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You Again? (rpfiend_123 & AnnaBeth Belle)

Mike had positioned himself outside of a clothing store on a bench, one arm laying across the back of the black metal, remembering the last time he'd been there, not one day prior, with a small redhead next to him. Now, he was back at that same mall - but the redhead was inside shopping, with his daughter. He was finally settling in to the 'weirdness' of the situation; accepting that if he truly wanted things to move forward, he'd have to be prepared not only for the most dire of consequences, but also, just run-of-the-mill strangeness.

He folded one leg over the other and pulled out his phone, using the large, calloused pad of his thumb to clumsily type out a reply to an email thread he was on with a bunch of the other principals, glancing up every now and then to make sure Sammie and Brooke were still in the store. The number of times he'd lost them at the mall, only to find them in a completely different level shopping for something way-too expensive for them had left him wary of leaving them out of sight for too long. He noticed two other girls had stepped in their vicinity - most likely a few years older from the looks of it. He glanced back down at his phone, thinking nothing of it, but hearing some faint giggling. As a dad, husband and educator, he knew it was better not to care about what went on in those conversations that were more laughter than words. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought about it.

He was halfway through the reply on his phone when he heard the uncharacteristically loud, yet unmistakable yell from Brooke inside the store. He reflexively whipped his head in that direction, expecting to see her and Sammy horseing around - wanting to shoot them a disapproving look for disrupting the store; instead caught what seemed to be a tense moment between the 4 girls. He uncrossed his legs, sitting forward, ready to get up in case the situation needed some adult supervision. Words were exchanged, and soon Brooke was burying her face in her friend's shoulder, and Sammie was looking at her father, her face screaming "What do I do??" Mike stood up as they approached, not able to see Brooke's face completely, but from the way she her head was lowered, and her hand repeatedly dabbed at her eyes, it was clear she was crying.

Mike frowned, searching the crowd for the two girls who had disappeared quickly before glancing back at the pair. "What happened?" He asked, the empathy clear in his tone. He slipped a hand across Brooke's shoulder as Sam handed her off to her father. Sam took after her mother slightly when it came to messy, emotional situations; she wasn't as cold as Claire, but was just as unsure. Mike, on the other hand, had a minor in counseling and was used to crying, emotional teens in his office all day long. Most of the time, he was understanding, yet firm; but when it came to Brooke, even before that week's events, he'd been a lot more coddling. Who knows? Maybe he'd been harboring some complicated feelings for her for some time? Either way, that side of him came out immediately as he brought her into a tight hug, holding her against his stomach and leaning over her a bit. His forearm wrapped around her back entirely and his other hand rested on the back of her red hair.

"Do I need to go find those girls?" He asked, his eyes still scanning for them. "No.." Sammie said. "They didn't really do anything to us they just.." she paused, knowing that her father wouldn't leave well enough alone if he wasn't 100% sure justice was dispensed. "They just said some stuff about you and Brooke.. err.. we got upset." Sam reached forward, placing a palm on Brooke's shoulder and patting her a couple times. He cocked an eyebrow in curiosity. "What?" He glanced down at Sam "What did I do to them??" He said, the tone of his voice making it clear that he wasn't at all upset, but playing to be so. "They don't have to tease me just because I'm an old man.." He gripped the top of Brooke's arms firmly, pulling her away from him and leaning down a bit to get a better look at her reddened face. He put one finger under her chin and raised it up. "Don't worry.. I can take it. I was teased a lot as a kid, so I'm used to it." he winked at her and smiling wide. He got between Sam and Brooke and slipped his arms around their shoulders. "I think we need Ice Cream. Who's in?"

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On the way home, Sam was texting on her phone when Mike heard a soft "Yessss.." come from the back seat. "Hey dad, Becca and some of the other soccer girls want to do a pickup game at the park tonight. Can I go? Becca said she can pick me up and take me back home." Sam often felt guilty about her dad chauffeuring her everywhere; often, securing rides with friends was a favorite tactic of hers when it came to getting his permission to go places. Mike looked in the rear view mirror, meeting her pleading gaze. "Sure." Glancing from Sam to Brooke and then back to the road. He hadn't been alone with Brooke since the incident in the dressing room, and was eager to be one on one with her again. "Just be home by midnight."

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Mike stood at the entrance to his house, waving as Becca drove off down the street with Sam in tow.

He shut the door, locking it instinctively before turning around, noting the silence of the empty house and feeling a tinge of nerves spread over him. Alone at last. But what would that mean for him? He wasn't sure. He walked up the stairs to Sam's room, knocking on the door. "Hey Brooke, can I come in?"
 
The taps on the door made Brooke jump, almost dumping her computer off of her lap. Upset by the incident in the mall and completely unsure how to even begin to feel about it on a more rational level, she'd been mindlessly browsing Pinterest, scrolling page after page of her favorite things and just randomly clicking. Her feed was going to be interesting tomorrow because of it, but that was just part of the fun and frustration of the site. "Just a seconds," she called out. Not bothering to close the screen, the redhead sat the computer on the bed and got up. The bags of Samantha's purchases were scattered on the bed and some on the floor. Typical Samantha, so eager to go out and push her body with sports and chase the thrilling high it brought her by attempting to appease her competitive nature. It wasn't enough that she'd lettered as a Freshman, Samantha was always looking for the next match. That drive came from Mike, Brooke knew, and she wondered if he'd been the same way when he was Sammie's age. Would he have even given Brooke a glance then or was it just because he was older now and...

And what? What was going on between them and why? It was so confusing!

"Sorry," she said as she opened the door and stood there, one hand on the doorknob still, slender body not quite blocking Mike's entrance. "I was just," Brooke gestured towards her laptop's screen, full of clothes and weighty articles such as How To Wear Leggings 2017 and We Tried 5 Different Ways to Clean a Beauty Blender and Here's What Happened. Mike was still dressed as he had been at the mall, in the t-shirt and jeans that had been part of the problem. Brooke bit her bottom lip, not quite looking Mike in the face, then stepped backwards into the room and went to sit on the edge of the bed, absently moving a bag Sammie hadn't unpacked and placing it by the pillows. Now she did look up into Mike's face, still uncertain about things, her eyes shifting from his to his chest and back again. "They weren't teasing you or saying bad things about you," Brooke confessed. For the rest of the trip Mike had been trying, obliquely but clear to Brooke, to find out what had happened at the mall. She'd resisted, knowing it was too dangerous to talk about in front of Sammie, and for her part Sammie had been a wonderful friend as always and closed ranks with Brooke, not talking about it either. It was part of Mike's nature as a protector that he wouldn't give up on the issue, though he would give Brooke or any other student enough time and space to want to talk to him about it. With everyone gone now was the right time.

"They called you a DILF. Like, you know, a MILF but for Dads," she said, knowing Mike would understand the meaning. He worked in a high school after all and heard all sorts of things from teachers and kids, and he was just so smart. "And they joked about wanting to be your clothes and one of them wanted to call you Daddy and, I just, I mean Sammie was right there and you're her Dad! And we'd, you and me, in the store?" Brooke took a breath to calm herself and her thoughts but it was only partially successful. "It's stupid. I was jealous like you were my boyfriend or something and they were going to take you away from me because they're older and prettier and you could, you know, with them and not worry." Brooke shook her head, "I don't want you to. I don't want you to not like me any more and not want to kiss me like you did earlier."
 
Mike sat down on the bed next to her, leaning back on his elbow and letting his legs lie closely to hers; they'd obviously broken a much more compromising physical barrier the day prior, so laying next to her on the bed wasn't all that bad in comparison. He listened as she talked, the worry in her voice apparent to him. He was a natural listener, it was part of what made him such a good Vice Principal. He could tell that she was bothered by what happened, but when she said the word DILF, and then attempted to explain it to him, he raised an eyebrow and had to stifle a laugh by tightening his lips. Of course he was proud of his body; he'd worked hard to keep it in shape. But to him, it was more about personal responsibility than about people thinking he was hot; he'd given up on toning his body for looks a long time ago, when Claire stopped caring. However, he'd be lying if he didn't say it felt good to catch a passing glance of some senior in the halls, or to be called a DILF at the mall by some college girls. He let her finish, letting some silence fill the room just in case there was more.

He slid his hand forward to find hers on the bed, gripping it and noting the size difference between them again. The electric feel of his skin touching hers - still undiminished - caused him to reflexively tighten his fingers around hers and he rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand. "First of all.." he said after a pause "They're older, yes.. but prettier? No way." He sat up a bit and reached up his other hand to cradle her face, his fingertips playing with the back of her fire-like locks. "You're so.." he paused. He had almost said 'pretty,' but somehow, the typical platitudes he gave to girls with self esteem issues crying in his office wouldn't fit here. He locked eyes with her, "You're absolutely stunning, Brooke." His sincere look broke into a wide smile and the way his dimples tugged at the corners of his mouth showed he was being completely honest.

"Did you not see the stupid look on my face when I saw you in.." nibbling his lip, trying to find the line between sincere and vulgar. "When I saw you yesterday? You were gorgeous and I couldn't keep my hands off of you.." He scooted a bit closer, his knee touching hers. "You don't have to worry about me not liking you anymore, I promise. I was honestly worried that I'd scared you or been too forward." He brought his face closer, touching his forehead against hers now and resting it there, looking down at their hands still intertwined.

He waited for a sign for her to pull back, but none came. She'd already said that she was worried he wouldn't want to kiss her again, but actions speak louder than words and he had to make sure. "And as far as not wanting to kiss you anymore, goes.." How honest should he be with her? He was just as confused about what was going on between them as she was - that much was apparent. But was it responsible for him to say how he felt? Shouldn't he wait until he had things 'figured out? He'd already made up his mind about wanting her; that was an irrational decision in and of itself - why add logic to it? The feeling of letting his emotions take him where they wanted the last couple of days had been a rollercoaster - but one he wasn't willing to get off of just yet.

