The Prize Ch. 03

"I told you, I'm not jealous," Savannah returned quickly. "Well, then, you're going to get excited if you're at all human. I want you to promise me though, promise me, Savannah, that you won't allow yourself to get off. Don't masturbate to orgasm. Save that for Brian, please. O.K.?" P.J. looked squarely in Savannah's eyes to gauge the response that would follow.

"I don't understand," Savannah said. There was no guile.

"Just trust me. Don't get off. Exercise will power." P.J. gesticulated to the air. "Masturbate if you want to, but don't masturbate to orgasm. It really should be Brian's doing. And you'll appreciate it more, too. Saving it for him. He deserves it after we're being so deceitful, don't you think?" She again scanned Savannah's face for a reaction.

Savannah thought for a few seconds before she replied. "Probably. Do you think he'll be so mad that he hates us both?"

"I don't think so, Savannah. Not if we're sincere. We are sincere, aren't we? I want Brian to be happy. You want Brian to be happy. Right?"

"Right."

"Then let us communicate our concern and sincerity." P.J. invited Savannah to look into the large closet and continued her instructions for the evening. "You may be up here for a while. No need for you to get in the closet until you hear us come up the stairs. I'm not going to pounce on him the second he gets here. Amuse yourself in some way. There are books and magazines all over the place. I'll make sure you hear us when we come up. You'll have plenty of time to get inside. I'm going to leave the lights on as they are now so you'll be able to see us."

Savannah shook her head affirmatively.

"Are you sure about this? I'm giving you one last chance to back out. It's a win-win situation for you, dear. Brian and I are over anyway. You don't have to go through with this." P.J. lightly touched the young woman's arm to communicate her sincerity.

"Oh, yes, I do," Savannah immediately responded. "Not just for Brian. For me. For both of us."

"O.K." P.J. took a long, audible breath. "Well, let's prepare for this. Let me see the underwear."

Savannah stared wide-eyed at P.J. The older woman smiled, bemused by the sudden shyness.

"Oh, god, Savannah. You have been so forthright up to this point. Are you going to turn shy on me now?" P.J. laughingly rolled her eyes as she finished the question.

Savannah looked at the floor. "I'm not very comfortable with my clothes off," she admitted.

"Why?" P.J. asked. "You appear to have a wonderful figure."

"I, well, I just am not comfortable with my clothes off. Like I said."

"Savannah," P.J. shook her head as she spoke, "you must learn to take off your clothes seductively. Men like that. You don't have to do it all the time, but when the situation is right, you have to think like a stripper, sometimes like a prostitute. You're in the bedroom, not the mall."

She raised her hands, palms upward. "Take off your t-shirt and jeans. Let me see what's under there." She moved her hands up and down then allowed them to drop to her sides.

Savannah hesitated. P.J. gave directions again.

"Savannah, pretend that your very life, no, pretend that Brian's life hinges on whether or not you can excite me by removing your clothes. Make me want you. This isn't rocket science. It's survival. Survival is much more important. Make me want to take you down to the floor."

Savannah's eyes widened as she sputtered, "But . . . but you're a girl!"

P.J. grinned, half exasperated. "Oh, Savannah. That doesn't make any difference. Sex is sex. With yourself, with a woman, with a man."

The girl grabbed the hem of her t-shirt and jerked it up only to pull it back down quickly.

"No, no, no," P.J. said. "Like this."

The older woman looked Savannah seductively in the eyes, bit her bottom lip, shifted her weight from one foot to another, squirming in anticipation. She demurely took the bottom of her t-shirt hem in her fingers, constantly making eye contact with Savannah. Teasingly rocking her hips side to side the whole time, P.J. unhurriedly lifted the t-shirt up, and up, and up until her lacy pale blue bra was exposed. Savannah sucked in her breath. P.J. continued the upward pull. When the shirt was over her head, she tossed it behind her.

"Now you," she said, as she turned around, retrieved the shirt and pulled it back over her head, smoothing it in place.

Savannah suddenly wanted this woman to see her new bra. She felt very sexy in it. It was a pale coral color, and she felt it complemented her complexion. The thong panty matched. But that was for later. She thought.

"Savannah. Remove your t-shirt, slowly, please," P.J. directed.

She did as she was told, rocking her hips as she'd seen the older woman do.

"No," she heard P.J. say. "Feel the movement, don't imitate. Feel it. Close your eyes. Imagine Brian fucking you, rocking your hips."

Savannah was slightly embarrassed.

"Savannah," P.J. barked. "This isn't going to work if you don't really want it."

