Rosenjack *** Chapters 31 - 32
...I'm gonna give you every inch of my love... Whole Lotta Love (Led Zeppelin)
My relationship with Marjorie was touch and go for a few days. After the level of intimacy we had achieved, it would have been wrong to go back to only showing up once a week for dinner; but the other end of the spectrum, which would have been to start coming over every day, hanging all over her, bringing her flowers and chocolates and other such gifts as I could afford, was loaded with unknowns that I didn't know how to deal with. And while I was very fond of her, and maybe even could say I loved her after a certain fashion, it wasn't the all-consuming passion I felt for Rose; it wasn't the kind of feeling that makes love songs make sense.
For her part, Marjorie seemed as unsure as I was. If we ran into each other, we'd smile and nod, maybe exchange a few pleasant words, and then be on our separate ways. I wondered if the encounters were as painful for her as they were for me. The uncertainty was damned nigh unbearable, the anxiety thick with unguessed possibilities.
It was Marjorie who unwittingly (?) found the way to break the logjam of emotions that was crushing me, by restoring my ability to lust. When I first found Rose, after I had begun to realize what she meant to me, no other woman had been able to arouse me. I mean, when I was doing my chores or whatever at the pool, I was able to admire the swimsuited forms of the women there, but it was just that: admiration, not lust. But on the Thursday after my date with Marjorie, as I was checking chemical levels in the pool (and while Rose was doing homework in the common room), she showed up in her flag bikini for a little swim. She walked past me, and as she did, her hand snaked out to give me the barest little squeeze on my upper arm, hardly enough to register as a touch, but definitely a deliberate move on her part; then she dove from the board and began to swim laps. As I stood there gazing abstactedly at her moving through the water, I realized I was geting an erection; I was lusting after Marjorie, fantasizing about her, like I had with no other woman since Rose landed in my life. I knew then that I wanted to pursue this, needed to see the results of devoting my attention to this woman, the mother of my soulmate. I had to act; when she climbed out of the pool, I approached her with a towel.
"Hey Marj, have you got a minute? I want to talk to you about something," was my entrée. Her half-smile was crooked, a lift of one corner of her mouth that reflected her uncertainty and curiosity; impaling my heart with a winsome dimple. Her eyes traveled down my body, as if searching for a clue to what I was about, and when she saw the bulge in my pants, her eyes widened in surprise and anticipation. I draped the towel around her shoulders and gave her arms a gentle squeeze, then led the way to my room, and as I ushered her in by placing my hand in the small of her back, a tremor ran the length of her body. I closed the door, then positioned her in front of the cot and with a gentle pressure on her shoulders, made her sit down on it. She didn't know what to do with her hands; they were fluttering like little lost birds seeking safe haven, wandering from the cot to her lap to her stomach, back to her lap. I leaned forward and began to massage her shoulders; gently at first, then becoming a little more vigorous, kneading and rolling my fingers down the sides of her arms. The relaxtion was almost immediate. Her hands settled, palms up, on the cot at her sides; she leaned forward into my fingers until her face was almost touching my stomach, her eyes closed in a serene meditation.
