We Need To Talk

"Unghhhh," fought its way up her throat and out her mouth. She was rigid and unmoving in my arms, letting Uncle Jack enjoy every centimeter of her tightness. She breathed through her mouth in deep, chest expanding inhalations. Her anus tightened and relaxed on my shaft, clamping down as I withdrew from her, easing its chokehold as I slipped back in. I had never experienced sexual intercourse like this. I prayed Bonnie had never been like this with another man. Her entire body quivered in reaction and I astonished myself by fucking her like this for nearly ten minutes. When I came, it was peaceful but incredibly intense, lasting what felt like 10 minutes, not the actual 10 seconds it probably was. I remained inside her unmoving as an orgasm 100 times more powerful than mine ravaged her body. She writhed, spasmed, moaned incoherently. Her industrious finger never left the nub of her clitoris throughout the whole thing. No wonder she detonated like a supernova. Somewhat to my horror, she passed out from exertion and to much adrenaline.

* * *

It was after 4 A.M.. We sat facing each other on the bed, her bed as I'd come to think of it, sharing the quart of butter pecan ice cream we'd stopped for coming back from dinner. She fed me a spoonful, then one for herself. Her hair was an explosion of yellow. I have never see hair so beautiful. She looked peaked, exhausted, sexually deconstructed. My penis was raw as hamburger. Her tenderloin, as she playfully called it, was red, raw, inflamed and nearly swollen closed. Despite this, I wanted her again.

"I never closed the curtains," I pointed out.

She didn't bother to look. Everything we'd done that night was in front of the open curtains. And not all we did was in the dark.

Things got weird after our first kiss. Bonnie sank back into her seat, looked out the window in embarrassment, shrank in upon herself and clasped her hands in her lap. My heart took a while to slow down. My erection took even longer. For a moment it was difficult to breath, as though my diaphragm had locked up. I couldn't remember a kiss ever effecting me like this. It definitely affected Bonnie.

"Sorry if that was unexpected," she mumbled.

"Unexpected, yes, unwanted, no," I countered. I had her lipstick on my mouth. Though tasteless, it was a strange sensation. I hadn't even known she wore it tonight.

"Can I tell you something?" I asked.

She nodded cautiously.

"If you had kissed me yesterday like you just kissed me now, I don't think we'd be in this car right now."

She was silent a moment. "Is that a good thing, or bad, Uncle Jack?"

I had to consider that a moment. "I don't know," I finally admitted. "I wish today could replace yesterday."

"I do too," she agreed. She hesitantly placed her left hand on my right leg, just above the knee. I placed my hand atop hers. It was our first really intimate touch. I wanted to show that delicately small hand how much I wanted her, but contented myself to leave it there, held gently by my own.

"Can I tell you something else?" I asked.

She nodded.

"I wouldn't trade where we are right now for any other situation on earth."

At the motel, we rode in companionable silence up to the 4th floor, and Bonnie slipped her hand into mine halfway to the room. I interleaved our fingers and she gripped my hand tightly. I had trouble not halting there in the corridor and sweeping her into my arms. She would not fight if I did. I worried more that she'd give herself to me right there, fuck any cameras or eyes behind peepholes in the adjacent doors. I would humiliate us both. Instead, I placed my hands on her hips and pressed my swollen erection into her backside as she unlocked the door. I wondered if we'd make it past the small entry foyer. Bonnie laughed throatily as the door closed and I flipped the security bolt.

"I feel 16 years old," she said.

I wagged my eyebrows lecherously. She moved ahead of my down the entry, disjointedly, half-backing, half-crabbing sideways, and I knew her estrogen levels were off the charts, just like my testosterone levels. I wanted to rip her clothes right off her. Her expression, rather alarmed, said that was a real possibility. "Whoa, boy," she whispered. "Let's at least take our coats off first."

That made me laugh and semi-defused the situation. I placed a hand on her shoulder and just stood there leaning against the wall. Her smile was nervous but happy. I noticed the reflection of us in the patio door and grinned at myself. That is one lucky fellow, I thought. Undeserving. Unworthy. Blessed. Bonnie turned to look.

"I'll get it," I said.

"Don't be so fast," she said, holding me by the elbow. Her grin was playful and mischievous, but also self-conscious. The corners of her mouth twitched. She tipped her head suggestively. "I've never strip-teased for an audience before."

I was momentarily taken aback. Was she joking? Did I want to share her with others, even clandestinely? Out of place jealousy set my jaw.

"You assume I'd let you take them off yourself?" I said.

Her eyebrows arched and she grinned wider. "You plan to undress me yourself?"

"I plan to do a lot of things to you," I said threateningly.

