Age of Puberty (Girl's POV)

[taiwanstuff]

Very nice, more update please!

[Protext]

Hoping to read more

[JEMMA]

It took me almost a week to get up the courage to go back and see them. That was a long time, relatively speaking, at least based on my past behavior. But it wasn't unheard of for me to get busy and "neglect" them for a while. Hannah left me alone, probably to let me work things out in my mind. She knew me well enough to know how my mind worked. And there really was no big rush. Heidi still had plenty of time to turn in a portfolio. She was only a junior, for pity's sake.

Neither of them acted any different, in fact, when I tapped on the door and then walked in, as I usually did.

"It's just me," I called out.

"Doing laundry," I heard Hannah's faint voice come back.

I was almost bowled over as Heidi fairly tackled me. That wasn't unusual, either.

"Come with me!" she said, excitedly. "I just have to show you what I did!"

She pulled me upstairs to her "studio", which is what she'd started calling the guest bedroom. There were two easels set up. One of them had a partially finished oil painting of a landscape on it. The other was covered by a drape. I was used to the clutter of art stuff in the room. All I did was sleep there, occasionally, and didn't spend a lot of time in that room.

"Stand over there," she said, pointing to a spot about seven or eight feet from the draped easel. I did and, with a "Ta da!" she dragged the sheet off of the portrait she'd drawn of her mother.



Heidi might have all the time in the world to finish her figure studies, but that didn't mean she wasn't eager to get them done. That was obvious, because this one was almost finished.

That it was Hannah was not in doubt. It looked almost like a black and white photograph, so detailed was it, except it was too soft to have been taken by a camera, at least without a special effect filter. I stepped closer but there were two of me when that happened. One of them was the art critic, examining what turned out to be a combination of chalk and pencil that had been masterfully applied to thick, pebbled paper to create shadows in patterns that produced the illusion of Hannah's form. Up close you could see the strokes and places where chalk or graphite had been lifted slowly from the paper such that it got lighter and lighter until, at one point, one bump on the pebbled surface of the paper was stained and at the next bump wasn't.

I stepped back again, which was required by the "other" me. That wasn't the art critic at all. That was the horndog male who wanted to gaze lustfully on the stunning rendering of a gorgeous woman who didn't have a single stitch of clothing on her voluptuous body.



As I said, the woman on the paper was obviously Hannah. Her facial features were unmistakable, and yet there were subtle differences that made her look like, perhaps, Hannah's sister. I later found out Hannah had insisted on that. This drawing was only supposed to be used for Harper's portfolio, but it if ever found its way into the public eye, she didn't want people recognizing the model. And to her, the finished product didn't look like "her". I think this is the same phenomenon that happens when one hears one's recorded voice. It doesn't sound like "you" when you hear it, not to you. It actually sounds exactly like you to everybody else, but not to you. So what looked exactly like Hannah Hooker to me looked like someone different to her.

I mention their last name here, because the piece was signed in the lower right hand corner. A stylized "Hooker" was done calligraphy style. I'd seen that on other finished pieces and I knew she only signed the things she was proud of.

The irony was that, in this context, it looked (to me) more like the title of the piece, instead of the artist's signature.

That's because the pose Hannah had put her mother in was reclining, with a bolster under her armpit. Her head was supported by her hand, which was in turn supported by her elbow on the bed. Her upper knee was bent just enough to bring that heel to the calf of her lower leg, which created a bit of shadow just below what were obvious wisps of pubic hair. That she'd been lying on the bed in the room was obvious, because Heidi had included two pictures hanging on the wall above the bed in the drawing. Hannah's breasts had been rendered full and heavy, with large erect nipples on them. The look on the model's face was straight out of the Playboy playbook, communicating that this woman had no problem offering herself to the observer.

In other words, she looked like a high-priced call girl who was reclining, resting, as she watched her man get dressed to leave her. Her face communicated unhappiness that he was leaving, but a relaxed joy at what he had just given her.

To put it crassly, she looked very well-fucked.

I realized I was standing there with my mouth hanging open, quite possibly drooling, again. My penis announced it was in dire need of sexual attention, having attained a state of erection that was almost painful.

"Well?" Heidi's voice held hope. Before I could answer Hannah chose that time to come into the room.

"Heidi! You weren't supposed to show him that!" She stopped as if frozen by Professor Ice's freeze ray. All that came out of her immobile body then was a soft, "Shit."

"Don't be that way, Mom," said Heidi. "You know people are going to see this."

"Yes, but not Sam," said Hannah, unfreezing.

"It's not a photograph, Mother," said Heidi, pragmatically.

"It's close," I sighed. I blinked. I hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"Great," muttered Hannah. "I told you not to show it to him, Heidi!"

"I just thought if he saw how beautifully yours came out, he might decide to pose for me himself," complained Heidi.

My mind went into overdrive. My eyes were still staring at Hannah's portrait, but in my brain her form was replaced by my body, in the same pose as hers had been. The fact that she had actually been on the bed I slept in when I stayed over, and that she'd obviously been lying there naked - I didn't believe for a second that what Heidi had drawn had been from her imagination - didn't help any. And, since Heidi's figure studies obviously meant nothing could be covered, that meant my rampant boner was on clear display.

Do not mistake me, I didn't see myself in that imaginary portrait as "waiting for my lover" or anything so tasteful(?) as that. It just looked like a horny old goat to me, slavering while waiting for some poor woman to stumble into his bed to be ravished.

I was saved, quite possibly in a literal sense, by Hannah covering her portrait back up with the sheet that had been over it, originally.

"Mom, you are so pitiful," said Heidi.

"Oh yeah? How about you show him you, looking like that," snapped her mother. She blinked and frowned. "No. That didn't come out right."

"I wouldn't mind," said Heidi, breezily. "Not if I were as beautiful as you."

Even I recognized that as a blatant attempt to ingratiate herself with her mother, who proved she was just as perceptive when she groaned, "Oh pu-leeez." It actually helped me get some control over myself.

The first thing I did was cover my boner with both hands. That seemed a little obvious, though, so I turned away from both women and went to examine the half-finished landscape on the other easel. I made sure I was facing away from both women.



"You do good work, Heidi," I said, as casually as I could.

"Thank you," she said, primly. "So, will you pose for me?"

"Heidi!" snapped her mother. "We talked about this!"

"I don't see why he'd object," argued Heidi, as if I wasn't standing four feet away from her. "It's not like we're strangers. And you know I can't afford to hire somebody, who, I might point out, would be a stranger. Do you want me looking at a strange, naked man?"

"Heidi," said her mother, also as if I weren't there. "I've lived with you all your life and even I felt embarrassed to be that way in front of you. I won't let you put Sam through something like that."

"Well!" I said, explosively. "I guess I'd better get going."

"What?" complained Heidi. "Why? You just got here."

I glanced down and realized there was no way I could get out of there with my pride intact unless I sidled out of the room facing away from them. That would look decidedly odd. I reached to do an adjustment, pushing my cock upright. The tip dug uncomfortably into where my belt held my pants up, but it looked better.

"Oh, you know," I said, lamely. "Places to go. People to meet, things to do."

"I thought you were staying for supper," said Heidi. "Isn't that why you came over?"

"Heidi, Honey, could I have a private moment with Sam?" Hannah's voice was calm.

"What? Why?"

"Please?" said her mother sternly.

"Adults are so ... frustrating!" snapped Heidi, but she stalked to the door and stomped down the stairs toward the living room.

[JEMMA]

It was quiet in the room. I was still facing away from her, though I'd forgotten to make it look like I was "engaged" in examining any other art in the room.

"I'm sorry, Sam," said Hannah, softly.

I was still too rattled to examine her apology. I didn't even know what it was for.

"She wasn't supposed to show it to you," Hannah continued.

I forced myself to say something.

"It's okay."

