The Lakehouse Ch. 02

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Coaxing her out of her shell.
4.8k words
4.68
19.3k
3

Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/30/2022
Created 05/23/2013
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Wednesday

I was gently rising to the surface of consciousness when my watch alarm grabbed me by the scruff and yanked me upwards into the morning. Dragging on my cutoffs and an old t-shirt, I staggered out of my room. Half an hour later, I was sipping coffee in the kitchen, waiting for the frying pan to heat up. It was my turn in the meal cooking rotation, and I hoped my partner would show up before anyone else stirred; I figured we had things to talk about.

And here she came. Becca tiptoed in and made for the fridge. I heard a stilted "Good morning" from behind the magnet-bedecked door as she grabbed the carton of eggs and peppers. She then began slicing the vegetables with more concentration than necessary.

"Rebecca," I said softly.

"Hmm?" she replied vaguely, still not looking up.

I stepped over to her, speaking low. "Folks will be up any time now, so the sooner we talk, the better."

The knife ceased its chopping. She took a breath.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I can't imagine what you must think --" She stopped mid-sentence as I put my hand over hers.

"I think... you did something very nice for me. I'm not sure why it happened, yet, but I don't think any less of you." I felt a slight tremor in her arm as I continued. "It...took care of things that really needed taking care of. But then you left. I couldn't help you back, we couldn't relax and talk, so I'm a little confused."

"I can't answer you. I mean, I don't really know why. I just thought...I don't know. I never did something like that before." Even though her head was down, I could see her face go read through the curtain of her brown hair. I wondered what she meant exactly. I knew she wasn't a virgin, but surely she'd touched a guy before. Before I could say anything else, I heard someone coming up the stairs. Time was up.

"Don't worry about it right now. Just enjoy the day." I kissed the side of her head and went back to the stove to start on the bacon.

Wednesday Afternoon

The day went much the same way as before, except for the early afternoon thundershower which kept everyone indoors or on the covered patio. A few folks played boardgames, then wandered off to read or listen to music. The lovebirds were cloistered away, but even they came out now and then for some social time. And everyone, at some point, found themselves with one or two friends in light or heavy conversation. I was reading a novel on a lounge chair after lunch, feeling sluggish, when I glanced up and saw Rebecca leaning on the railing, looking at the rain-gray lake. I glanced around. Most everyone was inside, all out of earshot.

"Hey," I said, " why don't you take a load off?"

With studied nonchalance (or so I guessed) she drifted over and, ignoring the scattered chairs, stretched out on the picnic table. We talked for a while about school-- a safe enough subject. I was dying to know what was going on in her mind. As the conversation lulled, I saw her gathering herself to get up; if she had meant to say something, clearly, her nerve failed her. I needed to act, so without thinking it through, I opened my mouth and some words popped out.

"I don't know what you want to do," I began, and saw her freeze, tensed. "But my door to the deck won't be locked tonight. Anyone who wants to can walk right in." She hesitated, not looking at me, and then quickly stood up and walked into the house.

Wednesday Evening

Gina's stirfry was delicious as usual, and the easy banter among my dearest friends was quite up to expectation, but I couldn't completely relax that small knot of tension in my stomach. I was sure I could have come up with something more subtle, more low key, more politic. I had meant to say, "Come up and talk. Come up and hang out." Okay, that's what my mind would have set. But I was still a guy, and as a guy, even the most altruistic intent would come out sounding like, " I liked the hand-job, babe; come up tonight and do me again." I wondered if that ass Spence sounded like that.

But chewing on my shy friend's behavior would have wasted the evening. A glass of wine (yes, we were snobs) and an after-dinner exchange of shoulder rubs with Kristin mellowed me out enough to enjoy the gathering.

The evening light faded, and everyone mellowed. The lovebirds retired to their nest, and I took that opportunity to excuse myself as well. Amid cries of "Wimp!" and "Old Fart!" I defended myself: "Next time I pull breakfast duty, I'll wake all a' you, and see how late you want to stay up." As I made my way out, I cast a sidelong glance at Rebecca. Her eyes were fixed elsewhere.

A few minutes later, I crawled under the covers, feeling the sheet slide across my bare skin. The hall door was locked; the porch door was cracked open. The room was dark except for the dim, warm light of a candle on the nightstand. With a mix of anticipation and anxiety, I waited. It was entirely possible that I'd blown it. I'd proved men, even friends, are schmucks, and sex could make an easy friendship awkward.

