by Mary Jaine
That was it. My PHL (Personal Horniness Level) shot up from tick-over to full throttle right away, as Ashley and Judy just grinned at me, knowing full well what was going through my mind. I was fighting to keep my little friend (well, perhaps not so little...) under wraps and under control, and I just knew that they knew what a struggle I was having; something was going to blow soon
Judy leaned over to pat me on the knee.
"Calm down, Lover Boy, keep your pants zipped, you've got all night, go get a shower, read a book, do a crossword, she'll be here when you get back! Savour the anticipation, Old Bean!" she grinned, "Besides, I thought you English would rather drink tea than fuck, and it's not like I haven't seen your busy little love-token before; shall I make you some tea, or would you like to go somewhere and become...comfortable again? Or you and Ashley could just...?" Oh, she was having so much fun!
"I'm not English, I'm American!" I gritted, trying to keep my condition out of sight, but Judy was trying determinedly to see what was making me so uncomfortable, and I had to keep moving to avoid that interested stare; now I know how a fan dancer feels when she drops her fans. I wasn't so much hot under the collar as heated under the belt-buckle, and she bloody well knew it...
"OK Judy, you can stick a fork in him, he's done!" grinned Ashley, and Judy looked disappointed, but slapped my backside and said "OK Stud-Brother, I'm done too, you can relax now!"
Easier said than done, believe me...
Ashley pulled me down next to her, and I promptly pulled a cushion over my lap, to hide...things.
"Ignore her, she's a past master at this," grinned Ashley, "I've seen her reduce bigger guys than you to drooling chimps, you got off light! Just be glad she likes you...!" Judy grinned and held up the peace sign, so I did as well, and peace reigned in splendour abundant once again. Well, until the next time she decided to press my buttons, anyway...
We pretty much camped-out in our room (OUR room!) for the rest of the day, chatting and kidding around until we heard the door chime.
"There's dad, right on cue!" remarked Judy, and left the room with Ashley to go watch the fun when he and mother tried to act all nonchalant around each other.
Mother showed Dr. Nixon into our room, and he did all the doctor-type things you'd expect, but I could see his heart wasn't really in it; he obviously had other things on his mind. Mother too looked different, and it took me a little while to work out that she'd changed into something a little less 'mom' and a little more 'Oh, Hello!'
She had on modest shorts that nevertheless showed off her long, very nice legs, and a short-sleeved white shirt with a couple of buttons undone at the neck and a hint of cleavage. Go mum!
When he'd finished with me, Dr. Nixon asked me a few questions about the previous night, nodding as I tried to explain how I'd felt, then and now.
"It's OK to feel that way, Nick, and completely understandable," he began, "what you're exhibiting is an almost text-book case of something some therapists call 'Survivor's Guilt'. I assure you, it's normal, and it will pass. I know you feel like you abandoned her, it's natural that you would, seeing as what came after, but you didn't, she sent you away, for your own good, as she saw it. What happened to her isn't your fault, and at some point you're going to have to stop beating yourself-up over it. If you want to speak to a more competent therapist than me, I can give you some names, would that help?"
I declined. Ashley was helping me cope, and Judy, strangely enough. Having their kind of normality around me was pulling me through, and I explained that to Dr. Nixon.
He looked skeptical. "Judy, eh? As a therapist I would have thought she'd fall somewhere between Attila the Hun and Slipknot, but she does keep you awake and aware, I'll give you that! The girl has a beautiful mind, it's a pity she chooses to dress, walk and talk like Cindy Lauper's hooker sister...I sometimes think the only reason the anti-Christ hasn't come yet is because he knows Judy's up here waiting for him!" He grinned and told me to button my shirt, we were done. As he turned to leave, he stopped and turned back.
"Almost forgot, I got a call, the part you ordered is in, so they'll deliver it tomorrow morning at nine, are you still going to install it for me?"
I grinned and nodded. "I'll be there just after, then, it shouldn't take more than a few minutes to get you back on the road; that should save you some peace of mind with the 408!"