"Marj," I began, and when, after a long pause, she after she answered with an almost inaudible 'mmmmmm....', I continued, "I don't know where I'm going with this." I reached down with my right hand to gently knead her breast, rubbing my thumb over her nipple. "But I know it's someplace I want to be. Someplace I want us to be. Together." She was so relaxed that she allowed herself to fall forward, her face plowing into my stomach with a tender thump. As I began rubbing her back, she became so loose and limp under my touch that she slowly slid down my front, until her face was next to the bulge in my pants. I unsnapped and unzipped, pulling myself out while trying to avoid disturbing her restful position. She slowly opened her eyes and gazed at my erection, a faint langorous smile touching her lips. She reached up to caress my balls, then gripped and kneaded them between her fingers. The feeling was incredible, and I couldn't stop an animal growl from stretching the back of my throat. I let her continue like that for a few more minutes; she was breathing on my hardness and squeezing and rolling my balls between her fingers, pulling moans from further back in me than I knew existed. The feeling was sweet torture; every time I thought couldn't take any more, she pushed me onto a new level of pleasure that started the whole thing over again. When I knew I absolutely couldn't take any more, I pushed her shoulders almost roughly down onto the cot, pulling her bikini top over her head and arms and tossing it to the floor before advancing on her stomach and breasts with my tongue. Her hard nipples belonged in my mouth; as I swirled around and around those beautiful nubs, she began twitching, her head making little jerking motions as she softly moaned, "uh... uh... uh..." and her fingers wrapped themselves in my hair. My hands were busy pulling off the bikini bottom and tossing it aside as well. I kissed and licked my way down her stomach, and when my tongue found it's way down to the clean valley between her legs, she began twitching and grunting, kicking me in the side with her heels. God, why did it feel so good to be kicked like that? Any other time and I'd have been fighting it off or trying to get away from it; but this felt so right, so natural and therapeutic... she tasted so good and right under my tongue, so... so... juicy, damnit, is the only word for it, like a luscious peach. An image suddenly formed in my head of Marjorie beneath me on her hands and knees, and I flipped her over and started vigorously tonguing her butt. Somehow I found the time to slip my clothes off, and then I was facing her from behind, pulling her up onto her knees until her rump was right beneath my gut, her face still buried in the pillow. Perfectly positioned, I guided myself into her waiting temple, smoothly sliding all the way into her hot, wet flesh with one motion. She let loose a little shriek when I did that, then wrapped her arms around the pillow and buried her face in it, groaning, almost singing, matching me stroke for stroke. I was almost as surprised by the level of violence I was thrusting into her with, as I was at the level of violence she was returning every time as she thrust back onto me. I was gripping her hips hard just to try to stay inside her; we were slamming into each other furiously, and as I looked up, I saw the door to my room had been opened just a crack; we were being watched. Before I could react, I realized it must be Rose, finally able to satisfy her curiosity. The door opened a little wider, and I could see that it was, indeed, Rose. She was looking right into my eyes and smiling the strangest smile, and as I returned her gaze and mouthed 'I love you', Marjorie suddenly reached back, trying to grab me and pull me as deeply into her as she could get me. She was trembling, her thighs almost vibrating, as the first orgasm rolled over her. I felt miles away from cumming, strong and in control. I kept thrusting into her with a steady rhythm, and Marjorie was screaming into the pillow, her hoarse cries escaping from the corners as I pumped with everything I had. I lost count after her third orgasm, but it felt like she made it to at least ten before I finally reached my own climax. Just before I came, I pulled out and rubbed myself between her butt cheeks, thrusting and sliding the bottom of my cock against her smooth skin, and when I ejaculated, I surprised myself by exploding so hard that most of the shot arced over her head to splatter on the wall behind us; only as the throbbing subsided and the last few squirts came out, did a few drops land on her back. Spent, I slid my throbbing wand back into her love sheath, and we collapsed onto the cot, snuggled up into each other. Glancing over, I saw the door silently close, but not before I caught a glimpse of Rose's wild Cheshire grin. Just before we fell asleep, I covered Marjorie's neck with kisses, and she gripped my hand and hugged it to her chest; she mumbled something I couldn't quite make out, but it sounded a lot like 'love you Stan'.
