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I resisted. “I want to see what you did. I want you to tell me what you like to do. Show me. Teach me how to make it even better for you.”

“No…” she answered weakly, still trying to make me touch her.

“You want me to. You need me to touch you. You know it will feel even better than when you do it. Show me what you want me to do to you.” I was breathing heavily into her ear, licking her earlobe and neck as I did so, and Jeana was squirming on my lap.

I continued to torment her for just another minute or so, and then she quietly whispered, “Yes.”

I immediately stop resisting her hands. “Where do you want me to touch you?” I asked. Jeana pushed my hand back down between her legs. “Show me. Use my fingers like yours.” After a few seconds, Jeana’s fingers took my index finger and put it directly on her clit, and began moving it. “Do you like that?” I asked.

“Yes.” Jeana was almost whimpering with relief as she used my finger to masturbate.

“What else did you do? What about your other hand? Where was it?”

Jeana surprised me. I had expected that her other hand would be rubbing her tits, which is the way Marilyn used to masturbate. Jeana instead pulled my other hand from behind her and pushed it between her legs as well. This was very awkward, sitting on my lap like this. I stopped and we moved back down to the blankets on the floor. Jeana promptly lay back and spread her legs wide apart, and then took both my hands and pushed them back to her crotch. Her legs were splayed open, and she was using her fingers to both spread her pussy wide and move inside and to frantically rub her clit. I took over, using both hands on her as well, but I also leaned down and began sucking on her nipples. That sent her off like a rocket, and she screamed as the orgasm rushed through her. It must have been a good one, because she was shaking all over, and her ass was humping up off the floor as I did it.

I kept up until she begged me to stop. She looked happy, but exhausted. “Were you as loud as that?” I teased her.

“It’s better with you here,” she replied.

“I told you I could make you talk.”

“You can torture me that way any time you want.” She glanced down at my pants, where she could see my erection straining to break free. “What about you?”

“I don’t know. I think I’m a tough guy. Maybe you should try torturing me for a while.”

In short order, I found myself naked again, and Jeana was working me over. I decided it was time for another lesson, so I had Jeana kneel, and I introduced her to the doggy style. This proved extremely popular, and I fucked her this way until I came inside her.

By four-thirty, we had both managed to make love one more time, this time with me on top, and we were simply beat. I dressed and kissed my love good-bye after we cleaned up the evidence in the basement. Jeana was planning on another shower, and I headed home for a shower and nap. I might fuck myself to death with her, but I’d sure go out with a smile on my face!

Chapter 20: Academic Plans

And that’s how we spent the entire Christmas break. Some days I would go over to Jeana’s and we would screw our brains out, other days I would pick her up, we’d goof off, and then go back to my apartment and screw our brains out. Isn’t it just awful when you get in a rut like that? That first day at my apartment I told her what had happened to me at Christmas. Jeana was horrified, but for the first time really understood why I had to leave.

School started up again, though, and we had to cool it. It was back to no dates on weeknights, and only getting laid on weekends. Jeana’s birthday was in mid-January, so I made reservations for dinner and bought her a tennis bracelet to go with her necklace. That weekend her monthly visitor showed up again, so nothing much happened, but I managed to get her off anyway, and I got another couple of handjobs out of it.

Aunt Peg called me a few days after New Years. Suzie must have gotten her address, along with Aunt Nan’s. It was a bit curious, though. I think the two of them must have talked and decided that Aunt Peg, my godmother, would call me. First she called Mom, which went over about as well as I expected. Then she called me. I didn’t go into too many details with her, but both she and Aunt Nan had witnessed Hamilton’s tantrum meltdown at Thanksgiving dinner.

She offered to let me move in with her, but I declined politely. They had a small three bedroom bungalow, with all three bedrooms occupied. I would end up living in the basement of a house with a sump pump that ran 24/7, and when the power stopped, that basement got very damp. Once, during a hurricane, when the power was out for two days, they ended up with three feet of water down there! Besides, no way in the world did I want to move to Pikesville!

As promised, I went over to the Colosimo home the weekend after New Years and made Sunday dinner. I had given Jeana the ingredients list and her mother had picked up what I needed. The fun was that I actually used Jeana as my galley slave and had her cook the meal, while I supervised. Jeana’s parents, especially her mother, found this hilarious. Coq au vin is fairly simple to make. I cut the boneless chicken breasts in half, sliced up the ham and mushrooms, and measured out the spices and wine first, while I had Jeana get out all the skillets and pots and pans. Then I put Jeana to work. I had her dredge the chicken pieces in flour and sauté them, and then she added the ham, mushrooms, spices, and wine. We simmered that for about forty-five minutes, adding some water as needed to keep it from drying out and to make a nice gravy.

I also showed her how to make a Dijon sauce, and we had that over some steamed cauliflower. Add in some rolls and some rice to serve with the chicken. It’s all simple enough, but requires the timing you only get through experience. Jeana was very proud to have made it, and her mother approved heartily, commenting that she couldn’t get her daughter to do anything in the kitchen! Jeana’s father was somewhat more suspicious of it all, or he was until I told him that the recipe was actually very similar to chicken saltimbocca, except the ham wasn’t prosciutto, and we left out the cheese. Once I told him there was an Italian version he quickly came around, which got smiles from both of the ladies. This must have been a recurring event.

The big doings in January occurred in school. I was college bound. As long as I was enrolled at Towson High and taking classes there, they would pay for me to go take classes over at Towson State. I was signed up for a semester of calculus and a semester of physics. This actually proved tricky. I had my schedule from Towson High, and I would need to find classes which would fit into this schedule. Otherwise I would need to rearrange my high school schedule.

This was trickier than you might imagine. In the future, you would be able to schedule everything over the Internet. You could register, pick out classes, determine schedules, and so forth all by computer. Not in those days. You basically had to stand in long lines and do everything in person. I had already enrolled and pre-registered, and received a packet of information, but so had everybody else. I went over there early in the morning the day of registration, parked, and took my packet and found the line for A-B, and went to the end. By mid-morning I was at the head of the line. A registration person read over my paperwork and walked away to a massive table filled with boxes of computer punch cards. She fished out two punch cards, one for the physics section I wanted and another for the calculus section I wanted, and handed them back to me. I was directed to another table and another line. In this line I was to find that the physics section was already overbooked, and asked to go back for another try. Supposedly they only issued enough punch cards for each class, but it always seemed that something went wrong.