Simple Song Pt. 02

*****

On Saturday, with the week about to end, her concern had reached a peak. She could feel his eyes on her from time to time, but he had not done anything overt to express his interest like he had before she left.

Her head was buzzing. After all, it wasn't a surprise that he didn't want her anymore. She had hurt him and then when he found her she had already ruined her looks. Her eyes were drawn to her fingers where the 'HOLD FAST' tattoo could be seen. Tears began to spring up. Of course he didn't want her anymore.

Hesitantly, Wippy walked into the living room where he was sitting on the couch reading. He glanced up at her as she came into the room before his attention went back to the book. She was in her most daring outfit yet, wearing only her panties under one of his wifebeater tank tops. She wasn't even worth his attention dressed like this!

"I'm sorry you don't find me attractive anymore, John." Her voice was a whisper.

"What?"

"I know you told me that you still care for me, but you hardly looked at me just now. I know that you preferred me before I ruined my looks."

"Is that what you think?"

"Of course..." She gave a little sob, although she had promised herself before that she wouldn't. Her hands came up to her face. Then he was grabbing her hand pulling her back onto him, almost roughly. She found herself sitting on his lap, with her back to him.

After a moment of struggling, she realized that something was poking into her from below. There was a sharp intake of breath.

"Is that..."

"Yeah, that is my John Paul Jones, and he has been saluting you all week."

"But why haven't you... you know... done something about it... or asked me?"

He leaned his mouth up by her ear.

"Because I am not an animal. I don't take advantage of people who are in pain." His voice was breathy as he struggled to handle the effects of her movement over his erection.

If he could have seen her smile, he would have been awe of the pure happiness visible. It was followed quickly by an expression of pain and grief, which itself was rapidly succeeded by a look of determination.

She lept up and turned to face him, her green eyes locking on his hazel ones. "I have something to tell you. Come upstairs."

Grasping his hand, Wippy pulled him up and led him up the stairs into his room. Turning him around, she pushed him insistently on to his bed. His bed where she felt so warm and safe. His bed where she felt at peace.

Indicating that he should sit with his back to the wall, she crawled in between his legs and sat leaning into him, with her back against his chest. John wrapped his arms around her without being asked. She sat staring forward, if she had to look into his face while she told him this Wippy did not think she would be able to, even here on his bed. His bed where she felt so safe.

"Jack," She could actually feel his chest expand as she called him that, "I need to tell you some things."

Stopping often to breathe in between the words and the tears, or to form words to explain herself, Wippy began to haltingly tell him about the last six months. She started with her confused reaction, which she still didn't understand, when he had told her she was perfect. She tried to describe the terror and feelings of inadequacy, followed by inexplicable anger at him. Then she described running away from home, trying to find jobs at restaurants as she ran out of money. Wippy told him about the weekly apartment that she had rented and then lost before she found herself broke and hopeless.

"So I did the only thing that I could think of. I couldn't come back here because you, and my Mom, would be so mad at me. I... I got a job at a strip club. I had to do things to get the job that..."

She expected him to push her away in disgust or to express his disapproval. All she could feel was that he had tightened his arms around her.

"I wasn't very good at it. That's why you found me in some rundown motel. It wasn't because of drugs, I just couldn't stand to give lap dances so I avoided it as much as possible. Oh, and my tits are tiny..."

It was a whisper in her ear again, "They're perfect."

"Some of the girls had tattoos, so I thought about getting one. I ended up selecting this one." She pointed to the "Last Love" on her right wrist.

"I thought it would make me feel more honest, to prove forever that I wasn't the flawless girl that you seemed to think I was. And it hurt. But that was good, it felt like it was a punishment for what I did to you... for what I did to myself.

"I liked the pain, so I kept getting them.

"All I ever did was fantasize about you coming to find me. But that was also the thing that terrified me the most.

"I hated working at the club. That's why I cut my hair, I didn't want them watching me anymore. I thought it would make them stop."

Neither of them spoke for a while. Finally, he filled the silence.

