Chapter 6
Posted: February 06, 2009 - 02:05:53 pm
Jean wasn’t really fooled, either; Candace’s movements and her spastic clutching of her lounger went beyond mere pleasure at a massage. Despite the fact that Jean couldn’t see her expression, she was sure of what the rest of her reactions represented — and it brought her to the point of desperation!
Candace shuddered a few more times, relaxed, stretched, and turned over, smiling at Beth. Looking up at Rick over her other shoulder (facing Jean), she murmured, "Now do my back…" adding a grin at Jean.
Jean had had enough! Lurching bolt-upright, she stuttered, "I—I’ve got to … go do some things…"
Again, Toby got it; Jean was strung out to her maximum, but there was no way that she was going to do ANYTHING in public! That being the case, Toby didn’t try to pin her to the lounger, but instead gave her a hand to rise from the chair — and didn’t let go.
Candace knew what was up, too — and this looked like it might simplify things. Therefore, she got off Jean’s back, murmuring, "All right, Honey — you run along and take care of things. Toby, why don’t you go with her?"
Jean’s relief at her release was so great that she totally neglected the fact that she still had Toby to deal with. Still holding his hand, she took off for the house, her mind on ferreting out possible objects for use in assuaging her incredible arousal. A hairbrush handle, maybe? Why, oh why had she been too proud to buy a dildo…
Toby let this go on until they were through the slider and into the kitchen, then he reminded her that there was a man attached to her right hand by jerking her to him and wrapping his right arm around her waist. "Where are we going?"
Shock brought Jean the ability to bluster, "WE’RE going NO — mmmph!"
Toby’s hand over her mouth stopped her — but he removed it immediately. "You know you brought a man with you for a very good reason — because you need one!"
"But Toby — you’re not a man, yet!"
Toby took Jean’s right hand and placed it on his erection, "You KNOW better, Jean!"
That throbbing staff of hot meat seared Jean’s hand; she couldn’t remove it. "This isn’t supposed to happen! You’re supposed to stop!" she wailed.
Toby took her right nipple in his left hand, gently pinching it while his right slid down to cup her left buttock. Staring deep into her eyes, he murmured, "No, Jean. You were to believe that — or pretend to yourself that you believed it — long enough to let you come this far, to the point where you HAVE to acknowledge your needs! I was NEVER supposed to stop — but it IS time for YOU to stop — stop fighting us both!"
It was the big play; Toby presented her with a thoroughly adult appraisal of her self-deception while maintaining the pressure, keeping her body at a fever pitch of desire. It was the right play, too, showcasing her childish denial while deflating her contention that he wasn’t an adult, narrowing the gap — or even reversing — their emotional ages. But would it work?
There was a joker in the deck; Toby played it, all unknowing, when he dropped his hand to Jean’s ass cheek. Jean — not the shy, inhibited public Jean, but the uninhibited private Jean who had once spent night after night joyfully riding her husband’s penis, virtually insatiably, every night for over a decade before his untimely death — loved to have her ass played with! She enjoyed anal sex and could even orgasm from it — but the best thing was having a finger probing gently around her little rubbery ring, probing the defenses there. Toby’s hand on her ass was an instant distraction and a multiplier for her already insane level of arousal; when he squeezed the cheek and his middle finger accidentally touched her anus, her body reacted, the tiny opening flowering open and kissing his fingertip while her left leg came up to wrap around his. Jean’s eyes, locked on Toby’s widened in shock; both of them knew in that moment that her body had surrendered, and that her mental vacillations were irrelevant. Toby leaned in and applied his lips to Jean’s delicate neck, consolidating his hold on her, and murmured, "Let’s go."
Jean was bewildered; her mind kept telling her that what she was doing was TOTALLY WRONG — but it didn’t help, because her body was totally ignoring it! Jean had gone too long without the joy of a man’s touch, and her defenses — her shyness and her awful taste in wardrobe — were useless, close-in. Toby had poked big fat holes in them on Monday; today, they were in shreds as the electrified nerves in her neck caused her to clutch the source of her long-overdue pleasure to her.
Jean heard Toby tell her that it was time to move, but that meant letting go — unwrapping her left arm and leg from around him, and — worse — her right hand from that staff of vitality that promised her pleasure in the quantity that she craved but had denied herself for so long. Toby recognized this reluctance for what it was, stroking her flank with his left hand and suckling her neck and ear for a moment before coaxing, "Come on, we need to go somewhere private…"
"Yesss…" Privacy. THAT was a concept that her mind could impart to her body and make stick! Reluctantly, she unwrapped herself from Toby and turned to lead him off, by the one appendage that she could NOT bring herself to abandon — his beautiful penis! Her hand hadn’t left it since he’d placed it there; she couldn’t bring herself to release his staff of power and vitality.
Toby found himself following Jean closely, his hand on her shoulder while he dealt with the consequences of her odd choice in grips. For one thing, they were NOT headed for the den, as planned; no, Jean was headed upstairs — apparently, having sex in her bedroom was NOT bad ju-ju, as Lon had supposed! What was he supposed to do? Kick off his shoes at the door … The stairs were tricky, when you were being led around by the cock … Which one went where? Oh, yeah, the left got kicked away … The maneuver wasn’t neat, by any means; Jean saw it and had the presence of mind to recognize it for what it was and smile, which Toby found embarrassing. But then they were through the bedroom door…
Doubt, self-delusion, and self-justification went out the window for Jean on the stair, to be replaced by resolution — you just didn’t lead a man around your house by the penis unless you intended to use it! Guilt and recriminations would no doubt arrive later, but for now, there was the realization that the only person she had been fighting was herself — and that had been a delaying action since Monday. Everyone else was apparently either actively engaged in putting Toby in her bed, laughing at her for her foolishness, or both…
Toby took in the room peripherally — it wasn’t a woman’s room, by some indefinable standard; it was a room shared by a man and a woman — and the fact that the man was no longer present was irrelevant. Where he could have felt like an interloper, Toby was comfortable; Ma’s room had the same feel to it, like it was waiting for Pa to return. In Jean’s case, as in Ma’s, there would be no return of the original occupant — but he COULD be replaced … Undoubtedly, Toby realized, this male occupancy thing was what Lon had characterized as bad ju-ju; just as undoubtedly, it was irrelevant…