I woke an hour or so later, still stiff, to discover Marjorie and her swimsuit both gone from my room. As I glanced down at my erect penis to congratulate it, I recalled that just before I woke, I had been dreaming about Marjorie sucking me. Maybe it hadn't been a dream; maybe she really had sucked me as I slept, and that's what woke me up. What a pleasant alarm clock that would be... I rolled over to get up and was startled by the sight of Rose sitting in the corner, legs tucked up underneath her and a gooey smile on her face. She was licking her lips as if savoring the taste of something that had recently crossed them, and she grinned like a maniac and said, "About time, you lazybones. Was wondering what it took to wake you... UP," punctuating her remark by holding her fist toward me and popping the index finger up and out to depict an erection. "You're as hard as a rock, Jack. Think you have one more load in you?" she said coyly. After double-checking that my door was locked, she slipped out of her clothes and climbed up on my chest, facing my erection, sliding her gorgeous little butt up until my face was buried in it. I had no choice but to start licking and sucking on her precious coochie, while she put my cock and balls through a fantastic regimen of squeezing and twisting, with a generous amount of tongue work applied to the tip. It felt like it took forever, but I was finally ready to shoot again. When I told Rose, she quickly moved around until she was kneeling between my legs, pumping my cock so fast her little hand was a blur and chanting, "Come on Jack, COME on Jack, come on Jack, COME on Jack", and when I shot my load, it was a repeat of the wall-splatter I had achieved earlier with Marjorie. Rose shrieked with delight when it happened. "I KNEW it," she crowed, "I KNEW I could get you to shoot that far. Wow! You really launched that one, you little rocket!" This last remark was spoken directly to my penis, and she leaned down to take me in her mouth and clean me off with some noisy slurping and sucking. As out of breath as I was, I still managed to gasp, "Holy god, Rose, I love you so much it scares me sometimes." Her giggle was muffled because her mouth was still full.
...when in doubt, I whip it out, I got me a rock n roll band, it's a free for all... sssuck it... Free For All (Ted the Sledge Nugent)
Two days later; it was Saturday morning, and Rose wanted something. She kissed me awake as she knelt beside my cot with breakfast in bed; a couple of toasted strawberry Pop-tarts and a glass of milk. As I sat up and put my glasses on, Rose helped herself to one of the pastries, nibbling nervously at the corner. She was unusually quiet, almost pensive. "Did you sleep good?" she wanted to know. As good as could be expected, I supposed aloud. I took a bite of Pop-tart and chewed slowly, watching the play of hesitation and desire across her beautiful little face as she debated the best way to ask me something, her mouth working to shape first one word, then another. I had to laugh in spite of myself, "It's okay, sweetheart, just spit it out. What do you want?"
"Okay, okay, it's like, it's like, there's this, like, this... like, this... dance, like, coming up at school, and I, I wondered, if you'd want to, uh, like, take me or anything?" and suddenly she was biting her lower lip and gazing at me with a nervous look that was so full of hope, I could have dipped some out with a ladle.
"What, you mean, like a date?" I asked, not quite sure of what I was hearing.
"Uh, no, no, of course not, no, no, not a date, no, not a, just a... I mean, yeah, kinda, not really, just, kinda, if we could... I mean, I was hoping we could just, uh... oh Hell, I don't know what I mean. All I know is I just wanna be at this stupid dance with you so I can, like, I don't know, get your take on Brittany and her posse." At the mention of Brittany, I felt my ire rising. I already had a take on her, and I knew that I had to do something to put her in her place; I just hadn't doped out what it was yet. Rose went on, "I wanna know if you think they're really doing the stuff they say they do with their boyfriends, you know, like blowjobs and fuc... humping and stuff. I was hoping you could maybe give 'em the once-over, you know, kinda look 'em over and tell me if you think they're telling the truth about what they do with their boyfriends, or if you think it's just bragging or exaggeration or lies or whatever. And anyway, I just want to go someplace with you where there's music and we can dance!"
I had to consider my response for a few seconds while Rose sat anxiously by. "Well, how would you explain me away?" I finally ventured. "I mean, I guess it's not like prom, where you have to have a date, but I'm supposing kids probably don't bring chaperones to something like this, do they?"
"I guess not, I don't know, I've never been to a dance before."
"Well, what did your mom say about it? About going to the dance, I mean, and about me taking you?" I wanted to know. She looked down at her hands. "I, uh, I haven't asked her yet," she said so quietly that I almost couldn't hear her, then just a little louder and faster, "I wanted to know what you said first, 'cuz if you said no, then there'd be no reason to ask her."
Trying to digest all this brought a rush of conflicting emotions. From sheer force of habit, I worried about what Marjorie would say (though by now I really knew she'd say yes). I was depressed that Rose wasn't thinking of the dance in terms of having fun; or at least, the kind of fun intended. I was nervous at the prospect of being seen with Rose in a public location, fearful of saying or doing something stupid to give away our secret. And I was curious to see young girls bragging so openly about having sex. Of course, I was sure they wouldn't talk like that in front of me. If I really was going to take Rose at her word, we'd have to find some way to get them off their guard.
