Jen's Legacy.
Not the time to hesitate.

He touched her face. “Please do not cry, my love.”

Her heart lurched in her chest to hear him call her that, even if he was not fully conscious of what he’d called her, still seeing her as Jen.

“We can do something about it now. I have a cream that will help with that rash. Some things are too important to be shy about. But I think I understand why you didn’t say anything. I’m suddenly shy with you too, and I’ve never been that way before with anyone.”

It was too long ago for him to remember.

He took her hand, and sat her up as he eased her shirt down her arms and took that off her too, as his hand moved around her back to support her, to leave her naked, but for her socks and sneakers.

He had to close his eyes then, seeing her breasts again and with them moving in front of his face as he took her shirt off her arms. She had magnificent breasts; he would never think of them any other way, driving him breathless!

He helped her lie down again, watching her breasts all of the time, seeing how proud her nipples were on them, and how firm her breasts were, relaxing only very little as she lay back, and they were just as prominent and obvious as they had been when he had seen them poking up above the water when he’d returned with that wood before she’d expected him.

He wanted to touch, to hold them, to kiss them, to become as familiar with them as he was with his own body, and wanted to be, with hers.

“I am trying not to be shy now, Royce.” She tried to encourage him.

“I know. You are being very brave to trust me.” He was feeling so privileged that she was letting him do this for her.

He picked up the tube of cream and squeezed generous dabs of it at different places upon her breasts; under them, as he lifted them so delicately and carefully. He left other dabs across her fiery abdomen, and down into her groin area as he gently moved her legs apart; setting a whirlwind roaring in his head to cloud his judgement. His emotions were barely contained at what he could see opening up for his entertainment and pleasure, seeing almost nothing else about her except for her vulva and even a suggestion of where her vagina was... waiting for him to discover that, too.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath before opening them again. He lifted her legs behind her knees, to sit with her feet flat, close up under her with her legs apart, so that he could tease the softer folds of skin apart between her legs, beside her vulva. She was tender there, aware of what he was doing, and of her tenderness. She was being brave to let him do this for her; dabbing more beads of the ointment along her crease and under her, returning to put more cream under her breasts as he lifted under them again, feeling her flinch at his familiar touch all over her, where no man had ever touched before, and where no man other than Royce would ever touch after this.

He might not survive this.

She waited for him to continue. He laid the tube down and did not hesitate to smooth the cream all over her breasts; under them, across her middle, and then applied more in her groin area, as he got her to move her legs even farther apart for him to get at her there, feeling more than privileged to be allowed to do this for her.

He heard her sigh and her breath catch in her throat, feeling some relief already, though it was having exactly the opposite effect on him.

She didn’t seem so shy, now that they had broken down even more barriers, and he was rapidly losing his own hesitation too, knowing that she would not object to anything she needed him to do, and was even openly inviting more than that.

“I’ll put more on you, shortly, but let’s take a look at your back, first.”

He encouraged her and helped her to roll onto her side, with her leaning up against his upper legs (her breasts barely relaxing at all), seeing the angry rash behind her, as bad as it was on her front, so applied more of the cream across the broad expanse of her back, before he lifted her upper leg to open her up more. He put some of it along that crease between her buttocks, driving himself wild with the vision of her that he could see behind her, but much more clearly now than before; putting more of the cream between her legs again, and on her cheeks, knowing that she was trusting him to do what was needed for her, rather than to give in to those baser, lustful urges that were inevitably building up in him.

He paused, seeing much more behind her there; hair, and the soft, fleshy structures within her exposed vulva that he ached to touch, and to investigate even more; of her vagina too, nestled within the pink, swollen folds of her inner labia, inviting him, tugging at him, pulling him in, making him breathless, and bringing him to life.

He wanted to lean down and kiss her there. Had it been possible, he would have shrunk himself down, and crawled into that invitingly warm, moist place, and nestled in there for the rest of his life.

