The Sins of the Fathers Ch. 14

***** Writer's note: If this chapter is your first read of my work, I suggest that you read at least the second half of the previous chapter. This character, Jessica, is introduced in The Sins of the Fathers CH.13. While this chapter can be read free-standing, you will enjoy it more fully if you read how these two met.

WHISKEY BLUSH!

Jack was waiting for Jessica at the theater entrance.

"Hey, 'Just Jess', would you like to go out tonight and have a drink?"

She was positively glowing and couldn't keep from smiling. "Aren't you already busy doing something important, like stalking your son and his girlfriend?" My my, Jack Grant, you're a real enigma and I love a mystery. So why are you still here?

"I think they'll be fine at MacKenzie's house for the night."

"You think 'he's' gonna get lucky, huh?"

"Like father, like son?" he joked, purposefully sidestepping the question. For once, Spence can be the one to keep our two wildcats out of trouble. Come on, 'Just Jess', don't make me beg you. Say you'll go out with me. I haven't had much practice in the last four years; but, I suspect that, maybe, you wanted something more than just to give me a 'back-of-the-theatre' blowjob. At least, I hope you did.

"Truth is, I'd feel selfish if I didn't take you out for a drink after our movie date." Jack shot her his most devastating smile. "Doesn't have to be booze; coffee could be good, too! I mean, I don't even know if you drink," he probed.

"Oh, I drink. And, I'd love to have a drink with you; but, I don't want to go out," she answered ambivalently.

That left him scratching his head, What the hell is that supposed to mean? Guess it's pretty obvious I'm totally out of touch with twenty-first century mating games. What's it take to get laid these days?

"So, let me get this straight. Just now, I thought I heard you say that you'd love to have a drink with me tonight. Or was it just wishful thinking on my part?"

"Of course, that's what I said. Absolutely!" I would love to have a drink with you!

"Okay, great; then, I assume the only real hitch in my plan must be the actual location where we'll be having our drink, right?"

Eyes sparkling, she slowly nodded and licked her lips suggestively.

"Terrific! I'll take that as a definite 'Yes'. Now, if I remember my dating protocols correctly, I think the next question is 'Your place or mine?'."

"Jack, I don't have a 'place'. " She smiled, wryly. "I'm a millennial, remember? I've got a college degree. Hell, I have almost two college degrees, but no real job and I'm still living at home. All I have to show for all that education is a ton of student loans. And, of course, a lot of knowledge about old movies."

"Okay, my house it is." He took her hand in his and headed for the mall's parking. He hit the remote key. The Jeep chirped and flashed its lights.

"A Jeep! I love Jeeps." she said, climbing in. He shut the door behind her and went to the driver's side.

"Jess, where's your car?"

She reached over and rapped him very gently on the forehead. "Hello!? I have a huge debt in college loans. I don't have a car; I take the bus everywhere."

The drive was short and quiet.

Jack punched in the security code, and turned the key on the front door. The lights came on for them as he dropped the keys on the small table just inside the doorway.

"Can I freshen up?" She frowned, looking uncomfortable. "I hate to ask but I wasn't planning on going out tonight."

"Where are my manners? Do you need me to run you home first and let you get some clothes? I mean, we have time. There's no hurry."

She kissed him. "Yes, there is." That surprised him. "I don't need to go get clothes. Thank you for offering though." She kissed him again, lightly on the cheek.

The implications of what she wanted, finally hit Jack like a ton of bricks, Oh God, I'm rusty at this kind of stuff. "Ah, yeah ... right ... Of course, you want to freshen up!"

"Okay, Jack, time for the house tour," he muttered partially to himself. Taking her hand, he led her through the obvious: living room, home office, backyard with pool and small hot tub; then the upstairs, guest bedroom with its guest bathroom, his master bedroom and she even laughed when he called it 'the master's bedroom'. Finally, down the hall, he showed her his daughter's room.

She peeked in. "This is 'Nick's' room?" Looking first at the bed with the stuffed animals and panties strewn on the floor, she picked up a man's white dress shirt and looked at him with a question in her eyes. Then she spied the tartan skirt on the floor.

"Okay. How come we've got panties, a man's shirt, and a tartan skirt?" She held up the boxer boy-cut, but obviously girl's panties.

"This is Nicole's room." he felt a need to explain.

She held up the man's shirt.

"She likes using my old shirts for jammies, night clothes." Now, he was getting uncomfortable.

