you saw just
before we left the house."

    I thought back. "You mean the thing between Jenny and her mom
about her coming with us?"

    "Yes. Tell me what you saw."

    I thought back to the scene and tried to replay it in my mind.
There was something there. "You mean the way Jenny stood when she was
trying to convince her mom to let her come?"

    "Not bad. Yes. What did you see?"

    "Jenny was standing in a very strange position.  She had one
hand behind her back, and was bent forward slightly at the waist. She
reminded me of a pitcher looking in for the sign."

    "Pretty good. Did you notice anything else?"

    I concentrated on trying to see everything that had happened. I
thought that I had it pretty well down, but I didn't remember anything
else out of the ordinary. "No. I don't think so."

    "Are you a baseball fan?"

    "Not a real fan. I watch a game on TV once in awhile. Why?"

    "You mentioned that Jenny looked like a pitcher looking in for
the sign. You know how the manager and coaches go through all those
motions to pass signals to the players on the field?"

    "Sure." I was wondering where this was all leading.

    "That's what you just saw. Jenny's sign was very obvious and easy to
notice, and she even called attention to it by the way she was standing.
Whenever she and her mother are talking in front of other people, they
use a set of signs to keep things civilized. When Jenny puts her right
hand behind her back in any way, it means that what she is asking for is
very important to her. Her mom's sign was a lot more casual. When she
raised her right hand and brushed her hair back behind her ear, she was
telling Jenny that the discussion was over, that there would be no more
argument."

    "But Helen does that all the time. It's just a habit."

    "Most of the time it is, but not when she and Jenny are arguing.
I've always thought that was a great idea, and I've even talked my mom
into doing it. Anyway. The point is that Jenny really didn't want you
alone with me in the car."

    The picture was starting to get clearer. "Maybe she just wanted
to talk for another hour or so."

    "That wouldn't have been a right-hand-behind-the-back situation.
She was really serious about this one."

    "Ashleigh, I don't mean to change the subject, but how did you
get so close to the Jenkins'? You're more like one of the family than
most families I know."

    "Jenny and I have known each other since kindergarten. We've always
spent a lot of time together, and all three of us are a lot alike.  She
and her mom have a great relationship, I think. My mom and I do, too,
but to be honest I think part of that is because of what we've learned
from Jenny and her mom. Of course, with dad it's different. We get along
really well, too, but it's not like mother-daughter, you know. It's
funny. Jenny and I are really close, but our families aren't. It's not
like there's any bad feeling or anything, because there isn't. It's just
that Mom and Dad are kind of in a different world from Jenny's mom."

    She was quiet for a moment, and because I had nothing to say, I
was, too. Then she went on, "Larry, I want to be very careful what I say
because I don't want you to misunderstand. Jenny is my best friend, but
she's really more than that. I really like her a lot and I have a lot of
admiration for her. And I really like and admire her mom, too. I don't
know exactly how to put this. OK. I'm pretty smart. Really. But Jenny
and her mom are both out of my league. I don't know which of them is
smarter, but it doesn't make much difference. I like you, Larry. I like
you a lot. And Jenny and her mom both like you, too. A lot. Neither of
them would ever do anything to hurt you, believe me. But you have to
remember all the time that things aren't always what they seem with
those two. I don't really know what I'm trying to say except that I want
you to be careful, ok?"

    "Sure, Ashleigh. I'm always careful. That's how I met you,
remember?" Even though I couldn't see her in the dark interior, I was
pretty sure she was blushing.

    "Well, ok. You know what I mean. Or maybe you don't. Maybe I don't,
either, for that matter. But when Jenny wanted to come with us tonight,
it wasn't because she hadn't had enough conversation with me today."

    "You think she thought we might try something on our own?" I
felt the color rising in my own face, and was glad it was dark.

    "Or maybe she just didn't want me to have a chance to talk to
you alone. Or maybe both, really." She stopped talking again, and we
were both silent for several minutes. Then she resumed. "Jenny was
talking to me today about the last time we were at your house, and about
how you let her do what she did." A short pause. "She promised that
tomorrow afternoon she'll teach me how to jack you off. Well. Actually
what she said was that she would teach me how to use your thing." A very
short pause. "Larry, I don't want her to teach me. It's not a
competitive thing, I just don't want her to teach me. I don't care
whether she thinks she's teaching me or not, but I don't really want to
sit there and have her show me how to do it like she was some kind of
master of the art. Is that so terrible?"

    I didn't give the answer as much consideration as it perhaps
deserved, and responded immediately with "No. Of course not. Not at
all."

    "I don't think so either. Do you know how to get in to The
Oaks?"

    We had turned off on the street which led to the main (perhaps
the only) entrance to The Oaks. As far as I knew there was no guard or
anything. Just an imposing looking gate which was always open. "I've
never been in there. Is there a problem?"

