Storiesonline.net ------- The Four Hour Erection by Lubrican Copyright© 2010 by Lubrican ------- Description: To work off her college loans, Dr. Angela Webber agreed to work in an under-served rural area for five years. Things went fine until she was asked to help a patient deal with a persistent problem. The treatment changed her life forever. Codes: MF reluc 1st oral mastrb pett preg size slow ------- ------- Foreword When I wrote a story called "The Two Day Erection" the same thing happened that happens often: while I was writing about one idea, another one ran through my mind too. This story is that other idea. If you've read "The Two Day Erection" then you'll recognize the characters in this story. Except that they're not necessarily the same characters. So don't jump to any conclusions. Bob ------- Chapter 1 Dr. Angela Webber ushered Mr. Pinkney out of the exam room. "So I just soak it in hot water at night before I go to bed," said the old man. "Hot as you can stand it, and mix in some Epsom salts," said Angela. "You'll sleep a lot better. That's a promise." "I'll hold you to it," said the old man, peering at her. "What do I get if you're wrong?" "What do you get?" She was puzzled. "A date?" The old man cackled and slapped his thigh. Thomas Pinkney was in his nineties and could barely walk. Angela thought it was cute that he still had an interest in sex. She was used to that. While she was growing up she'd always thought of her good looks and killer body as a curse, primarily because she was interested in science and math as a teenager, while every man within sniffing distance was interested only in getting her naked and on her back. She'd avoided that by virtue of spending all her time on advanced courses that were designed to - and did - get her into medical school. She didn't have a lot of friends, but dreams of being a doctor soothed her whenever she felt alone or neglected by her peers. And she DID love being a doctor, despite the fact that it was very different than she had envisioned. She didn't even mind that her first practice was in the hill town of Turkey Hollow North Carolina. Because of the staggering debt she had incurred in medical school, the only way she could pay it back was by working in an under-served, rural area. And Turkey Hollow, nestled in the Blue Ridge Mountains, was the poster child of under-served, rural areas. If she hung in there for five years, almost all of her debt would be forgiven. Having lived her whole life in the city, she had no idea how to pick a place to work, so she just put her finger down on the list in the placement office and took what fate handed her. Actually, other than the fact that there was very little to do for entertainment, now that she didn't have to spend all her time studying, she liked little Turkey Hollow. She hadn't thought air could be that clean, and smell so fresh. The people were a little standoffish, but she didn't mind that. She'd never had a lot of friends, after all. The cost of living was dirt cheap and, while men still glanced her way, they were a lot more polite about it than the men she'd been around before this. On top of that she had a wonderful mentor in Doctor Robert Kimble, who was old enough to be her father but insisted she call him Bob. Even after only a few months she was convinced he knew everything under the sun about medicine. The clinic didn't have all the latest and greatest equipment, but Bob taught her how to do things the old fashioned way. Nine times out of ten it was just as fast and just as good as some technique newer and much more expensive. So she settled in and was happy with her new life. Hill people weren't demanding about things. If you could help them, they were appreciative. If you couldn't help them, then they lived with that fact and did the best they could. Then, just five months into the job, Bob had fallen ill. He was going to require gall bladder surgery and would be out of the office for weeks. Angela panicked, until he put his arm around her and told her she'd do fine. "You're my doctor too," he said softly. "So buck up, and carry on. I'm only a phone call away if you want to consult." Today was, in fact, her very first day without him there to lean on. Still, things had seemed almost maddeningly normal thus far. "What's next, Holly?" she asked, turning toward the reception desk. Holly Cranston was a Turkey Hollow girl, born and bred, and the only time she'd ever been away from town was to go stay with her uncle to go to the Vo-Tech over in Durham. It seemed that Doctor Kimble had saved her father's life after an accident in the mine, and becoming an LPN was how she repaid him. She was also the receptionist, bookkeeper, and any other title that was needed at a given moment. Holly had a great attitude, partly, in Angela's opinion, because she had come back home and married well. Danny Cranston was a soft spoken young man who brought Holly lunch every day, and then stayed to eat with her. Holly brought home the bacon, and Danny stayed home and took care of their little girl. They lived with Holly's mother, who babysat each day during lunch. "I got a live one for you," said Holly softly, but with a gleam in her eye. Angela's eyes automatically went to the waiting area, where there were only two people, sitting side by side. The pinch-faced woman looked worn, like most older women looked in this town, having worked hard her entire life. The strapping young man sitting next to her brought thoughts of Paul Bunyan to mind. "Mrs. Fisher?" called Holly. "The doctor will see you now." Both of them stood up. "Where's Doc Kimble?" asked the woman, looking suspiciously at Angela. "He had to have an operation," said Holly. "Don't that beat all? This here is Doctor Webber." The woman shuffled over to Angela and peered into her face. "You're a real doctor?" "I am," said Angela, smiling. "Good 'nuff," said the woman. "Come on, Dub. Let's get this taken care of." "Ma," moaned the young man, still seated. "She's a woman, Ma." "Dub, don't make me call you twice," warned Mrs. Fisher. He stood, and the Paul Bunyan image firmed in Angela's mind. He had to be at least six-three, and looked like his arms were made of oak. Angela looked at Holly and raised an eyebrow. Holly shrugged and said "She'll tell you all about it." ------- In the exam room, Angela offered Mrs. Fisher a chair, looked at dub, pointed at the exam table and said "Have a seat there." Mrs. Fisher kept her feet, ignoring the chair. "So," said Angela, somewhat at a loss for words. What seems to be the problem today?" "Don't know if there IS a problem," said the older woman. My cousin Mildred has one of them tee vee things at home, and t'other night she was a-talkin' about this commercial for that Viagra stuff? Anyways, she said they was saying that iff'n a man has a 'rection for more than four hours to see a doctor, cause it kin be a 'mergency." Angela looked at Dub. He was the only person in the room who might have taken Viagra, though that was ridiculous. He could only be nineteen at most. "Ma," he complained. "It goes away after a while." "And sometimes it don't," countered his mother. She looked at Angela. "So how bad is it if he has a 'rection for more than four hours?" Angela looked at Dub. "You're taking Viagra?" "No, he ain't," said his mother. "I'm confused," admitted Angela, looking back at the boy, and trying to figure out why his mother would know information of such an intimate nature. "Can you start at the beginning?" Mrs. Fisher clenched her jaw, but then started talking. "We have to heat our water for baths on the stove. So we got's to share, you know? And whenever he's in there, and his sisters go in to get in with him, he gets a 'rection. An it don't go down, cause they like to tease him, even if I beat 'em, cause they think it's funny. Least ways I HOPE they just think it's funny. They's more than once I smelled excited girl at bedtime, and that was AFTER the baths. Angela clenched her own teeth, primarily to keep her jaw from dropping open. She reminded herself that she was in the hills now, and that customs were different. She tried to concentrate on the medical issue, rather than the social ones. She turned to Dub. "And sometimes these erections last longer than four hours?" His face flamed red and he ducked his eyes. "Yes Ma'am." "Even if you mas-" She stopped and darted a look at the boy's mother. She was completely out of her depth here. She knew, academically, that masturbation was considered a terrible thing in some subcultures. She had no idea if this was one of them or not. "So is it really bad?" asked Mr. Fisher. "'Cause we cain't afford for Dub to be down." Because it put her in scholastic mode, which soothed her, Angela jumped at the explanation. "If blood is trapped in the penis too long it can clot," she said. "That can deny some parts of the organ fresh blood and oxygen. If tissue dies, it can result in gangrene." Mrs. Fisher's reaction was nothing short of astonishing. "You can't cut my boy's peter off!" She almost swooned. "What?" Dub sounded like something had already been cut off, rending him a soprano, instead of the baritone he really was. "That's only in extreme cases," said Angela quickly. "If he's not taking anything to artificially maintain an erection, it should go flaccid on its own." "He ain't taking anything," said Mrs. Fisher firmly. "Them girls just won't leave him alone is all. I been tryin' to avoid this, but as fer as I kin tell, what he really needs is to learn how to make it go down on his own." Angela blinked. "He doesn't know how?" The woman looked at Angela. "His pappy died in the mine when he was only eleven. He's been the man of the house ever since. Twin sisters, and no brothers." She blinked. "And I for sure as hell ain't a-gonna teach him myself." "You want me to TEACH him how to..." "I fer sure as hell don't want nobody cuttin' off his peter neither," said Mrs. Fisher, undaunted. "He ain't used it much yet, but he'll need it one of these days. Once the girls get a couple of years older they'll be off makin' babies, I 'spect. I just need to make sure they don't start on that with Dub here, afore they leave home. So he needs to know how to get rid of them boners of his so they ain't no good to the girls. Then maybe they'll lose interest. The door opened and Holly stepped in. "We'll take it from here, Mrs. Fisher," she said briskly. "Don't you worry a bit. When he leaves here today he'll be up to snuff on the issue at hand." The woman nodded, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for someone to say things like that. "Issue at hand," she said under her breath. Then her worn face beamed briefly, showing a smile that was obviously rare. "That's kinda funny," she said. She snorted, went serious again and, without a word, left the room. "I was listening," said Holly, in explanation of why she had burst in. "This is ridiculous," spluttered Angela. "We can't teach him to..." "Why not?" asked Holly. "It IS to avoid a medical complication, after all." "Having an erection is not a medical complication," said Angela heatedly. "It is if it lasts longer than four hours," said Holly smugly. Angela's eyes narrowed. "You WANT to do this!" she accused. "I'm not doing anything," said Holly firmly. "I'm married, and you're the doctor." She turned to Dub, who was sitting there looking on interestedly. "We'll be right with you, Dub. Just be patient." Angela's eyes jerked to her ... patient. She had forgotten he was there. Something occurred to her. Mothers didn't always know everything. Her own mother never knew that Angela, who had a completely normal load of hormones when she was a teenager, had rubbed off like crazy under the covers most nights. "I'm sure you already know how to masturbate," she said, her voice level. "If that's got something to do with fishing, I might," he said helpfully. "I kin find just about any kind of bait you want, and I know where to use it and all that." "No," said Angela, impatiently. "MASTURBATE. With your penis." "I ain't using my willy for no kind of bait, Ma'am," he said firmly. "And I ain't gonna let nobody cut it off neither." "She's talking about whackin' off, Dub," said Holly, smiling slightly. "You know ... spanking the monkey? Chafing the weasel? Choking the chicken?" Angela's jaw dropped before she could stop it. She stared at Holly. "I HAVE wrung the necks of a might few chickens," said Dub, looking confused. "But we don't have no monkeys or weasels around out place." "Dub," said an exasperated Holly. "Don't you ever rub your pecker up and down when it's stiff?" "You mean in the bathtub?" He brightened. "Sure. Feels mighty nice too." "Yes, that!" said Holly. "But don't you ever do it in private, maybe in your bedroom?" "I don't do nothing in private," he said. "We don't have private at our house. They's only three rooms. Ma sleeps in one. Me an the girls sleep in another, an nobody sleeps in the other one, 'cause that's where the stove and the table and chairs and that kind of thing is." "You sleep with your sisters?" squeaked Angela. "Where else would I sleep?" he asked. "I help keep 'em warm in the winter time." "I do not believe this," sighed Angela. "I'm tellin' the truth, Ma'am," said Dub, obviously distressed. "I swear on Tillie Walker's grave I am." "Who's Tilly Walker?" asked Angela, blinking. "Never mind," said Holly. "This isn't a problem. "We just show him what to do and send him on his merry way." "We?" "Okay, you." "Me?" "As I said, you're the doctor." Holly grinned. "Don't worry. I'll be here for moral support. "There's nothing moral about this," grumbled Angela. She leaned close to Holly. "I've never done this!" she whispered. "I don't know what to do either." It was Holly's jaw that dropped then. She frowned, and then smiled. "Don't tell me you're a virgin," she said. "That's none of your business!" snapped Angela. Holly covered her mouth. "A package like that, and it's never been opened? She held up a hand as thunderclouds gathered on Angela's face. "Okay, okay. There's nothing to it. I'll help you explain it, and then he can take it from there." She turned to Dub. "All right, young man. The doctor is going to tell you what to do make your erection go away the next time you have one." "Like now?" he asked hopefully. Both women stared at him. Holly asked carefully "Do you have an erection now, Dub?" "Yes Ma'am," he said. "Why?" asked Angela. Holly snorted, but Dub stole her thunder. "It always happens whenever I'm around a purty woman," he said. His eyes flicked back and forth between Holly and the Doctor. "Two purty women," he corrected, apparently afraid one of them might be offended if she wasn't included in the category. "Why thank you, Dub," cooed Holly. "You're welcome," he said dutifully. "Oh good grief," said Angela. "This is ridiculous. Drop your pants." Dub stood, his head only half a foot from the ceiling tiles. He unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down. He wasn't wearing underwear. Both women froze. "Oh my WORD!" sighed Holly. ------- It can't be real," whispered Angela. "He doesn't need a doctor ... he needs a veterinarian!" yipped Holly. "What's wrong?" asked Dub, looking down at his crotch. What all three people in the room were now staring at was a stalk, reminiscent of a hickory sapling, stripped of its bark, and just a little shy of being the right size to fashion a policeman's billy club from. The white shaft jutted from a forest of thick brown hair. It leaned to one side, and slightly upwards, but was otherwise straight as an arrow. "It's enormous!" said Holly. "It is?" asked Dub. Angela leaned forward, peering to see if there was a seam somewhere. She was half convinced this whole thing was some prank, done in extremely poor taste. After thirty seconds of inspection, though, she had to admit the thing was obviously real. Nothing had been glued on or slipped over the real thing. Her eyes fell to the testes under it. They were dark brown and swollen. She'd never seen any that large or that swollen. "Are you in pain?" she asked. "No Ma'am," he answered. She remembered bits and pieces of both formal education and school yard lore. The term "blue balls" flitted through her mind. She'd always thought that boys had invented the alleged malady to get girls to do something out of pity. If this young man had never ejaculated though, based on those testes, she could believe the condition both existed and was, in fact, painful. Except that he said he wasn't in pain. "Are your testes always that full?" she asked. "My what?" "Your nuts," said Holly. His hand went to feel them, as if he couldn't see past his penis. "They feel all right to me," he said. "Is something wrong?" "You're just hung like a horse," said Holly. "That's all." He laughed. "No I ain't. I seen plenty of horse dicks, and they're at least twice as long as mine. Maybe more." "Where's a tape measure?" asked Holly. Angela whirled. "You are NOT going to measure that thing!" she barked. "Party pooper," said Holly, grinning. The door of the outer office opened and closed. Holly reached for the knob of the exam room door. "I'll just go see who that is." "You can't leave me here alone with him!" yipped Angela. "Oh grow up," said Holly. "You're a doctor. He needs to learn to beat off. How hard can that be?" She opened the door, slipped out, and closed it firmly. ------- Perhaps it was the fact that she was rattled. Maybe there was something else going on. After all, deep in her subconscious, she had all the needs and urges that any other woman had. She'd just never let them out. She'd been too busy. It would have been relatively simple to say "Dub, grab your peter and stroke it like you were washing it in the bathtub." Then, while he did so, she could have urged him to keep rubbing until the desired result was achieved. But, flustered as she was, that's not what she did. Instead, she sat on the short steel stool in front of the patient ... and reached for the thing that so fascinated her. Education is the basis for understanding, and understanding is the basis for making the best choices. So Education is a good thing. In the next few minutes there was a LOT of education going on in that exam room. The first thing Angela thought of as her hand closed around the warm, throbbing shaft was that it felt completely different than she expected it to. It looked so cold and hard that she expected to feel cold and hard. It was neither. There was an undeniable firmness to it, of course, but it gave slightly where her fingers pressed into it, and it was so warm that her first thought was that he might have a fever. Her second thought was astonishment at how good this thing felt in her hand. Her third thought was that, while she knew it was larger than normal, it felt like her hand fit it perfectly. She gripped a little tighter and moved her hand up and down experimentally several times. The ONLY thing that Dub thought of was that her hand felt about a thousand times better than his own did when he gripped it. A thousand times is a lot. "Ohhhh wow," he sighed. "Does that feel nice?" asked Angela, and then felt stupid immediately. Of course it felt nice. Still his breathy "Oh yeah!" made her feel good in ways she hadn't felt good in a long time. It was then she realized what she was doing. She let go of the thick stalk like it was on fire and leaned back. She felt her face heat up and knew she was blushing. "Uh ... well ... that's what you're supposed to do," she mumbled. "Like this?" he asked. His big hand went to grip his prick. He skinned it up and down the shaft a couple of times." "Yes," she said, staring at the tip. He let go and leaned back on both hands. "It feels a whole bunch better when you do it," he commented. "I really shouldn't," she sighed. "How come?" "Because I'm a woman and you're a man and this is strange enough as it is," she said. "But it feels so much better when you do it," he complained. "Dub, you're going to have to do this whenever you get an erection. I won't be there to do it for you then, now will I?" "You're here now," he suggested hopefully. She ignored him. "Now keep rubbing it up and down until I tell you to stop." He looked unhappy, but reached for his rod again. His hand settled into a relatively smooth rhythm. "Does feel good," he commented calmly. "And you've really never done this?" she asked, more to make conversation than anything else. "Just in the bathtub," he said. "It's always felt good, but it don't take hardly no time to get it clean." "Well we're going to go longer today," she said. "I can see why," he sighed. "That feels REALLY good!" "Excellent," she said. "You'll keep doing this until you have an ejaculation. Semen will come out and then your penis will relax." It sounded academic and, truth be told, Angela was thinking about it academically, for the most part. She was fascinated by watching the slab of meat be manipulated, but she expected something fairly academic in the end. Dub, on the other hand, didn't know what was coming at all. Such things normally being the product of instinct though, as it felt better and better, he speeded up, until he was flailing away at what Mamma referred to as his "root". "Damn," he panted. "It just feels better and better. It's even starting to hurt, kind of, except it's a good hurt." "That means you're close to ejaculating," said Angela, leaning forward. "Keep going. The culmination of her efforts was, in fact, academic, but it was academic in the same way that Newton's discovery of gravitational theory was academic. Both had spectacular consequences. To put it in the most simple frame of reference, Dub's face scrunched up and his penis produced semen. The problem was that Angela, who had never actually SEEN an ejaculation before, was expecting it to be the half ounce that the books in med school had said was normal. She also assumed it would dribble out of the tip of the penis which, were that penis ensconced snugly in a vagina, would have been the perfect outcome. The half ounce of semen would be deposited politely at the cervical mouth, and the sperm in the semen would then do what sperm were supposed to do. It never occurred to her that, considering his abnormal size, his ejaculation might be other than normal as well. Her first clue, and most definitely part of her education that day, came when, for a split second, her eyes registered a stream of thick white erupt from the slit in the end of his penis. After that split second, she couldn't see anything except a world that was suddenly foggy. Her mind registered the fact that what had been WAY more semen than she was expecting ... had just hit her in the face and splashed in both eyes. Her head went up and back, instinctively, but it was too late. Then the second spurt splatted against her upper lip where it made a seal on her upper teeth. Her hands came up as she lurched backward with a shriek. Her body overbalanced on the short steel stool and she fell backwards to land with a solid thump on her back. All the air in her lungs blew out of her lips in a rush. Dub, who had just about decided he'd done something wrong, because his penis suddenly felt like it was fire, was both shocked and surprised to feel something soothing race through it. That something soothing leapt out of the tip of his cock like he was in a pissing contest and impacted the doctor's face right between her blond eyebrows, where the top of her nose was. Before he could react to that, though, another stream of the white stuff was launched. It felt just as good coming out. He watched that shot strike her lips and then all hell broke loose as she screeched and fell backwards. He saw a cloud of droplets that looked just like his white stuff blast upwards from her mouth. He let go of his dick, even though he wanted to keep rubbing it, and lurched forward, passing by the stool to stand over the doctor. His intent was to help her up, but she wasn't trying to get up. Instead her mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water. Her fingers were scrabbling at her eyes, wiping his stuff out of them and she was shaking all over like she was having a fit. "You okay?" he asked fearfully. The door to the room flew open and Holly, wild-eyed and brandishing a stapler, burst in. Her eyes took in Dub, standing over Angela, his horse cock still naked and hanging, dripping onto the doctor, who was gurgling and wiping what looked like cake frosting from her eyes. "She fell down!" said Dub helpfully. ------- Chapter 2 Angela was again sitting on the metal stool. Holly was swabbing her face with gauze and paper towels. Dub had been told to "put that thing away!" and was standing next to the two women, wringing his hands. "I'm sorry," he said for perhaps the tenth time. "I didn't know that was gonna happen." "I know," said Angela. She licked her lips and realized his semen was both on them and had gotten in her mouth. Her education went on as she then realized that the taste was not going to make her throw up. She'd always been sure that, if anything like that ever got in her mouth (which she was QUITE sure she would never allow) that she'd simply puke her guts out. Instead, she was shocked to find that the taste, though indescribable, was not offensive at all. "It's all right, Dub. I didn't quite know what to expect either, apparently." "Are you SURE you're okay?" he moaned. "My ma will KILL me if I hurt you." "There," said Holly standing back. "The worst of it is taken care of." She surveyed the woman and saw a blob of semen in her hair. She dabbed at that with the paper towel. "Your blouse is stained, though," said Holly. "You need to go home and change." "Sure," said Angela, sounding defeated. "Hey, come on," said Holly. "It's not the end of the world. A year from now we'll be laughing about this." "If you mention this a year from now you're fired!" snapped Angela. "I'm REALLY sorry!" moaned Dub, unhappy with the sound of discord. Angela whirled to face him. "Whenever you get a damn boner, just do that to make it go away! Got it?" "Yes Ma'am," he said, ducking his head. "Can I go now?" "Oh yes," said Angela. "We are VERY finished." "Go on home yourself," said Holly to Angela. "You don't have any more appointments today and it's only an hour from closing time anyhow. If there are any emergencies I'll call you. Get cleaned up and relax and you'll feel much better," she finished. Angela looked down at the semen stains on her front. She couldn't help licking her lips again, feeling like she should cringe. She didn't taste anything this time. She'd never thought about what it would be like the first time she did anything sexual. Well that wasn't technically correct. Rather, her thoughts about sex had been misty and lacked detail. She certainly hadn't thought her first experience with semen would be to get it all over her. She sighed. "Yeah, I could use a bath right now," she said. ------- Angela opened the door of the house and went in, glad, for once, that Bob wasn't there. When she had interviewed for the job and he had offered it to her, he also offered to let her stay in a spare room at his house until she found her own place. He still lived in the big old two story house he'd raised his family in. His kids were all grown and gone, and he said he'd never gotten around to getting a smaller place after his wife had died. She was looking forward to a quiet evening so she could recover from her day. She groaned as she slid into the hot water, looking forward to the relaxation she knew a hot soak in the tub would provide. She let her head slide under the water until her hair was floating beside her face, and then pushed with her feet to make her head and neck slide back up out of the water. She lay there, just vegging out. What a day. Nobody would believe it ... not that she ever intended on telling anyone about it. THAT little fiasco was the last thing in the world she'd ever share with anyone. She lay there until the water began to cool, and then quickly and efficiently washed her body. She decided to wash her hair later. She was suddenly hungry. She drained the tub while she dried off. The cool air on her skin felt wonderful after the heat, so she just stayed naked while she padded to the kitchen. It was another plus to her mentor being gone. Opening the fridge, she looked for something to snack on while she put leftovers in the microwave for supper. She saw a box of Velveeta sitting next to a tube of summer sausage and pulled both out. As her hand poised, holding the knife over the thick tube of sausage, an image of Dub Fisher's penis flashed into her mind. She snorted. He was big, but he wasn't THAT big. Still, she couldn't help but wince as she cut into the meat. Feeling silly, she picked up the tube to re-wrap the end, and found herself staring at it. She felt her nipples crinkle and tingle, and looked down to see they were erect. While she had no real experience with sex, that didn't mean she was uneducated about the things people did while they were engaged in it. "This is ridiculous," she said out loud. Her hand squeezed the firm tube of meat and she licked her lips. She couldn't believe she was thinking about trying to put the round end of the sausage in her mouth. It was horrifying! It wouldn't fit! What was even more confusing was that she had never in her life contemplated putting her mouth on any penis, real or imagined! She was standing no more than six feet from the door in the outside wall of the kitchen, which let out of the side of the house, when someone thumped on it repeatedly. She was so startled that the slippery summer sausage flew up into the air. She squawked and tried to catch it, but it evaded her and bounced to the floor. The thumping came again and she looked at the door. Then, to her horror, she saw movement in the window beside the door. A face pressed to the window, and two hands formed brackets around the face as Dub Fisher peered into her kitchen. "Doc?" he called. "Are you home?" She saw his eyes move around the room and find her. She saw them fix on her. She saw his eyes widen and his mouth drop open as he realized she was stark naked. Her hands fluttered in a vain attempt to cover three things with only two obstructions. "Dub!" she squealed, turning around. She looked over her shoulder to see him still there ... still looking at her through the window. "Good!" he called out. "You ARE home!" ------- Angela ran from the kitchen. Thoroughly flustered, she slipped into her robe and then returned. She opened the door two inches. "What are you doing here, Dub?" she asked. "Mamma sent me with your pay," he said. He stepped back and held out two chickens. He was holding them by the neck and they were both very dead. "I'm supposed to help you get them ready for the pot or freezer, whichever you want." "I just got out of the bathtub, Dub," she said. "That's nice," he said, smiling widely. "I don't have anything on," she tried again. "I kind of saw that. Sorry. I was just tryin' to see if you was here." She looked at the tall young man, holding two dead chickens, and decided her life HAD entered the realm of science fiction. "You can't pay me with chickens, Dub," she sighed. "It's all we got," he said, looking worried. "An I wasn't s'posed to kill 'em until I got here, but they was peckin' at me, so I carried em by the neck an I guess I squeezed too hard, so we need to get 'em cleaned right quick." "I don't know how to clean a chicken!" she yelped. "It's okay. I do," he smiled. "You just get a big pot about half full of boiling water and I'll show you." Angela found herself backpedaling as he put a shoulder into the door and pushed it open. She instinctively pulled the upper part of the short robe together to cover her cleavage. "How big a pot?" she asked, slightly dazed. "Big enough go dunk a whole bird," he said, laying the chickens on the counter. "I don't think we have a pot that big," she said. "Then a bucket will do. You prob'ly don't have a hatchet either, huh? How about a butcher knife?" She handed him the biggest knife she could find and watched in horror as he held each carcass over the sink and casually lopped the heads off. He held the birds up while blood drained into the sink, and then left them there as he washed his hands. He turned around. "The water?" ------- Angela looked at the two chickens with something like awe. They looked just like the ones in the store now, except they were fuller, plumper somehow. She wrinkled her nose at the lingering smell of wet feathers, remembering how he had dunked each bird into the bucket of boiling water and then, like magic, stroked them in some magical way that made the feathers just fall off into the trash can. She had seen in his hands the same skill a surgeon had then, as he quickly and efficiently butchered the now bald carcasses. The whole process had taken no more than ten minutes per bird once the water was boiling. She watched him bundle one chiken up in plastic wrap and put it in the freezer. He had already offered to cook the other one for her and, at a loss for words, she had simply nodded. He called for things and she supplied them, until there were suddenly browning pieces of chicken in a pan of hot oil. "You got any taters?" She looked up at his face to find he was staring at her cleavage. She looked down. The robe had loosened as she moved around and he was getting a good view. "I need to put something on," she said. "I wish you wouldn't," he said. "What?" she asked, startled. "It's just that you're so pretty that way," he said. "Almost as pretty as when I saw you through the window." "Dub!" she yipped. "What" He asked. "You're not supposed to say things like that to a woman!" she barked. "Why not?" he asked. "It's true." "Yes, but you can't just tell a woman you like looking at her naked," moaned Angela, frustrated with his innocence. "Oh," he said. "Okay. How about them taters?" She found half a bag of potatoes in the pantry and then somehow found herself in conversation with her "guest" as he boiled some potatoes and then mashed them, adding milk and butter he found in the fridge. He poked through the cupboards until he found spices, and started adding them too. He asked her where she came from, and about her family. She found out he worked at the feed mill in town, unloading trucks and then loading others. He wanted to know what medical school had been like. Despite the gap in their educational and social status, she found herself quite comfortable with him. He was innocent, but he wasn't stupid in the least. Eventually he asked about her boyfriend, who he referred to as "manfriend." "I don't have one, Dub," she said. He looked astonished. "I don't know all that much about courtin' and all that, cause I ain't never got to do any. I danced with some girls at the ice cream social and all, but that was different. But you're so beautiful. I can't just hardly believe no man has chased after you." "Thank you," said Angela softly, remembering Holly saying the same thing, and finally realizing why she had smiled when she said it. As a compliment it was a little rough, but it was obviously from the heart. "I can't believe you don't have a lady friend of your own either." "Oh, Mamma says we got enough mouths to feed at home," he said dismissively. "And she says she don't need some girl movin' in trying to take over her house." "Well I think you're supposed to move into your own house when you get married," said Angela, smiling. "They need me there," he said. "They'd starve without me to take care of them. Mamma takes in wash, but she cain't do much because of her arthritis. There ain't no work for my sisters. Jed Turnbull is sparkin' Lula Mae, and she's sweet on him, but Mamma says she cain't do nothing about it until they graduate. She feels bad that I had to drop out. It's Lula Mae that won't leave me alone whenever I get all stiff, like you cured me of today." "I didn't cure you, Dub," said Angela hiding her smile behind her hand. "You'll get erections for the rest of your life." "Yeah," he sighed. "I know. I got one when I saw you nekkid through the window." Angela's jaw dropped at his casual reference and then he threw her for another loop by looking around and saying "I didn't find any fresh snap beans, so I s'pose we'll have to do with some from a can. You got any in the pantry? I need to keep turning this chicken or it'll