"I probably shouldn't say this, but in a way I'm glad she did," said Hannah.

That got my attention. I turned around before I could stop myself.

"Why?"

She wasn't looking at me. She was blushing, but her eyes were darting around.

"I shouldn't have said anything. Forget it."

"Forget what?" I was confused.

Finally she brought her eyes to me. To my horror they dropped and fixed on the lump in my pants. I was busted, plain and simple. I couldn't help it. Both hands came to cover my shame again.

"I'm sorry," said Hannah again. Her cheeks flamed even brighter.

This didn't make sense. If anything I was the one who should be sorry. I'd been unable to view her portrait without having inappropriate thoughts. Unwelcome thoughts. I was supposed to be Hannah's friend, not some guy who wanted to mount her silky body and bang the living shit out of her. I had betrayed her trust.



Maybe that was what she was sorry for ... the loss of trust between us.

"I couldn't help it," I rasped. "It just happened. I mean the drawing was so ... lifelike."

She looked surprised.

"I'm not angry, Sam," she said. "I just didn't expect you to respond that way."

"I know. I'm supposed to be your friend," I groaned.

"You are my friend," she said.

"You know what I mean. I shouldn't have ... reacted."

She tilted her head, examining me.

"Sam, for some time, now, I thought you might be in the closet," she said.

I froze for a few seconds, trying to make any kind of sense of that.

"What?" I gasped.

"I'm sorry!" she moaned. "It's just that you almost never ask a woman out. You haven't formed any long-term relationships with women since Desmond died. I guess I thought you'd been trying to look normal when he was still here, and when we lost him you stopped doing that. I shouldn't have made assumptions. I just thought ..."

"I am not gay!" I yipped.

"I can see that now," she said. "I'm sorry for staring. I was just relieved that you reacted ... um ... normally?"

"You stared?" I looked down to see both hands securely covering my groin. I jerked them away reflexively, only to reveal there was still a bulge there. My hands went back but I pulled them up again. I didn't know what to do. I turned sideways and suddenly felt foolish.

"Sorry," she said, shrugging. "I'm a woman. What can I say?"

"I think that's supposed to be my line," I said. I blinked. "I mean I'm a man. Not that I'm trying to excuse my ... uh ... behavior."

"You don't need to excuse your behavior," she said, softly. "I know what that drawing looks like. I don't understand why, but my daughter obviously wanted to make me look like a trollop. I know what most men would think if they saw it."

"Funny story," I said, as relief rushed over me and made me almost giddy. "She signed it."

"What?" Hannah looked confused.

"She signed the portrait," I said.

"Okay." She still didn't get it.

I went to the easel and pulled the sheet off of it. It was instinctive because one needed to see the whole thing before I pointed to the name in the lower right hand corner.

"Hooker," I said.

Her cheeks had lost their glow, but it came right back.

"Oh my," she sighed. "I didn't think of that at all."

"Neither did she," I said. "But that's good. She's still innocent enough not to draw the inference."

Hannah put her hand up and rested it on the edge of the frame on the easel.

"This does not suggest innocence on the part of the artist," said the model, calmly.

"She's a teenager," I said. "Her bloodstream is chock full of hormones. I think she drew you as she wanted to see you."

"I don't want you to think I'm uncomfortable talking about this," said Hannah, taking the sheet from me and re-covering her portrait, "but a lot has happened and I'm not quite ready to confront the fact that my daughter sees me as a woman who wants ... needs ... to get laid. I mean that's what I see when I look at that. Is that what you saw, too?"



That relief I mentioned, when I realized she wasn't angry with me (and no longer assumed I was gay), combined with the relative ease of our conversation in the last few minutes, gave me the confidence to answer her question honestly.

"Actually, it looked more to me like you'd just been laid ... and happily so."



"I should be so lucky," said Hannah, adopting a snarky smile. She held up a hand to keep me from commenting. "Enough of this. Let's go get supper on the table. We can talk about this later." She frowned. "If we need to, I mean. This has all been a bit ... much ... for me, and I suspect you feel that way, too."

"What you said," I quipped.

"I'll try to keep Heidi off your back," said Hannah.

I almost groaned as unwanted images flitted through my mind of me on my back, with one of the Hooker women on top of me, followed by both of the Hooker women on their backs, with me ... well ... you know.



Yes, the djinn was definitely out of the bottle.

And he was swirling all around the Hooker house, making changes in the world.

Just to recap, and set the scene for things to come, here's the assessment of the changes that had taken place in my relationship with my best friend's widow and daughter.

The way things had been was me, hanging around, being helpful after cruel fate took Desmond away from his family. There had already been a friendship, and it simply deepened. My relationship with Hannah had been platonic. To Heidi I was a buddy, confidante , and source of information from a trustworthy male. That had been the status quo for the last five or so years.

Then, suddenly, within a week, I had become a man who lusted after Hannah, who didn't seem to mind that I lusted after her. Not that there was any invitation there for anything more than the deeply satisfying platonic relationship we had been enjoying, but it was suddenly okay that I got an erection for her. Or her portrait, as it were. Not only that, but my innocent angel of a "niece" had the capacity to draw her mother in full triple X mode and wanted to do the same with me! Not that I thought she'd assume I'd have a boner while she was drawing me. I hadn't crossed that line, yet. But I got the feeling that, were I to accede to her request, and become her model, and should an erection ensue, her reaction wouldn't be as innocent as I'd always perceived her to be.



Basically, both women had suddenly become sexual beings in my mind, and it was obvious I was perverted enough to enjoy that fact.

It was a rather big change to what I had become both used to and comfortable with.

Of course I knew Heidi was growing up ... would grow up ... would become a fully sexual being. I just didn't dwell on that, or picture it in my mind. In fact I think I avoided thinking about that. The idea of some boy on top of her made my fists clench, so I blocked that kind of thing out.



Now, however, I couldn't block it out anymore. The way in which she'd rendered her mother's face made it crystal clear that she was fully cognizant of female sexuality. Only the fact she wasn't allowed to date yet gave me any confidence that she wasn't ... experienced ... in the ways of love already.

That leads us back to Hannah, who didn't need to be innocent. I'd often thought, over the years, that she was wasting herself. She had a lot to offer a man. But I also understood the concept of not being interested in seeking a new mate. It wasn't exactly the same for me, but I felt like it was close. I had yet to meet a woman who made me feel that if I didn't snare her I'd be sorry for the rest of my life. I had even tried a couple of internet dating sites, but the results had been ridiculously unsatisfying. Hannah didn't know about that. I'd been too embarrassed to mention it. It wasn't that I'd given up looking, but the whole process seemed like it was doomed to failure from the beginning and it was a lot of work to try when I just didn't expect anything to happen. In a way, it's how I feel about fishing. I don't mind going out and enjoying the day, being in nature, but I don't actually expect to catch any fish. I'm just not good at that like other fishermen are.



The thing I kept thinking about was how relieved Hannah was that I wasn't gay. What did that mean? I knew how she felt about finding a "replacement" for Desmond, but what did that have to do with my dating life? Why did she care whether I was gay or not? The only reason I could think of was that she was interested in me, but that was ludicrous. We'd seen each other regularly for years and she hadn't shown a single indication of interest in me as anything other than a friend. In fact, to find out she wasn't disappointed or offended when I horned out looking at her portrait pretty much astonished me.



Things were a little confused and I didn't want to read things in error. So basically I just closed the book and did something other than reading for a while.

Heidi, of course, wasn't going to give up on trying to get me to pose for her. She needed a male model, for one thing , and I had to admit I was the logical choice. It was the naked-with-an-erection thing that was bothering me. I knew that if I did this, I'd get an erection.



So, to keep the peace between mother and daughter, I decided to negotiate. I did so at supper that night. I probably shouldn't have, because my mind was still whirling. But I did. It went like this:

"So, is there any law that says this male model you need for your other figure study has to be completely nude?"