"This summer... this summer was the worst time of my life. I knew that you were hurting somewhere, and I couldn't be there for you.

"I lost my mind for a while there."

He continued, "Don't do that to me again. Stay with me... you can... I mean... look, you feel whatever you need to feel. Say what you need to say. Just don't run from me again."

Another long pause.

"So what happens next?"

"We clean my room again."

"You mean that I clean your room again?" She had a smile while she said that.

"I seem to recall you volunteering.... against my preferences."

He continued, "And if God wanted me to clean my room, smartypants, I would have been born with a vacuum cleaner attachment."

She wiggled back into him. "Knowing you guys, I doubt it would ever be used for cleaning..." She couldn't help but giggle as she said it.

"That's hurtful! It's completely fair, but it's hurtful."

"So what actually happens next?"

"You stay with me and warm my bed. We get ready for school to start again. I, personally, would like to stick to a three-semester senior year."

"What about your parents? Oh, and I hadn't thought about school! Will they even accept me back?"

"First, I've already talked to my parents. They sort of understand what's going on. I was told: 'Just don't go rubbing all of the sex in our faces', so yeah..."

"Wait, you mean we could have been having all of that sex? I knew something was missing!"

"Damn! You're right, miss piggy..."

That earned him an elbow.

John continued, "As for school, I did something that I would term as... ummm... moral but unethical?

"My uncle is a doctor. I sort of... you know... bugged him until he wrote a letter. He admitted that there was no doubt that you had some kind of breakdown, his only concern was that he couldn't see you himself."

"Wait, so I didn't fail last semester?"

"Not even a little. Your record should be clear, with just a medical leave of absence.

"We should still take you by my uncle so that he can see you in person. I just need you to do me a favor."

"What?"

His voice was lowered. "Well, really sell the psychological stuff. You know... like, drool a lot. And maybe limp... oh, and only speak in the third person."

Wippy twisted around to look him in the face. Of course, he had that goofy smile on. That earned him another elbow.

"But seriously, after the last few months that you've had, seeing my uncle would probably be good."

"OK. One last question."

"Yes, I named it John Paul Jones."

She laughed. "No... What am I going to do about clothes?

"But also, seriously, John Paul Jones?"

"Why not John Paul Jones? For most patriots, it's their chief aim in life to have people name genitals after them. That's what you call a real legacy.

"And as for clothes, my sister will be back soon. She won't be around for long, but I think you can borrow some for her until we get you your own."

"How am I going to afford that?"

"Your sugar daddy."

An awkward pause followed.

"It's me! Wait, do you have another sugar daddy? What's his name? I bet it's Glenn. Douchebags are nearly always named Glenn... or Seth...

"But seriously, I've got some money from my jobs. Right now I couldn't think of anything better to spend it on than you. This might go straight to your head, but you are a better investment than pinball machine, which was the other thing I was considering."

"You sure know how to make a girl feel special."

Chapter 18 - Days Come and Go

John's sister actually arrived the next day, a few hours before his parents came back. That was a relief to Wippy, she would be able to be decently clothed when she saw them again.

His sister, Susan (but Susie to her friends), was a revelation. She was a little shorter than Wippy, and a little curvier, and she was intense. Wippy would eventually realize that she was probably what John would be like if he didn't have ADD. Susan was actually a little frightening.

The first that Wippy was aware that Susan was in the house, was late in the morning, when she woke up. Wippy came downstairs to find John and his sister having a quiet conversation by the table.

Susan immediately walked up to Wippy and gave her a long hug. When it was over, Susan leaned back and looked her in the eyes. Susan's eyes looked frighteningly like John's.

"You're going to be alright. I can tell that you're tougher than you give yourself credit for."

Wippy started to speak, uncertain what she was going to say.

"And yes, you can borrow my clothes. I need to leave in a couple of days, but we'll find a few outfits for you."

Before Wippy could respond, Susan was already out the door to bring in her bags.

*****

The change in clothing highlighted Wippy's recent changes for John. She already appeared to have put on some weight and the bags were gone from under her eyes. Even so, she wasn't still wasn't smiling as often as he would like.