'Honesty it is.' He thought. "I haven't had a kiss like that in.. well.. forever." He closed his eyes; his nostrils picking up her feminine scent again. The same one he'd smelled in that lingerie store that sent his mouth grabbing at hers. He swallowed. His chin dipped forward now, letting the warmth from her mouth guide his lips to hers once more, the hand on the back of her neck firmly guiding her mouth to his.

His mouth parted, asking for hers to open as well as his tongue slipped in. It was as if he had been starved for her - the minute he tasted her again, he released her hand and moved his strong palm to the top of her hip, where it met her waist. Her form was so tiny, that even there, his fingers could push against her back and hold her against his side. His kisses were full and warm and wet and for several moments, he refused to let either of them go up for air. If he wasn't going to have her for long, he would have what he could right now. Her taste was sweet, just as he'd remembered before, and his tongue swirled around hers with the expertise of his age.

He pulled back after a minute, breathing heavily, his tight shoulders heaving with exertion as his heart rate quickened. He wiped his bottom lip on the back of his hand and sat for a moment, his eyes locked on hers. "So yeah.." he chuckled. "You won't have to worry about me not wanting that." He bit his lip, holding down half a smile as he leaned against the wall that the bed was next to. For the first time in a couple days, he knew he had to show at least some restraint. His hands were begging to rip at her dress, but he knew the leap from kissing to the next level was a big one - and somehow, he felt he could hold out a little longer. His eyes fell over her body one more time before settling in to a more serious look.

"As long as you realize this has to stay between us.. ok?" It seemed a bit wrong to talk about something like this after their second amazing kiss in as many days, but he knew it was a necessary conversation to have. "I mean, I really like.. whatever this is between us and I don't want to stop but.. It will be really bad for both of us if anyone finds out so.." He paused, hating how heavy it had gotten all of a sudden. "So I don't mind if you call me a DILF.. As long as you do it in secret, ok?" He said, cracking a smile and winking at the young redhead.
 
"I won't tell anyone," she promised, eyes wide with the seriousness of youth and the breaths Mike had stolen form her mouth with his kisses. "I won't even put it in my online diary, and no one knows where that is or the password but me. Not even Sammie," Brooke said. "I promise." Brooke moved, seeming as if she was going to get out of the bed, but instead she straddled Mike's half recumbent form, her legs on the outside of his and resting her bottom on his thighs. When he started to move, she put her palm on his chest and shook her head. It should have been confident, sexy and in control, but the bitten lower lip and the way she stopped to see if he'd follow her lead instead of moving into the next step of the dance spoke to Brooke's uncertainty and inexperience. "No," she said and added, "please. I just want to explore," Brooke said and put both palms on Mike's chest, looking down at them. Even when she spread her fingers, digits scratching over the cotton of Mike's shirt, Brooke's hands still looked tiny in comparison to the breadth of Mike's muscular chest. The muscles beneath them were hidden folds and hills, hard as stiff rubber but warmer than anything the girl had ever though possible. With the occasional glance into Mike's face, seeking confirmation and encouragement, Brooke explored.

Her fingers traced along the swell of his shoulders and when they met at his throat Brooke felt for and found Mike's slow, heavy pulse on either side of his muscular neck. It was hard to feel but once she found it, Brooke's own heart jumped in the thrill of it and there was no chance her own pulse, quick and light, could ever match his though she wanted it to. Wanted her heart to beat in time, in rhythm, with Mike's and draw them closer together. Mike's pectorals rose like rolling hills from the valley between his biceps and upper arms. They were smooth and hard and Brooke felt for and found his nipples, nothing like hers but exciting and new to her experience. Lower she felt, learning the defined muscles of his abdomen, the hard ones over his ribs, and the lean long ones in his side. Mike's cut, veeing downwards, guided Brooke's hands to just above the fly of his jeans. Brooke stopped, holding her hands there in contemplation and fear of going too far into something she wasn't ready for but wanted more than anything to know. They grabbed the hem of Mike's shirt. "Help me," she asked, tugging it upwards and riding the movement of Mike's hips as he helped her, one arm at a time, take off his shirt.

The fabric was warm in her hands and she pressed a bundle of it to her face, rolling her cheek over it like a cat and taking his scent in obvious pleasure. "You smell so good," she told him, eyes shut in enjoyment of the moment. "I wish I could wear this to bed tonight so you'd be with me." Reluctant to let go, Brooke finally sat it on the bed by her left leg but continued to stroke the t-shirt with her hand for a little while longer.

Working upwards, following the same pattern as before, Brooke caressed and felt Mike's muscles. This time her hands slid differently, her fingers felt more and the sensations that flowed through them from caressing Mike's skin made her mouth part in an O of delight. "I've never done this before," Brooke said without stopping her exploration. "With...with my boyfriend it was different. I've never seen him with his shirt off. Not even when he took my virginity. I think it would have been better like this, for him to be patient like you are." One hand left Mike's chest to tuck her hair behind her ear. "I wish my first time had been with you," Brooke confessed and paused, searching Mike's eyes. "I should have saved myself for you. For a man and not a boy."
 
The quick motion to straddle him took him by surprise, and instinctively his hands went to her hips to receive her, not to pin her to him, but to let her know it was ok that she take her perch. Immediately his body began to work in reaction to the pressure on his lap. He felt his member swell as the soft curve of her backside imprinted itself supply on his thighs. He adjusted his position beneath her in an effort to reduce the amount of his length that she would feel against the back of her thigh, moving her effortlessly with his hips and sliding her forward a bit on him.

Her curiosity was enchanting to him, and he watched wide eyed and open mouthed as she ran her fingers across his shirt, and then, moments later, his bare skin, flush with the heat of the moment. Each touch causing him to twitch and tremble for a moment, almost imperceptibly. Her roving hands had the blood pumping quicker and quicker, and his body warmed to her touch in little spots of fire wherever her fingertips grazed. He nodded wordlessly as she asked to explore, and as she confided in him about her first time, confirming some suspicions that she wasn't completely inexperienced. He liked that. When the thought had crossed his mind previously about how far they might go together, it made him a bit uneasy to think about taking something so special from someone so young at his age, but at the same time, something about that thought was incredibly arousing.

He frowned a bit as she mentioned that she wished her first time had been with him and he rubbed her upper thighs slowly as he looked at her downturned face. The fabric of her dress riding up over her knees a bit, revealing fair, soft flesh dotted with red freckles. He glanced at them before trailing his gaze up to her face again. "Well I.." He was at a loss for words for the first time while navigating this new experience with her. What do you say to that? Obviously you can't go back and change it. "I promise you, one day you'll look back on it and smile. Sometimes mistakes seem so big in the moment, but after some time, they just become little things that make up who you are, y'know?" He sat silent, surprised at himself for coming up with a tidbit of wisdom that seemed almost too sage-like, even for him.

"Anyway, forget about that, ok? You can.. explore with me all you want." He said with a reassuring smile, looking up her forehead to her hair now, reaching up and running two hands through it, and down to her back, pulling her towards him for another soft kiss, letting her red hair drape over his face like a curtain - hiding him behind a reddened veil of scent and taste. His hands slipped down her back now as they kissed, finding a resting place on her lower back before moving down to take a full grip of her young ass, squeezing firmly and digging his fingertips into the soft, yet pert flesh and lifting her up slightly, both in an effort to press her body closer to his, and also in an effort to lift her up off of his growing erection - which was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute.

After a few more moments completely enraptured in her kiss, he pulled back, "Oh, I'm sorry, I got carried away.. Were you done exploring?" He teased, giving her a quick peck on the forehead.
 
Brooke shook her head side to side, answering Mike's question with a silent gesture. His hands had felt amazing on her ass, easily cupping it and making her feel tiny and safe even as dangerous feelings spread through her body from the sexual nature of his grip. It was a new feeling to Brooke, a new combination of love and lust that she'd not ever before experienced. Certainly not with her boyfriend who didn't know how to control himself and who only wanted to get his sad little boy prick into Brooke's slit, there to pump a few times while he grunted before spending inside the condom that was always threatening to slip off and put them both at risk. The only time they hadn't used one was when he'd made her jerk him off and that had been more awkward than disgusting.

The feel of his cock against her butt had not been missed for all Mike was trying to hide it. Why would he want to, she wondered. Did he think she was going to suddenly run off because she felt him grow hard and strain against his jeans, trying to get past them and to Brooke's body? Was Mike still seeing her as a little girl and not the woman she longed to be? Brooke looked down at the hands he'd slid from her ass and back onto her thighs. Watching him, watching his eyes, the girl slipped the slender straps of her dress down onto each arm, then pulled her arms through them. One hand at her throat kept the front of her dress from sliding down her virginal young breasts. "I want you to see them," she told Mike. "To really see them, like you almost did at the shop." When his hands moved as if to help her, Brooke shook her head again and used her free hand to put first one and then the other back on the tops of her thighs. "No. Just look at them. Tell me you like them and maybe I'll let you touch them," she teased. An inch at a time Brooke pulled the top of her dress down until the silk hung on her delicately hard nipples, exposing the top of her breasts to Mike's eyes. Without looking away from his eyes, Brooke tossed her head back, nose and chin going in a quarter circle as her body tossed the flower patterned fabric away, leaving her breasts exposed to Mike's eyes. Brooke reached down and captured Mike's hands beneath her own and laced fingers with him. She felt his cock jump, then jump again, and gave a pleased but still almost shy smile. "Do you like them? Do you like them...Mike?" she asked and squeezed his fingers. "Are they as good as Mrs. Stevenson's?"
 