Half an hour crawled by. The occasional laughter and other sounds of habitation were less frequent as people headed off to bed. I myself felt drowsy, and was reaching for the candle when a shadow fell across the moonlit curtain. A figure awash in silver light slipped in and quickly shut the door. I heard the click of the latch.

The candle painted increasingly detailed features across the silhouette as she crept towards the bed. She wore a nightshirt -- dark oversized T, really -- riding a little less than halfway down her thigh. I looked into her eyes, and she looked back, silent. Nervously, she wrapped her arms around herself and looked down self-consciously. I shifted to the middle of the bed, and patted the vacated spot. She sat. Her legs and feet were enticingly bare.

"I didn't know if you were coming." I hoped my tone made it clear I was glad.

Her words came out in a rush. "People were still up and I didn't want to --" she stopped, and in a slower, softer tone, finished, "I didn't know either. I don't know why I'm here. Why am I here?"

"Do you want me to guess?"

"Sure," she replied after a moment's hesitation.

"It could be because you're curious. Because you want to explore. Because you long to be explored." Even in the dim light, I thought I saw a blush. "Because most of your friends have been with someone else, enjoyed it, and come away better for it, and that didn't happen for you." She looked away. I put my hand on her leg, and her eyes traveled back to me. "Because you know me, I'm your friend, and you know I wouldn't hurt you and you trust me. Because you're lonely and you know you're safe with me." I waited. "Am I in the ballpark?"

She let out a breath I didn't notice she'd been holding. "Yes. To pretty much all of it."

I smiled. "Thank you. Thank you for telling me." I squeezed her thigh lightly. "Now, sweet Becca, what would you like to happen?"

"I'd like to look at you," she answered with a shy smile.

Smiling back, I folded my hands behind my head. Taking the cue, she reached over and lifted the covers off my body. She drank in the sight of my bare body. Being more into the outdoors than into beer, I was slimmer than many of my classmates. She may have appreciated the fact, but after a couple of sweeps up and down my form her eyes focused at the junction of my legs, where my penis rose half-hard from its dark nest of fur. She giggled as it flopped to the side and then eased round, swelling slowly.

Not taking her eyes off the slow-dancing organ, she started to ask, "Would you like me to...?"

"Rebecca, there's something I would very much like you to do. And considering you're getting to see everything here, I don't think it's unfair to ask..."

She looked at me. "I guess it's only fair. Just, don't --" She couldn't finish that thought. Instead, she half stood, crossed her arms, and grasped the hem of her nightshirt. She lifted, exposing her dark panties, but paused at her waist as if some thought compelled her to stop.

"Please. It's okay, sweetie," I coaxed.

She raised the hem up and over her head. Dropping the shirt on the floor, she reflexively went to cover herself from my view, but with an effort she lowered her arms to her sides. Rebecca watched my face carefully.

She wasn't a voluptuous woman. She was trim, with brown hair spilling over her shoulders to just where her chest began to swell. Her breasts were a handful, just right on her petite frame. Against my will I imagined how easy it would be to carry her with her legs wrapped around me...

Her eyes had left mine again. I was viewing her body, and imagining the possibilities; my own body responded, and 'Becca watched as my cock straightened and swelled.

"Don't you ever doubt that you're sexy," I told her. "My reaction is all the proof you'll need."

She gazed at that rigid proof most intently. Finally, she asked if I would like her to touch it. I suspected even she wasn't sure which one of us was looking forward to that contact more.

"I'd like that very much," I said.

She scooted around until, she sat cross-legged, her knees pressed against me. Her right hand went to my chest, then slid down my abs until it hit the base of my cock. I sighed as I watched her hand moved lightly up the bottom of the shaft, over the head, and back down the top. Her other hand, resting on my thigh, began to acquaint itself with my sac, hefting the balls and rolling them between her fingers. She was truly exploring, learning the feel and texture of my skin. In a way it was more sensually analytical than sexual, but watching her discovery of my body was deeply erotic. I was probably the first man she had ever had the chance to do this with; Spence certainly didn't give her time to explore before he wanted her to start pulling on it.

