Cumming Of Age 5

She looked up from the television screen, her elfin face pale. I watched her eyes widen and then fill with tears.

She dropped her jaw. "What? How....shit. Shit. Shit." She dropped her gym bag. She dropped her shoulders and slumped into a chair. "What do you want?" The thought hit her and she looked at me full on. "You...you're not...you're not going to put this on the web?" Her face was so beautiful – her forehead wide and flat narrowing to the fine point of her chin. She shivered, even though the weather was unusually warm.

"

I'm

not going to put it on the web, but your friend there," I stopped the video and pointed to a figure off to the side holding his phone up. "It looks like he might have been streaming live. You have to admit, your mouth was doing something truly amazing on that guy, right?"

She turned back to look at the screen and shook her head. It was too much all at once. This shouldn't have been happening. Maybe it was a bad dream. Why me? The typical denial stage. Damn if she wasn't more beautiful being so vulnerable. "So...what do you want?"

"It's not so much what

I

want, Robbie. It's what you want. What do

you

want? Do you really want that shit all over the web? But far more importantly, did you think your parents wouldn't find out?"

That's when it hit her. She looked back at me, her eyes pleading, her head shaking no, no. "No. Please. You wouldn't. They'd ground me, like, for fucking ever. No way. What do I need to do. Anything. Just. Don't. Show. Them. That." She was pointing to the screen, at a particularly nice close up of her sucking a guy's cock in her basement. She put her face into her hands and leaned over, trying to avoid the larger than life image of her mouthwork.

"Look. I didn't make the rules. Your folks asked me to look after the house while they were away. You knew that. 'No parties,' they said. And to me, off to the side, they specifically said, 'Don't let Robbie have anyone over.' I guess you have some history or something, yeah?"

She didn't respond, her body shaking slightly.

"So anyway, you've got a choice, right? You can just tell 'em you had a few guys over – nothing special – or not. But I gotta tell 'em something, 'cause I'm sure some of the other neighbors saw all the cars last night. And, Robbie, I...you put me in kind of a difficult position..." I waited, letting her catch her breath. It was a little overwhelming, even to me.

"But Phil," she looked up, her face blotchy and wet. "Why do you have to be so mean?" She looked devastated.

"Mean? I'm supposed to be an

adult

. Mean.

I'm

not the one who screwed up." Typical 18 year-old: mature enough to fuck around, but not mature enough to figure out all of the consequences.

"But...do you

have

to tell on me?"

"Look. I made a commitment to your parents. Look after the house. Now...what am I supposed to do?"

"But..." she looked so pitiful. I could feel my cock getting hard.

"Anyway. You're an adult, right? You turned 18, what, 6 months ago, yeah? You chose to have those guys over. You chose to strip for them, and shit...all that" I waived at the image on the screen. She couldn't look at it. I loved it, her mouth was so

big

. "It's not like you're a virgin, right?"

She slumped some more. "Fuck."

I love it when young women swear. It sends a warm vibe up my spine.

"You don't have to decide right now. They don't come home until tomorrow and I can avoid them for a little while, but then I'll have to say something...or not. Why don't you go to the gym and think about it during your workout. Maybe it will clear your head. When you've made up your mind what you want to do, let me know."

She left, shaking her head, tears in her eyes. She was fucked and she knew it.

I puttered around the house, my cock at half-mast the whole time. Would she or wouldn't she?

The proverbial 'girl-next-door,' except, I was old enough to be her father. She'd been over tons of times playing with my own daughters and then...then she grew up. My own family was gone – it had been 18 months and I was still putting the pieces together. The neighbors – all of them, not just Robbie and her folks – had been amazingly kind.

But it was Robbie that kept catching my eye. Tall – really tall – and slender, except her hips had filled out a little and her breasts. When she ran in the morning, I would look out my window and every time I would stop to figure out who the new college kid was. Every time. She had blossomed into such a beautiful young woman. I knew she was almost family, and there was no way she was even remotely interested in me. Like I said, I could have been her father.