burn." ------- Angela leaned back in her chair and sighed. She'd felt odd, sitting at Doc Kimble's kitchen table in nothing more than a short robe, but only until she'd taken her first bite of fried chicken. It was astounding. She was quite sure she'd eaten fried chicken before. She even remembered doing it, but it had never been like this. And the potatoes just melted in her mouth. She was in heaven by her fourth forkful, moaning with joy at the sensations in her mouth. She didn't even care about her fingers getting greasy as she tore off a chunk of chicken with her teeth and chewed. "You're a good cook!" she mumbled. He shrugged. "Been cookin' since Mamma's arthritis got bad," he said. You do it a lot and it gets to be a habit I guess. This ain't nothing special." "You can cook for me any time," she moaned. "Okay," he said, and she realized he had accepted an offer that was made rhetorically. Now she felt like she had eaten too much and was sure she must look like she had a beer belly. She watched as he basically destroyed the rest of the chicken. She'd eaten two pieces, and he'd eaten the rest. There wasn't much left in the bowl of potatoes either and if she'd have opened a second can of green beans she was sure they'd be gone too. She looked down and saw crumbs from the breaded chicken on the lapels of her robe. Her fingers were greasy, but she just didn't feel like moving to go wash them. "I ate like a pig," she sighed. "No you didn't," he said, as usual taking her literally. "I LOOK like I ate like a pig," she argued. "No you don't," he said firmly. She held up her hands. "Look at me!" she complained. He got up, grabbed the towel hanging from the oven handle, ran hot water on it, and then came around to her side of the table. He took the chair next to her and sat in it, facing her. He reached for a hand and began to clean it with the hot towel. Astonished, she turned automatically to face him and, in the process, somehow ended up with her knees on either side of his right one. She was painfully aware that the short robe might be displaying parts of her he'd only seen through the window, but she wouldn't look down to assess the damage. His eyes were on the hand he was cleaning. It was while he was on her other hand, carefully cleaning each greasy finger, that she found herself staring at the lump in the front of his pants. "You're still hard," she said and then realized she'd said it out loud. "Yeah," he said carelessly. Her embarrassment drifted away. HE wasn't embarrassed. Why should she be? "Have you been hard the whole time you were here?" she asked. "Uh huh," he said. He was finally happy with the last finger and put her hand down. It landed on one of her bare thighs. She looked down then, and saw a tuft of blond hair plainly visible beneath the front of her robe. His knee was only an inch from that hair. Warmth flooded her groin, and Angela realized with academic detachment that she was aroused. She accepted the fact calmly, and was briefly surprised that she was so calm. She was even more surprised at how calmly she said the next thing. "It's been that way quite a while. I suppose you should do something about it." "You think so?" he asked. "Can I do it here?" "Here?" "Well, I ain't the smartest man around," he said. "but if I do this at home, with the girls watchin' I 'spect that's not gonna go over too good." "You do it in private," said Angela, imagining this tall brawny man surrounded by teenage girls, watching him masturbate. She shivered. "Like in the bathroom." "Oh," he said. Warning bells went off in Angela's head, but she spoke anyway. "But you can do it here if you like." "I'd like that," he said. "I like doin' it with you watching." He frowned. "I don't know why, but I just do." He looked startled. "Unless you want me to do it in the bathroom here," he amended. She felt more waves of warmth spread through her body. He was so honest and open. There was nothing fake or contrived about him. It was astonishing how much that attracted her. And his innocence was genuine. She just knew that. She didn't feel any fear of him in the slightest. "That won't be necessary," she said. ------- True to form Dub had stood, ready to drop his drawers and beat off right there in the kitchen. Remembering his face at the window, though, she took him into the bedroom instead. More warning klaxons sounded in her mind, but she ignored them. She had never felt like this around a man, and it was intoxicating. She had astounded herself by suggesting that he'd be more comfortable if he took his clothes off, rather than just pushing his pants down. When he stood before her naked, in all his masculine glory, she knew she'd made a mistake. She stared at his broad chest, with its underlying muscles. He didn't have an ounce of fat on him, and his biceps were enormous. Standing there like that, his penis looked strangely normal, compared with the rest of him. He was simply a giant of a man ... everywhere. "You can lie on the bed," she said, her voice quivering. "I'll get a towel to catch your..." She was unable to finish, and went into the bathroom, where she grabbed the towel she had dried off with. She had an errant thought that with this towel, in a manner of speaking, she had cleaned his last ejaculation off of her body. Now it was going to get a full dose straight from the source. He was lying on his side, his head propped on one hand, while his other hand idly stroked his rampant rod. "I wish I'd learned to do this a long time ago," he said. "It feels so good." She sat on the edge of the bed to arrange the towel where she thought it would do the best job and then, for some reason she didn't think too much about, just stayed there to watch. "I won't get it on you tonight," he promised, his voice serious. "It didn't hurt me, she said. "It knocked you over!" he objected. "I was just surprised. I lost my balance." "Oh, that makes me feel better. It came out awful hard." "That's true," she said, smiling. "You're a very healthy man, Dub." She watched him watching his hand as he stroked his cock. "It feels so good to do this that I kind of hate to get to the end," he commented. "Getting to the end is the whole point," she said. Her nipples were painfully hard and she resisted the urge to reach for them and squeeze them. "Yeah, but it feels so good!" he argued. "The only thing that felt better was when you were doing it." "Do you want me to do it now?" It had just slipped out. She hadn't meant to say it. She held her breath. "Would you?" His anticipation and excitement were so genuine that the warning voice screeching in her mind suddenly dimmed as she ignored it. "I guess I could," she whispered. Somehow he knew that it would be awkward for her to reach across the bed to touch him. He bounced, somehow, landing on his back right beside her while reaching for the pillow with both big hands and stuffing it behind his head. He put his hands beside his hips, and his right one landed on her thigh. All she had to do was reach for it, and then there it was, in her hand, throbbing like it had earlier, feeling so very normal for such an abnormal thing. Her hand slid loosely up, tightened, and then pushed downward. She watched the foreskin slide effortlessly off the big purple knob of the tip. As her hand rode back up, the knob disappeared, almost as if by magic. "Oh yeah," he sighed. "I don't know why it feels so different, or so much better, but it does." "Yes it does," she said, her voice a little dazed. As she thought about it later, Angela was sure it would have all worked out flawlessly but for one small problem. Never having done this before, she didn't know HOW to do it properly, or at least efficiently. That became clear when, after five ... then ten ... and finally an exhausting fifteen minutes, it simply didn't erupt like it was supposed to. Not that he complained. He wasn't unhappy. That much was obvious too. He wiggled and squirmed and told her many times how wonderful she was making him feel. Another thing she was figured out later was what small pebble moved that resulted in the avalanche she suddenly found herself buried in. It was his comment "I wish there was something I could do to make you feel this good too!" What happened after that was something that had transpired so quickly that she could scarcely parse out the individual parts. Somehow she had ended up lying beside him, her robe open and her hand on his, guiding it between her legs. She was quite sure she had told him what to do, but could not, for the life of her, remember actually saying the words. What she COULD remember was his thick finger penetrating her, and the insane joy that caused. It would not be until much later that they would discover that, in the excitement of her own orgasm, her hand on his prick sped up, and finally coaxed his gift from his balls. The outcome was as spectacular as the one earlier that had caused so much embarrassment. But it was memorable in different ways that would resonate with them both for a long, long time. He was lying on the towel that was supposed to catch his issue. When he spurted, his prick was between them, and he painted her breasts, abdomen and chin with his thick spunk. She felt the heat of it, but the zings of her own completion were more important at the moment. It wasn't until they had slowed, both spent, and were catching their breath, that she regained her senses. Her feelings then were a complicated mixture of acknowledgement that something important had happened, mixed with horror, embarrassment, gratitude and even sadness that it had happened so fast that she couldn't remember nearly as much of it as she wanted to. Unable to cope, she simply got up and ran to the bathroom, turning on the shower and jumping in to wash his fluids off her body. In her defense, it is unlikely that anyone in her situation would be likely to remember the fact that this man was both used to and perfectly comfortable bathing with a member of the opposite sex. ------- Chapter 3 Angela jumped, genuinely startled, when he stepped into the shower behind her. She had been on the verge of breaking down and sobbing, and all she could do was hold her breath to try not to do that. She stiffened, and then his hand reached past her to take the soap from the dish on the wall. The feel of his soapy hands on her shoulders was probably what saved her from freaking out. He didn't grab her breasts, or dart his hand to her pussy. He simply washed her, his hands sliding soothingly across her back, kneading slightly when they found tight muscles, which was almost everywhere. Efficiently he dealt with her back, buttocks and upper legs. When he squatted behind her one hand went between her legs, mirrored by the other on the outside. Together they slid from her ankle upwards, stopping within a hair of touching her pussy lips as she unconsciously stood on tiptoes. Then they slid back down and he did the other leg too. He could easily have touched her sexually, but he was just washing her. When he turned her around she closed her eyes, but stood, calm now, as he did her front. His hands on her breasts felt good, but somehow not sexual, and she was thinking so hard about that that she all but missed his hand sudsing up the hair above her sex. His hand dipped once, quickly between her legs, and he was done. He turned her back around so the water could sluice the soap from her body. His motions were practiced and efficient, and without being overtly sexual, were more erotic than anything she'd ever dreamed of. She wondered if he washed his sisters this way. If he did, it was no wonder his sisters were interested in his erections. She felt a resurgence of the desire that had led to that insanity she'd allowed on the bed. She was trying to decide what to do about it when he stopped. "Boy," he said. "These shower things are great. I sure wish we had one of these at home." The incongruity of what was happening was suddenly hilarious, and Angela burst into laughter. She couldn't get over the fact that she was standing stark naked in a running shower, with a naked giant of a man right behind her. That she had just fondled that man's penis to ejaculation made her want to scream. The remembered ecstasy of feeling his finger inside her, so different than her own, made her want to moan. That what seemed uppermost in his mind was how great a shower was made her almost fall down with laughter. Later she would decide it was his unbelievable innocence that disguised the equally unbelievable danger of continuing what had somehow gotten started. At any rate, as she laughed, she turned, to share her joy with the man who was responsible for it. She looked up at his face, which had a smile on it. She felt the water from the jets hitting the top of her head. His broad chest shone inches from her face. It seemed completely normal to reach for the soap and return the favor. ------- Angela was astonished to find that touching him this way was undeniably sexual from the very first contact. She started with his chest, and her slippery fingers smoothed over bunches of muscles she could have named, had she been thinking in that way. But she wasn't thinking clinically. His arms hung, masses of muscle as she massaged them. His forearms were thick and firm and his wrists felt hard as rock. For reasons she couldn't identify she looked up at his face. He wasn't smiling any more, and was just staring down at her. She knew, somehow, that if she kept going down his front, something she couldn't control would happen, so she tried to turn him. He felt as heavy as a steel safe. "Turn around," she ordered. He did so and she discovered more bunches of muscles on his back. He let out a little sigh as she pressed her fingers harder against his flesh and, without saying a word, communicated perfectly that what she was doing felt good. Her hands reluctantly left his back and slid to a narrow waist as she bent her knees. Then she was on one knee and his butt was right in front of her face. Even that had muscle definition in it, and this time she DID think of the names of the muscles. Her hands slid to grip both cheeks. He tensed up and all she could do was dent them. She was suddenly reminded of the last male buttocks she'd seen. It had been when she'd done a prostate exam on George Hooper under the sharp eye of her mentor. Mr. Hooper had been mightily embarrassed, and she had pinked up a bit too. She'd forgotten all about that, though, when her finger found an enlarged prostate and they began talking about what that meant. She found herself imagining Dub's prostate, visualized it as a walnut-sized organ with a tiny little six pack on it, and laughed. "What's wrong?" he asked, turning his upper body and craning his neck to look at her. "Nothing," she said. "Have you ever had a prostate exam?" "Seeing as how I don't know what a pros-tate is, I reckon not," he said. "Do I need one?" Angela felt impish. This man had overpowered her out there on the bed, even if it hadn't been intentional on his part. There was no other explanation for what had happened. She had vague memories of feeling helpless, but perfectly happy at the same time, even if she wasn't in control of the situation. The urge to get something back was also overpowering. "You should have regular exams," she said firmly. "Lean against the wall and stick your butt out," she commanded. "Why?" he asked. "I'm going to examine your prostate," she said. "Oh." He did as he was told and she grinned as she soaped up her finger. "This is going to feel odd," she said. "When I tell you to, try to fart." "I don't need to fart." he said, looking over his shoulder again. "Just try," she said. "Okay." She pulled one ass cheek aside, exposing his tight sphincter. "Okay," she said, with her soapy finger poised by his rectum. She saw the sphincter relax and drove her finger through it in one firm, quick motion, twisting her wrist so that the pad of the finger would be in position to feel his prostate. She got the briefest touch, when he leapt off the floor of the shower and yelped. She let her hand ride up with him and kept her finger where it was. He landed with his knees apart and bent. "What the hell?" he yelled, his hand coming back to feel for hers. "You got your finger up my butt!" "STOP!" she yelled. "What are you doing?" he whined. He sounded like he might cry. "Listen to me!" she ordered. "Damn," he moaned. "Listen to me," she said again, still firmly, but more softly. "I'm going to push on something inside of you." She found the organ and pressed. "Feel that?" she asked. "Oh hell yes," he gasped. "That is your prostate," she said. She slid her finger around one side of it and then back. It was, in fact, the size of a walnut and perfectly firm and healthy. She pressed to squash it." "AHHHHHHHHH," he grunted. She could hear the embarrassment in his voice and suddenly felt bad. She pulled her finger out and sudsed her hands, letting the shower water rinse them. "It's always difficult the first time," she said, feeling lame. "That was weird," he said, his voice muffled. "Look what it did." He turned around. He was fully erect again. "Is there somethin' wrong with me?" he asked, a little whine in his voice. "No," she said softly. "A prostate exam sometimes has that effect." Not to mention, she thought, having one done under these circumstances. "Your prostate is fine," she said. "Oh," he said. "That's good." "Yes, that's good," she said. She reached for the soap. "I'm sorry. I should have warned you about what was going to happen." "It's okay, I guess," he said. "Nobody ever done that to me before. Sure felt weird." "I'll make it up to you," she said. She lathered up her hands, and reached for his erection. ------- "Oh man, Doc," sighed Dub as she smoothly jacked his cock. "You just don't know how good that feels." "I have some idea," said Angela, who was surreptitiously rubbing her clit while she once again masturbated the man she could no longer think of as only her patient. Again, it was her own orgasm that caused her hand to speed up. He warned her this time but in the running water of the shower she didn't care. As her own streaks of insane joy washed through her body, she let his hot jets of semen splat against her chest, between her breasts and watched, fascinated as his thick organ supplied spurt after spurt. She felt the thing pulse in her hand and, amazed, could already feel it becoming less firm. Curious, she slowed, milking the last drops out of it and held on as it softened even more. Hearing him panting she looked up to see him standing with his feet spread, staring down at her with something in his eyes that made her belly flutter. His body was shielding her from the spray from the shower head. She stood, facing him, and felt his spend dripping down, across her abdomen. She looked down to see her blond pussy hair catch the drooling liquid until it was thick with viscous, white fluid. He turned, sliding past her elbow and the water hit her breasts full on. She sucked in air as his hand landed on her upper abdomen and then slid down. At first she thought he was trying to help clean his semen off of her, but then his finger slid back inside her and she jerked, gasping. "Like this?" his voice came in her ear. "Ahhhhh," she groaned as he probed more deeply. The top of his finger was crushing her clit. "Dub ... no," she moaned. "I want to do it right," he said, misunderstanding. "You made me feel so good. I want you to feel that good too." He slid his finger out and then back in and she shuddered. "Is this better?" he asked, swirling the finger inside her. She felt her knees weaken with the realization of twin truths. First, her mind told her that the finger inside her was almost certainly coated with his own sperm, collected as he slid his hand through her muff. Second, there were electric shocks jerking through her loins as her pussy welcomed the orgasm his finger would surely bring if she didn't stop him. What hijacked her thoughts was her suspicion that it was that sperm - the first sperm to ever enter her vagina - that was making all that electricity. She felt her body betray her as her knees bent to give his hand more room. "Yes," she gasped. "Like that." He began rhythmically sliding his finger in and out of her, swirling it each time he fully penetrated her, and she had to hold onto his shoulders to keep from falling. When the orgasm burst into her belly, though, the heat it carried stiffened her entire body and she fairly vibrated, fully aware of every square inch of her skin that was in contact with his. She moved her breasts against his chest sideways, and then back again as she cried out her release. She had to tell him to remove his finger as she became suddenly too sensitive and pain threatened to replace the soothing joy. He complied and she looked up to see his anxious face peering into hers. "Are you okay?" he asked. His lips were right there ... so she kissed them. ------- Drying off seemed awfully quiet until Dub spoke. "I guess that kind of thing ... what we done together ... that's prob'ly what mamma wants me to stay shy of with my sisters, huh." Angela looked at him and when her eyes seemed pulled to his chest she jerked them away to stare at the wall just over his shoulder. "I expect that's right, Dub." "Is that what sparkin' is all about?" he asked. He seemed as unashamed of his nudity as it was possible to be, and that somehow made her feel less nervous about being naked herself. "Uh ... yes," she said. "I guess it is." He stopped moving and frowned. "So was I sparkin' you?" The enormity of what they had done was finally sinking in, and Angela's stomach felt like she'd swallowed something hard and heavy. "No, Dub," she said. "Oh. So ... were you sparkin' me?" he sounded confused. "I was just trying to help you with your ... problem," she said. "Oh. Okay. So I don't have to tell mamma about it then." "Of for goodness sakes no!" gasped Angela. "Nobody can ever find out what happened here, Dub. I could get in a lot of trouble." "How come?" "It's unprofessional for me ... a doctor ... to have ... um ... relations with a patient." "That was having relations?" His voice went up several notches. "That's not how Chucky Johnson described it at all. He said he got right on top of Jenny Masters and put his peter right up inside of her, where my finger was, except in Jenny instead of you." "No!" she almost moaned. "I didn't mean we had intercourse. That's what your friend was describing. I should have said it's improper for me to have a relationSHIP with you." "That's good," he sighed. "Mamma would be right mad at me if I had to marry you." "Marry me!" yipped Angela. "Like Chucky and Jenny. As soon as her daddy found out about them having relations and all, he said Chucky had to marry her." "Well you don't have to worry about that," said Angela, relieved. "We're not going to have relations." "Oh, all right," he said. He smiled. "But you'll keep helping me with my problem, won't you?" She was shocked at the thrill that shot through her at his eagerness, and clamped down hard on her emotions. "No, Dub. We went too far this time. This is the kind of thing that LEADS to having ... relations. It's wrong, and I can't do it any more." "Oh." He heaved a sigh. "It sure was fun while it lasted, I guess. Thanks for all your help. I'll bring you a couple of more chickens next week, seein' as how I ate most of one of your others, and you helped me two more times and all." "That's not necessary," said Angela, wrapping her towel around her middle. It wasn't large enough to cover her genital area, but she felt less exposed. Dub, still unconcerned with his nudity, left the bathroom with her and started climbing into his clothes. In a fit of stubborn pride, Angela dropped her towel and put on the robe again. It was her house - well, she lived there anyway - and she was going to dress as she saw fit. He'd be gone in a few minutes and she could relax. When he was dressed she walked him to the door. "Thank you for the chickens," she said formally. "And please remember, no one must ever find out what we did here tonight." "You're welcome," he said almost gravely. "And thank you for ... well for all sorts of things. I had a real good time. I don't think I'll ever be scared of going to the doctor again." She coughed to hide the smile on her lips behind her hand. "You're welcome too," she said. "An thank you for kissing me on the mouth," he said. "I always wondered what that would be like. I see why folks do that so much now." "You've never been kissed?" She gawked at him. "I have now." He grinned. "It was almost the best part." "Oh," she said weakly. "You're welcome." "I'm gonna miss that part the most, I think," he said frowning slightly. "I mean I can do the rest by myself, but you pretty much have to have somebody else there if you're gonna kiss and such." He leaned over and looked both ways conspiratorially. "Lula Mae kisses her pillow all the time at night, but if you ask me I don't think that's the same thing at all. Not since you kissed me like that." Angela's nostrils flared as she caught his scent from being so close to him. She stepped back. "Good night, Dub," she said. "Night," he said with a wide smile. "See you around, maybe." And then, just like that, he was gone. Angela leaned against the door for half a minute while her brain tried to sort the myriad images, memories and emotions that seemed to be flying at her like a hurricane-whipped rain. Hoping to distract herself, she went to the living room and curled up in a big overstuffed chair with a book, but she couldn't concentrate on the words. She gave up and went to bed, but even that didn't work, because she just stared into the darkness, remembering the feel of his skin against hers ... and the way his lips tasted ... and, most of all, the feel of his big finger deep inside her, making her feel like she had finally experienced a real orgasm. ------- Weeks went by. After the operation She visited Bob in the hospital. "Hear you been doing a bang up job," he said. "Oh?" "Holly came to see me too." He grinned. "Ah," she smiled. "Good to know I can relax, but you know you can call me if you need some advice." "I will," she said. "Good. Now, go on. Nurse Wilkenson is on duty. I think she's sweet on me and I'm going to try to con her into giving me a sponge bath. I don't want you cramping my style." "You're awful," she laughed. "I'm getting old and it's been a long time. Can't pass up a chance when I get one." He grinned. "You're not that old," she laughed. "Tell that to my..." He didn't finish. "Never mind. You just go on and have some fun in town before you have to go back to Turkey Hollow." She waved and took his advice. ------- She passed the sign that said "Turkey Hollow Population 1568." It was barely legible, and looked like it might have been stuck on the post that held it when Bob was a boy. She knew there were more than fifteen hundred people in town now. The mines had brought jobs, and the men who worked the mines all had families. She thought of Dub as she passed the feed mill and, as if fate had snapped his fingers, felt the car lurch as she heard a loud bang. The steering got hard immediately and she pulled over to the side of the road, cursing softly. She got out and looked at the right front tire, which was shredded. She knew the theory of changing a tire, but had never actually done it. She was bent over, half in and half out of the trunk, struggling with the heavy spare tire when a voice spoke at her side. "Need some help?" She looked up to see Dub standing there. "I was just thinking of you," she said. She felt heat creep into her face as he smiled widely. "I mean I saw the feed mill, and I know you work there." "Yup," he said. "I've been thinkin' about you too." He hadn't been driving by the clinic, so his meaning was much more clear than hers had been. "And now here you are." He sounded happy that she'd had a flat. "I don't want to keep you from your job," she said, trying to convince herself that she wanted him to go away. "Just got off work," he said. "I was on my way out the door when I heard the tire go. Ain't right fer you to get that pretty dress all messed up. I'll do it." She stood back and her eyes widened as he casually reached into the trunk with one hand and lifted the tire out like it weighed a pound or two. He set it on the ground and got the jack out. She watched as he jacked the car part way up and loosened the nuts before jacking it up some more. "So how are things at home?" she asked, trying to make conversation. "Not so good," he said. "What's wrong?" she asked, concerned that someone was ill." "I kind of got in trouble with Lula Mae." "What happened?" He was intent on starting the nuts and turning them. "I was in the bathroom, takin' care of my problem, an she said she had to pee and couldn't wait and just barged right on in. She seen what I was doin'." "How embarrassing," said Angela softly. "I guess so," he said, reaching for the lug wrench. "She laughed and said Jed does it too. She said she helped him one time in the lawnmower shed at the school, and then she offered to help me too." "Uh oh," said Angela. "Yeah," he grunted. "An it felt almost as good as when you do it, except we didn't kiss or nothin' an I didn't make her feel good too. An she liked it, an she showed Darcy how to do it in the tub, and then Mamma caught us all." "Oh Dub," said Angela, disappointed in him, but feeling sorry for him at the same time. "So what happened?" "I have to sleep with Mamma now," he said calmly. "And she watches us take baths, and then makes me stay in the bathroom until my pecker is soft." "Well, actually it sounds like things worked out fairly well," said Angela, amazed that hearing about a young man sleeping with his mother would seem so unremarkable to her. "Yeah, 'cept sometimes it's hard to get it to shoot, an I have to stay in there a long time, and them Mamma keeps yellin' at me to hurry up, and that makes it even harder to get finished." "Oh. That's too bad," said Angela, imagining him naked, standing in a tiny bathroom, his hand slicking up and down his gorgeous thick penis. Dub gave the wrench a push on the last nut and there was a creaking metallic sound. He stood up. "Should be good now. You can get another tire at the feed mill. It's where I work. It's over there." He pointed across the street. She smiled. "I know where it is, Dub." Her eyes dropped and she saw the swelling that strained the fabric of his jeans. Without thinking about it she spoke. "Are you hard now, Dub?" "Yes Ma'am," he said. "Soon as I saw you it got that way." "Well, you know what to do now. Just go on home and ... um ... spend some time in the bathroom." "Cain't," he said. "I got chores to do, and they take me right up until supper. Maybe I kin do that while the girls do their homework, unless Mamma thinks I need to sit with them for that and do homework too. That's kind of how I'm gettin' ready for that GED test thing Mamma wants me to take. The girls kind of teach me whatever it is they learned in school each day, an we all do their homework together." "And after that it's probably bath time," said Angela. "Yes Ma'am." "Could you call me Angela, please, Dub? Every time you call me 'ma'am' I feel a year older." "I'll try," he said. "I sure would like to stay and talk to you ... um ... Angela, but I should probably get on home so I can start my chores." "I made you late with my flat tire," said Angela. "It's all right," he said. "Mamma says I'm supposed to help folks." "Hop in and I'll take you home," said Angela. "It's the least I can do." "That'd be mighty nice," said Dub, and he climbed into the front seat of her SUV. She asked where he lived and when he told her she stared over at him for a few seconds. "That's miles away, Dub!" "Uh huh," he said, staring straight ahead. "And you walk it every day?" "Uh huh," he said, unconcerned. "In the rain? And snow?" "Oh it don't hardly ever snow around here," he said, smiling. He reached down and adjusted himself. "Are you still hard?" She couldn't believe she had asked him again. "Yeah," he said, still unconcerned. She slowed as she decided she was insane. She had to be insane, because of what she was thinking. "Is there any place private around here?" she asked. "Someplace we could park and nobody would see us?" "Is something wrong?" he asked, looking more alert. "No," she said. "It's just that I feel bad that you'll have to go so long without ... um ... without having a chance to take care of your erection." "Oh," he said. "So you want someplace private where I can do it before you get me home." He smiled. "Why didn't I think of that?" "So is there?" she asked again. "Someplace private?" He told her to keep going and the pointed to a dirt track that left the road. She drove up it and around a corner into a pasture. She turned around so the car was pointed back toward the exit, and then turned it off. Dub was already fumbling with his jeans, and apparently intended to just jerk off while sitting in her front seat. "There's a lever on the side of the seat," she said. "Pull it and the seat will lay back." He found the lever, leaned back, and then freed his prick, which jutted up from the bottom of his zipper. His balls were still covered, but he didn't seem to mind. His hand came to stroke. "I sure am glad you showed me this," he said, looking over at her. His eyes dipped to her breasts and she felt her face flush. "You are?" She felt silly sitting there, watching. She realized she was horny, but was unwilling to do anything about it. "Oh yeah," he said. "I only been able to do it a few times, but it feels so good when it shoots out." "Yes," she said, thinking of his prick erupting like she knew it could. It occurred to her he would be making a mess in her car. She looked around for something she could give him to catch his spend, but the car was empty. "I don't suppose you'd..." He was breathing more heavily now, and still staring at her breasts. "I guess it wouldn't really hurt anything." She reached for the buttons of her blouse. They came loose easily and she pulled the cups toward each other to undo the front catch. The air felt good on her hot breasts as she bared them to him. She felt her face get hot as he stared in obvious appreciation at her chest. "Oh," he said, licking his lips. "That's real nice ... but I meant..." "What?" she asked, resisting the urge to pinch her nipples. He just reached for her hand and brought it to his shaft. She knew then what he wanted, and suddenly she wanted to feel it in her hand again too. She gripped, and tugged up and down a few times. "Oh yeeeahhh," he sighed, letting his head fall back on the headrest. "You do that so good." She felt slightly insane as her mouth uttered "Thank you." "Can you go a little faster?" he panted. "Faster?" She felt like she was beginning to pant too. "I found out the faster I go, the quicker it will spurt," he said. "Oh. All right," she sighed. She sped up, which necessitated gripping him more firmly. "Are you sure?" she asked. "Doesn't that hurt?" "Oh no," he groaned. "That feels sooooo good. Keep goin'. It's gonna happen!" What Angela did then was, she decided later, a combination of some instinct she'd have sworn she didn't have, and the lingering concern about what would happen to her car if his penis spurted uncontrollably all over the place. The trigger was a bead of clear liquid that oozed out of the hole in the tip as she watched her hand flash up and down along his hard member. The memory of that odd, not unpleasant taste from before presented a solution to her problem and, as he went stiff and banged his head back into the headrest, she leaned over and sealed her lips over the head of his cock. His groan of delight turned into a strangled kind of sound as she automatically sucked and was rewarded with a mouthful of warm, creamy liquid. With just her lips sealed around the tip, she had no trouble obeying the instinct to swallow, and did so several times as he continued to refill her mouth. It all happened so quickly that, when the urge to gag hit her, the fact she had already swallowed three times overcame it and she was able to suppress it. It was only then that the taste registered, much stronger this time, but just as pleasant as before. Within seconds she found herself sucking happily, hoping to get even more of his tasty juice. It was just then that a rapping came on the window beside Dub's right shoulder. Angela looked up to see a grinning face peering into the window. That face was topped by what was unmistakably a uniform cap. Further, the shoulders below the face were wearing a dark blue uniform that matched the cap. A silver badge was barely visible on the man's chest. ------- Chapter 4 There was a flurry of activity in the car, during which Dub managed to roll his window down. "Well what do we have here?" asked the policeman. "Uh ... um ... I can explain!" stammered Angela. Dub was still attempting to get his pants done back up and put his penis away. Angela pulled her blouse together and tried to button it. "You're the new doctor, ain't you?" asked the officer. Angela felt dread settle in her stomach. "Yes," she admitted miserably. The cop looked at Dub. "Things seem to be looking up for you, Dub." "Howdy, Ezra," said Dub. "I can explain!" moaned Angela again. "No need," said the policeman Dub obviously knew on a first name basis. "You're free, white and over eighteen, and so is old Dub here. I thought you might be kids. They come up here to park sometimes. Never seen no adults neckin' up in here, though. Mostly folks do that sort of thing at home." "We didn't come here to neck," objected Angela. "I could see that," said Ezra, grinning widely. "I'll just be getting along and leave you two love birds alone again." "But..." Angela spluttered. "Unless you want me to stay and watch," offered Ezra. "No!" barked both Angela and Dub at the same time. Ezra laughed and stood up. "Didn't think so, but you never know. Welcome to town, Doc. Might bring my wife over to the clinic one of these days. She could use some pointers on what you wuz just doin' to Dub." "PLEASE!" yipped Angela frantically. "You can't tell anybody about this! This is a treatment for Dub's condition!" "Sure it is," laughed Ezra. "Is this condition he has catchin'? Cause I don't think I'd mind havin' that problem, seeing as how the treatment looks like it might not hurt at all." He grinned again. Angela was terrified, and it quite possibly showed, because the lawman put up a hand to stop her from saying anything else. "What you and Dub do is your business. You probably ought to keep it indoors if you want it to stay your business, but I won't spread it around. Dub and I grew up together, and it's high time he had him a lady friend. I was startin' to get worried that he didn't like girls. Your secret is safe with me." "Thank you," Angela almost sobbed. "I wasn't kidding about bringing Chelsey around to get some learnin' though," said Ezra. "Would that be all right?" Angela, grasping at any hope that her life could go on without scandal, nodded frantically. She would agonize about that later, but all she felt at the moment was relief. "Good," said the man. "Y'all have a good day now, hear?" ------- Angela stopped in front of the faded, but neatly kept house. As Dub got out she saw the curtains move in the window facing the car. "Thanks for the ride," said Dub. "I'm sure sorry about Ezra." "It would have helped if you'd have told me that was the local makeout place," said Angela, still grumpy. "I ain't never been there before," he said. "I just heard about it all the time, so when you said something that's where I thought of. Don't be mad at me, please?" She sighed. "I'm not mad at you." "Good," he said, sounding relieved. "And thanks for helping me out with my problem again." "You're welcome," she said automatically. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to make you feel good too." "That's all right, Dub," she said patiently. "An I'm really sorry I didn't get a chance to kiss you too." "Dub, go inside. You have chores to do." "Right!" he said, standing up. "OK. Don't forget to get that tire fixed." "I won't. Good night, Dub." "Night Doc. I mean Angela." He smiled, and then turned and ran to the front door, which opened for him as he got there. His mother was standing there peering out toward the car. Angela waved, and got what might have been a nod from the woman. Then she drove home, trying to decide whether what had happened was a catastrophe, or something she'd remember for the rest of her life. She corrected herself as she parked. She would definitely remember it for the rest of her life. The only thing in question was whether it would end up being a good or bad memory. ------- The next day was Saturday, so Angela didn't have to go to work. After a liesurely brunch she decided to get the tire taken care of. It wasn't until she was walking in the door of the sales area of the feed mill that it occurred her that her secret might not be a secret any more. She was fully aware that men liked to brag about their conquests, particularly to those they worked with. She almost turned around to leave, but a man was already approaching her. "What can I do for you, Miss?" he asked. She hesitated briefly, but saw nothing in his eyes except interest in making a sale. "I ruined a tire," she said. "Well we have tires," the man smiled. "Let's just go take a look." She took him to the car and opened the trunk. "Yup, it's ruined all right," he said. He leaned over, running his finger along some numbers printed on the tire. "I think we got something that size in stock. Let's go see." She followed him back inside, where he went behind the counter and started pecking at the keyboard of a computer. "Haven't seen you before," he said casually. "You from out of town?" "I just moved here a few months ago," she said. "You do much highway driving?" "Probably not," she said. "I mean I'm not planning any trips or anything." He stopped typing. "I've got a Uniroyal in stock that's pretty close to that tread pattern. It's a mid range tire. I could get something cheaper, but I'd have to order it. I don't think you need anything fancier than the Uniroyal." "How much is it?" she asked. "Mounted and balanced I can give it to you for a hundred and twelve even." "That seems like a lot," said Angela, who had never actually bought tires before. He smiled politely. "I just quoted you the one I have in stock. I can get you the cheaper tire by next Thursday. It's up to you." "OK," she said. "I just need it fixed so I don't have to worry. Let's do it today." "Good enough," he said. She gave him the keys and wandered around, looking at all the things that most farm stores have, but which she had never seen before. She began to have fun trying to figure out what things were used for when the man approached her again. "I'm sorry," he said. "It turns out the garage is kind of full up on the schedule. It's going to be some time before we can get to your car." "How long?" she asked. "Might be three or four hours," he said, "I'm real sorry." "I don't want to hang around here for three or four hours," Angela moaned. "I could make you an appointment for later next week if you want," he said. "Or I could get one of the boys to give you a ride to wherever you want to go, and then we'll come get you when your car is done." "That would be all right," she said. "Giving me a ride, I mean." "No problem," he said. "Be right back." She felt a chill when she looked up and saw the man heading toward her with a big smile on his face ... followed by Dub Fisher. She expected the man to make some kind of snide comment, but was both surprised and relieved when he said "Dub here will take you wherever you need to go." "Hi, Doc!" said Dub, artlessly. "Doc?" asked the man. "This here is Doctor Webber," said Dub. The man looked at her. "Oh, you're that new doctor in town, right? The one that Doc Kimble took on?" "Yes," she said, fighting to keep the tremor out of her voice. "Well Hell, why didn't you say so," said the man. "I'm sure I can shave a few dollars off that tire. Got to take care of those that take care of us, don't you know." He grinned widely and stuck his hand out. She shook it, relieved that he apparently didn't know how Dub knew her, or didn't care. "Take her anywhere she needs to go, Dub," he went on. "We don't have any big deliveries scheduled. You can run her on all her errands if you need to. Her car won't be ready until closing time." He turned to Angela. "You can trust Dub, ma'am. He's a good boy. And he can introduce you around too, so folks will know who you are. We take care of our own in Turkey Hollow." ------- Angela climbed into a dusty, rusty pickup truck with the logo of the feed mill on the side in faded and chipped paint. Dub got in the driver's seat and started the motor, which started smoothly and was surprisingly quiet. "I didn't think I'd see you again for a while," he said. "You didn't tell them about us," she said. "Tell who?" "That man back there, for one," she said. "Willard? Of course not. You told me not to tell anybody, so I ain't." She looked over at him. He had his eyes on the road as he maneuvered the truck out of the parking lot and onto the road. "Thank you," she said. "You're welcome," he responded, completely serious. "Where to?" "The tire was all I had planned," she said. "Home, I guess." They rode on in silence that, rather than being tense, was somewhat companionable. Eventually Angela spoke. "So ... how are things at home?" "They're fine," said Dub. "Mamma's keeping a tight rein on the girls." "Isn't it odd sleeping with your own mother?" she asked. "Well, I could hear her snore when I slept in the other room," he said. "It's really loud right next to me, but I'm gettin' used to it I reckon." Angela laughed. "At least you aren't having to put up with two teenage girls who are ... um ... fascinated with your penis," she said. "That's true," he agreed. "It's kind of a relief not to have to be so careful." "So are you having fewer erections?" "No, I couldn't say that," he said. "Oh," she said. "I forgot about the baths." "Yeah," he agreed. "And then there's all the times I think about you. I'm probably stiff offener than I ever was before." She stared at him. "You think about me?" "All the time," he said calmly. "Cain't really help it for some reason." He slowed and made the turn into Bob's driveway. She looked at his lap. His jeans bulged. "You're stiff now, aren't you?" she asked softly. "Yeah," he sighed. "I don't do it on purpose, though." "I know," she said. The fact that she DID know he wasn't intentional about it was what made him so attractive. She opened the door and got out. He started to put the truck in reverse. She felt a wild urge and spoke before she thought. "Turn it off, Dub," she said. "You better come inside." ------- She knew it was dangerous, but she got him completely naked again. She couldn't resist running her hands over his muscular body, and her eyes drank in his beauty as she did so. She saved his straining prick for last, savoring the thought of making it perform. She laid him on her bed, and continued to let her fingertips flutter across his hard body. His hands tentatively touched her, first on her shoulder, and then her upper chest. It was obvious he wanted to touch her breasts and, when she first leaned over to lower her lips onto his, she took his hand and pressed it to her left breast. She intended to stay clothed, but only because she knew that would be safer. She actually WANTED to strip naked and rub her body against his. It wasn't that she didn't trust him. She did. It was herself that she was afraid of. Already her pussy craved the feel of something she could only imagine, but which she somehow knew would be fulfilling in a way she had never experienced. And, while his finger had been all she ever needed so far, she knew that things had a way of getting out of hand. He grunted with surprise as her tongue flickered out and ran across his upper teeth. Within minutes their tongues dueled ceaselessly. She was so distracted that she didn't even realize he'd unbuttoned her shirt until he pushed it back off her shoulders. Shuddering, she worked her arms to be rid of the confining garment. She still had her bra on ... and her jeans. It was still fine. And now she could feel at least a little of his skin against hers. She climbed up on top of him and lowered her upper body to his as their long kiss extended even more. Both were breathing through their noses now, unwilling to pull their lips apart to snatch a full breath. Their noses almost whistled with the effort to get enough air to satisfy excited lungs. His hands slid up and down her almost bare back and stopped at her bra. Before she could break away to tell him "No!" her bra tightened and then went loose. Her shock at his skill was enough to make her break the kiss. "How did you get so good at undoing a bra?" she gasped, pushing up with her arms. "I undo all the bras at our house," he said, pulling the bra off her shoulders. His eyes went to her hanging breasts and he licked his lips. She felt a ball of heat expand in her loins at his obvious appreciation of her form. She let him remove it completely and, on impulse, scooted up to press a breast to his face. When his lips found and fastened around the nipple, and he sucked instinctively, the streaks of pleasure that shot to her belly told her she was losing control. "Damn," she gasped. He stopped, letting the nipple slip from his lips and she almost cursed again because of it. "Am I hurting you?" he asked. She pressed the breast against his mouth again, insistently this time, mashing down. "No," she panted. "Keep doing that." Her hand searched for his prick. She found it pressed against the crotch of her jeans. ------- They finally had to break what seemed like the hours long kiss, because both were getting light headed from breathing only through their nostrils. Her hand was still gripping his prong, but that's all it was doing. She already knew what she wanted to do to get him to spurt. She could almost taste him already. She looked him in the eyes. "Did you like it ... the other day ... when I put my mouth on you?" she asked. He nodded seriously. "I liked that a lot," he said. "I would have liked it more except Ezra came along. She closed her eyes, reliving the shame and fear, and hearing the man say "Mostly folks do that sort of thing at home." Well ... she WAS home now, and she couldn't wait to explore this new thing she had been so sure she would never, ever do. "I want to do that again," she said. He blinked and nodded. She got off of him and knelt on all fours beside him, topless, but still in her jeans. She felt silly, but she didn't care. "Wait," he said as she reached for his leaning member. She looked up at his face. "Chucky," he went on, "The one I told you about who told me what he did with Jenny Masters?" She nodded. Dub's face looked unsure suddenly, but he kept going. "He told me about something else they did. She did that for him ... with her mouth ... an he did it for her too." Angela blinked. Quite suddenly she felt things move in her loins and a feeling as if her stomach was growling ... except it wasn't her stomach. She felt a rush of moisture and knew she needed to change her panties. She knew what he was talking about, of course, but she'd never thought any man would want to do that with her. Her brain seemed to turn inside her skull as she remembered she had been sure she'd never want to suck a man's penis either. She got off the bed and stood, not quite frozen. Conflicting desires rendered her incapable of coming to a clear decision on what to do. He sat up smoothly and swung his feet to the side of the bed beside her. She was maybe half a foot farther from him than was convenient, and he leaned forward to grasp her hips and pull her toward him. Her feet moved less than eighteen inches, but she still stumbled and he stabilized her. She looked down as he unsnapped her jeans and pushed the tight material down over her panties to puddle at her ankles. He had to bend over to get her to lift a foot, but then she held it aloft while he pulled the leg off of her foot. Her hand went to his shoulder to help her balance and she marveled at how hot and smooth his skin felt. He repeated the actions for the other leg and tossed the jeans to one side. His hands came back to her hips and rested there gently as he looked up and down her body. He leaned forward and inhaled deeply. "You smell good," he said softly. She knew that what he was smelling was what had made her suddenly wet down there, but she was past caring. All she could feel was the terrible excitement of anticipation and fear, mingled in almost equal amounts. When his hands started pulling her panties down, she started panting in short, gasping breaths. "I won't hurt you," he said. "I know," she gasped. "I've just ... I've never done this before." "Me either," he said, sliding the panties down to her ankles. This time she lifted her feet, anxious to get the damp garment off her body. She still didn't know what to do, and simply stood, wanting something to happen, but terrified that it would. She jerked as he leaned forward to suckle at a nipple again and leaned into him. "Ahhhhhhh," she moaned as the thrills seemed to fill her body. He changed nipples and it felt so good she got impatient and pushed him back onto the bed. He grinned and wiggled his way back to lie full length. She crawled onto the bed, but didn't know what to do next, and just stood there on hands and knees, looking at his jutting prick. He reached both hands for her waist and suddenly she was flailing in mid air as his muscular arms lifted her up and twisted her until her head was facing his feet. She looked down to see that monster penis coming right at her face and realized he was lowering her. She put her hands down on the bed beside his hips, thinking about how she should go about this thing she was about to do. Then her pussy landed on his face and his mouth began doing things to her that made her incapable of deciding to do anything at all. It took her three orgasms before she remembered she was supposed to be sucking his dick. When she DID remember, she realized she'd been rubbing up and down the stiff column with the side of her face and her hair. He was still unrelentingly slurping, sucking and probing with his tongue. Just as she slid her mouth off the tip of his cock she thought about watching him eating chicken, steadily and without pause until there was nothing left to eat. She laughed for joy and began to explore his penis with her mouth. ------- Chapter 5 They lay side by side again, on their backs, with only their shoulders touching. Both were breathing normally. Oddly, after she had started paying attention to his cock, what he was doing felt wonderful, but didn't result in more orgasms. She hypothesized that was because she was distracted by trying to make him spurt. At first she had only licked and sucked, loving the feel of his hard, smooth flesh in her mouth. Then, as soon as she started using a hand to stroke at the same time she sucked, his body told her that was the right thing to do. Within a few minutes he was bucking and gasping and she knew she'd get to taste him again. This time there would be no interruption, and this time she was intent on fully experiencing the culmination of her efforts. She already knew she liked the taste, and this time she looked forward to it with something like hunger. When it came she slowed her hand strokes only enough to ensure that her lip lock on the tip was secure, and relished the waves of spunk he pumped into her sucking mouth. She swallowed more often this time than last, letting the excess swirl in her cheeks, and swallowing smaller amounts. Her hand slipped down to cup his balls and she squeezed very gently. She knew that would have no effect on the quantity of his ejaculation, but it made her feel like she was getting everything he had to offer. She had spent enough time making sure she got every drop that he was completely flaccid when she finally gave up, his much shortened penis lying forlornly on his mat of brown hair. She got off of him and, quite naturally, lay down with her head by his. She was startled when he pulled her to him for a kiss, first because she hadn't thought he'd want to kiss her after what she'd done, and secondly because her own taste didn't bother her in the least. It was a shorter kiss, though, a less frantic kiss, a more tender kiss. There was a lot of "thank you" in that kiss too, from both sides. Then they had simply lay side by side while they caught their breath. Dub finally broke the silence. "I don't want to get into an argument, but are you sure this ain't sparkin'? Because it seems to me like it MUST be sparkin'. I mean if it isn't, then I cain't even imagine what sparkin' is." Angela tried to imagine herself, introducing Dub as her boyfriend to the people who had recently been her friends or peers. She felt shame as she realized she'd be embarrassed. But she also felt anger as she realized that, while she didn't know exactly what they were doing, she was no longer intent on curtailing it. Besides. her friends weren't here, working in an underserved rural area where people did the best they could with what they had. She'd been paid in CHICKENS, for pity's sake! And she LIKED Dub, whether he was educated, or urbane or not. He was a sweet, gentle, caring man. How many women got a chance at one of those? She rolled over to face him. "What does it mean if we ARE sparkin' each other?" She winced at her adoption of his word for courtship. "Well, I reckon it means we're serious, and ain't gonna fool around with nobody else," he said. "Are you going to fool around with anybody else?" she asked. He laughed. "No ma'am," he said. "Me either," she said. "Wow." He seemed awed. "So what's next?" she asked. "Are there rules to this sparkin' thing?" "Well," he said, "when you're sparkin' somebody you bring 'em home to meet your folks and all that, and the mothers get together and talk about something or other. I don't know what that is, but they always do. An then it works out and you get hitched, or it don't work out and you hate each other from then on." "I don't want to hate you, Dub," said Angela, "but I think it's a little premature to be talking about marriage." "Marriage," he said softly. "That kinda scares me. I never thought about it before. Not really." "I wasn't planning on getting married either," said Angela. "I wasn't planning on doing anything we've done." "I'm sorry," he said automatically. "I'm not unhappy, Dub," she said. "This is just all new to me, and unplanned, and I don't know what I want to do." "I hope you want to keep letting me come over here," he said without guile. "I'll bet you do," she laughed. "I mean it," he said seriously. "I ain't never felt this good, nor wanted to be around a woman this much." "I understand that," she said softly. "I understand that only too well." "What should we do?" he asked, sounding helpless. She rolled over and pressed her breasts to his side. "I think we ought to make our own sparkin' rules," she said. ------- They stayed in bed until it was time for him to take her back to pick up her car. During that time they talked about things. The easy part was that they both wanted to keep seeing each other. There were hard parts, though. "I feel bad," said Angela. "I want to be with you, but I don't want people to know, and that's not very nice of me." "I get that," he said easily. "I know I ain't got nothin' to offer a woman. 'Specially one like you." "That's not true," she said. "Any woman would be lucky to have you." He laughed. "Don't you laugh, Dub Fisher!" she said, rolling over and poking him with a finger. It felt like she was trying to press her finger into a tree stump. "You're kind, and gentle and sweet, and that's something men could use a lot more of." He sobered. "I know I ain't smart and flashy, then," he said. She frowned. "I shouldn't WANT you to be smart and flashy. I should take you just like you are. That's why I feel bad. I'm not quite there yet. I should be. I'm a horrible woman because I'm not, but at least I can be honest with you." "I don't think you're a horrible woman," he said. "I am," she insisted. He reached for her and pulled her up on top of him. She yelped in surprise as his rough hand landed hard on her left butt cheek. "Is one swat enough, or do you need a longer spankin' for being so terrible?" he asked. "That's not funny!" she complained, reaching to rub at the sore spot. "You hit me hard, Dub!" "You want me to kiss it all better?" he asked, smiling. "You'd probably miss and kiss me somewhere else," she accused. "I 'spect I might at that," he said. "You're tasty enough to make that real temptin'" "Why do you do that to me?" she moaned. "Do what?" "Make me feel so horny!" she accused. "Me talkin' about kissing you there makes you horny?" He raised his eyebrows. "Yes!" she pouted. "Then I want to lick it and taste it and make you squeal like last time," he said immediately. "Dub!" "There's this little bump kind of thing there, and when I suck on it you squeal a lot." He went on. "And if I do it just right, you squirt good tastin' stuff right in my mouth and I love that." "Dub!" she moaned. "Let me do it again," he urged. "I know you like it. Let me make you feel good." "We don't have time," she said, looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand. "My car will be ready in forty-five minutes." "If you're not suckin' on my tallywhacker I think I can do a better job," he said, pushing her off of him. He rolled up onto his hands and knees and got between her thighs, spreading them apart and staring at her sexual center. "Dammit, Dub, this isn't fair," she moaned. Instead of arguing, he simply plunged his face between her legs. Her hips arched up off the bed to meet him, already anticipating the glorious feel of his tongue doing those amazing things to her. She was astonished at how different it felt, lying on her back, not engaged in anything except feeling what he was doing to her. He found her clit and when she yipped he concentrated on it, licking, nosing, even nipping at it gently with his teeth. And the orgasms washed over her in an unending wave of ecstasy. More than once she realized she was squealing, but she didn't care. He deserved it, because he was making her crazy with an overabundance of joy. Then he stopped and reared up to stand on his knees. His penis was angled upwards, so hard was it. "NOW it's getting late," he panted, his whole face shiny with her juices. "Gimme just a minute." He gripped his cock and jerked it furiously, making her wince because she was sure that must be painful. But he kept going and remarkably soon he groaned, arched his back and then hunched over, carefully aiming his tool. From frantic jerking he went to stopping completely, and then moving his hand slowly to the tip while a sound built in his throat. Then he jerked back twice rapidly and a stream of semen leapt from the tip of his cock to paint a strip between her mons and breasts. A tortured "Uhhhhhhh" ripped from his throat and he jerked twice again, getting another long spurt to land beside the first. As if he were becoming weak, he fell forward, catching himself on his left arm, hovering over her as his right hand jerked two more streams of spunk out of his prick. With less force behind them, they didn't go quite as far, making a puddle between her belly button and pubic hair. She lifted her head and her hand at the same time, thinking she was just going to keep it from running down her side and getting on the bed. Instead she froze as she saw a long last drip ooze out of his cock and fall unerringly between pussy lips that were still open. Seeing his sperm actually drip into her pussy caused an explosion of heat in her body and she felt like she might burn up. He listed to one side and began to fall, turning sideways to land beside her. Suddenly she needed one more orgasm, to bring things to a close and, as he was obviously out of it, she thought nothing of running her hand between her legs and rubbing furiously, probing and pinching as her hips bucked one last time. It wasn't until she fell back, limp and satisfied, that she realized the hand she had just pleasured herself with was covered with his ejaculate, and that she had pushed it up into her body. ------- Angela took what had happened seriously. Not that she was worried she was at risk of pregnancy. She was at as safe a time in her cycle as there was. What worried her was that she had liked the feel of it. She had liked rubbing his essence into her skin ... into her sex. She knew it was merely a biological urge that her subconscious was promoting, but the fact was that she liked what Dub Fisher did to her, and that was dangerous. It helped that Bob was released from the hospital to finish recuperating at home. With the older man being there again it made it impossible for Angela to get Dub into a really private situation where things could get out of hand. One of the things they had decided was that, whenever it worked out for them both, she would pick him up and give him a ride home. Not that she picked him up AT the mill, or delivered him right TO his house. Most often she was waiting around the curve in the road from the feed mill and he simply walked up to the car and got in. And she dropped him off at various places a block or two from his house. Between those times, they alternated pleasuring each other. That was one of their self made "courtin' rules." It was too dangerous when they were both naked, as much fun as that was. So the way Angela dealt with that was that only one of them would get naked, or partially naked. One day she would find a place out of the public eye and lie in the back seat, her legs spread while his mouth produced three or four orgasms. The next day she'd let him drive and use the time bent over, sucking his prick lovingly while he took the scenic route towards home. Both were happier than they'd been before, but these moments of snatched pleasure weren't quite enough to satisfy what each was feeling for the other on a deeper level. Nature will take her due, sooner or later. Whether sooner or later depends on fate. As fate would have it, the day of mother nature's payback dawned both innocently and unremarkably. It happened on a Friday, when Angela gave Dub a long, drawn out blow job while he drove the car up into the hills and back again. When she sat back up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, and then licking what she'd cleaned off, Dub sighed. "I sure wish there was a way we could see each other on the weekends," he said. "Me too," she said, licking her lips. She wished they had time for him to lick her pussy, because she wanted to cum in the worst way. "It wouldn't matter this weekend," he said. "The freezer is empty and it's time for me to go hunting and fishing again to fill it back up." "You have a freezer?" Angela was surprised. She was aware there was very little technology in the Fisher household. There was very little money to buy it with, for one thing, but Mamma Fisher was saving every penny she could in hopes that one of the girls could go to college. "Yup," he said. "Mamma bought that instead of a TV. She said the TV would make us all idiots, but the freezer would let us eat good." "Your mother is a smart woman," said Angela. "Yeah, she is." He turned a corner. "We're almost there. Want to switch over now?" "I suppose so," she said. She always felt like she was sneaking around when she dropped Dub off, as if she wasn't supposed to be seeing him. What made her feel even worse was that she WAS sneaking around, but only because of her own stubborn pride. He pulled the car over and got out. She brushed past him as she walked around the car and wanted to kiss him. But they were in public now. Being seen with him was one thing. Had anyone asked, their story was that she was giving him driving lessons. Since he already had a license that was pretty lame, but most folks who know Dub also knew there was no family car, so they might be willing to believe none of the Fishers had a license either. But teaching a young man to drive didn't require passionate kisses in front of the car. "See you Monday," she said sadly. "Yeah." He started away and then stopped. "Hey!" He spun around. "Why don't you come with me?" "Come with you?" "This weekend ... hunting and fishing." "Dub I don't know anything about either of those things," she said. "I can teach you," he said. "And we'll get to spend all that time together." From Angela's point of view, admittedly tinted (or perhaps tainted) by her city upbringing, what that suggested was a two day/one night campout in the woods, probably in some charming little cabin somewhere, which sounded harmless, by virtue of the fact that Dub would be there to protect her from bears and mountain lions and other dangerous man-eating beasts. Maybe there would be a fireplace, where they could sit and talk and drink hot chocolate. That would be romantic. And, more importantly, she would be able to suck the prick she was now addicted to, and get her pussy licked for more than ten minutes at a time. "Why not?" she said firmly. "I don't have anything else to do. I've been bored silly the last few weekends. And I can even tell Doc Kimble what I'm doing. He's been urging me to explore." She wanted to jump up and down. "Okay!" Dub grinned widely. From his point of view, of course, it was a chance to teach his paramour how to hunt and fish which, of course, is every man's dream. That he could get his dick sucked more often than once a day played into his reasoning but, quite honestly, it was secondary. He wanted badly to be able to display some kind of worth and intelligence to this woman he was in such awe of. "Okay," he said. "You know that bridge we parked at? The one that goes over the Nashua river?" She nodded. "Meet me there tomorrow morning." "Okay," she said. "What time." "Four should do it," he said. She blinked. "Four what?" "Four o'clock," he said. "In the MORNING?" she whined. "Got to get an early start. We got to hunt AND fish this weekend." She swallowed. "Oh ... all right," she said. "But there better be time for other things too." He grinned. "Oh there will be. Once you set a pole you can just leave it for a while. We'll have all the time we need for everything that needs doin'." ------- While Bob had encouraged her to get out and do things, Angela didn't want to have to answer too many questions, so she waited until Bob had taken his evening pain medication and was drifting off to sleep to tell him of her weekend plans. "One of the locals is taking me fishing," she said. "Do you good," he mumbled. "Got a pole in the garage." Then he nodded off and started to snore softly. She assumed Dub would take care of everything in terms of what she'd need, and that all she would have to do was show up with a single suitcase containing her clothes and any makeup she might need. She got that ready and went out to the garage. Searching around didn't reveal anything that looked like a fishing pole, though, so she gave up and went to bed. She was excited about trying something new, and didn't even mind setting the alarm for an hour she would otherwise have cringed at. The clock, living up to it's name, alarmed her when it went off, but she recovered quickly and, as quietly as possible, got dressed in her hiking clothes and left the house. It only took ten minutes to get to the bridge. She was astounded to see Dub already standing there, various bundles at his feet. She got out in time to be gathered into his arms and crushed while he kissed her lustily. By the time he pulled his lips away she was already horny enough to want some release then and there, but she disciplined herself. "Did I make you wait long?" she asked. "Just got here ten minutes ago," he responded. "Let's go." The only real problem, depending on how you define "problem," is that Dub, while he put his pack, rifle and fishing equipment in the trunk of her car, neglected to take an inventory of her gear ... such as, for instance, her sleeping bag. Perhaps he was distracted by that kiss too, which had produced a typical erection in his pants. But, like Angela, he suppressed the desire to do something about it. Instead, he got in the car and told her where to go. ------- Angela's paucity of camping gear became apparent when the trunk was unpacked and Angela stood expectantly, holding her suitcase. "Where's your pack?" asked Dub. "Pack?" "You know ... like this?" He