She fought hard not to giggle. I fought hard not to rip her clothes off where she stood. She fidgeted nervously with the long beige scarf around her neck, not knowing what to make of the situation. She masked her internal turmoil, possibly terror, with mischievousness. I was willing to let her because she'd been such a mental wreck earlier. A wreck whose responsibility was mine.

"We're too far back for anyone to see," I told her.

She looked at her reflection in the glass and bit her lower lip. "I'm not sure..." She walked to the glass and I followed. No buildings were within eyeshot. A number of cars were moving through the parking lot, and I determined that if we could see the farthest part of the lot from the 4th floor, they could spot us. We'd be visible to some extent as far as 8' back into the room. I didn't want to undress Bonnie directly before the patio window for obvious reasons; that would be a dead giveaway. Voyeurism is best enjoyed on the sly.

A look between us was all it took. I moved to stand in front of the 2nd bed, and Bonnie followed. I shrugged out of my coat, and she removed hers. I pitched them both into the chair.

"Will you undress me?" she asked.

I shook my head. I nodded slightly in the direction of the glass, indicating I'd enjoy the scenario from the viewpoint of the audience. Reddening slightly, she nodded in return and undid the buckle of her belt. She moved slowly, deliberately, a noticeable tremor in her hands; the set of her jaw revealing her tension. The beat of her heart showed under the front of her black turtleneck, her pulse in veins at her temples and neck. She was envisioning herself bare breasted in front of the open window, and then completely nude, showing anyone with eyes and the fortune to be looking up, her exquisite, if small breasts, flat tummy and the rest of her exceptional body. My erection strained the front of my Dockers almost to the tearing point. A thrill of pleasure ripped me at the sight of her nipples pointing like fingertips through her bra and turtleneck sweater. I was ready to do something stupid.

"I may have..." She gulped, smiled uneasily. "Bitten more than I can chew." She cut her eyes anxiously at the glass. "I've always wanted to do this. Now I'm chickening out."

I grinned wryly. "I'm not forcing you, Bonnie."

She smiled uneasily again. "I really want to do this though." She shivered ever so slightly, up and down and then up again. "I wonder how much adrenaline is in my bloodstream right now?"

"I'm more interested in your estrogen level," I said drolly, not trusting myself to say anything else. She laughed hoarsely.

With trembling fingers she undid the button on her slacks and lowered the zipper. She freed the bottom of her turtleneck and awkwardly, and with some difficulty, peeled it up and over her head, revealing an equally black, lacy brassiere. As she lowered her encased arms, her bra refilled and she had breasts again. Her nipples jabbed at me angrily through the shear fabric. I had snuck a look yesterday at her bra, another lacy purple one: 28 A. Bonnie looked natural small, the way an apple looked natural red. I yearned to have her nipples in my mouth, her breasts cupped in my hands. Yesterday I had neither.

"I feel like a rabbit being eyed by a hungry wolf," she observed worriedly.

"More the sacrificial lamb," I allowed, indicating her bed, farthest from the window. "That's your altar. I have the ceremonial dagger in my pants. I intend to eviscerate you slowly and painfully, Bonnie."

She half-gasped, half-choked out: "Uncle Jack!" her laugh half horrified, her face flushing cardinal-red. "You have such a way with words. No wonder Aunt Janice loves you so much."

She disentangled her arms and let the top drop to the floor. Shifting uneasily, she wiggled out of her slacks and let them puddle around her ankles. She stepped out and kicked them aside clumsily, both her eyes and head wanting to swivel toward the door. Ten thousand eyes stared up at her from the parking lot. That's what her expression said. Tomorrow she'd be stripping all over the Internet. I wondered if anyone really did see her. I hoped so, surprising myself.

Her bra came off next. Reaching behind, she fumbled the catch and managed somehow to get it open. "I will be topless before the entire world," she reminded me. I nodded and she released the straps and let the brassiere rest loosely on her shoulders. Hidden from me, from the side she be visible. Someone with binoculars would see her bare-breasted before I would. How ironic, I thought.

A shudder dislodged her bra and it slid off her shoulders. She caught it reflexively in the crook of her arms, hunching protectively. Her upper body exploded into gooseflesh. Grinning, I motioned with a finger to let her brassiere drop to the floor. She did. I made a twirling motion with my finger and she laughed and made a calculating, fashion-model twirl in place to present her bare breasts. My heart mimicked her twirl and left me breathless and giddy. It was like I'd never seen her naked before, and this was virgin flesh to my eyes. Blood pressure had surf crashing in my ears. I knew intuitively that when I entered Bonnie tonight, it would be the fastest, most intense orgasm I'd had. I prayed she'd instantly detonate along with me.

She faced me again looking uncertain. I made a half-twirl with my fingertip and she turned to face a way, looking back over her shoulder. I grinned, and she interpreted my intention correctly, striking the classic Betty Grable pose. I chortled, that's the only word for it.