An involuntary smile grew on his lips as she began to slip down the straps of her dress. When she told him about her desire that he see 'them' and then when she finally revealed her perky mounds, capped with perfect pink buds, his mouth dropped open wide. "Oh my god, Brooke.." he said in a breathy sigh, his eyes widening as he took in the site of both of her perfect breasts for the first time. He felt his member stiffen underneath her as he viewed them, his hands trapped by her own fingers. He took a moment to fight with his urges; she had asked him not to touch, only to look, and so he squeezed back at Brooke's hands with his own, trying his hardest not to break free of her grip. He bit on his lip and nodded in silent agreement when she asked if they were better than Mrs. Stevenson's. "Yes, Brooke." He said, glancing from them to her eyes and back to her chest. It wasn't that he hadn't seen many breasts before, it was who they belonged to that was so arousing to him. The curves showed the height of her youthful shape, and they were dotted with light red freckles. "They're perfect." He paused "They're so much better than Claire's.. I can't even tell you how much I want to.." he stopped himself. It was one thing to be offered such a perfect gift of her own accord - he didn't want to pressure her into letting him see or touch more than she wanted.

He felt if he didn't do something about them soon he would jump out of his own skin. Using Brooke's own grip to pull her closer, he leaned forward, placing a few kisses on her collar bone, then working his way down until his lips felt the softer flesh at the top of the slope of her breasts. He kissed down a bit further but stopped when his chin grazed the even softer, more tender flesh near the nipple. Then he moved his mouth back up and over to the other side, leaving a trail of half-open-mouthed, wet rings along her flesh. Dotting her skin little pools of saliva and heat. He kissed up in between them to her collarbone again, in a slow, steady pace of one lingering kiss every several seconds until he pulled back with a small, wet smacking noise.

The scene was too perfectly erotic to him; a half naked young woman, in the prime of her youth, straddled across his lap as he sat shirtless as well on her bed. She personified the look of innocence, but the fact that she'd exposed herself to him like that showed only the opposite. He let go of the grip of her fingers and slid his hands firmly down her thighs, hiking up her dress even more until only a few inches of silk blocked his gaze from between her legs. He'd seen half of her, and now he wanted more, but he also had gotten this far based on trust, and she'd asked him not to touch.
 
Parts of her skin were on fire from his kisses and other parts were as chilly as a winter's night where his tongue had left dabs of moisture from his mouth. Brooke floated under the direction of Mike's hands and lips and a bottomless craving to feel him deep inside her body threatened to overpower the shreds of willpower the teen possessed. It felt natural to just surrender herself to him, to do what Mike wanted, but Brooke was worried that even though it was what he wanted, the cock pressing insistently against his jeans and her bottom proved that, what would happen afterward? Would Mike lose all interest, or worse would there be such a sense of shame and guilt and wrong between them that he'd be unable to overcome it? Part of her felt it would be okay, because he'd willingly compared Brooke to Claire and Brooke had come out the winner and that was a massive jolt of pride to her ego. Claire, so smart and driven and successful, placed second to a girl her daughter's age in the mind of her amazingly handsome and fit husband. Claire who had everything couldn't keep her husband away from her daughter's best friend and she didn't even know it. Mike had picked her, picked her over his wife and over any other girl he probably could have at school.

The other part of her worried that Mike was going to be like so many boys she and her girlfriends talked about. Once they got the prize they lost interest in the game and she'd held too many crying friends, been in too many group texts full of anger and angst and heartbreak to risk having it happen to her. Who would Brooke even be able to turn to if it did? Her BFF, whose Dad she broke up with, who had an affair with her? Her other girlfriends? Like they could keep a secret and it wouldn't be everywhere almost as fast as Brooke confided in them.

"Wait," she urged Mike, then scooted back, the outline of his cock through his jeans catching the hem of her dress and pulling it from her butt towards her crotch as she moved. Brooke tugged at it, let out a frustrated noise, then raised up on her knees and pulled it off, leaving her only wearing a pair of panties, purple solid front with mesh accents on the side, the contrast with her pale skin was unexpectedly erotic. "Wait, seriosuly," she said when Mike kept reaching for her. To slow him down Brooke dropped her dress over his face and finished moving back so she was sitting on top of his shins, safely out of reach.

"I want to see you now," she said, blushing at her boldness but trying to sound confident and sophisticated. Brooke brushed her hair back and then rested her hand on Mike's thigh, just below where the leg met the crotch of his jeans. "I want to see... It. Your," she swallowed the nervousness turning her mouth cotton but still couldn't get the word out. "I want to see it. Please," she said and moved her hand to caress the outline of Mike through his jeans. Even behind the thick denim it felt hard and warm, and Brooke's hand stroked the long line of it up to where it vanished, then back down again to the base of his crotch. "It looks so big. So different than my boyfriend's," Brooke's words held more than a trace of awe. Several more times she stroked it, completely forgetting herself in the moment and not noticing how her breathing grew more rapid or that her bare breasts were flushed and hard-nippled. "So, so hard and big. I need to see it," the redhead said and her fingers worked at undoing Mike's jeans, frustration and lust in their almost uncoordinated movements, but finally the button popped through the hole and it took just a second to hurriedly unzip the fly. Brooke peeled the sides back, exposing Mike's briefs.

Her weight settled onto her bottom and Mike's shins again as she sat back. Brooke looked up to Mike's face, her own filled with trembling anxiety and burgeoning sexual confidence. "Show me," she invited then sucked her bottom lip in to gnaw on it as her eyes dropped to the outline of Mike's cock.
 
His eyes rolled back with a flutter of his eyelids as she placed her fingers on the outline of his shaft for the first time. It had been weeks since anyone's hands but his had been anywhere near his member, and the eagerness with which she stroked him felt divine. It was firm and delicate all at the same time, and by the time she had opened his jeans and unzipped them, it was tugging wildly at the front of his boxer briefs. He nodded, without answering, just the heavy, shallow breathing confirming he wanted to show her as much as she wanted to see it.

He lifted up his hips, so that his ass cleared the mattress and hooked his thumbs in his jeans, tugging downward. Soon, the dark denim had bunched around his knees and all that was left was a pair of snug black boxer briefs which were straining at the front and down the length of one thigh.

His eyes looked down at his own turgid erection, noting it's proximity to her own womanhood, hidden behind purple silk just half a foot away as she perched on his shins. Feeling a bit of freedom, the tip lurched upward like a caged predator leaping for it's out-of-reach quarry, and he winced in discomfort. "Ok.." He said, then, he reached for her hands, took them and slowly placed them on the waistband of his underwear, allowing her to hook her fingers into the tight elastic while he pushed downward on the tops of her hands, inching it down to reveal a thick, tan base. You could already see the formation of a few veins escaping from a short trimmed, dark-blonde patch of hair circling the edge. He shivered and let out a sigh as the heat from his trapped penis escaped, and was embraced by the cool air of the room.

He lifted his butt off the mattress again and allowed the fabric to slip over the curve of his muscular ass and free itself a bit more as the rest of his shaft was revealed. 7, 8 more inches of thick, swollen flesh were revealed before a circumcised head, pulsing and reddish. It sprung up quickly, weightily smacking against his lower stomach and pointing up to his bare abdomen that quivered visibly. He took his hand and reached in, grabbing his weighty balls and pulled them out to rest on the front of the boxer briefs, so that they were more comfortable. He looked at her face for a reaction, his eyes wide with desire and mouth agape, looking at the picture of her mostly-naked body atop his legs, sitting over his revealed shaft. From her angle, she could see the full length of the underside of his thick cock, swollen to maximum hardness and size. A vein running from base to tip.

"Well.. wh.. what do you think?" He asked, already knowing that it was probably one of the bigger ones she'd seen, but hoping it didn't intimidate her. "You can.. explore more if you want." He said, not forcing her hands anywhere for now, but waiting silently.
 
"I haven't really ever seen one," Brooke said after a long, open-mouthed and wide-eyed silence spent staring at it. The way he'd made her help him pull his boxers down had been heady, Mike showing her how to do it and guiding, teaching Brooke how to do it in the future. "It's huge," she added. "I mean, I know that much. My boyfriend's barely poked out of my hand," she gestured closing her fingers inward as if around a slender, invisible penis. "And it was skinnier too." Every time Mike's cock twitched because of her words or the beat of his heart, Brooke felt her own heart lurch in sympathetic response. It moved a lot more than she realized they did, and Brooke watched in fascination as it seemed to take on a life of it's own. Mike's cock was circumcised, she knew that much, just like her boyfriend. He was Jewish after all and she'd been sort of afraid Mike wasn't, not really understanding the difference but knowing it a little bit from Health class and Biology. It was also veined, something she didn't expect, somehow naively thinking it would just be smooth and featureless. Below it was Mike's sac, and she couldn't quite bring herself to look at that just yet.

"It's just so big," she repeated. "They're not all like yours, right? I mean," Brooke looked away and into Mike's eyes. "My girlfriends never said anything about them, they just were all kind of like my boyfriends. Even Danny Mauro's." Danny, the quarterback of the football team, was cocky in a way only young men could be and well known to the girls at the school. "Trisha? She's like co-cheer Captain? She said his was," Brooke held her hands apart, "but that it was really good. Like, you know, having sex? But I don't know, she's so extra sometimes and everything is always the best ever with her. I wish I could show her this, your cock, and see the look on her face when she opened the Snap." Brooke laughed, a little meanly, then went back to looking at Mike's cock. "I want to touch it," she said and laid the palm of her hand across the shaft, feeling it twitch a little bit and jerking back before giggling nervously and putting her hand back on it. This time Brooke wrapped, or tried to wrap, her fingers around it and lifted Mike's cock up to point at the ceiling. "It's so hot. And soft, really soft. But it's hard underneath," she said and gave it a firm squeeze. "Oh, I think it liked that," she said and laughed, full of teenage excitement and a crazy sexual thrill of making a man like Mike want her, at least his body did. Brooke tried to stroke it, but it was a little dry and didn't work very well so she went softly, fingers and palms gliding rather than sliding, as she moved all the way up to the tip. The crown of his cock momentarily pushed her fingers further apart and she felt him twitch extra hard then, and again when she went down to the base and pushed her hand a little firmly into Mike's groin.

