Jean’s Wounded Warrior Ch. 04

Jean's Wounded Warrior Project

Chapter 4 Robert Reveals Jean's Secrets

I dedicate this story to all the brave men and women in uniform who have served this country.

This story takes place in the late 1960s.

#

I was so excited when I called Robert the next day that I misdialed the first couple of attempts. I was relieved when he answered the phone after three rings.

"Hey, Robert, it's me again. Do you have time to talk to your brother-in-law?"

"Steve, I've got all the time in the world. I spend hours staring at the ceiling when I'm not in therapy. How's my sister doing? Oh my God, you don't know how much everyone here misses her."

"Jean's back at Ithaca Hospital working with her elderly patients. She's told me repeatedly that she misses her wounded warriors. I think she'd go back to California in a heartbeat."

"Well, Steve, you're the one who called. What did you want to talk about?"

Had Robert already forgotten what he told me yesterday?

"You told me how Jean went wild in her senior year of high school. You stopped after describing how your sister learned to give you lap dances."

"Oh yeah. That was crazy enough, but things soon got wilder."

Robert continued where he had left off.

#

I had midterms just before Thanksgiving. They were a lot harder than anything I'd had in high school. I had never felt so relieved in my life when I finished the last exam on Friday. I invited my two closest college buddies, Joey and James, over to my house on Saturday night to celebrate by watching TV while eating pizza and drinking massive quantities of beer.

You may remember I told you about my best friend, Joey. He was the one I went to the fraternity rush party where we watched the German 'Sex Education' film. James was another engineering student who came from San Francisco. He thought he was a cool dude, but who was I to argue with someone who was always good for a few joints of good marijuana.

My mother had left earlier for dinner and a late night dancing at some dive. My sister volunteered to spend the evening in her room, but I invited her to join us around the coffee table for pizza. My sister checked out my friends before accepting the offer. I was a little taken aback when she licked her lips.

There wasn't enough room for all of us to sit on the small couch and my mom's armchair. So we sat on the rug and used the sofa as a backrest.

I started to protest when Joey offered her a beer, but Jean righteously pointed out that she was the same age as me. Besides, she said that I had finished off the last of the soda when I got home. I don't remember what was on TV, but it held our attention while we ate. I made sure Jean only drank one beer with her pizza.

It seemed James was a lightweight when it came to drinking. He had rapidly polished off three bottles when he announced he couldn't do anymore.

Joey said, "Any chance you have a shot glass in the house?"

Jean and I laughed. Our mother collected shot glasses like some women collect those cute Hummel ceramic figurines. I was also on my third beer and too slow for my sister. She jumped up and soon returned with four shot glasses.

I said, "Jean, what do you think you're doing? You're underage, and you shouldn't drink."

"Oh, big college man. You're only 32 minutes older than me. We're both underage, but I'll bet Coleen and I have drunk a lot more than you."

Joey said, "Who's Coleen. I think I'd like to meet her."

Our next-door neighbor was also a high school teacher and my mom's best friend. They had both been pregnant together. So, our neighbor's daughter, Coleen, grew up with Jean and me. There was even an embarrassing picture on our mantle of the three of us as toddlers taking a bath together. Coleen was the first girl I ever kissed. When we broke up in my Sophomore year of high school, she complained that I was too quiet and timid. She had only gotten wilder as she got older.

I said, "She's my sister's oldest friend and a bad influence. If you like wild and crazy girls, Coleen's the girl for you."

Jean glared at me as she replied. "Sorry, Joey, my best friend is in Maine with her parents. You'll just have to be satisfied with my boring company."

While we discussed Coleen, Joey poured shots of my mom's best Tequila. James grabbed his glass as soon as it was filled and sipped cautiously. He wrinkled his nose and finished the shot. James thanked Joey when the Italian refilled it. I was surprised since my hippie friend usually stuck to marijuana.

Joey laughed, "Jean, I hardly think you're boring, but if you think you need a little something to make the party more exciting, I have just the game for you. Everyone chugs a shot and then chases it with a beer. The winner is the one with the least beer remaining in their bottle."

James said, "I'm going to need another beer."

Joey said, "We all need to start with a full bottle. Jean, could you be a sweetheart and fetch four beers?"

Jean finished off the dregs in her first beer before collecting the empties. She returned shortly from the kitchen with four cold ones. She passed them around before sitting with us on the floor.