lifted his huge backpack off the ground as if it weighed twenty pounds instead of seventy. "Dub, I've never been camping in my life," she said. "Why would I have a pack?" "Oh." He frowned and then shrugged. "We'll be Okay. That thing will probably get heavy to carry like that, though." He pointed at the suitcase hanging from her hand. "I'll be fine," she said. Half an hour later she wished she hadn't said that, because despite shifting the suitcase from hand to hand repeatedly, both of her arms felt like they were being pulled from the sockets. "Where are we going again?" she asked. "Got a place I like to set up just up there a ways," said Dub. "A ways" turned out, in Angela's estimation, to be miles. When he finally stopped and shrugged off his pack, she dropped the suitcase with almost explosive relief. The only way she'd been able to keep carrying it at all was by balancing it on her head for the last half hour. Now the top of her head was sore. She didn't say anything, though, and watched as Dub started unpacking an incredible array of things from the bundle he'd carried. She looked around for the cabin, but couldn't see it, which was explained by his next comment. "This is the tent," he said, tossing a small tube to one side. "It's kind of small for two people, but since you didn't bring your own sleeping bag I think we'll do fine." Angela was too tired to pay much attention at that point. She did notice a large coil of rope, though. "Don't tell me we're going to climb a mountain," she moaned. He chuckled. "Naw, that's for hauling our catch up in the trees at night so the critters cain't get to it." "Is that necessary?" she asked, meaning his reference to critters. "I hope so," he said, meaning he hope he had game to haul up. He left most of the equipment in a pile, saying they'd set the tent up later, and handed her two fishing rods. Picking up two more he led her to the river where she watched as he baited the hooks, threw them in the water and secured the poles by piling rocks on top of the handles. She followed him back to their camp, where he picked up the rifle, slung it over his shoulder, and turned to kiss her again. "Let's go get supper," he said when he pulled his lips from hers. What that entailed was, in fact, climbing a mountain as far as Angela was concerned. Dub, with his long legs, ate up the distance easily while she felt like she was trotting along behind him. When he stopped, his deep breaths came half as often as her gasps. "I've sat here before," he said. "Good field of sight." He took the rifle off his shoulder and she watched as he moved a handle looking thing up and then pulled back. She saw the bright glint of brass but then it was gone as he shoved forward again and moved the handle back down. Angela looked around her then, and realized they were on the top of what was actually a small hill surrounded on three sides by larger and larger rises, some of which she would have classified as mountains. It was gorgeous, and suddenly the effort to get there was worth it. "What do we do?" she asked. "We make ourselves comfortable and wait," he said. "We don't move, and don't make too much noise, and pretty soon something will come along. ------- If Angela had looked at her watch she would have found that two hours had passed since she and Dub had settled in and "made themselves comfortable." What that had meant, at first, was that they sat side by side, with Dub looking out in front of them, which gave him a view of vast stretches of the slopes around them. They had talked quietly and, because his eyes continually scanned "out there," it was somehow much easier to talk to him about things in her past. She talked about growing up, what her school was like, and the things she had liked doing as a girl. She remembered friends and talked about them. He asked questions about her classes, which led them to a discussion of what he was learning from his sisters and his GED preparation books. She found out he had a very solid foundation in math and science, though literature and English were giving him problems. Somehow she found herself telling him about the slippery slope of dating, but not being willing to go as far as the boys wanted to go, which had meant she never dated the same boy for very long. "What did they want?" he asked. She thought about it and put it in his terms. "They wanted to have relations." "They wanted to get hitched?" He asked surprised. "No, they just wanted to have relations. Some of them would do that and then break up with the girl and go find a different girl to have relations with." "That ain't right," he said darkly. "That's why I wouldn't do it," she said. "It's really nice to know there are men like you who know how to behave with a woman." "My mamma would skin me alive if I acted like that," he said. "You're a grown man, now, Dub," she said trying to kid around with him. "That don't matter to my mamma," he said. "I'm just glad you don't insist on more than I can give you," she said. He shook his head slowly and gave her a brief glance before returning his eyes to their mission. "What we do is so much fun, and feels so good, I can't imagine what real sex must be like." "With the right person, I expect it's wonderful," she said. "Speakin' of what we do," he said, sparing her another quick glance. "I don't suppose you might be willin' to ... um ... help me with my problem." "Why Dub," she said in mock innocence. "Why would you have that problem way out here in the woods?" "Bein' around you is worse than having my sisters share the bath," he said without looking at her. Feeling the same thrill she always felt when he reacted to her that way, she simply reached for his belt. He scooted to where he could lean back against a rock, getting his pants down around his thighs in the process. Sure enough his boner jutted up proudly. "Won't that hurt?" she asked, eyeing where his naked buns were sitting on dirt and rocks. "Worth it," he said briefly. She lay on her stomach, perpendicular to his legs, got comfortable, and began what she planned to be an hour long love affair with his stiff prick. The sounds he made, quiet as they were, convinced her she was doing a good job. She was playing a new game, where she used her lips to push his foreskin off the head, and then pulled off, using the tip of her tongue to play with the hole in the tip while his foreskin crept forward again, when he stiffened and said quietly "I'm gonna shoot." Surprised, but unconcerned, Angela slipped her mouth over the knob and reached to stroke him, to help him cum and milk all his tasty juice out of him. What he had meant was his rifle. The explosion of sound so startled Angela that she "ducked," which meant she moved her head down, toward the ground forcefully. In the process she drove his prick past her gag reflex and, quite suddenly the terrified woman had a prickhead lodged clear in her throat. She froze, partly because she was coming to grips with the fact he had fired his gun, and partly because what she felt in her throat was so unique it was interesting from a physician's point of view. She had heard of this phenomenon before, but had always believed it was probably embellished. She pulled up a little, and felt her gag reflex start to warn her as the head approached it. She pushed back down, and the feeling went away. She took in air through her nose, amazed at how easy that was to do with her throat full. She was about to experiment some more when Dub said "Got her!," and the realization that he had taken a shot while she was blowing him hit her mind. She jerked her mouth up off him, slightly annoyed that he'd even been ABLE to keep looking for game while she was doing what she'd been doing. He was looking down at her, grinning. "Got a nice doe," he said. "Big one." "While I was sucking you," she said, her voice level. "Uh huh," he said. "Let's go get her." "But you didn't even cum yet," she said. "We can finish that later," he said. "We need to get her dressed out first. The meat will taste better." ------- Chapter 6 It was a very conflicted Angela who followed Dub into camp. She was carrying the rifle, which felt like it must weigh fifty pounds, but she didn't complain because draped over Dub's shoulders like some bizarre neck scarf was the biggest deer Angela had ever seen. Dub's explanation as he gutted and cleaned the deer had taken her back to medical school and dissection studies. She had helped, as he cut various inner parts loose, by pulling them out and piling them up. It had been interesting, and hadn't bothered her at all, though she wasn't sure she'd want to do it by herself. She was relieved to hear that this deer was plenty large enough to satisfy the family's needs for a while. She'd felt silly for thinking he might shoot another one when Dub said "I couldn't carry two of them back home anyway." Once in camp he tied one end of the rope she'd seen earlier to the hind legs and hauled the entire deer up into a tree. At that point he was covered in blood, which she found both amusing and disconcerting. Her hands were also sticky with blood and offal. "You need a bath," she said, "and I need to wash my hands." "Okay," he agreed amiably. He took her downstream from where the poles had been left and casually stripped naked. Taking his clothes into the river, he washed them. She watched his body move and felt her desire surging back into her body. Determined to claim his attention wholly, she took off her own clothes and went to get in with him. He saw her coming and stood up, grinning widely. On impulse she stopped on the bank and stood, letting him look at her. She watched as his penis thickened and began to engorge with blood, until it hung mostly stiff, but still drooping down. His hand went to stroke it. "Don't touch that!" she barked. "That's my job." "Yeah," he agreed happily. He wrung out his clothes and tossed them negligently on the shore by her feet. "You coming in?" he asked. "Is it cold?" "I don't think so," he said. She daintily stuck a toe in the water, whereupon her other foot slipped in the mud and the next thing she knew her butt hurt and she was sitting in water that was decidedly colder than she had anticipated. She cursed as she scrambled up, rubbing her bottom. Dub was laughing. "Don't you laugh at me you beast!" she shouted. "It was funny!" he said in his defense. "Are you okay?" "Nothing's broken," she said grumpily. "Anything need kissing better?" he asked, his voice leering. "Everything needs kissing better," she said, feeling warm again despite the water around her ankles. He strode over to her and started to take her in his arms, but she pushed at him with both hands. "You're still all bloody," she said. Then she washed him. She had to scrub at the blood that had dried on his shoulders and back, but the rest of him showed no need of her attention. She gave it to him anyway, running her hands over his hard body until she worked her way around him and knelt to get to his now fully stiff prick. The earlier incident, when he shot the doe, came to her mind and she looked at his penis with new eyes. She leaned forward to finish her experimentation. "I thought I was supposed to be kissing you better all over," he said softly. "Are you telling me you don't want me to?" she asked, looking up at him. "No ma'am!" he said firmly. "I can wait if you can wait." She played for a minute or two, but every time she took him in too far her gag reflex kicked in. Finally she decided to try replicating what had happened accidentally, and just thrust her face forward firmly. It worked. Suddenly the tip of his cock was clear in her throat. She took an experimental breath through her nose, and that worked too. "Wow," he sighed. Firmly impaled like this she couldn't look up, and she didn't want to pull back enough to do so. Instead she tried doing what she had been thinking about when he had made her stop earlier. She backed up on inch and then went forward again, fucking her throat with the tip of his prick. It felt so different, and odd, that she did it several more times. "Oh wow," he groaned. His hands came to her head and gripped her hair gently. He helped her move, but she didn't feel threatened, because she was having no trouble breathing. "Man, Angela," he moaned. "If you keep doin' that I'm gonna squirt!" That was exactly what she wanted, so she happily kept moving, until she moved too much one time and triggered a gag. Afraid she'd throw up, she pulled off, coughing and hacking strongly. The urge to hurl passed, though, and she contemplated the wet organ briefly before remembering he was close and reaching to stroke him rapidly. "Cum for me, Dub," she panted. "I want to taste you." "Ohhh Angelaaaaahhh," he moaned. Then she saw the hole in the tip widen and she opened her mouth to let his squirts shoot into it. It was very different this way, and her mouth felt empty. For that reason she leaned forward and sucked in the tip as it finished delivering her treat. She hummed and swallowed happily until he stopped spurting and then pulled off again to milk him, licking at the drops that she coaxed out of him. She looked up. "Now you can kiss me better all over." She stood up and then squealed as he bent over and put his shoulder in her stomach, lifting until she was wiggling, suddenly unable to breathe as he walked out of the water and headed for camp, abandoning their clothes. Once there he put her down, sternly said "Don't move!" and got into a big waterproof bag to pull out his sleeping bag. Pulling at two ties he gripped one end and whipped it, unrolling it with a whoosh. He dropped it, and told her to get on her hands and knees. Wondering what he was doing, she obeyed, and he started kissing up and down her back, licking her skin occasionally, and stroking her with his fingertips. She shuddered as he kissed up to her neck and let her head hang. He was straddling her and his penis hung to drag across her skin as he moved. "Oh Dub," she sighed. "I love this so much." "Me too," he said, and continued. When he got to her buttocks he prodded her pussy with a finger, sliding it in and fingerfucking her while he slid his lips across her lower back. She sagged her belly and let her head down so her ass was up in the air, wiggling her butt and moaning. Then, perhaps tired of playing with her, he flipped her over and dove between her thighs, zeroing in on her clit with his lips and teeth. Within minutes her fingers gripped his hair as she squirted in his mouth, her head rolling from side to side as waves of ecstasy rippled through her body. He kissed her mound over and over as she caught her breath, and finally looked up. "Is that enough, or do you want more?" "I want more later," she said. "Me too," he agreed. "Let's go check the fishing poles. It's almost time for supper, and fresh fish can't be beat." ------- Three of the lines had fish on them and Dub grew excited when he saw one was a respectable sized catfish. The fourth hook was bare. He put the three fish on a stringer and gave it to Angela to hold while he re-baited the hooks and threw them back in the water. Back in camp he gave Angela a thin-bladed sharp knife, saying "It's just like doing the doe, except a little different," and then left her to clean her first fish while he got a fire going and started setting up the tent. Both of them were still naked, but she felt like they were on another planet and didn't worry at all about someone coming along and seeing her. She decided it was much harder than it looked, and that she was in need of another bath when he joined her and, in a few minutes finished what it had taken her half an hour to get started. With practiced flicks of his wrist he cut filets off of the three carcasses and dropped them in a cast iron skillet he'd produced from the pack. He scooped up the entrails of the fish, left in the direction of downstream and came back both empty handed and clean. Angela left him to tend the meal while she went to the river to clean up again herself. Good odors were wafting from camp as she returned, and she found that he had added a little round pot of beans to the fire. The pot was like a small bucket, with a wire bale as its only handle. A lump of tin foil was on the other side of the fire, not actually in the coals. "What's that?" she asked, pointing at the tin foil. "Cornbread," he said. "You're kidding." "If I'm not will you suck me again?" He glanced up and smiled. "I'll suck you again anyway," she said, making a face. "You know that." "It's cornbread. It won't be pretty, but it will taste good," he said. ------- It WAS good. The fish was delicious, hot and flaky. She had never had fish that was so tender and scrumptious. The beans seemed special somehow, and the cornbread, which came out in flat, crumbly pieces, was just dumped into each bowl of beans and eaten with a spoon. When they were done she felt full, but not stuffed. Cleanup was interrupted when he wanted kisses and displayed another boner for her to tend to. She did so happily. After that he cleaned up and said that either they needed to put something on, or go to bed, because it would begin to get cool soon. She glanced at the sun, and judged it was still a couple of hours until dark, so she elected to go for a walk. She put on jeans and a shirt, with no underwear. He did the same and they wandered away from camp, where he taught her things about various plants, and identified trees. They talked, and walked, and stopped to kiss until it was dark. Then they returned to camp, and sat next to the campfire to warm up. It wasn't until they decided to turn in for the night that she realized she'd be sleeping in the same sleeping bag with Dub. ------- It was obvious it was going to be a tight fit. The tent itself was laughingly called a two man tent, but any two men using it together would have to be fast and true friends indeed. It was also obvious they'd never both fit in the bag because Dub was big enough that it would be snug with just him in it. He dealt with that problem by using the blanket normally reserved for wrapping game in, as a ground cloth under them. He padded it with pine needles gathered from under a tree nearby. The sleeping bag was unzipped and spread over them, like a blanket. When the bed was finally ready, and Dub started stripping out of his clothes, Angela balked. "We can't sleep together naked, Dub," she said. "Why not?" he asked. She remembered he slept naked with his sisters all the time. "Because it's too dangerous," she said. "I won't hurt you," he said, frowning. "I know that," she said impatiently. "But if we're naked, it will be too easy to go too far." "We're not going anywhere," he said, now looking puzzled. "I mean we'd want to have sex," she said patiently. "Well, I ain't never done that, but if it's better than what we already done I reckon you're right, cause I'd sure want to do it." "That's the whole point!" she said "You want to do it, and I want to do it, and it will be too easy to give in." "You want to do that?" he asked, suddenly alert. "I didn't mean it that way," she said, suddenly alert herself. "So you don't want to have sex," he said. "That's wrong for us, Dub," she said. "We're not ready for something like that. We shouldn't even be doing what we're doing." "I don't see why not," he said. "Because you're my patient!" she tried to explain. "Okay then, I'll go to a different doctor and then I won't be your patient no more," he said. "Dub!" she said forcefully. "I'm not ready for having relations!" "Okay then," he said easily. "We won't do it." "It's not that easy, Dub," she moaned. "Why?" he asked. "We just go to bed and snuggle and sleep. What's so hard about that?" "Because I'm going to want to have sex, Dub!" she yelled. "I thought you said you didn't want to do that." He frowned. "Are you okay?" She wanted to scream, but didn't. Instead she tried to explain it to him. "I've never had sex before, Dub, but I've wondered what it would be like. I've never been with a man I liked enough to find out. And I like you ... a lot. It would be very very tempting to let you..." She stopped. "It would just be very tempting, okay" He nodded. "And if we did have sex I could get pregnant, and that would be a disaster, so I can't get in there with you naked." He frowned. "So let me see if I got this straight. You thought about having sex, and sort of wanted to, but there wasn't no feller around you wanted to get hitched to, so you didn't. And now you like me, and might want to have sex with me, except you don't want to, which I don't quite understand, but I'll take your word for it, except that if we sleep naked, you'll do it anyway, and that's not good cause you'd get with child maybe, and you'd be mad at yourself cause you don't want that." "That's pretty close," she said. "Well I still think that if we don't want to do it, then we just won't." "Dub, if I you don't let me wear something to bed I swear I'll walk back to the car and go home!" she said. "When did I ever say you couldn't wear something to bed?" he asked, sounding injured. "But you're naked!" she moaned. "That's how I sleep," he said. "You can sleep however you want. I ain't never gonna make you do anything you don't want to, Angela. I like you too." "If you like me, then you'll honor my wishes," she insisted. "Okay then," he said firmly. "I'll do that. Now, can we get to bed? 'Cause it's getting a mite chilly standin' here arguin' about ... I'm not sure what we're arguin' about, but I won't do nothin' to upset you, okay?" Angela said "Okay!" and opened her suitcase. She had packed a particular set of pajamas, planning to tease him with, and then wear while she slept in what she had thought would be a separate bed in a nice, warm cabin. They were summer pajamas, which meant they consisted of loose shorts, similar to boxer shorts, and a loose short sleeved top that had three buttons down the front. She had planned on wearing the top as a jacket while she teased him with glimpses of her body. She knew that a barely concealed body was as much of a turn on to some men as nudity was, and wondered how it would affect Dub. Now she wasn't sure wearing them was a good idea, because she had been so forceful in her setting of rules. It was either them or jeans and a thicker shirt, though, and she was pretty sure that wouldn't be comfortable. She almost asked him to turn around while she got undressed and into her PJs, but then realized how silly that would be. Then she realized he wasn't even watching her, but was getting into the bed instead. Suddenly she was alone outside the tent, in the dark. The fire was still throwing off light, but beyond that were dark shadows. She saw the carcass of the deer hanging like some macabre ghost nearby and suddenly remembered his mention of "critters" who might want some of that meat. Hurriedly she skinned out of her clothes, into her PJs and crawled into the tent. Dub was holding the sleeping bag up for her to get under and, when she wiggled under it and he enfolded her in his arms, she didn't resist. She felt warm and safe in his embrace. His naked legs bumped against hers and she smiled in mental triumph as she wished she WAS naked. She congratulated herself for her forsight in demanding to wear something to bed. ------- Later ... over and over in fact ... she would try to determine what it was that proved to be her undoing. She asked herself if it was the simple, innocent kiss she gave to his naked chest. She hypothesized it was his hand, rubbing up and down her back, and which then dipped lower to cup one soft buttock and pull her against him. Sometimes she was sure it was feeling his stiff penis against her belly, throbbing and hot. Of course when he kissed the top of her head, and she looked upward, his lips found her forehead, and then nose, and then her lips. She was later sure that if she hadn't let him slip his hand in the front of her PJ bottoms, and slide his long finger into her sex, that she wouldn't have opened herself to that hand, humping her hips up into it as that finger probed deeply and pulled a bone shaking orgasm from her loins. It had to be those things that led her to unbutton her PJs and crawl on top of him so she could press her hot breasts to his naked skin. And doing that put his still hard penis where she could rub her pussy against it. They kissed, and she moved her breasts against his skin, loving the feel of that and the fact that when she did that it rubbed her pussy against his prick too. And then she realized that if she kept rubbing his prick with her pussy she might cum again. And she almost did, getting closer and closer until she was almost frantic with the need for release. She sucked his tongue and ground against him faster and faster until, on one lunge, his naked prick slid into the loose leg of her shorts and the head mashed into her pussy lips. She stopped, frozen, as she felt the undeniable heat of skin-to-skin contact. She knew what was touching her down there, because his hands were on her back, and had been helping her move. She lifted her head. They were both panting. She felt the almost impossible-to-resist urge to move again, this time to push against his prong so that it would go inside her. "No," she whispered. "Angela?" It was obvious he was at a loss for what her denial had meant. "You're about to go inside me, Dub," she panted. "No I'm not," he said firmly. "You're right there, Dub," she moaned. "I'm not going to do anything," he promised. He lay very still, and his hands stopped moving across her back. The urge to push got stronger and she wiggled sideways instead. The leg of her shorts moved him with her and her pussy lips parted, as if they were opening to receive him. His knob pressed against her clit and she sobbed as she pushed and it slid upwards to kiss the hairs on her mons. She sobbed with relief that he hadn't entered her and didn't even think as her body slid back up automatically, knowing what it wanted, even if her brain was being recalcitrant about it. She felt his prickhead spread her pussy lips again and realized what she had done. "No!" she scolded herself. "I'm not doing anything," complained Dub. She pushed herself up with her arms, intending to get off of him, but her lower body refused to cooperate. Instead, it used the alteration of her point of balance to slide fractionally lower and the head of his cock unable to do anything else, spread her wider. Perhaps it was that initial sensation, of tissues being pushed apart, of her vagina loosening in anticipation of being filled by something she had subconsciously wanted over the years and that was finally available. Perhaps it was his soft alarm "Angela?" as he realized something was happening that he wasn't sure was all right. He wasn't trying to push into her and was, in fact, just lying there. Her mind was being assailed with more thoughts and urges than she could process efficiently. Gone was the professional doctor, whose controlled, academic approach to problems would produce the best possible course of action. Right now she was simply a woman being reminded by Mother Nature that she WAS a woman. One of the many stimuli she was experiencing pushed to the top when her hips wiggled and his thick knob pushed even further between now stretched pussy lips. "It's going in meeeee," she groaned. She didn't actually say it TO Dub, even though that's how it sounded. She was just putting into words what was happening to her, taking the action and transferring it to words which were less threatening, somehow. "No!" he whispered. "I'm not doing anything, Angela. Honest!" "I know," she moaned, as her mind flicked to a different thought and she acknowledged the man who was under her, and who part of her brain knew she was using at the moment. As if Dub suddenly perceived the truth of the matter - that he was a more or less innocent bystander who was in the process of being taken hostage - he uttered the two words that he undoubtedly thought were the best words to speak at the moment. "Angela ... wait." He was quite suddenly panting as he spoke. What he could not know, and what she had no time to think about, was that those two words unleashed even more stimuli on Angela's already overburdened brain. They confirmed that he WAS trying to honor their agreement ... that he wasn't just trying to get into her at-that-moment mythical panties. In her mind his words confirmed he was an honorable man ... a trustworthy man ... a decent man. He was, in short, the kind of man Angela had dreamed of finding her entire life. He was quite suddenly Prince Charming, and her overpowering impulse was to claim him for her own. With sudden strength, and without conscious thought, Angela tried to force her pelvis a foot closer to his ankles. She only made it about eight or nine inches before something stopped her as if she'd run into a brick wall, and her vagina sent her brain the message that somebody had just driven an eighteen wheeler through her pussy and into her belly. "Ohhhhhh fuuuuuck!" she groaned as she realized what she'd done. Meanwhile Dub was trying to cope with the experience of having something like a hot, wet, velvet glove sliding onto his tallywhacker and then squeezing his entire prick, from base to tip, like that glove was being worn by Superman. And Superman wasn't being tender about squeezing. Angela's moment of clarity began to fray at the edges as she wiggled her hips, trying instinctively to find a more comfortable position for her stuffed pussy, whereupon her clit sent additional signals to the brain that translated loosely to "Hot DAMN this feels good!" There was a long moment of somewhat spastic activity as Dub practically vibrated under Angela, who began jerking around on top of him, until her vaginal canal began to adjust and there was more pleasure than discomfort. At that point her natural impulse was to set up a rhythm of movement ... up toward his head ... and then back down, toward his feet. Her breasts rolled on his chest while she did that, almost lubricating her movement and, at the same time, providing even more stimulation. It now sounded like two marathon runners were approaching the finish line inside the small tent. Instinct had not been big in Dub's life in the past, at least not sexual instinct. His prick knew what to do, but he hadn't figured out that there were ways it could be assisted until his mother took him to the doctor. His world had expanded considerably since then, and his instincts, having been to school now, rose up in independent action. His hands came to her waist and helped her rise and fall. Had there been two philosophers present, one might have said "Why look, he's fucking his prick with that woman!" while the other might have said "Why look, she's fucking that prick with her body!" Both would have been right, in a manner of speaking. Angela felt her orgasm coming from far away. It was clearly there, and moving toward her at a pace she could both anticipate and urge on. She knew she was going to have it and she looked forward to it. The only problem was that it was about ten times stronger than she thought it would be and, when it hit her, her nerves felt like they were suddenly on fire and her brain was quite sure she was going to explode into thousands of tiny pieces. Perceiving a neural emergency, her brain simply disengaged a bunch of nerves, which left her to flop limply on top of Dub as he continued to make her body move, because suddenly HE was about to get that special feeling and he knew that if he kept moving her it would be there really soon. So Angela lay on top of him, her body loose and floppy while Dub used her like a blow up doll until he arched his back and his balls unloaded his usual enormous quantity of sperm-laced seminal fluid. It had only one place to go. The seal between the shaft and her vaginal walls was too tight for even liquid to get through. The mucus plug in her cervix was roughly pushed aside and creamy white fluid spilled into her womb where it coated the surface of her uterus like a gaggle of thirteen year old boys at a dance, hugging the walls in fear that some girl will actually notice them. And there was, as it happened, a girl in the room. Angela's egg had been happily floating down a fallopian tube earlier in the day when it was rather rudely compelled to go faster by the exertion of her muscles as she struggled to keep up with Dub. The egg didn't complain, really, but merely looked around the huge dark cavern as if to say "Anybody here?" Receiving no reply, the egg, being just an egg, simply floated to one wall of the uterus and clung there for lack of anything better to do. Now the room got crowded, and the analogy began to break down, because these particular thirteen year old boys, at this particular dance, weren't shy at all. In fact ALL of them wanted to dance with the only girl in the room at the same time, and the rush toward her resulted in what, microscopically speaking, would have looked something like a ripe dandelion blossom ... all white, puffy and fragile looking. And, because some authors just can't give up on an analogy, even when moving on is long overdue, as the individual sperm cells failed to penetrate the egg, and became exhausted by the effort, they floated away, like dandelion seeds in the wind. One sperm cell, however, the quintessential "Dub" sperm cell of all of Dub's sperm cells, simply pushed through the cell wall of the egg. Ironically it was the exact opposite of how the penis that had delivered that cell had ended up in the woman whose egg was being fertilized. In effect, Angela had provided the Yin to the situation, and Dub's sperm cell became the Yang. Balance was achieved, and a new life was begun. Fate had spoken, and Nature had claimed her due. Angela, of course, was not aware of what was taking place on a cellular level in her uterus. She did feel the sunburst of wet heat as all those sperm cells coated the walls of her womb and, as one feels the potential for burn in the sun's rays, she was aware of the potential for reproductive danger all that heat represented. But the fact of the matter was that, at that moment, she was in love with every sensation she was feeling. She knew a line had been crossed that could never be uncrossed, and that her life had suddenly become more complicated but, at that particular moment, she wouldn't have changed a thing. Dub didn't know WHAT to think. He knew something important had happened, and while uneducated in the classic sense, he wasn't stupid. In the afterglow of the event, his thoughts went to Chucky Johnson's description of what he had done with Jenny Masters. True, Dub hadn't gotten on top of Angela, but he was quite convinced that his pecker had, in fact, gone "way up inside her," to be technical about it. "We had relations!" he sighed. "That's the understatement of the century," murmured the part of Angela's brain that was not sorry in any way, shape or form for what had happened. "But why?" wondered Dub, who was completely convinced they had both agreed that such a thing would not happen. This simple question was like a pure ray of sunlight entering Angela's cloudy mind. It illuminated the "problem area" of what had just happened. That same part of Angela's mind that had wallowed in every luscious second of their lovemaking tried hard to say "Because I love you, Dub!" but her practical mind backhanded that tender part of her brain, roughly saying to itself "When I want your opinion I'll ASK for it!" "It was a mistake," she muttered. She was sorry almost immediately for the way it came out. She meant it ... or she felt like she SHOULD mean it ... but it had sounded so harsh when she said it. She realized his penis was still inside her. It had softened - she could feel an obvious difference - but was still firmly embedded inside her. She knew she should pull off and tensed her muscles to do that, but some kind of paralysis prevented her. "A mistake?" He sounded both confused and hurt. "We weren't supposed to do that, Dub," her practical brain said. "I know," he agreed. "How did it happen?" She thought about that. It was already a misty kind of memory - not the marvelous fucking she'd gotten, she'd never forget that - but what had led up to it was dim and hard to remember. What her brain supplied was "Well he sure didn't rape you!" "I lost control," she said, her