“I know,” I whispered in her ear.
I think Jeana fell asleep on me for a few minutes. Her breathing became very slow and regular, and she simply wasn’t moving, at least until I stopped rubbing her back. That change seemed to rouse her, and she rolled off of me and sat up. “Oh my God, we’re a mess!” she exclaimed as she saw how we were both covered in sweat and come.
“That simply means we were doing it right,” I commented.
“You’re awful!” She looked around wildly until she found where I had tossed her clothing. “Do you think my parents will find out?”
“Well I certainly don’t plan to tell them,” I replied, which got me a dirty look. “Seriously, how will they learn?” I sat up as well. “They’ll be home by six, I’ll be gone before five. You’ll have gone upstairs by then and taken a shower. Air out the basement and spray some Lysol or something, and toss this old blanket in the wash.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“That’s because it is. Listen, tomorrow, you come over to my place. I don’t have to worry about anybody coming in early.”
Jeana rolled her eyes at that. “Yeah, like they’re going to drive me over to your apartment.”
“Again, you worry too much. Tell them I coming over in the morning and we’re going to go bowling, and you won’t be back until after dinner. Do you think they would have a problem with that?” I asked.
“Not when you say it like that.”
“Okay, then. In fact, why don’t you have the same sort of underwear on to visit me that I had on to visit you?”
Jeana roared in laughter. “Oh, like they wouldn’t notice that when I came home. And besides, could you imagine me trying to bowl with these things bouncing all over the place?” She cupped her boobs and jiggled them.
“Well, it would certainly make bowling a far more interesting sport,” I replied.
“You’re hopeless! You’re still mad at me for beating you the last time.”
“Yeah? You’ve heard of strip poker? How about strip bowling! That’d be one hell of a spectator sport!”
Jeana snorted and laughed, and just shook her head. She stood up and grabbed her robe, and pulled that on, and then picked up her pajamas and undies. “I’m thirsty and hungry. Let’s get lunch.” I just nodded and pulled on my pants and shirt. I followed her up the stairs.
Jeana pulled a can of soup out of the pantry. “Here, make yourself useful. I need to go up and clean up. Give me about fifteen minutes.”
I snapped her a silly salute. “Yes, ma’am! What did you want to drink?”
“Coke is fine.” She left the room and I puttered about the kitchen for a bit, finding where the pots and pans were, and pulling out a pan to make soup in. After that, I kept looking until I found some bowls and glasses.
It was closer to twenty minutes before Jeana returned, and I had the soup on a slow simmer at that point. I also had cut a couple of slices of Italian bread and buttered them. Jeana came in wearing a different bathrobe than the terry cloth one from this morning. This was much prettier, a knee length green satin robe. It was also quite obvious from the way she moved around that it was all she had on. Her hair was damp, so I knew she had taken a fast shower.
“Have I told yet today just how beautiful you are?” I asked.
“This morning, but thank you,” she said, smiling.
“I like the robe.”
“It’s actually one of my mom’s. She gave it to me last year. She said it really didn’t fit her anymore.” She giggled and pulled at the lapels, pulling it out from her chest. “She said she outgrew it!”
I laughed at that. “Well, it sure looks good on you. You should be glad.”
“Why?”
“There’s an old saying — if you want to know what a girl is going to look like in twenty years, take a look at her mother. Your mother is very nice, so you’re going to be very nice in twenty years.”
“You were looking at my mother!?”
“Hey, I’m a guy. We look at all women. It’s the way we’re made.”
“You’re a pig!” she replied.
I made several oinking noises and then poured about half the soup in her bowl. The rest went into mine, and I poured some Coke and put the bread on a plate next to her soup. “Thank you. You’re still a pig, though,” she said.
“Oink, oink, oink! Want to go play with me in the mudpit after lunch. It’s what us pigs love to do!”
“Not dressed in this, I don’t!”
“That’s okay. I bet it comes off.” She colored at this, but smiled. We sat at the table eating and talking, just enjoying being together. I was seeing aspects of Jeana I had never seen back before, probably because we were simply more intimate with each other now. She was simply a lot of fun to be with, and very easy to talk to. And, while I hadn’t understood it at the time, she simply smoldered with sexuality. Just walking around a room, fully clothed, she radiated that she was all woman, and happy to prove it! I wondered about her parents. Maybe it was an Italian thing, because her mother had it too, although she covered it up well with the whole housewife and working mom routine. I suspected Jeana’s father was a happy husband.
After lunch I cleaned up the kitchen, and loaded the dishwasher. Then it was time for the afternoon matinee. I led Jeana back to the basement. The room still had a smell of sex and sweat, and I reminded myself to make sure Jeana hit it with a deodorizer after I left. I sat down in the armchair again, and Jeana crawled into my lap. “Now, where were we again? I think I lost my place.”
“We were just about to get undressed and make love some more,” she replied.
“Hmmm, I don’t know. Don’t we have to wait until two hours after eating?”
“That’s swimming, you doofus!”
“Oh, right. Okay, so we can’t have sex while swimming until two hours after lunch.”
That earned me another giggle, and Jeana took matters into her own hands, in a matter of speaking. She wrapped her arms around my neck and started kissing me. It seemed like a good idea, so I kissed her back. I let my fingers do the walking again and untied the sash holding her satin robe together. Much as I expected, she was wearing invisible pajamas. “I think I like these pajamas even better,” I commented.
“I thought you might.”
I began softly caressing her stomach, and idly tracing a fingertip around her belly button. “You know, sooner or later, you’re going to have to tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
I slipped a finger lower down her body, to tease her through her trim little bush. “Tell me if you touched yourself at night.” I slipped a finger inside her and diddled her clit, earning a sharp gasp and a flood of warm pussy juice on my finger. “I’m going to make you tell me.”
She laughed a little, but was content to relax in my arms as I played with her body. “Nope, nope, nope. Never going to tell.”
“I know how to make you.”
“How?”
I pulled my hand away. “By stopping.”
Jeana’s eyes widened at that. She had been building up to an orgasm, and now I had suddenly stopped. “Ooh, that’s mean!”
“I’m a mean kind of guy.”
“See if I’m nice to you!” she pouted.
I leaned down and licked her ear. “I want you to show me what you did to yourself. You did, didn’t you? Don’t lie. I know you did. Do it now, show me what you did,” I whispered lowly. I began caressing her stomach again, but kept my hands from her tits and pussy.
Jeana gave me a whimper. “Oh, don’t be mean!” She put her hands on my wrist and tried to push them back to her pussy.