"Does that feel good? Do you want me to keep doing it?" Brooke asked, eyes heavy and voice hitching a little in her throat.
 
He laughed nervously when she began discussing his size in detail, even threatening to send a picture to another one of his students. He raised a disapproving eyebrow and crossing his arms across his bare chest. "Don't you dare." He said jokingly, his forearms resting on the top of his toned rippling abdomen, which was still heaving quickly with excitement. Even the few moment of idle chatter, moments his mind spent not drunk with the eroticism of the situation, hadn't caused his erection to wane in the slightest. It was a testament to his virility, and his attraction to the almost nude young red head still perched on his legs.

"No they're not all like this.." he paused, wondering where the line between accurate and cocky was. He was proud of his size, and glad that he finally had someone who cared about it again- even if she was a bit unsure of what to do with it. His breath hitched as her hand reached for it- her grip was firm but her hand soft. He reached down and tugged at the sheets as his body tensed. You could see the movement of each ridge of his core muscles as they twisted beneath his skin- each time reacting to the pump of her small hands, barely able to hold it. He nodded as he bit down on his lip when she said that it liked her touch. "Y... yes that f.. feels good.." he said with a stutter brought on by pleasure. He let her continue, watching her hands and her face, the movement of her slender arms. The view of someone he'd known only in the purest sense, now doing something so wrong and inappropriate with someone 3 times her age, made his member harden to the point of discomfort.

"Ah!" He let out a gasp when her fingers touched the tip in a particularly sensitive area; almost reflexively, a long arm reached out and grabbed her by her panty-clad ass, pulling her to his side so that her thigh laid across his, and his hand rested on her hip. He squeezed it hard to steady himself as one leg kicked up in a spasm of ecstasy. His body settled back down but his mouth found hers once more. Opening wide and tasting her tongue hungrily - the saliva that had pooled in his mouth from the pleasure her handjob had caused spilling into hers. As his kissed her deeply, his mouth opening and closing with the slow rhythm of their makeout, his fingers that had previously been on her hip and ass found their way past the purple elastic barrier of her underwear, to the soft, warm curve of her ass.

His wrist disappeared inside the back of the lace underwear as he expertly worked his fingertips to the warm crevice between her thighs. He stopped just before he knew he would feel a warm, soft mound and held his grip there, waiting just a moment before venturing forward. His hand found what it had been looking for, the bottom of a dribbling slit just under where her ass cheeks stopped at her he backs of her thighs.

The length of his arms and the shortness of her stature allowed him to slide the pads of two of his fingers up the full length of her lips from behind as her ass cheeks were split slightly by his forearm. He began pressing down and rubbing in slow, methodical circles up and down the length of her privates - not entering but spreading her lips slightly as he slicked them over and over with her own juice.

His thighs continued to twitch and his mouth to assault hers as she pumped him and he rubbed her, moaning into her mouth little grunts of heated pleasure.. "oh. Brooke... fuck.." he said breathily, nibbling on her bottom lip before his tongue searched out her cheek, neck and shoulder with sucking kisses.
 
"Stop," she said, breaking free from his kiss and pushing at Mike's upper chest with one hand. "Mike, wait. Just," she held her palm flat on his chest, eyes a little wide as they looked into his and waited for him to settle. Brooke's chest heaved along with his own and her skin was flushed where it wasn't covered in brighter red patches where Mike had kissed and sucked a little too hard. One, just below her collar bone, would almost surely be a mark, a hickey, before the hour was up. Brooke didn't mind, it had felt wonderful and if it meant she had to be careful changing and with her choice of clothes for a few days so she could wear Mike's mark of passion then she would happily do it. "Just, I'm not there yet. Not yet," she said and pulled her body up to kiss him sweetly on the lips and cradle the side of his face. "I'm sorry. I'm not, I'm just not." Brooke wiggled and arched her body slightly away from Mike's, making his hand slip out of her cleft and drag damply across the small of her back. After reaching back and taking his wrist, Brooke brought Mike's hand to her face and after a small hesitation, kissed his moist fingertips. She'd tasted herself before and found it pleasant but always felt ashamed by it. Somehow her wetness coming off of Mike's fingers tasted better, mingled with the salty male flavor of his skin, and made Brooke feel sexy and good instead of ashamed.

"I'm sorry," she repeated then kissed each of his fingertips before taking Mike's damp hand and placing it to cover her small bare breast. "I want to give it to you, but not yet. Not...here, in Sammie's room. In her bed. I want it to be some place special." Brooke kissed Mike again and rested her head on his broad chest and looked down at his still rampant cock. Without saying anything, knowing he needed release and that somehow it would make him closer to her, Brooke took hold of his shaft and began to stroke it again. It was still a little dry so she brought her hand to her mouth and sucked each finger in, wetting them, then licked her palm until it was almost dripping damp. Yesterday she would have been disgusted with her actions. Today, held by a powerful man, looking at his proud cock, feeling the aching wetness between her legs put their by his kisses and caresses, it felt natural and sexy. It certainly helped as her hand now glided wetly on Mike's shaft, with little squishing noises that were adorably erotic. "You feel so good, Mike. I can't get over how sexy your cock feels. Your big, sexy, manly cock. It's so much bigger than a boys," she said and smiled to herself when the way her fingers caressed the bottom of his crown made his belly tense and a groan to come from Mike's mouth.

"Did you like that? Like this?" Brooke concentrated on that area, twisting her hand and rotating it just around that spot, slender fingers and the folds of her knuckles making pleasurable friction and delightful valleys that nestled his sensitive skin. As Brook stroked him a large drop of his precum, shimmering white and almost like a pearl, appeared and began to ooze down the slit at the top of his dick. Angela caught it with her thumb and rubbed it underneath his cock, finding it slippery and viscous and a much better lubricant than her spit. She wanted more of it, wanted to see more of it come out, and stroked from base to tip with a milking motion, dragging several large drops out and collecting them in her palm before adding them to the slippery mess that wetly coated Mike's amazing cock. The squishing noises grew louder and Brooke paid attention to Mike's moans, learning what made him happy and what didn't. Once the edge of her palm brushed his sac and he moaned and then thrust against her circled fingers when she stopped. Brooke moved up and held her hand still, making a circle of slippery skin that Mike strained into and penetrated again and again.

"Make my hand messy," she urged him. "My boyfriend did but I bet yours will be better. Please, Mike. Please let me feel you...feel you cum for me. I want to feel it and see it. Please, Mike. I'll make you happy every day if you'll just cum for me now and let me see it."
 
He froze a bit when she urged him to stop, hearing her reasons for not wanting to go any further, he nodded in sympathetic agreement. "Oh, of course.. that's fine.. I promise." He cooed, kissing her sweetly between reassuring her she could do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. Soon, though, she had her fingers on his hands, and then hers, and then proceeded to eagerly, if a bit novicely, stroke him, encouraging him with both her words and her touch.

His hips jumped and he let out ragged moans as his chest heaved over and over again when she worked him closer and closer to finishing. "I'm.. I'm going to.." he pressed his open mouth against her neck, letting out guttural sounds of anticipation when his member twitched, leaking a milky substance in small amounts prior to his full release. "Oh, my god, Brooke.. that feels so.." he could barely finish his sentence before the base of his cock twitched, muscles rippling from base to tip and forcing out a fountain of white ejaculate, launching several inches up into the air and splashing on Brooke's thigh and his. "Ohhh, shit.. Oh, shit.." He said through clenched teeth, his chin still nestled against the top of her chest.

His hand that had been resting on her breast slipped back around her back and to her ass, half uncovered by his previous explorations, and clamped down hard, digging his fingertips into her hip and ass and panties. His abdomen quivered violently, and his shaft spurted again, and a 3rd time, sending equally large, heavy loads of white cum over her knuckles and covering her hand with a viscous gel.

He laid there spent, as his reddened cock shrunk slowly in her hand, still heavy and full of the blood of arousal, but not quite as rock hard as it had been in her hand prior. He laid there for a moment, breathing heavily before laying back against the wall and looking in her eyes. He reached up a hand and brushed a lock of her red hair behind her ear with a smile. "That was.. Incredible, Brooke." he kissed her forehead, and her cheek, and then her pouty red lips. He looked down at his lap with a chuckle. "That's your fault." He nodded, getting up carefully and kicking off his jeans that had been around his shins. He walked to the bathroom and got a towel, rinsing it in warm water before walking quickly to the bedroom, smiling at Brooke the whole way. He knelt down and took her hands, wiping them off, and then wiping his own member off, now heavily dangling downward along his thigh. He kissed Brooke on the forehead again before putting his jeans back on.

He felt a bit guilty now, receiving such a beautiful release and not doing anything for her in return, even though it was at her behest. He knew she had asked him to stop, but he couldn't help feel as if he was ending something of a one-night-stand; putting on his jeans and skulking away, even though it was just downstairs. He sat down on the bed, still shirtless, damp, cum covered towel and his tshirt in his hand. He reached up with his other hand and rubbed her cheek. "Next time I want to make you feel good, too, ok?" He said, kissing her forehead once more. "How about we watch a movie until Sammy comes home, hm?" He locked eyes on hers with a comforting gaze.

"I'll make that special popcorn? Get dressed and I'll meet you downstairs."