    "No, no problem, but after you go through that big outside gate
you'll come up on a real gate a little further down, and you'll have to
punch in your licence number and your destination to get in. Except that
you won't have to put your destination in since I'm with you and all
you'll have to do is swipe my card."

    This was beginning to sound a little less private than I had
thought. "Will your parents wonder about my bringing you home instead of
Jenny's mom?"

    "Well, actually, I may have forgotten to mention that they won't
be back until tomorrow night. There won't be anyone at home when we get
there. Here. Take my card and run it through the reader there."

    We had stopped at a rather hefty looking automatic gate. "And
don't forget to punch in your licence number. The gate will open without
it, but if one of the patrol cars sees an unregistered number, they'll
stop you." That certainly gave me a secure feeling. I entered my licence
number and swiped her card. The gate lifted, and I drove through. "Hold
on to the card," she said, "You'll need it to get through the gate at my
house. Turn right at that first street light ahead. The first light
might have been a quarter mile away. I turned right when we reached it.
There were no houses visible from the streets, at least not clearly
visible, though I could see the glow of lights through the trees at
several points. I had heard that the places here were generally in the
one to two million range, and I supposed that included the right not to
be seen. We wound around for what must have been over a mile before
Ashleigh indicated a driveway on our left. Sure enough, there was
another gate. This time all I had to do was swipe Ashleigh's card and
the gate opened.

    As we had been winding our way through The Oaks, Ashleigh had
been occupied in giving me directions, and I was concentrating on
memorizing the reverse directions so I could find my way out again, but
once we pulled through her gate she reverted to her previous topic.
"Anyway, Larry, I would really like the chance to do it before Jenny
tries to teach me. And since that's going to happen tomorrow afternoon,
do you suppose that you could come in and let me try it now?" I could
her the tension in her voice, and I could feel it in my entire body.

    "Ashleigh, do you think that's a smart thing to do? I mean there's a
record of my being here, and with you."

    "Don't worry about that, Larry. After all, Mrs Jenkins asked you
to drive me home, and that's all you did. Park right there in front of
the house." The house must have been at the top end of the range. As we
pulled up I saw lights go on somewhere inside.

    "I thought you said that there wouldn't be anyone home." I almost
felt a wave of relief sweep over me. Regret, too, though.

    "There isn't anyone home, silly! You'd make a terrible burglar.
That's just the automatic lights. Come on. Let's go in." She hopped out
of the car, and to my surprise I found myself following her.  She opened
the door with what at first glance looked like an ordinary key, but
wasn't, and waved me though. I stepped inside as the lights came on in
the foyer. "Come on, I'll show you around a little," she said, and
disappeared through double doors on the left. I followed. "Let me fix
you a drink, Larry. Just sit down and watch." I dropped into a deep
leather chair and watched as she went to the bar, picked out an
oldfashioned glass, eyed it and polished it with a towel, scooped it
full of ice, splashed a dash of Angostura on top of the ice, then
skillfully added a shot of Italian vermouth followed by a shot of French
vermouth, and stirred briskly. "I believe this is your drink, Mr.
Palmer," she said with a self-satisfied grin. I tasted it. She made it
as well as I did. Maybe better.

    "I'm impressed, Ashleigh. I admit it."

    "Bring that with you while we enter the arena," she said, and led me
back through the double doors and up a grand stairway. We had walked
only a short way down the hall when she opened a door on the right and
waved me through it and into her bedroom. "Here we are," she said. "May
I undress you?"

    My mouth was cotton. I desperately wanted to answer, but I couldn't,
so I just spread my arms and offered myself to her. She unbuttoned my
shirt, pulled it from my pants and removed it. She knelt down, removed
my shoes and socks, then stood back up, unbuckled my belt, opened my
pants and slid them down and off, then pulled my tee-shirt over my head.
Then she looked up at me and with an evil grin slowly pulled my briefs
down and off. "Now," she said emphatically, "isn't that better?" She
pressed down on the head of my cock, then removed her finger and watched
it bounce back up. "Would you like to watch me change into my pajamas?"

    I nodded assent. She said, "Okay, coming right up." She opened a
drawer, pulled out a very ordinary pair of pajamas, and tossed them on
the bed. Then she took my hand and led me to the foot of her bed. "Stand
right there," she instructed, then walked a couple of paces away, turned
back toward me and pulled her top over her head, at the same time
kicking off her sandals. She opened her shorts, dropped them and kicked
them off as well. She was now standing there in a bra and bikini briefs.
"Not much suspense on this one today, huh?" She thought a minute. "Oh,
what the heck. I have to take a shower before I go to bed, anyway. Would
you like to wash my back?"

    I forced out a choked "Yes."

