The Training of Jeff Stintum Ch. 09

Chapter 9: A Nighttime Visit

For Jeff, the hardest part of this whole arrangement was obeying Sarah's command not to cum. As soon as he had read her text, he sat there on the bed, utterly overtaken by excitement, and yet at the same time he was thoroughly puzzled. Through the indistinct and familiar fog of his drunkenness, his head pounded through the reality of the moment, and he felt the massive gravity of the narrative building in his head. His ploy had totally worked. That was exactly what she was waiting for. Of course she had been waiting for that! That's what she wanted to see!! He had been right all along — she'd been playing hard to get, and she wasn't going to let him get it easy. She wasn't going to come crawling to him, come begging for a relationship. She was gonna make him work for it. Because she wasn't like other girls, like all the ones who rejected him. She knew she was hot stuff; she knew she was a pretty piece, a trophy that not just anyone could get. And unlike all these other bitches, like Cassie, like all those broads from the bars, Sarah wasn't afraid to be a woman, to let him, Jeff, do the chasing. To let the man actually woo the girl for a change. Jeff couldn't have congratulated himself more as he lay down to sleep. He literally fell asleep chuckling to himself, a knowing and vainglorious grin plastered across his face.

The only thing that threw a slight wrench in this otherwise triumphant narrative was Sarah's stipulation that he was not supposed to cum until he got to her house. 'What the hell was that all about?' he wondered as he walked into the grocery store the next afternoon. Was it some kind of flirty little game that she liked to play? Jeff had never heard of guys being told when and when not to cum. The only porn he really watched involved the dude cumming whenever and wherever he felt like it. What was she doing? It seemed like a game to him.

'I mean, it's Sarah after all,' he thought with a knowing smile as he made his way over to the pharmacy aisle. Though he hadn't really noticed for weeks, his limp had gotten worse. 'And she's a little...uh, well, different. She's into science and stuff. This was probably just part of her wild side.' He browsed and quickly found a box of Magnum condoms and waited until some people passed him by to take them off the shelf. He hadn't bought condoms in a long, long time, but whenever he had, he loved doing it slowly and deliberately, so that people would notice exactly which brand he was buying. He loved their quick surprised glances. Yeah, he was a smaller guy, sure. But he was sure as hell big where it counted. Back when he did have sex, he didn't much care for condoms. But he figured he'd bring them to Sarah's because she was young and inexperienced and might freak out about unprotected sex.

'That's just the kind of guy I am,' he thought as he walked down the aisle toward the flowers, holding the box of condoms out conspicuously in front of him with two hands. 'Considerate.' He stood in front of the flowers and breathed in their fresh wet scent. What kind of bouquet would Sarah expect him to bring? He had to get it right.

'I mean,' he thought to himself as he stood in front of the flowers, 'this whole don't-cum thing isn't really that complicated.' He picked out a bunch of white daisies and lilies and brought them to his nose to smell. 'No way, too plain. Anything but plain flowers.' Sarah was definitely not a plain girl. He had to find the flowers that described her best as a person.

'It's probably just her way of trying to be, uh...what's the word...kinky. Yeah, that's it. Kinky. I took our relationship up a notch and she was just trying to show me that she could match it. What a dirty girl, I love it.' He selected some bluebells and smelled them. 'Nah, too sweet. Sarah's a sweetheart, for sure, but she has this little kinky side. I need something else.' He browsed more and continued musing.

'What's more,' he thought as he rejected the yellow tulips (too cliche), 'this is some kind of...like...ownership play on her part. Like she's staking her claim to me.' His dick began to harden in his pants as he thought about this idea, although he had to steer away from where his mind was going. He didn't want to be owned by anyone, even his girlfriend, because he was a man and nobody owned him. He did, however, like the idea of her wanting to claim him as hers, and nobody else's. His mind jumped to fantasies of of jealousy — he was talking to a female friend who was trying to flirt with him, when Sarah came up behind him and put her arms around him from the back. 'Who's this you're talking to, babe?' came Sarah's calm voice in his fantasy. Although Jeff couldn't see her eyes, he knew their steady, piercing green was regarding the overmatched, small, inadequate other female with confident and watchful superiority. His cock got even harder.