________________________________________________

Watching movies with Mr. Stevenson's special recipe popcorn was a staple event whenever Brooke spent the night. After their few days of strangeness, something resembling a bit of normality seemed like a good idea. He put the towels and tshirt, along with another load of laundry in the washing machine and made a large bowl of popcorn. Sitting on the couch and scrolling through the movies on Pay Per View. He had changed into a white vneck tshirt and snug grey sweatpants; even as he waited, he felt a giddy smile form on his face, and something resembling butterflies fluttering around his stomach. He hadn't felt the energy of a youthful romp in decades, and even though they'd just gone much further than watching a movie, spending one on one time with her in the context of their new relationship was exciting to him.

Soon she was downstairs, and he made his arm stretch across the back of the couch so that she could cuddle up next to his side. He allowed her to pick a corny romantic comedy that he wasn't too interested in seeing - but then again, he'd given up his rights to choosing movies he wanted to watch when he got married and had a kid. He didn't mind. He just stroked her red hair gently and kissed her scalp every now and then, smelling her hair and locking it away into his memory. As was the norm, Brooke fell asleep against him about 3/4ths of the way through, and soon after he began dozing off himself.

The front door opening woke him up with a jolt, and he could hear Sam calling through the foyer. "Hey, I'm home." Mike moved quickly to stand up and move Brooke down on the couch before Sam turned the corner. "Hey Sweetheart." Mike responded drearily, turning off the TV where the credits of the movie were beginning to roll. "How was the game?"

"It was good." Sam said whispering, noticing Brooke was asleep and rolling her eyes. She leaned over and poked at Brooke's arm. "Wake uuuupppp." She said gently in a sing-song fashion. "I'm gonna go take a shower. But get up and go to bed." She rocked her friend's arm a few more times and disappeared up the stairs. Mike exhaled in relief that he hadn't been caught cuddling on the couch with a 16 year old. It wasn't the most incriminating thing they'd done that evening, but still, it would raise some questions he wasn't willing to answer.

He waited until Sam was up the stairs before he kissed Brooke on the temple and whispered in her ear. "Go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

That night's sleep was sound, full of sweet dreams he wouldn't remember in the morning.

___________________________________

He woke up rested, a few minutes before his alarm, and set about his morning chores; moving the laundry along, making coffee and breakfast. There was some dirty tupperware in the sink, meaning Claire had been home after he'd fallen asleep, and woken up and left before him. This morning it bothered him less than it ever had before, and he knew why. He sat at the table, sipping his coffee and doing his best to remember the night before. He sat, anxiously waiting for Brooke to wake up - wondering how she felt the morning after their tryst.
 
Sammie was still asleep and even though you could sing T-Swift at the top of your lungs next to her head before 9 and not wake her up, Brooke crept on mouse quiet feet into the bathroom using nothing more than memory and the faint glow of her phone's screen. The door shut with a click that made her freeze and she held her hand on the knob, listening at it, until she was certain Sammie hadn't woken up. Only then did she lock it, something the girls never bothered with, and turned on the light. Brooke pulled the neck of the heavy weight sweatshirt she'd worn to bed to the side. Oh God, it was so obvious! Yesterday she'd felt thrilled, empowered, to think about the hickey Mike left on her skin. It was like a badge of desire, or approval, a way of being told she was pretty and sexy and made him so hot he couldn't control himself. Mike, who was always in control of everything and she'd made him loose it. This morning though it looked like a streak of shame. He was her best friend's father, her principal, he was married! Brooke put her head in her hands, letting the sweatshirt rise back into place, and sat on the edge of the tub for a few minutes, trying to sort out how she felt. It was so complicated, so intense, way more intense than she'd ever felt about anything. Well, almost, that was reserved for when Mike's fingers had rubbed along the edges of her slit and that had been so powerful Brooke could barely stand it. If Mike hadn't agreed to stop, she knew that she would have gone all the way with him. Brooke wanted to, she really did, but she also wanted Mike to stay with her and not just leave once he got what he wanted. It was a mess.



"Hi," she said quietly, the fuzzy socks on her feet having allowed her to approach the kitchen without noise. Brooke wore the same sweatshirt from the movie and a pair of loose shorts in black and green confetti print. Her long slender legs were bare and the fuzzy socks, while comfortable, did not match at all. It was clearly a 'just woke up' outfit. Brooke leaned against the doorway, feet crossed, and brought her thumb up to her mouth to worry at the nail, but stopped when it hit her lip and Brooke made herself drop it. "They're both asleep." Brooke walked over to Mike and hesitated, then used her arm to make him scoot the chair away from the table and turn it. With only a look of need, Brooke all but crawled into Mike's lap and dragged his left arm into her chest, curling up around it and holding it tight. His right settled onto her head, drawing it in for a kiss on her hair, then it dropped lower and cradled the little ball she'd become into him, not saying a word and just waiting for Brooke to relax.

Finally it came, she gave a deep contented sigh and the tension flowed out of her body. Mike would never know what had been running through her mind, the worries and the thrills and the doubts and the sexy chills but he was smart enough and mature enough to know she just needed to be cuddled and reassured. "You left a hickey," she said and then sat up a little bit to pull the shirt away from her neck. The red bruise was just below her collar bone, near her throat, but it was low enough to be hidden if she was careful. Brooke's fingers traced it and she let the shirt hide it again. "And I don't care. I'm proud of it," Brooke declared in a quiet voice. "I just wish I could let other people see it so they'd know how wonderful you are. I used to think they were gross but I get it now. It's...just like a sign, you know? Saying that someone found you sexy enough to want to mark you as theirs." Brooke's voice was husky with emotion, and she followed up with a kiss to Mike's lips.

"Was I good for you? Really? I've only ever done it twice."
 
He cradled her when she crawled into his lap, smiling widely as she showed off her hickey with pride. When she asked if it was good for him, he raised an eyebrow. "Could you not tell? I made such a mess. It was.." he sighed, unable to find the words. "Well, it was great." He stroked her bare legs with one hand as they sat for a moment, enjoying the warmth of her body against his chest and stomach. Pulling her away for a moment to get a better look at her face as a thumb grazed over her cheek. "But I want you to know that you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with, ok? I want to do anything and everything you want to do, but if that's as far as we ever take it, that's ok too." he kissed her sweetly on the mouth, feeling the softness of her lips and breaking away quickly, not sure when Sam might get up. "But I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you, ok? I fully intend to explore as much of you as you'll let me." he winked, using her verbiage from last night. He liked the term exploring. For her, it was an exploration of everything. For him, an exploration of someone new.

He spent several moments feeling the softness of her legs with the back of his knuckles, wondering when they could be alone again and he could delve as deeply as she would let him into his desire for her. He wondered how he'd be able to keep his hands off of her while Sam and Claire were around - even though, lucky for him, that was becoming less of an occurrence these days. "Want some breakfast?" he asked, and slid her off of his lap as he got up, pouring his next mug of coffee and starting about looking in the refrigerator to see what they had to eat. He settled on a bowl of cereal for himself and offered some to her as well. He enjoyed the fact that even after something that could cause awkwardness between them, they were able to enjoy eachother's company while still clothed. He reached over several times during the meal to squeeze her hand, rub her back or rest his fingers on her thigh. That is, until he heard the footsteps of Sam coming down the stairs and removed his hand. "Morning, sweetheart." Mike said, "Want some cereal?"

Sam was aleady dressed for soccer camp and tied her hair up in a pony tail, "Nah, just gonna grab a cereal bar. Katie's coming to get me in like 5 minutes." Sammy walked over and gave Brooke a squeeze of a hug from behind. "Sorry you have to keep hanging out alone all day, Brookie. This weekend we'll do something fun, I promise!" She smiled and munched on her cereal bar.

Soon, they heard the honk of a horn. "Oh, that's me. Gotta go, Dad! Bye Brooke." She said, grabbing her bag and heading out the door with a slam. The weight of the fact that the two were alone now settled on him, and he turned around to face Brooke who was still at the kitchen table, he leaned against the counter. "You know, Claire's already gone to work, so." He paused, biting his lip. "It's just you and me. But we can do whatever you'd like today." He left his position against the counter and walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and rubbing them before kissing her on the top of the head. He started putting up the dishes. "But I do need to go to the gym for a bit." He patted his stomach "I don't want to get fat and have you not want me anymore." He laughed, walking to his room to begin changing into his gym gear. He stripped off his white vneck and took a black tank top out of his drawer, walking out into the kitchen again, shirtless as he fumbled to put a new shirt on. "You don't have to go with me this time if you don't want, but of course, company is always welcome."
 
"I think I'm going to Skype my mom and dad and see how their trip is going. It's, um, I don't know. Afternoon in Greece? I think that's right." The lie wasn't exactly a lie; Brooke did want to talk to her parents but mainly she wanted an excuse not to go back to the gym. Memory of how embarrassed she'd felt and how it had caused a fight between her and Mike made Brooke want to never go back there again even though it had led to a very happy situation between Brooke and Mike. Still, the thought of Mike working out, his muscles bulging and sliding and the intense expression on his face as Mike pushed himself to the limits of his abilities was extremely erotic. "Sorry," she said, turning away before Mike could see the way the thought made her smile or how it threatened to be exposed by the color in her cheeks. "Text me when you're on your way back?" she asked.


"Your mother's been spending your inheritance on tchotchkes. I don't know where we're going to put all of them," Brooke's father grumped, but in a happy way.

"Don't talk like that," Brooke's mother scolded from off screen and Sanford rolled his eyes in imitation of his daughter's frequent gesture. "It's bad luck. You want it should come true and Brooke and I end up alone in the world? Penniless and living on the streets?"

"You can move in with the Stevenson's," Sanford retorted, turning his head slightly to look towards where his wife was. "Brooke lives there so much anyway she's practically a goy."