He wanted to do more than to just see her body like this, but to touch it and to investigate it much more personally, but he knew that he must not. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He could feel the steadily mounting frustration that would drive him insane. There was only one solution to this, just as there had been with Jen just after they’d first met, and were learning about each other just like this, and that was when they’d made love soon after, and had continued to make love every day from that moment forward.

But this was not, Jen.

Despite what she was letting him do so personally for her, she was reassured by his momentary shyness, but was also aware of his deeper agitation; the inflamed and raging man behind that veneer of calm. She’d seen the same things about him, even as he had first seen her naked, lying on that beach, with him naked too, and he had touched her without hesitation or shyness then, to bring her back into his world with him. He should have made love to her then, except it had been to soon.

She could also see how doing this for her affected him. He would never be able to hide that response from her, but it was no longer a threatening response to her; more of an inevitable, and a healthy indication that he was fully alive again, and that they would soon be able to make love.

He returned her to lying on her back and went over her front again, always returning to between her legs, where the rash was most severe, and his interest most intense.

She felt his agitation, and how touching her was affecting him, so she reached up and touched his face to encourage him to continue what needed to be done on her lower body and where the rash was especially bad; under her and between her legs. She was unbearably sore there. Her touching him, showed him that she was not scared, and would trust him.

Empowered again, he pulled gently at the skin once more to open up the wrinkles in the irritated skin on either side of her vulva as she moved her legs apart yet again, for him to get in there.

Only Jen had ever done this for him, and always it had been part of their love-making process; of playing with each other until they could hold back no longer.

He must not forget where he was and who was with him. He tore his thoughts back to what he was doing, and how she was trusting him when she shouldn’t be.

They were looking at each other now, most of their shyness having gone, with all permissions given, and silently acknowledged. She would allow him to touch her again whenever he wanted to, and wherever he wanted to. That even more personal time between them was not so far off.

“When you dress again, Claire; if you dress, leave your clothing fully open to let the air circulate, and so that I can see how well this is working.” And he would be able to see so much more to admire, and dream, and touch.

“As long as I can see a rash on your body, I will keep putting that cream on you. I have another lotion that will also help after this one is gone, so there will always be enough.”

He gave her another reason to leave her clothing open, or off. Off, would be more exciting and better, as far as he was concerned.

“There are no biting insects up here, and no one other than me, will see you, so if you want to wander around naked, 'that', will help. I will try not to look at you too obviously (liar!), but… it will be very difficult not to admire you.”

Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.

He was already firmly enmeshed into her web, and would never want to escape.

It would be bloody-well impossible not to admire her, and too much of a temptation for him to ignore. She was temptation enough already, but leaving her clothing open, or off, was one recommended treatment, getting the air circulating and cooling her body. If she did that, as he so much wanted her to, he would be even more lost. Too late. He was already lost; her slave.

“I’ll put more of that cream on you later, before we retire. As I said, you should leave your clothing open as much as you can. Or even leave it off, tonight.” He was repeating himself far too obviously in his excitement and eagerness.

She would follow that advice, and leave it off. She looked up at him, knowing exactly what he was feeling for her.

“I will not mind you looking, if that is what you would like to do, Royce. I would like you to look, if it will give you any pleasure.”

If it would give him any pleasure, indeed! He would die of it.

“We have come a long way since yesterday. Why not look, if you find me to be as beautiful as you say.”

He could also touch. He had already touched and was still touching, putting more cream under her breasts, unable to leave her alone.

He interrupted her flow of words. “I do… find you that way, Claire.”

“…and it will give you pleasure.” She pushed her breasts up into his hands. “I think it does?” She sensed his agitation and excitement. This was not fair of her without more to follow.

He groaned, sighed, and sat up from her, deeply affected by what he could see of her.

“Claire. Claire.”

He repeated her name as he shook his head. “You are so very beautiful.” He was sounding like a stuck record. “A man could easily forget himself; forget who he is, where he is, and what he is, when he gets close to you like this. How have you... as beautiful as you are... survived this long in this world of men? And how did I ever get so lucky as to find you?”

They had found each other.

He was still saying everything that a woman wanted to hear.

