8 comments/ 9062 views/ 16 favorites Simple Song Pt. 01 By: 40DayDream Hi there, the wait is over! (OK, I don't think anyone but me was waiting, but still.) This is the first part of my longer story that I have been working on. Part 01 (this one) does not contain any sex. These crazy kids will have to wait for their boom boom pow. I do think the sexy bits in the next part are by far the best I've written and it will be submitted at the same time as this one, so you have that to look forward to. The beginning might be a little odd and I've tried some unconventional things to get into the head of someone with ADD. So if you don't like the style, it will become a little more toned down later on. Disclaimer: All characters who engage in slap and tickle are at least eighteen years old. All rights reserved. Prologue - In My Dreams A couple may love each other with all of their hearts, but often enough, their love starts with something else entirely. In this case it started with her ass. And this particular ass... well... words do not suffice... Walking down the hallway in front of him, he could only see a pair of shapely legs and a spectacular butt in volleyball shorts. He didn't notice her long brown hair, her knee brace, or anything else... just that ass. As he followed it, he couldn't help but think that this ass was the reason that volleyball shorts were invented. This ass was the reason that the term bubble butt was invented. This ass was the reason that asses were invented. All he could do was stare, his mind blank of any other thoughts. It seemed like her butt was staring back at him. He didn't know how long he had been following it, or where he was, but his mental faculties were slowly starting to come back to him. He was wondering if he knew this ass... rather... this person. Had he said hello and shaken its... her... hand? Was she new to the school or.... WHUMP! Darkness and ringing. Painful, high pitched, ringing darkness... ***** As his eyes started to open he could see faces, or at least he thought they were faces, the faces were spinning violently... "Are you OK? Can you hear me?" One of the faces began to come into focus. He knew that face. It had a name... Her name was... Blackness again... ***** Someone was speaking to him, asking him if he was alright. The face that came into focus, it wasn't the one from before. "Son, how many fingers do you see? You need to stay awake, you blacked out again. Son?" He began to sit up. "Son, you have a concussion. Don't move." He felt dizzy. Now that he was sitting up, he was dizzy. He had never felt so dizzy before. And that's when he vomited. It turns out that a backpack full of textbooks will hit you like a backpack full of textbooks, even if it is being playfully tossed from one side of the hallway to the other at that moment. The impact is also worse if you are not listening to or watching out for your surroundings... because you are staring at the perfect ass in front of you. The moments are rare in this life when someone gets what they deserve, but as John Samuels slumped back onto the floor, even he wouldn't be able to argue that this was not one of them. Chapter 1 - Sleepyhead 7:15 AM... RING... RING... Getting up was never easy for him. Every morning was its own battle, and even though the concussion symptoms were gone, John still groaned as he sat up in his bed. 7:23 AM... RING... RING... He slumped back, trying to decide whether to get up. Red pill or blue pill? ***** He must have picked the red pill because he was walking (staggering) down the hall towards his home room, a Starbucks clutched in his hand. ***** Third period was calculus... hopefully He was certainly looking at the title page of an open calculus book. What was the class before this one? It was... It was... At least this wasn't the concussion talking, his memory always worked like this. Knee bounce... Toe tap... Now he was rubbing his head, not that he noticed. He rarely noticed the fidgeting. And then he stopped. That was her. It had to be her. It definitely looked like her hair. And her ear... maybe... well, he had actually never noticed her ear before, but it definitely could have been her right ear. This ear had three piercings: one in the lobe, and two in the upper ear. Mr. Nickolson was still droning. "Prove... speeding ticket... velocity... points... minimum speed..." It didn't make any sense. The bell rang. She was standing up and facing towards him to pick up her bag. If time was speeding by before for John, now it froze. In her sandles, the girl was 5'2", maybe 5'3", slender with flared hips. Hanging down a few inches below her shoulders, her hair was dark brown. But John didn't notice any of those details because she was smiling. And oh what a smile! At other times a catty girl might have tried to talk about how she had chipmunk cheeks, but when she was smiling, two gigantic dimples came out to play. Her whole heart-shaped face would light up when she smiled, starting with her bright green eyes. Once in a very great while, there is a smile that makes it feel like the sun just came out from behind the clouds. And this girl definitely had one. For the first time that day, John felt fully awake. Chapter 2 – Perfection as a Hipster Wippy "Don't Ask" Black was not having a good day. ("Don't Ask" was not actually her middle name, it just seemed like it was to her. People asked her about her first name that often.) Her knee was hurting again. And she felt fat. Ever since the knee injury, she had been putting on weight. It was only 15 pounds, but it felt like 30 to her. Of course, it would have been nice if someone had told her boobs so that they could blossom into C cups, like apparently every other girl in this school. And she hated her friends. It seemed like they were always ignoring her. For being only two weeks into her last semester of high school, she felt overwhelmed. Straight A's are a painful precedent to maintain. All of this might explain why she was in a black mood when she slumped down next to Sarah at the lunch table. The conversation continued on without pause. It was some type of gossip about people she didn't know. Suddenly, Sarah, elbowed her. It broke her out of her reverie. "Hey, you see that kid over there? Eating alone?" "Yeah." The kid in question was another senior. He looked a little stocky, with dark hair grown out over his ears, curling at the ends. He had a few days worth of beard, and also a large, dark bruise up one side of his face. "You know what I heard?" "Probably not." "That's the guy who got hit by the bookbag Monday. I heard that pervert got hurt because he was staring at your ass." "That seems unlikely." It was that boy, now she remembered. She had been the first person to him after he went down, but she had to leave to get to practice before he fully regained consciousness. "Oh, I think it's true. I heard that he followed you for, like, two hallways staring at your ass before it happened." Sarah continued, "Bitch, at least you've got something to follow, I'm glad to see you're not skeleton-skinny anymore." She pinched Wippy's butt while saying it, then immediately returned to the table's conversation. Wippy just sat there silently. It couldn't be true, could it? Why would someone be staring at her ass? Suddenly the day didn't seem quite so terrible after all. The boy sat up and left his table. He actually walked right past her to get rid of his tray! He didn't make eye contact with her as he passed, but at least she had gotten a better chance to see him. He was maybe 5'10" or 5'11" and a little bit stocky. His face wasn't going to end up on the front of any magazines (except "Pervert Weekly" Sarah would have told her), but it seemed pleasant enough. He was dressed a little oddly in a dress shirt with a tie on that was absolutely the wrong color. Was he colorblind? ***** Wippy watched John Samuels intently (she had managed to learn his name) over the next several school days. He might or might not be colorblind, but he was definitely a hipster. Some days he looked surprisingly good, and then some days he looked like he had dressed in the dark. The spying at least took her mind off of school. She was doing so bad right now, she was convinced. The quiz last period, she had missed most of the questions, for sure. Wippy had always gotten A's but she obviously wasn't smart enough to keep getting them. She was much dumber than people thought she was, that was obvious to her. Her mind went back to John. He was friendly enough with everyone except her, who he seemed to be avoiding. He even seemed scared to look at her. It didn't appear that he had any close friends. Sarah's gossip filled in some more details, once Sarah realized that Wippy was watching him. Apparently, the Pervert (as Sarah called him) was a little bit of an enigma. He never seemed to study with anyone, and he definitely didn't pay attention in class. He had spent a semester each on the baseball team, the chess club, the debate team, and the tennis team. No one knew why, but he had quit each after only a semester, regardless of his performance in them. ***** John had spent the time racking his brain for everything he could remember from junior year about the girl, who he would now be too ashamed to ever talk to. Her name was Wippy. (Weird name.) She was a straight A student, probably the top in the class. Or damn near it. Last semester she had been really skinny, like really, really skinny. He had thought she might be anorexic. Or bulemic. Whichever one made you really, really skinny. She reminded him of someone... Who was it?... Nevermind. They had shared a class, but he didn't remember her ever talking. Of course, he hadn't been paying attention for most of the time so she could have taught the class most days and he probably wouldn't remember it. He didn't remember her smiling very much. Knee bounce... Toe tap... Why hadn't he really noticed her before? Either way, it was well and truly fucked now. Chapter 3 - Have You Ever John sometimes thought that his life was like a vacation roadtrip, a few key events to be enjoyed with interminable hours and days in between them, the scenery whizzing past forgotten before it was even noticed. He often found himself in various places, in class being asked a question or standing inside his front door, without any distinct memories of how he got there. He was pondering all of this when he heard his name, likely not being called for the first time based on the frustration audible in the voice. He was sitting in the front row of the class. Why was he in the front row? "Mr. Samuels, I asked you a question." "You did... I mean... so sorry, could you repeat it?" "The answer on the board is not the same as the answer in the textbook. Do you know why?" Mr. Nickolson was speaking with mock patience. There was a pause, and as John started to respond it struck him. He was late! That was why he was in the front row, he had been late to class and it was the only available seat. "I did not think you would know the answer, seeing as you have not looked at the board in the last 40 minutes." The teacher turned away and asked if anyone else knew the answer. There was a question? What question? Oh yeah, the error, that was easy. "The factorial of zero is one, sir. That would change one of your terms." Mr. Nickolson did not know how to respond. Knee bounce... Toe tap... John's attention was already gone. He was busy wondering if things would have been different if Leibniz and Newton had just talked to each other. ***** Wippy was fascinated. She had never seen anyone act quite like him before. She had been watching him the whole class and she did not remember him having looked up at the board even once. It was time to try something different, she decided. Maybe he would make an interesting study partner. She was definitely going to need one for this class. At least there might be one class she wouldn't fail. It was such a bad semester already. ***** After class, John was just beginning to get up when he saw her walking up to him. He felt like a mouse hypnotized by a snake, he couldn't move or escape. She stopped just in front of him. "So, do you want to be study buddies?" Even worse, she was smiling at him. John did not know how to respond. He was vaguely aware that there were noises coming out of his mouth, but none of them were words. Yes, and also, can I put a quarter in one of your dimples? No! Too forward! Try again. Yes, and also, what does your sweat taste like? Wow! Way, way too forward! Try again. "Well... umm... I don't know if you want that." Her face was more serious now. "Why is that?" "I make for a terrible study partner. Anybody who has worked with me in the past claims that I won't do my part of the assignment until ten minutes before it's due. I don't... I don't think you want that." She flashed him another grin. (Damn!) "Oh, that's not a problem. Everyone who has worked with me complains that I don't let them do any of the work. Apparently I have 'trust' issues. "So, tomorrow after school in the library?" All he could do was nod helplessly. It took every ounce of willpower that John had to resist looking at her ass she walked away. ***** They learned quickly that they were a good team. He helped her learn the concepts, while Wippy acted as a good role model for him to work harder. She found out that he had a strange mix of A's and C's; it was confusing why someone who was so smart couldn't succeed. It also turned out that he was fairly funny once the nervousness wore off. He learned she really was the top in their class, with straight A's and honors classes. She was intelligent, approachable, and when she smiled it literally made him dizzy. How was she not dating anyone? Of course, the thought of asking her out made his palms clammy. Chapter 4 - Magic Numbers Their study sessions were unconventional. Wippy would study intently, occasionally throwing questions at John. For his part, John would study for ten minutes or so before he would start doing something else. On this occasion, he was building a house of cards. Where in hell he got the deck of cards, she had no idea. It was really quite impressive. She