He smiled and made to leave, and when he paused to say goodbye to mother, she asked him if he'd like to join us for dinner. He looked pleased, and a little awkward, almost shy, but he readily accepted. Mother had laid a place for him already, so we all sat down to eat. It looked like a typical family dinner, if you discounted Judy and her 'Hot Beaver' T-shirt and her violently clashing hair streaks and pierced lip...
Mother kept calling him 'Dr. Nixon', and he grinned.
"I think we can dispense with the formalities, my name's David!"
Mother also grinned, shyly.
"And my name's Julia, David!"
Ashley, Judy and I watched this with suppressed grins; it really was like watching two fourteen year-olds on their first date; which it was, in a way. The girls and I wolfed down our food and asked to be excused, mother looking at us in consternation at being left alone at the table with a man for the first time in several years, and asked why we were being so rude.
Judy piped up.
"I promised Ashley I'd help her with her math homework, so we need to crack on, and Nicky's very busy, aren't you, Nicky?" while jabbing me with a sharp elbow.
I was jolted into awareness of what she was saying.
"What? Oh...yes, I have this...thing I have to do, very busy, got to go now. So sorry!" and I bolted, promising we'd do the washing up later, so just leave everything in the kitchen.
Ashley and Judy were giggling like lunatics in our room, congratulating themselves on what good plotters they were. I was happy; dinner had gone well, mother had looked happy and relaxed, chatting about everything except our family, and Dr. Nixon looked really pleased to be in her company; maybe there really was something there, and if so, well, she deserved it.
Eventually Judy decided that she needed to be getting home, she had those assignments to finish for Monday, so she wanted to make a start, so with much hugging, she left, only to come back and call us out to silently creep down the hall so we could peek in the kitchen. Mother was washing, and 'David' was drying, both of them talking and making big eye contact, oblivious to the world.
Judy left and Ashley and I went back to our room to wait for Dr. Nixon to leave so we could interrogate mother. Eventually I heard him leaving, and we sneaked out to hear him ask mother out to dinner on Friday. She accepted, of course, no big surprise there, and thanked him with a peck on the cheek, making him smile in surprised pleasure. Like I said, like a pair of fourteen year-olds!
We said our good nights and Ashley and I returned to our room. I was excited; tonight I got to spend the night with my girl, for the first time, and the suspense was killing me! Ashley seemed to be feeling the same, and as soon as the door was closed, she pounced (figuratively speaking), wasting no time in getting my shirt off as I tugged her skin-tight 'Jeggings' off, discovering that she was indeed 'commando' underneath. Ashley slid my jeans and briefs off me, leaving me naked as I tugged her top off so she could join me. My cock was feeling the need for attention, and stood out straining, a fact she took note of as she kissed me, her hand working up and down as our tongues fenced and my hand found her moist pussy and lightly rubbed and slid around between her legs.
And someone knocked at the door! Ashley squealed as she dived for cover, and I stood there foolishly staring, unable to move if mother opened that door...
"Kids I'm heading to bed. Ashley don't stay up too late, you know it's a school night, and Nicky don't forget about what you told David, I mean Dr. Nixon. I love you, babies, and thank you, I had a fun night!" We heard her walk back down the hall, and then the sound of her bedroom door closing.
"Damn, Nicky tha
t was close," giggled Ashley, coming back up to my side and pushing my mouth closed. "Breathe, baby, that's it! It could have been so much worse; supposing she'd walked in and found me with my ass in the air and your dick in my mouth? Jeez! Tomorrow, before anything else, you're putting a lock on that fucking door!"
With that, she pushed me back towards the bed, making me sit down so she could kneel on the floor between my legs, her hands squeezing my balls as she slowly pumped my cock back to full recovery, then she started to kiss my length, from the root to the crown. I held my breath as she kissed and then licked the head, finally slipping her lips over the end to envelope me in the warm wetness of her mouth.
She started to suck, gently at first, then increasing the suction, her cheeks hollowing with the effort, and the effect on me was galvanising. I could feel my orgasm gathering, pressure building as she suctioned me, her head bobbing as she slid her lips up and down over the engorged head and her hands pumping me as she squeezed and fondled my balls rhythmically, readying them to empty into her.