"If you knew how incredible you look."

"Right," she snorted. "I weigh a hundred pounds, have no boobs and my backside's as flat as a book. Perhaps you'd like to restate that, Uncle Jack?"

With a pert grin, she thumbed down her panties and revealed her bare behind. It was flat, and more like a skinny boy's butt than a girl's. But it belonged to Bonnie and that made it the most desirable bare bottom in the world.

Leaving her underwear awry, she came to me and wrapped my neck with her arms, rose up on tip toe and flattened herself to me, seeking my mouth. Of course, I gave it to her immediately. She shuddered violently and gripped the back of my shirt in one fist, and a handful of my hair in the other, using the handholds as leverage to rise and wrap her legs around my waist, coming up to kiss me at mouth level. I held her there as she tried to eat my lips and tongue and soul. A noise somewhere between a moan of frustration and raw desire struggled up her throat and died of strangulation. She tried to pack a lifetime of intimacy and desire into one single kiss, and pretty much succeeded. She broke away, breathlessly and said in a horse gasp, clinging to me shakily: "It's time to fuck me now, Uncle Jack." So I took her to the bed and did just that.

* * *

The ice cream was good. I took the spoon from her grasp-"Hey!" she objected petulantly-stuck it into the ice cream and fed her a mouthful, which she slowly sucked off the spoon. Her eyes dared me to make anything of her suggestiveness. She threatened to smash the mirror over the credenza, grab up the largest, most dangerous shard and castrate me if I touched her again. She was in a pleasantly foul mood, the mood of a partner you've just rutted to within an inch of her dear life. The kind of mood you want your exhausted lover in.

"I have never been so sore," she grumbled.

"I am humbled by your admission," I said, feeding her another spoonful. The glint in her eye told me she was thinking of mirrors and tractable eunuchs. I knew she imagined herself walking like a cowgirl later on today. Sleep would usher in the stiffness and internal hemorrhaging. My penis wanted to beat me with a baseball bat. I couldn't blame it.

"The fact that we're awake and eating ice cream at 4 o'clock in the morning should tell you something," I said.

She leaned forward and accepted another spoonful. "Mmmm," she answered. "I wish you tasted like ice cream instead of like Castor Oil." She wiped her mouth. "You're the only man I've ever wanted to swallow his sperm. I'm sorry I wasn't able to, Uncle Jack."

I leaned across and kissed her gently. "I appreciate that you wanted to. Not many women want to do something like that." I shrugged.

She stole back the spoon and fed herself another bite. "I promise I'll never do it with anyone else. How about that?"

I laughed approvingly. "Thank you. But that's not a promise I'll try to keep you to."

Se eyed me speculatively. "This is it, isn't it?" she asked.

I nodded sadly. "I guess it has to be."

She sucked on another spoonful. "I don't regret it. Never in a million years, will I regret it." She leaned forward and kissed me again. I took her wrist in my hand and placed the other behind her neck and made love to her tongue for what we both guessed was the last time. It was imperative we end this now. Before we did something stupid.

"I love you, Bonnie," I whispered.

"I love you too, Uncle Jack." I released her and she sat back and began to silently cry, shoveling ice cream into her mouth. And then suddenly, she stopped.

"What?" I asked.

She looked around the motel room. "What if...you don't think...?" Her head snapped around and she looked at me with wide, fear-struck eyes. "You don't think we're dreaming, do you?"

"No, of course not," I said immediately.

"Because, I'd kill myself if we were!" She fumbled the container of ice cream and it landed with a thud between her legs. "No-no-no-no-no!" she pleaded miserably. "Please don't let this be a dream!" She began to sit up, and...

* * *

"No!" I yelled, thrashing awake and sitting up in bed. I twisted my head around in desperation but I was in my bedroom at home and the motel room was somewhere miles away, in Springfield, Virginia. I thumped the covers and yelled "No!" again, grabbed a pillow and hurled it across the room. I grabbed the other two pillows and hurled them in a rage also. "No! No! No!" I shouted, pounding the mattress. It was Saturday morning, and I had dreamed the whole weekend. I had dreamed it all.

I grabbed my cell phone to make sure. It was 10:45 AM and I had badly overslept. The date was Saturday, December 15th. My phone nearly went sailing across the room like the pillows.

And then I realized the phone call that started it all in my dream, happened right about now. I looked at the phone dumbly, thought, No, it can't be, and then, with trembling fingers and my heart in my throat, dialed the number I had lately committed to memory. It rang four times and was picked up on the other end, also like in the dream. In a choked voice I said: "Uncle Jack?"

"Bonnie?" I heard him say, startled.

"We need to talk."

THE END