had never seen someone build one so quickly. Great, she thought, now I'm distracted too. As if he could read her mind, John suddenly flipped a quarter through the house of cards, toppling it to the ground. (Where did the quarter come from?) Before all of the cards had even hit the ground, John already had his calculus book in hand, intently studying whatever section he was open to. A few minutes later, he shut the book. To be honest, it was a little infuriating. "If you had to write a novel, what would it be about?" She simply looked at him. She had no answer ready for a question like that. "I mean, I think it's a pretty interesting question. Like, I think I would maybe write one about if... you know, if 17th century sailors had discovered some secret to turning salt water into fresh water. I mean, I bet that would totally change the history of colonization. Right?" Wippy couldn't resist a smile. Apparently that encouraged him to continue. "Or like, if it was Mr. Nickolson, he would probably write this story about this totally hardass cop who solves all of his crimes with basic math principles that he explains in a really condescending way to the criminals. That seems like it would be totally up his alley." She couldn't help but laugh at that. "Hey, what did you get for seventeen?" He continued. How did he change speeds like that? Chapter 5 – Different Names for the Same Thing A few weeks later the two were sitting in the library studying Calculus together. At least, Wippy was. John wasn't looking at his textbook. This was normal behavior for him. Suddenly, he straightened up looking like he had just woken up. "So what's Wippy short for? That's... uh... got to be short for something or stand for something... or something, right?" "No, it's not short for anything." "Then why is your name Wippy? I don't believe you." "Whatever. Good for you." "Look me in the eye and tell me that Wippy isn't short for anything." His finger was raising her chin so that they were eye to eye. She had a grin on her face that she couldn't hide. John actually thought he could see her eyes sparkling. "Oh! You are so lying!" "So what?" At this point, John chose to slam his textbook shut in a show of mock anger. Even he jumped at the sound. It also earned him glares from the people on the other side of the room. "I refuse to work with someone who can't be honest about their name." His voice was a hissing whisper. "Until you tell me what your name means, I am... I am just going to have to make up a name for you." "Ok." She was still grinning. "If you want it that way then you'll get it that way, little miss cool whip." They both laughed at that. More glares... "This will be easier for both of us if you just give in, miss mysterious." "Is that a fact, Jack?" They were both failing to control their volumes by now. "Yeah it is!" It was at this point that the librarian asked them to leave. John and Wippy left the library with a new dynamic to their blossoming friendship. From then on, Wippy refused to call him anything but Jack, even after he protested that everyone called him John. For his part, John nearly stopped using her name entirely. Instead he always had a new nickname for her. They ranged from the obvious ("old green eyes", "short stuff") to the unwieldy ("generic form of whipped cream", "oh-miss-short-of-stature-but-odd-of-name") to the oddly affectionate ("sweetpea", "my darling") to a range of names that made sense only to him ("Freudstein", "Mr. Vice President"). He also did whatever he could to trick her into telling her why she was named Wippy, inserting the question into most of their conversations. Sometimes it was in a string of school questions, or asking her when they first said hello, or waiting until she seemed to be deep in thought. He finally reached his worst when he actually woke her up from an accidental nap by whispering the question into her ear over and over. That earned him a slap. One would expect Wippy to be frustrated by his antics, and she sometimes was, but that reaction was surprisingly rare for her. Most of the time, she just enjoyed the fact that someone was taking such an intense interest in her. When she was alone, she would sometimes think about his nicknames for her. She couldn't imagine how much of his time must be spent thinking about her for him to come up with so many. She knew he didn't act that way with anyone else. Wippy would never have admitted it to him, but it made her feel special. For his part, John would have been willing to kill a water buffalo with his bare hands just to earn another smile from her. He couldn't admit it out loud, but he was besotted. Chapter 6 - Kick Drum Heart It took a while for John to build up his courage. He had never asked a girl out before, and he wasn't sure he knew how to do it. He probably would need to do it casually. Whatever that means. In the end, it was a month before John got the nerve. He arrived at the coffee shop early that day (only an hour or two early), to prepare himself. All he could do was fidget. What if she said no? Knee bounce... Toe tap... What if she laughed at him? Even worse, what if she said yes? What if she said yes, but meant no? Knee bounce... Toe tap... Simple Song Pt. 01 What if she said yes, but then it turned out that this was like the Crying Game? What if she got offended? What if he accidentally mentioned the Crying Game? He spent the afternoon running through those question in his head, over and over, with no answers. ***** They were studying at a coffee shop. He appeared to be focusing even less than normal that evening. She glanced over at him every few minutes and it seemed that he was about to speak, but then her look would freeze him, killing whatever impulse he was fighting. Finally he spoke up, his voice squeaking out of nervousness at the start, "Wippy, would you go out with me? I know this is sudden, but you see... well..." Wippy was looking at him with a small smile on her face. She stayed silent, partly because she was so surprised to hear her name from his lips and partly waiting to see what he said next. She hoped it would give her time to make a decision. He leaned into her with a conspiratorial tone of voice. "Well, I'm sort of a catch. You see, my Mom... she says I'm very handsome and that any girl would be lucky to have me." She paused, staring at him with an open mouth. Then he winked. Wippy couldn't help it. She immediately burst out laughing, a full belly laugh. Stopping to catch a breath, she finally responded, "I don't know whether I can trust her. Is she a smart lady?" "She certainly thinks so." "In that case, I guess I need to trust her." "Great, leave everything to me. Don't worry, this will be the best Burger King you ever had." He acted confident, but John had no idea what they should do. Without a doubt, he had some planning to do. For her part, Wippy wasn't sure how she felt about the prospect; she didn't have much experience dating. On the other hand, John made her feel special in a way that nobody else ever had. And knowing him, whatever was planned would be... different. Chapter 7 - Supertheory of Supereverything John was just arriving at Wippy's house when the dashboard clock turned to 1:00. He knew that he had confused her by insisting that she be ready for a date Saturday afternoon, but he had a cunning plan. It confused her even more when he insisted that she needed to eat before he picked her up, and she needed to be wearing clothes that she could get dirty in. It was entirely possible that he enjoyed confusing and teasing her too much. His thoughts became a little bit more serious when he started wondering whether he needed to be more careful of her feelings. Either way, today was going to be fun. She was running out of the front door already when he pulled up, but John insisted on getting out to open Wippy's door for her. He actually had locked the door to give him time to get out, so she was a little frustrated until she saw what he was doing. "Your chariot awaits, milady." She stepped into the car. "Thank you, kind sir." He got into the driver's seat and started the engine up. "Where are we going?" She asked excitedly. "I'll tell you when we get closer." "But... I want to know now." She was pouting dramatically to drive it home. It almost worked, too. With her hair up in pigtails, wearing a flannel shirt over a ripped pair of jeans, she was just so damn cute. "You're making this hard." "That's what she said." She responded immediately. Wippy put her hands over her face, giggling uncontrollably. It was obvious that she hadn't meant to say that. "Ignoring that... Maybe we can make a trade. I'll tell you where we are going and you tell me what Wippy is short for." "I don't need to know that bad, so that's a no go, Jack." Ten minutes later, they were getting near John's destination. He stopped her in the middle of a discussion about music to have a little fun. "I think you're going to like today. I hope you're ready for some heavy petting." "What?!" Her mouth was open. "Oh, don't be... sheep-ish." He was starting to laugh, but she definitely was not. "What's wrong with you?" "I think I'll just duck that question." He was obviously stressing the animal names by now. With that, they pulled up to the parking lot for a petting zoo. John, could see the lightbulb go off behind Wippy's eyes. That was all he saw, because he had to raise his arms to defend himself as she began to frantically, if not particularly violently, slap him. After about a minute, she stopped. "What was that for? Do you not want to go to a petting zoo?" She grinned at him, then gave him a mock glare. "No, the petting zoo sounds like fun! That was for the terrible jokes, you idiot!" ***** They had a wonderful time. John had been right about Wippy; he had decided that she might be a very tactile person. It seemed like she was always touching his arm to make a point or slapping him lightly for something silly. He assumed that she would love the chance to spend a few hours holding and petting animals like that little teacup pig that she was cooing at right now. She was as relaxed as he had ever seen her. For his part, John was in heaven. The real reason that he had picked the petting zoo was because he wanted to find somewhere that she would smile, a lot. It was working. When they were leaving, Wippy gave him an excited hug as they walked to his beat up Corolla. Her smile still had not worn off. Getting up on her toes, she put her lips by his ear and whispered two words. "World peace." John looked down at her in confusion. She was staring back at him with a huge grin. "Uh..." Her grin widened. "Oh God, World Peace! That's your name!... Right? I mean, isn't it? Wippy is short for World Peace?" She nodded. "My Mom was the world's last hippy, so she decided to make a political statement with her only child. I tried shortening it, but 'WP' doesn't have a ring to it so I somehow ended up as Wippy." He was as happy as he had ever been. "So your full name is World Peace Black?" "No. It's worse... Much worse." "Don't make me guess again, woman. I would lose the little bit of sanity that I have left." "My full name is World Peace Soon Black." John was doing all he could to avoid collapsing over in laughter. He knew that might hurt her feelings. While he was busy suppressing those urges, she spoke up again. "Why didn't you ever look it up? I'm sure there are a hundred ways to find my actual name." "What would have been the fun in that? Now please get in, Miss Gandhi. I need to get you home." He didn't see the look of relief that crossed her face when she realized that he was still giving her nicknames. ***** Wippy was feeling relaxed on the way back. She had trouble admitting it to herself, but she loved all, or at least most, of the nicknames that John would give her. It was the reason that she had refused to tell him her real name for so long. She was afraid that telling him might somehow make the nickname game end. Because of how relieved she was, Wippy indulged in one of her more private pleasures. She insisted that they turn on some Katy Perry music, and then she loudly sang along. It was obvious to her that it was a minor form of torture for John. All he ever seemed to listen to were those breathy indie songs that sounded like they had been written in the 19th century. He deserved some torture back. Three songs later, she perked up. Shutting off the stereo, Wippy turned to John and made a request. "So, I've told you something embarrassing about myself. Now you need to." "But I don't know anything else embarrassing about you." He replied. Eye roll. "You know what I meant." "Hmm..." He was trying to focus on driving and found the conversation distracting. It was difficult to think of anything under the circumstances. I have at least three inappropriate and random erections in public a day. Nope, a little too personal. When I was eight, I walked in on my parents having sex... twice. Ok, that's just creepy. "The first thing I noticed about you was your ass. It's why I got the concussion." She was turned in her seat now, fully facing towards him. She also had a wide smile on her face. He couldn't stop glancing over at her. Oh good, another distraction. "I already knew that. Sarah told me a couple of days after. You need to come up with something else." He glanced over at her. The smile... Driving... The dimples... Those eyes... "The day that I first noticed you, I went home and threw out all of my porn. I didn't..." Need it anymore. He didn't finish the second sentence out loud, but it didn't exactly take Hercule Poirot to figure out how it was going to end. Oh God, what had he done! That was out loud. Maybe if he crashed the car into a tree, one or both of them would have amnesia. Ten and Two... Eyes forward.. Just pretend you didn't say it... Make it home, lock yourself in your room, and never come out... That will solve it. He felt her hand on his shoulder. John was terrified to look over at her, but he did it anyway. "It's OK, Jack. That's kind of sweet." Then she laughed, but a kind laugh at least. "Sort of pervy, but also kind of sweet. Thank you for telling me." Huge sigh of relief. "So!" The grin was back. "That means you've been thinking about me while you masturbate ever since then?" "Sort of... yeah... I guess. Sorry." He was tensing up again. "It's OK. I asked, alright?" Another sigh of relief. "So, don't girls masturbate too?" He blurted out. What was wrong with him?... Maybe that tree thing would actually work... "Of course we do, but we only masturbate to kittens and rainbows and the Jonas Brothers. Innocent stuff like that." They both laughed at that. A few minutes later they pulled up at her door. He was rewarded for the day with a kiss on the cheek and a 'call me'. This time he did watch her ass as she walked back into the house. What was wrong with him? Chapter 8 - Next to the Last Romantic The next day, Wippy made sure that she was a few minutes late to their study session in the library. She was simultaneously blushing and smiling to herself. This was the first time that she had ever acted like this with somebody. John spotted her when she was about ten feet away. He gave her quick look, followed by a surprised second look that lingered just a moment. He had, obviously, noticed her volleyball uniform. She knew that he looked at her from time to time, but she had also noticed that he was discreet and always seemed to beat himself up after he did. He groaned as she sat down opposite to him. "Why are you doing this to me, Babs? I bare my soul... or something, maybe not my soul, I guess... and this is how you repay me?" Wippy gave him her best innocent smile, even if she was blushing a bit. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just came from practice." "I am not so easily fooled as all that. There's enough blood left in my brain to draw simple conclusions... for now." There were a few more minutes of discussion like that. After they finished flirting, they got down to studying. A test was coming up at the end of the week. Or at least Wippy was studying. John, was watching her bite her lip in concentration, wondering if he would ever be able to tear his eyes away. "Why were you so skinny last semester?" Oops! He had not meant to say that. It wasn't fair, she should be required to wear a mask. Then he might be able to regain semi-normal brain function when she was around. "Why do you ask?" "Sorry. Me no think so good sometime, talk fast much stupid." She gave a little chuckle for that. "I don't think I was that skinny last semester. I'm just fat right now." He gave her a genuinely quizzical look. "The last thing you are right now is fat, girrrrlfriend." John drew out the last word trying to sound sassy. He did not succeed. This was a dangerous topic, he knew he needed to be careful. "I fucked up my knee at the end of last year. Since the surgery I haven't really been able to workout, so I've been getting fat." She wasn't making eye contact, so he put his hand on hers to grab her attention. She was surprised at how intense he looked. "You are gorgeous. You are definitely not too fat. Saying that you need to lose weight is like saying that the Coliseum needs less columns." She started to blush a little bit, but she still seemed uncertain. He continued, "Actually, that's why they called it the Coliseum, it's short for 'Columns, see 'em?'. You see, the ancient Romans were very precise in how they named things..." At this point she started to hit him on the shoulder, using the punches as punctuation between words.. "You... are... such... a... bad... liar." Putting his arm up to protect himself, John even surprised himself with how quickly he switched gears. "So... now that you're aware of my self-pleasure habits, it's only proper that you meet my parents. So... uhh... would you like to come over for dinner?" There was a pause while Wippy caught up with the new direction of the conversation. "Definitely!" For some reason, the request made Wippy feel happy "Great, you are going to like them. My Mom is really sweet and my Dad only speaks in cliches." "Only speaks in cliches?" "Oh, you'll see." "I'll look forward to it. "Oh, and Jack, about the shorts..." "Yeah?" "You said that you have such a poor memory, I assumed that you may need a refresher." She had a cheeky grin plastered on her face. "Now, I've got to run, Jack. I hate to have to leave, but I'm betting you'll love to see me go." Wippy took longer walking to the door then seemed strictly necessary. Chapter 9 - Parents Livingroom Wippy arrived at John's house a little early, she was so nervous that she had driven there more than an hour before, and spent the time waiting in her car across the street. His mother, JoAnn, met Wippy at the door. She was a middle-aged woman with greying brown hair. JoAnn was rather large around the middle, but seemed friendly enough. John's father, Tom, was sitting in the living room when she entered, so she met him next as John ran down the stairs. Tom extended his hand to her. He was a tall, powerfully built man with black hair. His appearance was startlingly different than his son. "Welcome to my humble abode!" Tom spoke with enthusiasm as he shook her hand. John joined them in the living room while his mother went back into the kitchen to finish dinner. There was an awkward silence, which John's father ended up filling. "So, John tells us you're as sharp as a tack." "Thank you, sir. I try." John spoke in, "She does more than try. Wippy is one of the top three students in our class." Tom laughed. "Well than how did John manage to make you date him? I guess it really is true about him. It's better to be lucky than smart." Wippy smiled, unsure how to respond the statement that really did not make sense to her. After that, the conversation went a little more smoothly. She quickly learned that John had a sister, two years older, who was at college. She also learned that John was 'the real McCoy', 'nothing to sneeze at', and 'a chip off the old block'. Eventually, JoAnn came back into the living room to announce that dinner was ready. They all moved to the kitchen table to sit and eat. JoAnn had made a meatloaf. Once they were seated, Tom turned to John and asked how his grades were. "How's school going? Working hard or hardly working?" Wippy was trying hard to suppress a laugh. She had assumed that John's characterization of his dad had been a joke. John cleared his throat. "Well, my grades have been up. Wippy has been a big help studying with me." She couldn't help but stare at John, slack jawed. Wippy couldn't recall a single time when she had seen John intently study. She had seen a few impressive houses of cards, an entertaining show of juggling, and no less than three drawings of Spiderman fighting a dinosaur, but she had never seen him 'study'. He flashed a smile at her, which she returned with a glare. He must have been poking fun. Once again, Tom spoke, "Good, good. When it comes to school, the old saying applies: 'Shit or get off the pot.'" JoAnn slapped him on the arm. "Tom, don't use that kind of language in front of guests!" The rest of the dinner went the same way. Tom made inquiries to Wippy or John, typically making use of some form of cliche in doing so. JoAnn said very little, but it was obvious that she was giving Wippy a close look over, as any protective mother does of the girl her baby boy brings home. Apparently, whatever she saw and heard was enough to satisfy her, because she became very warm towards Wippy towards the end of dinner. That was a relief! Once the meal was complete, John went to help with the dishes but was shooed off by his mother to 'go spend time with that lovely girl'. He took Wippy upstairs to his room and opened the door. The subsequent expression on his face told her that he had forgotten how messy it was until he opened the door. To put it shortly, you could not see the floor. The room was not particularly dirty, or smelly, but it was more cluttered than she had ever imagined possible. Stacks of books and other things were piled everywhere. She saw things like a biography of Thomas Edison sitting on top of a stack of seven paperback sci-fi novels. He looked sheepish, "Sorry, I forgot it was like this." That was a relief. "So it doesn't always look like this?" "No, it usually does. I just... I just forgot." And there was that feeling again. Wippy showed her opinion too easily, turning to him to ask, "Doesn't it bother you, living like this?" He looked deflated. She instantly regretted her tone, as well as her question. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just not used to a bedroom being like this." "We can go somewhere else. What would you like to do?" Wippy was considering it. Then she looked at him shyly. "You want me to help you clean your room?" He sighed. "No... but I'm guessing you do." They, of course, began to clean, or at least she did. John seemed to be moving back and forth across the room without accomplishing anything. Wippy was enjoying it. In a weird way, it was thrilling to be so close to him, to handle his possessions. She felt like she was getting to see more of him than she previously could. Every knick-knack, book, or toy told her something more about him. When she came across his shirt from the day before, Wippy couldn't resist bringing it (secretly) up to her nose to sniff it. It smelled like him. She had not spent much time pressed up against him, but she could tell anyway. Wippy had a sudden urge to steal the shirt, so that she could enjoy it later. She resisted. After an hour, John looked at her and said in a flat tone, "This is the worst date ever, Ethel." "What's wrong with a little cleaning date?" "Oh, so you went on cleaning dates with your other boyfriends. No wonder they're not with you..." His tone was humorous, but he stopped suddenly. "Oh crap, I'm sorry. That was the most douchebag-y thing I've said in a long time." She looked at him, uncertain how she felt. "I've never had a boyfriend before." "Me neither!" Wippy giggled. "You've never had a boyfriend before?" "No." John acted as if he were proud of the fact. The tension was broken. For the next hour, the couple sat on the bed and talked about random things until she had to leave. On her way out, Wippy nearly stole the shirt again. Chapter 10 - Keep It Clean "Jack, do you think that I'm pretty?" Her voice did not sound overly confident as she asked the question. They had been sitting in a coffee shop just hanging out. This time, John was intent with something on his phone while Wippy was the one who looked distracted. Simple Song Pt. 01 He looked up. "What was that?" "Nevermind. It was a dumb question." "We both know that I'm the one with a Masters in dumb questions, so I'm guessing it wasn't actually dumb." He smiled encouragingly. "What was it?" Her voice was even quieter now. "I asked if you thought I was pretty." "Well, there's got to be a reason that I'm always staring at you, so it's either that or the really big, hairy wart on your forehead. It's a toss up." She wasn't looking at him. "Crap, can we add dumb jokes to dumb questions for my repertoire?" John tried to lift her face back to him with his hand. "Yes, you are pretty. Astoundingly pretty, in fact. It would take someone much more eloquent than me to describe it." She was still silent. He couldn't read her expression. "Ok... here goes..." (deep breath) "I don't have adequate words to describe how pretty you are. Umm... I spend way too much of my time thinking about you... When I'm around you, it is physically impossible for me not to glance at you every few seconds... When you smile at me, I literally go weak at the knees... "OK, I'm not sure how else to describe it in gentlemanly terms." Now she looked straight at him. He still couldn't read her expression. "So what is it in ungentlemanly terms?" "Really?" "Yeah." John rolled his eyes. "I don't think that this is a good idea, but... I would rather stare at your face than stare at your ass... and... God, you've got, like, a fantastic ass... I'm sure that you have no idea just how bodacious... "I'm getting sidetracked. OK, so there has been more than one occasion when... well, when you smiled at me and your smile actually made me hard." He continued, "OK, now that I've ruined the relationship..." "It's not ruined, Jack. You may be nuts, but it's not ruined." Then to his surprise, she gave him another smile. "Oops, did I just make it hard again?" She asked as she was laughing behind her hands. "You are not going to let me forget this, are you, Jessica Rabbit?" Her voice was back to being shy. She probably only had the confidence to say this because she was about to leave and she knew they weren't going to be able to see each other over the weekend. "Maybe some day soon you can spend some time telling me a few more ungentlemanly things." She fled the coffee shop in as dignified a manner as she could, blushing deeply. Chapter 11 - Terrible Love Over the next few weeks, they spent time together at his house on a regular basis. She never invited him to hers. When John thought about it, he realized that Wippy spoke very little about her family or home. He knew that she was the only child of a single mother (who had named her World Peace). That was all. He didn't press her on it. In fact, John was having far too good a time to take any stupid risks with the relationship. They were dating, and he had fallen for her, but John was the most pleased by their friendship. He had never had a close friend before. The two continued to date, although in a relaxed fashion. Grades were going up for both of them. Wippy's had little room for improvement, but she was visibly less stressed. For his part, John still dressed strangely but it started to appear that he was at least picking his clothes with the lights on. They eventually started to make out at the end of dates. It was a first for both of them. After one of their sessions, while both were regaining their breath, Wippy spoke up. There was no context to the statement she made. "Do you want to meet my mom?" His mind was elsewhere, so it took him a moment to catch up. "Sure!" "OK. It's just that sometimes I think... she's just..." Wippy didn't try to finish the statement. John didn't push her. They agreed on a day, and split up for the night. ***** Wippy's