Marjorie surprised me a little by having to be talked into it, and Rose said she almost didn't make it. But in the end Marjorie relented and took her shopping (at Rose's request) for something to wear to the dance. That something turned out to be a silky smooth cream-colored dress with white laces down the side and a pale pink heart on the chest, a pink so faded and delicate as to be almost invisible. When I showed up at their apartment at 7:30 the night of the dance, Rose answered the door, and I was stunned by the vision in front of me. The hem of the dress was probably 3 or 4 inches above her knees, long enough to cover up what needed to be covered, yet short enough to grab my attention and not let go. At the look of awe and wonder that must have been on my face, she ducked her head demurely and smiled up at me. 'Thank you,' she whispered as she took the single rose from my hand, taking the opportunity to stroke my fingers lovingly as she did so. She whirled to show the rose to Marjorie, who just beamed at her as she fiddled with the camera, then took a picture of us, my arm around Rose's waist and her fingers making a V above and behind my head. Marjorie pressed the keys to her car into my hand and wouldn't take them back, so that was our transport to the dance.
The closer we got to the school, the more I found I was horrifically nervous over what might happen when I just showed up in a roomful of kids, escorting a girl who was young enough to be my daughter. When we got there, Rose led the way up the steps, through the blocked-open doors that led to the hallway outside the gym, and up a flight of stairs to a mezzanine that looked down on the gym floor. The facility had been done up with all the standards of a school dance: crepe strung from the rafters, paper cutouts, a scattering of chairs, and a mirror ball someone had suspended from the ceiling; and the floor populated by scores of kids moving around to the music that came from a massive sound system near the back door. Rose spotted Brittany almost immediately. I looked in the direction she was pointing and saw a little knot of five girls standing together, chatting animatedly and gesturing at the other people around them. One of them stood out in particular; her massive blond hair floated around her face, and her cleavage was in ample view. I thought I recognized her from when we had dropped Rose at her house, but she looked so different now. I pointed her out; "Is that..." I started, and Rose piped up, "Yep, that's her." Brittany was wearing a dress that was so short, if she leaned over for any reason whatever, her buttcheeks would probably be in clear view. I wondered vaguely what kind of underwear she was wearing; Rose saw the direction of my gaze and, reading my mind, muttered, "...probably just wearing a thong under there..." Gulp.
"Well, it looks like they're probably catting it up pretty good down there," I said. Rose wrapped herself around my right arm; I glanced down and saw that she seemed to be flushed, breathing a little harder than normal. Her breasts were pressing into my side, and I... Good god, when did her breasts get that big? Why hadn't I noticed it before?
Down on the floor, Brittany was doing a bump and grind, thrusting her hips at some kid on the other side of the floor. As he started to walk over to her, Rose looked up at me. "Did you see what she was doing?" she asked. "See that guy, Dean? Did you see, how she was getting his attention?" I nodded abstractedly. "I saw," I replied. "So at least she doesn't have any trouble chasing cars... the little bitch. Let's see if she knows what to do with one once she's caught it." Rose's shriek of laughter could be heard clearly above the pounding bass from below. The kid Brittany had hooked had almost made it over to where she was standing, when Brittany turned on her heel and walked away from him. He paused for a second, but when Brittany looked over her shoulder at him and smiled, he quickly resumed his advance.