'And maybe,' he continued thinking as he chose some roses, 'she wants to make sure that I...uh, that I can perform or something.' The roses were a wonderfully deep red and had a rich, profound scent. 'Perfect,' he thought, and headed to the registers. He knew he could do the self-checkout, but he wanted an actual person to see what he was buying, to know that he was in for one heck of a night.

'She doesn't need to worry,' he thought smugly as he stood in line behind a middle-aged woman, who stood a head taller than him (She has to be like 45 or so...she looks like a mom), 'performance is never really an issue with me, no many how many times I've cum.' He kept thinking, still puzzled by Sarah's command. 'But surely she'd know this about me? Of course she wouldn't be worried that I'd be able to give her what she needed, right? So why tell me not to —"

"So how's your school going?" asked the cashier to the middle-aged woman in front of him. Jeff stopped thinking and listened to the conversation. School?

"Oh, you know. Always busy," laughed the woman, putting her (mostly domestic) items on the conveyor belt.

"I hear you, I hear you," laughed the cashier, scanning the items.

"It's what I've realized," continued the woman, swiping her card, "When you're in grad school, you may have summer break, fall break, Christmas break, yadda yadda, but you're never really on break, you know what I mean?"

"That's what my son tells me," said the cashier, nodding knowingly as she handed the woman her receipt. "You're always working."

"Yep," said the woman, smiling as she grabbed her bags to leave, "But hey, there's always the good things in life, right? As of last week, I can rent a car now, haha! Last big milestone until I can get social security!"

"Oh, girl!" laughed the cashier, "happy birthday! See ya next time, ok?"

"Bye!" said the woman as she walked away. Jeff came up behind her, confused.

"Will that be all for you sir?" asked the cashier, still smiling from her previous conversation. Jeff watched the woman leaving the store, looked at his two items of the conveyor belt, and then looked up at the cashier.

"Uh, no...no, that's it."

"All right then," said the cashier kindly. "That'll be $16.53." Jeff fumbled in his wallet for the credit card he used to buy things. It all went to an account that his parents paid off each month. He was disappointed — the cashier hadn't said anything, or given him any sign of recognition that he was buying (large) condoms and flowers. But more than anything, he was still confused. How was that woman still in school? Did she go back to grad school after raising a family? He felt somewhere in his brain that the whole car rental thing was a giant clue to her age, and in this moment, he felt like he needed to know.

"Um," he asked the cashier tentatively after he had swiped his card, "uh...how old do you have to be to, uh, rent a car?"

The cashier looked at him without expression for a moment, and then she smiled and said, "Young man, I believe it's something like 25."

"25??" asked Jeff incredulously.

The cashier kept smiling as she handed him back his receipt. "Well, I think you can rent a few years earlier, but it's more expensive. More surcharges, things like that. When you're 25, you can rent just like anybody else."

Jeff stood there, his bag of flowers and condoms in his hand, not knowing what to think. That woman was 25??

"But don't worry," said the cashier sympathetically as she began scanning the next customer's items, "There are other ways you could rent a car, I'm sure. There's some good stuff online — "

"But..but no, no! I'm 28! 28!"

The cashier looked at him a moment, confused, but then she recovered and said, "Oh, o-ok. Have a nice day sir," and started talking to the next customer.

Jeff stood there a few moments more before turning and limping out of the store, annoyed and distracted.

'What the hell was all that about?' he wondered as he got into his car. He winced as he pivoted his hip, and for once he was aware of the sharp pain that seared up through his pelvis and down his leg. He needed to make that appointment for surgery...and here Jeff stopped dead in his tracks.

He hadn't made the appointment. Sarah made him promise that he would. It had been over two weeks, and he hadn't made it. Jeff began to panic, wondering what Sarah would say when she learned he hadn't made it yet. His heart beat faster and faster, and he felt his face and neck flushing. His hands began to feel like they were getting pricked by little needles, and as he clutched the polyester armrest in the driver seat to steady himself, he felt his sickly, cool, clammy palms interact uncomfortably with the artificial fabric. She would be angry, disappointed, maybe even disbelieving. She would feel that he couldn't hold it together; she would know that he wasn't what he said he was; she would find out.

Then Jeff looked at the clock. 6:30. He paused a moment, and then breathed a sigh of relief. There was still time. Of course there was still time. He took a couple of deep breaths and managed to smile, and after he looked down at the condoms and flowers he had just bought, he actually laughed out loud to himself in his car.