stomach was tied in knots. She didn't know why, but the idea of her boyfriend meeting her mom was upsetting. John showed up right on time, looking as dapper as he ever had. He could see Wippy's nervousness immediately. It hurt him to see her like that. He was introduced to her mother, Mrs. Black. Wippy's mother was taller than her, although nearly as skinny. Where Wippy had soft features and brown hair, her mother's looks were stern and she had black hair. John quickly realized that his jokes would probably not be welcome that evening. The meal consisted of salads. Thinking about it, John had gathered the notion that Wippy was relentlessly self-critical, although it seemed like she might be getting a little better. Now he understood where her self-abuse came from. It started with the discussion on school. Whereas John's parents were only vaguely aware of his grades, Wippy's mother apparently knew her daughter's down to the homework and quiz scores. "Daughter," (That was what she called her, never Wippy.) "I saw the calculus quiz. Congratulations on the 95%..." She continued, "Although, I think that you should be very capable of a 100%. Maybe John can help make sure you are more prepared next time." Mrs. Black gave him a tight smile. The discussion continued like this. (For example: "I am proud of you that you are sticking with volleyball, even if you are going to stay on the bench all season.") When it came time to discuss John, he felt like he had just stepped into a courtroom. She quizzed him extensively on his performance at school. John answered honestly, flatly refusing to give any explanations of failure or success. After dinner, Wippy and John took care of the dishes. Her mother told them not to go to her room, so they sat out on the porch. Neither said anything for a long time. Eventually, John asked the question that had been bugging him. "I thought you said she's a hippy?" Wippy sighed. "I said that she was a hippy. That ended just after I was born and my dad left." She shivered. "We should go inside, if you're cold." He looked concerned. "Yeah, I guess. You should probably leave soon." "Are you sure?" "Yeah." They went inside, where Mrs. Black was watching TV. The news was showing a story about a school teacher who was fired because of a brief history working in porn. Wippy's mother was very emphatically agreeing with the decision. "After what's she done to herself, she shouldn't be able to teach... or have kids. It's disgusting." John left soon after with a bad feeling in his stomach. At least he understood Wippy a little better now. Chapter 12 - Killing the Blues After that evening, John could see a difference in Wippy. She was more affectionate with him, if a little slower to smile. It seemed to him like she started trying to find reasons to touch him. Sometimes it was just his arm, or his hand. At other times, she would run her fingers through his hair, almost absent-mindedly. Their dates became more serious. After a few of them, they even found isolated spots so that they could make out. On one particular evening, John found Wippy outside of her house sitting on the curb when he pulled up to get her. Her eyes were red. Neither discussed what had happened to upset her like that, but John had no doubt that her mother was the primary cause. There was nothing he could say He had planned a unique date for them, and hoped it would take her mind off of it. John had her follow him to the trunk of his car. When they reached it, he pulled out two pairs of roller-blades. "We're going to roller-blade down to this awesome food truck I know." Wippy was a little concerned. She had never tried roller-blades before. Fortunately, she was a natural and picked it immediately. John had used roller-blades before. He was not a natural. By the time they reached the food truck, John was wondering where he could go to clean the blood off of his scrapes. It was a little embarrassing just how much better at it than him Wippy already was. The embarrassment was worth it, though, to watch the smile she had on her face as she whizzed around. ***** After dinner, they ended up in the park. Wippy selected a bench that she thought would be private and sat down. She had to grab John as he careened past and pulled him onto her lap. As soon as he landed there, John gave a goofy sigh of contentment and snuggled up against her. "This just feels right, Dorothy." He cooed. (She wasn't sure which Dorothy he was connecting her to.) Wippy played along for about thirty seconds before telling him to get up. "Let's switch. You are way too heavy." A moment later, Wippy was on his lap cuddling against him, while he held her. They sat like that for a few minutes before she looked at him with a smile. "So, how did you know that I would be good at roller-blades?" "Uh... I sort of didn't..." "What? Then why did you..." She was confused. "I'll be honest, I saw them earlier today and bought them on an impulse. It didn't occur to me that you might not have ridden them before." "So you just got lucky?" Wippy asked. "Yes." "Well, good for you. And the food truck was good." "I know, sweetums. I love food trucks!" "Of course you do. You're such a hipster!" "I... I am no such thing!" His tone was indignant. Wippy traced a finger along his t-shirt that proudly stated '4th Grade Spelling Bee Champ'. "Oh really?" "Yeah... and yes, I was the fourth grade spelling champ!" "You were this size when you were in fourth grade?" He shrugged. "I didn't say the shirt wasn't new." John grinned at her. He continued, "Is dating a hipster... which I still deny... so bad?" She gave him a kiss. "Of course not. One of the things that I love about you is that you dance to your own tune." After that, they didn't do much talking while they kissed. After a little while, Wippy stopped them. "We need to quit. We're in public." She was breathing heavily. "It's alright. No one was ever hurt by a little innocent groping." She stood up on her skates and tried to pull him up. "Come on, let's go home." He stayed sitting. "OK, but you need to give me a minute." "Why?" Immediately after that, she glanced at his crotch and saw the reason. "Ohhhh...." Wippy had a cheeky smile on her face. Thanks to that, it ended up being several minutes before John could get up. He only fell twice on the way back. At least it was progress. Chapter 13 - I Love You, but Goodbye Later that week, John gave Wippy the exciting news. His parents were visiting his sister that weekend and he would have the house to himself. They were both nervous despite their anticipation. In the end, the two arranged that Wippy would come by Friday evening. John would make sure that there was food waiting for them. She was shocked when John opened the door. He was wearing a vest and tie. The colors all matched and the clothes even looked like they had been ironed. He looked good. After a hello kiss and a 'bonus round kiss' (something John had insisted was needed), she came in. When they reached the kitchen, Wippy saw a gigantic mess. She also saw the dinner that John had made. They had salmon with pecans, a salad with pecans, and a pecan pie. Evidently John had remembered that pecans were her favorite food. It all tasted terrible. The process of recovering from the taste of John's food took some time. "Holy crap on a stick! I am not cooking... anything... ever again." John was very emphatic as they tried to recover. "I... wouldn't... disagree." Wippy was speaking in bursts because she was trying to wash her mouth out underneath the kitchen tap. ***** Once their appetites recovered, the couple ate peanut butter sandwiches in companionable silence. Eventually, Wippy asked the question that had been bothering her. "Is your cooking always that bad? I mean... I love that you tried but..." She didn't even need to finish that statement. "I will be honest, I only ever cook one thing... breakfast foods. If you want bacon or breakfast potatoes, even hashbrowns, I'm your guy. Apparently, the skills do not carry over to other types of food." That set them off laughing. They couldn't help but see the humor in John's botched attempt at a romantic dinner. After resolving their hunger on simpler foods, John and Wippy retired to the family room where things began to get more intense. ***** She was straddling his lap, her hands gently pressed to his face as they kissed. John groaned into her mouth. It felt like the only thing preventing him from floating off was her weight on him. He was tentative, frightened of making the wrong move or appearing presumptuous by going too far. John lightly rested his hands on her hips, lightly stroking her. When they came up for breath, she grabbed his hands and pulled them up to her chest. Her small, but firm, tits felt heavenly in his hands. John pulled his head back and looked in her eyes. He seemed to stutter, starting to speak and stopping several times. The words he wanted to say seemed to be stuck in his mouth, unwilling to leap off his tongue. After several attempts, he settled for two simple words. "You're perfect." The air left the room. John found himself suddenly alone as Wippy stumbled off his lap and sprinted out of the room. After a moment of shock, he stood up and ran after her. She was already out the door and at her car, leaving her jacket on the rack inside the door. As he got near the car, John could hear her sobbing. "Wippy, what's happening?!! Did I do something wrong?" He couldn't hide the desperation in his voice as she seemed to struggle with her purse trying to find her keys. "Wippy, come back inside. Please." She didn't look up at him. She was she desperately digging through the bag, scattering contents onto the street around her. As he got closer, John realized that she was speaking softly through the sobs. Suddenly, she opened the door step into the car and turned the key in the ignition. A moment later, she was gone. John stood in the street, still as a statue. He had caught one phrase. "...I just can't..." It would be nearly six months before he heard her voice again. I hope you enjoyed it! As I said, this is the first of multiple parts (at least four). The next one has all the sex, so... This is one story that I intend to continue to work on, both in writing new sections and in improving the ones already written. Recommendations or comments are good. Be Kind, Please Rewind. Simple Song Pt. 02 Welcome back! This is the second part of my longer story that I have been working on. Part 01 did not contain any sex, but this one does. First fair warning: it's not right off the bat. These poor kids have to get in the mood, before they can get nude. I do think the sexy bits in this piece are by far the best I've written, but who knows. Second fair warning: if women with tattoos makes you upset you should be careful in reading this piece. Just try to substitute the word 'stickers' in for 'tattoos' in your head. (e.g., "Intrigued, he began to examine her other tattoos, moving her gently when needed to view one." becomes "Intrigued, he began to examine her other stickers, moving her gently when needed to view one.") We can assume that the stickers were peeled off later in a scene I forgot to write. A really sexy, sticker pulling scene... The beginning might be a little odd and I've tried some unconventional things to get into the head of someone with ADD. So if you don't like the style, it will become a little more toned down later on. Disclaimer: All characters who engage in slap and tickle are at least eighteen years old. All rights reserved. Chapter 14 - No Children The first three days, John spent desperately trying to find Wippy. He talked to her mother, to Sarah, to anyone who knew her. No one had anything to offer. He even went as far as checking the local emergency rooms for her. He couldn't track down a trace. The second three days, John barely left his room. In the end, the only thing that got him out of it was his mother threatening to fumigate the house with him in it. Even so, he barely reached the decision to leave instead of staying for the poison gas. John attended school that day with a full beard, he hadn't shaved in more than a week. He didn't pay attention in any of his classes and missed one when he simply didn't get up from lunch. When he finally did, the food in front of him hadn't been touched. ***** The next day's calculus class was the hardest. He could see her sitting in front of him. ... I just can't... Knee bounce... Toe tap... He could see her smile. She never knew how much he learned during those study sessions... ... I just can't... Knee bounce... Toe tap... "Mr. Samuels, I asked you a question..." ... I just can't... Knee bounce... Toe tap... Someone was in his face. "Mr. Samuels, if you are going to stay in my class you will pay attention. Perhaps it would be better if you went missing like your girlfriend." Mr. Nickolson had a sneer on his face. What saved the teacher was the fact that John was in his desk and it tripped him up when he went for the teacher. If he had managed to reach him, John didn't doubt that he would beat the crap out of the man. "YOU CONDESCENDING PIECE OF USELESS UNEMPLOYABLE GOATFUCKER SHIT! YOU HAD BETTER NOT MENTION HER AGAIN YOU BENT DICK COCKSUCKER!" The students were holding John's arms while Mr. Nickolson was cowering in the corner of the room. In the end, the only things that prevented him from being expelled were the facts that he hadn't actually hit the teacher and that Mr. Nickolson had knowingly provoked him. He still earned a lengthy suspension. His impromptu speech would remain as the gold standard for cussing in the school for a long time to come. ***** John spent the suspension in the house, refusing to leave his room. His mother eventually dragged John to the doctor's. The depression diagnosis wasn't hard to reach. John had been losing weight at an alarming rate and he barely spoke coherently. He was also told that he had ADD. They gave him prescriptions for ritalin and an antidepressant. He only filled the ritalin prescription, refusing the antidepressant. The drug perked him up enough that he was able to resume the only activity that he really wanted to pursue: finding Wippy. ***** He quickly became frantic in his methods. John spent time wherever he thought it was possible that she could be. Homeless shelters, halfway homes, hospitals, he spent time searching all of them. John went to the length of quizzing her mother extensively, as they reviewed pictures and held endless conversations. One outcome of the effort was a distinguishable change in attitude for Mrs. Black. She, at least, had learned her lesson from the ordeal. Whether she would be able to apply that lesson was another question. Through it all, John was skipping school; he simply stopped showing up at work. He had been dragged into the obsession like the detective in a bad noir film. It consumed him. ***** In the end, his parents and others were able to make him return to school. Even so, he would spend the day simply staring off into space. He failed every quiz, every test, and every homework. In fact, he was lucky that he even heard the clue when somebody mentioned it. He was sitting in History during summer school, staring at the wall like always. Knee bounce... Toe tap... Cracking knuckles... Was this how the families of amnesia patients felt? "...Industrial... child labor..." Knee bounce... Toe tap... Cracking knuckles... "Next week... late..." Knee bounce... Toe tap... Cracking knuckles... The class was over, but he didn't even realize it. "...about that volleyball slut?" That got his attention. "I heard one of my buddies say that he saw her stripping somewhere downtown. Pink Lady Tiger, or some crap like that. She wouldn't give him a lapdance." "Hey man, I like them with bigger boobs than that... you know?" "Whatever." Whoever was talking left the room. A stripclub downtown. ***** In the end, there were several stripclubs downtown that could have been the one. He started at the Lady Taco. That was a dead end, nobody seemed to recognize his picture of her, and the strippers all, without exception, had large implants. The second stripclub was the Pink Panther. He eventually found a dancer who recognized his picture of Wippy. Three private dances later, she gave him her address because he 'looked like a nice kid'. The $200 tip he gave her probably didn't hurt, either. Roxy (that was the stripper of course) did warn him to be prepared for a change. "She's a nice girl, but she's going to look different. OK, sweetie? You gotta be prepared." He drove to the address immediately, barely stopping at the red lights. Chapter 15 - Let Your Heart Hold Fast John's heart was in his throat. The neighborhood he walked through was distinctly unsafe, but he had failed to notice. It is possible that Air Force One could have crash landed onto the street next to him and he wouldn't have spared it a glance. This was the address: a sprawling, ramshackle motel. Now that he was here, John noticed the disreputable state of the area. A smell of urine, and worse, was everywhere. Four large men were out front, smoking and looking at him in a less than agreeable manner. This was the door, number 13. Long ago, it had been a bright green, but now the green paint was only visible in small strips on the grey wood of the rotting door. He knocked. And waited. How long he stood there, he couldn't say, before the locks started to clicks. One... Two... Three... Four... And then she was standing there in front of him. A series of events occurred rapidly as soon as the door opened. Wippy appeared to see him and froze briefly. Her mouth begin to move, although if she was saying something, it was too quietly for him to hear. Finally, she seemed to crumple in on herself and began to sway gently as if about to collapse. Fortunately, it broke him out of his trance and reaching out his arms, John wrapped her up in a tight hug and held her. She immediately began to sob. They stood there like that, John holding Wippy up in his arms in the open doorway, for a long time without any sound but her sobbing. When she began to stutter and attempt to speak, he leaned down a little further and whispered in her ear: "I'm here." John then picked her up and walked into the room, closing the door with his heel, as he looked around the room. The motel room was cramped and musty. Taking up the majority of the room was a small bed. He took two strides to it and sat down on the edge with her curled up in his lap, her head resting on his chest. He could feel the moisture seeping through his shirt almost immediately, but all he did was hold her with his arms motionlessly wrapped around her. They sat there like that for nearly an hour. A few times, Wippy tried to speak to him. It was clear that she was attempting to make an apology of some sort, although only a few words came out and many of them were inaudible. Whenever she began to speak John gave her a squeeze and simply said: "I'm here." She would go silent. Whatever she wanted to tell him, it wasn't important yet. He had found her again. Eventually, she began to relax and breathe normally. Unsure whether she had fallen asleep, he looked down at her face. She was gazing back at him with tears in her eyes, but what he saw surprised him. Wippy had lost weight. She was thin and painfully light in his arms. There were dark bags under her beautiful green eyes. He could see tattoos on her hands, feet, and above the neckline of her dress that hadn't been there previously. Her hair was gone. In place of the long, dark brown waves she had a short buzz cut. If possible, it made her appear even more vulnerable and hurting. John kissed the top of her head, then began to move back to stretch out on the bed with her in an attempt to answer his aching arms and back. Slowly, they inched back until they he was lying with his head on the pillow. As John began to settle himself, she broke free from his grasp suddenly. He started in alarm, but Wippy simply sat up straight for a moment and pulled her dress over her head. Lying back down in front of him in her bra and panties, she let John spoon her. Wippy pushed her body back into his, maximizing the contact, and drew one of his arms around her stomach and the other around her chest, pulling both to hold her as tightly as possible. Then she sighed. Thirty seconds later she was asleep. ***** In a couple of hours, Wippy woke up and they prepared to leave. The only thing that she brought with her when they left was her wallet. She didn't want any reminders of her time there. As soon as they arrived at his house, John took her up to his room and told her to get a shower if she wanted. They had not talked much on the way over. While she settled in, John went down to bring his mother up to date. The conversation took a while, and then he went upstairs to check on something in his bedroom. Chapter 16 - A Million Years "John!" HIs mother was shouting up the stairs to him, "John!" "Yeah?" "Is she still taking a shower? I can't get any hot water in the kitchen." "I don't know, Mom, I'll check." He looked at his watch. It had been more than an hour since they arrived. Terrible possibilities flashed through his head, and suddenly John was scrambling towards the bathroom door. Coming out of his room so panicked, he tripped on a suitcase in the doorway and fell, but was up and moving towards the bathroom before his wrist even began to hurt from the impact. Opening the door, with his eyes averted slightly, he called her name. The only response was the sound of the shower. He moved towards the curtain. This was as bad as when he was nine and convinced that the closet held a monster. Opening that door with the light off at night had nearly made his heart stop. When he opened the curtain, he breathed a sigh of relief, quickly followed by an expression of concern. She was lying in a fetal position in the end of tub with the water raining down on her, continuously. Without a second thought, John stepped into the tub and knelt over her. The water was ice cold. She was sobbing silently. John reached back to the faucet and turned off the water, then sat down in the tub and once again collected her in his arms just as he had done at the motel. After a few minutes, the sobbing slowed and when it did, he could feel her shivering. There was no way to know how long the hot water had been gone. He was soaked through his clothes, from head down to his shoes. Knowing that he was probably doing more to hurt than help with the shivering, John stood up quickly and stepped out of the tub. He stripped down to his skin and quickly toweled himself off, finishing by wrapping the towel around his waist. "Wippy, get up please. I'll dry you off." His voice was as gentle as he could make it. He pulled insistently up on her elbow. "Get up. You're freezing." She straightened, slowly, and stepped out of the tub to stand before him, naked. Wippy didn't move while he toweled her off like he would a child. He had never seen her naked before, but even so the change was obvious. Her ribs were visible. He could see that her pubic area was shaved. There were razor burn, shaving nicks, and cuts visible. She continued to shiver after he was finished drying her, so John wrapped the towel around her and then picked her up. He didn't know what else to do. She obviously was freezing, but she neither spoke nor looked him in the eye. He needed to warm her up and he also needed to keep an eye on her. John carried Wippy into his bedroom and lay her on the bed before covering her with a blanket. Removing his own towel, he pulled on a pair of boxers, then climbed into bed behind her and wrapped his arms tightly around her, imitating how she had previously seemed to want him to in the motel. Slowly, her breath began to slow down and he could feel her skin begin to warm up in his arms. Another sigh of relief. Finally at peace, John drifted to sleep. ***** When John woke, his arms were sore, but for the first time that he could remember, he felt happy at the moment that he came awake. Looking down on the girl in his arms, he marvelled at the smile on her face as she slept. Wippy had rolled onto her back while she slept and now had her face turned towards him on the pillow. Staring at her face, he recognized something that he had not seen before. Down the cheekbone from the outer edges of her eye, she had tear drop tattoos in white ink, three to a side. Invisible in most situations, in the bright morning sun they made it appear that she had been crying and so the tear stains were still visible. Intrigued, he began to examine her other tattoos, moving her gently when needed to view one. On the inside of her left wrist, the words 'First Love' were visible in script. On her right wrist, 'Last Love'. Along the hairline from her left ear to the back of her neck, the words 'The heart has its reasons which reason knows not' were written. On the right side of her graceful neck, he could see an endless knot in green ink. Glancing further down, on her left breast, just above the nipple was "JACK" in large letters. (He stopped breathing for a moment when he saw that one.) Wrapped around her left leg, from the top of her foot up to her hip and covering part of her back was an elaborate tattoo of a flowering vine in green and red. A few inches above and to the right of her cunt, he could see a small lock tattooed. Finally, along the first knuckles of her fingers, positioned so that she could read them if she held her hands up to her face, palms out, were the words "HOLD FAST". Not knowing why, John began to lightly trace his fingers along her tattoos, following the patterns with his fingers. After a few moments, she began to stir and wake up. Opening up her eyes, she stared at him as he continued to trace the art on her body. "John, I'm sorry. I know that I'm not what you fantasized about anymore." He continued to trace her tattoos, even rolling her over on to her stomach so that he could trace the ivy on her back. "John, I know that you liked how I looked before. Before... before the tattoos, and before I got so skinny." Her voice was quiet. He continued to trace the tattoos with his fingers, as he began to kiss and caress another tattoo with lips. She started to rise, and he finally spoke. "Wippy, do you remember what I told you the first thing I noticed about you was?" He did not stop tracing. "My ass?" Her voice was tentative, with more than a note of desperation. "Yes... I was a fool. It doesn't matter what you wear, or how you appear. Your significance has nothing to do with those minor details. When I think of your smile, I feel as if I can't breathe. When I go to sleep, I wish to God that it was with you whispering in my ear, and when I wake up and find myself alone, without you, I wonder why I should bother." Leaning over, he nuzzled the back of her neck gently. He spoke softly, asking her, "When you arrived, did you wonder why my Mom let you stay, and sleep in my room?" "Yes." They were whispering now. "When you left, it was difficult. I failed my classes, even though I had A's up until then. I was depressed, unable to focus on anything but finding you. And then, I was unable to focus on anything at all. "When my Mom dragged me to the doctor they diagnosed me with depression... not exactly the most challenging diagnosis they've ever made. They also told me that I struggle with ADD. It's why my grades never match up to expectations and why I've never stuck with anything for more than 6 months. "So when I brought you in, I told my Mom that you were someone who had suffered some significant trauma in her past." He paused to kiss the back of her neck. "And I told her that you were the reason that I succeeded early last semester and that you leaving was the reason that I failed in the end. "So I never want to hear you tell me that you think I love you for your ass or your tits or your skin... although there is always something to be said for that ass." Just like that, it seemed that a switch has been flipped. Scooting off the bed, he turned and gave her a playful smack on the bare butt before striding towards the door. "I am going to take a shower and then make you some breakfast, missy. The only ribs I want to see are covered in barbecue and I think that might be too kinky, even for you." He strode out of the