"C'mon," Rose grabbed my hand, "I bet she's gonna take him to the weight room." We hustled across the mezzanine and down another flight of steps. Rose peeked around the corner, then gestured for me to look too. I saw Brittany leading Dean by the hand; they were walking away from us, and when they came to a door at the end of the hall, they ducked inside. "That's the weight room," Rose whispered, "see, I knew it. I heard Brittany say she likes it in there cuz it smells like guys." I wrinkled my nose; the funky odor of sweat and struggle was not one I would have chosen for a liasion. Rose led the way down the hallway, until we were right outside the open door to the weight room, but standing just in front of another door that appeared to be a locker room entrance. Rose was edging up to the weight room door and motioning me to do the same. I could hear voices, low and indistinct, then Brittany's voice came suddenly loud and clear in the stillness. "What's wrong? I thought you said you were good to go, anytime, anywhere." The boy muttered something I couldn't make out. Brittany said, "Nobody's coming, nobody's gonna see us. What's the matter, you need a preview or something? Take a look at these babies and tell me you're not..." More muttering from the boy, then Brittany snorted. "If you're not hard in two goddamn seconds..." The sounds of shuffling, of bodies moving and clothes being adjusted, told us we were in danger of being caught ourselves. Rose grabbed me and pulled me back into the locker room, just far enough back so that when Brittany came storming out of the weight room and flouncing down the hall, she didn't see us hiding there. We waited a few seconds for Dean to follow, but when I heard the sound of weights clanking, I figured he must have decided to get in a few reps to try to prove his manhood to himself. Poor kid.
We made our way back up to the mezzanine for another look, but Brittany was nowhere in sight. A couple of the girls she had been standing with were dancing with a guy; he seemed to be enjoying the attention he was getting from two women. We watched for awhile, but neither of us had any idea how to continue with the objective of sizing up Brittany's status as a whore, especially since we didn't know where she had gone. We descended back down to the main level and made our way out to a corner of the dance floor. The DJ was playing some hard-driving dance thing with a rhythm that was so insistent, I almost felt like dancing in spite of myself. Rose noticed me moving to the music, and she showed me a few of her own moves. I wish you could see her dance; so graceful, so full of energy and motion. She boogied and shook and really strutted her stuff. If it hadn't been for my trepidation over keeping our secret, I would have been insanely proud to have anybody see me there with her, to see what an absolute hottie I had attracted. We danced for a couple of songs, then sat down to rest for a minute. Rose wasn't even breathing hard, but she had broken a light sweat. I asked if she wanted a soda, and she agreed that sounded good. We exited the gym, only to find the concession stand closed, so we continued on down the hall to where the vending machines stood waiting next to the cafeteria. As we stood perusing the choices the soda machine had to offer, we became aware of low voices coming from the cafeteria. Rose put a finger to her lips and sidled up to the entrance, being careful to stay out of the line of sight of anyone in there. As we listened, I was able to make out most of what was being said. Rose looked at me and mouthed the words, "Brittany and Harmony".
"...don't know what the deal is," I heard a voice say, and I recognized it as Brittany, "I've never had a guy who couldn't get it up for me." The second voice, Harmony, said,"Maybe you came on too strong. Maybe he's never done it in a public place like that before." A harsh snort from Brittany: "Maybe he's a little faggot who doesn't know it yet." Harmony: "What's the deal, anyway? I mean, why did you wanna do Dean? I thought you were gonna stick with Randy for awhile and see where that went?" Brittany: "Oh for god's sake, I wasn't gonna DO Dean, I just wanted to see how hot I could get him. Never hurts to have another fish on the hook. And anyway, I'm still pissed at Randy. He was supposed to poke the Sweet Little Virgin for me, but he never even got to first base with her. Stupid cunt." I blinked involuntarily as anger came surging up, before I realized that "stupid cunt" had been directed at Randy, not Rose. Harmony giggled, "Sweet Little Virgin, that's cute. What do you care about her, anyway?" Brittany paused for a few seconds, as if she needed to switch gears; when she continued, she said, "Sweet Little Virgin really wants to hang out with us, it's like she thinks we're hot shit or something. It was kinda touching at first, she was so respectful and eager, like a puppy dog. I WAS feeling kinda sorry for the kid, but I don't think so anymore. I mean, I felt like giving her one more shot, but she just keeps laying it on thick with the 'me too, I have sex too' act, and it's getting pretty old. She tries to talk like she knows all about sex, but it's obvious she's never done anybody. Maybe she fooled around some at summer camp or something, but as far as letting a guy poke her, nuh-uh." Harmony asked, "What makes you so sure?" Another snort from Brittany. ""Have you listened to her? She has all these romantic ideas about 'tenderness' and 'love' and bullshit like the earth moving and angels singing and magic fireworks, shit that only happens in romance novels. It's obvious she never had a guy feel her up under the bleachers or try to force too much of his cock down her throat. I bet she's never even kissed anybody." Harmony laughed out loud, "Right, like you ever bother to kiss anybody!" Brittany's sneer was lightning quick, "Fuck you." A creak from the cafeteria benches told us they had gotten up. In a blind panic, Rose and I hustled back, trying to hide together on the side of the soda machine furthest from the cafeteria. Our situation was a little ridiculous, but it worked; neither Brittany nor Harmony saw us as they walked right past the vending area, and we could hear their voices continuing on down the hall as they walked back toward the gym.