"Not law," said Heidi. "If the body is covered by clothes, though, it's not really a figure study. The point of a figure study is to exhibit anatomy and display how well the artist renders that."

"What if the model was wearing shorts?" I asked.

"You mean you'll do it if you can wear shorts?"

"Heidi!" warned Hannah.

I was trying to keep the peace so I raised a hand to stop Hannah.

"I guess we could try that," I said.

Harper was happy.

She was so happy, in fact, that it should have made me wonder about that. I mean what was the big deal? I was going to sit there wearing shorts and she was going to draw me or paint me or whatever. It was just a step towards getting her portfolio in order, right?

So why was she practically overjoyed about my offer?

Except I didn't think about that then.

Which is how I ended up on a slippery slope that would change things even more.



Sort of like how Mt. Vesuvius changed the landscape 'a little' back in A.D. 79.

[KuaychupDolly]

Very nice story TS!

[JEMMA]

Chapter Three

During the rest of the meal Hannah forbade discussion about me posing. She also insisted that I be allowed to sleep on it. The next day was Saturday, and I was invited to come to breakfast for further negotiations, should I still be willing to pose.

That night was interesting. Heidi's drawing of her mother was fixed in my mind, easy to remember, and hard to forget. For some reason the pubic hair, created by the masterful use of a pencil sharpened to a needle point, hung around in my mind. It showed astonishing attention to detail, for one thing. It would have been just as easy to roughly shade that area which, from afar, would have also looked like pubic hair. But the way in which she'd done it drew the viewer in, calling the observer to get up close and personal. As I got into bed and relaxed, my penis decided not to join the throng of other muscles that were going limp in anticipation of slumber. Instead, it rose up to salute Heidi's talent in producing a portrait any man would dearly love to own.



Long story short, I masturbated while I thought about that drawing. Of course when you do that, if you actually know the model, then you think about her, too. That had happened half a dozen times over the years (with women other than Hannah) but it had been a whole different situation. It's one thing to have a little fantasy about a woman who has no idea you're having that fantasy. Two or three minutes and you get relief and then it's over and she never knows anything about it. But now Hannah knew I'd gotten stiff, looking at her portrait. It seemed a lot more ... personal ... this time. And of course my little head loved to dream up situations in which instead of my hand, it might get to slide into something a lot closer to a real, live pussy. Like an actual, real, live pussy. And even though the portrait hadn't shown anything other than a little pubic hair above a tantalizing shadow, my little head knew which real, live pussy it wanted to plunder.



In other words, I felt a little bad that I thought about fucking Hannah while I fucked my hand instead. I was pretty sure it was going to be difficult to look her in the face the next morning. On the other hand, when I finally gave up and let my little head play out his fantasy in my big one, I came hard and it felt really good.

The next morning I went over there and tried my best not to look at Hannah. Unfortunately, that meant I had to look at Heidi, who had chosen to wear a halter top and shorts that morning.

Now you have to understand, here. Heidi was a younger version of her mother in many ways. Both had the same bone structure in the face, and the same color of hair. Both had the same interesting mixture of brown and black in their eye color. Their bodies were a little different. Hannah, who was past thirty, had the full, round, soft body of a mature woman. Not that she had any excess weight on her, but she was just obviously in her prime. At sixteen Heidi had a cute little teeny bopper body that was taking on the look of advancing womanhood. Her breasts were smaller, but just as proud. While Hannah's breasts hung more heavily, Heidi's rode higher on her chest and moved very little when she walked. Both went braless a lot, at least when they were around the house. I knew this because on more than one occasion I'd noticed that unfettered look that breasts have under a T shirt. Nipples poking through the fabric also helped me arrive at that conclusion, but I tried not to stare. I have to say, here, that I suspected their nipples were similar, though.



So what I'm getting at is that looking at Heidi that morning didn't do much to keep my mind off her mother. I realized Heidi had been talking to me when she said, "Do you have a Speedo?"

"Uh … no," I said, already off balance.

"Do you wear boxers or briefs?" was her next question.

"Heidi!" came her mother's warning voice.

"I need to know, Mother," said the girl, without looking at her chastising parent. She looked at me instead.

"Briefs," I said, quietly.

"Then I want you to wear briefs when we do this. Your smallest pair, okay?"

"Okay," I said, faintly. "I was thinking running shorts."

"Briefs," she said, firmly. "I want to stay away from something loose. I'm going to render you nude, just using my imagination for the covered parts, and if you're wearing something tight I won't have to imagine quite as much."

Great. My not even seventeen-year-old 'niece' knew all about bulges and what caused them and could imagine what was making the bulge. But she wanted to see the bulge, just for inspiration.

"Heidi," said Hannah, who was listening to the negotiations.

"He already agreed to do it, mother," said the artist, apparently expecting parental interference.

I had? When had I done that? I mean I knew I was going to, but I didn't remember actually saying I would.

"I'm aware of that," said Hannah, confirming that while I had been staring at Heidi's cleavage I'd spoken without remembering it. "You need to be sensitive to his concerns."



"I already told him he doesn't have to be naked," said Heidi.

"If you put him in briefs, he might be embarrassed," said Hannah.

"Why? It's no worse than a Speedo. In fact, briefs cover more than some Speedos I've seen."

"And just when have you seen a man in briefs?"

"In magazines and in commercials on TV," said Heidi, easily.

"Oh." Hannah frowned. "In any case, there may come a time when Sam is uncomfortable and wants to take a break."

"You mean if he gets an erection?" Heidi's voice was as calm as ever.

Both of us adults were speechless.

"Come on, Mom," said Heidi. "I know guys get boners. It happens all the time at school. And at the swimming pool."

"I wasn't aware you were so ... well acquainted with ... such problems," said Hannah, weakly.

"I'm not a baby," said Heidi, petulantly.

"It's just that you've never ... um ... talked with me about this," said Hannah.

"Come on. What teenager talks to her mother about boners?"

"You are, now," Hannah pointed out.

"Only because it came up in conversation. I mean you think Sam's worried about it and you're obviously worried about it. But I'm not worried about it. I just want to get this done so I know my portfolio is ready to go."

"Let me get this straight," said Hannah. "If Sam gets an erection during this process that won't ... uh ... be a big deal to you?"

I saw a small smile form on Heidi's lips.

"I guess that depends on how big it is."

My jaw dropped and I saw Hannah tense up.

"Hey, I'm just kidding," said Heidi, laughing. “ Come on. It was just a joke."

"It's not a joking matter," said Hannah, tensely. "That is not a subject for polite discussion, joking or not."

"Well, guys talk about how big a girl's boobs are," said Heidi, defensively.

"And that's not appropriate, either," said Hannah.

"Okay," said Heidi. "No more joking. I'm trying to be grown up about this, Mom. And I really wouldn't feel comfortable using another model, a stranger. I just feel like Sam is family."

Hannah turned to look at me.

"How do you feel about this, now?" she asked. "Are you still willing to do this?"

I swallowed. I had a feeling this was going to end up happening one way or another. Heidi wasn't going to give up. And if I was going to do this I wanted everybody to understand things from the very beginning.

"As long as you understand there may be some embarrassing moments," I said.

"Don't worry. I'll hardly look at you. You won't get embarrassed," said the girl.

"I was thinking about your embarrassment," I said. "You claim to understand about men and how they can become ... um ... affected. That doesn't happen in a vacuum. Guys get that way for a reason. If that happens while we're together, can you deal with that?"

Heidi was a smart girl and saw through my vague speech instantly.

"You mean you might get a boner because of me?" Heidi's voice rose an octave.

"Heidi!" groaned her mother.

"What? Isn't that what he said?"

"Let's stop bandying around words like boner, please?" said Hannah with obvious frustration.