room. Lying on her stomach, Wippy seemed to finally exhale, as if she had been unable to breathe the whole time John was talking. She slumped down on the bed; all the tension leaving her body in one rush. She was smiling, but the pillow beneath her face was being soaked through by tears. Chapter 17 - Suicide Girl Pausing in the task of preparing an omelet, John saw her standing in the kitchen doorway, wrapped in a towel. He flashed her a grin, "Hey Toots, I'm making breakfast. Tell me, would you like some omelet with your cheese?" She had something else on her mind. "I don't have anything to wear. We left all of my clothes back in the motel, but I wouldn't want to wear any of them now anyways." He paused for a moment, uncertain, then responded, "My parents left on vacation this morning. They will be gone all week so there really isn't a dress code. Feel free to look through my closet and pick anything you like. You are free to all of my sartorial splendor." He turned back to his omelets. A few minutes later, Wippy came down the stairs. She was wearing one of his flannel shirts with the sleeves rolled up. It was tightly buttoned;, she was obviously aware of just how roomy it was on her and the effect that would have on the neckline. When she sat down, he saw that she was wearing a pair of his briefs with the waistband rolled up a number of times so that they would stay up. He was speechless. Without being able to stop the thought, he wondered how someone so could look so vulnerable and yet so fuckable at the same time. He dismissed the thought as quickly as he could. Simple Song Pt. 02 ***** On Saturday, with the week about to end, her concern had reached a peak. She could feel his eyes on her from time to time, but he had not done anything overt to express his interest like he had before she left. Her head was buzzing. After all, it wasn't a surprise that he didn't want her anymore. She had hurt him and then when he found her she had already ruined her looks. Her eyes were drawn to her fingers where the 'HOLD FAST' tattoo could be seen. Tears began to spring up. Of course he didn't want her anymore. Hesitantly, Wippy walked into the living room where he was sitting on the couch reading. He glanced up at her as she came into the room before his attention went back to the book. She was in her most daring outfit yet, wearing only her panties under one of his wifebeater tank tops. She wasn't even worth his attention dressed like this! "I'm sorry you don't find me attractive anymore, John." Her voice was a whisper. "What?" "I know you told me that you still care for me, but you hardly looked at me just now. I know that you preferred me before I ruined my looks." "Is that what you think?" "Of course..." She gave a little sob, although she had promised herself before that she wouldn't. Her hands came up to her face. Then he was grabbing her hand pulling her back onto him, almost roughly. She found herself sitting on his lap, with her back to him. After a moment of struggling, she realized that something was poking into her from below. There was a sharp intake of breath. "Is that..." "Yeah, that is my John Paul Jones, and he has been saluting you all week." "But why haven't you... you know... done something about it... or asked me?" He leaned his mouth up by her ear. "Because I am not an animal. I don't take advantage of people who are in pain." His voice was breathy as he struggled to handle the effects of her movement over his erection. If he could have seen her smile, he would have been awe of the pure happiness visible. It was followed quickly by an expression of pain and grief, which itself was rapidly succeeded by a look of determination. She lept up and turned to face him, her green eyes locking on his hazel ones. "I have something to tell you. Come upstairs." Grasping his hand, Wippy pulled him up and led him up the stairs into his room. Turning him around, she pushed him insistently on to his bed. His bed where she felt so warm and safe. His bed where she felt at peace. Indicating that he should sit with his back to the wall, she crawled in between his legs and sat leaning into him, with her back against his chest. John wrapped his arms around her without being asked. She sat staring forward, if she had to look into his face while she told him this Wippy did not think she would be able to, even here on his bed. His bed where she felt so safe. "Jack," She could actually feel his chest expand as she called him that, "I need to tell you some things." Stopping often to breathe in between the words and the tears, or to form words to explain herself, Wippy began to haltingly tell him about the last six months. She started with her confused reaction, which she still didn't understand, when he had told her she was perfect. She tried to describe the terror and feelings of inadequacy, followed by inexplicable anger at him. Then she described running away from home, trying to find jobs at restaurants as she ran out of money. Wippy told him about the weekly apartment that she had rented and then lost before she found herself broke and hopeless. "So I did the only thing that I could think of. I couldn't come back here because you, and my Mom, would be so mad at me. I... I got a job at a strip club. I had to do things to get the job that..." She expected him to push her away in disgust or to express his disapproval. All she could feel was that he had tightened his arms around her. "I wasn't very good at it. That's why you found me in some rundown motel. It wasn't because of drugs, I just couldn't stand to give lap dances so I avoided it as much as possible. Oh, and my tits are tiny..." It was a whisper in her ear again, "They're perfect." "Some of the girls had tattoos, so I thought about getting one. I ended up selecting this one." She pointed to the "Last Love" on her right wrist. "I thought it would make me feel more honest, to prove forever that I wasn't the flawless girl that you seemed to think I was. And it hurt. But that was good, it felt like it was a punishment for what I did to you... for what I did to myself. "I liked the pain, so I kept getting them. "All I ever did was fantasize about you coming to find me. But that was also the thing that terrified me the most. "I hated working at the club. That's why I cut my hair, I didn't want them watching me anymore. I thought it would make them stop." Neither of them spoke for a while. Finally, he filled the silence. "This summer... this summer was the worst time of my life. I knew that you were hurting somewhere, and I couldn't be there for you. "I lost my mind for a while there." He continued, "Don't do that to me again. Stay with me... you can... I mean... look, you feel whatever you need to feel. Say what you need to say. Just don't run from me again." Another long pause. "So what happens next?" "We clean my room again." "You mean that I clean your room again?" She had a smile while she said that. "I seem to recall you volunteering.... against my preferences." He continued, "And if God wanted me to clean my room, smartypants, I would have been born with a vacuum cleaner attachment." She wiggled back into him. "Knowing you guys, I doubt it would ever be used for cleaning..." She couldn't help but giggle as she said it. "That's hurtful! It's completely fair, but it's hurtful." "So what actually happens next?" "You stay with me and warm my bed. We get ready for school to start again. I, personally, would like to stick to a three-semester senior year." "What about your parents? Oh, and I hadn't thought about school! Will they even accept me back?" "First, I've already talked to my parents. They sort of understand what's going on. I was told: 'Just don't go rubbing all of the sex in our faces', so yeah..." "Wait, you mean we could have been having all of that sex? I knew something was missing!" "Damn! You're right, miss piggy..." That earned him an elbow. John continued, "As for school, I did something that I would term as... ummm... moral but unethical? "My uncle is a doctor. I sort of... you know... bugged him until he wrote a letter. He admitted that there was no doubt that you had some kind of breakdown, his only concern was that he couldn't see you himself." "Wait, so I didn't fail last semester?" "Not even a little. Your record should be clear, with just a medical leave of absence. "We should still take you by my uncle so that he can see you in person. I just need you to do me a favor." "What?" His voice was lowered. "Well, really sell the psychological stuff. You know... like, drool a lot. And maybe limp... oh, and only speak in the third person." Wippy twisted around to look him in the face. Of course, he had that goofy smile on. That earned him another elbow. "But seriously, after the last few months that you've had, seeing my uncle would probably be good." "OK. One last question." "Yes, I named it John Paul Jones." She laughed. "No... What am I going to do about clothes? "But also, seriously, John Paul Jones?" "Why not John Paul Jones? For most patriots, it's their chief aim in life to have people name genitals after them. That's what you call a real legacy. "And as for clothes, my sister will be back soon. She won't be around for long, but I think you can borrow some for her until we get you your own." "How am I going to afford that?" "Your sugar daddy." An awkward pause followed. "It's me! Wait, do you have another sugar daddy? What's his name? I bet it's Glenn. Douchebags are nearly always named Glenn... or Seth... "But seriously, I've got some money from my jobs. Right now I couldn't think of anything better to spend it on than you. This might go straight to your head, but you are a better investment than pinball machine, which was the other thing I was considering." "You sure know how to make a girl feel special." Chapter 18 - Days Come and Go John's sister actually arrived the next day, a few hours before his parents came back. That was a relief to Wippy, she would be able to be decently clothed when she saw them again. His sister, Susan (but Susie to her friends), was a revelation. She was a little shorter than Wippy, and a little curvier, and she was intense. Wippy would eventually realize that she was probably what John would be like if he didn't have ADD. Susan was actually a little frightening. The first that Wippy was aware that Susan was in the house, was late in the morning, when she woke up. Wippy came downstairs to find John and his sister having a quiet conversation by the table. Susan immediately walked up to Wippy and gave her a long hug. When it was over, Susan leaned back and looked her in the eyes. Susan's eyes looked frighteningly like John's. "You're going to be alright. I can tell that you're tougher than you give yourself credit for." Wippy started to speak, uncertain what she was going to say. "And yes, you can borrow my clothes. I need to leave in a couple of days, but we'll find a few outfits for you." Before Wippy could respond, Susan was already out the door to bring in her bags. ***** The change in clothing highlighted Wippy's recent changes for John. She already appeared to have put on some weight and the bags were gone from under her eyes. Even so, she wasn't still wasn't smiling as often as he would like. The outfits did look a little odd on Wippy, they were a little short and a little baggy for her. Even so, her relief at having real clothes again was obvious. For his part, John kept imagining her in one of his shirts and a pair of rolled up briefs. He would miss her like that. Susan quickly commented that Wippy's hair would look very good in a pixie cut before long. It was apparent that she had adopted Wippy as a little sister. ***** After that, the next few weeks passed fairly uneventfully. Wippy continued to recuperate as the school year approached. John's parents were warm with her, but they kept their distance as if afraid of hurting her. The only thing of note to happen to Wippy during that time was the conversation she overheard between John and Susan, as she lay on his bedroom floor. They were in Susan's room, but the door wasn't fully closed. She heard Susan express her concern. "John, she's a wonderful girl and she's better than you deserve but I'm concerned." "Why's that?" He sounded defensive. Wippy could feel herself clinch up a little. She evidently felt the same thing that he did. "I see the potential for a lot of codependency here. You've got to be really careful." "Oh, is that all?" "This is serious." "Let me tell you something, Susie. We've both proven that we're royal fuck-ups on our own. She's a self-loathing overachiever," (Wippy couldn't be mad, that was actually fair.) "And I'm even worse. I'm just an anti-social drifter. "If we're better together, than I say bring on the codependency!" "John..." "I've heard enough." Wippy didn't know what to think. Chapter 19 - Awake My Body The week before school started, the two of them were eating breakfast, when he suddenly blurted it out. "We need to buy you some clothes." She was caught off guard and just looked at him. "You can't wear my sister's clothes forever. Don't you... umm... want new ones? New clothes or outfits or whatever?" Wippy responded slowly, "Of course, but I don't have the money to buy anything." He gave a grin at that, as if to ask if that was the only problem. "Oh, I'll pay of course." "I can't ask you to do that." "You didn't, and well I have a... you see... umm... I have this fantasy." He could see the apprehension in her eyes, this was the first that either of them had spoken about fantasies, or presumably, sexual preferences. The look just made him more nervous. "Sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it." She was calming down. Wippy really did want to know about his fantasies. She gave him her best supportive look. "Please tell me." "Well... I have this fantasy where I help you pick out your clothes and maybe some of the time... I help you put them on... or take them off?" His grin was back, albeit a shy one. She exhaled a little, then looked back at him. Her eyes were gentle as she held his gaze. "That would be nice." ***** In the first store, Wippy walked out of the dressing