I turned to look steadily at Rose; she couldn't return my gaze, and I took her chin in my hand and forced her face up to mine.
"What have you been saying to her?" I wanted to know. "Have you been talking about sex with her?"
"Well, yeah, a little. I mean, sometimes at lunch, when she's with the other girls, and she says something that bothers me, I want so bad to tell her there's more ways to do it than what she knows. I mean, she thinks she knows everything there is to know about sex, but in some ways, I know more than she does. Like, when she said she's never cum from having her pussy eaten, I wanted SO BAD to tell her that's because she's never had a real man do it, only stupid little boys who don't know how to eat pussy, and I almost did say that, but I toned it down and said maybe she hadn't had the right guy do it yet. Or like, when she said Rod tried to do anal sex on her, and she said how much it hurt and she wouldn't let him finish, and it hurt for a couple of days and she couldn't walk straight for a week after that, and I was laughing so hard that milk came out my nose, and I think that kinda pissed her off... and I couldn't even tell her the reason I was laughing was because she was doing it all wrong, and that anal sex feels so good and she really sounds ignorant when she says, 'never again'."
Of course I couldn't help but be touched and amused. "Okay sweetheart," I said, "I wasn't upset, I just wanted to know. So, maybe I'm not quite as angry with her as I thought I would be, but I'm still really put off by her arrogant attitude... anyway, I think we've found the answer you were looking for. She's not really a slut, more like a whore who uses her body to get control over guys." Rose nodded; "Thanks for doing this for me, Jack, I knew I could count on you."
I looked down the hallway; a cool evening breeze from the open door to the parking lot was pushing the thumping bass line down the hall toward us, and I felt a touch feverish. I hugged Rose briefly, then stood back to put my hand on her shoulder. "Is it okay if we take off now? We can go get something to eat..." Rose looked a little uncertain, and even a touch disappointed, and I thought she was going to ask if we could dance some more, but it only took her a couple of seconds to smile and say, "Yeah, that'd be great. I just gotta hit the bathroom first, okay?"
As we walked back toward the gym, Rose gestured down a short hallway that led off at a right angle from the large hallway we were in and said, "There's a bathroom right down there, I'll only be a minute." She hurried off in the direction she had indicated, and I stood leaning against the wall to wait for her. As I stood there, Brittany came in from the parking lot. She took a drink from the water fountain that was five or six feet from where I stood, then looked up at me as if she recognized me. I tried to smile at her, but I'm afraid it was more of a grimace.
"Hi," she said, "I've seen you before. You dropped Rose off at my house for a slumber party, I think." I nodded, unsure of what to say. She continued, "So what are you, like, her uncle or something? Or her mom's boyfriend?" I laughed nervously, "Something like that. Actually more like a friend of the family." Brittany narrowed her eyes as if seeking to size me up; "Brian, right?" I felt a little more relaxed at that. If she couldn't even get my name straight... I corrected her, "Brent, actually."
She nodded as if something had been confirmed. "Listen Brent, maybe you can tell me something. Rose has been telling me about some wonderful hunky guy she says she's been dating, but I've never seen him, and I think she just made him up. I like her, but I'm not gonna let her lie to me. Help me pin her down on this, please?" She batted her eyes at me and tossed her hair over her shoulder. My god, the little whore thought she was teasing me; she had no idea how turned off I was by this little display. She smiled a beauty pageant smile and said, "Tell me, really, does she even know any guy named Jack, or is it all just a goof?"