"Oh boy!" he exclaimed audibly, "Look at me. A bundle of nerves!" He laughed again, the worries of a few moments previously evaporating in the air. He got out his phone, found the hospital number in the email from a few weeks ago, and within ten minutes had scheduled his hip replacement surgery. He even wrote down the time and date in his (otherwise empty) calendar, about three weeks away. He couldn't have been more proud of himself.

And now all that was left to do was to drive around until 8 o'clock. That was what "night" meant to Jeff. Any time before then was too early, and any time later...well, he just wanted to get over to her place. The more he thought about Sarah's texting style, the more turned on he became. She was short and to the point. No messing around, no dilly-dallying, no games, no chance for miscommunication. 'She really is a woman,' Jeff thought to himself as he drove aimlessly around. 'A woman who knows what she wants and who isn't afraid to get it.'

He looked down at his erect cock. He nodded to himself and smiled. 'Yeah, that's right, she knows what she wants.' His mind jumped back to her mysterious "no-cumming" text, and he wondered if maybe it had something to do with fertility. 'Maybe she wants me to keep my sperm count high,' he thought, as he turned down random roads in the gathering gloom. 'Maybe she's actually that far-out, that she actually wants all my sperm for herself.' He went uphill and downhill as the sun completely set. 'Maybe she has some kind of sperm fetish,' he thought hopefully, turning left at a stop sign. His dick was now almost fully erect, and he remembered that he had to keep it under control. 'In any case,' he thought as he pulled a u-turn and began driving toward's Sarah's house, 'I bet she gives the best blowjobs.'

He arrived at Sarah's house just after 8:00, and any traces of light from the day were gone; night held full sway. Jeff limped up to Sarah's doorway once more, which was well-lit with a pleasant orange light emanating from two lanterns on either side of the door. Jeff looked at the two lanterns, and felt the stillness and silence of the growing night deepen around him. All of his smug thoughts and self congratulation and plans for the future seemed neutralized in the face of those lights. They were like silent, steady guards, sentries with watchful eyes. In that moment, Jeff doubted whether he could pass them.

Something outside of himself, however, bade him knock, and he did. He stood there a few moments, completely still, his heart not seeming to beat.

"Is that you, Jeff?" came Sarah's sweet voice from deep inside her house.

"Y-y-yes! Y-yes it's m-me!" squeaked Jeff, clutching his condoms and flowers tighter.

"What was that?" said Sarah's warm voice again. "I didn't catch that — speak up!"

"I-it's me!" said Jeff a little louder, still seeming to squeak.

Jeff thought he heard something like a soft laugh. "Ok, Jeff. Come on in — I left the door unlocked."

With difficulty, Jeff gathered up his parcels in one hand to turn the knob, and then pushed in through the door and into the house. The door was heavy, and as he pushed it closed behind him it seemed to boom shut with a heavy finality.

"Lock it, will you?" came Sarah's delicious voice again. She must have been in the living room. Jeff did, and then turned to face the interior of the house. Whereas last time the lights were bright and cheery, complete with enticing aromas of food, this time all the lights were low and dimmed, and the whole house seemed to bathe in a deep red. A few candles were flickering playfully, and they must have been scented — the place smelled like lavender. Jeff began walking down the hallway, towards the kitchen and living room. His body was shaking like a leaf.

He rounded the corner, and there she was. Stretched out on that red sofa in the living room, waiting for him. As soon as Jeff saw her, he stopped. She had on a tight white t-shirt and a pair of black gym shorts, and her feet were bare. Her luscious body easily filled up her scant clothing, and as she lay there, propped up on her elbow, she looked like a great cat examining something it was about to eat. She smiled as she saw him.

"Oh, look at that," she breathed, almost to herself, "he brought me flowers." She chuckled. "Jeff, how sweet! You brought me flowers...and...something else?" She inclined her head a little toward the box on condoms that Jeff was squeezing in his hand. He was still visibly shaking.

"What else do you have there, Jeff?" she asked slyly. Jeff tried to make words, but his throat felt like a fountain that had been dry for centuries. He managed only a few coughing sounds.

"Jeff," said Sarah's deep loving voice, "why don't you come on over here?" Jeff tried to move but couldn't at first.

