Jen's Legacy.

He was difficult to ignore so close to her, touching her so personally as she sat where she was with him kneeling in front of her, and both of them almost naked, and the cold rain falling on him.

He should have put his shirt on to protect his back; or she could put it over them both, but then he would see even more… and then she’d never be able to do anything.

She didn’t care so much now, about the small things, and shouldn’t, so she lifted his shirt from covering her and swung it over his back, bringing it over them both, bringing him closer to her, enclosing them under it in that little cocoon where he would be able to see, and hear, and smell everything she did, but where their warm breath would be trapped and would help keep them warm.

He pulled her closer, kissing her naval, now that she was exposed to him again, and then kissing her breasts, gently mouthing at them as he smiled mischievously up at her, and then rested his head between her legs and blew his warm breath down into her there, riffling those hairs, setting her squirming again and giggling, putting her farther away from being able to pee, despite a few brief, false starts.

He would be a never-ending torment, but she loved it and everything he was doing. This was who and what he was, and this, was how they would be with each other for all of time, after this.

“Royce! You are still distracting me.” She feigned being annoyed with him.

“Distracting? Not for long. You’ll soon get used to this, and after you pee, we can get warm together by the fire, and in that sleeping bag. It should be very warm by now.” And with the promise of so much more to happen after that.

Her mind was a protesting jumble of emotions and confusion, while her body protested too.

“Think of anything, Claire… your very first kiss at a birthday party. The first time you allowed some bold young man to touch you, to caress your breasts; investigate into your panties.”

She was shocked, and he felt it.

“Surely you were not able to evade all of those little hazards of a girl growing up, and that so-eager, horny-little-boy who would never leave you alone, wanting so desperately to show you his, and please will you let me see yours in return, and may I try to push this into you, pretty please?”

He smiled up at her suggestively. “I’ll show you mine any time you would like to see it, you know? Especially now. I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to play with it either, as I play with yours.”

She gurgled and had to laugh. He should stop. How did he manage to think of all of these shocking things?

She had not grown up like that, and could not tell him that being kissed and having her breasts touched, or that other part touched or caressed either, had happened to her for the very first time only two days ago when he had done that for her after undressing her. Though there had been a good reason for him touching her like that then. Although maybe not. She’d ask him about that, soon.

He leaned in and kissed her breasts again, putting her even farther away from what she needed to do.

He knew that she would ‘go’ eventually when her body insisted upon it and she could no longer fight the feeling, or him.

He would have to give-in that same way to her too, when he could no longer resist her entreaties, and would have to break down to make love to her as she wanted. Unless she did it for herself as he lay under her and she did what he’d said Jen had done, letting gravity do it for her as she deflowered herself upon him.

If she hadn’t needed to pee, or had gone earlier, they could have been making love even now. All she would need to do would be to bring him closer to her, between her legs.

But not with her having a full bladder to contend with.

He was thinking exactly the same thing, about making love to her with them being so close together. He took his mind off that, before it became any more tempting, but she would see that change in him and know.

He continued trying to distract her.

“Think of your first date; attending the high school prom…” She had done neither of those things either.

“Think of the time you convinced yourself that you had fallen in love for the first time, as you were growing up…”

It hadn’t happened.

Her childhood had been different. She had not mixed with many other children her age, so knew nothing about boys, but she knew exactly when she had fallen in love. It had been on that climb away from the river, if not before then. She would need to think about that and try to pin it down better. She had the feeling that it had begun earlier, but she had not wanted to admit that it was happening. She’d had too much to deal with at that moment.

Her grandmother would be sure to ask her when she got back home, and they would certainly see that something had changed about her. Everything she and Royce had done to each other by then, would be written all over her face. She could announce how they could congratulate her at last. She was no longer a damned virgin, but had been fucked royally, relentlessly, unremittingly, mercilessly--and any other adverb she could think of to throw into the mix-- and had been fucked every hour for the last few days, and was proud of it, and to please meet Royce! The man who’d done it to her, fucked her, and was still doing it. And wanted to do it again, even now, and look at the size of him!

Drum roll. Kaboom! Fireworks!

And then they would excuse themselves once more and rush off into some remote part of the house or garden, and fuck again. She had no difficulty ‘thinking’ of that word... it was just, using it out loud that she balked at.

Yes, that would go over big. Claire would want to tell her grandmother some of how she and Royce had met, but not all of it. What else she would dare to tell her, was up for negotiation. Her Gran could be very persuasive when she wanted to be. Claire had few secrets from her Gran. That would also have to change.

Royce must be able to see her blushing confusion even more clearly now, after those thoughts paraded through her mind.

She wanted to think, instead, of that time when they would first make love, properly. They had come close to it last night, but she had not found the courage to grasp him firmly and make it happen, and had left it to him, merely giving him every opening, every opportunity; an open invitation, except he had not wanted to hurt her. She’d sensed how he’d held back from her no matter how excited he got, though he had ejaculated into her several times, but only just inside her and not where he should have been; well-into-her; ball deep, as she’d heard…. Those dreadful girls again.

He was still trying to help her. “Think about anything, Claire. Tell me of your rafting trip… before you fell overboard”—and changed her entire life as well as his— “what made you sign up for that venture?”

He slowly moved her legs apart again, and touched her under there once more, trying to get her used to him doing that, feeling her tense up at first, and then feeling her relax into his touch, accepting that he would always want to touch, and to torment, and would. This was him, who he was.

Not long now for either of those things. To pee, or not to pee.

He was not going to leave her alone, so she had better get used to it, and accept that this was him, and how he would behave with her from this moment forward; a never-ending but delightful torment, constantly putting her on edge, just like a big dog nosing under your skirt to find out about those delightful smells, goosing you at the most unexpected moment and setting you squealing, dancing and gasping, feeling that cold wet nose suddenly pushing at you in a tender place, taking you by surprise. A cold, wet nose was one thing; that other part of his, was something else again!

She would never relax under such an impossible onslaught.

She closed her eyes, leaned forward, and talked, answering his questions to take her mind off that cougar; the lightning, still flashing around them every couple of minutes; moving farther away now... and the thunder; while she sat in front of him, as good as naked and both of them beginning to feel the cold.

She had already made a few false starts that she could feel trickling down her vulva, tickling her in those hairs and then running down over her backside like a trail of ants, until he cleared the hair from her again, setting her back for only a second.

It would serve him right if she peed on his fingers; for all that would bother him. He was a man, and nothing seemed to bother him, no matter how personal it was for her.

She wanted to laugh one moment and cry the next, except he wouldn’t let her retreat until she had completed what she needed to do.

The entire situation was absurd; embarrassingly absurd; being encouraged, helped, and held, by a man she had known for such a short time. And she was in love with him. That, made all of the difference