"No, no, I want it," the girl said quickly.

"Then imagine Brian. Do you desire him?"

"Yessssss," Savannah slowly exhaled.

"Then focus on making him desire you, on showing your desire for him. How do you think a great stripper would remove her t-shirt?" P.J. asked.

"Oh, I don't know," Savannah answered. "I've never seen one, a stripper."

"Good, lord. Well, go see one," P.J. said. Then she added, "Soon."

"Now, remove your t-shirt," she continued.

Savannah closed her eyes, imagined not Brian but the woman before her as she removed her t-shirt very slowly.

"Good," P.J. said, as she stood back and surveyed the bra.

"Very nice," she nodded, scanning Savannah's form. "Color is good. Cut is good. See through factor is good. Nice nipples," P.J. observed.

Savannah glanced down, ill at ease.

"No," P.J. said. "Don't be embarrassed. You have very nice nipples. Haven't you seen other women naked?"

Savannah nodded yes.

"Do you like all of the nipples you've seen?" questioned P.J.

"No."

"No." P.J. continued. "And why? Because some are attractive to you and some aren't. You have beautiful nipples. May I see them, I mean without the bra?"

Savannah's legs trembled a little. She felt warm, felt moisture between her legs.

P.J. didn't wait for verbal permission. She reached inside the young woman's bra and pulled the right breast over and out of the covering. Savannah's nipples were medium rose colored, hard, and very protruding. They begged to be sucked.

"Are they sensitive," asked P.J. She allowed her thumb and finger to move to the hard nipple as she asked the question.

The young woman moved back, startled.

"Don't be skittish," P.J. said. "Don't you want Brian to enjoy your nipples?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, relax. Are they sensitive? They look it. Does it feel good when I pinch them?" P.J.'s fingers squeezed the young woman's nipple, twirling it side to side.

Savannah felt electricity, lightning, radiate from her nipple outward. The feeling was more than she'd ever experienced before. She'd pulled at her own nipples, but no one else ever had. She answered P.J. concerning the sensitivity. "Yes. Oh, yes," Savannah panted.

"Well, we'll make sure that Brian pinches them, and sucks them, too. Hard. Do you like that?"

"I, well, I don't know," Savannah hesitated.

P.J. stepped closer to Savannah. She leaned down and took the nipple into her mouth. She sucked hard, making a smacking sound. Savannah, startled, moved away again, pulling the nipple from P.J.'s mouth. P.J. placed her left arm behind the young woman, held her to the spot. She found the nipple and sucked again, harder. Savannah felt even more moisture between her inner thighs.

Oh, god, what is she doing to me, Savannah thought. This isn't what I wanted, is it? So hot. Why am I so hot? P.J. unexpectedly released the nipple and replaced the breast back into the bra.

"Now, let me see the panties. Thong, I hope?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Off with the jeans. Take your jeans off with your back to your man. Take your time. Wiggle back and forth. Make him wait. Don't stand up and push them down until they fall. Bend over. Accentuate your ass. Don't worry if it's not perfect. He won't care. Wiggle and ease them down. Now show me." P.J. was motioning for Savannah to turn around as she told her what to do.

Savannah complied. She did better with the jeans than with the t-shirt. P.J. wondered why. Savannah faced P.J. again. The breasts were better than the behind. Oh. Maybe that was it.

"Savannah, do you think you have good breasts?"

"What?"

"Do you think your breasts are good?"

"I, uh, well . . ."

"Just answer the question."

"Well, they're ok. I'm not disappointed with them."

"Of course you're not! They're beautiful! Show them off, dear. Flaunt them. I don't mean in public. I mean for your man. For Brian. Make those things own him. Do you understand? Those nipples own him."

P.J. was beginning to feel moisture between her thighs. The nipples were good. The breasts were good. They were round, full, and fairly large. They had, as Bob Seger said, points on their own, sittin' way up firm and high. The aureoles were large, but not overly, not smooth but with tiny bumps. A sprinkle of those delightful freckles dusted the tops of the breasts.

Savannah shyly asked if the underwear was all right.

"Savannah, you're ravishing. The color is perfect. Let's add a bit of color to your cheeks. We don't have much time before Brian gets here. Come here."

P.J. took the girl by the arm and led her to the bathroom. When they reached the large mirror, P.J. pulled open a drawer and removed a small container of blushing powder. Next, she took a large, soft brush from a container on the counter.

She dipped the brush in the container, knocking off the excess powder on the side. She lightly touched Savannah's cheeks with the color. She re-dipped the brush and bounced it between Savannah's breasts.