room apprehensively. Although her stomach was twisting in knots, she knew that John wanted this. He had apparently even fantasized about it! Coming to a stop in front of where he was sitting, she nervously stood there, waiting for his response. She was wearing a tight pair of jeans (of the "she was poured into them" variety) that she had picked along with a green and white fitted polo that he had picked out. It just grazed the top of her jeans, so that when she stretched, bent over, or otherwise moved, a little skin would show. She didn't understand the look he gave her, which frightened her even more. It was surprisingly intense. After looking her over for what felt like an hour, but was probably only 10 seconds, John got up and walked slowly up to Wippy. Still waiting for his response, she was frozen like a deer in headlights. He reached behind her neck with his hand... and tore the tag off of the shirt. Doing the same with the tag on the jeans, he grabbed her and gave her a momentary but intense kiss. Immediately after that, John turned around and walked quickly to the front of the store. Wippy followed him, still unsure of what was happening. He strode up to the counter, slapped the tags down and emphatically said, "I would like to pay for these. She will be wearing the clothes out." He turned to her with a huge grin, which she couldn't help but return. She wouldn't have wanted to help it anyways. After that, the day began to acquire a pleasant rhythm for her. Wippy would select clothes to try while they talked about anything and everything. Women's fashion, history, sports, and movies, their conversations covered a wide gambit. On a few occasions, John would pick an article of clothing for her to try. She would try the outfits on while he waited and then she would emerge for him to give input. The nervousness and fear that she felt as she emerged for him to look at her slowly became anticipation. When he gazed at her, she felt tingles going down her spine. She did not fully realize it, but the anticipation she felt building was the result of a newly budding trust. John would always respond to the outfit in one of two ways. Most of the time he would give a glowing, but pointed compliment, the tone of which depended on whether they had an audience at that moment ("That makes your eyes pop, sweetie, I think you would look great in it with a long skirt." with an audience versus "Those shorts make your legs look perfectly sinful, sugar tits." without). If he didn't seem to like what she was trying, and she had feared how he would respond then and whether he would lie to her, John would tell her so. He made her feel like the clothes he didn't like simply weren't worthy of her, that they hid too much of her beauty when all he wanted to do was to accentuate it. Needless to say, she was beginning to feel desirable in a way that she never had before. She learned a few things about his tastes. He preferred form fitting items to items that could be described as high cut or low cut. He loved to see her in green, the closer to the color of her eyes the better. Not surprisingly, his tastes ran towards the Bohemian and he seemed to favor odd combinations and vintage or worn styles. Wippy also learned that he did not seem to care at all about shoes. While they shoe shopped he appeared bored and only really focused when she engaged him in conversation. The one fact she did glean was that he wasn't fond of high heels but liked seeing her in ballet flats. She bought four pairs of them. Towards the end of the day, they were both beginning to feel the effects of the day. In less busy stores, he began sneaking into the fitting room with her. They stayed quiet, to try to avoid being caught, so he would limit himself to stroking her skin and whispering to her. Most of the time she couldn't even make out the words he was saying, they were so softly spoken, but it still made her shiver. She felt like she had been drinking wine all afternoon. In one of the last stores, Wippy took advantage of a moment when they were totally alone as she modeled an outfit for him, to lean down and put her mouth by his ear. In a low whisper she told him, "Jack, when you look at me like that, it makes me wet." She was not lying. John had no response. ***** Finally at the end of the day, just after dinner time, Wippy acted on an impulse that she had been fighting for a while and dragged him into a lingerie store. It was hard not to giggle when she saw how uncomfortable he looked. She pushed him into a back corner of the store, where she hoped he would be more at ease. More importantly, the location made it impossible for him to escape. Wippy began to quiz him on his preferences in lingerie. She didn't even let him off the hook after he made her laugh out loud. He told her that he had no preferences in lingerie because he only had the one set and it chafed him when he had to wear it. The quizzing took close to an hour once she learned that she need to make excursions to pick out examples of styles and fabrics. Then she would describe them and force him to look at the photos on the tags to understand how they fit. She learned that he liked her in boy shorts, the more cheek showing, the better. His tastes ran to cotton with simpler patterns and cuts. She smiled at him as widely as she could while they had the conversation. She wanted to encourage him. She was not aware of this, but her smile had as profound an impact on him as his whispering had on her. Upper brain functions started to slow, a condition that is always dangerous, so when she asked him about bras he made the mistake. "Your breasts are perfect, honey buns, and I don't actually like padded bras even though you might need one..." He froze. The tone of her next question did not help make him more at ease. "John, why do I need a padded bra? Silence. "John, why did you say that I need a padded bra?" It was too late now, he owed her the truth... if he could force it out. "Well you see... umm... okay, so you have such perfect nipples, but..." That was far as he got, before her hands went up to cover her breasts. She was horrified and blushing deeply. John put his arms around her and pulled her closer. "It's sexy. It's only noticeable when I have been staring at you, or when we've been talking." He gripped her tighter and gave a little chuckle. "Actually... it's very flattering, little miss headlights. The only reason I mentioned the padded bra was because I didn't want to share you with anyone else... "Well, there was one other reason. When you smile at me, I get dizzy. I should not be held accountable for any stupid shit I do or say when your dimples are visible." She relaxed in his arms before stepping away from him to tell him to wait outside the store. He could see the tears in her eyes and didn't know what to do. "Wippy, I'm so sorry. I'm a..." "Jack, these are good tears. Now go wait outside. I can't spoil all the surprises. Simple Song Pt. 02 "Oh and give me your credit card." She gave him another grin. She was surprised at how quickly the card came out of his wallet. Chapter 20 - Lover's Day Stepping into the car after loading the last bag, John gave a sigh of relief. He was exhausted. It wasn't for the normal reasons that men are exhausted after shopping with their girlfriends. He honestly felt like he could stare at Wippy until kingdom come and still think he needed more time to take in her beauty. He was exhausted because of all the words. Every time he saw her in a new outfit, John would catch his breath. That made forming his response into words so much more difficult, and John was never particularly comfortable with talking anyways. His thoughts and desires would swirl in his head so quickly when he looked at her that forming them into spoken word felt impossible. He also knew that the verbal praise was so very vital to Wippy. She needed to hear someone else tell her how beautiful she was, in order to help her fight the voices in her own head that were telling her otherwise. She also needed to learn to anticipate loving words from him, rather than fearing rejection and scorn. Those facts were probably the only thing that kept him sane all day. John had never been so keyed up. To be frank, he had also never felt so horny. When she climbed into the car and immediately attacked him with a vicious kiss, he realized with surprise that she was in the same condition. She also apparently felt like they had just completed ten hours of foreplay. He broke the kiss. "Do you want to..." "Yes... but where?" Luckily, the mall had an adjacent hotel. The quarter mile that John traveled to reach it was probably as far he could have safely driven at that time. They checked in, attached at the hip like Siamese twins, and John put the $120 bill on his Visa. As soon as the elevator doors closed on them, he found Wippy clinging to him, kissing him with her arms around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist. The kiss lasted the whole ten story elevator ride. When the elevator doors opened, she wouldn't let go, so John carried her to their door. It took him several minutes to successfully open the door, probably because she was still kissing him and also because one of his hands had decided to grab her on the ass and would not seem to let go. Stepping inside the room, he leaned her back against a wall, and broke the kiss again. This time he needed a moment to catch his wind. John could feel her hot breath on his neck as she recovered also. "Sweetness, I don't have any..." "It's alright, Jack, I'm on the pill." Armed with that knowledge, John straightened up long enough to carry her over to the bed. Dropping her on it, he wished he had a camera ready to take a photo of her lying on the bed, looking up at him with her green eyes glazed over with love and lust. He wouldn't have had enough time to take a photo anyways, because Wippy quickly grabbed him and pulled him down onto the bed with her. They kissed for a few minutes more before she started to tug up on his shirt. Separating, they quickly stripped. The couple did suffer a slight delay when John was hypnotized by the sight of her wriggling out of her jeans. They started kissing again, except this time his cock was rubbing up against her as their bodies intertwined. Looking at her in between kisses, Wippy's arousal was obvious from the blush on her chest and neck as well as the slight heat he could feel radiating from between her legs. The only evidence needed of his arousal was the wetness spreading between their bodies where his cock was sandwiched. Pausing again, he looked into her eyes. "Kitty, I won't be able to last very long, maybe I should..." Wippy interrupted him in a soft voice, her eyes were gentle. "Jack, it's alright. I want you to be a part of me. There will be more chances for this, so there's no pressure. As long as you are inside me, that will be enough." With that, she reached between them. Pulling him forward, on top of her, she started to guide him towards her opening. As the head of his cock parted her lips, he felt a slight resistance that stretched aside quickly, and immediately after it he could feel the contact with her vaginal walls. John could not help but give a confused look, although his attention was immediately pulled away. She was tight, but very wet. It took some time, and a number of gentle strokes, before he was fully inside her. The sensation felt like nothing he had ever imagined. The texture, moisture, and heat would have been indescribable, even to a more coherent man. John tried to tell he loved her, but only thing that came out of his mouth was a moan. At least, he thought he moaned, it could also have come from her. He settled for a kiss. As his tongue entered her mouth, he reached the cliff... and then fell off it. He immediately started to cum inside of her. This was the first orgasm John experienced where he was literally blinded. He slowly slumped down beside his lover. As he held her, John could hear Wippy say, "Jacky, I love having a part of you inside me. Who knew that love would be so sticky?" She giggled as he smiled with her. His reply was drawled sleepily in her ear as he lost consciousness. "You're perfect." This time she didn't struggle. Instead she gave a sleepy smile and cuddled back against him. It was the last thing either of them remembered. ***** They woke up a few hours later. As he regained consciousness, John realized that she had shifted and was lying with her chest against his while she leaned on her arms and stared at his face. She had a soft smile; he had never seen someone look so contented. After a few minutes the smiled widened and then she spoke. "Jack, we spent all day buying a carload of clothes but I have nothing to wear. We forgot to bring any of it up." She laughed and he could not help but join her. After a few minutes more of cuddling, they got up to void their bladders while he ordered room service. It had been nine or ten hours since either had eaten. The wait time for the food was spent getting dressed so that they could safely answer the door. It took all thirty minutes because John insisted on watching Wippy dress. He then told her that she was putting her panties on wrong and she needed to take them off and put them on a hundred more times for practice. Of course, then she was doing it too quickly and he needed to instruct her in how to do it more slowly, which apparently required some hands on assistance. This game was still going on when they heard the knock on the door. It struck them that they would need to answer it, despite the fact that the only thing she had on was her panties and he had a rather violent erection. The task still fell to John, so the room service waiter ended up waiting at the door until the argument was settled and John had a chance to tuck his penis up into his waistband. They ate quickly, discussing whether they could have saved the tip if she had been the one to answer the door instead. John followed that playful fight up by starting a conversation on the difficulty small restaurants have just staying in business. At least Wippy was used to the non sequiturs by now. After dinner, John