Gillian showered and brought down a basin, towel and washcloth to clean Jennifer. Should she redress the girl? No, Jud would not care and it would keep that worry from her mind. She covered her with a bedspread and walked to the phone.
Jud sounded confused that she was phoning so soon, but told her he would be over shortly. Gillian hung up with a hopeful smile.
Twenty minutes later, he knocked at the door. Receiving no answer, he tried the door and found it unlocked. He stepped into the afternoon dimness of the unlit living room.
"Gill? You here… " he cut off, seeing Jennifer asleep before him. He stared in disbelief at the beauty of her sleeping face, the gentle cushion of her pink capped breast, her delicate hand that hung down onto the rug from the couch.
Clearing his head, he went through the house looking for Gillian, finally realizing that her car had not been in the driveway. He slowly went back downstairs, his eyes on the couch, wondering what had happened. Why was Jennifer here, sleeping nude? Why had Gillian phoned him and… The answer came to him and he was overwhelmed by what she had done for him, the trouble and risk she had accepted in order to clear his mind. But would his mind be cleared? He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, looking lovingly at Jennifer, realizing just how much he had missed her. And her eyes opened upon his, and they both found themselves smiling nervously.
"Hi," Jud finally said, simply to break the silence.
"Hi, Jud," Jennifer answered, sitting up, the blanket held across her breasts. "I… I don't know quite what to say.
"Yeah" Jud grinned awkwardly. "Me neither."
"I guess Miss Bastrop phoned you, too, huh?" she smiled.
He nodded and sat down on the edge of the couch.
"She told me about your conversation last night," Jennifer said sadly. "About how you thought that I… blamed you?"
He nodded, his eyes expectant and hopeful.
"I don't Jud. You couldn't have done anything. It was just such a shock that a man's hands, well… Did you wonder at me sleeping here like this?" she asked tentatively.
"Sort of. Mostly, just that you were here."
"Well, I and Miss… I and Gillian made love. That's as close as rye been able to get, I've been so uptight. I met a guy and…" Her eyes tightened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"
"No, it's okay. After all, I and Gillian've been doing a thing."
"Well, I haven't even been able to let him touch me or even kiss me, even thought I want to. She paused, moistening her lips. "I still love you, Jud. But it's all so different than it was before those men came.
"Yeah," he nodded sadly. "I'd like to think it wasn't, but you're right. I'm just glad you don't hate me, you know?"
She looked at him, caught between a laugh and tears, and clutched him to her, mindless of the blanket that fell away from her body. They gripped each other tightly, their breaths long and full as if refilling themselves with the sensations of being together, renewing the memories of touch.
He kissed the side of her face and their lips met. They moaned with the release of tension, with their pent up love and desire, with joy.
"Jen… Jen, I want to… but now if you don't want to," he whispered.
"I've got to sometime, darling. And you're the only man I've ever made love to, so maybe knowing I can trust you… "and her lips moved the half inch to his.
Jud eased his hand cautiously down from her shoulder to touch the dome of her nipple and snare her breast within the cage of his hand, his flesh afire with the tingling warmth of her. His mouth writhed at hers, their lips parting and joining as he dipped his tongue into the moistness, tasting her tongue against his, filling his hands with the glory of her flesh, feeling his own flesh writhe within the confine of his slacks. Then her hand was pulling the snap open and the zipper down, and his sex rose long and hard, her fingers curling around it. Almost desperately, she pressed his head into the downy slit of her loins, moistening it in her to slide it upward, letting go to sink down on it. Jud moaned with surprised pleasure as he felt the warm, liquid embrace of her flesh around his throbbing member.
There, she thought, it's done. There's no backing out now, and thank god, because it's so full and good.
His lips spilled over her breasts and her nipples lifted from the pink swells as his tongue played upon them, his tool pressing firmly against her, swirling within, rolling over the clit and then around and over again, faster and faster till it pulsed. She bit into his shoulder, tasting him and the tang of body salt, her fingers clawing at his back as she ground her loins against him.
Little by little he began to move in and out, easing back and forth, pulling out and swinging back in, and then pumping into her in jetting strokes that brought her rolling back to meet him. Their mouths found one another again and their lips writhed and smeared together, their tongues driving and swirling, their heavy breath mingling. She drew her legs up along side him, widening her entrance to have him fill it with his engorged flesh, the petals opened to expose the delicate pearl for the lubricated friction of his passage. She raised herself onto her heels and shoulders, pumping up at him, grabbing at him with her cerise scabbard as he churned her. His mouth found her nipples again and he nipped and sucked at them, arching his body to delve straight into her from between her raised thighs.