I was enjoying her ministrations, and certainly I was happy for her sake, but my throbbing member was insisting we get with the program. Maybe she sensed this, because she began gently stroking with her right hand, while gently caressing the tender skin below with her left.

"Is this all right? What do you like?"

"Just do what you like for now. Soon, I'll give some direction." She heard the tension in my voice.

"You okay?"

"It's very good. You're very good. In a minute, I'll want more." I would have loved to have her touch me for an hour, but nature doesn't like to wait. And when the urges grew insistent, I guided her, telling her how best to bring me to climax. The way her breasts swayed as she worked certainly helped. Very soon, my breath grew ragged.

"Are you about to --" she whispered.

"Yes!" I grunted through gritted teeth, trying to hold back so the pressure would build for a greater release.

Then she did something unexpected. Most girls would stroke the whole length, faster than ever, jerking on my cock until I came. But Rebecca grasped more tightly just below the head, and moving her hand with very fast, very short strokes --her hand was almost vibrating. Her other hand gently squeezed and rolled my balls at a slightly slower rhythm. The effect was intense; the buildup slowed very slightly, but it became easier for me to hold it back. The pressure rose like a wave, grew sharp until the line between pleasure and pain disappeared. Then the wave crested and broke, and the world felt indistinct save for the throbbing in my loins. My back hit the bed, and I blew out the breath I'd been holding. At least, I think I did.

There was a sound above my heart beating presto in my ears. "-kay? Nathan? Are you okay?" I nodded, weakly, gasping for air. I lay there, with my eyes still closed, feeling clenched muscles loosen and relax one by one. When my breathing had slowed enough to talk, I opened my eyes and saw the mix of concern and awe on Rebecca's face.

"Did I hurt you?" she whispered anxiously.

"No. Not exactly. I guess it does look painful," I added, grinning.

"You...looked like you were getting ready, and then you scrunched up your face like you were in pain. Then you arched your back and opened real wide like you were screaming, but you hardly made any sound. Then you finished and collapsed. I thought you'd had a seizure or something."

To be truthful, it was a little difficult to follow any train of thought, but I struggled to concentrate through the mindfog of the afterglow.

"I gotta tell you, I don't think I've ever, EVER cum that hard before. Where did you learn to do that? HOW you do that?" She was blushing again -- or still -- and my compliment seemed to help her loosen up.

"I've never given done that to a guy before. I mean, I've touched guys there, but never made them, uh, shoot off. " She giggled. "I saw you were close, and I imagined what it would be like if your, ah, parts were like mine. So I imagined if mine was as big as yours, what I would do with it when I --" she realized what she was admitting to, and blushed a deeper shade.

"I'm naked, you're half naked, and you've just been touching my dick until I saw stars. I think we can talk about masturbation without embarrassment, don't you?" I smiled, reached out and caressed her cheek before enfolding her hand in mine. It was a little sticky. Feeling with my other hand, I found a line of semen from my abdomen to my chin. It made me chuckle. She joined me, then reached for the tissues and carefully cleaned me off while she talked.

"Sometimes, when I'm right on the brink, I make these tiny, fast movements. You know, with my fingertips, so I'm hardly moving. But it makes the sensation..."

"...exquisite?"

"That's a good word. I think exquisite just went into the 'sounds dirty to say' file. Like 'pleasure.' 'pleasssure.' Just sounds naughty, don't you think? Like just saying it is a sin."

"I think," I said, "now that I've been pleasured half to death, I would very much like to pleasure you."

She didn't react immediately. In fact, I think I heard her mind grind to a halt under so many conflicting thoughts. I continued.

"Please, let me. I won't lie, I'll enjoy learning about your body and what you like, but it's about you and what makes you feel good. How about this: I'll stick to hands and lips for now. That's all I'll need, and you won't feel pressured to take that final step. I promise, Rebecca."