voice sad with self disappointment. "Oh," he said, as if that was all he needed to know. She felt her psyche relax a bit, but should have known better. His next comment sent her into a panic. "But we're still gonna get hitched ... right?" ------- Chapter 7 Dub's voice, as he asked if they were going to get married, sounded clearly serious to Angela. Her panic wiped away all ability to be sensitive to the situation. "Of course not!" she gasped. "I couldn't possibly marry you!" The first thing Angela noticed was that, when her body stiffened to unconsciously punctuate her words, her internal muscles stiffened too, and pushed Dub's soft penis out of her body. It was almost poetic that her body rebuffed him at the same time her voice did, though she didn't think of it that way, of course. She just realized she had pushed the offending member out of her body. She also rolled off of his warm body onto the cool ground cloth beside him. Perhaps it was the fact that his hands let her go that caused her panic to ease, and allow her to think about what had just happened, and how it might affect Dub. His first "love" had rejected him out of hand. His response replaced her panic with confusion. "Oh ... okay." Just like that he seemed to accept that she couldn't possibly marry him. "I mean it wouldn't work out," she said, trying to justify her harsh statement. "Yeah, I know," he said. He sounded sad, but not crushed. "I'm glad you understand," she said, more to make herself feel like less of a heel than to make him feel better. "We better get some sleep," he said. "I planned on gettin' up early." "Oh. Yes. Of course." Something in her unconscious made her roll away from him, as if to break the physical bond between them even more. Her conscious mind had no clue yet that their physical bond was already permanent, and that her fertilized egg was, at that moment, extending the bond to create an an umbilical cord. She would soon be literally tied to Dub's offspring. As contact broke, though, her conscious mind noticed the cold, and urged her to roll back against him where he still lay on his back. She resisted, despite the feel of cold and alone-ness, until it felt so horrible that she started to roll toward him despite her will to resist. At that moment he turned on his side, facing away from her, and sighed. Her mind heard "goodbye" in that sigh, and she stilled her body, able to resist again. Her mood could not have been called miserable, truthfully, because there were still bits of electrical impulses of the joy she had so recently experienced flitting around in her brain. Those sparks of ecstasy seemed to have a life of their own, refusing to die, as her practical mind intoned over and over again that it was best to break this bond, once and for all. The unthinkable had already happened. Those unwelcome sparks of ecstasy that wouldn't die made it clear that the unthinkable could ... probably would ... happen again, and that was ... unthinkable. So it was an unhappy, cold, nearly naked Angela who sought sleep that evaded her, as bits and pieces of the last month, and last day, and last hour floated unbidden through her mind. Eventually she fell into an exhausted sleep that was troubled by dreams where she was reaching for something in the fog, and couldn't see it, and was afraid of it, but wanted it anyway for some reason. While she couldn't find what she was looking for in the unhappy dream, her body obeyed the impulse to move toward comfort and warmth. Fully asleep, she rolled to snuggle against the warm back next to her. She didn't feel the hand, also warm, that reached to lie on her hip, or hear the slight snore of the man who was also unaware he was helping her press against him. ------- Waking was a nightmare of its own, because Dub simply threw the sleeping bag to one side, sat up, grabbed his clothing for the day and then left the tent to get dressed where he had more room. The cold of the morning and his sudden absence struck Angela as if freezing water had been thrown on her. "Dub!" she whined. "It's cold!" "Get dressed," came his calm reply. "Move around and you'll warm up. I'll start a fire." She hadn't put her next day's clothes out where she could find them easily, because she hadn't thought of a need for that. They were still safe and dry in her suitcase. Which was outside the tent, because there was no room for it inside. It was marginally brighter outside the tent where she found herself trying to tiptoe over the cold, rocky ground on bare feet that were screaming at her to do something sensible, like put on shoes and socks. Then the rest of her body started wailing that it was even colder too. In short, she looked like she was doing some wild fertility dance in the early morning light, or, perhaps, a pagan ritual dance to get the sun to break over the horizon. She was moaning, rather than chanting, which spoiled the impression somewhat. Dub simply thought she looked funny, though he was wise enough not to laugh. Instead he blew life into the coals of the fire and added wood, trying to get it going quickly so she'd have a place to warm up. As soon as that was accomplished he got the coffee pot going and then took the lid off the flat Tupperware container that held eggs already out of the shell and strips of bacon, coated with those eggs. He dumped that into the skillet and set it close enough to the fire to heat up, but not burn anything. Meanwhile the cold had finally penetrated deep enough into Angela's brain that she started thinking clearly again, and she got dressed quickly. She noticed the slickness between her legs, particularly the cool feel of it where it lubricated her thighs, but there was nothing she could do about it at the moment. The mere thought of getting in the river in this cold made her shiver even more. Her brain told her it would be warm later, and she could take care of hygiene then. She thought briefly about the fact that there was sperm mixed into that slickness, but there was nothing she could do about that either. Rather than confront what that might mean, she shied away from it. As happens with many people, she thought the problem might just go away if she didn't think about it. Clothes helped almost immediately, and stepping closer to the fire to sit and put on socks and shoes helped too, such that by the time she was fully clothed, Angela felt more irritated by the cold than controlled by it. She watched Dub fiddle with the skillet and coffee pot. She felt like she should say something, but had no idea what that should be, and stayed silent. Dub got up and went to inspect the deer carcass, hanging from the rope. Apparently all was well, because he returned to the fire without doing anything other than looking at it. "Soon as we get fifteen or twenty fish, we can head back," he said. His voice was curiously void of emotion. She tried to convince herself that was normal. He was only talking about fish, after all. But it sounded wrong to her ears for some reason. "Okay," she said, and that sounded wrong to her ears too, but she couldn't figure out why. Breakfast was quiet. The rest of the day was quiet, for that matter. He did, in fact, teach her to fish and the first few times her bobber dipped and jerked, the excitement of that diverted her from thinking about her "problems." After that it was a matter of pride to try and catch as many fish as Dub did. There was some kind of secret, though, that she couldn't fathom, because he hauled in twice as many as she did over the next four or five hours. He left the fish on a stringer in the river while they had lunch, and then packed everything back up while she started cleaning fish. She was aghast that his intention was to wear the pack AND carry the deer. Even when he hacked off the legs and head of the animal, she was sure the combined pack and deer must weigh more than a hundred pounds. "I can carry the pack," she offered. "Your suitcase and the fish will be plenty for you to handle," he said. And they were. On the way there she had been able to transfer the suitcase from hand to hand. Now, though, she had something in each hand, and she couldn't let the stringer of fish hang at arms length, because the fish would drag in the dirt if she did so. As a result, her muscles felt like they were on fire and she was thoroughly miserable when they finally got back to her car. She didn't even care that she felt covered with fish scales and stank when she got into the car. She just automatically stopped around the corner from his house. He didn't say anything, but simply started hanging things off his body until he looked like a pile of man, animal and mechanical parts. "Thanks," he said, reaching for the stringer of fish. "I hope you had a good time. You done pretty good fer a city slicker." Her amazement that he considered her a "city slicker" kept her mute as he shrugged the deer carcass higher onto his pack. He had to make an adjustment for the rifle that was in the way, but then looked at her. "Guess I'll see you later." She could only nod. She didn't have the faintest idea what to say to this man any more. What irritated her was that, as he trudged away from her car and around the corner to his mother's house, that damn stringer of fish was dragging in the dirt. ------- Angela's departure from Bob's house had been well thought out. She hadn't thought about her return at all. As a result, a thoroughly bedraggled and dirty young woman stumbled into the house to find her mentor, partner, and landlord sitting at the dining room table working on a crossword puzzle in a book. He glanced up. "Thought that fishing thing was a hallucination brought on by the drugs," he commented. "Appears not." "Oh Bob," she sighed. She wanted to pour her heart out to him, but was sure if she did so he'd think she was a silly, stupid girl. All she could manage was "I wasn't ready for that at all." "Who'd you go with?" he asked. Without thinking she answered. "Dub. Dub Fisher." "Dub takes his hunting and fishing seriously," said Bob. "You can say that again," she said, thinking about how he never complained once on the long trek back to the car, burdened as he was. He also had never set the deer down and rested. He just plodded along until they got there and then dropped the deer carcass in the dust with a sigh. "Kind of got in over your head, huh?" suggested Bob. "Yes." She felt tears starting to form and blinked rapidly. "I'm going to go take a bath." "Good idea," said Bob. ------- Angela was glad Bob hadn't pressed for details about the weekend. She soaked in the tub until the water got cool and then took a three hour nap, which was unusual for her. She almost never slept during the day, because normally it left her feeling tired instead of refreshed. When she woke, though, and smelled cooking smells, she felt much better. She got up to find that Bob had made a batch of chili-mac. He filled a bowl for her when she walked into the kitchen. "I could come back to work tomorrow," he said. "You're supposed to stay out another week," she replied. "Yeah, but I COULD come back to work tomorrow." He glanced at her. "If you need me, I mean." "I actually did all right while you were gone," she said. "I knew you would." "Yes, you did. Thank you for having confidence in me." "You should have confidence in yourself," he said. "I do." She sounded injured. "In some ways," he said. She wasn't sure what he meant, but conflict was the last thing she wanted in her life right now, so she let it go. "You just do what the doctor ordered," she said. "When was the last vacation you took?" "When I went hunting and fishing with Dub last year," he said. "YOU went with him?" Her voice rose an octave. "Sure did," he said. "But ... how?" Obviously she thought he was much too old to be able to do what she had just done. "I imagine I did just like you did," he smiled. "I put one foot in front of the other and was glad as hell when we got back." "Oh," she said, amazed. "Course I didn't sleep with the boy," he said calmly. She stiffened. "What makes you think I slept with him?" "You leave your tent and sleeping bag outside?" he asked. "Cause mine are still in the garage where I left them." She slumped. "Shit," she said softly. "It's none of my business, Angela," he said. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry." "I suppose you want me to resign," she said heavily. He looked surprised. "Why on Earth would I want that?" he asked. "He was my patient, Bob," she said tightly. "So is every other man in town," said Bob. "Potentially, at least. Do you think that means you can't have anything to do with any of them except medicine? "Of course," she said. "It's unethical." "You're not unethical," he snorted. "You're just human, that's all. Dub's a fine figure of a man." "You know I shouldn't have let him..." She closed her eyes. "I don't want to talk about this." "As is your right," said Bob. "But don't let any high falutin' ideas of resigning get into your head, because I won't hear of it. You owe me four and a half more years and I'm gonna get every minute of it out of you, Doctor." His voice was almost hard. "We clear on that?" "Yes sir," she said tightly. "I think I'll go to bed now." "After what I know you've just been through, I expect that's a wise idea," said Bob. ------- The next morning he insisted on riding to the clinic with her, despite her resistance. "I just want to see things," he said. "I'm not going to strain any stitches." Holly was delighted to see him and actually kissed him on the cheek. "I was so worried about you," she said. "You were not," he laughed. "Well that's what employees say when they're trying to get a raise," she smiled. "You know you're not due for a raise," he said. She nodded. "Can't hurt to grease the skids, though. You look better than when I saw you last, by the way." "Feel better too," he said. "Everything all right?" Holly glanced at Angela. "Great," she said. "Other than the fact that I pined for you every day, I didn't miss you at all." Bob grinned. "Danny never had a chance once you had your sights set on him, did he." "Not a prayer," confirmed Holly. "Now, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be home in bed." She looked at Angela again. "I tried to tell him," objected Angela. "He wouldn't listen!" "Exercise helps a body heal," he said wisely. "If you need me you know where I am." He turned for the door. "Where are you going?" asked both women at once. "Back home," he said, waving over his shoulder. "You're going to walk?" asked both women at once. He stopped and, with over stated patience, said "Exercise helps a body heal. Please remember that." Then he turned and left the clinic. "Should I go after him?" asked Angela. "No. He's too stubborn to listen to reason," said Holly. "Besides, if he didn't think he could do it, he wouldn't try. It's only a mile." She turned around. "Your first patient is here anyway, so you can't leave." Angela was glad it was a full day. It kept her from thinking about anything except medicine. And ... of course ... Dub Fisher. ------- When she left the clinic Monday, she decided not to go pick him up. On Tuesday, she felt like she wasn't ready to face him, or have the discussion that was needed. Wednesday turned into Thursday, and then it was suddenly Friday, and it was too late to go find him, because now she wouldn't be able to explain why she hadn't seen him all week. Each night when she got home, Bob quizzed her about what patients she'd seen and what her diagnosis, treatment and the prognosis had been. It kept her mind off of Dub, at least until she went to bed, where she tried to figure out what, exactly, she should do about their relationship. Mostly she felt aggravated at herself, and responsible for letting things go much too far. That Bob wasn't holding it against her was comforting, but that didn't mean she bought into his concept that besides being a doctor in Turkey Hollow, she was also a woman who lived there, with a woman's needs. In any case, she couldn't pursue that kind of relationship with the likes of Dub Fisher. It was just ridiculous. Wasn't it? She felt sure it must be ridiculous, because they had almost nothing in common, and likely never would. Why, then, did she feel so unsettled about admitting it was ridiculous? And so, because she didn't know what she wanted to do ... or should do ... she refrained from picking Dub up the next week too. ------- Bob, showing that he was wiser than he acted, stayed out an additional week, and then showed up at full strength, and raring to go. It seemed like she had more freedom, even though her work load didn't really change that much. Holly had postponed as many appointments as she could to work around Bob being gone. Two more weeks went by with her going on what amounted to auto pilot. Eventually, the more or less constant knot in her gut morphed into the realization that there really wasn't any relationship with Dub to worry about any more. That brought feelings of guilt with it too, because she hadn't intended to just never see him again. She DID like him. In fact it was more than just "like." That was part of the problem, because she just couldn't imagine the two of them being ... that close. She was all right at work, interested in each patient, but after five she might as well have been on heroin. She tried to read, or do a crossword puzzle, curled up in one of Bob's overstuffed arm chairs, but usually ended up just sitting there, wondering why she let herself feel so bad. Bob usually had the TV on, but she rarely paid any attention to it. Or to him. ------- As was becoming usual for her, she slept late on the weekends. Her body was beginning to be affected by the fact that she got to sleep much too late, even though she often went to bed early. Bob always seemed to be up before her, no matter how early she got up. He had a car, but rarely drove it. His habit was to walk to and from work. She still drove to work, primarily because she wanted to sleep as long as possible, and then had to do cosmetic things that a man didn't, which took time. At least that's what she told herself. After that day at the clinic when, only a week after his operation, he had walked home, she had begun to feel guilty that Bob walked and she drove. He never seemed to have anyplace to go on the weekends, but that didn't seem odd. She didn't either. On one Saturday morning she was therefore surprised when she walked into the kitchen and the first thing Bob said to her was "I wonder if you'd do me a favor today? I'd like to go for a drive in the mountains." His obvious intent was that she actually do the driving. "Sure," she said. "I don't have anything planned." "I know," he said. "You never do." She looked at him quizzically, but he ignored her and moved his breakfast dishes to the sink. "Do those later," he said, mostly to himself. Then he looked at her. "Soon as you get something to eat I'll be ready." She settled for a quick bowl of Cheerios, wondering what was up with Bob. When they got out on the road and he pointed her toward a particular highway, her curiosity got stronger. Then it was replaced by frustration as she drove up and into the mountains and he just sat, looking out the window. "So what's going on?" she finally asked. "We're going for a ride," he said. "Why?" she asked. "Because I wanted to?" He looked at her, his eyebrows raised. "Why did you want to go for a ride?" she asked firmly. "Look out there," he said, instead of answering her question. She glanced around at the mountains. "Okay," she said. "What do you see?" he asked. "Mountains," she said. He didn't say anything for a full minute, and then he pointed. "Pull over at that overlook right there." She parked, and he got out, so she got out too. There was a rail that kept observers from falling down a steep slope. The view was impressive. "Look out there and tell me what you see," he said. She knew that "mountains" was the wrong answer now. She felt helpless. "Trees?" she asked. "Youngsters!" he spat, obviously disgusted. "Blind as bats!" "What am I supposed to see?" she asked, annoyed that he was angry with her for some reason. His impatience evaporated and he simply pointed. "See that bright green patch over there?" Her eyes followed his arm. "Yes." "See how it merges into a darker shade as it goes to the right?" "Yes." She was impatient again. "Now ... take a minute and look in just that area, and tell me how many different shades of green you see." "Bob," she objected. "What are we doing?" "Just do it, Angela," he said. "Humor an old man." She looked and counted. "Five," she said." "Not even close," he replied. He began to point to separate shades of green and explain what each was, and how the different plants supported and depended on each other. He talked of which things were food for deer, and which grew rapidly after a fire, to hold the soil in place. He spoke of people who had lived in these mountains for centuries, finding their medicine and food in the wild, and living in concert with nature by fitting into its patterns, instead of trying to make nature conform to man's desires. Her eyes picked out each thing as he mentioned it and, like a veil had been pulled from her eyes, she saw it all at once, the myriad of individual characteristics where, before, she had seen only a mass of blue green. That blue green had been pretty, no doubt. She would have even called it beautiful before this instant. But now she realized she had been looking at it all as if it were one thing, instead of a compilation of smaller components. She thought of music, which was the same thing, really, a large thing made up of many smaller things, all of which were necessary, even crucial, to make the whole as beautiful as it could be. "Looks peaceful, doesn't it?" he said. "Yes," she said, her mind trying to envision life here without electricity or running water or stores. "Looks can be deceiving," he said. "Life and death are going on all around us, every second of every minute of every day. All manner of creatures are building homes, having babies, and searching for food, trying not to become food for other animals." "When you look at it that way it seems kind of futile," she said. "Not at all. It's what life is all about. It sounds simple to say you're born, you do the best you can with what you have, and then you die. But that short changes that middle part. Hopefully, that part is decades long, but if you don't USE it, then all life amounts to is being born and then dying. "I'm using my life," she objected. "I just spent years in medical school and now I'm a doctor." "That's a good start," said Bob. "But it shouldn't be your primary focus." "What are you TALKING about?" gasped Angela. "Of COURSE it's my primary focus. It's who I am!" "Not in the slightest," he said. "You are thousands of things, and being a doctor is only one of them. You're a daughter, a single woman, a friend. You might be a sister or niece. You're a traveler, and a consumer. You're a reader of books and a solver of crossword puzzles. And you have the potential to be hundreds of other things. That's my point. You are part of that mad, crazy dog eat dog world out there, unless you hold yourself back and look at it like you were looking at those mountains. You don't see what's going on over there, or even twenty feet away, because you're not really looking. Life can pass you by if you do that too much, Angela. Get involved. Be part of the world and take in as much as you can. Don't put your life on hold for five years because you have this obligation to deal with. If you do that, you can lose five years of your life." "Okay, I get it," she said. "What I don't get is why you're telling me all this right now." "Because I knew you weren't really looking before," he said. "This is all around us, and the enormity of it, the miracle of it, the spirituality of it can soak into us if we let it. When that happens, we become part of the miracle." She turned to him. "I still don't see why you're so ardent about it now," she insisted. He shrugged. "You've been here for a while now, but you're not really part of this. You haven't let yourself become part of it." "Why do you care?" she asked. "Because when you're part of it you'll be a better doctor," he said. He rushed on. "There's nothing wrong with your medical skills. You are a good doctor, and I'm proud to work with you. You're teaching me things, and I like that." "I'm teaching YOU things?" she asked, aghast. "Of course you are," he said. "You fairly gush all that new knowledge they taught you in medical school. I haven't been to school in forty years. I try to keep up with progress, but you're like a shiny new book for me to read. That's why I want you to make a decision about whether or not you're going to be one of us. You're a good doctor now. You could be a great one if you decide this is the right place for you." "It IS the right place for me," she said, frowning. "I chose to come here. I have to stay for five years. And I like it here. I don't understand what you're talking about." "What do you do after work?" he asked. "What have you done every night after work since you've been here?" She blinked. He answered for her. "You come home and watch TV or read a book or bake a cake," he said. "OK," She said. "So what's wrong with that?" "Don't you want to have a beer, or shoot some pool, or go bowing with a bunch of raucous friends? Don't you want to kick up your heels like everybody else your age?" "That's not me, Bob," she said. "I've never been like that." "I know that," he said impatiently. "It's like you're married. You come home and do nothing all evening." "Well you do too," she accused. "I spread my wild oats when I was younger," he said. "I raised a little hell, and loved me a woman and was loved by her. We had younguns and raised 'em were proud of what they became. And through it all I had friends. A lot of them have died by now. Most of those wouldn't listen to me about what not to eat and such like, but they lived their lives like a falling star, glowing bright and cutting a path through life that was beautiful to see. I'm getting old, Angela. But you're not, so why do you act like an old woman?" "I'm not an old woman," she said weakly. "I noticed," he said dryly. "You think even a man of my relatively advanced years doesn't notice a woman who looks like you? And you parading around my house in that shorty robe, with those bare legs of yours? At first I thought you were trying to give me a heart attack, but then I realized you just didn't know what you were doing." "I'm sorry," she said, meaning it, but confused. This was the first she'd even contemplated that a man Bob's age might take close notice her femininity. "Don't be sorry about it you foolish girl. That's who you're supposed to be. You're a woman, and I know you put that on the back burner to get your medical degree, but you've got it now, so pull that pan back up to where the fire is and let nature take its course! I thought you had, and was in full agreement with it, but now you've gone and blown out the fire!" "What are you talking about?" she asked, her eyes wide. Then it hit her. "This is about Dub!" she gasped. "You're talking about Dub, aren't you." "Who else would I talk about?" he asked, irritated. "You ain't given another man a glance since you been here." "That was a mistake!" she moaned. "It shouldn't have happened." "I thought we went through that already," said the old man. "You don't want him as your patient, then fine. He can be mine. That's one reason for having two doctors here in the first place." "No," she whined. "I mean yes, that's part of the problem." The man looked at her shrewdly. "You think you're better than him," he said softly. "No," she said, but with little conviction. "You think he's a hick, and has nothing to offer you." "That's what HE said," she blurted. "Because that's how YOU made him feel," said Bob. "We have nothing in common!" she insisted. "THAT is why I brought you here," said Doctor Kimble, and his arm pointed out at the scene below them. ------- He didn't say anything more, even when she tried to start conversations. She drove another forty miles and the whole time he just stared out the window. Her mind worked in that odd way that lets you drive ten miles and suddenly realize you are ten miles from the last place you remember. She remembered clearly the conversation she and Dub had had in bed ... in her bed ... in Bob's house ... where he'd said he had nothing to offer a woman, and she'd said she should be willing to take him just like he was, because of his good qualities. It was, naturally, too much of a course change to happen immediately. She was like a huge ship, whose captain had initiated a sharp turn. It took time and space to do that. In a sense, like the ship, she wasn't even aware that a turn was happening. But the captain ... and others ... kept urging her to come around. One of the others was Ezra, who ran into her at "The Pig," as everyone called the Piggly Wiggly store. It was her turn to pick up the groceries. She wasn't paying attention and her cart hit his. "Reckless driving if I ever saw it," he said with a smile. "Got your license on you Doc?" He was in uniform, fully armed, and looked completely out of place pushing a half filled grocery cart. "Oh, hi," she said, blushing as she recognized him. "I'm sorry." "No harm done," he said. "Just don't do it in your car, okay?" "Of course not," she said. She was moving on when he said "Hey." She turned around and looked at him. He wasn't smiling any more. "Sorry to hear about you and Dub." "What about me and Dub?" she asked, feeling suddenly defensive." "About you splitting up and all," he said. "We didn't split up!" she said almost angrily. "We were never ... together." She flushed even redder as she realized how foolish that sounded, after what the man had caught them doing. He didn't laugh at her, though. Instead he nodded almost sorrowfully. "Too bad. You made a nice couple, and Dub was due something good in his life." Then he turned away and pushed his cart down the line. She looked down the next aisle, to see if he had turned that way, and they'd have to pass again, only entering the aisle after she was sure that wasn't the case. It didn't matter, though, because his words stayed in her ears: "You made a nice couple." She replayed it over and over in her head, trying to hear derision in his voice ... trying to hear him laughing at her ... comparing the two of them as beauty and beast. But it wasn't there. He had been serious. To him they were just two people, and he thought they might be good for each other. She had to know, though. She almost ran down the head aisle, swerving around people, looking for him. She saw him in line, receiving his receipt and pushing his purchases away. She abandoned her cart, hoping it would be there when she got back, and caught up to him as he pushed his cart out the doors. "Ezra!" she called. He turned and one eyebrow rose. "Did you mean that?" He smiled. "For sure I don't want you driving your car like you push your cart." She almost yelled at him, but bit her tongue. "I meant about Dub and me ... making a good couple." The mirth went out of his eyes. "Sure." "Why?" she asked, anguish in her voice. His eyes went from one of her eyeballs to the other. It felt like he was staring into her soul. Then he just shrugged. "I'm a policeman," he said. "It's always better to see two people happy than two people unhappy." She blinked. That was too simple an answer. Her mouth opened, and then closed again as she tried to think of a way to get more information. "I got milk and ice cream in here," he said, wiggling the cart. "I need to get them home." "Oh," she said, stepping back. "Of course." "I just thought you looked happy," he said. "Both of you," he added. "See you around." "Yes." She watched him push the cart to a red sedan and load the groceries into the back. She didn't want him to see her staring after him, so she turned around and hurried back inside. Her cart was still where she'd left it. ------- On the way home she thought about what Ezra had said. It was obvious he simply saw Dub and her as two people. He didn't push things farther than that. Bob didn't either. It didn't matter to them that she was college educated, and a professional woman, while Dub had dropped out of school after the sixth grade and did manual labor to support his mother and sisters. When Ezra looked at people he didn't look for things like that. He looked to see if they were happy together or not. She also thought about how, when she'd come to this town, she was sure people would hold her apart, and treat her differently, because she was so different from them. They were, in fact, a stand offish kind of people, at least initially, but Holly had welcomed her like a sister, and Bob had taken her in like a lost puppy, never asking her to do a thing other than her job. Others had taken her at face value. Most treated her like a doctor, because that's the only thing they knew about her. She had assumed the respect they showed her was because of her title. Ezra had ignored that title, other than to confirm that's who she was. She frowned. What had he said? She tried to remember, but the overwhelming memory was embarrassment at being caught like teenagers necking in a car. She took a deep breath and calmed her mind. He'd said something about Dub's life looking up. He hadn't said Dub was out of his league ... just that it looked like something good had come into his life since they last saw each other. That made her think about Bob, and his foray into the mountains to teach her how to see them for what they really were. He wouldn't talk about Dub after that, no matter how often she hinted that she wanted to. He'd said his piece, and that was that. He'd pointed out the complexity of the colors on the mountain and what they meant. He hadn't done that with Dub, though. All he'd done was give her some clues, and leave it to her to figure things out. She pulled into the driveway and started inside with a bag of groceries. Bob came out to help. "What should I do, Bob?" she asked suddenly. He looked at her from under what looked almost like a frown, but his answer came as if he was expecting that very question. "All you CAN do is what you think is best," he said. "That doesn't help!" she moaned. "Then do what you hope will make you happy," he said, unruffled. "If it does, you did the right thing. If it doesn't, you're back to square one." She tried to read that night, but couldn't concentrate. Going to bed didn't help. All that did was give her even more time to wonder why her world was being turned upside down. Dub hadn't come looking for her. It was obviously over, no matter what Ezra and Bob and who knew who else thought. It had been a mistake, and now it was over. Why then didn't she FEEL like it was over and done with? ------- The next morning, when she took her first bite of the cream of wheat Bob had fixed for them both, she dropped her spoon and bolted for the bathroom. One heave, and she felt better. Bob was suddenly there with a washcloth, and wiped her mouth and chin. "I must be coming down with something," she said. "It wasn't your cream of wheat." "Mmm hmmm," he said, noncommittally. "You all right now?" "Yes. I feel fine," she said. "I'll get started then," he said. She heard the door close as she tentatively took another bite. It tasted fine. She shrugged, finished eating, put the bowl and spoon in the sink, and then went to do her hair and makeup. ------- It happened three more times over the next five days. She'd feel suddenly nauseous, and then, as soon as she heaved into the stool, usually just a little bile, she felt fine. Bob was there two of those times, and each time he appeared at her elbow, ready to give comfort. Each time she thanked him, and said she was fine. Then, as if whatever bug was ailing her had run its course, the nausea went away. She forgot all about it until, a week later, Bob handed her a specimen cup. "Go tinkle in that for me, would you?" he asked, as if he were asking her to hand him a magazine. "What? Why on Earth would you ask me to do that?" she asked, shocked. "I'm just thinking about that nausea," he said. "I'd like to run a couple of tests." "It's nothing," she said. "It hasn't even happened for a week. I had some bug