But then she went and did something stupid, like most teenagers, and had a party when her folks were taking a much needed vacation. If they hadn't specifically called me and said "No parties. Please put a stop to anything. Robbie is not to have anyone over while we're gone. She's lost her privileges, yeah?" I wouldn't have noticed a thing. So when the cars started arriving – only a couple actually – I got interested. And when the house stayed dark, except a glow coming from the basement window I got a little more interested. When I peeked in, there was Robbie, stripped to her bra and panties with about six guys staring at her, the beat of a heavy bass guitar thumping. She was still at it when I returned with the video camera, only now, the guys were down to their skivvies. It was looking like a great party – a real cluster if she played her cards right.

Looking at it again, I could see the beer cans and ashtrays – probably could make out some pot....yep, a couple of jays being passed around. This one was a no brainer. As much as I hated playing the cop, I know her folks would have done the same for me. Except...I stared at her naked breasts on the screen, the guy's cock sliding into her open mouth, her eyes half closed. She was loving every second of

that.

I fantasized that was me...but then I could show her so much more than

that

.

The phone rang as I was preparing dinner.

"What do expect me to do?" She had been crying.

"Have you had dinner?" I wasn't sure what her orientation to food was, but I wanted company mostly and she was easy on the eyes.

'Dinner? You want me to come to dinner?"

"You don't have any plans, do you? Just come over – you don't have to eat, just come over and we can talk." I thought about how to ease her into this without coming off as a complete pervert.

It was getting dark when the door bell rang. Standing there, framed in the light of the front hall, she looked radiant, her eyes red rimmed from crying, but her body an amazing study in grace and curve.

I gestured her to go to the kitchen and followed behind.

"I discussed it with my friends and they said it was the only thing I could do."

"Discussed 'it?"

"Your proposal, deal...whatever."

"But I haven't proposed anything, exactly. Did you tell them who I was?" This could get very dicey if she had confided in her friends already.

She shot a look at me, wondering if I would make it even worse for her for having said something she shouldn't have. "Not specifically..."

"Why don't you fill me in on the details while I cook – are you hungry? Are you a vegetarian?"

She answered no to both and went into a roundabout discussion of what she'd been posting on Facebook, pulling out her laptop – weren't those things like surgically attached to every kid these days? It was all fairly oblique – she'd had a few guys over without her folks knowing, someone had found out and threatened to tell them unless she persuaded them not to. The consensus was she should try and negotiate with the guy, even if it meant what everyone figured it meant.

"So? Does it mean what we think it means?" She had worn a sweater and blue jeans. The kitchen was warm and she slipped the sweater off, leaving a button down gingham shirt. An interesting move considering the situation. I licked my lips and turned away before she could see me, my cock stiffening a little.

"Here's the deal: that obviously wasn't the first time for you, right?" I waited until I had her attention and expected an answer. She didn't look me in the eye but shook her head, staring at the formica tabletop. "Do you have a reputation?"

She laughed at the word – so old school. "Like, am I a whore?" She just shook her head, sniffling a little.

"Okay, are you?"

She looked up at me, all concerned. "No! I...I don't even remember everything that happened last night. I...think they may have slipped me a roofie...or something."

I wasn't buying it. It sounded like a script she'd worked up with her friends. "Hmmm...You taking care of yourself?"

She frowned and nodded. "So...what...do...you...expect?" She kept her eyes on the table, like I was punishing her. Too soon for that, but I was getting aroused at her submissiveness.

"Okay, this isn't going the way either of us would like it to, right? Let's see if we can try again. Right now, you have a decision to make – not my decision, yours: do you come clean to your folks, take your punishment and get it over with, or do you play games with me for awhile and get out from under it?" I tried to be as gentle as possible, kind of like a school counselor, not like a 45 year old pervert who was planning on ravishing her to her wits' end. And I would, and she would, before we were finished. But she needed to come to that place on her own. I wasn't going to coerce her.

"Shit, shit, shit." She put her head down onto her arms and sobbed silently. I put spaghetti into a pot of boiling water and puttered around. "Games. What kind of games?"

"It looked to me, like you were playing with those boys just fine last night. What if I could give you a few pointers? Help you develop your skills in the art of sex a little? You want to learn what will really turn those guys on? How you can have them eating out of your hand? Or other places much more sensitive and delightful? I'm happy to be your coach..." Her head popped up and she looked at me, her eyes narrowing and then opening wider at the change in outlook. Me help

her

? It hadn't crossed her mind. She had figured I was going to blackmail her, fuck her for sure or god's knows what. It doesn't matter what she thought. I

was

going to make sure she understood who was boss, but I had to get her to believe I had something to offer, not just the asshole next door neighbor.