Her resistance crumbled; I saw it on her face, doubt replaced by hunger. I drew her to me and shared a soft, lingering kiss. Pulling back to gauge her reaction, I saw her eyes flutter open, her breathing faster. I placed my hand on her cheek and we kissed again, this time with intensity. I could feel her responding as I moved my hand to her shoulder, and then slowly, slowly down to cup her breast. She moaned into my mouth. I gently lowered her, kissing until her head touched the pillow, and pulled back. She lay still, breathing heavily, before opening her eyes to see what I would do next. Going down on one elbow, I softly kissed one breast in a spiral from the beginning of its swell to the edge of her pink areola. Hovering over her erect nipple, I flicked my tongue across its point, eliciting a full-body shudder and a gasp. I repeated the action, which grew less startling but more arousing to 'Becca. Then, I pulled her nipple into my mouth and thrashed it with my tongue, making her moan, making her legs push spasmodically against the covers. When her reactions plateaued again, I cupped her other breast and teased the nipple with my thumb. That sparked another shudder and a louder moan; it was as if I had just closed a circuit that was now surging sexual energy through her body.

Rebecca's labored breathing filled the silence, punctuated by whimpers of need and pleasure. Her hips began to swivel upwards, uncontrollably. I knew she was close. I slide my hand down her belly, but just as my fingers reached the top of her panties, she grabbed my arm. Startled, I lifted my head, breaking my liplock on her lovely breast. She was still gasping for air, her forehead glistening with sweat, her eyes shut tight.

"I'm not... I'm. Sorry. Not down. There."
I was aroused, for sure, but if I'd been as turned on as Rebecca was at that moment, I don't think I could keep from bringing myself off right then and there. And here she was, stopping me from bringing her release.

"You don't want me touching you there? Why not?"

"I'm just..just not ready yet. Please understand, Nathan." Her breath came easier now. "God knows I never expected things...to go this far. But I'm not ready for a boy to touch me there. Even you."

"Okay," I said gently, although my blood was up and I didn't know how she could think straight at that moment. "But you're wound up pretty tight."

"It's okay, I'll take care of it later." The edge in her voice told me her libido wasn't happy with the delay in gratification.

"I promise you, no hands down there." I would have laughed as I said it, but the desperate need in her eyes said she wouldn't see the humor. "But let me help," I murmured. " Use me. Please. Here, straddle my thigh." She hesitated, trying to work out what to do through the fog of lust. I eased her around until she was laying against me, hot and trembling. "Sweetie, you're burning up!" I put my hand on her sweat-dampened hair and kissed her again. Her leg swung over and she was laying above me.

"That's it," I murmured. "Now, just let your body tell you what to do." I ran my hands up and down her back, and then her flanks. Then they drifted down to brush against the sides of her breasts, which were pressing against my chest. Rebecca whimpered. Her legs clamped around my thigh, and her hips began grinding against me. Wordlessly, she lifted her torso so I could access her breasts. I did so gladly!

Suddenly, she groaned in frustration and hopped up. Skinning off her panties, she resumed her position. I could feel her sex pressed against my leg, hot and wet. She writhed against me, utterly lost in her need. I knew she was so very close. I reached down one hand and grasped her bare ass, feeling the muscle clench underneath her pale, smooth skin, and marveled at how firm and taut her daily bike rides made it. With my other hand, I resumed cupping her breast, but this time I pinched the nipple.

Rebecca's legs clamped even harder against me; her nails dug into my sides. Her eyes flew open, ecstasy laced with panic; I could hear a cry rising in her throat. With my hand against the back of her head, I opened my mouth against hers, and felt her muffled wail vibrate into my throat.

Her body gripped mine spasmodically, but after long moments the cry died away and she sank, quivering, against me. I wrapped my arms protectively around her, listening to her sucking in lungfuls of air. Apart from the occasional tremor of orgasmic aftershocks, she was as limp as the blanket now draping off one side of the bed.

The jackhammer beat of her heart slowed; only when it had reached a sedate resting rate did she move.

"I'm getting heavy," she murmured, eyes still shut.

"You're getting sleepy, you mean. You're not heavy."

She frowned in concentration, then reached down to find what was poking against her waist.

"You're hard," she said, a mixture of surprise and humor.

"I just had a lovely naked girl writhing and straining against me," I replied with amusement." I'd have to be dead to not be turned on."

"Do you need me to...?"

"Maybe in a bit. Right now, let's rest. I want to look at you."

'Becca rolled her eyes, smiling, and acquiesced. Rolling off of me, she lay on her side, letting me study her in the flickering candlelight. She had a light tan, but it was clear she rarely went topless, and her tight backside had never seen the light of day. I lazily ran my hand along her flank, feeling the dip of her waist, the rise of her hip and her smooth thigh. With such a vision at my fingertips, my lust soon began to assert itself.

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