and now it's gone. Is somebody else showing the same symptoms? One of my patients?" She leaned forward. One thing every doctor hates is to pass along some illness to a patient. It isn't supposed to work that way. "Nobody's fallen ill," he said. "I just want to run a couple of tests. There are things that incubate over time." He looked away, as if he didn't want to meet her eyes. "They can cause problems later. It's best to catch them early, if they're there. "What kind of things?" she asked "I'm the doctor," he said brusquely. "You let me worry about that. I'll discuss the test results with you when I get them back. Now, are you going to cooperate with me, or do I need to quarantine you?" She 'tinkled' in the cup. She didn't like it, but she did it. ------- Chapter 8 By the following Tuesday Angela had forgotten about peeing in the cup for Bob, and was thinking less and less about Dub too. Things seemed to be going very well. Bob was healthy, and her patients presented complaints that she was usually able to do something about. She finished suturing up the leg of a man who'd been gored by a wild boar, listening to him tell her all about the hunt, and how, when he first saw it he couldn't shoot because his dog was in the way. The boar had ignored the dog and charged straight at the man, who managed to get a shot off just as the boar ripped into his leg. He'd carried the boar out. It was still in the back of his pickup truck, which was parked in the clinic lot. He urged her several times to speed things up because he hadn't dressed the carcass yet and didn't want the meat to taint because of something he called "innard juice." He didn't even limp when she was done, but she knew that was because of the lidocaine she had injected into the site before cleaning it and sewing him up. She warned him it would hurt later and told him to get the prescription for pain killers filled before he went home. He was so intent on getting to his truck that she knew he planned on cleaning the beast that had attacked him ... right there in the parking lot! "I want to see you in three days!" she called out. He simply waved at her without looking back. She turned to see Holly standing beside her, looking at the man. "What's wrong with these people?" Angela asked her. "Nothing," said Holly. "You should see it. If it's not a prize winner, I'd be surprised. There's a lot of meat on that thing." "You went and looked at it?" Angela's jaw dropped. "Me and fifteen other people," said Holly. "He will find that while you were cleaning him up, some friends of his cleaned the boar. It would be a shame to let something like that go to waste." Angela looked as the man stopped and stared into the back of his truck. He looked around, trying to find who had helped him out, but they were long gone. "What about the guts?" asked Angela. "They're still there," said Holly. "He can deal with them now that you sewed him up. "I'll never understand..." Angela had started to say "you people" but stopped. Instead, she finished "some people." "What are YOU talking about?" asked Holly. "Dub told me you helped him clean the deer he shot when you went hunting with him." "Does EVERYBODY know I went hunting with Dub?" asked Angela angrily. "Probably," said Holly. "What's eating at you?" "Nothing!" said Angela stiffly. "What's next?" Holly ignored the doctor's gruff manner. "Speaking of Dub, one of his sisters is here. She's a walk-in. She stepped on a piece of glass and her mother thinks the wound is infected." When she opened the door of the treatment room, the girl sitting on the table looked to be in her mid teens. She had mousy brown hair and slightly buck teeth. She looked scared. "Are you the doctor?" she asked timidly. "I'm Doctor Webber," said Angela. "And who are you?" "Lula Mae," said the girl softly. "You're Dub's sister, right?" asked Angela. The girl nodded. "Are you the one who saw him?" "Yes," said Angela. She didn't want to talk about Dub. "I hear you injured your foot." "Yeah. It hurts some." The girl held up a foot that was bandaged with strips of cloth. "Mamma put some medicine on it, but she says it ain't better like it should be." Angela unwrapped the foot, which was swollen and revealed an ugly purplish wound surrounded by red skin. Her mother had been wise to send her to the doctor. "It is infected," said Angela. "I need to show this to Doctor Kimble." "Will I be all right?" the girl asked worriedly. "You'll be fine," said Angela. "Be right back." It was Bob's opinion that the wound needed to be opened up, cleaned and disinfected. It would not be sutured, because he suspected it would drain for a few days. Lula Mae took the news well, once Bob promised she wouldn't feel anything during the procedure. When he gave her the shot that would deaden the area, she let him know in no uncertain terms that he'd lied and that it stung like fire. Then the pain of her wound went away and she calmed down. She'd been walking on that wound for two days, and had been in pretty much constant pain for the same amount of time. Bob got a scalpel and, while Angela held the foot steady, ran the blade through the original wound. Pus oozed from the slit. He began to widen the incision so he could get to the inner tissue to clean it. He glanced up at the girl's face. "How's the family?" he asked. "Pretty good," she said. "That medicine you gave mamma helps her hands not hurt so much." "Good," he said, as his fingers continued working on her wound without pause. "Darcey finally admitted she's sweet on Clarence Finney," she said. Angela's head jerked up. She had treated Clarence Finney for an ear infection while Bob was in the hospital. The man was thirty-five if she remembered correctly. "She looks a lot like Tanya used to," said Bob calmly. He looked up at Angela. "Tanya was his wife. She died during child birth last year - torn placenta. She went into labor and didn't realize there was a problem, because she just thought her water had broken. By the time I got to her she'd already lost too much blood. I was able to save the baby, but not Tanya." Lula Mae, apparently thinking to help, took up the story. "Darcy went to help take care of Thomas - that's the baby - while he grieved and buried her and such. She went over there every weekend, claimin' she was just helpin' out an after a while I guess they just got sweet on each other." "How's your mother feel about that?" asked Bob. "She ain't none too happy," said Lula Mae. "She's got this idea in her head that one of us girls should go to college, and Darcy's the smartest." She said it with no rancor. It was just a fact, in her mind. "Well there's always you," said Bob. "I want to get hitched to Jed when we graduate," she said. "His daddy has a job waitin' for him. If I go off to some college somewhere he ain't gonna wait for me." "I reckon not," agreed Bob. "What's Dub think about all this?" "Who knows," she said. "He don't talk no more." Angela's head came up sharply and she spoke impulsively. "What? Is something wrong with him?" "I don't know," said Lula Mae. Are you sure he's cured? Cause I don't think so," she said. "Maybe you didn't give him enough treatments." Bob glanced up at Angela, one eyebrow raised. She hadn't told him about Mrs. Fisher's ... complaint ... or how it had been handled. Her stomach felt heavy. She felt trapped. She didn't say anything for so long that Bob put himself into the situation. "What do you mean, Lula Mae?" he asked. "Well Darcy and me didn't even know anything was wrong with him, until Mamma brought him here. But after that he was a lot nicer to be around. I mean he was happy, and did his chores, and didn't yell at us girls and such." "And you say Doctor Webber gave him more treatments and it helped?" "That's what Mamma called them." "Your mother knew about the ... um treatments?" Angela asked weakly. Lula Mae looked at Angela. "I guess so. There was a couple of times when Dub wasn't home from work yet and I wanted to know where he was and Mamma said you was prob'ly giving him a treatment, and that he'd be along sooner or later." Angela's mind whirled. How had the woman known? Bob was looking at her again. She had to get this conversation over with somehow. "Well, he got better, and didn't need any more treatments," said Angela hopefully. "Well maybe he got worse again, because now he just mopes around and won't do nothin' unless we yell at him. And he actually yelled back at Mamma t'other night. I swear I thought she'd bust a vessel. He just ain't himself." "Why hasn't he come back in?" asked Bob. While the conversation played out Bob had cleaned the wound, bathed it with antibiotic ointment, and was bandaging the foot now. "I think maybe he's scared," said the girl. "Mamma threatened to take him to the doctor again, and he straightened right up. He's still sad, though. I can tell. I think he needs more treatments. He was happier when he was gettin' 'em." Bob smiled widely. "Well, Doctor Webber and I will have a talk about that, and if we think he needs more ... treatment ... I'll let you know tomorrow when you come back to get that bandage changed." "I have to come back tomorrow?" she whined. "Are you gonna stick me with that needle again?" "Not if you do as I tell you to," said Bob. "We're going to change that bandage every day for a spell, and keep an eye on that wound in the process. If it had gone much farther than it did you could have had a big problem." "It was just a cut," she said sullenly. "Which reminds me. You need a tetanus shot," he said. He turned to Angela. "Think you can take care of that?" She lowered her eyes. "Yes," she said softly. "Now SHE's gonna stick me?" complained Lula Mae. Bob stood up. "Tell you what, since you had to get stuck twice today, I'll loan you two crutches, and you can take it easy on that foot. It's still going to hurt for a spell." "Crutches?" The girl's eyes lit up. "Honest? I get to walk with crutches?" Bob smiled. "For a few days. But I'm taking them back if you're not here tomorrow to get that bandage changed." "I'll be here!" she said eagerly. Bob opened the door, but before he left, he looked at Angela again. "When you're finished here, perhaps you'd consult with me on a patient," he said. "I need to be brought up to speed." There was no doubt in Angela's mind what patient he was referring to. Angela put the needle in the sharps box and threw the syringe away. Lula Mae was gone, gleefully hobbling along on crutches, which were apparently a badge of honor to the girl. She tidied up the desk, which had only a prescription pad on it to begin with, and realized she was trying to delay the inevitable. Holly said Bob was probably finishing up with a patient, and had told her to have Angela wait in his office. "What'd you do?" asked Holly. "He found out about Dub," said Angela. "Well I didn't tell him," said Holly. "I know. I let things get way out of hand." "Oh really? I want to hear all about it," said Holly. Angela shot her a venomous look, but before she could say anything Bob ushered an older woman out into the lobby, telling her they'd keep a close eye on her blood sugar, and that he'd know if she cheated on her new diet. The woman didn't look excited about that. When she was gone Bob turned to her and Holly. "Let's talk about that patient now," he said. She followed him into his office, a place piled high with books and papers. He never saw patients in the office. He had interviewed her there, though, and whenever they consulted together on a patient, it usually took place in his office. He sat down in the big, brown, leather, high-backed desk chair behind his desk and started going through papers on one side of his desk. Angela sat in the only other chair in the room, which was facing him, on the other side of the desk. Apparently the chair hadn't been moved since she sat in it to be interviewed. She suddenly felt just like she had back then ... nervous ... afraid he wouldn't be impressed with her. He said "Aha!" and pulled a piece of paper out of the pile he was searching. Instead of saying anything he simply handed it to her. She looked at it. It was a lab report for a patient named Sally McGrudder. The report said Sally was pregnant. She looked up. "I thought you were going to talk about..." He had gone back to looking through papers, but stopped and looked at her. "About who?" "Never mind," she said. "Who is Sally McGrudder?" "One of my more foolish patients," he said. "She didn't take precautions, and doesn't know she's pregnant, and I'm trying to figure out how to break it to her." "You want my opinion on that?" Angela was confused. He had to have faced this situation before. "You're a woman," he said easily. "You're not planning on having children soon, right?" "Of course not," she said, "but I don't see what -" He cut her off. "So you're in a much better position to imagine how she'd feel about it than I am. If it were you, how would you want me to break it to you?" Angela, having expected something else, felt a little frustrated. How hard could it be to tell a woman she was pregnant? "I'd just want you to tell me," she said. He smiled. "Okay. Angela ... you're pregnant." He didn't say anything else, but just stared at her. "Well," she said, not understanding. "Maybe not quite that brusquely," she said. "Oh," he said. "How about this? Angela, remember that urine sample I asked you for a couple of weeks ago? Well, I had it analyzed and it confirms that you are pregnant." "That's better," she said and then froze as it hit her. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Pregnant?" she whispered. "Pregnant." he said firmly. "I can't be pregnant," she gasped. "That's what about half of them say," said Bob. "They're all wrong, by the way." "But we only did it once!" she whined. "Remember the half I just mentioned?" asked Bob calmly. "About half of those say that too." "Bob ... no!" she pled. "You wanted it straight," he said. "I gave it to you straight." She sat there, staring into nothingness. He let her. His previous shuffling of papers had simply been a nervous reaction to waiting for HER reaction. Now he sat quietly, letting her adjust to the new information. "What do I do now?" she finally asked. He was prepared for that question, because a lot of women asked it. He ignored the fact she was a doctor herself. She wasn't thinking like a doctor. She was thinking like a single woman who had been told she is unexpectedly pregnant. "Well, if you're going to let nature take its course, we need to get a blood sample so we can check your iron levels, and a few other things. I'll get you started on vitamins, and give you some counseling on how to have as good a gestation as possible. If you decide to have it, but don't want to keep it, I'll refer you to Betinna Shaw over at Planned Parenthood. She has contacts in the adoption field. And, if you don't want to carry it at all, we need to set a date for the procedure, and Betinna will set you up for counseling about that. "No. Not that." said Angela without really thinking about it. She looked up with a strange look on her face. "You'd do that?" "The procedure?" he asked. Then he nodded. "I don't advertise it, but if they go through the mill with Betinna then I do it. The way I see it, if they are willing to do that, they wouldn't make good mothers anyway, even during the pregnancy." "You don't have to justify yourself to me," said Angela. "It never came up before," he said, shrugging. "It will some day, and now we've talked about it. You'll have to make up your mind about it sooner or later, just like I did." "I don't know what I'll decide then, but I know that's not right for me now," she said. "Good." "This is NOT good!" she said, her voice rising. "You have no idea what this is yet," said Bob sternly. "This is much too new for you to be making up your mind now. You've got nine months to think about things, and you're GOING to think about things whether you want to or not. It's just the nature of the beast." "She's not a beast," said Angela impulsively. "She?" "I don't want to talk about this," she said, pouting. "Then don't," he said. "That's fine with me. You obviously didn't want to talk about it before it happened, and you're free, white and over eighteen, so it's really none of my business, other than the fact that, in the future, I obviously need to be the one to tend to any of Dub's medical needs. "That's what Ezra said," said Angela, her voice dreamy. "What? Ezra?" "He caught us one day while I was..." She came alert. "Never mind that. He found out about what Dub and I were doing, and he said it was none of his business and that we were both free, white and over eighteen." "It's just a saying," said Bob. "All it means is that, legally, you're an adult." "It sounds bad somehow," she said. "The meaning used to be a little different than it is these days," he said. "The point is that you have to make the decisions, and live with the consequences." "I guess I do," she said. She hung her head. "You want the rest of the day off?" he asked. "I'm not sure being alone is a good idea right now," she said. "I can make a call," said Bob. "I imagine they'd cut Dub loose for an afternoon if I asked them to." "No!" she yipped. "If you're going to have this baby, you should tell him," said Bob softly. "Half of this is his doing, and he deserves to know." "He'll think he has to marry me," she said. "Would that be the end of the world?" She looked up sharply, expecting to see a grin, but his face was serious. "You could do much worse," he said. "I don't know what group of men you think about when ... if ... you ever contemplate settling down, but I know HIM well enough to know that he stands head and shoulders above most of them. And I'm not talking about his height." "It's ridiculous," she said impulsively. "If you make it so," he countered. "I think I'll take that afternoon off after all," she said, her tone biting. "I think that's a good idea," he said. "Go for a drive in the mountains. She had never developed any place in this town that seemed like a sanctuary, so there was no "destination" for her to go to. So she did, in fact, go for a drive. She noticed she was taking the same route into the mountains that Bob had directed her, that time she'd taken him for a ride, but thought it was just the coincidence of there being so few routes out of town. When she saw the pull-out they'd stopped at, impulse caused her to jerk the car toward it. She sat in the car for a few moments, but the glass seemed to separate her from the reality of the mountains, so she turned the car off and got out. She went to the guard rail and gazed out at the scene. She was surprised to feel the calm she had experienced before, seeping into her bones. She still couldn't believe it. She looked down at her still-flat stomach, and brought her right hand to lay on her abdomen. There was a BABY in there! She felt a stab of something that zipped through her on a physical plane. She couldn't determine whether it was fear, or excitement. Excitement seemed ludicrous, because there was no way, shape or form that she should be excited about being pregnant. But she didn't feel afraid of anything. She knew she was healthy, and that women in her family line didn't traditionally have difficult pregnancies. The thought of BEING a mother didn't scare her. She didn't feel qualified to be a mother, but that could be dealt with. She had assumed she'd have children some day. She just hadn't planned on it being now. Her unfocused eye caught some hint of movement, and she focused on the spot she though it had come from. Her mind suggested it might have been brown, possibly a deer. She couldn't see anything now, though. The deer were out there, roaming around looking for something to eat, worrying about predators. She suddenly found herself thinking about bringing a baby into the world, where it would have to eat and worry about predators, just like the deer. That made her think of Dub and, for the first time since she found out she was pregnant, in her minds eye she saw the two of them with the child. She didn't think of him as the provider. He filled the role of protector in an unstable and troubling world. She could lean on him, and he'd be rock solid. She snorted and swung her head. Knowing that Dub Fisher would stand by her was one thing. But contemplating HAVING him standing by her was different. The first thing she thought of was a formal dinner, where he was escorting her into the dining room ... dressed in overalls and bare footed, his shaggy hair hanging down in his eyes, and everyone laughing at him ... feeling sorry for Angela that she was saddled with such a country bumpkin. She felt almost physically ill because of the guilt that stabbed into her like a lance. Dub didn't deserve to be laughed at. He was what he was, and he was very good at it. He would survive nicely in the mountains, without any technology, while all those people laughing at him would starve to death. She snorted again. What was the likelihood that any of them would be required to live off the land? Practically zero. What was the likelihood that she'd be invited to a dinner party some day? Practically certain. Still, she felt like she had right after she took her MCAT, and was afraid she'd blown it, and would never be accepted into any medical college. She stepped forward and gripped the hand rail again, her eyes moving all over the mountain in front of her, trying to find that peace again, searching for it. It eluded her this time, and eventually she went back to the car. On the way home she stopped at a roadside stand and got a cheeseburger with the works, big enough to feed three, and fries that, as she ate them, made her almost feel her arteries clogging up. They were delicious, though, and did something to calm her. She took the thirty-two ounce soft drink into the car with her, but the cup was too big to fit any of her cup holders so, after drinking only a third of it, she dumped the rest out the window so she didn't have to constantly hold the cup. Bob was home by the time she got there. He was making soup when she walked in. "I already ate," she said. "Okay," he said, not looking at her. "Feel better?" "Yes." She actually was feeling better, but it sounded wrong and felt wrong to say it. "No," she amended. "I don't know what to feel." "It's normal," he said. "You'll figure things out eventually." "Yes, but like you said, Dub is part of the equation too. I can't wait forever to tell him something, and I have to decide what I want before I do that." "I have an radical idea," said Bob, putting his forefinger to the corner of his forehead. "Maybe you and he could make decisions ... together!" "I already know what he's going to decide," she said firmly. "Oh you do." "Yes. He told me how "courtin'," as he put it, works around here. I'm not wild about his mother contacting my mother. I'm not wild about ME contacting my mother, for that matter." "Because you're ashamed of Dub and his mother," said Bob. "NO!" she shouted. The stab of agony zapped through her again as guilt almost overwhelmed her. It was guilg both from lying and for feeling exactly what Bob had accused her of. It was so painful she HAD to tell the truth. "All right," she said. "So I think they're a little provincial. They ARE provincial ... aren't they?" "By your mother's standards, most likely," said Bob calmly. "Is your mother going to have to live with them?" "I don't want to live with them," said Angela. "I feel terrible for saying it, but it's true. And his mother is NOT going to be thrilled about this either." "You do know you wouldn't have to actually go and live in their house," said Bob. "Of course," she said. "I know I could take Dub 'away from all that', and his mother would hate me for it." "You ever met his mother?" asked Bob. "She's the one who started all this when she brought him in and asked me to teach him how to masturbate," said Angela in a rush of unplanned speech. The corners of Bob's mouth started up, but stopped. "So that's how it happened," he said softly. He chuckled, then, unable to suppress it. "It's not funny, Bob," fumed Angela. "I know," he said. "But I'd dearly love to have seen that." "You're a dirty old man," she jabbed. "Guilty as charged," he said. "So you had him drop his pants." "I didn't know what else to do," she said. "And let me guess," he said. "He needed a little help, and one thing led to another ... right?" "I didn't mean for that to happen," she moaned. "No wonder his treatments were making him happy," said Bob. "You are not helping, Bob," she said, but there was no heat in her voice. "I'd have been happy to help you if you'd have called me before you took on that particular course of treatment," he said. "You were in the hospital," she said. "How could you have helped?" "Remember, I've been his doctor since he was a wee lad," said Bob. "I've done a hernia check on him before. If you'd have called me I'd have warned you to be prepared for his ... um stature." Angela blushed. "Oh," she said. "I admit I WAS surprised." "I can see how that thing would turn a girl's head," said Bob. "Did he actually get that whole thing..." He stopped suddenly and looked away. "Never mind. I'm sorry. It's just that, as a doctor, I wondered how he would fare when he eventually was exposed to women." He turned around again. "Obviously things worked out." He frowned. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded." He turned around again. "It's all right," sighed Angela. "None of this is your fault." "More's the pity," he said. "What?" He looked over his shoulder. "Get used to the idea that as men around town realize you are with child, there will be the heavy scent of jealousy and wishful thinking in the air." "What are you talking about?" she asked. "I'm talking about the fact that practically every man in town has thought of getting you pregnant, and all but one of them are going to be sorely disappointed that somebody else got to do it." "I can't believe you said that!" she squeaked. "It's true," he said. "Dub never thought about getting me pregnant!" she insisted. "Okay," he said. "Every man in town but one has thought about getting you pregnant, and only the philosophers among us are going to appreciate the irony of the fact that the only man who didn't think about it was the one who ended up doing it." "Now you're being ridiculous," she said. "I'm just kidding around," he said. His eyes dropped to her breasts in a clearly obvious leer before coming back up to her face. "No I'm not." He grinned. "Look, all I'm saying is that while you might be seeing this as a disaster, that doesn't mean everybody else is going to see it the same way." "THEY don't have to carry the child!" she snapped. "No, but some of them are related to the child, and will worry about it, and care about it and love it, both before and after it's born. They're fully involved, if only on an emotional level. And you know from first hand how strong emotions can be. That's what got you in this condition ... yes?" She had to admit that was true. "Do you like Dub?" he asked suddenly. "I'd think that was fairly obvious," replied Angela. "It could have been just hormones," said Bob. "Do you LIKE him? Do you like talking to him, and being around him when you aren't trying to fell that tree of his?" "Bob!" moaned Angela, embarrassed. "Do you even know if you like him or not?" "I DO like him," she said firmly. "He's sweet, and generous, and gentle." "But he's not educated, or urbane or rich," said Bob. "I don't care about that!" said Angela. "He has a good heart, and he's a good man." "So the problem is that you're not good enough for him?" Her eyes jerked to his, shocked. "I'm a doctor!" she yipped, as if that conferred some special worth on her as a human being. "And he unloads trucks," said Bob. "Both of which somebody has to do. Whoopee." "I just can't see it," she moaned. "I know I should be able to, but I can't." "Remember when I took you to the mountains?" he asked "I took YOU to the mountains," she corrected. He ignored her. "You didn't know how to look at them ... remember?" "Yes." "And I taught you how to." "Yes." "And we talked about Dub." "I remember," she said. "But I didn't know what you meant." "I meant you needed to look at Dub with your new eyes ... like you looked at the mountain with your new eyes." "I don't know how to do that," she moaned. "Okay," he said. "Then try this. Tell me what you don't like about Dub Fisher." She was quiet for a few seconds. "I don't know." "What does he do that makes you want to slap him?" "It sounds presumptuous, but he kind of puts me on a pedestal," she said. "It's not presumptuous if it's true," said Bob. "And that makes you mad?" "He's not supposed to do that." "Why not?" "Because you save that for somebody special," she said. "And you don't think you're special." His tone assumed she agreed. "Not like that," she said. "What if it IS like that?" he asked. "We agreed we weren't courting," she said stubbornly. "I was just helping him." "Oh come on," said Bob. "You and I both know there was more going on there than you just helping him get rid of a stiff penis." "Yes, but there SHOULDN'T have been!" she insisted. "What if he has fallen in love with you?" asked Bob, relentlessly. "I don't KNOW!" she said loudly. "Why are you torturing me?" "Because I think you love him," said Bob. "WHY?" she yelled. "Because the Angela I know doesn't just hop in the sack with any Tom, Dick or Harry who comes along. She's too level headed and serious for that kind of thing. Which means that things went as far as they did because some part of you WANTED them to. I know Dub well enough to be pretty damn sure he was just there. Did he rape you?" "NO!" She felt a surge of anger that Bob could even suggest that. "If anything I raped HIM!" she added. "And how many times have you done that in the past?" "That's none of your business!" she said sullenly. "Answer the question, Angela," he insisted. "Never!" she snapped. "I was a virgin, and so was he. And things got out of hand and I let something happen that I didn't want to happen. There. Are you happy now?" "Oh, you wanted it to happen," said Bob. "No I did NOT!" she insisted. "Why'd you go hunting with him in the first place?" asked Bob. "Because I like him!" she argued. "I like being around him and I wanted to see him in his element." "So you're really happy now that you never see him any more, right?" asked Bob. "Of COURSE NOT!" she shouted. "I'M FUCKING MISERABLE!" She stopped suddenly and her mouth went into an "O" shape. She covered it with one hand. Bob just smiled and bowed. "I rest my case. You need to go have a little chat with Dub and get things settled between you." The enormity of the epiphany Bob had basically bludgeoned into her skull had Angela still reeling. It was as if a secret door had opened, behind which there was a big sign in neon lights that was flashing frantically "I LOVE DUB FISHER!" Then reality rushed back in like cold ocean waves, trying to destroy her carefully built sand castle. "If I go there now, they'll just think I'm trying to get him on the hook for the baby," she said. "He'll never believe I love him. I said horrible things to him, Bob." "If you apologize and mean it, he'll know," said Bob gently. Angela slumped. "His mother is going to be so furious. You heard Lula Mae. They depend on Dub, and now it's going to look like I'm trying to take him away." "Both girls have prospects," said Bob. "Pretty good ones for girls in this town, I might add. And I'm sure you and Dub will work out what to do about Molly." "Is that her name?" asked Angela. "Molly Fisher. It sounds so much softer than she seems." "She's had a tough go of it since Hank died," said Bob. "She did a good job, though. On the other hand, the boy is almost twenty-one, and if he really didn't know how to masturbate, then maybe she sheltered them a little too much." "He just never had a chance to do what came naturally," she said. "He was so THANKFUL when I..." She stopped and blushed furiously. "I can imagine," said Bob. "In fact, I can imagine a little too well. I need to get out of here before I embarrass myself. Go see him. Just sit and talk with him and tell him how you feel. You're going to be here for a long time, and you have a shot at what I think is real happiness. Use your new eyes, Angela. You're not in the city. He fits in just fine here. It's YOU who is the odd one out in Turkey Hollow." Then, covering his crotch with one hand, he hustled toward his bedroom. ------- Chapter 9 She walked to his house, instead of driving. Part of that was because the neighbors might wonder what was going on if she parked her car there. And if things didn't work out, the neighbors didn't need to know anything about it. On the way she admitted that she also walked because it delayed what she was afraid would turn into a confrontation. What if Molly Fisher accused her of lying, to try to trap an innocent young man? What if she judged Angela as an unacceptable match for her son? Angela even imagined an enraged Molly slapping her and calling her a tramp, or worse. Then she was on his street. The yards were large, and there were only three houses on the entire block, all of them well past their prime. Still, she knew that neighbors could see her walk up to the house and go through the gate. The porch steps creaked as she climbed them. There was no doorbell. She knocked. She thought it was Lula Mae who answered the door, until the girl said "Oh! You're the doctor lady, ain't you." She realized it must be the twin and struggled to remember her name. "I'm Darcy," said the girl, smiling. "Glad to meecha." She turned. "Mamma, the doctor lady is here!" she yelled. A male voice sounded with one word. "What?" Darcy turned back to Angela. "Are you here to see Dub?" she asked hopefully. "I guess so," said Angela. The girl turned and bellowed "Never mind, Mamma, she's here to see Dub." She saw Dub first. He looked around a corner and saw her at the door with his sister. His chest was bare, but he was wearing jeans. His mother glided past him, slapping him on one shoulder lightly, and said "Put on a shirt, Dub, you ain't decent." Angela's heart sank. If going bare-chested wasn't decent, Dub's mother would be horrified at what else he and the devil woman had done. "Darcy, invite the woman in!" she snapped. "You don't keep visitors on the porch!" "Oh!" yipped Darcy and stepped back. "Please come in." Molly was straightforward, assuming the visit was in Angela's professional capacity. "Is anything the matter?" she asked. "Lula Mae said she didn't have to go back until tomorrow." "It's not about her," said Angela, plucking up her courage. "We'll pay," said Molly. "Just might have to wait until the end of the week, when Dub gets paid." "I'm not here about that either," said Angela. In a rush, she got it out. "It's about Dub ... and me." Molly's eyes narrowed. She turned and said "Darcy, go make sure Lula Mae is in the bedroom. Stay in there with her until I come get you. Close the door and don't spy." "Yes, Mamma," said the girl with meekness that was completely atypical for a sixteen year old girl, from Angela's point of view. She hustled off, looking over her shoulder at Angela briefly. Dub reappeared, buttoning a shirt. He looked wary. "Hi," he said to Angela. Molly just stood there. Obviously she didn't plan on going anywhere. "I need to talk to you," Angela said, trying to ignore his mother for the moment. "Okay," he said. He glanced at his mother. "Here?" "She's not happy, Dub," said Molly. "Maybe I should just hear this too." "It's not that I'm not happy," said Angela. "I'm scared, actually." "Of him?" Molly looked incredulous. "Of course not," said Angela. The woman's eyes narrowed again. "Then it mus be me you're nervous about." "I don't know," said Angela. "Maybe a little." Molly cocked her head and examined Angela. Then her eyes widened and she took a deep breath. "You took it a bit farther than I asked you to ... didn't you," she said. "I guess that's a fair thing to say," said Angela softly. Both women looked at Dub, who was standing there. He wasn't tense, exactly, but he looked very alert. "You been courtin' this woman?" asked his mother. His answer surprised both of them. "I'm not for sure about that, Mamma." Molly folded her arms. "Well, then, let's just all go sit on the porch, where