"What's that for?" Savannah asked.

"Just a slight blush, dear. It's o.k."

She continued. "Raise your head. I want to get some color on that neck."

The young woman raised her head, exposing the long, white neck. P.J. wanted to lick it. Nibble it. Suck on the soft flesh. But she controlled her desire.

She applied the blush to the neck and replaced the brush in its holder. She took a hairbrush from the open drawer and began to brush the girl's hair. It was awkward because she was taller than P.J.

"Sit. Sit down on the toilet, back facing me. Just straddle it."

Savannah sat. P.J. pulled the long, thick hair to the back and brushed. She wanted both to soothe and excite the girl. Strange combination, but she felt the brushing would accomplish both.

P.J. noticed that Savannah was near imperceptibly rocking back and forth on the toilet seat. Well, one mission accomplished.

"Are you getting turned on, Savannah?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me. Are you turned on? Excited?"

"Yessss."

"Are you wet?"

"Huhhh?"

"Are you wet, Savannah? Between your legs?"

"Yesssssss."

"Pretty wet, or just wet?"

"Oh, verrrrrrry wet. Very."

"Would you like to get off, Savannah?" P.J. leaned nearer the girl's ear as she asked the question.

"Uh, you said I couldn't. You said to wait. For Brian. You said."

"Yes, I did." P.J. saw that Savannah intended to give Brian the pleasure. "Good. Save it. Save it for him."

Savannah's rocking was more pronounced. P.J. continued to brush her hair, but stopped after several more strokes.

"I'm going downstairs now. Brian should be here soon. Remember. You don't have to get in the closet until you hear us. And put your shirt and jeans in the closet. Just stay in your underwear. I'll signal when I want you to come forward. You'll know when. And, remember, don't get off. O.K.?"

"O.K. but I'm really hot."

"I know, I know. But it will be worth the wait. I promise. With me?"

"Yeah."

P.J. turned to go, but glanced back at Savannah just before she exited the bedroom door. "One more chance, Savannah. Do you want to back out?"

"Noooooooo. No. I'm ready."

"All right. I'm going down now."

P.J. left the bedroom. She headed downstairs to await Brian. She expected him very soon. Brian tutored students in the Skills Enhancement Center located in the library. He got off work at 7:30 on Friday evenings. It usually took him twenty to thirty minutes to get here. 7:45. It wouldn't be long. P.J. tried to calm her excitement. The thought of the hot young woman in her bedroom agitated her nerves. P.J. was quite aroused herself, ready to explode. And what of the young one above? How was she coping? Coping with not getting herself off as she had been instructed?

P.J. busied herself in the kitchen. Brian generally had a bite to eat when he got in from work. He didn't normally eat large meals at night. She decided to prepare some nachos for him. Preparation complete, P.J. placed the nachos under the broiler. Just as she closed the oven door she heard a car in the drive. Brian.

Although the door was not locked, he knocked softly then entered. He looked beautiful, as usual. The long, dark, curly hair was brushed back behind his ears. The pale blue baby-checked button down Oxford shirt accentuated the darkness of his hair and the paleness of his blue eyes. The tight jeans hugged his round behind and muscular thighs. He smiled broadly as he approached her.

Brian loved coming home to this woman. He loved seeing her face light up when he put his arms around her. Tonight, she looked especially hot. He reached her and gave her a big hug. God, did he smell her? Smell her juices? His heart sank. Had she been with someone? Had she?

P.J. discerned what he was thinking. His questions, his doubts, his feelings were all over his face. She hugged him hard, then stepped back and looked at his face.

"Oooo. I'm so glad you're here. I've been hot for almost an hour," she grinned, "but I'm going to control myself while you eat your nachos, which, by the way, are still in the oven, and then I'm going to have something to eat," she emphasized the I'm. She threw him a lascivious look.

He smiled. "I don't need nachos. Let's just head upstairs."

"No, no. You have to keep up your strength. I'm putting you through your paces tonight. You'll need all the energy you can get."

"I'm ready now," he said, guiding her hand to his erect cock.

"Oooo. I see. But I insist."

She removed the nachos from the oven, cheese now melted. She slid them onto a plate and handed them over to Brian.

"Whaddya want to drink? Milk? Water? Soda?"

"Uhh. What about a beer?"

"Sure. Whatever you want." She reached in the refrigerator, retrieved a beer, opened it, and handed it over to Brian who had seated himself at the nearby table.

"What did you do today?" he asked as he stuffed the first nacho into his mouth.