"But you're still going to fuck me, even if I'm your student." Her voice trembled a little; saying the words out loud forced tears from her eyes.

She had always been smart. Really smart. And I liked really smart women. I shrugged and left it unanswered. "You're welcome to stay and have dinner with me – get to know me a little – before you decide. Like I said, they're not expected back until tomorrow night, right? So you could sleep on it if you wanted. But for now, if you're hungry, why not hang out for a little."

She just stared at me, those huge doe-eyes in that slim elfin face. I got lost in those eyes. All I could see were those eyes, staring into that kid's pubic hair as she took his cock into her mouth. I knew she had already decided. The fact she was sitting at my table even discussing it was proof enough, but

she

hadn't figured it out yet.

I tried to keep the conversation about anything other than her or me. I chatted about the neighbors, pointing out the guy across the street and how he was fucking the divorcee next door. "It's pretty racy, actually. He has her under some kind of spell, I swear to god. He leaves the curtains open and forces her to do the most amazing things." I said it as if it were the milk delivery, nonchalant and neutral. She bit.

"What do you mean?" She took a mouthful of pasta and looked at me for the first time. She must have had a metabolism of a hummingbird – she was wolfing her food down; I'd hoped I'd made enough.

"Well, I don't know when it started, probably shortly after Bill – her husband – took off, but

I

started noticing her spending a lot more time at his place. And then, one night, I was just sitting on the porch after dusk. I didn't have any lights on, so I suppose they thought I was out, or maybe it was part of his plan all along, I have no idea. But I'm just sitting there, and she walks into the living room and just takes off all her clothes. She stands there, her hands behind her head and he's just standing there talking to her, and this goes on for like, 30 minutes. Eventually she kneels in front of him takes out his cock and gives him some major head. Un-fucking-believable."

She had stopped listening, her eyes imagining the scene. "You're shitting me." As if she was the only one in the world that had sex with boys. "Did you jack off?"

I looked up to see her asking with an almost clinical air, like she was taking notes. I ducked the question.

Did I jack off? Hell yes I jacked off. And plenty of times since then!

"Oh, it gets pretty kinky over there. I haven't quite predicted when things start to get hot, but if you're here on Tuesday, I think that's one of their regular nights." I said it casually, conspiratorially. Maybe she was buying it. "Then there's Monty in the wild house down the way...you know the one?" Everyone knew the one. The amazing house backed up onto the nature preserve. "Hey. You like to run, right?"

She nodded.

"Do you ever run through the preserve?"

She nodded again.

"Well, you and I could run through there some evening – there's an interesting spot where you can see Monty's house, all lit up on the back side? What he does with this one woman is pretty unbelievable."

She licked her lips and took a sip of water. I could tell she was starting to see possibilities.

"And, if you're really really careful, you can catch some very interesting things at Von Trapp's place." Von Trapp – a nickname most of us had come to use for the older woman at the end of the street. She was striking: in her sixties she still put to shame women half her age. And her Asian assistant. Shit, the woman exuded sexuality just getting into and out of a car.

"What is this neighborhood, some sexual museum?"

I smiled and took a sip of wine. "Museum? No. Probably not that unusual, really. I just happen to be sensitive to this stuff. It's a sixth sense for me. I'm sure it goes on in every block. I just happen to live on this one."

"Well you sure as fuck sensed me, I guess."

She seemed to have relaxed a little by the time she left. Maybe she was starting to think of me as 'the cooler older guy,' as opposed to the 'perverted old freak who wants to get into my pants.' She knew she was going to have to put out, but she might be getting a sense of something in it for her too. At least I hoped so.

* - * - * - *

I got up the next morning – it was a Sunday – and did my usual Sunday things: made a modestly interesting breakfast, did a little house work and read the paper. I wasn't sure which project I would work on and was just starting to think about it when the door bell rang.

"Hey!" It was Robbie. Perfect. She was dressed to go running. "I was just about to hit the streets. You said you run. Do you want to come along?"