He had to put those awkward feelings aside and continue to help her as she needed. She would decide when it would change.

He began to apply more of that cream in areas he should not be touching, and yet he was, slowly smoothing it over her between her legs but forgetting himself and his needed objectivity, and was now touching her subjectively, as an attentive lover this time, feeling her flinching at the intimacy of his touch as he moved the flat of his hand down and into that hair, tracing his middle finger lightly, along her vulva, pausing at the entrance to her vagina, sensing moistness, and warmth, then moving farther under her and back again, caressing her as a lover would; hearing her breath catch in surprise... in response to his familiar touch, but not saying anything to stop him as her body trembled with her awakening to inevitability.

She had her eyes closed now, and was crying, but she didn’t know why; except that she had this euphoric feeling of succeeding in what she had set out to do. She was suffering various conflicting emotions; knowing what she still needed to make happen between them, and how little time she had to do it.

She hesitated to move things too fast forward; uncertain about the right way to do things, yet already knowing--almost instinctively-- what she needed to do. There were so many competing thoughts and emotions pulling her around in so many different directions, though she knew that she was almost there, and that she was the one now in total control of what would happen. At least up to a certain point before it ran away from her and he took over.

He leaned over her and kissed her tears away as she turned her face up to him to encourage him in that, and to do even more for her, to encourage him to give in to what he was feeling.

That didn’t help either of them, and yet it did... bringing them even closer together.

He paused.

This was wrong. She had a right to expect better of him than this.

“I’m sorry, Claire, I should not have said what I did, or have done that either; kissed you, or touched you in that different way.”

She stopped him retreating by holding his arm.

“Why not, Royce. I needed you to have the courage to do that for me, all of it, exactly as you did. You were very gentle, as it should be between lovers, and it was very pleasurable for us both. You should continue.”

Now she was the one who was saying all the right things. ‘Lovers’.

She knew that he would always be gentle with her and considerate too, and if it got out of hand, or he forgot himself, then they would still advance together.

“You are so much help to me, Royce, and you should not give up. There is more to do that is still sore and that needs your attention, especially down there.” She brought her feet up and put her legs apart again for him to touch her, knowing how that must be affecting him.

He was powerless not to obey.

He sighed heavily, shaking his head as he put more of that cream on his fingers and gently smoothed it into the crease between her legs again, around behind her, and again on either side of her vulva, even more openly displayed to him, inviting, where her discomfort had been most keenly felt, and not sure how she dared to let him do this for her.

He was not sure himself, how he would respond if this continued the way it was, but it seemed obvious to him how it was affecting her, feeling her becoming agitated with his touch, and even feeling moist when he touched her along there; dwelling for longer than he should have done at her vagina each time he approached it and touched it.

She knew, as though by instinct, that it was not fair to do this to him, without there being much more to follow it.

He was becoming even more breathless and lost, smoothing his entire hand along her there again, forgetting for a moment who she was and doing it more slowly now, beginning to think-- wanting to believe-- that this was Jen that he was helping, and feeling his own body responding as it always would, yet he had been this way for the last hour, ever since he’d seen her lying naked in that water and then had climbed into the pond with her.

After this they would make love, as they always had.

She slowly pulled his head down to her and they kissed properly this time; a lingering kiss that led him even further into perdition.

“If you would like to do more to me, Royce, to touch me again even more personally, I will not mind.”

There was still a shred of consciousness, but not much, stopping him from giving in to her as she wanted.

“But that would be dangerous, Claire. I am a difficult male with many problems, and there are other, deeper and awkward emotions in play too. Ones that I have been unable to feel for the last few months until I met you… and which are... likely to shock an innocent young woman like you.”

And he was stating it diplomatically. She may never have seen a truly-aroused naked man before, and that was sure to be a sobering sight for any woman to see for the first time.

She wouldn’t ask about those awkward emotional responses he meant. She knew about those, having become aware of his bodily responses to her at different times, and which he had difficulty hiding from her, especially now. Soon he wouldn’t need to hide them from her.

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