"Okay," said Heidi, and I saw something I had become quite familiar with over the years. It was Heidi's stubborn streak, about to come out. She looked at me and said, firmly, "Are you suggesting that your penis may become erect while we're doing this, and that I may be the impetus for that?"

I shrugged. "You're a very pretty girl," I said. "I've told you that lots of times."

She smiled widely.

"Yes you have. Thank you. If that happens, since it's just you, I'll simply think of it as a compliment. Now. When do you think we can start? Today?"



Things were moving pretty quickly, but the sooner we did it the sooner it would be over.

"What the heck," I sighed.

[JEMMA]

I'd taken a shower the night before, but I wanted to do that again before stripping down in front of Heidi. I also wanted to change out of the tiger-striped briefs I was wearing at breakfast. I got them at a white elephant Christmas Party one year ago and since they fit me, I kept them. I wasn't willing for Heidi to see me in them, though. Even if they were my smallest pair.

I got back to their house around one and, probably because I was nervous, rang the bell for once. I heard teenaged feet galloping down the stairs inside the house with a shout of, "I got it."

Heidi opened the door dressed in a white men's button up shirt, splattered and stained with paint in a myriad of colors. Even so, it looked great on her, except that there appeared to be no shorts on underneath it.

"Uncle Sam!" she said. "Why'd you ring the bell?"

"I dunno," I answered as my eyes raked up and down her body.

Noting my inspection, she said, "This used to be my dad's. I use it as a smock, now. I'm about ready for you. Come on up."

She turned from the door and bellowed, "Mom! Sam's here," and galloped back up the stairs toward the guest bedroom/studio.

Hannah walked from the back of the house, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

"Hi. Had any second thoughts about this since we last met?"

"A few dozen," I said, smiling wanly. "Are you sure you don't mind me posing in my undies for your daughter?"

"Why would I mind? I trust you."

"Even though you know I'm not gay anymore?"

She smiled and slapped me on one shoulder.

"She has to learn about men somewhere. Better from you than some furtive boy full of hormones."

"I'll try to behave myself," I said.

"I have no doubt you'll be the ultimate gentleman." She frowned. "If anything does happen, I don't want you to be upset by it."

"Happen?" My eyes widened. My little head, after seeing what was easily imagined as a naked girl wearing only an oversize man's shirt, wanted all sorts of things to happen.

"You know ... like what happened after you looked at my picture the other day."

"Oh that," I said. "I'm still a little embarrassed about that."

"Don't be. Like my daughter said, from you, it's a compliment."

"You're very kind," I said.

"What I am is very ..." She stopped, suddenly. "Never mind. Go have fun. I'll check in on you later to make sure she's behaving herself."

I found Heidi fiddling with paints. Apparently I was to be rendered in living color. Not only that, but apparently she didn't want to get her 'smock' stained, because she'd taken it off. I saw that, under it, she'd been wearing a tiny bikini. I was apparently staring, because she said, "I like working in this. It doesn't bind. You've seen this suit before anyway." Having dealt with that issue, she went on. "I don't have a dressing room," she said. "If you want to you can change in the bathroom."

I imagined tiptoeing through the hallway in my tighty-whities and running into Hannah. I was already half stiff from looking at Heidi in her too-small, neon-pink bikini. I didn't take the time to reflect on how Heidi had to know how that bikini affected members of the opposite sex. If I had, I'd have formed a suspicion that she wore it on purpose. If I'd thought about the fact she'd taken her "smock" off before starting, it would definitely have formed suspicions. But I wasn't thinking very well at that moment.

"I'll just get undressed here," I said.

"Fine by me," she said, as if she didn't have a care in the world.

I'd come up with a plan to "handle" the anticipated problem of erections. I'd worn an old jock strap under my briefs. The problem was, now that I was in fact trying to "handle" an anticipated problem, that the operative term in describing my security feature was "old". The elastic wasn't very ... elastic ... any longer, having deteriorated somewhat. In other words, the jock wasn't doing its job. I faced away from Heidi and skinned out of my shirt and pants, kicking off my shoes. I bent over to remove my socks and then, surreptitiously, reached inside shorts and jock to tuck things deeper between my legs. Ironically, I had to actually, literally 'handle' the problem.

I finally turned around and presented myself for whatever came.

Heidi appraised me with a critical eye.

"Have you lost weight?" she asked.

"A little," I said.

"I remember you having more body mass."

"From when?" I asked.

"From the last time I saw you at the pool," she said. "You look better. More buff."

"Thank you," I said, happy that my attempt to cut down on calories and bump up the burning of them had apparently worked.

"I think this will work out very well," she said. "Lie down on the bed."

"I thought I'd be sitting on a chair," I said.

"I can't display your boy parts if you're sitting down. And if I make you stand, you'll get tired and move around. So lie down on the bed, please."

She put me in much the same position her mother had been, using the same bolster. But she wanted my top leg bent with the heel on the bed. It opened up my crotch completely. What she'd done with her mother had been alluring, mysterious in a way, hiding the good stuff in shadows. With me, it seemed she wanted to make it look like I was bragging. She even had me lay my wrist on my waist, with my hand hanging down, almost as if I were drawing attention to my manhood, saying, "See there? What do you think of that? Pretty impressive, don't you think?" I wondered if she'd paint a smirk on my face.

She stood studying me for a few minutes and then picked up a pencil and started sketching.

"I thought you were going to use paints," I said.

"I need to get the shape roughed out, first," she said. "Don't distract me. I want this to be as good as Mom's."

Actually, the not talking part worked out pretty well. I didn't have to think up things to talk about and she was behind the easel most of the time, so ogling her wasn't possible. I began to relax and not worry so much about my errant little friend in my not-very-tight jock strap.

We had been working about an hour when Hannah stuck her head in the door.

"How's it going , guys?" she asked.

"So far so good," Heidi replied, never looking up. She had begun to fill in her original drawing with paints, and was brushing them on the canvas with intense concentration.

"Not too bad actually," I said.

"I brought up some lemonade and cookies if you guys are ready for a break."

"Sounds great," I countered.

"Yeah, I could use a break, too. My shoulders are tense," Heidi replied.

I sat up and swiveled around, resting my feet on the floor. I took a glass of lemonade gratefully and drank deeply. I had not realized how stiff I was getting.

"What's the matter , dear?" Hannah asked her daughter, somehow knowing something was the matter.

"Nothing really, I'm just not getting it right."

"How so?" Hannah moved to look at what Heidi had done thus far. "Hmmm. Saving that for last?"



I had no idea what she was talking about until Heidi sighed and spoke.

"Okay, okay, so maybe I don't have as good an imagination as I thought I did."

"For which your mother is most happy," said Hannah.

"But Mom, how can I draw a penis when I've never seen one before?"

"Another thing your mother is delighted about. But don't tell me you and your friends haven't peeked at things on the internet. I'm told everybody does, and long before they get to your jaded age."

"Well sure, but it's not like you get to stare at it, or study one. Besides, the ones you see there aren't normal. Soft, I mean. What am I supposed to do? I don't want that part of it to look like something a five-year-old drew."

"I don't even want to think about five-year-olds drawing things like that. But I understand the problem. Maybe Sam would help you out if you asked him politely."

I perked up at that and stood up.

"You can't look at this yet!" said Heidi, sternly. "It's bad luck."

"True," said Hannah, staring at what I wasn't allowed to look at. "She didn't let me see mine until it was finished."

"Help her out with what?" I asked, as if I hadn't heard the whole conversation.

"Don't be coy, Sam," said Hannah.

"What happened to 'Sam might get uncomfortable and need to take a break'?" I said, affecting a falsetto voice.

"Have you needed to take a break, yet?" she asked, staring at me.

"Well, no, but I wasn't naked," I said. "It might not even be legal for me to be naked!"