The end came suddenly, as the dam inside me burst. I felt a wave of electricity mount up my spinal column, flaring all my nerve endings, to burst in a soundless pulse of white light behind my eyes, my stomach and thighs rippling and tensing in sweet anguish as the pleasure burned unbearably though me, and then suddenly all was released in a pulsing, muscular spasm that shot my sperm into her mouth in long, satisfying jets, pulse after pulse bursting out of me, filling her mouth again and again. Ashley swallowed and swallowed again, until I finally stopped ejaculating, wrung dry, for now, and she licked and sucked every last remnant of sperm from my cock, cleaning my head and licking me dry.
She looked up at me and smiled as I trembled and shuddered in the dying reaches of my orgasm, wondering how she could do that to me, giving thanks that she could.
"That should hold you for a while, stud!" she grinned, standing up and pushing me backwards to land on top of me.
She stood up and gently pushed me backwards, climbing on to the bed to lie next to me, her lips too close to resist, so I didn't. After a kiss that lasted a lifetime, she pulled away to grin at me, a grin I knew well by now. I bent my head down to kiss along her neck down her shoulder and further on down, to lick and gently bite her nipple, enjoying the little cries and starts she gave as I licked and sucked, first one nipple then the other. Meanwhile my hand had found her soft and very wet pussy, and as I kissed her I rubbed and stroked and touched her, feeling her lips swell and part as she became even more aroused.
One finger found its way into her, and slowly rubbed and touched between her folds of flesh, until it rubbed against the hard little nub of her clitoris. The effect on her was electric; her eyes snapped open, and she leaned up to push me onto my back, and she swung her leg over me to lie on me, her knees on either side of me as she kissed me. She sat up and grinned again, and took hold of my raging cock, lifting up to slide herself back down, the sensation of damp heat and soft velvety pressure as she engulfed me nearly taking my breath away.
Ashley began to rock, sliding herself up and down on me, and grinding against me as she did, her eyes closed as she brought herself off, that little smile never leaving her face. Her pussy was clenching and squeezing me, clasping and releasing as she tightened and relaxed her inner muscles, and the picture of her above me, her beautiful face rapt as she pleasured herself, all these things were having their effect on me.
I pumped back against her, definitely feeling the need rising again. Ashley sped up, pounding herself against me as she approached that peak, and then, suddenly, her orgasm crashed into her, and she stiffened and leaned forward, gasping as the waves of orgasm crashed through her, her pussy tightening around my throbbing cock as I lost it, pouring stream after stream of spunk into her, her clasping, squeezing pussy rippling as it massaged every drop of sperm out of my straining cock.
She slumped down, utterly spent, her heart hammering and her chest heaving as she fought for breath, my heart rate and breathing a close match. Eventually she raised her head to grin at me, and kiss me once on the tip of my nose.
"That was...amazing, we should do that again soon!"
I could only agree.
In the morning, once again, I took her to school, again going through the whole 'kissing her extravagantly' pantomime just to piss-off the people who'd given her such a hard time, although I enjoyed it thoroughly, as always, then headed off to the Nixon house to install that replacement compressor for Dr. Nixon.
As I predicted, it only took a few minutes, and it worked, as I knew it would, so he was a happy man, a very happy man, so happy he pressed three hundred dollars into my hand as a thank-you for saving him thousands more; not bad for 15 minutes work! When I made to leave, he called me inside, and asked me to wait while he made a couple of phone calls. That done, he came and sat with me.
"Nick, I just got off the phone with an old friend of mine. He has a specialist auto repair facility downtown, handling only European cars. I told him about you, and he's especially interested in the fact that you have a Lotus Mechanic certification; if he has you on board, he can get a Lotus dealership, something he's been trying to do for years; like me, he has a bit of a thing for hand-built British cars, and he wants to see you this afternoon, so I told him I'd bring you over; actually, I had to stop him coming over here right away!"
I thanked him profusely; maybe I was finally on my way to getting a job!