"Shit. If I hadn't eaten so much, I'd be there in a New York minute. Why don't you come back after you're finished – don't go home first, yeah?"

She raised an eyebrow, curious more than suspicious, but with that innocent face it was impossible to tell. She smiled a little and ran off. Damn she had a great little ass. Maybe. Maybe she'd be kind enough to show it to me a little later.

I puttered in the basement, ignoring the boxes of memorabilia, heavier emotionally than they were physically, focusing instead on my video projects. I was just getting into the catalog, when I heard the bell ring again.

This time she was flushed and sweaty, her top soaked under her arms and across her chest. She smelled fantastic – a clean sweaty young woman smell.

"So," I started, as soon as she had come in. "What do you think? Have you decided what you're going to do?"

"Listen," she sat on one of the nook chairs, wiping sweat from her forehead. "You're not going to fuck with me, right? You're not going to make me do something I don't want to do, or...fuck...I don't know. You're not going to creep out on me, right?"

I could tell she had been struggling with this, but, like I said, she'd already decided. She just needed to come to it on her own; besides, one woman's 'creep' is another's kink. "You have two choices: take it in the shorts with your folks, or take a chance with me. I can't say where this is going to go. It's as much up to you as anything. What do you think you're capable of?" I decided to play off the competitive streak I knew she had in her.

She closed her eyes and wiped her face, coming to some kind of decision. "I know I'm supposed to be smart and all, but I think I'm about to make the stupidest decision of my life."

I pursed my lips slightly and shrugged a little, trying to suggest that "stupid" is really a relative term. I didn't think it was too politic to remind her of her escapades on the video. That may have been the stupidest thing she'd done...who knows? All I cared about was that she had taken the first step. Now to carefully keep her walking down the path.

"And that is?" I wanted it to be explicit.

"I'm not telling my folks, and if I agree to 'play with you,' I have to know you won't either. I guess I'm signing up to play."

I nodded slightly, working to keep my face placid. Inside I was shouting and hooting. Might as well get the party started. "Okay," I said, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Agreed. I'm going to keep quiet about your escapade last night." I looked her over. "You look like you could use a shower. Let's get you cleaned up."

"Now? You're starting now?" She hadn't expected

that

.

"No time like the present. We'll go over the rules along the way..." I motioned to the stairs and I followed behind her. Her ass was just below my face, her smell enchanted me. She knew where the bathroom was – she'd practically lived in this house. I stopped at the linen closet and got her a fresh towel. "You can just throw your stuff on the floor – I just vacuumed." And I sat on the edge of the tub, waiting.

She looked at me and shook her head, and hesitated. When I didn't react, she slowly peeled her soaked shirt up and off, keeping her eyes on anything but me. Her breasts were held in a cotton sports bra, her flat stomach drawing my eye to her running shorts. She knelt, untying her shoes and slipped them off, and then in one fluid motion peeled her shorts down as she stood up. My cock stiffened as I took in her young body: her muff was auburn with gold hints, a neat triangle framing the top of her pussy that drew my eye between her legs. The muscles in her calves were well defined, leading my eye back up to the inside of her tight thighs. In the time it took for me to look at those captivating legs, she had peeled off her bra, letting her breasts hang free. She stood there staring at me. Waiting for some kind of judgment or direction. I almost fainted at the realization she was

waiting for me to tell her what to do

.. Her face was open, her eyes silently pleading to get on with it.

I made a small motion with my finger, cocking my head and she turned to let me see that gorgeous ass. "You have a fantastic body, Robbie. Much better in the flesh than on the video. Go ahead and take a shower and get cleaned up. We'll discuss the next steps when you're dried off."

I didn't leave until she had gotten under the stream of water, making sure she understood to leave the curtain open. She had gotten the idea, like I thought, really smart. I returned with the video camera, taping her unobserved as she concentrated on washing the sweat off her body. The way she soaped her breasts, how she moved so smoothly and flexibly, it was almost enough to make me cream just watching her. When she realized I had been taping her, she stopped and protested, betrayed. I shook my head slightly, just once, the meaning clear: she had no choice in what I was doing – only in what she was prepared to do.