"Oy vey!" Brooke's mother, Rachel, came into screen and lightly tapped her husband on his bald spot. "Don't you listen to him, Brooke. the sun's made him all mashugga. And we can clear out some of your law books if you're worried about where to put my pretties." Rachel kissed her husband's head and then leaned closer to the screen, treating Brooke to an close up of her eyeball. "Brooke, did you get sunburned?"

"Yes, mama. But I'm okay. Mr. Stevenson got me some aloe and put me to bed. I only had a little fever."

"Mr. Stevenson is such a mensch," Rachel said, nodding approvingly as she backed away from the screen. "You be sure to be nice to him."

If only she knew. "Yes, mama. I will. I'll make sure to thank him again for taking care of me."

"You should bake him something."

"Make him your grandmother Srednicki's hamentaschen," Sanford suggested. "Much better than your grandmother Cohen's," he said and laughed as Rachel began to scold him over the crazy notion that his grandmother had been a better cook than her grandmother. They were still happily arguing as a giggling Brooke said good-bye and closed the chat. Maybe she would make him something sweet. Did they have everything? Even if they did, Brooke decided, asking Mike to take her to the grocery store would be fun. Still she should see what they had just to be sure.

On her way to the kitchen Brooke passed by the door to Mike and Claire's bedroom, then stopped and walk backwards to it and opened the door to go inside. Their bedroom was large and even the king sized bed didn't make it crowded. It was easy to tell which side was Mike's and which was Claire's. Books were piled up on the nightstand on Mike's side, professional reading about school management, teenage psychology, and school law. By contrast Claire's was totally bare, seemingly superfluous. The woman had no give, no personality beyond that of work and an absently-annoyed approach to her family that made Brooke feel really sad for her. Even when she and Sammie had first become friends and Brooke had visited the Stevenson's house she had never really seen Claire have fun or just be a mom or a woman. If it hadn't been for Mike, Brooke would have still been friends with Samantha but wouldn't have spent so much time over there. Samantha liked spending time at Brooke's house too, but not having grown up in it, a noisy funny nagging arguing loving Jewish house was just a little too much for her to take except in small doses. She'd told Brooke once that she knew Brooke's parents were crazy in love with each other almost as much as they loved to argue about everything. To Brooke it was just normal, what you did with people you loved and liked, but at the Stevenson's arguments were dark, sharp-edged things that usually wound up hurting Mike or Sammie and not Claire.

The bathroom had two sinks, one much higher than the other for Mike. Claire's had a few beauty products out and Mike's had a shaving brush and cup, a bar of shaving soap, and a heavy looking metal razor, a kind of old fashioned one but not the scary flip open straight razor type. Little dried bubbles decorated the surface of the soap and smelled like sandalwood and herbs. The brush was still a little damp from this morning, and on a whim Brooke added some hot water to the mug and put the brush in to soak. She and Sammie used to watch Mr. Stevenson shave when they were little and Brooke still remembered how he made his soap. After the brush soaked, she poured out the water, got the soap soft, and started working up a lather in the mug. It was a lot harder than Mike made it look, and Brooke spent almost a quarter of an hour and several tries before she had it right. A sense of accomplishment filled her as she looked down at the lather and she brought the mug up to smell it again. Just like Mike, well a part of him anyway. Mike's scent was much more complex, much more incredible but this reminded her of him. Brooke pulled the brush up, stiff and thick with lather, then felt a rush pulse through her, a rush of arousal and memory of Mike's body. Almost in a daze she brought the brush up to her cheek and stroked the foamy lather onto her skin, then dragged it down her neck. Soft and rough at the same time, the bristles reminded her of Mike's fingers and the sight of the cream on her skin, the heat of it, was almost like he was kissing her. Brooke dragged the brush across the hollow of her throat and her eyes closed as she let out a small contented moan. For several minutes she brushed her skin with the shaving lather, letting the sensation push her gently into a lovely place where she was almost floating inside her own head. When she finally stopped, Brooke was breathing hard, almost panting, and she could feel her panties were as damp as her face. Feeling guilty about it, Brooke rinsed her face clean and put Mike's stuff away. Though no more soap was on her face, she still smelled like his shaving cream as she left the Stevenson's bedroom.



When Mike got back, Brooke was sitting on the living room couch, the soles of her feet on the cushion and she was balancing her tablet against her thighs. "Hi," she said and looked up from it. "How was your workout?" She was still in the same clothes as when he'd left but had brushed her hair a little and pulled it back into a low, loose ponytail.
 
Mike had two historically difficult workouts in the last two days - both due to an unprecedented amount of emotional and physical stress the last couple of days. Although he had some relief at the hands of Brooke the night before, he was still uncertain of where they would go from here, or what would happen between them - if anything. Maybe it all really had been a one time thing and she'd change her mind?

Either way, when he walked in the door and saw Brooke sitting on the couch, his navy blue tshirt was stained even darker around his chest and stomach, and his bare arms were still covered in sweat from the gym. He smiled when he saw her sitting there, tablet on her lap. "It was good, thanks. But I stink, so I'm going to get in the shower. Did you decide what you wanted to do today?"

He walked past her, taking his shirt off as he entered the bedroom, absent-mindedly leaving the door open and tossed it into the open laundry hamper in their walk-in closet, removing his black athletic shorts and boxer briefs, tossing them in as well. Soon, his hot shower was running and he stepped in, relieving his sore muscles and washing away the sweat and smell of his exertion. He reflected on the last 48 hours, a whirlwind of bad decisions driven by passion and clouded by lust.. or was it, something more? He was still unsure. Either way, it had an undeniable effect on his body. His member grew frustrated and angry between his legs as he stood in the shower, water dripping off it's length - desirous for even more of the young woman in the other room. He denied himself self-pleasure and decided not to do something about it, even though he knew it would be frustrating and uncomfortable throughout the day.

He got out, and dried off, soon re-emerging to the living room, and noting that Brooke wasn't still on the couch, figured she'd gone upstairs to get ready for the day. It wasn't like her to spend a whole day in pajamas, something about the need to wear cute clothes - he remembered hearing her say one time when Sammy teased her about forcing them to change out of their t-shirts even though they weren't going anywhere.

The scent of his deodorant was strong, reacting to the lingering heat of his recently worked muscles - as he headed up the stairs, pausing and knocking on the door. "Hey Brooke, are you decent?" He asked, even though he'd seen her mostly undressed at this point, he still didn't think it was quite to the point where he could walk in on her unannounced.
 
"Don't come in," she answered after a moment and Mike could hear the bed shift as she got up off of it. When she next spoke, Brooke's voice was just by the door though she didn't open it. "Can you go to the grocery store and get some things for me, please? I'll text you the list in a few minutes, Mr. Stevenson." One hand flat on the door, Brooke leaned close to it to hear Mike's response, to try and catch any nuance of his voice like if he was confused or upset. It was going to be hard to hear from the way her pulse was thrumming in her head. Brooke needed him to leave, just for a little bit, so she could do what she had decided upon. While Mike was in the shower she'd called Claire's office and used the pretense of wanting to bake later in the afternoon and would that interfere with dinner plans to confirm Mrs. Stevenson was not going to be home until late tonight. Samantha had already texted Brooke and asked if she wanted to hang out with her and the soccer girls after camp and maybe go down to the lake to swim and goof around playing beach volleyball. The threat of sunburn gave her an easy excuse and Sammie said she would text Brooke on the way back in case their plans changed and maybe she and Brooke could go see a movie. Knowing for certain they'd be alone, truly alone, for all morning, afternoon, and much of the evening had given Brooke the courage to put her plan into motion. She just needed Mike to agree to go out for a little bit so the next part would fall into place.

"Please?" she said after a few seconds. "I'd go with you but I still need to take a bath." Teeth bit hard on her lower lip after Brooke said that; it was the truth but not exactly.
 
He had started to twist the handle and push on the door when a small voice stopped him. He was kind of surprised - hoping that, regardless of how she was dressed, or wasn't dressed, she'd be comfortable letting him in. Maybe she wasn't comfortable around him after all? Maybe she wasn't ready to go any further, or keep doing the things they'd done. He let go of the handle and stood back. "Oh, uhh, yeah, of course!" he did his best to have his voice remain cheery. It would have been weird for him to deny going grocery shopping for her - he'd done it a hundred times before.

He went downstairs and changed, earlier, he hadn't planned on going out, but now his errand required some attire that was a bit more presentable. He put on a maroon button up long sleeved shirt and some grey chinos that, as per usual, clung to his thighs and butt. He was in the car and down the street when he got a text from Brooke. His eyes scanned the grocery list containing honey, baking soda, flour, and a few junk food snacks. He imagined the latter half were things that Sammie and Brooke had discussed needing for a late night gossip session. But the first half? Was she planning on baking something? He smiled to himself - Brooke didn't cook often, but when she did, her baked goods were always a welcome treat. Since Mike did all the cooking, and wasn't the best baker, baked goods were a rarity in the Stevenson household.

He drove to the nearest Whole Foods, which was actually about 20 minutes away; he'd gotten in the habit of caring where his groceries and food came from a few years ago, so didn't mind paying a few extra dollars and driving a few extra minutes to avoid Wal Mart. He shopped at a leisurely pace -actually getting some things he needed apart from Brooke's list: chicken, beef, fresh vegetables, and some spices they'd run out of. As he shopped, he let his mind drift back to the red head at home - still mulling over the situation in his mind. She'd seemed so sweet this morning, but it wasn't like her to avoid running errands with him, especially when the alternative meant her staying home alone. He convinced himself everything was fine, deciding not to worry for the time being. He passed the fresh cut flowers section and stopped for a moment - it'd been a while since he'd bought anything from there. His last few attempts at romancing Claire had failed miserably. By the time she'd come home (hours after her promised arrival time) the candles he'd lit were melted down, the dinner he'd prepared was cold, and he was passed out on the TV. Of course she found a way to make it his fault -and ridiculed him for not staying awake. Since then, he'd avoided gestures of romance. Today though? He felt as if he needed to buy some for Brooke. To let her know that he wasn't just into her for her body and the things she'd done for him already.