When I left, I mentioned how pleased my mother would be if I could get a job, it would certainly help buoy-up the family finances, and Dr. Nixon grinned.
"I'd certainly like to see her face when you tell her; Julia's a fine looking woman!" he admitted and then blushed scarlet as he realised he'd blurted out something he'd probably not meant to say out loud.
I had to hide a grin, and innocently asked him if he'd like to come home with me, so I could tell mother, and take him out to breakfast as a thank you. Of course he agreed, and we headed back to the house.
When we got there, mother was sitting on the couch, a large envelope in her hand, and a letter. She looked up at me, her face ashen, and that's when I knew something was badly wrong, as did Dr. Nixon. She handed me the letter wordlessly, and my eyes immediately blurred with tears as I recognised the handwriting; it had been on every birthday card and gift tag I'd ever received, on every school Report Card I'd ever brought home. It was Barbara's handwriting, and for a second I considered not reading it, but even a message from beyond the grave was something from her, a link, of sorts, and it was better than nothing...
I read, and as I read, my anger, and my gorge rose. I read it again, and looked at mother. "Mum...?" I croaked, the nausea pulsing through me, the clamour of it almost deafening me as my mouth filled with the sour taste of vomit.
She started crying and shaking, and David Nixon had to catch her or she'd have fallen.
"What is it, Nick, what's in the letter?" he demanded, and I sat down hard as my knees gave way.
I held the letter out. "I know who raped Ashley, and why...it's all here...!" I managed to say through tightly clenched teeth while mother cried and shuddered against him.
And then I had to stumble to the bathroom and be sick, to retch endlessly until I had nothing left to throw up, and only the pain remained as I dry heaved.
I sat huddled against the bathroom wall, the cold tiles feeling frigid against the heat radiating from my face. My throat burned, and my sides ached from vomiting so long and so hard. I couldn't think straight, except to home in on that one huge, horrifying fact. Ashley had been raped, violated, and abused, and it was no impulse crime, no isolated opportunist attack on a defenceless girl; it had been planned, masterminded, set-up; that sick, sick fucker, what kind of mental state did you have to be in to do something like that?
I could hear Mum crying, weeping hysterically as David tried to console her and calm her down, and I thought briefly that it should be me comforting her, but I couldn't bring myself to stand, walk in there and see
her face, not knowing what I did now. Now I wanted to kill someone, at last I felt the urge to truly hurt someone, to keep on hurting them until they were past all pain.
Barbara, my real Mum in all but fact, the one person who'd kept me sane as she brought me up, had unveiled what my father had done, how he'd plotted and planned and carried out that cowardly, evil, bastardly act for no reason other than to salvage his own ego. Barbara had told us how he did it, sent Mum all the details she could find, and then she'd died; the postmark on the envelope was the day I was busily getting my new passport. I was preparing for a new life, and she was losing hers.
I sat bolt upright as a horrifying thought shot through me; dear God, was this why she'd died? The thought of that was too terrible to contemplate, and I heard a low moaning; it was a while before I realised it was me, hovering on the edge of hysteria. She'd died after telling Mum the truth, had she died because she'd told Mum the truth, had she died for helping me come here? I begged God, Yahweh, Buddha, anyone or anything who was listening; please not that, don't make it my fault, please don't let her have died because of me, not after all she'd done for me, anything but that...
I dropped my head down to my hands and cried for her, for what I was sure I'd brought on her, and swore again the same oath I'd sworn in London, after I'd seen the news of her death. I swore that I would give him a lifetime of pain and blood and suffering for all he'd done. I swore I would be there to shove the knife in him, and when I'd stared into his eyes, and seen him recognise me and know who had stuck that knife into him. Then I was going to twist it, and twist it again, and cause him pain that no prayers to God, man or devil would release him from.
Mum had said she was glad I wasn't the man my father was, but now I knew she was wrong because I wanted to do things to him that only a sick, depraved, evil rat-fuck like him would be capable of. If I was my father's son, so much the better, I would hurt him in ways only he could devise for what he'd done to me and mine, to my Ashley, to my Mum, and most of all to the one I had always loved like a mother.