Joey looked around the table as he said, "I'll count to three, and then we all throw back our shots. If you manage to down the shot clean, you get to take one breath before chugging as much beer as you can without taking another breath. Any questions?"

Joey was smiling at Jean when he finished. She smiled back and gave a slight nod.

Joey took a few deep breaths and began counting with his fingers, "1, 2, 3...."

I threw back half of my shot. Damn, it burned my throat. I started sputtering and reached for the beer before finishing my Tequila. James didn't fare any better. Only Joey and my sister finished their shots cleanly. I watched as the two of them chugged from their bottles. Joey only had a little left when he stopped for a breath. He slammed his bottle down on the table with less than an inch left. My eyes bugged out as I watched Jean drain her bottle before holding it upside down over the coffee table. She gave it a shake, and a couple of drops fell out.

Joey said, "Fuck me. You must have cheated."

Jean said, "If you think I snuck in an extra breath before swallowing my beer, we can do it again one at a time so everyone can watch. But the bet is double."

Joey looked puzzled. "What bet?"

Jean grinned, "The one where the loser loses a piece of clothing for the rest of the party. Of course, double means two items of clothing."

I swear I never heard anything about a bet, but Joey grinned like a crazed hyena who's just stolen a meal from a lion.

"Oh yeah, that bet. Hell, yes, you're on."

Joey proceeded to pour two more shots while Jean grabbed a couple more beers from the fridge. James and I were on the sidelines, sipping our half-full beers and watching with amused expressions. We all knew my sister had made up the bet, but I figured Joey was sandbagging my sister. She had dressed in her favorite tight, cut-off jeans and a short-sleeved peasant blouse that left several inches of her taut abdomen exposed above her low-rise short shorts. The loose top didn't show a hint of a bra. All three guys were hoping Jean would soon be reduced to her bra and panties assuming she was even wearing a bra in these early days of women's liberation.

Joey offered to go first. He took several long, deep breaths before grabbing his shot glass. He drank it in one quick gulp before setting the shot glass down. Joey took a quick deep breath and began chugging his beer. When he slammed his bottle down on the table, there was maybe a quarter of an inch left. Jean smiled and licked her lips.

Joey said, "Beat that. Everyone knows girls are lightweight drinkers."

Jean said, "Is that so? I'd offer to up the bet, but no one wants to see your junk."

Jean took a long deep breath before throwing back her shot. My sister paused to take another deep breath before grabbing her beer. We all stared at her throat as she swallowed vigorously until the bottle was empty. Only a single drop fell when she held the bottle upside down over the table.

Jean grinned. "Time to pay up, Dude."

Joey said, "Gladly. It's hotter than hell in here anyway. Rob, are you sure we can't turn down the thermostat?"

"Sorry, man, my mom would cut off our balls if you so much as look at the thermostat."

After my Bronx friend removed everything except his boxers, Jean smiled at James and me.

"Now, you guys have to remove an item. It's your choice, pants or shirt."

"Sis, I don't remember any bet."

Joey laughed. "You guys were all Ok with the bet when you thought Jean would lose. It's time to pay up."

I said, "Fine. I'll strip to my underwear to make Joey comfortable. It's too hot for clothes anyway."

I stripped off my shorts and tee shirt. Jean smiled at me as I shifted from one foot to the other, wearing only an old pair of faded boxers. My sister's eyes were focused on the tent in my underpants as she licked her lips. I carefully adjusted the ragged shorts to hide my growing erection. Why did today have to be the day I wore the ones missing the button on the fly?

My sister smiled. "Thanks, Robbie, for being a good sport."

Joey and I looked at James, who had laid four fat joins on the table while we were distracted.

Joey said, "Come on, man. Get with the program."

James shrugged and stood up. He was a good two inches taller than my six feet but at least thirty pounds lighter. My friend calmly stripped to his tight white briefs. He adjusted his underwear as Jean whistled. Damn, the skinny dude was packing. James smiled at her and sat down. His hand went for one of the joints.

"Seriously, James, my sister's in high school. She can't smoke weed."

Jean laughed. "I already drank you under the table. Maybe you should talk to Coleen before you tell me I can't smoke weed. While you were studying for a test, we went to a Halloween frat party at Alpha Zeta Pi. I'll bet I've done more weed than you."