Oh, she thought, it's so good. It's not restrained or anything, and I love it. Deena and Miss Bastrop were nice, it was different and good, but not like this. Not like the burrowing fullness that became part of you. that you rode like a stallion, that was…
Her tongue drilled into his ear, her hands painting the flesh of his loins every time he pulled back. Then his hands gripped her legs, supporting her body, and he slid off the couch onto his feet. He held her before him swinging up straight across the poppy of passion haloed with her film. She groaned her stomach rolling as her thighs rode in his grip, her hands clutching the couch.
So good, Jenny, he thought at the shimmering careen of sensation burned at his mind.
He slid down onto her again, her legs wrapping around him to pull him into her. They kissed and he nestled quivering within her only to erupt again in a staccato that pushed her head back, crying out at the generation of spasms within her loins, spasms that lapped at the rest of her. She twisted her head forward against his chest, tasting him, gasping against him as everything else crumbled from memory.
Jud did not want to stop, he wanted to prolong this ecstasy, to balance on the seesaw of lust and love. He could feel his pubic hair mesh with hers as he flashed down the wet velvet slide, leaving it behind to feel the air cool on the moistened length of his sex as he slid it over the tiny node, holding the head at the crown and then singing back down. He could feel tissue tremor to explode in rings along his descent and ascent. Could feel the soft curves of her body, supple contours and sanctuary. Her legs embraced his sides and her fingers caressed him and her tongue devoured him.
Twisting and bucking, Jennifer groaned as he began to slow his pace, measuring his strokes until he was churning her pit as when he had started. She ground her pelvis against his, her breasts crushed against him, sliding the nipples back and forth across his chest. Then he was quickening his pace again, faster and faster till it was all one movement, one sensation lifting, mounting to float her up, buoyed upon it. She gasped through clenched teeth and pressed herself hard against his chest, flattening her breasts and dragging them through the mantle of hair. And his hands were under her, cupping her buttocks, squeezing them with his fingertips, working them down against his plunge, slipping a little finger in to catch the thin membrane between it and his lightening rod. Again and again, holding himself in check, prolonging the inevitable, stretching time to its breaking point, making her want to scream for release from the peaking, feeling herself climax only to have it overcome by the building tide.
His face was contorted with his own yearning and restraint. He groaned with it, and his body began to shudder as he ricocheted again and again within her, up and down, and in and out at the same time. His muscles locked and he began to vibrate toward his loins, his whole body a concentrated juggernaut moving to one point. Jennifer screamed into his shoulder, her teeth breaking the skin as she felt her mind erupt, casting her past her body into pure experience. And he was stuttering within her, mixing his own fluids with hers, flooding her, and his cry mixed with hers, his body freezing as his mind teetered on madness.
Muscle by muscle he began to peel back from the intensity, the gauze fading from consciousness, and he lay easily upon her, hearing her murmuring happily. They were smiling without knowing it, and they basked in the embrace of their flesh, and the satiation that flowed through them both.
"I'm so glad, Jud. So glad this happened," she whispered.
"Yeah, Gillian's fantastic," he nodded, his eyes shaping her face with veneration. "You're so beautiful it hurts, baby. I know we can't go back, but it sure will be something to remember," he smiled.
"I can't imagine a better starting place," she said, her lips brushing his shoulder.
"You know," he grinned, "if we went along like normal it'd probably fade or we'd break up. But… there's something in knowing we'll always have each other's love."
She nodded, her eyes misty, and their lips blended. He kissed her longingly, his hands drifting down her body, memorizing the rises and falls of beauty, savoring the exquisite sensuality.
"You love the guy you mentioned?" he asked without malice.
"I don't know. For now, I guess. At seventeen… well, like I said that night, it's one day at a time."
"Yeah," he nodded with a smile of admiration at how she had reclaimed herself.
"I'm glad you've got Gillian."
"Me, too."
She twined her fingers in his hair and their mouths merged. He moved the back of his hand over one breast, dragging the fine hairs over the silky surface to prick at the plump areola. She stroked his leg with her instep, their bellies pressing together., and both felt his flesh begin to tighten a little. Her fingers drifted between them and sailed over his stomach, coiling his pubic hair about her fingers, and plucking at his tool, brushing the hairs of his sac. He worked his chest against her breasts, grinding into their mellow thrust.
Her fingers were spider's legs weaving a web of energy between his nerve endings, candles patterning his flesh with drippings of scarlet wax. Her hair spilled over his chest in lush cascades and she dragged it up and down over his stomach, each strand strumming his body hair, tingling the skin beneath. He smiled down at her face as she orchestrated the flow of her hair and her fingers, and he felt the flesh of his shaft tighten, the tissue harden, the whole of it. stretch out searchingly, rise and swell till it stood yearningly from his body.