He thought about getting the typical 'dozen roses' package - but those were a bit too romantic, and should Sam or Claire ask why he bought them, there's no way he'd be able to down play them into something less than what they were. If he got something else, he could at least put them in a vase and claim he just wanted some fresh flowers in the house. He settled on a simple bundle of White and Pink Lillies, hoping she'd like them. He knew a lot about Brooke, but her favorite flower wasn't one of them.

He returned home, holding several bags in tightly clenched fists and setting them down on the counter. "Brooke, I'm back." He said loudly in the house, focusing on putting the groceries up in their proper places in the fridge and pantry. Soon the groceries were put up and he'd just finished putting up the reusable bags under the sink, pulling the paper from flowers and tossing it in the trash can so that he was left just holding the green stems. Brooke hadn't come down yet, so he figured she was still in the bath. He put the flowers in a vase with water and set them on the counter in view of the bottom of the stairs, wanting Brooke to see them first thing when she came down. He went and plopped down on the couch, picking up a book from the side table that he'd almost finished and began reading while he waited.
 
Gauze curtains fluttered as Brooke moved away from the upstairs window that overlooked the street and driveway. Everything was ready so the tummy clenching feeling that hit her wasn't from worry about being prepared but anxiety about how Mike would take what Brooke intended. What had seemed like a sophisticated, sensual idea up until the moment she saw his 4 Runner now seemed childish and stupid and she almost pulled the plug. Literally. Steam had filled the bathroom from the tub of very hot water Brooke had filled it with as soon as Mike left and it hit her in the face like a wet slap. A toe test showed the water had cooled just enough to make it bearable, if still hot, and there wasn't going to be a need to add any fresh hot water. Towels and washcloths were stacked on the ledge beside the tub and a small ewer of bath oil was open, the top laying beside it, ready to be poured in. Brooke had thought about candles but it was the middle of the morning and they'd just look stupid and overdone, almost as bad as her idea of rose petals she'd have gone and stolen from the garden outside. Again her stomach clenched and she bent over to hold onto the edge of the tub, forcing herself to breathe in the humid air in shallow sips until she calmed down. Mike was already downstairs and she heard the pantry door close.

"It'll be fine. He won't think I'm stupid. It'll be better than fine, it will be amazing. Come on, Brooke, you can do this. You want to do this for him." The pep talk gave her enough confidence to step out of the bathroom, leaving the double doors open and steam spilling out from them into the master bedroom, curling onto the bed on Claire's side.

"Mike?" she called out, voice as confident as she could make it. "Can you come here, please?" Brooke rushed on bare feet to the edge of the bathroom door, feet just on the cool tile inside and her back to the door. She wore a short white robe, the hem ending high on the back of her thighs, and her hair was down and loose. When she heard the bedroom door open she turned half-on, giving Mike a good look at her figure through the thick silk of the form fitting robe, and just gazed at him with her mouth partially open. Without breaking eye contact she gathered up her hair and piled it on top of her head into a bun then clipped it into place. Still watching him, Brooke drank in his expression, taking it in and feeling it flip her heart. "Hi," she said in a quiet voice and a wisp of steam played across her face. Turning around Brooke walked to the edge of the tub then stopped, hands at her waist and looked down so that the back of her neck was drawn into relief. A tug and the belt holding her robe came undone and she shrugged, letting it fall into a silken puddle by the edge of the tub. Nude she lifted first one leg and then the other to step into the tub, never hurrying, and felt the heat of the water close around her skin like the fevered kisses she hoped to share with Mike. Brooke sank down, bottom poking out at Mike until she turned to sit in near the front of the tub, leaving a space behind her. Scented oil, vanilla and lavender, poured out of the ewer and spread across the surface of the water in a golden shimmering slick.

"I've never had a man wash my hair in the bath before. Will you be my...first?" she asked him, looking over her shoulder to where Mike stood.
 
He had just sat down on the couch when he heard the faint, yet unmistakable sound of Brooke calling him from the bathroom. Immediately his pulse quickened - the tone of her voice sweet and feminine. He got up and walked over to the bathroom door and, without speaking, turned the handle. A waft of steam and scent hit his face, blanketing him with a sudden warmth. He noted her robe with her back turned to him. He swallowed hard, stepping inside and shutting the door. His heart began to beat faster, and the heat from his skin quickly matched the temperature of the room. He barely had time to register her greeting when her robe dropped - an audible gasp left his lips. Her perfectly bare back side on display for him. His eyeslids fluttered, trying to soak in every detail of the curves of her body, but soon she was dipped down beneath the water, only the side of her breasts exposed to him and she asked him to wash her hair.

He just nodded, not saying anything at first but walking over to the tub. "Y.. yes." he said, clearing his throat before he began to unbutton his shirt. In his haste to disrobe, he fiddled with his buttons a bit more clumsily then normal, tugging his shirt off and tossing it in a maroon pile on the floor. Immediately the steam attacked his skin, causing the tan surface of his muscles to look shiny and slick. Then he worked open his belt, and his jeans, and slid them off in a pile around his ankles. His member, already stiff from the site of naked Brooke beneath him in the warm water, sprung up and wobbled in midair, the warm air a welcome feeling to the shaft that begged to be freed.

He got in the tub behind her, never breaking his gaze with her red hair and porcelain back dotted with orange. He shivered as his body seemingly melted into the perfectly tempuratured water. In order to fit in the tub, he had to spread his legs wide, his thighs rubbing against the porcelain and his shins extending on either side of Brooke. He settled his back against the slope of the tub furthest from the faucet and reached forward, gripping Brooke's shoulders to slide her towards him, till her hips were resting on the inside of his thighs. The girth of his shaft made his cock bouyant in the water, and it floated heavily in the tub, it's tip inches from her back.

He leaned forward and placed a few soft kisses on her shoulder, still feeling a bit surreal towards where he had ended up. The water made light splashing noises as he moved, and he reached up, removing the clip from her hair. One wide palm cradled the back of her neck, and the other rested on her shoulder, encouraging her to dip her hair back in the warm water to get it wet. As she leaned back, he saw her chest and stomach stretch out before him, and he had to restrain his hand from slipping from her shoulder to her chest. He knew if his fingertips touched her more sensitive areas, he'd never get to washing her hair - and truth be told, he honestly wanted to. Something so intimate and romantic would prove to both of them that this was more than just lust and passion. Why oh why did she have to be born 30 years after him? His internal lamentations stopped as he let her dip almost all the way back. He cradled her head for a moment before helping her to sit upright again.

At this point, little beads of sweat had begun forming on their skin, and he reached over to grab a bottle of shampoo from one of the small shelves on the corner of the tub, squirting a generous puddle of light pink liquid into his hands and working it into a lather. He reached forward and inserted his spread fingertips between the now damp locks of her dark red hair. His hands massaged over her scalp and on the sides of her head, bubbles formed and spilled out while he squeezed strands of her hair, working his hands up high on her head in strong, circular motions. Wet, foamy soap poured down her neck and back, and dripped down his forearms, the blonde hairs clinging to his wet skin.

He continued to work his fingertips slowly through her hair until it was more white and pink than red, the whole time gazing down the perfect feminine musculature of her back, even where her hips disappeared beneath the surface. He knew what lied beneath the water in the tub - covered in a view-obscuring oil. Something still kept secret from him, but now, unprotected by underwear. The thought was almost too much; still though, he wouldn't take it. He would wait for it to be offered. His will, while severely cracked and crumbling, was still holding on, but barely. He leaned forward again and placed a few more kisses on her shoulder, he could feel the slick lather of the soap had gotten on his mouth, but he didn't care. He continued to kiss up the side of her neck to her cheek, leaving little bubbles along the way. His hands slid down from her head to her arms, and he leaned back against the wall of the tub, gripping firmly on her upper arms and pulling her backwards to rest against his stomach. His shaft was rigid against her back, but he didn't care. He slipped one arm across her chest and the other across her stomach, squeezing her tight against him, her soapy head resting against his shoulder and cheek.

"You're perfect." He said with a contented sigh, overcome with a sense of rightness and calm for the first time since he started this conflicting journey.
 
Sweet soap bubbles popped in a quiet roar as she lay back against Mike, each tiny death releasing bits of fragrance that came together around the two of them. Every bit of tension at how Mike would receive her bold move had been removed, teased from her muscles by Mike's strong but gentle fingers and whispered out of Brooke's mind by his sigh. As his hand slid across her breasts and the other came to rest on her stomach, Brooke felt wrapped up in his love and an enormous sense of being protected, of being cherished like a woman and not lusted after like a girlfriend to a teenage boy made her heart swell. Water cascaded down her wrist as she lifted the hand on her stomach to her lips and kissed it before scooting slightly forward. The feel of Mike's cock stroking down her back as the shift freed it from between them made Brooke's lips quirk. Even in the hot water the warmth from his cock and the heft of it against her skin had been distinct.

"Let me rinse," she told him, then turned the taps on and bent under the cascade of water. Shampoo swirled in soapy snakes from her hair, slithering across her back before melting into the surface of the water. Oil from the bath and from Mike's hands remained, making the strands of Brooke's hair shine and feel slick as the girl ran her fingers through them, chasing away the last remnants of the shampoo.