The outfits did look a little odd on Wippy, they were a little short and a little baggy for her. Even so, her relief at having real clothes again was obvious. For his part, John kept imagining her in one of his shirts and a pair of rolled up briefs. He would miss her like that.

Susan quickly commented that Wippy's hair would look very good in a pixie cut before long. It was apparent that she had adopted Wippy as a little sister.

*****

After that, the next few weeks passed fairly uneventfully. Wippy continued to recuperate as the school year approached. John's parents were warm with her, but they kept their distance as if afraid of hurting her.

The only thing of note to happen to Wippy during that time was the conversation she overheard between John and Susan, as she lay on his bedroom floor.

They were in Susan's room, but the door wasn't fully closed. She heard Susan express her concern.

"John, she's a wonderful girl and she's better than you deserve but I'm concerned."

"Why's that?" He sounded defensive. Wippy could feel herself clinch up a little. She evidently felt the same thing that he did.

"I see the potential for a lot of codependency here. You've got to be really careful."

"Oh, is that all?"

"This is serious."

"Let me tell you something, Susie. We've both proven that we're royal fuck-ups on our own. She's a self-loathing overachiever," (Wippy couldn't be mad, that was actually fair.) "And I'm even worse. I'm just an anti-social drifter.

"If we're better together, than I say bring on the codependency!"

"John..."

"I've heard enough."

Wippy didn't know what to think.

Chapter 19 - Awake My Body

The week before school started, the two of them were eating breakfast, when he suddenly blurted it out.

"We need to buy you some clothes."

She was caught off guard and just looked at him.

"You can't wear my sister's clothes forever. Don't you... umm... want new ones? New clothes or outfits or whatever?"

Wippy responded slowly, "Of course, but I don't have the money to buy anything."

He gave a grin at that, as if to ask if that was the only problem. "Oh, I'll pay of course."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't, and well I have a... you see... umm... I have this fantasy."

He could see the apprehension in her eyes, this was the first that either of them had spoken about fantasies, or presumably, sexual preferences. The look just made him more nervous.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it."

She was calming down. Wippy really did want to know about his fantasies. She gave him her best supportive look.

"Please tell me."

"Well... I have this fantasy where I help you pick out your clothes and maybe some of the time... I help you put them on... or take them off?" His grin was back, albeit a shy one.

She exhaled a little, then looked back at him. Her eyes were gentle as she held his gaze.

"That would be nice."

*****

In the first store, Wippy walked out of the dressing room apprehensively. Although her stomach was twisting in knots, she knew that John wanted this. He had apparently even fantasized about it!

Coming to a stop in front of where he was sitting, she nervously stood there, waiting for his response. She was wearing a tight pair of jeans (of the "she was poured into them" variety) that she had picked along with a green and white fitted polo that he had picked out. It just grazed the top of her jeans, so that when she stretched, bent over, or otherwise moved, a little skin would show.

She didn't understand the look he gave her, which frightened her even more. It was surprisingly intense. After looking her over for what felt like an hour, but was probably only 10 seconds, John got up and walked slowly up to Wippy. Still waiting for his response, she was frozen like a deer in headlights. He reached behind her neck with his hand... and tore the tag off of the shirt. Doing the same with the tag on the jeans, he grabbed her and gave her a momentary but intense kiss.

Immediately after that, John turned around and walked quickly to the front of the store. Wippy followed him, still unsure of what was happening. He strode up to the counter, slapped the tags down and emphatically said, "I would like to pay for these. She will be wearing the clothes out."

He turned to her with a huge grin, which she couldn't help but return. She wouldn't have wanted to help it anyways.

After that, the day began to acquire a pleasant rhythm for her. Wippy would select clothes to try while they talked about anything and everything. Women's fashion, history, sports, and movies, their conversations covered a wide gambit. On a few occasions, John would pick an article of clothing for her to try.

She would try the outfits on while he waited and then she would emerge for him to give input. The nervousness and fear that she felt as she emerged for him to look at her slowly became anticipation. When he gazed at her, she felt tingles going down her spine. She did not fully realize it, but the anticipation she felt building was the result of a newly budding trust.

