Chapter 5

When Jackie first began to come awake she lay still with her eyes closed, savoring her long night's dream. But when she opened her eyes and saw Peter asleep beside her, she knew it hadn't been a dream. And, as it all came back to her, she was filled with wonder that she'd been allowed to sleep all night, undisturbed, with no knockings and clamorings at her door. Then, looking at Peter's vulnerable young profile, so serene in sleep, she knew. Peter's being with her was like a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. Apparently her Beaver Patrol were gentlemen all, and they deserved some kind of group commendation. Jackie wished she had time to give it to them now.

Jackie looked at the clock

"Oh, balls," she said, then clapped her hand to her mouth as she got out of bed, swiftly. But Peter was awake, frowning sleepily at her. She slipped the blue robe around her white nakedness.

"Where you going," Peter said grumpily, "in such a big hurry?"

Tm late," she told him. "I can't make the only train that'll get me into the city in time for an eleven o'clock shooting, so I'll have to drive."

"Please don't leave me like this," Peter said plaintively. He threw back the sheet and exposed his stiff swollen cock.

Jackie tried to cover her laugh.

"I'm sorry, Peter," she said. "But there will be other tunes."

"When?" Peter said.

It was a good question, she thought, while in the shower. When, indeed? Bob was due home today, and there'd be no more chance for fun and games with her Beaver Patrol.

Bob. That started another chain of thought. With the cool spray hitting her, she started to worry.

Back in her room, she started dressing in silence, with Peter watching her hungrily.

"Pete," she said, finally. "I was very indiscreet last night. I let myself get carried away."

"Nobody's complaining," Peter said.

"I hope not. But I'm worried sick that one of you will say something about it to Bob."

"Nobody'll say anything," Peter said. "I can promise you that. Bob will never know a thing."

"If he ever did find out, you know, then I could never do that again. With any of you."

"I know. So do the others. They won't say anything to spoil the chances."

"I hope you're right."

"I know I'm right," Peter said. "I know those guys."

"Thank you, Pete. You make me feel better."

"Don't worry," Peter said. She was fully dressed now, and sat down at the dressing table to put on make-up. In the mirror, she could see Peter sitting up against the pillows, the sheet still down at the foot of the bed. His stiff vibrant cock, pointed straight at the ceiling, seemed bursting with life.

"Jackie."

"Yes, dear?"

"Before you go," Peter said, "would you do me one little favor?"

She looked at him in the mirror, for a long moment "Of course, darling," she said.

She got up and went over to the bed and climbed up on it, raising her skirt to give herself freedom of movement. On her knees, she bent over and touched the swollen tip of his prick with her tongue.

Then she opened her mouth, bent further forward, and, gently, sucked his cock till he came, sucked it dry afterward.

When she got home late that afternoon and swung her car into the driveway, the Volkswagen was still there, and parked at the curb in front of the house was a small green convertible, a foreign make that Jackie couldn't identify. While she was going up the walk alongside the house, looking backward, trying to figure out what kind of car the convertible was, she heard the door to the side porch open, and turned to look.

Bob was coming out onto the porch to greet her. She ran up the steps and hugged him, surprised, as he put his arms around her and squeezed. Bob was usually about as demonstrative as a mummy.

"How are you, Mom?" he asked. "You look great."

Jackie was deeply pleased. She'd felt great, all day, and she probably did look great, too. All that exercise with the youngsters had probably done her a world of good.

"When did you get home?" she asked, and held him at arm's length, looking at him. "About half an hour ago."

"In that car, parked out front?" She nodded backward toward it. "Uh-huh."

"Where'd you get it? You aren't supposed to be driving yet, until you get your junior license."

"It's Valerie's. She drove me down."

"Who's Valerie?"

"I just told you. She drove me down."

"Oh," Jackie said.

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Don't mention birthdays or anything to her. She thinks I'm eighteen. Ldrove most of the way."

"How come she thinks you're eighteen?"

"I didn't exactly tell her I was eighteen, but she's seventeen, and you know."

She still had her hands at her elbows, holding him at arm's length. She looked at him carefully now. Looked up at him. He had to be an even six feet tall now, she realized. He was deeply tanned, and his coal-black hair was trimmed and combed, for a change. His features were calm, handsome, unblemished by teen-age flaws. His shoulders were broad, sloping, and his muscles smooth and hard. There was nothing gangling about him. He could be eighteen, easily. Jackie felt a twinge of uneasiness about this calm, assured young stranger.

"I know," she said. "Shall we go inside?"

"One more thing," Bob said. "Can Valerie spend the night?"

"She can stay in Agnes' room, up on the third floor."

"I thought so," Bob said. "She's up there now, taking a shower."

"What?" Jackie said, shocked. "Alone in this house, that young girl, with that tribe of rapacious Indians?"

"They aren't Indians," Bob said, and smiled. His teeth were very white against the tan. "Don't be so Victorian."

Jackie stifled her own smile.

"All right," she said. "I'll try not to be."

Valerie turned out to be a cool one. She almost tripped, missing a step when she first got sight of Jackie, on her way down the stairs to be introduced, but she regained her composure quickly. She sized Jackie up quickly, almost hiding any envy she felt.

She was a slim, tanned, clean-looking, open-faced blue-eyed blonde-right off the cover of Seventeen, Jackie thought, if you didn't look too close. She had nice legs and a pert little rear end, but Jackie was sure the boys had been more entranced by her truly outstanding feature, or features. Her breasts were remarkable-young, pert, buoyant, braless, joggling and bouncing when she walked.

She bent down a lot, too, Jackie noticed. She was wearing a cotton dress cut low and straight across the front, and the boys had trouble not looking at her when she bent to change records or pick up a magazine. They swelled, those creamy mounds, almost into full view.

And Bob looked at them, unabashed. The other boys had the decency to be embarrassed in front of Jackie, but not Bob.

For a while, after dinner, Jackie toyed with the idea of going upstairs and changing into something that would take the boys' minds off Valerie's provocative young bosom, but knew she couldn't do that, not with her son there. And anyway, she'd had enough excitement for one night. Maybe the boys hadn't, but she had. Around ten o'clock, after they'd turned over a stack of incomprehensible records, she said she was tired and was going up to bed.

She wasn't tired, she was bored. But she never had trouble sleeping, when she was bored.