She held up the small tartan skirt.

"She graduated from Immaculate Conception Academy for Girls last week."

She saw the two Aikido dogis stacked on the small bed with two belts on top. Walking across the rug, she stopped, holding up the dogis.

"Aikido."

"Black belt?"

"MacKenzie's," he paused, adding " 'Hot Chocolate' is also a recent graduate of the Academy."

"White belt?"

"Nicole's," he took a deep breath. " Aka: 'Nick' or 'Farm Boy'. "

She looked around the cluttered, but 'very' interesting environment. "And, somehow, this all makes complete sense to you, Jack? I mean, as a father?"

He thought for a second and slowly shook his head, No.

"I need a bathroom."

He pointed to Nicole's.

"Oh no!" She looked at him, surprised. "I think, maybe, any bathroom but that one!"

Flustered, Jack stammered, "Sorry, I wasn't suggesting ..."

She held up a hand. "Look, Jack, beginnings are important. I'm okay with 'master's bathroom'; I'm okay with 'wedding ring and former wife's bathroom'." She smiled, reaching up and tenderly touched his cheek. "I'm even okay with 'guest' bathroom."

He took her back to the master bath. He asked, "Do you need anything?" He shuffled his feet. "I mean, can I help?"

She laughed. "Jack, it's all good. I've been bathing myself ever since my mom decided I was too old for my dad to bathe with me anymore. I'm fine; you go make us drinks. I'll have a shot of whatever the oldest bourbon you own is."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oldest bourbon?"

"Yeah, remember I'm a college student; I can't afford the good stuff because ..."

" ...because you have this huge college debt," he completed the sentence for her. "But you like bourbon?"

"Good bourbon? Yes, I do—very much," she answered with a grin. "I'm not a snob; but, just because I'm on a beer budget doesn't mean I lack class. Turns out that I'm rather discriminating about a lot of things, including men and bourbon. I sometimes drink it with my dad."

He walked back down the hall to Nikki's room and looked at it for a while, lost in thought or something like it. Then, he flipped the light off and pulled the door closed. He took a deep breath, listening for a moment to the sound of the master bath's shower. Jack headed slowly down the stairs.

In the kitchen, he poured two shots of bourbon into two 'tall shot' glasses and put the bottle back. He added an ice cube to each glass, holding his to his forehead. Cooling the fevered brow, he mused.

He sat down on the large leather couch and set one glass on the coffee table; then, with a studied sense of finality, he deliberately stood back up and crossed the room, tossing the cube from his glass out through the open doors onto the deck towards the hot tub.

Here's to new beginnings and second chances!

Even as Jack settled back down on the couch, he felt her standing behind him. He reached up with the other bourbon, and saw her hand take it.

Jessica sat down beside him. She was completely naked and positively stunning. God Almighty, now that's a body that will take your breath away. Why the fuck are you hiding that? You looked so 'mousy' in that theater uniform.

"Cold bourbon?"

He merely pointed to the open door. "Toss the ice." She did.

"But, it's still cold."

"Trust me, Jessica. It won't be, once you 'swallow'," he taunted her, smiling at his play on the word.

Accepting his challenge, she tossed the shot straight back. The liquor flowed down her throat like molten gold; her tongue's taste buds exploded with exquisite flavor. She coughed just a little, much to her embarrassment.

"See what I mean?"

"What is this stuff?!" she sputtered

He got the bottle and sat it on the table. She examined the label, noticed the dust on the bottle and opened it, sniffing the contents. "How old is this?"

He smiled. "Not quite as old as you, but close"

She read the label again, Old Weller--107 proof, 15 years in casks. She looked at Jack and pointed to the bottle. "Can I?"

"You may."

She poured another shot. Capped the bottle, took the small glass, and gently held it between her naked breasts. As it warmed, she explained, "My dad always says 'bourbon should be at skin temperature'. He always holds it against his forehead for a little bit before he drinks it."

Eyes twinkling, she took the shot glass and handed it to Jack.

He sipped it. "Your dad is absolutely correct," he agreed, handing it back to her. "But, I like your way of warming it better." I wonder if you warm it this way when you drink with him.