"Come on," said Sarah patiently, stretching out her hand and beckoning him with a single, long, manicured finger. "Cooommmme on Jeff, cooommme on —" Jeff's legs started to move towards her. "That's it," she said kindly, "Come on, cooommmme on, yeah, that's right, theeeerrre we go." She had sat up to make room for him on the sofa, and he sat down next to her. He kept his head down, but he was still able to see her huge legs and torso. God, her thighs were just enormous, and her calves were incredibly shapely. His head reached the bottom of her neck — them both sitting down, she was about a head taller than him. And here he was, on her sofa again, and he could not stop shaking. He was crushing his box of condoms into oblivion, and green water ran down his shriveled wrists from the rose stalks that we was unconsciously compressing.

Sarah's large hand came into his view, her pointed fingernails like claws, and it seemed to span his entire lap. A couple of silver rings glinted from her fingers, and that black hair tie hugged her wrist. Her hand seemed seemed so ferocious, and yet all it did was reach out and take Jeff's knee and lower thigh in its warm, soft, strong embrace, and squeeze it gently, deeply.

"Jeff," whispered Sarah from somewhere above him, "Jeff." He couldn't answer her; he couldn't even raise his head. He looked at her hand on his knee, his thigh, and wondered whether she could simply twist it and snap his leg in two. Seeming to confirm his thoughts, she shook his knee lightly with her hand, and the vibrations reverberated through his whole body. He wasn't shaking anymore — now she was shaking him.

"Jeff," cooed Sarah again to him. "Jeff...Jeff...Jeff..." she was quietly chanting his name now, and he finally answered by looking up at her. She was looking down on him and smiling genially, her mane of blond hair flowing down her shoulders. Even in the darker light, Jeff could see the green glint of her eyes, and the red of her lips. He perceived her teeth.

"Jeff, hey. It's me, it's just me!" Her hand shook him a few times more, gave him a parting squeeze, and then let go. He saw her handprint on his knee and upper thigh, and his color took a minute to come back.

"Don't be nervous," Sarah continued. "Here, let me take those." She reached down and took the mutilated flowers and the pulverized box of condoms in one hand. She put the flowers gently on the coffee table in front of them, and regarded the box of condoms with an amused smile. She held them up to Jeff, her smile growing wider.

"What are these for, huh?" she asked sexily. "What did you get these for, Jeff?"

Even though the answer was obvious, it seemed absurd at this stage to even contemplate having sex with Sarah. Jeff was just focused on not falling to pieces there on the sofa as he sat next to her. But she persisted, seeming to enjoy his position.

"What are these for, huh? What do these do?" She brought the box to her face and pretended to investigate it seriously, her eyebrows furrowed in mock concentration. "Are they for eating?" She brought the box up to her mouth, licking her lips as she snapped her teeth at it. Jeff jumped in his sofa cushion at the sound of her teeth. Sarah laughed down at him, her eyebrow arching at him playfully.

"No? Not for eating? What about smelling? Do they smell good?" She began sniffing around the box seriously, blinking as she inhaled in short little audible bursts, like an animal investigating a foreign object. Jeff's cock got even harder as he watched Sarah sniff around the box. He couldn't understand what about her play was so irresistible to him; he just knew that he had no defense. He managed to shake his head up at her.

"No?" asked Sarah, grinning, "not for smelling? Well then it's a mystery! I guess I'll just put these over here for now." She stretched over from her sitting position and deposited the crumpled box on the coffee table next to the roses. Jeff was aware that, from his sitting position, his reach would not get anywhere close to the coffee table. But there it was — his gifts deposited, it was just him and Sarah on the sofa. She had stopped his shaking, and he was able to look at her. She bunched up her knees playfully against her prodigious chest, with both of her bare feet on the sofa in front of her. Even half a sofa away, Jeff still felt absolutely tiny next to her. She let a few moments of silence pass, her elbow propped up against an armrest, looking down at him curiously. She had kindness, or at least playfulness, in her eyes, but her expression was neutral. As each moment passed, Jeff felt more and more like an animal...a little animal with a tiny tail, being watched by a predator. He realized it suddenly — she was giving him a chance to talk, to steer the conversation, to take charge. But he could think of nothing to say. Time passed by, and Sarah's eyes never left him. The candles flickered on the walls around them.