    She laughed, "Come on, then. I'll even let you finish undressing
me if you're nice." She led me through a door into her bathroom where
she began fiddling with the water controls on the shower. "Here," she
said, "try this." I stuck my hand in the stream of water. "Seem about
right?" I indicated that I thought it was fine, and then she turned
close to me and directed, "Now then, do your duty." I reached behind her
with both hands and released her bra, then pulled it forward and off.
With those two glorious breasts staring me in the face, I knelt down,
hooked my thumbs in her bikini briefs and pulled them down. As I bent
forward to get her briefs low enough to get them off her feet, I
clumsily lost my balance for a second, and felt soft hair brush against
my nose. She laughed, told me to be careful, then held my hand and
pulled me into the shower with her. All I did was wash her back, but I
admit I redefined "back" on the fly to mean "anything north of the
thighs". She didn't invite me to do more, and I didn't try. When we got
out, we dried each others' back, but otherwise dried ourselves.

    When we went back into the bedroom, Ashleigh began putting on
her pajamas. "Well, you're seeing me put on my pajamas, but I guess it's
kind of an anti-climax at this point." As she finished up, she
continued, "Of course, my main event is still to come." She thought for
a second about what she had said, then burst into laughter. "I didn't
plan to say that, it just happened," she apologized as her laughs
continued to shake her. She pulled the covers from her bed, exposing the
bottom sheet all the way to the foot. "OK, here's what we're going to
do. I'm going to aim you at my sheets so that I don't lose anything. I'm
responsible for everything in my room, including the laundry, so I can
take care of any stains without anybody else being concerned. You
ready?"

    I nodded, and managed to get out a feeble, "Yep."

    She moved to my right side, put her left arm around my waist,
and announced, "OK. Here we go." She grasped my shaft lightly in her
right hand and wiggled her fingers as though she was trying to find a
good natural grip. She settled into a good position and began to stroke
slowly. "This has kind of a funny feel," she announced. "I like it." My
mind went back to Friday night with Helen... The Saturday afternoon
shower with Jenny... The banter with the three girls Saturday night and
today... Pressure had been building up for a long time, and I wasn't
going to be able to hold out long with Ashleigh's silky fingers working
their magic. I began to moan. "Is it working?" she asked, and began to
pick up the tempo. It was moving too fast, but I couldn't slow down. I
felt the surge begin. Ashleigh must have picked up something from me,
because she clamped down harder and began to really work. The first
spurt shot perhaps three feet, the second immediately following close to
four feet. Ashleigh screamed as though she had just won Final Jeopardy,
and continued to pump. When it became obvious that the well was dry, she
released me and sat down on the bed, patting it for me to sit down
beside her. I shouldn't have, but I wasn't sure how much longer my knees
would hold me, so I did.

    "Thanks, Larry. I know it's tough on you being caught in the middle,
but you're always very sweet about it." She turned to face me, and her
knees brushed my thigh. Her fingers rubbed the trails of jizm on her
sheets. "That was fun, you know. I'm going to be looking forward to
tomorrow afternoon when I can do it again. And I'm still thinking about
you helping me get that full body massage." She patted my thigh with her
dry hand, then leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. "Want me to
help you get dressed?"

    "That would be nice, Ashleigh. I have to tell you something,
though." She looked at me curiously. "You got a lot more out of me
tonight that you'll usually be able to. You're not going to get that all
the time."

    She had gathered up my clothes and was holding my briefs for me
to step into. As I did, she said, "Well, that just means we'll have to
do it more often, I guess." She pulled my briefs up to my waist and
patted my cock affectionately. She started pulling my tee-shirt down
over me and continued, "I don't suppose we need to worry about using it
all up." As my head popped through the shirt she went on, "And any time
we need to provide a little additional stimulation, we already know how
to do that, don't we?" Her eyes sparkled. I remembered that first touch
of her breast and nearly came again on the spot. She must have noticed
my cock jump in my briefs because she again began laughing happily. She
continued chattering obliquely about possible things we might do as she
finished dressing me.

    When we had me all nicely reassembled she escorted me back to
the front door and started to open the door, then stopped abruptly.
"Just a sec, Larry," she said as she reached into the front of her
pajama pants. "Here. Want these so you can remember where you were?" She
handed me three very soft, very fine, very blonde pubic hairs. "And I'll
get you something to keep them in." With that she opened a drawer on a
small desk sitting in the hallway and handed me an envelope. She watched
with delight as I placed the hairs carefully into the envelope, then
folded it and placed it in my pocket.

    A thought struck me. Where I found the boldness I don't know,
but I heard myself asking, "Do you suppose I could have one more of
those, Ashleigh?"

    "I think I can manage that", she said, reached in and pulled out
a couple more, and handed them to me.

    "Thanks," I told her, and stuck the new deliveries between my
teeth.

    She gave an enormous roar, jumped up and threw her arms around
my neck, covered my mouth with hers, and forced her tongue in to do
combat with mine. She held the kiss, rocking back and forth as though
she was trying to devour me. When she finally turned me loose, she
reached down and gave me a couple more hairs, saying "Here. I think you
swallowed the others. Be careful with these, or you'll have to get the
next ones yourself." With that she shoved me out the door and closed it.
I could hear her laughing hysterically as I walked to my car.

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