"We're not going to call the police, Sam," said Hannah. "From what I can see, this is going to be beautiful, but right now there's this big white spot in the middle of things and if it stays that way it's going to ruin it. Just think about this critically. She needs a model and she needs all the model because she's been a good girl and hasn't gone out and looked at ... inappropriate ... things."

"So I'm supposed to show her my inappropriate thing?"

"I wouldn't characterize yours as inappropriate," said Hannah. "You're a gentleman."

"I won't be if I strip naked and pose for a sixteen-year-old babe," I groaned.

"I'm not a baby!" yelled Heidi.

"He didn't say baby," said Hannah, patting her daughter's shoulder.

"What? Oh." Heidi grinned. "Thank you!"

"You can't be serious about this," I said, looking with pleading eyes at Hannah.

"Would you feel better if I stayed here?" she asked.

"Not in a million years," I gasped, without thinking first.

"I see," she said.

I hoped she did not see, because if she really could see what was going through my mind, she'd throw me out and never let me come back.

"Of course we can't force you to do this," said Hannah.

"But what am I going to do?" wailed Heidi.

"I know a man at the bank," said Hannah. "He's asked me out once but I told him I wasn't ready to start dating again. He's the type of man I think would be ... eager ... to let you study his ... penis."

"That's not fair," I groaned.

"What's not fair?" asked Hannah, her voice full of false innocence.

"Sure, make it my fault that Chiong King the Molester gets a chance to flash Heidi," I growled.

"Sam, we're just trying to be sensitive to your concerns," said Hannah.

"Can I speak with you privately for a minute?" I asked, my voice tight.

"Yes," said both women at the same time. It was as if they'd practiced it.

"You stay here!" I barked, stabbing my finger at Heidi. I reached for Hannah's elbow and, none too gently, gripped it, pulling her into the hallway and closing the door.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, fiercely.

"Do you think Heidi has promise as an artist?" asked Hannah.

"Of course she does," I snarled.

"You can't look at the painting," said Hannah. "But if you could, you'd see that she's done a magnificent job of creating a handsome, interesting man thus far. Except there's this big white blob where what makes him a man should be. And she's right, Sam. She needs to see the real thing or she's going to do something amateurish and ruin the whole effect."



"Hannah, you saw what happened when I looked at your painting. That happened because I think you're a fucking knockout, okay? And your daughter is a younger version of you, okay? If I take these shorts and this jock off, you're going to see just how much I ... appreciate ... you two." I emphasized 'appreciate', putting not a little sarcasm into it. "How do you think that's going to affect your innocent daughter? I like you two. I'd like to be able to stick around without things being all awkward from now on. There has to be some other way to work this out!"

"You're wearing a jock strap?" Hannah's lips turned up at the corners.

It was then that my mind played back my somewhat hastily spoken diatribe, and I heard "fucking knockout" and "take this jock off" and the amount of sarcasm I'd pumped into "appreciate" and realized that, once again, I'd run off at the mouth. All I'd have had to say was, "I want to help but I can't do this," and I'd have been fine. Instead, I'd dug a big, deep hole and flung myself inside.

"I can't remember the last time I saw a jock strap," giggled Hannah.

"Ha, ha," I said, heavily.

She reached to grip my naked shoulders.

"You really are a gentleman," she said, no longer smiling. "But I've known that for years, so I shouldn't be surprised." She let me go and stepped back. "Let me phrase things this way. The only other thing I can do is actually go find some man and ask him if he'll whip it out for my sixteen-year-old daughter. Of course I don't want to do that. I'm sorry I baited you like that, but I needed to get you to see how really stupid that would be. But asking you to do it isn't stupid. I trust you."

"You shouldn't," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't have such gentlemanly thoughts of you all the time like you think I do," I said. "Either of you."

"Oh?" Her voice sounded more curious than offended.

"We don't need to go into that," I said. "Suffice it to say that I've thought about you like a man thinks about a woman he finds appealing. And I mean really appealing."

"You said both of us?"

"She's growing up. So sue me. She's just as beautiful and interesting as you are."



"Why haven't you told me this before, Sam?"

"Why? Well, gee, let me think. You married my best friend and, when he died, showed no interest in any other man. I got used to being around you and that you valued me for being helpful. And even though this fascination with you as females is only recent thing, I still haven't had time to figure out how to moderate it, so if I pose naked, things will happen that I don't intend to happen. I don't have much of a life except for you two, and getting thrown out for admitting I like you a little too much in ways you don't appreciate, doesn't hold a lot of appeal to me. Does that about cover it?"

"I see. Well, as fascinating as all that is, we can talk about it later. For now, I need you to decide what you're going to do about posing for Heidi."

"You're kidding. Didn't you hear what I just said?"

"I heard every word, Sam and I'm just going to say this one more time. I cannot think of any man on Earth that I'd feel comfortable about being naked in front of Heidi ... except you, Sam. And if you get aroused, then that will just be some extended sex education for my daughter, who is going to see an erection sooner or later. If she has to see one, then I guess I'm just glad it will be yours and not Chiong King's down at the bank."



I blinked. How the hell do you respond to something like that?

[JEMMA]

Chapter Four

Hannah said she had to go take something out of the oven and that I should have a discussion with Heidi while she was gone. It was obvious Heidi was impatient as soon as her mother was out of the room.

"Come on, Uncle Sam," she said. "It's for art. It's no big deal. Hundreds of guys pose nude for art classes every day. It won't bother me and it's okay with Mom, and it's for my project... Please?"

I thought about suggesting that while "hundreds of guys pose nude for art classes every day, that probably isn't under circumstances where the model is known to the artist or when the artist was only sixteen. But I knew that would sail right over her head. She didn't actually want to negotiate about this.

"Here - would this make you more comfortable?" she asked when I didn't answer her.

Before I could do anything she reached behind her and untied her bikini top. I watched with unbelieving eyes as the cups slid off her breasts like the cloth weighed ten pounds. Then she flicked at the ties on her hips and the hot pink triangle that had covered her there dropped as well. Her adolescent pussy was suddenly displayed in all its glory.



I didn't know where to look. I mean I knew I should look away, but there was no chance of that. My eyes jittered, moving from her breasts (the nipples were brown, not pink) to a cleft that was amazingly easy to see, primarily because there wasn't a single strand of hair to obscure anything. The term "bikini cut" flashed through my mind at about a million miles an hour, followed by the argument that a classic bikini cut didn't remove all the hair, but then it didn't matter because I couldn't think of anything except gazing at her loveliness.

"Uncle Sam?"

My eyes finally went up to her face and some measure of control came back into my body. The look on her face was one of teenage angst, the kind I'd seen more than once when she was trying on a new outfit or a change in hair style and she was worried that it didn't look good.

"Beautiful," I whispered, automatically. That's what I always said in those moments when her confidence was flagging.

"Oh," she said. I saw her eyes change as the angst lessened, and my own eyes went back to ravaging her body.

She had that kind of flat stomach that young women have which, at least to a man (okay, to me) just screams out for something to swell it out, making it round as she creates life. Her hips were already ready to bear the weight of that baby and her legs looked longer than I'd ever seen them. My eyes slid back upwards, to what would feed that baby and I saw she was blushing from the upper swells of those mounds all the way up to her cheeks. Somehow that had made the nipples darker and her areolas were also more easily visible. They'd been a paler tan, just a little darker than her breast flesh, but now they had gotten more well-defined, somehow.

I think it was the fact that her nipples were as erect as any I'd ever seen in my life that caused the problem. The problem was that, while I'd known this girl all her life, and been her pal for most of that, there was no way I could merge what I was seeing into my memories of all those years. She was no girl. I couldn't even believe she was under the age of eighteen.

But that wasn't the real issue. The real issue was that I wanted to suck those nipples and fuck her until she screamed in orgasm.