She sipped it this time, looking up at him. Jesus, this is a great whiskey. She closed her eyes. It's almost sweet on the tip of my tongue; then, it warms as it goes back over the palate. At the back, it's all flash, bang, and gradually hot in a slow burn. I can taste oak or, maybe, hickory. The smell is slightly smoky, so the barrels must have been burned-out for storage of the whiskey. Something else, it has a feeling of Southern heat. The water in it wasn't pumped through pipes. The water used to make it was pure, like the taste of well-water drawn with a bucket or water from a limestone cave. Dark and clean. It's from the Deep South. I can smell the paper label; it's like the old notes of a currency no longer used. There's cotton and secrets in its flavor. It whispers of times long-past, but not forgotten.

She looked away, not saying anything. So, Jack Grant, what you are thinking?

Jack studied her, not really knowing what to say. "You're naked."

"Indeed, I am. I really wasn't dressed for a date, now I am!" she pointed out. "Besides, I'm one of those rare women who looks better naked anyway." Which happens to be true, by the way.

She turned slightly, bringing one foot up onto the couch, opening herself to his gaze. Go ahead and look, Jack Grant. You might as well know; I'm not body shy!

She desperately wanted for him to look. As for Jack, he desperately wanted to look as well; so, he did.

Damn, you're one uninhibited young lady and that body is a work of art! Absolutely stunning! He reached over and poured himself another shot of bourbon.

She put out her hand. He handed the drink to her. She took the glass and put it between her breasts while he watched. "I've always thought of it as making the bourbon blush."

Jack examined her more closely. Just a pinch bigger than Nikki, she was about 5'4" and weighed maybe 95 pounds, give or take. Medium-sized breasts with pointy nipples. No sag at all. She had a little bit of meat, making her all curvy. Most obvious was how fit she was. No, he decided, that body is more than fit. She has an actual six-pack abdomen and her leg muscles are almost like a body-builder's; but, her musculature suggests flexibility more than power. Her arms look muscular, but not ripped.

Her legs and ass were a thing of beauty. Coltish legs, tomboy I bet.

He glanced up, a question on his mind. "Nice body! I'm willing to bet that's more than youth and genetics."

"Gymnastics, until I was sixteen. Then, I got boobs and an ass. I still work out at the gym about five days a week. Just a good habit that I refuse to give up because of poverty."

Jack continued his examination. His eyes trailed downward; her flat tummy had a tiny patch of hair just above her sex.

He looked back up at her. She smiled, saucily. "Just in case you need something to wipe your face on, afterward. Assuming you're any good...at that?"

He saw her clitoris; she was pierced, the hood of skin above it had a small ring with two tiny pieces of what looked like turquoise as end caps. The piece was a little heavier than her petite frame would suggest. It was made of thick gold. God damn!

She handed him the bourbon. He sipped. It was so good, he had to close his eyes. All he heard was, "Pretty special, huh?"

He opened his eyes. "Let me see your ass, 'Just Jess'."

She stood and turned over on the couch, coming up on all fours with her butt facing him. She didn't look back; however, she did push her ass backwards to where he was sitting, settling almost onto the heels of her feet. It was just inches from him. It's fucking perfect, muscled and round.

Jack had to admit, she had a nearly perfect peach of a camel toe.

He reached out, feeling one cheek then the other; next, slowly let his hand trace the cleft of her mons, first with the back of his hand, then gently inserting two fingers into her. He heard her sigh softly as they slipped effortlessly in. Like the bourbon, she was wet and warm.

When he'd satisfied his curiosity, she moved away and sat back down facing him again. He took his fingers and slipped them over the rim of the shot glass into the whiskey, swirling them slowly. He licked his fingers then took the shot.

She actually giggled. "I've never seen that before."

"Me neither, maybe that's what guys really mean when they order two fingers of bourbon," his voice broke around the burn of the whiskey. It was husky, but not from the alcohol.

He didn't take his eyes off her, and she didn't blush as he continued to examine her body.

"Jack, earlier I said that this is all about beginnings," Jessica began, nervously. "But, I know what you must already be thinking, because I went down on you in the theater."

"And, you swallowed," he added. "Actually, I don't know quite what to think."

"Stop trying to be funny or clever," she chided him gently, "I know you must think that I'm easy. You probably think I'm some little slut. I'm not. Truth is that I'm just so horny, I could die. Don't you ever get horny? I mean, so horny you'd do anything to get laid?"

"Jack, I don't need you to be clever; I don't need you to be smart; I don't even need you to be gentle. I need to know and for you to understand deep down that, if you don't take me right now, you'll regret this 'till your dying day. Because I know I certainly will, if we don't ..." Words failed her, as she looked into his eyes for some glimmer of comprehension.