"Oh, I ravaged a slew of people, robbed a bank, pillaged a department store, and sewed the button on those jeans you left hanging in the utility room last week. What'd you do?"

Brian smiled. She always made him smile. "Well, nothing like that. Mostly I've been thinkin' of you."

P.J. smiled back at him then glanced to the floor briefly. She knew it was time to bring it up again. Bring up the dreaded it's over subject. She took a breath and tested the waters.

"Can we talk? I know that I've bothered you about this before. But this is important to me."

"What? What do you want to talk about?"

"I want to talk about you and other women."

"Oh, stop. I don't want to talk about that."

"But we're going to."

"No, we're not."

"Do you want to fuck tonight?"

He shot her a nasty look, the usually clear blue eyes suddenly cloudy. "That's not fair. You wouldn't."

He didn't know whether she would or not, but he didn't want to chance it. "Why do you want to talk about other women? Doesn't that bother you?"

"Of course not. You'll have to be with another woman eventually," she reasoned.

Brian sucked in his breath. He'd been waiting for something like this. How long could he hold this woman's attention? He'd hoped it would last longer.

She continued the hateful conversation. "You have to start thinking about your future. You can't be with me forever," she stressed.

"Why?"

"Oh, please. Don't be obtuse, Brian. You have a long future before you. You are going to have a successful career and a wonderful life. I will not be with you. You have to start thinking about that."

"Why won't you be with me?"

"Because I'm too old, silly. I can't, won't, keep up with you. I don't want to." She paused, smiled benignly at him, and resumed. "I'm not being ugly, sweetie. I simply don't want to be that appendage that you need."

Brian didn't like the conversation and tried to change the subject. "Do you have any pickles?"

"You don't eat pickles with nachos."

"I do."

"No, you don't. Don't change the subject. Brian, you knew when this started that it wouldn't last, didn't you? Didn't you?"

He really didn't want this to end, the conversation, yes. Them, no. Not now. Not yet.

Finally, he conceded. "Yes, I guess I knew. Well, maybe. I'm not sure."

"Oh, I think you did. We both did." She paused, then started again. "I adore you, Brian. But this thing has just about played itself out."

He winced. She walked behind him and placed her arms around him. She hugged him to her, her head on his left shoulder. He wasn't sure what to do. He felt empty. He reached around and pulled her easily into his lap. Not yet. He said it out loud this time. "Not yet."

She smiled at him, trying to lighten the mood. "What are you afraid of, Brian? Not gettin' any pussy?" She grinned.

Her comment angered him, clouded the eyes even more. His face showed his displeasure and he tightened his grip on her arms. "Don't say that. Stop it. That's not it at all and you know it. You know it."

Umm. Not what she wanted. He was hurt. She hated seeing pain in those clear blue eyes. Hated seeing his face tighten.

"Brian," she took his face in her hands, "I do not want to hurt you."

"Well, you have."

"But that was not my intention. I have loved our time together. But it's time to move on. We have to think about the future. In ten years, you're going to be visiting your child's school on parent-teacher night and I'm going to be home soaking my dentures!"

He couldn't help it. He hated it, but she'd made him laugh.

"Stop it. Will you just stop it? Quit it with the denture shit, will ya?"

"See, you giggled. It's going to be all right. Now. I want to talk to you."

She got up from his lap and sat in the chair next to his. "Tell me about Savannah and Julie."

"Julia."

"O.K. Julia."

"Why do you want to know? What do you want to know?" he asked, exasperated with her tenacity.

"I want to know why you're not dating them."

"Because I'm seeing you."

P.J. sighed, frustrated. "Why were you open to a fling with me?"

"This is not a fling."

"O.K. Why did you come home with me on awards day?"

"I told you. I was pumped because of the award and no one else was around."

P.J. feigned a shocked look and sucked in her breath. "Ohh, That makes me feel so special. No one else around," she trailed off then stopped. He was stricken by what he'd said. How it sounded. "Oh, Brian. I was kidding! For god's sake. I know what you meant."

"Are you seriously asking me why I came home with you?" P.J. nodded and Brian continued. "You're hot! Don't you know that? I wanted to come home with you, come home . . . I wanted to know, to know what it would be like."

"What what would be like? Having sex with an old woman?" P.J. grinned.

"Stop it. Don't say old woman again." He was serious, so she promised.

"Talk to me, Brian. You wanted to know what what was like?"

"Sex. Sex with an experienced woman." P.J.'s look seemed to ask for more. "I thought if we had sex it would be pretty hot," he finally got out.