"So … does this make you more comfortable?" she asked, her voice breathy.

"No," I said, required to think about every muscle it took to get that word out. It involved the lungs, the throat, jaw, and tongue, even my lips, which I had to lick before I could speak at all. That one-word sentence was punctuated by an exclamation point made up of another of my muscles, which was trying to break free of an old jock strap and pair of Fruit of the Looms.

It was then that Hannah returned from the kitchen, to see how the "negotiations" were going. I turned to look at her when she came in. I could see by how her eyes widened that the negotiations had progressed much farther than she'd expected them to. Or in another direction.

"Heidi , whatever are you doing?" she asked. You couldn't tell by her voice that she was surprised at all. I envied her self-control.

"I thought I could make him more comfortable by showing him that I don't mind being naked in front of him," said Heidi.

"I don't think that's how it works, Dear," said Hannah. She looked at me. "You okay?"

"No," I said again. I didn't have to think about all those muscles to speak, this time.

"See?" she said, turning back to her daughter.

"Well what else was I supposed to do?" asked Heidi in frustration. "I just want to finish this stupid painting!"

Hannah came and stood in front of me. She spoke softly and leaned toward me. I watched her lips move. They looked soft and delicious.



"Why don't we just show her what she's done to you?" she asked. "Maybe it would get her attention and teach her some manners."

I know that sounds silly now. I mean getting her attention would be a foregone conclusion, considering that, according to her, Heidi had never seen a real, live penis before. So the attention part would be obvious. It was the "teaching her some manners" part that now makes me want to laugh out loud. I mean, I get what Hannah was saying. She was frustrated, too, on a number of levels. But the concept of "teaching a teenage girl some manners" by displaying a rampant boner to her, pointing at it and saying something like, "See what you've caused now? Where are your manners, young lady?" sounds like something out of a bad sitcom. Now. Back then, with me not in full control of my mental faculties, it didn't sound so crazy.

"You have to stay here," I whispered.

"Of course," she said.

"Okay."

Hannah wasted no time. We've never actually talked about it, so I don't know what was going through her mind at that moment. Perhaps she wanted to do the "shock and awe" approach. I do know that she turned to Heidi and said, "Okay. You want to be all adult about this and I applaud that. But your actions have consequences and you need to understand what those consequences are. Sam has agreed to what you've asked him to do. So get over here and take his shorts off."

Actually, now that I think back on it, maybe it did get her attention, because she just stood there frozen for a few seconds.

"Me?" she squeaked.

"You're the one who wants him nude," said Hannah. "So get him nude."

"Okay," said Heidi, proving that she could recover from surprises faster by far than I could.

She came over and knelt in front of me. Her face was right in front of my bulge, which was painful by now. I couldn't help but imagine her leaning forward to suck my dick. Don't judge me.



She reached to pull at the elastic of the briefs and her fingers ran into the wider band of the jock.

"What's that?" she asked.

"He's wearing two things," said her mother. "You should probably only remove one at a time."

"Two things?"

"You'll understand in a minute," said Hannah.

Hannah had to pull the elastic as tight as it would go, but she got it over the tip of my cock and exposed the front of the jock.

"Hey. Is that a ...?"

"Yes," said her mother.

"That's what guys wear in gym, right?" asked the curious girl.

"Yes."

"I never understood why?" said Heidi.

"Think of it as a bra for a boy," said Hannah. "You support your breasts with a bra. A boy supports his testes with a jock strap."

"Oh."

"And, if a boy gets an erection in gym, one of those is supposed to control it so nobody knows," said Hannah.

"Oh," said Heidi again, who was in the process of shoving my briefs down my legs. "Makes sense, I guess."

"Which is why Sam wore one today," said Hannah. "He suspected he'd get an erection and he wanted to control it, so you wouldn't know it was there."

"Oh," said Heidi, a third time. "It's not doing a very good job," she pointed out.

The worn material in the jock strap wasn't up to the task of controlling anything at all, and I had one of those diamond hardons. You know those pictures you've seen of bikini tops that are minuscule and stretched across really big breasts? You can see everything except the tips of the breasts, right? Well that's sort of what my jock looked like. It was stretched so much that you could clearly see my balls hanging down, and some of the shaft of my penis.

Heidi's hands went to the top of the front panel of the jock. It was already stretched as much as it would go so all she could do was pull it down, bringing my penis with it. I winced, but then she jerked things and, suddenly, my manhood was bobbing up and down right in front of her face. I actually saw her eyes go cross-eyed a little bit until she moved her head back.

The jock, now wrapped around my upper thighs, was forgotten as Heidi moved back a little more.

"Wow," she whispered.

I looked up from my penis, which had stopped moving for the most part after nodding its head a couple of times. I imagined it saying, "Okay! I'm finally free! This is more like it. Now, where's that delicious little naked girl I saw through your eyes a minute ago?"

It wasn't difficult to personify my organ, actually. First of all it helped me pass the blame for my erotic thoughts to my little head. Second, while it wasn't bouncing up and down anymore, it was still moving around. I think that was the result of blood pressure, and little movements my hips were making or something like that. The point is it was moving a little bit, sometimes up as I clenched the muscles designed not to let sperm rush through it, and back and forth a little bit. The effect was of a dog's nose up in the air, sniffing around.



"Oh my," sighed Hannah, breaking my concentration. "I had no idea."

"Yeah, well ..." I said. "I tried to warn you. Maybe I should put my shorts back on."

"No!" yipped Heidi. Then, as if she'd just showed up, she said, "Wow!" again.

Heidi just stood there, but she wasn't alone. Her mother stood beside her and the eyes of both women were pinned to my errant cock. I had never considered the aesthetics of my privates before, but was forced to consider them now as both women stared in what was clearly something along the lines of awe. I'm not unduly endowed, but somewhere in the average range I suppose. Neither am I vain about things though, as I suspect most men have, I measured myself one time. At that point I was 6½ inches long when fully erect with a diameter of not quite two inches. I'm not circumcised.

And yes, I felt stupid for measuring it.

"It's so big!" Heidi whispered.

"No, it's not," I said. I think it was an automatic response. I'd have said the same thing if she'd said it was "so small". Anything other than, "Well, thank goodness, that looks completely normal!" would have gotten that response.

"Yes, it is," sighed her mother, whose tone of voice made it clear she was agreeing with Heidi, rather than arguing with me. I could see her nipples poking through her shirt now too, and it was apparent she'd gone sans bra that day.

So there I was, standing there with my little Blue Heeler's nose up and sniffing. The "prey" wasn't afraid of the dog, though, and hadn't screamed and run away. Believe it or not, it was so surreal that it calmed me down a little. I mean my worst fear, that of Hannah pointing toward the front door with thunder on her face, hadn't happened. So the worst was over … right?

"So I guess I should get back in my pose?" I suggested.

Heidi seemed to snap out of a dream.

"Yes! Lie down. I need to study you."

I spoke to Heidi as I got back into position. "Are you going to put your suit back on now?" It was a suggestion, rather than a question.

"No," she said, staring at my groin. "This feels really nice."

I looked at Hannah, who was also still staring at my groin. It was a little amazing that she was that shocked … and yet not upset about it.

I resumed the pose she'd had me in and Heidi came over to stand and stare. She licked her lips, and my cock bobbed. Finally she returned to the easel and started doing things there.



Hannah fanned her face with a hand and smiled. I was pretty sure she was just trying to make me feel better.

"This is better," said Heidi from behind her easel. "But there's just one more problem. I can't paint him like that."

"I thought this was what you wanted," I groaned.

"It is. I mean I need to see it, but I can't render it looking like that. Think about it. In what museum have you ever seen a naked man depicted with a hardon?"

"Erection," corrected Hannah.

"Okay, erection," said Heidi.

"So you want him naked, but not hard," said Hannah.