His eyes darkened for a split-second. Something deep inside him was being unleashed from its shackles.

She shivered. His eyes showed her a need that was so deep her throat began to hurt, like she was going to cry. Nothing, no one had ever looked at her like that. Jessica moved back into the couch as he stood. What's the longing that hides so dark inside you, Jack Grant? There's a lot of need in those eyes.

He didn't say a word as he picked her up and threw her over one shoulder. It was one of Jack Grant's signature moves. She squealed. He headed for the stairs. Her world was upside down, but she had to ask, "Protection?"

"I'm safe."

"Jack Grant, you're a lot of things. But I suspect, 'safe' is not one of them."

He laughed. It was a gentle, loving laugh. "No. All in caps: S. A. F. E!"

Jessica smiled a topsy-turvy, upside-down smile. "Sweet!"

He tossed her onto the bed.

She watched as he took off his shirt, belt, pants, socks. 'Commando', she almost smiled. "Well, look who's ready to play again."

Jack Grant was not a small man. He was 5'10", 215 pounds with wide shoulders and a hairy chest. Jessica appraised him, He's a bear. Not a teddy bear, either. A man bear!

He was a little past ready. He tried to be gentle as he reached for her ankles, pulling her towards the edge of the bed. His shaft arched outward from his abdomen, with just a drop of moisture sparkling on its end.

She took a chance, because, 'beginnings matter'. She kicked his hands away. "No, not gentle! Not this time!" she demanded, moving back on the bed.

Jack Grant took her. He wasn't gentle; but, he didn't hurt her either. He just wasn't gentle, not that time.

Jack had her legs over his shoulders, as he lifted and fell between her thighs. He pounded her. She took it and begged for more. He pounded her, harder. The first thing he noticed was that she had a lot of control, where most women didn't. Most women grab firmly onto a shaft when they cum. Jessica had the ability to grab, even when just fucking. She worked him as hard as he was working her.

He was panting from the exquisite sensation of being milked by a pussy. He gloried in how she moved the loose skin up and down the length of his shaft with just the clench of that exquisite velvet sleeve.

For her part, Jessica was frankly impressed with his stamina. Jack had a nice cock, not the biggest she'd ever had, but well into the very-nice range. He's thick. Very thick at the base.

She enjoyed the pleasure that his cock gave her as it pulled her almost inside-out. Not bad for an old-style fuck. Not bad at all.

What she liked most was the pace he maintained; how he matched her needs. He paid attention to his partner's needs. I bet you won't cum till I tell you that you can.

They had already been fucking for almost an hour. He isn't even breathing very hard. His cock is still firm. And, he doesn't seem to have any problems maintaining an erection. Sweet!

"Jesus, Jessica, you're a tight, hot wet fuck." He forced another grunt from her as he seated himself deep and rocked his hips.

Jessica reveled in the sheer passion of it all. Men are why I don't date boys. I fucking love getting pounded. "You aren't even close to cumming yet, are you?"

He shook his head, No.

"How is it possible that you don't want to cum? I know you're enjoying this. How can you resist filling me up?"

He slowed and gently dragged his cock out of her. "I'm really enjoying you. I love fucking. You need to understand; I love having a hard-on. I love the feeling I get with a woman. I love feeling you, up here." He touched his head. "I love knowing that you're taking pleasure along with me."

He reached down to run his hand over her abdomen; then, back up, to cup her breast with its bullet-hard cone of a nipple. Jesus, you could cut glass with these. "And, I fucking love this body of yours. Seeing you in that uniform, I would have never guessed you were built like this. Jess, why do you hide this exquisite body?"

Instead of answering, she merely responded, "Can I ask you a question?"

He nodded his head.

"Don't be offended, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow, but nodded again.

"Do you take those little blue pills?"

Jack Grant laughed. "No, I don't take Viagra. What makes you ask that?"

She looked up sheepishly. "You must be about my father's age. So that makes you what? Fifty? Most men seem to need encouragement or the help from that 'little blue pill' at some point about in their life. I mean, we've been going for almost an hour and you're still rock hard."

Jack grinned. "I'm fifty-four to answer your question. No, I'm not offended. No, I don't take that 'little blue pill'. I've just always been slow to cum. Possibly, because cumming isn't my first objective when bedding a woman."