A gentle whirlpool formed then broke apart as she turned and then stood up. Brooke's body, young and lithe, slippery with water and bath oils, seemed to glow from the flush of her skin, from the heat of the water, and from Mike's touches. A hint of mischief tinged with sexual anxiety made her eyes enormously wide as Brooke lifted one foot and pointed her toes down then stepped so it rested against Mike's chest. The second followed, bringing her sex almost in contact with Mike's face. Pouty lips, slickly wet from more than the bath, tightly folded against her skin, almost disappearing into them and a new aroma, that of a nubile girl deep in her arousal, swirled around both of them.

"Kiss me," Brooke directed, voice low and tremulous with worry but bold in her decision. Slender fingers gripped the side of Mike's head and drew him forward into Brooke's body and she groaned into the steam.
 
The last couple of days had been nothing but surprises from Brooke, to say the least. For someone who seemed so sweet and proper, she had shown Mike a ravenous side; yesterday, it had played out in the form of an earnest desire to please him. Today, it seemed the opposite, Brooke seemed a woman bent on driving her own experiences - seeking her own pleasure. Not that Mike minded. He had wanted to make her feel good on Sam's bed when her hand was wrapped around his member, but she had asked him not to. Since then, he had absolutely wanted to return the favor any way he could. It seemed she had chosen the way for him.

When she stood up and revealed herself to him, his mouth opened wide and his eyes descended to view her pink virgin sex. He gasped when she straddled him and brought it even closer; it was just that. Perfect. The mound dipped slightly to form a tight slit, and he could feel the heat against his face as she brought him into her. His mouth already agape and salivating. Her taste was better than he even imagined. His mouth sealed around the surface of her mound, his tongue flickering up into her lips quickly and firmly. He brought his cheeks in, sucking her flavor with a groan of ecstasy. Her skin had a slightly salty tinge to it, but was mostly sweat and like a fruit he couldn't quite place.

His hands reached up quickly to her ass, gripping each cheek with his wide palms and pressing his fingertips into her skin, making reddish depressions in her soft flesh. He used that grip to force her hips even harder down towards his face, his forearms pinning her thighs against his cheeks. He opened his mouth wide, lapping his tongue up from the bottom of her slit to the top - where her clitoris was beginning to harden.
He continued that motion, repeating the slow, firm licking motion over and over, and spreading her lips a bit wider in the process. After several minutes of undistracted oral on her teen sex, he stopped, pulling back and resting his chin on the bottom of her stomach, looking up at her with a smile. His mouth and cheeks were red and damp, and his chest was heaving along in rhythm with his increased heartbeat.

As he had been eating her out, his cock had been turgid and hard and peaking out over the surface of the water. It twitched and writhed like a leashed animal attempting in vain to pull closer to it's prey. He let out a satisfied laugh, aware of how ridiculous he may have looked, his head buried between her thighs after going at her privates with such force and unashamed passion. "How uhh.. how does that feel?" He paused to ask, returning to plant a few more soft, sweet kisses around her mound and on her slit. He licked a few drips of her sweet wetness like dew from a flower pedal.

"You taste great." He said sweetly, moving her out of the way and standing up, his member even harder than before, and touching her stomach.
 
Deep between her legs Brooke's core was aching to be filled, but for all her boldness and seeming control of the moment, she was scared to take it that far yet. It still felt wonderful though, frightening as it was, and Brooke was thrilled at how her taking the lead kept yielding wonderful moments. With Jacob she'd been passive, a good girl who put up the requisite token resistance and then let him push her even though she could have, should have, been stronger about fending him off. It would have worked, Jacob would have stopped and beyond some guilt or mad comments she would still have never been touched by him. Would Mike have liked to be her first? To know that no one else had ever been with her before? Brooke wasn't sure and wished sometimes she had waited for him but how was she supposed to know any of this was going to happen? Was Mike Claire's first? He had to have been, Brooke decided, because Claire was too stuck up, too rigid, to have let anyone be with her before Mike. Before their wedding probably. There hadn't been a hint of sexiness in anything she owned either clothing or accessories, in the way she didn't look at Mike like Brooke did. Ever since the disappointment with Jacob, Brooke had been trying to figure out how she felt about sex. A lot of books had been devoured, and more websites, along with Cosmo and Glamour and Allure and all the others. 25 Things You do that Guys Secretly Love and 6 Things that Freak Them Out. Why was it always numbers? What Guys Crave After Sex. Cuddling wasn't one of them but Mike was different. It was all so confusing but some things Brooke taken away seemed to work with Mike. Be bold. Make the first move. Keep him wanting more. Don't be afraid of your own body. That one seemed relevant right now, and it wouldn't be the first time Brooke had tasted herself, just the first time on someone else's lips.

"Let me taste," she told him and pressed close to Mike, trapping his cock between them and feeling it hard and hot on her skin and dragging along it when she put her arms around his neck and pulled herself up onto tiptoes. There was no hesitation, no hint of ickiness as Brooke met Mike's lips with an open mouth, tongue eagerly seeking to lick herself from his lips. The taste was her own, occasionally explored off her fingers, but so much different when taken from the lips of a man who'd kissed her so intimately. A groan of pure pleasure vibrated Brooke's mouth and her tongue slipped back inside to bring her juices back into her body. A moment later it burrowed past Mike's lips and taste the ocean of her sex inside his mouth, mixed with Mike's own taste and a hint of bath oil that was almost irritatingly cloying. Again and again she kissed, taking all of her back from Mike and feeling her core clench tightly with each swallow. Only when her toes hurt and her taste in Mike's mouth was only a hint of scent did Brooke break the kiss and slide her hands onto his shoulders. "I liked that," the words were sincere, not shy at all, just like the gaze between them. "I like doing things with you that I can't with a boy. That boys don't know how to do, or want to. That only men are capable of, Mike." Brooke laid her head on his bare, wet chest and hugged him possessively. His cock twitched, reminding Brooke that he'd been very patient and good to her and that it needed attention.

"Come on," she said and turned, hip and ass brushing against Mike's cock before her left hand gripped it firmly. It had to be firm because the bath made it slippery and the shaft slid between her fingers until the teen adjusted her grip. Using it to guide Mike, to tug him along, Brooke walked both of them into the bedroom. At Claire's side of the bed, Brooke took a pillow from under the duvet and pushed Mike back a little bit with her fingers in his stomach. "Back up," Brooke giggled then put the pillow flat on the floor. With her eyes locked on Mike she knelt, the pillow making it more comfortable for her knees, and Brooke settled back onto her heels until Mike's stunning cock was at mouth level. "Does Claire ever do this for you, Mike?"
 
Mike was a bit surprised at how eagerly her mouth grabbed at his when he'd just been down between her thighs. Claire would have never in a million years done that; then again, she'd only let him go down on her a handful of times in their entire marriage. It suddenly hit him that even though he'd had a lifetime of experience in these things more than Brooke, he was actually having some of the most exciting sexual experiences of his life for the first time. With her. He smiled into her kiss as his mind processed the concept. Him, a married man of a couple decades, exploring new and liberating things together; the last bit of the picture of Brooke as a little girl were wiped from his mind. They were on even ground now; pushing each other to new limits and delving into the deepest parts of their romantic and lustful sides - previously untouched.

He loved how unashamed she was to taste herself on his mouth, and it only made him want to give it to her more. His mouth was welcoming and his tongue was needy for hers. He kissed the top of her head when she confessed that she liked doing things with him that she coun't with a boy, and he smiled. Although that smile was cut short, and he immediately dropped his jaw when she reached down unexpectedly grabbing his turgid shaft. "OH shi..." He let out an almost expletive when she tugged on it, leading him from one room to the other like a dog on a leash. He chuckled at her earnestness. Though when she dropped to her knees and looked up at him, he felt a shiver go down his spine and spread over his skin, still cooling from the steam of the bath.

The sensual picture of the young redhead, down on her knees and gazing up at him with those doe eyes caused his body to react in different ways. His mouth salivated, forcing him to lick his lips to keep from drooling. His penis twitched even more in agitated impatience. His firm, toned buttocks clenched in anticipation. He could only shake his head when Brooke asked if Claire ever did it for him. He reached down, cradling her face in his hand one more time, his thumb and forefingers holding her chin lightly in place. His eyes softened, as if to let her know what a big deal this was for her. That thought wasn't lost on him; Although, he'd stopped thinking of her as a little child back in that bathroom, and now, this was a woman in his eyes - taking what she wanted when she wanted it. And he wanted to give it to her.

He leaned over at the waist , one hand slipping into her red hair while the other continued to hold her face firmly. He kissed her deeply again. His mouth thanking her for what she'd done, and what she was about to do. He stood back up again, but didn't remove his fingers, firmly intertwined in her red, damp locks with a firm, not forceful, grip. He pressed his hips forward, shaft trembling, and watched as her open mouth accepted his tip. He knew his thickness would be a lot for her to handle, and didn't want to make her first time unenjoyable, so he slowly pressed his veiny shaft past her lips until he felt a few inches of it on her tongue.

His whole body clenched, his fingers gripping tighter on her hair for a moment before loosening as he got used to the feel of her warm, wet mouth around him. "Oh my god, Brooke.." he looked down, never breaking eye contact except for those few moments where ecstasy forced his eyes to flutter shut. He pushed in just a bit more before pulling back, encouraging her to get a slow sensual rhythm. The few inches of his flesh that had been in her mouth before retreated, only leaving his cut tip between her lips. There was a new dampness on them now; from her saliva and tongue. He continued to move in a slow, methodical motion, keeping the depth at which he pressed in at a modest 3 to 4 inches at a time, his heavy balls dangling and swinging slightly with each wave of his hips.

"You know it uhh.." He swallowed hard. "Feels really good if you use your hands at the.. the same time." He bit his lip, wondering how she would feel about being given and taking instruction. After all, he knew she was a novice at this, but the eagerness with which she'd offered showed that she wasn't shy about tackling new things with him.
 
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