"Exactly. Though I'm not complaining about it, really. This has been really cool, getting to see him like that. But I really need him soft instead of hard."

"Why don't you let me talk to Sam about that. Give us five minutes and then come back in," said Hannah.

"What can happen in five minutes?" asked the curious teen.

"Never mind that," said Hannah. "Just give him time to relax a little."

"Okay. I need a snack anyway," said Heidi.

When the door had closed Hannah came over to the bed and sat down on the edge.

"So," she said. "What do you propose we do about your naughty little friend?"

"Do?" This was all moving a little fast for me. This is not to say I wasn't running along behind the wagon Hannah was perched on, as it trundled down the road. I was trying hard to keep up.



"Obviously something needs to be done to make things more ... relaxed," she said.

"Sweetie, you know I love you," I said. "But you don't have to do this."

"Do what?" she asked, sounding innocent.

"Have sex with me," I said, trusting that I was reading things correctly. After all, she'd said that getting a boner for her was fine, but it seemed like this was moving kind of fast. I mean we hadn't even gone out on a date, yet.



I saw her eyes widen and she leaned away from me.

"You want to do that?"

Something was wrong. She wasn't purring and taking her clothes off.

"Well ... if you do," I said, sounding like I was closer to Heidi's age than my own.

I honestly think that what happened then was the result of the fact that we knew each other so well. Had there been less history between us I'm quite sure things would have gone sideways and the whole train would have come off the tracks.

"I was thinking more of a hand job," said Hannah, staring right into my eyes.

"Oh!" I said. "I'm sorry." I swallowed. "I don't think too clearly when I'm like ... this." I glanced down at Fido, who was still sniffing the air, waiting for somebody to be nice to him.



"I see," she said. "Do you actually need any help with that?"

"Desperately," I said. Actually it was my little head that made me say it. "I mean, I don't want Heidi to have to arrange me in my pose again." It was lame, but then at that point in time I was lame.

She actually smiled. She'd called me a "BSH" on more than one occasion, usually when I was feeding Heidi some wild story and claiming it was a hundred percent true.

"Yes. We wouldn't want that, would we."

I was red-faced, most likely with shame at having handled all this so poorly. But I'd been blindsided. I had no idea Hannah might have been willing to expand our relationship past where it had gone. Even now I wasn't sure how much expanding she had in mind.



"You don't have to help," I sighed.

"And that's why I'm willing to," she said, reaching for my cock...... ....

[JEMMA]

Chapter Four

Hannah said she had to go take something out of the oven and that I should have a discussion with Heidi while she was gone. It was obvious Heidi was impatient as soon as her mother was out of the room.

"Come on, Uncle Sam," she said. "It's for art. It's no big deal. Hundreds of guys pose nude for art classes every day. It won't bother me and it's okay with Mom, and it's for my project... Please?"

I thought about suggesting that while "hundreds of guys pose nude for art classes every day, that probably isn't under circumstances where the model is known to the artist or when the artist was only sixteen. But I knew that would sail right over her head. She didn't actually want to negotiate about this.

"Here - would this make you more comfortable?" she asked when I didn't answer her.

Before I could do anything she reached behind her and untied her bikini top. I watched with unbelieving eyes as the cups slid off her breasts like the cloth weighed ten pounds. Then she flicked at the ties on her hips and the hot pink triangle that had covered her there dropped as well. Her adolescent pussy was suddenly displayed in all its glory.



I didn't know where to look. I mean I knew I should look away, but there was no chance of that. My eyes jittered, moving from her breasts (the nipples were brown, not pink) to a cleft that was amazingly easy to see, primarily because there wasn't a single strand of hair to obscure anything. The term "bikini cut" flashed through my mind at about a million miles an hour, followed by the argument that a classic bikini cut didn't remove all the hair, but then it didn't matter because I couldn't think of anything except gazing at her loveliness.

"Uncle Sam?"

My eyes finally went up to her face and some measure of control came back into my body. The look on her face was one of teenage angst, the kind I'd seen more than once when she was trying on a new outfit or a change in hair style and she was worried that it didn't look good.

"Beautiful," I whispered, automatically. That's what I always said in those moments when her confidence was flagging.

"Oh," she said. I saw her eyes change as the angst lessened, and my own eyes went back to ravaging her body.

She had that kind of flat stomach that young women have which, at least to a man (okay, to me) just screams out for something to swell it out, making it round as she creates life. Her hips were already ready to bear the weight of that baby and her legs looked longer than I'd ever seen them. My eyes slid back upwards, to what would feed that baby and I saw she was blushing from the upper swells of those mounds all the way up to her cheeks. Somehow that had made the nipples darker and her areolas were also more easily visible. They'd been a paler tan, just a little darker than her breast flesh, but now they had gotten more well-defined, somehow.

I think it was the fact that her nipples were as erect as any I'd ever seen in my life that caused the problem. The problem was that, while I'd known this girl all her life, and been her pal for most of that, there was no way I could merge what I was seeing into my memories of all those years. She was no girl. I couldn't even believe she was under the age of eighteen.

But that wasn't the real issue. The real issue was that I wanted to suck those nipples and fuck her until she screamed in orgasm.



"So … does this make you more comfortable?" she asked, her voice breathy.

"No," I said, required to think about every muscle it took to get that word out. It involved the lungs, the throat, jaw, and tongue, even my lips, which I had to lick before I could speak at all. That one-word sentence was punctuated by an exclamation point made up of another of my muscles, which was trying to break free of an old jock strap and pair of Fruit of the Looms.

It was then that Hannah returned from the kitchen, to see how the "negotiations" were going. I turned to look at her when she came in. I could see by how her eyes widened that the negotiations had progressed much farther than she'd expected them to. Or in another direction.

"Heidi , whatever are you doing?" she asked. You couldn't tell by her voice that she was surprised at all. I envied her self-control.

"I thought I could make him more comfortable by showing him that I don't mind being naked in front of him," said Heidi.

"I don't think that's how it works, Dear," said Hannah. She looked at me. "You okay?"

"No," I said again. I didn't have to think about all those muscles to speak, this time.

"See?" she said, turning back to her daughter.

"Well what else was I supposed to do?" asked Heidi in frustration. "I just want to finish this stupid painting!"

Hannah came and stood in front of me. She spoke softly and leaned toward me. I watched her lips move. They looked soft and delicious.



"Why don't we just show her what she's done to you?" she asked. "Maybe it would get her attention and teach her some manners."

I know that sounds silly now. I mean getting her attention would be a foregone conclusion, considering that, according to her, Heidi had never seen a real, live penis before. So the attention part would be obvious. It was the "teaching her some manners" part that now makes me want to laugh out loud. I mean, I get what Hannah was saying. She was frustrated, too, on a number of levels. But the concept of "teaching a teenage girl some manners" by displaying a rampant boner to her, pointing at it and saying something like, "See what you've caused now? Where are your manners, young lady?" sounds like something out of a bad sitcom. Now. Back then, with me not in full control of my mental faculties, it didn't sound so crazy.

"You have to stay here," I whispered.

"Of course," she said.

"Okay."

Hannah wasted no time. We've never actually talked about it, so I don't know what was going through her mind at that moment. Perhaps she wanted to do the "shock and awe" approach. I do know that she turned to Heidi and said, "Okay. You want to be all adult about this and I applaud that. But your actions have consequences and you need to understand what those consequences are. Sam has agreed to what you've asked him to do. So get over here and take his shorts off."

Actually, now that I think back on it, maybe it did get her attention, because she just stood there frozen for a few seconds.

"Me?" she squeaked.

"You're the one who wants him nude," said Hannah. "So get him nude."

"Okay," said Heidi, proving that she could recover from surprises faster by far than I could.

She came over and knelt in front of me. Her face was right in front of my bulge, which was painful by now. I couldn't help but imagine her leaning forward to suck my dick. Don't judge me.