"Please spare me, Jean. I don't want to hear any more about your crazy antics with that wack job, Coleen."

James ignored my protest and lit up the joint. I turned on the TV. We were just in time for the comedy quiz show "You Bet Your Life, hosted by Groucho Marx. James lit up one joint after another. It was the best marijuana I'd ever had in my young life, even though it didn't compare to what I got later in Nam. We were pretty buzzed by the time someone on the quiz show said the magic word. We laughed as the duck came down with the fifty-dollar prize.

I noticed James carefully snuffing out each joint when it got down to about a third left.

I said, "James, what's up with the pile of roaches. You're wasting a lot of good weed."

James smiled. "Guess you've never heard of a shotgun."

Jean's ears perked up. "A guy was giving shotguns at the frat party we crashed. It was awesome, but I'm still unsure how he did it."

James grinned at my sister. " It's easy enough. I'd be glad to show you if you're interested."

"For sure. How do I do it."

James showed my sister how to reverse a joint and hold it inside her mouth without touching her tongue. He had Jean practice with an unlit joint. Then my skinny friend demonstrated the technique. I watched as he lit one and gave my sister a shotgun. He knelt next to her and cupped the back of her neck. My friend pressed his lips against hers and blew a ton of potent smoke into her mouth while she inhaled. A few minutes later, she copied her teacher and returned the favor.

Joey eagerly said, "My turn."

Joey's hands were all over my sister's bare waist as she gave him a long hit.

Afterward, Jean turned to me and said, "Want some?"

How could I refuse my perky sister? I was using the armchair as my backrest, and she had to crawl over to me. I had an intoxicating view down the top of her gaping peasant blouse. I could see her generous breasts overflowing a white pushup bra. I was surprised when she straddled my thighs before giving me a long shotgun hit. I was shocked when she began grinding against my crotch in a slow lap dance.

She didn't stop rubbing herself against my barely concealed erection when she sat back and removed the stub of the joint from her mouth. I gasped when she pressed her open mouth against my lips and pressed her tongue inside my mouth. My sister's lap dance was almost too long. I can't imagine anything more embarrassing than coming on my sister's short shorts in front of my friends.

Joey said, "Damn, Rob, your sister is hot. I call seconds on a lap dance."

Jean turned her head and said, "You sure you can handle it, Joey?"

"It wouldn't be my first rodeo. There's a strip club in the Bronx where they give topless lap dances."

"Then I guess you can handle the wait while I give James a turn. After all, he furnished the weed."

Joey shrugged to conceal his obvious disappointment.

Jean listened carefully to the signs of my growing arousal and dismounted before I could embarrass myself. I quickly adjusted my boxers to avoid flashing my rock-hard cock.

"Thanks, sis, for the most painful blue balls I've ever had."

Jean laughed, "It was my pleasure, Robbie."

Jean grabbed another short joint and straddled James' lap. She repeated the performance she had just given me and left him with a grin almost as big as the tent in his white briefs. As Jean straddled Joey's lap, his big hands jumped to her bare waist. My sister started her lap dance as she lit the joint.

"Careful with the hands, Joey. You'll get thrown out by the bouncer."

Joey ignored her warning. His hands slipped under the bottom of my sister's loose blouse. Jean grabbed his hands and pushed them down to her waist. Her hips were already undulating as she worked her crotch against his boxers. My sister cupped his face and pressed her lips against his. I heard him deeply inhale as she blew a strong hit into his lungs. Joey couldn't control his hands for long. They snuck under her blouse again and managed to slip up even higher. Jean didn't pause her lap dance and pressed her crotch even harder against Joey. She broke lip contact for a moment to allow the big city boy a chance to breathe before giving him a second hit.

My sister sat back and tossed the spent joint toward the ashtray. She grabbed his wrists and again pulled his wayward hands to her waist. She did it without missing a beat in her slow dance.

"Joey, you're being a bad boy. I warned you about the bouncer."

Joey cupped my sister's ass and said, "I don't see any stupid bouncers."

"My brother is my bouncer."

Joey laughed. "Hey, Rob, what's the going rate for a topless lap dance."

My eyes were riveted on my sister's twirling butt. Her short cut-offs exposed the bottoms of her ass cheeks. I was concerned about how things seemed to be spiraling out of control.

"Come on, Joey, behave. It's my sister you're talking about."