it's a bit cooler. I 'spect we all got some talkin' to do, and some understandin' to git to." ------- It wasn't hit or miss, exactly, but things jerked around a bit, conversationally speaking. Neither young lover wanted to admit to the older woman any details about what had happened. Dub seemed particularly worried that he had broken some sacrosanct rule, and finally Angela just took over. "It started out innocently enough," she said. "I haven't had much experience with men. All my attention went toward getting through college and into medical school. And when I began his ... um ... treatments ... well ... I got interested, I guess." "He's hung like a horse," said Molly calmly. "Known that for a long time." "That's what they said too!" said Dub, and then subsided as if he was afraid he wasn't allowed to just talk whenever he felt like it. "They?" "Holly was advising me during the early stages," explained Angela. "Go on," said Molly. "Well, he got the idea, but it wasn't working well and I ... well I guess I helped a little." "Lordy, Lordy," sighed Molly. "That's why when he got home, he let the girls help." "He told me about that," said Angela. "And I agreed to help him some more, and we spent some time together and I didn't realize it but ... I like your son, Mrs. Fisher. I like him a lot." "I knew you was carrying on some," said Molly. "I weren't sure what it meant, you bein' a doctor and all, and Dub was doin' good, but I never imagined it might get to the courtin' stage of things." "I didn't either," said Angela. "I didn't intend for it to get that far." She looked at Dub. "I said some really terrible things to you, Dub. I'm sorry about that. I wasn't looking at you with my new eyes." "New eyes?" he asked, clearly confused. "It's something Bob ... Doctor Kimble taught me," she said. That didn't seem like enough to explain it so she went on. "He took me up into the mountains and taught me how to look at them and really see all the different parts. And I saw you, but I wasn't looking at all the different parts of you." Molly snorted and covered her mouth. Her shoulders shook for a full fifteen seconds before Angela realized she was trying to stifle a giggling fit. Angela realized why she was giggling, but couldn't feel the humor herself. Instead, she just blurted it all out to get it over with. "I fell in love with him, and I didn't know it, and things went too far, and now I'm pregnant." That cured Molly's giggles rather abruptly. To Angela's amazement, she looked confused. "When could that have happened?" she asked. "When he went hunting," said Angela. "I went with him." Molly's eyes got round, and then returned to normal. She seemed to think for a few seconds and then suddenly said "I knew somebody besides Dub cleaned those fish." "You're pregnant?" Dub's voice sounded faint, like it was coming from far away. She nodded. "I don't blame you, Dub." She looked at Molly. "I'm not here to blame him. It was my fault. I knew better, but I let things get all out of hand." "Takes two to tango," said Molly flashing a look at her son. "Honestly, he tried NOT to," said Angela urgently. "He was a perfect gentleman. He tried to talk me out of it in fact. That's part of what made me fall in love with him." Molly looked at her askance. "Honey, I done what you done a number of times, and I just cain't imagine how that could happen without the man bein' on board the train when it left the station, sos to speak." Trying to defend Dub's honor let Angela say more than she would have otherwise. "I didn't know enough to bring a sleeping bag or tent, so he shared his with me," she said. "But it was so small ... and I got on top of him ... and things got sort of accidentally arranged for it, and he couldn't do anything about it. He was telling me to stop but I just couldn't." "On top of him?" Molly fanned her face. "Lordy, Lordy, what will they think of next?" "It really wasn't his fault." The woman turned to her son. "Why didn't you just push her off?" "It happened kind of fast, Mamma," he said, frowning. "An then my brain got all jangly and I suppose I didn't WANT to push her off." Molly nodded, looked at Angela, and then back at her son. She stood. "Well then," she said, looking suddenly tired. "I'll leave you young'uns to work it all out." "Mamma?" Dub was obviously unhappy his mother was leaving, which caused conflicting feelings in Angela. On one hand, she was scared to death, and could imagine Dub feeling the same way. On the other, his apparent lack of eagerness to claim the woman he'd made pregnant made her feel alone and unwanted. "I'm not making any claim on you, Dub," she said, trying to be calm. He looked away from his mother's retreating back and at her face. "What does that mean?" "It means I'm not asking you to marry me," she said. She prepared herself for him to relax, and for the pain she could feel waiting in the wings until he formally abandoned her. "You better not!" he said, suddenly indignant. What little preparation she had made for this kept her from crying immediately, but she knew if she stayed she would bawl, and then get mad, and then shout and make a scene. She did not want to make a scene. So she stood, ready to flee the house. "It's bad enough you got yourself pregnant," he said harshly. The threat of tears vanished. "What?" she gasped, unable to believe he'd try to blame all this on her. "An its even worse that I got nothing to call my own 'ceptin' the clothes I wear, and that we didn't do no proper courtin', but I'll be DAMNED -" He looked stricken for an instant, said "Sorry for cussin'," and then went right back into his rage. "if the WOMAN is gonna ask the MAN to get hitched!" Angela closed her mouth as what she desperately hoped was understanding flooded into her. "You're mad because you thought I was going to ask you to marry me?" she asked. "It ain't proper!" he insisted. "That's the man's job." "Are you going to ask me, then?" she asked. He looked confused. "You'd prob'ly say no," he said. He frowned. "But you cain't say no ... cause you got with child." "And that's my fault," she said, her voice even, but filled with tension again. "It's not anybody's fault," he said immediately. "I thought you said I got myself pregnant," she said. "I mean you got on top of me and did that an you weren't s'posed to, cause you said you didn't want to and I agreed not to an all that." He frowned. "I mean I was there. I remember that real clear and all." He stopped and his head tilted to one side as he looked at her. "You're sad about this ... right?" She felt the urge to scream at him, but her mind, recognizing that she had already misunderstood some things, told her to keep her cool. "About what, exactly?" she asked. "You wish you wasn't pregnant," he said. She took a breath to affirm his suspicion, but then realized that, if she said "Yes," it would only be partially true. That fact astonished her and left her reeling. She sensed he was about to say something and automatically reached to press one of her fingers on his lips while she grappled with the myriad of thoughts going through her mind. Her conversation with Bob had illuminated the fact that she loved this man. That scared her because she'd never really been in love before, and it was hard to trust that it was real, or the right thing to do. She looked at him. "Do you love me?" she asked suddenly. She took her finger away from his lips. "What?" His eyebrows rose. "Do you love me?" she asked again. His face twisted. "I don't know. What's that s'posed to feel like?" Taking a page from Bob's book, she asked: "What are the things about me that you really don't like, or that make you mad?" "I didn't like it when you stopped coming to see me," he said instantly. "When I figured out you wasn't going to come no more, I felt all sick and miserable." Angela felt something other than fear, discomfort, and anger for the first time since she'd walked into the house. "I'm sorry about that. I shouldn't have done that. I should have at least talked to you, but I was confused and scared." "What were you scared of?" he asked. "You," she said softly. "But I'd never hurt you!" he objected. "I know that. What I mean was that I was afraid I was in love with you." "And you didn't want to be in love with me," he said, his voice sad. "I DECIDED I didn't want to be in love with you," she said. "But I don't think that's how it works, Dub. I don't think you can just decide who you're going to fall in love with and who you're not. It happens, and there's nothing you can do about it. I was fighting it, and I was miserable too." "I'm confused," he said. "You asked me if I'm sorry I got pregnant," she said. "The answer is that I'm not sure. I didn't plan on getting pregnant, and I didn't plan on falling in love either. But both happened. The real question is do you love ME?" "You love me?" His voice sounded eight years old suddenly. It was the tone of a little boy who sees a huge present under the tree Christmas morning, and asks, hopefully "Is that really for me?" She shook off the fear that reached for her. "Yes, Dub. I love you." "Wow," he said. "I cain't believe that!" A new voice pierced the air in the room. "Can we come out yet?" complained Lula Mae. "We're fit to die of boredom in here." Angela looked through the open front door ans saw the girl's head sticking out of the bedroom door. She saw that Molly Fisher was sitting in a rocking chair, knitting. The woman showed no outward signs of having heard anything, but it would have been impossible for her not to hear the conversation. Angela flushed, feeling juvenile and foolish for her inexperience with men and relationships. "No!" barked Molly, still not looking up from her needles. Dub must have also realized his mother was listening, because he said "It's all right, Mamma. They can come out. Angela and me are gonna go for a walk." "That's fine," said Molly, and kept rocking. ------- The break in their talk seemed to make it hard to start up again. They walked in silence for a few minutes, side by side, until Dub, looking sideways at her, reached for her hand. She let him take it. They walked on until he broke the silence. "You said you could never marry me." "I know," she said. "I was being a bitch." "Angela!" he scolded her. "Well I was," she said. "Do you remember one time when you said you had nothing to offer a woman?" "Yeah," he said. "And I said you were wrong." "Yeah." "Would you have said the same thing to a neighbor girl you liked?" "There ain't no girls amongst our neighbors," he said. "Work with me here, Dub," she groaned. "Suppose there was a girl you kind of liked, and suppose she lived next door. Would you have told her you had nothing to offer?" "I s'pose not," he said. "She could come live with us and I'd work and all that." "So why am I different?" she asked. He laughed. "You're smart. You're a doctor. You ain't gonna come live with some hillbilly in his mamma's house." "You were stereotyping me," she said. "You assumed some things about me that might not be true, because I'm not from around here." "WOULD you come live with us?" he asked. "No," she said. "But not for the reasons you think." "Why, then." "We'll get to that later," she said. "What's important right now is that I let some stereotypes affect my decisions too. That's why I said I could never marry you. I didn't see myself as the kind of woman who could fall in love with a hillbilly." "But you did," he said. "I did," she agreed. "An now you want to know if I love you." "I do." He was silent for a long while, but she felt his grip on her hand tighten slowly, until it verged on being painful. "Dub," she finally said, pulling at the hand. "You're starting to hurt my hand." He stopped, let go of her hand, and turned to face her. "Sorry," he said. He stared into her face. "I never been in love before," he said. "So I don't know what it's like. Can I ask some questions?" "I guess so," she said, feeling a little lost. "I thought about you goin' away again, and never comin' back," He frowned. "I don't like that. That makes me want to break somethin'. An then I thought about bein' hitched to you, an you having the baby and all that, an that makes me want to sing like we do in church. Is that like love?" "I think so," said Angela, feeling a wave of relief. "But I can't see no place where we could do that, 'cause you said you won't move in with Mamma, and I cain't afford a house of our own, like you said there's s'posed to be, an that makes me feel sad again." Angela smiled. "I can afford it, Dub." He blinked. "Huh?" She corrected herself. "What I should have said is that WE can afford it. With me working and you working, I think we can afford our own house." she corrected. "I was going to find my own place, but living with Bob was so easy I sort of never got around to it." "But you're gonna have a baby," he said. "That doesn't mean I have to stop working," she said. "Oh," he said. He smiled, but it fell off his face. "I forgot about Mamma. She cain't do for the girls without me." A look of anguish twisted his features. "But you got my baby inside you. I don't know what to do!" Angela shoved aside her initial thoughts. She was trying to think with the new brain that went with her new eyes. "Dub, I think we can afford a house big enough that there will be a room in it for your mamma." "Really?" Dub looked happy, but only marginally so. "What about the twins?" "I believe Lula Mae told me they both want to get married, but your mamma won't let them." "So we need to talk to mamma," he said. "Not yet." He looked at her. "Why not?" "Because you haven't asked me to marry you yet," she said softly. ------- Molly had moved to the porch swing, but was still knitting. She knew she'd have to take all the stitches out, because she could already see five mistakes, but it was the only thing she could do to keep from pacing. The girls, once out of their room, peppered her with anxious questions that she couldn't answer, so she told them to start getting supper ready and went out on the porch. She looked up for possibly the thousandth time and finally saw them walking toward her. Her eyes narrowed as she realized they were holding hands. She wasn't sure just how to feel about that. Not that she could do much. She had been uncomfortable about what she required of Dub for several years now, but her choices had been severely limited. They still were, for that matter. She watched them come toward her and centered her attention on the woman. All she had ever known her as was a doctor. That was hard enough to swallow - a woman being a doctor - but in spite of the fact that she was walking with Dub, and holding his hand, she just couldn't see the two of them together as a mated pair. It was like putting a fine, papered Arabian horse with a Clydesdale and asking them to pull a plow. It just didn't seem like it could work. Surely no doctor would ever consent to such a pairing. And doctors knew all about making a baby problem go away. Maybe that's what they had decided. She didn't know quite how to feel about that idea either, though. The idea that her first grandbaby might not be allowed into the world made her chest feel like she'd been kicked by a mule. Her heart skipped a beat as the two walked up the porch steps and she looked at her son's face. He had a dazed look ... like HE had been kicked by a mule too. "Well?" Molly's voice cracked and she swallowed. Angela was the one who spoke. "Mrs. Fisher ... Molly ... Dub has asked me to marry him. I said yes, but we won't go forward with it unless you agree." "You don't need my agreement," said Molly softly. "He's a grown man." Angela was calm. "I'm not going to ask Dub to leave you in the lurch with two teenage girls and no real income." "An I don't see you movin' in with us," said Molly, just as calmly. That calm was only on the outside, though. "Dub and I have talked about that. If we get married we're going to want our own house ... big enough to raise a family in. But we won't need all that room right away. And I'm going to keep working, which means we'll need someone to look after the children ... the baby ... in the daytime ... someone we trust." Molly might not have had a formal education, but she wasn't stupid. She also didn't consider babysitting a grandchild as being taken advantage of. "Well I'll be damned," she said softly. That was enough to shock Dub out of the barely suppressed elation that was gripping him like a bear. "Mamma!" he said, his voice shocked. "Would you consider that?" asked Angela. "To be honest, I don't want to wait a long time to get married." "I can imagine," said Molly, looking at Angela's still flat stomach. "I'm not talking about that," said Angela. "Even if I have to wait, I'll be proud of Dub's baby. I love it already, no matter what. I just don't want to keep living the single life." The corner of the older woman's mouth curved upwards slightly. "I can imagine that too," she said. Angela felt a blush heat up her cheeks. "We'd like to start looking for a house right away." Molly's anxiety over Dub leaving eased significantly. Still, she didn't know this woman yet. That would come in time, but two women in one house was always a dicey arrangement. "I'd have my own room?" she asked. "And bathroom," said Angela. "What about the girls?" "They might have to still share a room. It depends on what we can afford. But there will be at least two bathrooms." Molly nodded. "Who would do the cooking?" "We can share that responsibility, if you want to," said Angela carefully. "What would I do with this place?" Molly asked, waving one hand at her house. "Sell it," said Angela. "You've worked hard all your life. You could buy some things you've had to do without." "Wouldn't bring much," said Molly. "Is it important that it does?" The older woman pursed her lips. "I reckon not, at that." Her eyes bored into Angela's. "You sure about this?" Angela shrugged. "All I'm sure about is that I'm in love with your son, and I'm going to have his baby. I know this won't be easy, but I'm willing to try my best to make things work for all of us." Molly pushed with her feet and the porch swing swayed slightly. "Well I'll be damned," she sighed. Her sharp gaze centered on Dub, who was about to castigate her again for her language. She interrupted him. "I thought you wanted to go look at houses. What are you doin' lollygaggin' around here?" ------- Their tour of real estate in Turkey Hollow would have been fairly abbreviated anyway, but it was shortened even more because Angela wanted to go tell Bob the big news before they looked for a realtor. He was practically effusive in his praise for their decision. Then, when they said they were going house hunting, he asked them to wait a moment. He got on the phone in the kitchen, spoke briefly with someone, and returned. "I knew about this place for a while, but I thought it was too big for you, Angela, so I didn't mention it to you when you moved here." He looked at Dub. "You know the Herrington place." Dub nodded. "Well it's for sale. It's been for sale for almost a year, ever since Donald Herrington lost his car dealership when he went bankrupt last year. The bank took it over and the price has been going down every month since it went on the market. There isn't anybody in Turkey Hollow that wants it, and not much chance of anybody moving into town who could afford it ... except maybe you, Angela. I just talked to Wendy, down at the bank, and she's salivating for a chance to show it to somebody." Wendy was, in fact, clearly elated to be showing the house. Her only comment when she saw who the couple was "Well now, isn't this interesting!" Half an hour later Angela and Dub were walking through a slightly musty smelling four bedroom ranch style home that had 3,200 square feet of living area and a detached three car garage. Dub's eyes were huge as he looked into the master bedroom, which was as large as the kitchen/dining/living room area of his mother's house. His boots sank into luxurious, thick carpet. The bathroom had both a big glass-enclosed shower area and a sunken whirlpool tub, and all the fixtures were gold colored. "We cain't afford somethin' like this!" he whispered to Angela, who was looking critically at windows that had no drapes or blinds on them. Something would have to be done about that, and that would cost extra. "We don't know how much they're asking," whispered Angela back. "It don't matter," he said, his eyes rolling. "There ain't no way we can afford to live here, no matter how cheap THEY think it is." "Relax," said Angela. "We're just looking." The three other bedrooms were smaller, but still bigger than the one Dub shared with his sisters. There was a formal dining room, and a family room that looked like it had an acre of hard wood floor in it. "You could roller skate in here," joked Angela. "We'll throw in two pairs of skates with the deal," said Wendy, quite seriously. "Thanks for bringing us here," said Angela, "but I think this is probably a little above our budget." "Make me an offer," said Wendy, still quite serious. "Honestly, we appreciate it, but what I could offer would be an insult," said Angela. "So, insult me," said Wendy. "We haven't had a single offer on this house and it's killing us. I'm not supposed to tell you that, but we need to get rid of it and, you being a doctor and all, you're the only person I've shown it to who might be able to do something the bank could live with." "What can the bank live with?" asked Angela. Wendy frowned. "I'm not supposed to tell you that either," she said. "You want to sell it," said Angela. "You tell me what the bank can live with and I'll tell you whether you're going to have to keep showing it or not." "You're playing hardball," moaned Wendy. "Look at us, Wendy. "I'm a doctor with less than a year's experience and Dub unloads trucks at the feed mill." "I know Dub," said Wendy. "The only reason he's here is because he's with you." She snapped her mouth closed. "No offense, Dub," she added. "None taken," he said happily. "I'm getting' a kick out of just seeing something this fancy." "The economy is suffering right now," said Angela. "You don't have to tell me," said Wendy. "Oh, all right. I can't tell you an exact price, but we're into it for a hundred and eighty-five thousand. Nobody has offered above a hundred thousand." "I need to sit down," said Dub weakly. "But I don't want to get nothin' dirty in a house that expensive." Angela took her phone out and turned it into a calculator. She punched buttons rapidly, and then looked up. "Does the bank really want to get rid of this, or will they play hardball too?" "We don't want it," said Wendy. "Tell you what. We'll offer a hundred and fifteen thousand," said Angela firmly. Apparently the bank REALLY wanted to get rid of the house, because Wendy's almost instant response was "Deal!" Angela's next thought was that she should have simply offered a hundred and ten. ------- Both young people were in a bit of a daze when they left. Within half a day they had agreed to get married, gotten Dub's mother on board with the idea, and found a place to live that was nicer than either of them could yet believe. Wendy had set up an appointment for them at the bank the next day to formally start the process. Now, after the incredible excitement of being told the house would be theirs, they drove away somewhat aimlessly. "Should we go tell Mamma?" asked Dub. "Not yet," said Angela. "Something might go wrong. Let's wait until we know it's a done deal. "Yeah," he said. He actually wiggled in his seat. "What should we do now? Are you hungry? I'm starved. I could sure go for a hamburger right now." He reached into his lap and rubbed, grabbed and pushed. "What's wrong?" asked Angela, glancing over at him. "Nothing," he said, looking surprised. "You were just playing with yourself," she said. "No I wasn't," he said. "It just feels good to touch it when it's hard." "You have an erection?" Angela laughed. "I've had one ever since you said you'd get hitched to me," he said. "Dub!" she squealed. "That was hours ago!" "Yeah," he agreed. "Isn't that how we met?" she laughed. "I guess it is," he said. "It feels good to get hard for you again." "We have to do something about it," she said. "Has it been four hours yet?" Dub didn't own a watch, and his first instinct was to lean down and look out the car window at the sun. "Don't know. Maybe." He turned to look at her. "You gonna suck it?" he asked hopefully. "Oh no, Dub," she said firmly. "Awww, come on, Angela." "Not today," she said. "But we're gonna get hitched," he complained. "I know," she said. She kept her eyes straight ahead and Dub realized she wasn't going to help him. "Man!" he groaned. He rubbed at his stiff member again. "We'll take care of it when we get back to Bob's," said Angela. A few minutes later Dub was firmly gripping the passenger assist handle that folded down from the roof of the car over the passenger door. "Ain't you goin' a mite fast?" he asked as the car leaned hard through a curve. "It's been almost four hours, Dub," she said. "Oh ... yeah." Five minutes later they arrived at Bob's, stopping with a lurch. Angela threw open her door and lunged out. "Come on!" she yelled at Dub, holding out her hand. He took it and she pulled as she tried to run. She may as well have been trying to pull the car. "It don't hurt, Angela," he said. "I don't care," she growled. Bob was drinking coffee and reading the evening paper when they stormed in through the back door. "How'd it go?" he asked as the two of them stampeded across the kitchen toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. "Really good!" shouted Angela. "Tell you about it later!" Bob heard the trampling of feet, and then the slam of a bedroom door. Then silence. He grinned. ------- Angela started tearing at her clothing as she went through the door. "What's wrong?" asked Dub, concerned that she was acting so crazy. "Get your clothes off!" she snapped. "Close that door!" By the time the he closed the door and turned back around she was undoing her bra. She saw him look at her, and stopped. More slowly she let the cups slide down off her breasts. She wanted to pinch her nipples, which were already as stiff as they had ever been in her life. The look on his face as she bared her breasts to him made her pussy get suddenly wet. "Dub," she said. "I'm so horny I'm about to cum just from looking at you. Would you please get naked with me?" He had more or less frozen as he stared at her. He seemed to thaw out a bit at a time, first his face, which smiled, and then his shoulders and arms, and finally his lower body, as he stepped toward her and started undoing buttons. "I thought you said you wasn't gonna suck me," he said. "I'm not," she panted. "You want me to do it myself and then squirt on you?" he asked, frowning. "No, Dub honey," she said, pushing down her jeans and panties at the same time and shoving them off her feet. She stood, totally naked in front of him, and felt no hint of embarrassment. All she could feel was hunger in her loins. "I want you to squirt IN me." "What?" He was still half dressed. She felt hysterical laughter trying to form and burst out of her as she thought of it in his terms, but suppressed it. "I want to have relations with you, Dub." He blinked and froze again. "Oh." Then, his whole body unfroze at once. "OH!" he gasped. The button on his jeans suddenly flew away from him as if shot from a canon. The zipper gave a ragged snapping sound as the teeth ripped, rather than parted as designed. She made him even more frantic when she said "Hurry!" He looked to see that she was rubbing herself between her legs. As he watched her middle finger bent and disappeared inside her. She closed her eyes, bent her knees and spread them apart, not quite squatting as she fingerfucked her pussy. "Oh hurry, Dub," she moaned. Angela gave a yelp of surprise as she was suddenly lifted into strong arms and deposited roughly on the bed. The springs squeaked in protest. Then his bulk was over her and his lips were bruising hers. She spread her legs instinctively and resisted the urge to bite his lips and chew them. She couldn't wait. He broke the kiss and stopped, looming over her. One of his knees was between hers and his huge cock was bouncing gently as he moved. It tapped her hip. "I don't know what to do," he panted. "I mean I know I'm s'posed to be on top of you ... but what then?" She reached for his penis and pulled it toward her famished pussy. "Get between my legs," she panted. He did and she was able to bring the tip of his prick to her opening. With a whine of joy she used it to rub her clitty. "Now push!" she ordered. Instinct had told her where to put it. He simply did as he was told. He pushed and she let out an anguished cry of pain as she was suddenly split by something that felt like it was the size of a fire plug. Her cry of pain made him freeze just as she gasped "WAIT!" For Dub, the connection between the tight fist that had suddenly clamped down on the front half of his cock, and her cry of pain, was obvious. He had hurt her when he pushed. So he pulled until the pressure on him stopped. "No!" she moaned. "I hurt you," he said. "Put it back in," she whined. "Just not so fast." "I don't want to hurt you," he said. "Dub, honey, trust me. Just don't go so fast." Her hand came back to guide him again. He looked down past the breasts he couldn't get over and saw the tip of his willy kissing the lips he loved to kiss with his lips. Gently he began to move it forward. He saw her lips widen and then thin and get pale as his knob stretched them to allow him inside. "Keep going," she urged him, her mouth in a grimace. "I'm hurting you!" he accused. "Not so bad," she panted. "I want this!" Then the head was gone and her pussy lips got a little color in them again as they slid along his shaft, ever so slowly. He felt that pressure again, but it wasn't quite as tight as before. He felt the flesh surrounding his prod move and wiggle and his mouth dropped open as it felt like fingers were stroking and squeezing him. "Wow," he sighed as he eased in a little deeper. "Is this okay?" He pushed a little more into her. "AHHHHHHHHHH," she moaned, lifting her head off the bed and letting it flop back down. "Keep ... going," she huffed. "This feels so good," he sighed. The tip of his prick dug into something spongy, but firm. "Stop right there!" she gasped. He did so and looked down. He was almost all the way in her. Those fingers inside her rippled up and down his prick. "How do you do that?" he asked in wonder. "Do what?" she panted. "It feels like you've got a hand inside you and it's playing with me." "I don't know. Pull it out a little bit." He started to withdraw and pulled six inches out of her before her hands leapt up off the bed and onto his butt cheeks. They pulled, and she didn't have to say a word. He pushed back in. "Ohhhh fuck!" she groaned. "Angela," he chided gently. He felt the urge to poke that spongy area deep inside her and kept pushing. He felt his nuts bounce against her skin and knew he was all the way in her now. He groaned at how good it felt, and she groaned with him. Her groan sounded different, though, and her fingers never lessened their grip. He could feel her fingernails digging into his skin. Experimentally he pulled back, and didn't have to be told this time to return to full penetration. The same instinct that had caused his hand to speed up when he learned to masturbate, suggested he pull out and go back in faster too. He sped up a little, and then a little more, until he had a slow, measured rhythm going. Suddenly, on one of his down thrusts, he felt her hips buck upwards to meet him. "Oh Dub," she moaned. "Am I still hurting you?" "Oh no, baby," she laughed explosively. "Good," he said. "Can I keep going?" "You better," she said. "Good. 'Cause I like this a lot, and I want to keep going for a long time." "You can go for as long as you want," she gasped, throwing her pussy up at his invading prick again. What each of them wanted was one thing. What biology demanded was something else. Within a few minutes Dub had sped up more. His arms, used to hours on end of heavy lifting, were not complaining at all as he held himself up off her body. He was sure he'd crush her to death if he actually lay down on her. He felt the urge to push deeper each time he moved forward, even though he was already going as deep as he could. The urge caused him to get up onto his toes so that he could move upwards without hitting the inside of her thighs. That slight change in angle brought his shaft into constant contact with her clit, on both the in and the out stroke. Her reaction was both quick and startling, because within four or five strokes she pulled in a huge breath and wailed as an orgasm overwhelmed her with almost no warning. ------- Bob felt like the grin on his face might be permanently etched there as he grabbed his keys off the nail on the wall and headed out the door. He needed to go for a ride. He heard her wail again, said "Damn!" under his breath and reached to adjust his hard penis. It hadn't been that hard since before she'd moved in. Having her living under his roof had been good for his libido. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to be excited like that. Then she'd moved in, with her long legs, and that shorty robe she liked to wear. He couldn't just sit there and listen to her. She was obviously having the time of her life, but if he stayed there he'd be jerking off in his own kitchen within minutes. Bob had a better idea. The last time he'd done a routine physical exam on Shawna Willoughby she'd asked him to do a breast exam, to make sure she wasn't missing anything on her self exams. Shawna had married her high school sweetheart, a thing not unusual in Turkey Hollow, and then, in the boredom of being home alone all day with nothing to do, had taken up an interest in genealogy. When her research revealed she had Negroid relatives her husband had divorced her. She was ten years younger than Bob. The rest of town hadn't quite shunned her, but she wasn't invited to get-togethers either. Other than her employer, who ran the insurance company in town, Bob was the only adult male who had treated her with what she thought of as respect. She could talk to Doctor Bob, and he listened to her. She had even flirted with him a bit. Bob thought back to her last visit, and the fact that his examination of her breasts had taken much longer than a usual one. She'd enjoyed that exam, and so had he. Now, thanks to Angela, he was going to make a little house call, and suggest that maybe a follow up exam might be in order. ------- "Oh Dub, baby, don't ever stop!" wailed Angela as Dub lunged into her over and over. Gone was any hint of discomfort. Her vaginal walls had adapted, as she knew they would, and now provided the perfect fit for his huge rod. "I want to keep going," he gasped. Sweat was dripping off his body, falling onto hers. What she might have wrinkled her nose at only a few hours ago she now perceived as a testament of his devotion to her. "But I'm gonna get that special feeling pretty soon." "Yes!" she hissed. "Squirt in me, Dub. That's what I want. Squirt me full of Dub juice!" "Ohhhhh," he groaned. "I want to." "Get me pregnant, Dub!" "I thought you already were!" he gasped. "Then get me pregnant again," she laughed. "I'll have two instead of just one!" "Can you do that?" he said, slowing down. "No, but I wish I could," she panted. "Keep going! Don't slow down. Squirt in me!" He sped up again. "It's coming," he huffed. "I can feel it." "Oh yes," she whined. "I love this so much. I love YOU, Dub. When you got me pregnant, I didn't get to WANT you to get me pregnant. Now I want it, Dub. Give it to me baby. Squirt in me while I want you to make a baby in me." His lunges got wilder and more forceful until he was moving her across the bed with each slam. He let out a wail that sounded like he was being attacked by zombies and then stopped, deep inside her, to groan and grunt as his prick spat streams of spunk into her. "Yes!" she squealed. "You're shooting in me, Dub. We're making a baby! I love you Dub!" The explosion of strength in his body suddenly dissipated like smoke in a strong wind and Dub collapsed, crushing his lover into the mattress. He groaned and found the energy somewhere to make his body roll. He expected her to complain about being smashed, but her arm came to grip his side so that she rolled with him. Her panting breath blew again and again against his chest, which heaved with the effort of getting enough air into his starved lungs. Silently they rested, until their breathing slowed to something more near normal. "Wow," he whispered into her hair. "Better than me sucking you?" she asked, kissing his chest. "Oh yeah," he sighed. "I still want to suck you," she said. "Now?" he asked hopefully. She laughed. "In a little while," she said. "I want do to what we just did again first." "Okay," he said happily. She let her fingertips drift along his skin, exploring, but mostly just loving the fact that he was there, with her, so she could do just that. "Want to hear something silly?" she asked. "Sure," he replied. "When Bob told me I was pregnant, I couldn't believe it. I didn't FEEL pregnant. It was the wrong thing." "You don't want to be pregnant?" he asked, confused. "I didn't then. I knew I was, but I didn't want to believe it. But then I thought about things, and I realized I loved you, and we talked, and it all worked out and we're going to get married and everything changed except I still couldn't believe I was pregnant. I mean when it happened it was an accident and we didn't mean for it to happen, you know?" "Uh huh," he said. "But now ... after that ... I can almost feel our baby growing in my belly." She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. "It feels wonderful, Dub. I've never felt anything so perfect as knowing that your baby is growing in my womb." "Wow," he said softly. "That makes me want to get you pregnant again." "Just as soon as this one is born," she promised. "No, now," he said. He took her hand and moved it to his slick penis. "Saying that got me all hard again." ------- Chapter 10 "Don't cry Mamma," moaned Dub. He looked at Angela. "Why's she crying?" He looked like he might start crying himself any second. His mother reached for his hand and subsided to a sniffling kind of hiccupping cough. When she got herself under control she said "I'm not sad, Dub." Her head swiveled, taking in the splendor of the place Dub and Angela were offering her little family to live in. "I could never have dreamed of something this fancy." The squeals of the twins could be heard coming from various parts of the house as they explored together. All of them were overwhelmed, even though there was no furniture yet, and they couldn't actually move in for most of another month. The approval for the loan had gone through in record time, but then the bureaucracy of policies, inspections and paperwork put on the brakes. The biggest hurdle was that the sale couldn't be finalized until they were legally married. The bank wasn't willing to make the loan to only one of them, even if she was one of the town's two doctors. On the other hand, the marriage license was good enough to keep the process going. It was for that reason, and the fact that she had few people to share her joy with, that Angela wanted to get married right away. The only real reason they couldn't just get married in front of the Justice of the Peace was because Angela hadn't told her parents yet. An only child, Angela had grown up in that strange world of overindulgence by parents who were very busy with jobs and various projects. As such, her primary 'friends' during her childhood were stuffed animals. She had friends at school, of course, but it never seemed to work out to have play dates. She was content to read and watch movies or educational videos her parents showered on her. It was, in fact, a documentary about the history of military medics and combat surgery that sparked her dream of being a doctor and helping people. The fact was, though, that she wasn't all that close with her parents. She loved them, of course, and she knew they loved her. It was just a somewhat sterile kind of love, or perhaps an obligatory one. She'd only been home half a dozen times since she left for college. They had paid for her first four years, but that was all. It wasn't that they didn't support her desire to enter medicine. They applauded it. But they believed in paying your own way, pulling yourself up by your bootstraps, taking responsibility for your future, and a half dozen other similar platitudes. It was these parents she finally called on the phone. She felt guilty, because she was, at the first ring of her parents' phone, entering her second trimester. She got the answering machine. Over the next week she got the answering machine the next twelve times she called. Finally, she gave up. Molly had the preacher on standby. The organist only wanted ten dollars. The twins were her bridesmaids and Bob gave her away. She did buy a new dress for the event, a slinky cocktail dress in white. Dub, resplendent in a rented tux, kept complaining that he didn't know how to act until his mother snapped at him and said "Act like you're gettin' hitched, boy!" The congregation was composed of only six people. On one side sat Bob, who had invited Shawna Willoughby. Holly and Danny Cranston sat with them. On the other side was Molly who, when she saw the old black man who was the janitor of the church, invited him to sit with her. He dabbed at his eyes several times during the ceremony, and Molly loaned him her hanky. From the church they went to the bank to sign the papers on the house. Once they had the keys, they went to Bob's to get Angela's things. Bed or not, they planned on sleeping in their house that night. To be honest, both were still a little stunned by the minister's pronouncement that they were husband and wife, which may be why they weren't talking when they entered the house. Each was concentrating on his or her own thoughts of their sudden change in status. Bob didn't expect them, which may be why he left his bedroom door open. Or it could be that Shawna dragged him into said bedroom so forcefully that he just didn't have a chance to close the door. At any rate, as the newlyweds approached Bob's bedroom door, a husky female voice suddenly wafted out of the room. "Ohhhh Bob, you do that so well. I know I'm acting like a slut, but weddings just do that to me every time." "You told me," came an out of breath Bob. "Why do you think I invited you?" "You're terrible!" squealed Shawna's voice. There was a rhythmic slapping sound and her voice came again. "Ohhhh keep being terrible just like that." The young couple, moving on autopilot, came even with the door. It was only natural to look inside. What they saw was Bob, with his pants around his ankles, while above the waist he still wore his dress shirt and tie. Shawna was bent over the back of an overstuffed arm chair, her skirts up over her back. Her legs were spread, and she was still wearing her high heels. What was obviously Bob's penis was sliding in and out of the woman's sex while he held onto her naked hips for leverage. The slapping sound was the front of his abdomen, meeting her shaking buttocks forcefully. Angela covered her mouth to stifle her gasp. Dub, ever himself, said "Wow. I didn't know you could do it that way." A head full of bouncy red curls turned and saw them. Shawna shrieked, but had no place to go. Her legs flailed, but Bob had her pretty much nailed to the back of the chair. Then he looked at what her horrified face was pointed at and saw them too. He handled it much better. "I thought you'd be busy," he said laconically, still moving in his partner. "Doing this, in fact." "I just came to get my things," gasped Angela. "Don't mind us," he said, and simply turned back around to start pounding Shawna again. "Bob!" she shrieked. "They saw us, Bob!" "I know," he said. "Stop, Bob!" she moaned. "This is so embarrassing." "They're gone now, and I'm about to cum. "Don't you dare!" she yelped. "Didn't you cum yet?" he asked sweetly. "You know good and well what I'm talking about," she moaned. "You could get me pregnant." "Like Angela," he said dreamily. "That's not fair," she moaned. "You know how excited I was that she was already soiled." "I'm about to soil you, Darling," he said, his voice tight. "Noooooooo," she whined, kicking her feet in the air again. "Don't you dare, Bob Kimble." "Ohhhhhhh Shawna," he groaned. "It feels so good to do this again." "Bastard," she moaned, but she went quiet. "You owe me." "What's that?" he asked. "You said I could stay the night when Angela moved out." "That would be tonight, then." "You're going to have to propose in the morning," she said, her voice muffled by all the cloth around it. "I am?" "You're never going to take it out, like you promised you would ... are you." "I guess not," he sighed. "Well if you're going to knock me up, at least have the decency to marry me too." He stepped back and turned. His eyes got wide as he realized Angela and Dub were still standing there, mouths open, still watching. He saw Angela's eyes go to his groin. "Well looky there, Angela," said Dub, sounding awed. "His tallywhacker is even bigger than mine!" ------- It took some doing to convince Shawna to stay. Her level of embarrassment nearly gave her a coronary when, in addition to realizing that she had been watched while a man used and abused her ... while she didn't really complain all that much about it ... when she had finally been able to stand, she did so too quickly and got dizzy, falling back onto the arm of the chair, her legs akimbo, which put her recently fucked sex on display. Dub, of course, had to comment on the fact that she had no hair down there, and wondered aloud what had happened to it. Had she actually been emotionally able to get up, she would have run from the house. Bob had the sense to hold her, though, and Angela finally broke the spell and dragged Dub to her room. She announced they were leaving then, and would be gone in just a few minutes. She had already packed and was ready to go. Dub carried a suitcase under each arm and one in each hand, while Angela struggled under a double armload of hanging clothes, as they went back past the still open door. Shawna was merely sniffling at that point, and her clothing was reassembled. Bob, having spent the whole time pleading with her not to leave, hadn't been able to get dressed. "I'm so sorry," said Angela, stopping in the door. "We were just surprised, that's all." "YOU were surprised," muttered Shawna. "No harm done," said Bob. "I'm kinda glad," said Dub, who had come back and leaned so he could see in. "Now I want to try it like that." "Dub!" moaned Angela. "But we don't have a chair yet," he said, sounding disappointed. Bob laughed. "When you do, let me know, and Shawna and I will come over to watch." "We will not!" she said in a huff. Then she realized he was joking and wilted back into his arms. "Okay then," said Angela. "Bob, thanks so much. I didn't plan on just running out on you like this, but we should go." Bob just grinned and waved. ------- As Dub had pointed out, they didn't have a chair. But they did have a mattress. Deciding to be conservative, they decided to spend what it would cost for a new bedroom suite, but do so at the Goodwill store in Chambley, thirty miles away. They spent enough, and bought so much, that the store agreed to deliver it. That wouldn't happen for a few days, though. They had only bought three items brand new. One was the mattress that was on the floor of their bedroom. They'd gotten it home tied to the top of the car. The other two were the pillows Angela was currently crawling across the mattress to get. She was naked, as was her husband, who was standing, enjoying looking at her. As she reached for the nearest pillow she felt her hips being gripped by two strong hands. "I got an idea," he said. She yelped as she was lifted like she weighed nothing, and then deposited onto the bed. "Let me get the pillows, you goof," she said. "We ain't got a chair, but with you on all fours like that ... maybe..." Angela looked over her shoulder to see him holding his long, hard prick. She wasn't afraid of that prick any more. He'd had it in her enough that it rarely caused any discomfort any more, unless he was just too forceful on his initial entry. She felt him swab the tip between her dripping pussy lips. She always dripped for him when she knew she was going to get to feel him inside her. "It's called doggy style," she said, remembering a girl in school warning a group of her friends that that was a surefire way to get pregnant. "Bow Wow," he said, arching his back. His penis slid into her as she wiggled her butt at him. "Oh Dub," she sighed. "It feels good this way." He walked forward on his knees, gripped her hips again, and lunged forward. "Easy big fella," she groaned. "You're going to poke your daughter in the head if you're not careful." "Son," he said automatically. It was a friendly argument they had every time the baby was mentioned. She dropped her head and looked at her now rounded belly. She loved looking at it. She watched her breasts wobble as he started moving forward and back, like he'd seen Bob doing with Shawna. She wondered what they'd be like when they filled with milk for the baby. "It's kind of fun," he said. "Except I can't see your face." "And you don't hit me in just the right place," she said. "You mean your bump," he said. "Yes," she affirmed. "We can switch if you want," he said. "I just wanted to see what it was like." He pulled out and she moaned her displeasure with being empty. She whirled and he leaned back while she deep throated him, fucking her throat with short inch-long strokes for half a minute. Then she pulled off and manhandled him onto his back. Standing above him, she slowly squatted, holding her pussy lips apart with two fingers. She couldn't see past her belly, but he knew that already. This was one of their favorite positions, hers because she could get him deeper than any other way while controlling how much her clit got rubbed, and him because it was in this position that his seed had gotten in her to take root. He'd told her more than a few times how lucky he was that she lost control in that tent, because if she hadn't, they wouldn't be married. Each time she assured him she'd have come to her senses sooner or later, and realized she was in love with him. He aimed his cock for her until the head was in, and then put his hands behind his head and watched her slide down his pole, groaning all the way. She sat for a minute, just letting everything adjust. His eyes glittered as he looked at her breasts. She twisted her body sideways and then back, to make them sway and jiggle. "When will they shoot milk?" he asked. "Not for months," she said, beginning to move, sliding forward until his prick stopped her. "I can't wait to taste it," he said. "You'll starve your poor daughter," she said. "Son," he insisted. "And no I won't. I'll let him eat first. Leftovers is fine for me." "My breast milk is not leftovers," she said in mock irritation. "If you keep talking about milk I'm gonna shoot," he said, his voice tight. "You're so beautiful I might shoot anyway." "Thank you, Dub," she said, her voice husky. She leaned forward then, to let her clit rub against his pubic bone. She wished he could suckle while she rode him like this, but he was just too tall. He often spent half an hour on her breasts before they coupled, though, so she couldn't complain. She's usually had three or four orgasms from his lips and fingers before he ever got the monster in her. That was fine with her, as long as the monster DID get in her. "I'm gonna cum," she said softly. "Will you cum with me." "Always," he panted. "I love you, Dub," she said as the feeling rose. "I love you, "Angela," he panted. "I'm so glad you got me pregnant," she gasped, and then whined as the feeling splashed through her body. He knew she liked to have her nipples pulled while this was happening and removed his hands from behind his head to squeeze and pull at them. The secondary zings of joy that caused extended the orgasm until she was too weak to sit up straight. He caught her shoulders as she leaned, keeping her from falling onto her belly, and rolled them expertly to lie side by side. Then he humped for a few more seconds and sighed as his balls pumped her full of his love. ------- As far as anyone could tell, being heavy with child had little impact on how Angela practiced medicine. She favored her back, and sat more often when she might have stood to speak with a patient. But while people didn't notice any change in Angela, Angela noticed a distinct change in the attitudes of most of her patients. They argued less often than they had in the past, and took her word for things more quickly. They were less prickly than when she had first started caring for them. At first she thought it was because she had married one of their own, but while everyone in town called Dub "Dub" no one addressed her by her first name. Everyone called her Doctor or Doc. But everyone had always used her title before she married Dub. She spoke to Bob about it, asking him why she sensed a change in the people. "You're pregnant," he said, simply. "So?" "That proves you're human," he said. "Most women in this town have been pregnant. They know what you're going through. You could have avoided it, but you didn't. That means something to to them. "The women, maybe," said Angela. "But the men are falling all over themselves to be nice to me too." "A pregnant woman is the future of the race," said Bob. "She should be respected and honored." "Oh," she said, feeling like she hadn't done anything special. If anything she'd been foolish. Not that she was complaining. It was the best mistake she'd ever made as far as she was concerned. Holly stuck her head in Bob's office. "Angela, you have a patient." "All right. Put him in treatment room A and I'll be right there. I have to pee again. It seems like I have to pee every ten minutes." "Who said it was a him?" asked Holly, grinning. "All right," said Angela patiently. "Put HER in treatment room A. I still have to pee!" "Who said it was a her?" "Do I need to spank you?" asked Bob. Holly put the fingertips of one hand over a mouth that had taken an "O" shape. "Oooooo, I'm so scared!" she squeaked. Bob got up and she squeaked again and ran. Angela ignored them both and went into the staff bathroom. She washed her hands and hurried to treatment room A before she had to pee again. Going through the door she saw a plain-faced woman, clearly nervous, pacing. Sitting in the chair was Ezra Brown, dressed as always in his police uniform. Angela rocked to a stop. "Afternoon, Doc," said Ezra, smiling widely. "Is there a problem?" asked Angela. "I sure hope not," he said. "This is Chelsey, my wife. It took me near to six months to convince her to come see you." Angela looked at the woman, who was getting red-faced. "What's wrong?" asked the doctor. "He wants me to do ... that," said the woman weakly. "It ain't natural." "Do what?" asked Angela. She looked at Ezra, who was grinning. She looked back at Chelsea, who was blushing even harder. "Do what?" she asked again. Ezra spoke. "I believe the polite term is oh-ral sex," he said. Suddenly Angela remembered. She'd forgotten all about her hasty promise to the policeman. She felt her own face getting red. "I don't see why I have to learn to do that," complained Chelsea. "It ain't natural." "Cause I want you to, pumpkin," said Ezra gently. "Besides, you know how you complain that I want too much sex, and how tired you are sometimes and-" "Ezra!" snapped his wife. "You'll not air our dirty laundry in public!" "This ain't public, Pumkin," said Ezra, unintimidated. "This is a doctor's office, and she's even a lady doctor. She knows all about this sort of thing." The woman stopped and whirled to face her husband. "And how would you know that, Ezra Brown?" Ezra stopped smiling. Something that looked like guilt or nervousness flitted across his face, the then it went calm again. "That's official business," he said. "I cain't tell you what my sources of information are." Chelsea looked at Angela. "Don't look like to me that she knows all THAT much about it. She obviously didn't do that the one time she should have." Ezra stood up, a slight frown on his face. "You promised, Chelsea." "Only because you badgered me day and night for six months," she complained. "You promised," he said, unrelenting. She slumped. "Oh, all right then. Let's get this over with." She turned to Angela. "What do I do?" Angela was still amazed that Ezra had actually brought his wife to the doctor's office to learn how to give a blow job. Then she admitted to herself that it wasn't so much "to the doctor's office" as it was "to Angela" who just happened to be a doctor. She was further astonished that the man didn't just have his wife put her mouth on him and be done with it. Surely a man could teach his wife what he liked. She looked at Ezra, who nodded his head at his wife and then, as if he could read her mind, spoke. "I'd tell her what to do my own self, except of course I never had nothin' like that done to me before, and don't know how to go about it." The obvious question was why, if he was so innocent of experience, did he suddenly want this in his life. Again, as if he knew what she was thinking, he answered the question. "I just keep hearing how most folks who done it like it, and it helps with their marriages and such," he said. "If we don't like it, then I s'pose we don't have to do it, but we'll never know if we don't try it. What do you think, Doc?" Angela shot him a murderous look, and then turned to Chelsea. "It's not nearly as bad as most people think," she said soothingly. "If you have the right attitude, it can even be a lot of fun." "What kind of attitude?" asked Chelsea, warily. "Do you love Ezra?" "Course she does," said Ezra. Angela looked at him. "I can teach her how to do this on you, or on a banana. If I hear one more word out of you it's going to be the banana. Are we clear on that?" He opened his mouth to say yes, and she held up a finger. He nodded, and then smiled, changing it to a wounded look when his wife glanced his way. "I love the man," sighed Chelsea. "Though I don't know why, sometimes." "We all feel that way," said Angela soothingly. "Do you like kissing him?" "Oh yes," said Chelsea, becoming animated. "He's a good kisser." "Well fellatio is the same kind of thing." "Fellow what?" "It's called fellatio," said Angela. "I thought it was called a blow job, or a hummer," said the woman. "How do you-" Ezra clapped a hand over his mouth and turned away from the women. "Just because I think it ain't natural don't mean I never heard of it," said Chelsea. "I ain't stupid, Ezra." "It doesn't matter what it's called," said Angela, suppressing a smile. It can be something as intimate and as much fun as a good kiss. When done properly, he'll be very appreciateive, and you can have a really good time too." "Really?" "Honest," said Angela. She felt a blush staining her cheeks, but went on anyway. "It can be a LOT of fun, Chelsea. Take my word for it." "Oh my," said the woman, looking awed. "YOU done it before?" She had to answer one way or the other. If she admitted it, it could go either way, and it could get out into the commmunity at large. If she denied it, though, then she had no credibility. "More than once," she finally said. Chelsea's eyes got wide, and Angela felt like she had to say more. "I used to think about it the way you do now, but then ... well it doesn't matter how it happened, but it happened, and I found out it wasn't so bad. I can't believe I'm telling you this, but now I actually look forward to it sometimes." "You do?" gasped Chelsea. "You're not fibbin' are you?" "No!" said Angela. Chelsea swallowed, and her face settled into a determined look. "Well if it's good enough for you, then I'll give it my best go." Angela almost laughed out loud at his reaction when she told Ezra to drop his pants and sit on the exam table. "Say what?" He looked at her owl-eyed. "How is she going to learn without a training aid?" asked Angela. "I thought you was funnin' about that," he said, beet red. "Not at all. Now let's get on with it." "I cain't do that in front of you, Doc!" he complained. "Well," said Angela, making her voice completely serious, "I suppose we could get a surrogate." "What's that?" asked Chelsea. "It would be another man, to stand in for Ezra, since he is too embarrassed." Chelsea hadn't been wrong when she said she wasn't stupid. She was quick on her feet and also recognized a chance for a little payback. "Oh, like maybe Tommy Hankins? He's kind of cute, and he just split up with Norma Jean, so I'm sure he'd be willin'." "Now hold on just a damn minute!" said Ezra heatedly. Chelsea laughed. "What are you so het up about? You want me to suck it. All she's gonna do is see it." She turned suddenly to Angela with a worried expression. "That is right, ain't it? All you're gonna do is see it, right? You ain't gonna -" "That's your job!" said Angela, interrupting her. "I'm just here to give you tips." Chelsea looked back at her husband. "What's it gonna be, Ezra. You or Tommy? It don't make no difference to me. It's unnatural either way." "Damn!" groaned Ezra. He glared at Angela. "You better not even think about jaywalking after this," he growled. Angela's smile was frosty. "We're waiting." ------- Fully dressed again, Ezra left the room with a statisfied smile on his face, and a decidedly bubbly wife on his arm. "I was kiddin' about the jaywalkin'," he said. "No you weren't," said Angela, who suddenly wished Dub was there so she could do what Chelsea had just done. The key had been preparing Ezra's organ for the event. Angela made a ritual out of it, so that by the time Chelsea had to contemplate actually putting her mouth on it, she herself had cleaned it, and inspected it. Truth be told, the woman had never actually spent much time in close examination of her husband's penis. That had seemed unnatural to her too. In fact, sex had barely seemed natural, based on her very strict upbringing. But once she had kissed the thing in her hand, and found the texture to be smooth and soft, and with the approval of someone as important as a doctor, Chelsea Brown let out the slut inside her and took to sucking dick like a duck takes to water. Ezra's obvious and genuine delight helped, and Angela made sure there were no surprises by having the couple communicate well. There was some reluctance to the idea of leaving it in her mouth when it "went off" as she put it, but when Angela said she liked the taste, that was good enough for Chelsea. Her only comment, once that had happened, was "Humph. It's a little bitter, but not awful. Might be that a little honey would cover the taste." Angela, who had never even thought of putting something on Dub's cock when she sucked it, thought that was a wonderful idea, and thought immediately of chocolate. She tried the chocolate that very night. ------- When Molly and the girls moved in, there was less opportunity to make love, at least outside the bedroom. Even in the bedroom their lovemaking was less frequent, but not because they were ignoring each other. There were long sessions where Dub and Angela lay in bed, stroking her swollen belly and talking to the little person inside. Dub spoke as if to a little boy, who he promised to teach all sorts of things. Angela corrected him by telling their daughter she could be anything she wanted, and if she wanted to learn how to hunt and fish from her father, that was fine. Another reason was that Dub now wanted to get his GED more urgently, and Angela fast tracked him, studying with him, explaining things, and quizzing him until he knew it frontwards and backwards. Five months after they were married, he took the test and passed it without breaking a sweat. He celebrated by enrolling in an online course in the criminal justice field. "What are you doing?" asked Angela, looking over his shoulder. "Ezra has always told me I should get my GED and get a few college courses in law enforcement," he said. "He seems to think the Sheriff would hire me as a deputy." "I never knew you wanted to do anything like that," she said, amazed. "I was in no hurry," he said carelessly. "Now I don't think I'll be satisfied to unload trucks for the rest of my life." "I'd still love you if that's all you ever did," she said, putting her arms around his neck. He kissed her hand. "I know. I don't think I'd have had the guts to try this before I met you." "I don't recall installing any extra guts in you," she said. She reached down and tried to pinch his stomach. She couldn't get a grip on the skin there, though, because it was too taut. "You know what I mean," he said. "Tell me anyway," she sighed. "You just like hearing how important you are in my life," he said. "I do," she admitted. "Well before I met you I was a bumpkin. "You still are, Darling," she said, smiling. "Well before I met you I was ignorant about a lot of things," he tried. "Still are," she said flippantly. "Okay then, before I met you I was a virgin," he said. "Got me there," she said. "And then nasty old Angela stole your poor virginity and got all knocked up and then roped you into gettin' hitched." "She did," he said gravely. "And it changed my whole life." "Oh? How?" she asked, her voice syrupy. He spun around in the office chair and she had to dance backwards to keep from being hit by his knees. His strong hands used the fact she was off balance to pull her onto his lap. She had to sit clear out on his knees, though, because she was due any day now. While she pretended to fight him, he lifted up her shirt and bent over to suck strongly at a the nipple he knew would be bare under her clothes. She always went without a bra when she was home, just so he could do this kind of thing. "Beast!" she yelled. He just changed nipples and sucked the other one too. She gave a strangled yelp, in which he heard surprise and something like pain. He lifted his head to see wonder in her eyes. Her mouth was hanging open. "What's wrong?" he asked. "You okay?" "I think my milk just came in," she said, lifting her hands to cup her breasts. She squeezed her nipples and a single clear drop appeared as if by magic on the side of her right nipple. "You're kidding," he said. His head dipped down and she shuddered as he sucked again and she felt streaks of stinging pain that vanished almost instantly. She heard him swallow ... and then again. When he lifted his head again, it was his own face that showed awe. "It was like nothing at first, but now it's sweet. It tastes delicious," he whispered. "Just like I knew it would." "That means I'm getting close," she said. She let him suckle the other nipple and let her head fall back at the delightful feeling of milk flowing through her nipple and into his mouth. Her belly suddenly rippled and she felt a strange tightness in her back. His head came up sharply. "What the... ?" He looked down at his lap. "You peed on me!" "My water just broke," she said, getting her feet in position to stand. "And that means I'm REALLY close." ------- He didn't panic. He simply grabbed her pre-packed bag and helped her waddle to the car. While he drove she got on her cell phone and called Bob. While they had no reason to think there might be a problem, he had counseled her to have the baby at the hospital in Chambley, just in case. He worked routinely with an obstetrician there to take care of the mothers in town. His relaxed "Tell Dub to drive like there are eggs on the seat, and I'll meet you there. And remember to breathe!" made her feel calmer. A sudden contraction made it difficult to think academically about things and the pain astonished her. She cried out and Dub reached over to squeeze her knee. He started the short, repetitive "Hoo" breathing she realized he was trying to do WITH her and she joined him as the spasms eased. She was ready for the next one, and breathed her way through it with vigor. She couldn't decide if the breathing made it easier, or she was just distracted by concentrating so hard on how to breathe. Forty-five minutes and four contractions later, She let Dub pull her from the car and walked, feeling bowlegged, into the ER. Ten minutes after that she was in a gown on a bed with a strange man's fingers where only Dub's had been before this. She'd met him on two previous visits, of course, but still considered him to be a stranger. The fact that Dub was standing beside her bed, holding her hand, while another man probed her vagina, seemed surreal. "How long have you been in labor?" he asked. "About an hour," she said. "You're a quick one," said the OB. "You're already eight centimeters dilated. How fast are the contractions coming?" "Every eight to ten minutes," she said, getting ready to pant as she felt one coming. "Were you able to get the enema in?" "No," she said, and started hoo hooing. The doctor laid his palms on her writhing belly and, despite the discomfort of what her body was feeling, his touch felt incredibly intimate. "Well, it's too late for that now. That was a good strong contraction," he said approvingly. "I'll be back in half an hour. If the contractions get any quicker than five minutes before then have them call me. And if you suddenly have the urge to have a bowel movement, hold off on that. We'll deal with it when it's time to push. And don't worry. It happens all the time. We're used to it." Five hours later Angela gave a final push and Dub watched in awe as a bluish looking wet baby seemed to squirt into Bob's hands. The OB was standing by, smiling. A nurse leaned in with a warmed towel for Bob to deposit the baby in, while another handed him implements with which to cut the cord. The baby squalled, unhappy that its warm, secure world was suddenly taken away from it. A quick wipedown and some eye drops later, the nurse laid the baby on Angela's now much flattened stomach. "I'd like to introduce you to your daughter," she said, grinning from ear to ear. "Daughter?" Dub's voice sounded faint, but he stood solid. "I told you so," said Angela tiredly, her fingers already taking inventory. The baby cried some more. "I need another push," said Bob. "Let's get the placenta out of there and I can sew you up." "Oh goody," groaned Angela. ------- Less pale, and more alert now, Angela relaxed against the raised head of the bed and cradled Melinda Elaine Fisher to the breast she was lustily sucking from. She was surprised that it felt completely different than when Dub nursed. Some parts of it were identical, but it was still completely different. Dub was sitting in a chair nearby leafing through a magazine. Molly and the girls had been to visit, and were gone again, so Angela let both of her breasts be on display. She knew that Dub was sneaking peeks at the one Melinda wasn't currently using. She looked at the tiny, perfectly formed fingers pressing into her breast, and listened to the surprisingly noisy new customer for her milk. She wondered what it would feel like if Melinda was sucking from one while her father sucked from the other. A wave of joy washed through her that was so strong it made her think of an orgasm. Tears filled her eyes and her breath caught in her throat. Dub heard and looked up. "What's wrong?" he asked, leaning forward. "Nothing," she sobbed, but then she got control. "Everything is so perfect. I can't believe it." "So you're not mad at me any more?" he suggested hopefully. She stared at him. "I was never mad at you. Why would you say that?" "Well you had a girl," he said, putting a heavy pout on his face. She laughed. "You're ridiculous. Besides, girls are better. Just ask your sisters." He leaned back. "Yeah, right. I'm already worried about how I'm gonna protect her from guys like me." Angela laughed again. "In six weeks we'll start working on a brother for her. He'll keep an eye on her for you, and help take care of her just like you took care of your sisters." "You think so?" he asked. "I guess that would be all right." He frowned. "Except for one thing." "What's that?" asked Angela. He stood up, adjusting what was obviously an erection in his pants. "They're going to take separate baths." The End ------- The End ------- Posted: 2010-03-29 Last Modified: 2010-04-15 / 07:10:08 am ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------