She reached to pull at the elastic of the briefs and her fingers ran into the wider band of the jock.

"What's that?" she asked.

"He's wearing two things," said her mother. "You should probably only remove one at a time."

"Two things?"

"You'll understand in a minute," said Hannah.

Hannah had to pull the elastic as tight as it would go, but she got it over the tip of my cock and exposed the front of the jock.

"Hey. Is that a ...?"

"Yes," said her mother.

"That's what guys wear in gym, right?" asked the curious girl.

"Yes."

"I never understood why?" said Heidi.

"Think of it as a bra for a boy," said Hannah. "You support your breasts with a bra. A boy supports his testes with a jock strap."

"Oh."

"And, if a boy gets an erection in gym, one of those is supposed to control it so nobody knows," said Hannah.

"Oh," said Heidi again, who was in the process of shoving my briefs down my legs. "Makes sense, I guess."

"Which is why Sam wore one today," said Hannah. "He suspected he'd get an erection and he wanted to control it, so you wouldn't know it was there."

"Oh," said Heidi, a third time. "It's not doing a very good job," she pointed out.

The worn material in the jock strap wasn't up to the task of controlling anything at all, and I had one of those diamond hardons. You know those pictures you've seen of bikini tops that are minuscule and stretched across really big breasts? You can see everything except the tips of the breasts, right? Well that's sort of what my jock looked like. It was stretched so much that you could clearly see my balls hanging down, and some of the shaft of my penis.

Heidi's hands went to the top of the front panel of the jock. It was already stretched as much as it would go so all she could do was pull it down, bringing my penis with it. I winced, but then she jerked things and, suddenly, my manhood was bobbing up and down right in front of her face. I actually saw her eyes go cross-eyed a little bit until she moved her head back.

The jock, now wrapped around my upper thighs, was forgotten as Heidi moved back a little more.

"Wow," she whispered.

I looked up from my penis, which had stopped moving for the most part after nodding its head a couple of times. I imagined it saying, "Okay! I'm finally free! This is more like it. Now, where's that delicious little naked girl I saw through your eyes a minute ago?"

It wasn't difficult to personify my organ, actually. First of all it helped me pass the blame for my erotic thoughts to my little head. Second, while it wasn't bouncing up and down anymore, it was still moving around. I think that was the result of blood pressure, and little movements my hips were making or something like that. The point is it was moving a little bit, sometimes up as I clenched the muscles designed not to let sperm rush through it, and back and forth a little bit. The effect was of a dog's nose up in the air, sniffing around.

"Oh my," sighed Hannah, breaking my concentration. "I had no idea."

"Yeah, well ..." I said. "I tried to warn you. Maybe I should put my shorts back on."

"No!" yipped Heidi. Then, as if she'd just showed up, she said, "Wow!" again.

Heidi just stood there, but she wasn't alone. Her mother stood beside her and the eyes of both women were pinned to my errant cock. I had never considered the aesthetics of my privates before, but was forced to consider them now as both women stared in what was clearly something along the lines of awe. I'm not unduly endowed, but somewhere in the average range I suppose. Neither am I vain about things though, as I suspect most men have, I measured myself one time. At that point I was 6½ inches long when fully erect with a diameter of not quite two inches. I'm not circumcised.

And yes, I felt stupid for measuring it.

"It's so big!" Heidi whispered.

"No, it's not," I said. I think it was an automatic response. I'd have said the same thing if she'd said it was "so small". Anything other than, "Well, thank goodness, that looks completely normal!" would have gotten that response.

"Yes, it is," sighed her mother, whose tone of voice made it clear she was agreeing with Heidi, rather than arguing with me. I could see her nipples poking through her shirt now too, and it was apparent she'd gone sans bra that day.

So there I was, standing there with my little Blue Heeler's nose up and sniffing. The "prey" wasn't afraid of the dog, though, and hadn't screamed and run away. Believe it or not, it was so surreal that it calmed me down a little. I mean my worst fear, that of Hannah pointing toward the front door with thunder on her face, hadn't happened. So the worst was over … right?

"So I guess I should get back in my pose?" I suggested.

Heidi seemed to snap out of a dream.

"Yes! Lie down. I need to study you."

I spoke to Heidi as I got back into position. "Are you going to put your suit back on now?" It was a suggestion, rather than a question.

"No," she said, staring at my groin. "This feels really nice."

I looked at Hannah, who was also still staring at my groin. It was a little amazing that she was that shocked … and yet not upset about it.

I resumed the pose she'd had me in and Heidi came over to stand and stare. She licked her lips, and my cock bobbed. Finally she returned to the easel and started doing things there.



Hannah fanned her face with a hand and smiled. I was pretty sure she was just trying to make me feel better.

"This is better," said Heidi from behind her easel. "But there's just one more problem. I can't paint him like that."

"I thought this was what you wanted," I groaned.

"It is. I mean I need to see it, but I can't render it looking like that. Think about it. In what museum have you ever seen a naked man depicted with a hardon?"

"Erection," corrected Hannah.

"Okay, erection," said Heidi.

"So you want him naked, but not hard," said Hannah.

"Exactly. Though I'm not complaining about it, really. This has been really cool, getting to see him like that. But I really need him soft instead of hard."

"Why don't you let me talk to Sam about that. Give us five minutes and then come back in," said Hannah.

"What can happen in five minutes?" asked the curious teen.

"Never mind that," said Hannah. "Just give him time to relax a little."

"Okay. I need a snack anyway," said Heidi.

When the door had closed Hannah came over to the bed and sat down on the edge.

"So," she said. "What do you propose we do about your naughty little friend?"

"Do?" This was all moving a little fast for me. This is not to say I wasn't running along behind the wagon Hannah was perched on, as it trundled down the road. I was trying hard to keep up.



"Obviously something needs to be done to make things more ... relaxed," she said.

"Sweetie, you know I love you," I said. "But you don't have to do this."

"Do what?" she asked, sounding innocent.

"Have sex with me," I said, trusting that I was reading things correctly. After all, she'd said that getting a boner for her was fine, but it seemed like this was moving kind of fast. I mean we hadn't even gone out on a date, yet.



I saw her eyes widen and she leaned away from me.

"You want to do that?"

Something was wrong. She wasn't purring and taking her clothes off.

"Well ... if you do," I said, sounding like I was closer to Heidi's age than my own.

I honestly think that what happened then was the result of the fact that we knew each other so well. Had there been less history between us I'm quite sure things would have gone sideways and the whole train would have come off the tracks.

"I was thinking more of a hand job," said Hannah, staring right into my eyes.

"Oh!" I said. "I'm sorry." I swallowed. "I don't think too clearly when I'm like ... this." I glanced down at Fido, who was still sniffing the air, waiting for somebody to be nice to him.



"I see," she said. "Do you actually need any help with that?"

"Desperately," I said. Actually it was my little head that made me say it. "I mean, I don't want Heidi to have to arrange me in my pose again." It was lame, but then at that point in time I was lame.

She actually smiled. She'd called me a "BSH" on more than one occasion, usually when I was feeding Heidi some wild story and claiming it was a hundred percent true.

"Yes. We wouldn't want that, would we."

I was red-faced, most likely with shame at having handled all this so poorly. But I'd been blindsided. I had no idea Hannah might have been willing to expand our relationship past where it had gone. Even now I wasn't sure how much expanding she had in mind.



"You don't have to help," I sighed.

"And that's why I'm willing to," she said, reaching for my cock...... ....

[vulnerability]

The pic was excellent.

[inflection]

Great stuff!! More please.

[ctscan]

bro, love your story and thsk.

[healthsex]

Another big fan camping here.

[Endfield2017]

Superb pic.

[KeppelBayResort]

Bro, excellent story, tshk.