Joey turned his attention back to my sister, who hadn't stopped grinding against his crotch.

"I'll pay you twenty dollars to give me a topless dance."

I know twenty dollars doesn't sound like a lot, but in 1963 my mother earned seventy-six dollars a week as an experienced high school teacher. I could see Jean was interested. She could buy a couple of nice outfits for that amount.

"Not going to happen, Joey. However, I might be persuaded to remove my blouse for twenty dollars."

I groaned when I heard her offer. "Jean, don't do it. There is a reason girls who've dated him call him the octopus."

Jean laughed, "Don't worry. I'm a big girl. I can handle Joey's tentacles."

Joey knew he had my sister's interest and decided to press his luck.

"Here's my final offer. I'll give you the twenty if you take off your blouse and shorts and give me a real lap dance."

Jean's paused with her hands on Joey's shoulders. I hoped she would tell him off or, even better yet, slap his face. I certainly didn't expect her to take his offer seriously. I was annoyed when my little sister asked for clarification.

"What do you mean by real?"

Joey knew he had her. "Let's just say I don't want to end up with blue balls like James and your brother."

James and I inhaled sharply when the meaning of Joey's remark sunk in.

Jean said, "I can do that, but I need another shot of Tequila first. I also want the money upfront."

I groaned, "Jean, no."

My sister got up so Joey could reach for his wallet. She shoved the twenty into her cut-off jeans' back pocket and slowly walked to the record player, swaying her hips for Joey's benefit. She looked through a pile of 45 RPM records before selecting one. It was a record my mom bought because she liked David Rose's hit 'Ebb Tide.' My sister put on the more infamous B side, a lively instrumental adopted by striptease artists worldwide.

As soon as the song started to play, Joey shouted, "Oh my God, that's perfect. They always play 'The Stripper' at the clubs in the Bronx."

James grinned as he poured a heavy shot for the girl who had left him with a massive erection. Jean leaned over and grabbed her shot. My sister thanked him and smiled as she caught him staring down the top of her blouse. She threw back the straight shot, made a face, and gulped down the rest of her beer.

She smiled at Joey. "Glad you approve of my selection. Maybe it would be more like your favorite strip club if you sat on the couch."

Joey scrambled up and sat in the middle of the couch. He watched wide-eyed as Jean began a slow shimmy between his widespread thighs. Instead of immediately removing her clothes, she caressed her body with her hands. Her hands slid up to her French braid. She pulled the braid apart and shook her dark hair down over her ample breasts.

Joey said, "You'd better hurry. The song's almost over."

Jean spoke in a husky voice that I'd never heard before. "Take a deep breath and relax, honey. I don't do hurry. Besides, I have it on repeat. When I'm done with you, that tentpole in your boxers will be as limp as an overcooked strand of spaghetti."

Jean acted like she was a movie star getting into character as a professional stripper. I remembered the line about 'I don't do hurry.' She'd borrowed it from a soft-core movie we'd watched on TV. My sister wasn't in any hurry as she grasped the bottom of her blouse and slowly lifted it over her generous breasts. My cock was as hard as it had been when she gave me a lap dance earlier.

I muttered a feeble protest. "Jesus Christ, Jean, what are you doing?"

She waited for the right time in the song before pulling her peasant blouse over her head. She twirled it around in a circle over her head before tossing it in my face.

"Entertaining your friends and making an easy twenty, Robbie."

All three guys fixed their eyes on my sister's white pushup bra. I was impressed that the sturdy bra managed to constrain her generous breasts so well that they barely wobbled with her slow dance moves. However, when Jean put her hands on my Italian friend's shoulders and shook her torso, the upper half of her breasts jiggled like jello.

Jean turned her back to Joey and bent over to grab her ankles. She twirled her athletic ass in Joey's face. Suddenly, I realized I'd seen Shirley MacLaine perform the same dance in 'Irma la Douce.' I wasn't surprised when her next move was to stand up, keeping her gyrating ass in my friend's face. Her hands went to the snap on her jeans. Part of me wanted to yell, "Stop!" when she lowered the zipper on her skin-tight cut-off jeans. Instead, I stayed silent. I was spellbound.

Jean worked her hips hard as she pushed the weather-beaten jeans down over her ass. The tight garment dragged her bikini panties halfway down her cute butt.