insisted that they both strip again. He walked into the bathroom to do so. A few minutes later, John emerged naked, but with something in his hand. When he reached her, John opened his hand to show her a small gold pendant. It appeared to be made from an ancient coin. On one side of it was the slightly worn face of some Caesar. On the other side was an image of a chariot. Wippy looked at it, waiting for an explanation. He seemed to be having difficulty selecting the words to explain it. John proceeded to describe, slowly, a family trip to Italy. He had loved Rome and decided on the spot that he would someday have his honeymoon there. The coin was the token he bought to remind himself. Over the years, he explained, it became a symbol for him, a promise that he would not always be alone. He finished by saying, "It is yours now. It's not a symbol of my future hope anymore. It's a..." That was where he ran out of words. Wippy had tears in her eyes, but proceeded to vigorously thank him in a manner that made wearing anything more than the pendant superfluous. ***** Lying on the bed, as they caught their breath afterwards, John looked over at her. "When I first entered you, I thought I felt something. It wasn't there the second time. Was that your...? I mean, was it your... hymen? I thought while you were at the strip club you...?" She was snuggled up tightly to him at this point, but she seemed to burrow even further. Her voice was quiet enough that he had to hold his breath to hear her. "I did some things that I hated to get that job, but I drew a line. At one point, the manager offered me a chance to work this rich guy's party where I would make a lot of money, but I would need to fuck at least one of the guests. As much as I hated myself and feared what I did to you, I would fantasize about you finding me and bringing me back home. If I crossed that line, I didn't think that I would even have the right to that fantasy anymore. That was when I went to have JACK tattooed on my tit." They lay there together, silently. He was struggling not to tell her that he would have forgiven her anything. He thought it wasn't the right time to tell her that. She was crying quietly to herself because she knew it already, his question had made that obvious. They drifted off together and slept as only exhausted teenagers can. Chapter 21 - Thanks for the Boogie Ride John woke up the next morning with Wippy in his arms, still wearing the pendant. She was facing towards him, staring him in the eyes. He decided immediately that the stare was a little intense, but he could definitely stand to wake up to those green eyes every morning. He yawned. "Good morning, beautiful." "Jack, I have a question. What do you feel when you hold me in your arms?" "Well... a little sweaty, I suppose, but I don't mind..." She interrupted him, "That's not what I meant." Wippy wriggled a little closer. She continued, "When you hold me, I feel safe and I feel desired." "Oh, in that case I may need to do some testing." He pulled her tighter and then rolled over. She ended up draped across his front, with her chest resting on his. "Well... I don't know if I have the words to describe it as beautifully as you do. I feel... I feel purpose. No, that's not quite right... I feel needed. It's like my brain needs my body to tell it that there is a reason to get up in the morning and accomplish something... even if it's just making you smile for me one more time. "And I feel loved... No, that doesn't describe it... I feel un-lonely? Dunno if that is a word, but that's the feeling, like I'm not alone any more. I have someone to share it with. Sometimes I forget that, or don't feel it, but when I'm holding you it washes over me." She stretched out and gave him a long, passionate kiss. He followed the kiss, immediately, by swinging up from the bed into a standing position, holding her in his arms. "Now I have a problem to solve today. We are going to figure out how to get you off. To do that, we are going to need a shower and some breakfast. I am fairly certain that you can't climax while you are hungry or while I smell like this." He put her down. "Jack, I don't know if it can happen. I've never actually had an orgasm." "Good! Than it will be an unexpected surprise for you when it happens. I'm going to shower... You coming?" ***** The dynamic duo took advantage of a late checkout to do some more exploring. Wippy's first revelation was that she did not enjoy being fingered. His extensive research into professional sex via the audiovisual medium (porn) made this difficult for John to believe. When he expressed that thought, Wippy laughed. "Well you see, Jack, that's why I never made it pro. I'm not a five-tool player." John was stunned into silence. Not because she disliked being fingered, or that she had just compared porn to professional ball, he just couldn't believe that she knew what a five-tool player was. Did she watch baseball? After that, he spent some time exploring her tits. While she was a little disappointed by them, John couldn't have been happier. In his eyes, and he very awkwardly conveyed this to her, she had a pair of perfectly sized, champagne glass tits. The nipples responded to both his fingers and his mouth. She slowly started to become aroused by this treatment, her chest and face flushed. However, after an extended period of time Wippy had to push him off of her, because it was obvious that it wasn't going to make her orgasm. Just as importantly, her twins were both starting to get a little raw. They waited a few minutes. Then John put on his announcer voice then. "And now, today's final feat. You know it, you love it, and sometimes you even lick it. Ladies and gentleman, the Big C... It's cun... ning... ling...us!" Wippy was on her back laughing hysterically. She had to push him away from her cunt when he ducked his head down there, until she had a chance to breathe. Once he got going, she couldn't help but enjoy the warmth and wetness of his, albeit ignorant, mouth. John tried a number of strokes and angles. He even found her clit and tried all sorts of things with it, some of which she had to tell him not to try again. A few times, he would give a little jerk. Finally, after another jerk, he gave a little laugh. She was confused. "Jack, what's funny?" "Oh, it's nothing, the stubble just tickles a little is all." She stared at him with a blank look. And then the look turned into a frantic expression. "Oh god! I haven't shaved in like... in..." He was surprised at the ashamed look on her face. He sometimes forgot that she could be a little fragile. "Flower power, there's nothing to be ashamed of... I kind of like it. Actually, I don't know what my preference would be if I had a choice. You probably shouldn't let me choose." He paused. "Why was I talking about that? You never asked me to give you my preference... but right now, I would choose stubbly because it would mean that nothing would change about this moment. I wouldn't tweak a thing... "Except maybe my choice of breakfast. Who in the hell would have called those limp pieces of... driftwood... french toast. I just..." She finally stopped him. "Jack, you're getting distracted. Anyways, I will do something with it when we get home. And yes, I will let you pick." "Hmmm... if I pick, will you also make me help execute my decision?" "No." He grinned. "What if I asked to?" "We'll have to see how you do through the planning stage, I guess." It was her turn to give a mischievous smile. By now they were sitting next to each other on the bed. He gestured downwards. "So should I try again..." "No. It felt good, and it got the engine running a little, but I don't think it was getting me too much closer." "Damn!" "Did I hear you call me 'flower power'?" He chuckled, then assumed a fake girl's voice. "My vagina is a flower..." That set off a few minutes more of laughter. Chapter 22 - Keep Yourself Warm Out of respect to John's parents, the two refrained from sex while his parents were home. The next time they had an opportunity was a few days later. This time, John took his time licking and nibbling her tits. He also made an awkward attempt at licking her cunt, before she pulled him up, telling him that she needed him inside of her. John slowly worked his way up, kissing her body as he went. He entered her slowly. Before long, the sensation of being inside Wippy was intense for John. He knew that he was going to cum too quickly for her to have any hope of finishing. In desperation, he remembered a trick he had heard friends talk about. He just needed to think about something else. Pirates baseball... Old men on the beach... John could feel her grip him somehow. It intensified the situation. McDonald's hamburgers... Aunt Gertrude in the bath... Wippy was touching his face, calling his name. How long had she been doing that? "Jack, come back to me... Jack?" His attention returned to her. She was looking in his eyes with... something. He couldn't interpret the look. "John, stay with me." "I was just..." They were both speaking slowly, recovering their breath. "I know. Don't." She continued, "I would rather have you with me, than gain three more minutes with your body while you are gone." He felt defeated. "But, I wanted to... You haven't..." She gave him that smile. He could actually feel himself harden even more inside of her, at the sight of those dimples. "Jack, I can be patient with my orgasm. Can you? "It will come." She giggled. A sigh. "Yes." The smile was still there, while Wippy wrapped her arms around him tighter. "Good, than make love to ME." Chapter 23 - The Infanta It was about a week later that they cracked the code. Wippy knew that John was starting to become frustrated with his lack of success bringing her to climax. For her part, Wippy was much more at peace. She enjoyed the sensations as they fucked, even without an orgasm; she had never felt so close to him before. That morning, John had to be somewhere early, before she was up. When she awoke, Wippy found a breakfast tray on the bedside table. Even leaving early, he had given her breakfast in bed! She was touched by the gesture, enough that she cried a little, before wolfing the food down. Wippy may not have noticed, but her appetite was far better when she spent time with John. She decided that she would do something for him. It wouldn't be breakfast in bed, but she thought she could think of something else to do in bed. Luckily, his parents were gone for a two day trip. When he arrived back that afternoon, John found her waiting at the door for him, wearing some sort of lingerie. He wasn't an expert, nor did she give him much time to admire, but its description probably included the words 'thong' and 'see through'. She dragged John up to his bedroom and quickly got both of them undressed. John was reacting slowly, he was still in some form of shock, when he found himself staring at her. Wippy was perched on the bed on all fours, with her ass pointed towards him. He waited a moment to admire, before she called him over. He took some time to stroke her skin and take in the moment. Soon enough, he was ready. When John entered her, it sent a pleasurable shock through her system. Wippy had not felt that sensation before. "Jack... you just hit... spot... front... pussy! Keep doing..." She was finding it hard to breathe. They kept on like that, John focused on that one spot that seemed to make her incoherent. It was on the front side, a few inches in, he thought. He gradually increased the rhythm. And then he came, suddenly. John and Wippy collapsed next to each other, happily cuddling. She had not orgasmed, but she felt a glow in her limbs that she had never experienced before. After a few minutes, they recovered enough to speak. "So, did I learn how to kiss you, sleeping beauty?" He had a grin on his face. "Almost, Jack." She felt so happy that she didn't consider what his reaction might be. "Almost?" The grin was gone. "Jack, it was incredible. Don't be impatient." She snuggled in closer to him. They lay in silence for a while, before she looked up at him with a grin. "Want to try again? El Dorado waits, oh Coronado!" "There are worse things that I could die in pursuit of." He kissed her, before she shifted back onto all fours. Simple Song Pt. 02 As they started, Wippy quickly began to tire. The last session had taken something out of her, so she ended up lying flat on the bed on her stomach as he stroked in and out of her. That change somehow enhanced the sensations that he was sending through her body. And when he slipped and fell on top of her at one point, it told Wippy what she really wanted. "Jack... lower..." John responded by trying to change the angle he was using. He was confused. Wippy gave a squeal of displeasure. "No... on top... lay... on top... of me..." John understood it this time, and rested most of his body weight on her back. It was divine. She could feel the sensations from his penetration and the comforting weight of his body pressing on her, holding her down and protecting her, at the same time. After a few minutes, she began to climax. It seemed like every muscle in her body was spasming at the same time, but at different frequencies. When she closed her eyes, she literally saw fireworks exploding. And then she went limp. Wippy woke up to find John holding her with a concerned look on her face. She couldn't help but giggle when she saw it. Judging by the expression, John apparently thought he had killed her. "Jack, were you afraid that you had fucked me to death?" "Well... uh..." She kissed him and snuggled back into his arms. As she drifted back asleep, she could feel him give a long sigh of relief. She did not see him pump his fist in victory. I hope you enjoyed it! As I said, this is the second of multiple parts (at least four). The next one will have some tough times for John, Wippy shouldn't get to have all of the fun. I honestly don't know when the next one will be ready. This is one story that I intend to continue to work on, both in writing new sections and in improving the ones already written. Recommendations or comments are good. Be Kind, Please Rewind.