My head was spinning. Oh my god. Rose HAD been talking... she hadn't said who Jack was, but she had said... had said... shit... How was I going to navigate this? If I denied she knew anyone named Jack, I was confirming Brittany's belief that she was a liar, and if I said she DID know Jack, then I would be trapped into making up lies that I would have to coordinate later with Rose, or worse, contradicting something Rose had already told her about Jack, once again "proving" her to be a liar. And what, exactly, had Rose said about Jack? She must have said SOMETHING to Brittany about having sex... with Jack... there had to be a middle path I could tread... maybe I could just plead ignorance...
Rose came out of the bathroom behind me and up the little hallway. All she could see of the main corridor was the wall in front of me; Brittany was around the corner, out of her line of sight. I heard her giggle, and as she sang out, "Oh, Ja-aa-aack, guess who's not wearing any pan...", she rounded the corner and saw Brittany standing there in front of me; the final syllable died on her lips, "...ties". Brittany's mouth slowly dropped open as she looked at Rose, then back at me, then back at Rose, then back at me. Her hand came up to her mouth in a perfect "Oh My God" gesture, and she looked me square in the face and said, "Oh holy fuck, you're Jack. YOU'RE Jack."
"It's... it's ju... just a nickname," I stuttered weakly; my stomach had turned to water and my balls were trying to climb up inside me. "I don't... don't know who she... what she..."
"No, no, no no no no no," Brittany waved her hand at me to shut me up. "Oh holy fucking Jesus Mary and Joseph, she's fucking her grandpa."
That little crack was enough to pull me out of it; the surge of anger that suddenly overwhelmed me gave me new strength, and I felt strong enough to take on an army of Brittanys.
"Yep," I said, feeling a death's head grin taking over my lips, "I've been FUCKING her mom, but not anymore. This little beauty OWNS my muff-diving meat rocket now. She's a red hot volcano that has what it takes to turn my tired old worm into a steel-rod fucking machine. She's wrecked me for any other pussy."
Brittany's look of triumph died on her face as I said this. Now it was her turn to splutter and second-guess. "No, wait a minute," she babbled, "wait wait wait a minute... how... how did she get you to say that? How did she put you up to... you... LYING... sack of shit..."
"Forget it, cunt," I sneered, "you're way out of your league. Rose has forgotten more about sex than you'll EVER know. Give it the FUCK up. Whore." I turned to look at Rose; her eyes were black basketballs, and the look on her face was such a perfect mix of horror and pride that I almost didn't recognize her for a second. "C'mon, sweetheart, we've got better things to do than mix it up with some burned-out cumbag." I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to me to give her a full-out wide mouthed French kiss, making sure Brittany would be able to see my tongue going into her mouth. Rose didn't resist, and after a few seconds she responded by kissing me back, her leg sliding up against me as if to open herself to my new-found stiffness. With a last withering glare at Brittany, I put my arm around Rose's waist and steered her out toward the parking lot. We were parked quite a ways back, well away from the sodium-lit glare of the parking lot lights. I was walking a little too fast, and Rose was struggling to keep up with me. "Ja... Jack..." she whimpered, "what are we gonna do about... about...", trailing off because she didn't know quite what to ask. "Shhhh," I whispered, "I don't really know what I'm doing, but I had to do something. We'll figure it out later, right now let's just get the hell out of here." I walked Rose around to the passenger side of the car and as I unlocked the door, I looked up to see Brittany advancing on us.
"Stop right there, asshole," she barked, "this isn't the LEAST FUCKING BIT FUNNY. You think you're so goddamn clever, but you're just making yourself look like a fucking idiot. Stop FUCKING with me, you ancient piece of shit, and tell the truth. You just felt sorry for the little liar so you thought you'd go along with her ridiculous fucking lies to try and rattle my cage. Admit it, and I might let her keep hanging around us."