Her hair swirled around his loins and her mouth took in the head, bathing it in the moist softness of her lips and tongue. He sighed, feeling himself swell, and he drew her up along him, feeling her body's smoothness glide over him. His mouth recaptured hers and he angled his tool into her moist grove and rolled the head in an orbit around the jewel set within. She eased up and he rolled onto his back and she straddled his hips, his body embedded in the golden seal of her hair. She pressed her loins forward to let them slide back in place again and again, pressing up along the underneath of his shaft, her fingers upon his stomach.
He raised his legs, pressing his thighs against the bottoms of her up tilted buttocks; then he began to raise his loins up against her tawny maw, his thighs flexing under her with the movement, then dropping in digits. This was not the frenzied embroilment of what had gone before but a gradual, conscious remounting, precise in their interplay of motion.
His fingertips skimmed over the backs of the hands that drifted his stomach, rising up the slender forearms, moving over the hollows of the elbows and up to take her shoulders in his hands. He drew her down as their counterpoint continued, her cit pressed down against the top of his undulating shaft, his fingers easing down to encircle her breasts, and their mouths joined amongst the canopy of her hair. She rolled her loins steadily against the rise and fall of his shaft and the massage of his thighs, her fingers teasing the sensitive areas behind his ears and at the nape of his neck. It became like a water wheel, steadily revolving to meet the lap of the water, carrying it upward to spill over.
As their kiss grew more fervid, their muscles began to harden, their movements to quicken a bit, the contact firmer. Jud felt his flesh float within and under hers, felt her slide along under his sex, felt the tender weight of her flanks against his thighs, felt her fingers shimmering his perception. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, pulling his legs up, and sat up. He held her to him, his head tilting down to kiss her breasts as he continued moving up into her. Seated in his lap, Jennifer felt her lodging glutted, their flesh compressed into one quaking mass.
Then he was pressing forward against her, sliding his legs around, and they tumbled over with him on top. Jennifer felt her nails dig into his back as the merging of their loins pressed into the couch and they began to slide off. He extended one arm to brace their fall, and eased them down onto the carpet, rolling onto his back. Jennifer's mouth created flurries across his throat and chest, her hips bobbing against his anchor.
He pushed with one elbow and they rolled over again with her beneath him, and she cried out at the twisting, pulling, press of flesh. Then he was suddenly moving out of the channel again, and back, in and out in precise archs, his mouth sipping at hers. Her hair was a tangle of gold as her head moved with the expanding vortex.
Jud pushed his knees up under her buttocks till he was kneeling at her entranceway, continuing to fill and empty it with his manhood. He lifted one of her legs and leaned back from the waist, drawing the leg over his head, rolling her over. Before she understood, Jennifer was on her stomach, her belly and breasts against the softness of the carpet and Jud was continuing his piston evocation. She felt his stomach against the full globes of her derriere as he came in, his head and the underneath of the staff moving over her clit, drawing back the furls of flesh as he entered and returning them as he exited.
Her breasts pressed out from under her in crescents, and his hands slid under her belly and up to cup the full mounds. He bit at her shoulders and the back of her neck, tonguing her ear from behind as his hands fondled the weighted press of her breasts and his loins drove her up onto her knees. Jud felt her flanks rising and came up onto his knees behind her to swing up into the broiling floss, his hands still at her breasts. Her shoulders flexed and her body whipped back and forth from the waist as his charger spiraled up again and again, his chest against her back as she lifted from the floor. She pulled one hand from her breasts and tasted his fingers, biting at his palm; and then her hands were around behind her caressing his hips.
Jud pulled one leg and then the other around to slide them between her spread thighs, sitting down under her. She sank down onto him, moaning at the undeflected plunge, and spun herself around to face him, riding the saddle of his waist. He reached up and pulled her down upon him and they rolled over again, their mouths and loins kissing.
He raised up from the waist and skied down into her blonde fringed oven. Jennifer writhed beneath him, displaced by the constant movement of their bodies and of the motion within her sweltering,vestibule. She bucked up against his drive, her mouth dry and her eyes wet, biting into her lips.
Jud's eyes were squinted and sweat gave his body a sheen. Muscles ached in his back and shoulders, his breath was tight, the flesh of his prod was burning from the friction, and salt from his sweat burned at his eyes. Yet he continued, unable to bear quitting the ecstasy of riding with her. He heard her cry out as a climax engulfed her, and he felt her passage swelter again.
His lips pulled away to bare his teeth and he sucked air into swollen lungs, feeling the whirlpool of her channel reach out and pull him into her joy, swirling his manhood in the swirling carousel of fluid and flesh, sucking him down into her sweet depths, and thrusting him into a seizure of release that burned at the recesses of his mind and flailed his flesh from within. He cried out hoarsely as he began to burn free from the maelstrom to float over in the waterfall of sanity.
Their breathing filled the room, their flesh a debauched tangle of limbs, their fluids smeared over their loins and bellies, their hands limp upon the floor.