John would always respond to the outfit in one of two ways. Most of the time he would give a glowing, but pointed compliment, the tone of which depended on whether they had an audience at that moment ("That makes your eyes pop, sweetie, I think you would look great in it with a long skirt." with an audience versus "Those shorts make your legs look perfectly sinful, sugar tits." without). If he didn't seem to like what she was trying, and she had feared how he would respond then and whether he would lie to her, John would tell her so. He made her feel like the clothes he didn't like simply weren't worthy of her, that they hid too much of her beauty when all he wanted to do was to accentuate it. Needless to say, she was beginning to feel desirable in a way that she never had before.

She learned a few things about his tastes. He preferred form fitting items to items that could be described as high cut or low cut. He loved to see her in green, the closer to the color of her eyes the better. Not surprisingly, his tastes ran towards the Bohemian and he seemed to favor odd combinations and vintage or worn styles.

Wippy also learned that he did not seem to care at all about shoes. While they shoe shopped he appeared bored and only really focused when she engaged him in conversation. The one fact she did glean was that he wasn't fond of high heels but liked seeing her in ballet flats.

She bought four pairs of them.

Towards the end of the day, they were both beginning to feel the effects of the day. In less busy stores, he began sneaking into the fitting room with her. They stayed quiet, to try to avoid being caught, so he would limit himself to stroking her skin and whispering to her. Most of the time she couldn't even make out the words he was saying, they were so softly spoken, but it still made her shiver. She felt like she had been drinking wine all afternoon.

In one of the last stores, Wippy took advantage of a moment when they were totally alone as she modeled an outfit for him, to lean down and put her mouth by his ear. In a low whisper she told him, "Jack, when you look at me like that, it makes me wet." She was not lying.

John had no response.

*****

Finally at the end of the day, just after dinner time, Wippy acted on an impulse that she had been fighting for a while and dragged him into a lingerie store. It was hard not to giggle when she saw how uncomfortable he looked. She pushed him into a back corner of the store, where she hoped he would be more at ease. More importantly, the location made it impossible for him to escape. Wippy began to quiz him on his preferences in lingerie.

She didn't even let him off the hook after he made her laugh out loud. He told her that he had no preferences in lingerie because he only had the one set and it chafed him when he had to wear it.

The quizzing took close to an hour once she learned that she need to make excursions to pick out examples of styles and fabrics. Then she would describe them and force him to look at the photos on the tags to understand how they fit. She learned that he liked her in boy shorts, the more cheek showing, the better. His tastes ran to cotton with simpler patterns and cuts.

She smiled at him as widely as she could while they had the conversation. She wanted to encourage him. She was not aware of this, but her smile had as profound an impact on him as his whispering had on her. Upper brain functions started to slow, a condition that is always dangerous, so when she asked him about bras he made the mistake.

"Your breasts are perfect, honey buns, and I don't actually like padded bras even though you might need one..."

He froze. The tone of her next question did not help make him more at ease.

"John, why do I need a padded bra?

Silence.

"John, why did you say that I need a padded bra?"

It was too late now, he owed her the truth... if he could force it out.

"Well you see... umm... okay, so you have such perfect nipples, but..."

That was far as he got, before her hands went up to cover her breasts. She was horrified and blushing deeply.

John put his arms around her and pulled her closer.

"It's sexy. It's only noticeable when I have been staring at you, or when we've been talking."

He gripped her tighter and gave a little chuckle.

"Actually... it's very flattering, little miss headlights. The only reason I mentioned the padded bra was because I didn't want to share you with anyone else...

"Well, there was one other reason. When you smile at me, I get dizzy. I should not be held accountable for any stupid shit I do or say when your dimples are visible."

She relaxed in his arms before stepping away from him to tell him to wait outside the store. He could see the tears in her eyes and didn't know what to do.

"Wippy, I'm so sorry. I'm a..."

"Jack, these are good tears. Now go wait outside. I can't spoil all the surprises.