I looked Brittany straight in the eye. This had turned into a battle of wills that I had to win, but I could only think of one way to do it; by proving the truth to her. I took a look around the parking lot; nobody was near us, we were completely isolated, alone and adrift in this little corner of the universe. My rational mind realized with a sudden shock what I was up to, and it threw it's hands up and said, 'To hell with this, you're on your own.' My throbbing member was only too glad to take control. I was standing behind Rose, and I pulled her to me, rubbing my bulge against the thin material of her dress as I wrapped my arms around her from behind and held her close. The smell of her hair was filling my nose as my hands slid up her stomach to rest on her beautiful breasts. I massaged and rolled her nipples through the material of her dress, and she responded with a confused, "ooohhhhhh..." My hands were all over Rose, but my eyes never left Brittany's shocked and angry face. I was getting exactly the reaction I wanted, but I needed to push it further. I reached down to my fly, unzipped, and pulled my erection out, then slid Rose's dress up until her bare ass was pressed up against my hardness. As I was kissing the back of her neck, I pulled her leg up to expose her sweet little coochie, my fingers diddling and seeking the opening of her crotch. She was getting very wet, and I knew we had come to the moment of no return. Grinning at Brittany, I turned Rose around to face me, then slid my hands under her thighs and lifted her up in the air, positioning her glistening lips right over my stiffness. This entire time, I had been looking at Brittany; for just a second, I broke that gaze to look into Rose's eyes. She kissed me deeply, then pulled back and whispered, "I trust you, Jack. I love you. Let's do this." I positioned the tip of my cock at the entrance to her temple and, looking right back to Brittany, slid into Rose all the way to the hilt. Rose cried out a little, but it was a cry of desire and pleasure. I stumbled forward a couple of steps, until I had Rose's body trapped against the car. I began to thrust in earnest, kissing her neck and face as she dug her nails into my back. Brittany was beyond anger, beyond shock; she just stood there in the parking lot, watching us with her mouth wide open, her hands flexing, fists clenching and unclenching as if she were squeezing stress balls. Rose understood what I was going for; she started panting loudly for Brittany's benefit, "Fuck me Jack, fuck me hard." I obliged by doubling my stroking speed. I was going to climax soon, and I could tell Rose wasn't going to, but we both knew this wasn't about pleasure, it was about power; we were in this to put Brittany down, to make her understand how pathetic she was for slamming what she didn't understand. That thought was pounding in my head as I pounded Rose's gorgeous cunny, her arms wrapped around my neck as her head fell back. I could feel the magic about to explode, and as I kept Rose's body pinned up against the car, I pulled out and grabbed my cock with my free hand, stroking like an insane thing until my spunk suddenly exploded from the tip, to splatter at Brittany's feet. Holding Rose to me, I backed up a step, opened the car door, and deposited her limp form into the passenger seat. With some difficulty, I tucked my hardness back into my pants and zipped up, then walked around to the driver's side. As I slid into the seat, I gave Brittany an obscene leer, licked my lips, and said, "Good night, cunt. Go find one of your sad little boyfriends to drill you, and maybe we'll let you keep hanging around us. Cumdump." As we drove off into the night, I checked the rearview mirror to see Brittany still standing there looking after us, her hands hanging limply at her sides like dead weights.
I must have gone into some kind of shock, because the next thing I remember, we were parked in the back of the lot at Flinger's. I shifted in my seat to turn and face Rose, who was looking out the window. When I touched her neck, she turned to face me; shimmering tears were running down her perfect cheeks, and she slid over to wrap her arms around me and bury her face in my neck.
"Oh god, Jack, what are we gonna do? What are we gonna do? When Brittany tells someone, what's gonna happen to you? God, Jack, I can't lose you, I can't! I don't want you to go to jail!"
"Shhhh, shhhh, stop, sweetheart, stop, don't think about it right now," I murmured, stroking her hair and holding her close. "We can probably just deny the whole thing. It'll be our word against Brittany's. I don't think we have anything to worry about."
"I hope you're right Jack. I pray you're right, I pray to God you're right. Oh god, I love you so much." She took a shuddering breath, and suddenly her eyes lit up as she broke into a mournful laugh. "Did you see her face? I mean, my god, did you see her face?!?" she said.
I laughed along with her. "Yes, I did. It was incredible. We punctured her bubble so HARD!" I said. We were laughing uncontrollably now, hysterical and out of our minds with some unnameable emotion. When we finally calmed down enough to breathe, we looked at each other and, in silent agreement, got out of the car and walked into the restaurant to see what we were hungry for.